#the plot seems interesting but I think I’ll just drop it

[queef-of-fortune]

Marionette (Doflamingo X Reader)

Chapter Thirty-seven:

Plot: When the Straw Hat crew got separated, Kuma sent her to the kingdom of Dressrosa.Unfortunately for her, she caught the eye of none other than the king himself. Donquixote Doflamingo.

The next afternoon, Violet and (Y/N) sat alone together in an awkward silence. Violet didn’t dare try to read her mind again. Not after last time. Instead, she tried to talk to her and attempt to earn her trust at Doflamingo’s request.

(Y/N) was being extremely uncooperative. She wasn’t as stupid and naive as he wished she was. But then again, maybe that’s what he loved the most about her. It was obvious to her that Violet wasn’t interested in true friendship, she only was following orders. It all seemed so methodical. Like she had no real plan.

Violet tried her hardest to interact with her.

“What was your childhood like? Did you have any friends? What about school? Did you go?” She seemed rather eager to learn about (Y/N)’s prior education. Of course, she just sat and gave vague answers like, “It was okay I guess.” Or “yeah.” And then she’d go back to her book.

After about an hour of Violet trying to coax out some real answers, she finally realized that maybe she needed a new approach. Something they could potentially bond over. There was only one thing that came to mind.

“I’m sorry.” Violet suddenly apologized.

(Y/N) peeked up from her book, brow raised as Karma purred happily in her lap.

“Sorry for what?” She responded rather coldly.

“For bothering you. Doflamingo put me up to it, you see.” Violet explained.

“Oh no shit?” (Y/N) replied sarcastically, shoving her nose back into her book.

Violet sighed, feeling rather defeated but she knew she’d be punished if she came back with nothing.

“It’s just that— “She paused for dramatic effect, hoping to grab her attention.

(Y/N) huffed in return, slamming her book shut in irritation. The disturbance made Karma scowl and hop down into the floor, immediately bathing herself in displeasure.

“What?” (Y/N) said impatiently.

Violet was almost appalled by her crass response but kept her composure.

“He wanted me to learn more about you.” She confessed.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and scoffed in disgust.

“Well you can tell him, that I said he can go fuck himself. Did he think I didn’t know what he was up to?” (Y/N) spat rather harshly, squinting her eyes and leaning forwards.

Violet’s mouth dropped at her hateful remark. She began to stutter and couldn’t seem to find anything to retort with. She knew Doflamingo surely wouldn’t be pleased. (Y/N) then leaned back into her chair, looking rather relaxed. Almost as if she didn’t just cuss Violet out just now.

“Look,” she said, “it’s nothing personal. I just can’t fucking stand him.” She tried to explain.

Violet closed her mouth and nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I’m not exactly a fan of his either but I do what I have to.” She admitted.

“Why?” (Y/N) asked.

That was a tough question. Doflamingo single handedly destroyed this country. He pretended to be the hero to save Dressrosa but he was the reason for King Riku— Her fathers downfall. Violet wasn’t willing to give up information if (Y/N) wouldn’t either.

“Tell me something that I can tell Doflamingo and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” Violet attempted to bargain with her.

“Like what?” (Y/N) cocked her head to the side.

“How long did you go to school for?” She asked.

“I started school young, probably four. Graduated at eighteen, then went to college for a couple of years before I ended up a pirate.” (Y/N) answered honestly.

She hoped that that information would be enough to please Doflamingo and keep Violet out of trouble.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.” Violet replied happily.

“Now you.” (Y/N) didn’t forget about their agreement.

Violet sighed, the smile dropping from her face before answering, “It was about eight years ago, my father was the king of Dressrosa. That was until Doflamingo forced him and the guards to attack the civilians using his strings. Then he— “Violet seemed to be getting choked up. “He had my sister killed. I promised to work for him if he let my father live.”

(Y/N) was stunned by her confession. It only fueled her hatred for Doflamingo even further.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” (Y/N) hung her head in shame, feeling guilty she made her relieve such events.

“It’s not your fault.” Violet’s voice cracked as she spoke.

She then stood, flattening out her dress before she retreated towards the library doors.

“Excuse me, I have to go report back.” She said, her back turned to (Y/N).

Doflamingo sat alone in his office, mindlessly scribbling his signature down on every document that required it. His mind wasn’t focused on his work like it should have been. It was always on her. Periodically, his eyes would find themselves drifting in the direction of the swing he had placed for her. It sat empty and still. Completely vacant.

How he wished that perfect little body of her was curled up inside of it. He was desperate for her company. He had been so lonely all afternoon. Yet he controlled the urge to hunt her down. He knew she would be with Violet. He instructed them to spend time together.

He hoped she’d come back with some useful information—

Just then, the sound of the wooden doors creaking open broke him from his thoughts. Violet peered inside.

“Is this a bad time, Young Master?” Violet spoke softly.

“No, no, perfect timing, sit.” He said excitedly, placing his pen down and urging her to sit across from him.

He poured them both a glass of wine hastily, before shoving one of the large glasses in her dainty hands.

“So,” He leaned back in his chair comfortably, “What did you find out? What did she tell you?”

Violet swirled the contents of the glass, staring down into the crimson liquid that rimmed her cup.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” Violet said just above a whisper.

Doflamingo’s expression shifted inhumanly fast.

“Tell me.”

Violet took a deep breath.

“She told you to go fuck yourself.”

Violet closed her eyes tightly, waiting for him to hit her or scream, maybe throw that wine back in her face. But instead, he just laughed. Cackled even. Doflamingo threw his head back in boisterous laughter. It was so loud it shook the frames on the walls.

Once he contained himself, he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk as he wiped faux tears from underneath his shades.

“Go on,” he urged, waving his hand lazily, “What else did she say?”

Violet was taken aback. She didn’t expect this kind of reaction from him. She just stared in a stunned silence for a moment, unsure how to continue.

“I-I um— she said she started school at four and graduated at eighteen.” Violet muttered.

“What else?”

“She also said she went to college for a couple of years before she became a pirate.”

“College huh? What school did she attend?” He asked.

“I didn’t get that out of her.” She hung her head shamefully.

Doflamingo let out an unsatisfied ‘hmph’ but continued. “What did she go to college for? What did she study?”

Violet just shook her head. “I don’t know, sir. She wouldn’t say.”

Doflamingo wasn’t thrilled with that reply, but he seemed happy enough.

“An educated woman…” He murmured more to himself than Violet.

After an awkward moment of silence, he shooed her away lazily.

“Go on, you’ve done well. You’ll be rewarded… Eventually.”

And with that she bowed her head and left. Doflamingo sat in his office for the next hour just thinking. He wasn’t working, he wasn’t drinking himself to death. Just thinking. The glass of wine remained untouched on his desk.

He’d never been with a woman who had any kind of college education. In all honesty, he preferred to fuck stupid women. It’s not like he loved them. Hell, he didn’t even like most of them. But she was different; she was something else entirely. No one had ever spoken to him that way before.

He wanted her badly. Each passing day he grew hungrier for her. He craved to hear his name on her tongue, to feel her quiver beneath him. It was beginning to drive him mad. Sleeping next to her wasn’t enough. Her defiance wasn’t enough. He needed her to love him. No question about it.

Doflamingo removed his glasses and closed his eyes, leaning so far back it almost flipped his chair. He replayed her memory over and over again in his deranged mind. The sight of her little hands working that pen onto the paper before her. He wondered what kind of student she was.

Was she top of her class? Maybe a troublemaker? Potentially even a class clown? The thoughts didn’t stop. What did she major in? Something in the medical field perhaps? Maybe literature? Or history? The possibilities were endless, and he so desperately needed to find out for himself.

He shot up from his chair, pushing his glasses back onto his face before striding out of the room in search of his lover. Of course he found her in the library, where else? She was curled up in the same chair as yesterday, reading his favorite book. The one she picked out all on her own.

“So, you think I should go fuck myself, huh?” Was the first thing he said as he barged through the doors,

He didn’t hide his presence this time. He strode in loud and confident, letting the double doors slam shut behind him.

(Y/N) jumped in her seat, wide eyed and surprised by his sudden entrance. His feathered coat billowed behind him as he walked towards her, stopping only a few feet away.

“I bet you’d like to watch too, wouldn’t you little bird?” He grinned broadly at his own crude statement.

She sneered in return.

“Fucking gross.” She murmured under her breath before sticking her nose back into the pages of her book.

He quickly snatched the book from her grasp, receiving a ‘hey!’ in protest as she reached out for it. He of course had five feet on her and held it high above her head.

“So, I hear you’re a college girl.” He teased. “Tell me about that, won’t you?” He pretended to beg, not convincingly so either.

“Tell you what exactly?” She crossed her arms across her chest, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“What did you study? I’m dying to know.” He squatted down on her level, still grinning ear to ear as he always did.

“Does it matter?” She retorted.

“Of course it matters,” He reached out a hand, gently stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

She didn’t jerk away. She just sat there, looking out the window as if he weren’t caressing her.

“Psychology.” She answered plainly.

He removed his thumb from her lip, seemingly satisfied.

“Oh, so you are my little master manipulator, aren’t you?” He teased again.

She didn’t reply, just huffed. Still keeping her eyes away from his.

“Oh, now don’t be that way little bird, I’m only teasing.” He continued to rub against her lip with his thumb.

“We’ll talk after dinner. Come.” He stood, reaching a hand out to her.

She took it, just like she always did, and allowed him to lead her away from the one safe spot she had left.

[paarksunghoon]

grocery store receipts (sunghoon)

SUMMARY: your hot neighbor seems to have everything you don’t: charm, confidence, and a sense of direction in life. you’ve managed to keep to yourself in the time you’ve lived across from his apartment but the holiday season brings brings out unresolved feelings, and you find that the best present of all has always been standing right in front of you.

WORD COUNT: 31.5K.

PLAYLIST: I ended up making one for this fic

NOTES: consider this a love letter to sunghoon. this story had three plots before it became what it is right now. I’m not somebody who generally enjoys the holidays but wish I could be, so this is a bit of a diary entry, of sorts. (me to me: it’s really not that serious.)

and thanks to @moonstruck-muses for being the best person I know…I love who I am when I’m with you and I’m so grateful that you ended up tagging along to oomf’s house all those months ago. kinda hilarious that I knew you’d be a jake girl before you did, but I think that sums up the kind of friendship we have. 🩷

WARNINGS: fluff & angst, mentions of poor childhoods and bad parental relationships, a whole lot of Christmas talk, smut in the form of: dry humping, oral (f. receiving), missionary, sunghoon’s kinda obsessed with her chest, multiple orgasms, fingering. unprotected sex, creampie, and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

****

“Did you bring the sweater?”

Jake holds up a large white paper bag and pulls out the fabric, pushing the decorative detail in your direction. “Boom. You’ll win the ugly sweater competition, no doubt.”

“It’s not a contest.” You take the bag from him and Jake beams at you with that boyish smile he has when he gets excited about something. You feel a bit soft that he’s excited for you. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.” 

Heeseung grabs the sweater and holds it up in front of him. “This…is something else. Why do you have it in the first place?”

“It’s got a disco dance floor with breakdancing gingerbread men,” Jake deadpans. “It’s snowing inside the club. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”

Jay laughs. “He saw it at a thrift store last Christmas and bought it on a whim. I don’t think he’s worn it, so it’s good that you’re taking it off his hands.”

“I still want it back even if I have nowhere to wear it to.” 

You bump Jake’s hip. “You could always wear it to run errands.” 

He makes a face. “I’m not that crazy.” 

Heeseung folds the sweater and puts it back in the bag before handing it off to you for safekeeping when all four of you walk deeper into the bar. It’s cold outside. It’s the kind of weather that has you layered up in a scarf and a large peacoat that shields you from the chilly bite of the air. Summer has long passed and spring isn’t for another few months, and the joy you feel from the temperature dropping echoes within the warm bar you find yourself in. The juxtaposition of snowy air met with a warm furnace feels comforting in all of the right ways.

You offer to get a table and hum in appreciation with Jay and Jake volunteer to split the first round. They know your order on a weekday evening—whiskey sour—because you don’t like to go overboard when you have to wake up early the next morning. Heeseung slides into the booth beside you and nudges your shoulder.

“Are you still interested in the Marketing Lead position? I heard Kang Eunji’s transferring to the Tokyo office and that the company is looking to hire internally.”

“Now how would you know that, Lee Heeseung?” He shrugs with an uptick to the corner of his mouth.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you, by any chance, flirt with our floor’s secretary to get this information?” 

Heeseung’s cheeks reddens. “It’s not my fault that she’s into me, okay?! I’ve turned her down plenty of times because I don’t do workplace relationships, but I’ll make an exception if that means helping my best friend get promoted.”

“Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re stringing her along.” Heeseung rolls his eyes.

“I’m doing nothing of that sort. I just smiled at her, complimented her dress, and asked if the rumors about Eunji leaving were true.” 

“You walk through life getting everything you want handed to you, huh?” Heeseung smiles innocently but the two of you end up sharing a laugh. 

“I’m serious, though. I don’t know how much I can help since everybody in the office knows we’re close. They’ll definitely think I bias you over other candidates.”

“Don’t you?” 

“Well yeah, but let’s consider there are a few other people whose words matter more than mine.” 

“That is awfully nice of you. I’m a little concerned that you might have something up your sleeve but I appreciate you.” 

He laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good Christmas.” The boyish smile he wears makes you feel tender but you push against him anyway.

“You’re a little scary when you’re nice to me.” 

“What? I can’t be nice to the girl who spilled hot coffee down my shirt the first time we met?”

You mumble. “I’m clumsy.”

“Are we talking about you being an absolute klutz?” Jay puts your drink in front of you. “If so, do you remember the time we were playing tennis in my backyard and you tripped over grass?”

“Okay, okay! I get it. I have terrible coordination and fine motor skills.” You hide your smile behind the glass and thank them for the drink before Jake speaks up.

“You’ll have to send me a picture of you in the sweater. I want to put it up in my fridge, or something. What’s it for anyway?”

“The company Heeseung and I work at hosts spirit month every holiday season,” you explain. “Every Friday is casual dress day, but starting in the first week of November, there’s a holiday theme and I think it’s fun to dress up.”

“I’m surprised at how many people do it,” Heeseung chimes in.

“I’m sure we can find one day that works for you.”

“I’ll only consider dressing up if you can make it look tasteful.”

“Please just dress up once,” you beg. “You can wait until it gets close to Christmas. Besides, you’d look good in some of the categories.”

“What are the themes?” Jay asks.

“Next week is Winter Wonderland and the week after that is Red Day. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pajama Day somewhere.”

“Well, I might show up to the office in sweats.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I wish my job did something fun.” Jake pouts behind his beer. “I’m in a lab all day so even if I wore something festive, it’s covered by a white coat.”

Jay laughs. “You act like being able to wear a white coat is a bad thing.”

“It is when you can’t see break dancing gingerbread men.”  

“Have you guys started Christmas shopping?” Heeseung stares at the drink in his hand as if a lightbulb hangs over his head. “All this holiday talk made me realize I haven’t started thinking about what to get my friends and family. I have absolutely no idea what to get you guys.”

“You could get me a free week at your client’s fancy hotel.” Heeseung looks at Jay and deadpans, whereas the younger boy laughs.

“I’d get myself a weekend vacation before I give it to you.” He sighs. “It would be fun if all four of us could go on a vacation away from Seoul, though. No worries, no work, and no responsibilities.”

“The lab’s slowing down and I’ve made a list of people I need to give gifts to.” Jake pulls his phone out and shows everybody the note on his phone, aptly titled ‘CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FOR THE HOMIES.’ You try to see what he’s put beside your name but he pulls his phone away faster than you can read.

Jay looks at you. “I’ll bet you've been prepared since summer.”

“I’m only put together when it comes to the holidays, Jay.”

“Does that mean you have most of your gifts wrapped?” 

You nod proudly. “You know me too well.”

“I want to know what you got me.” 

“Nope, no guessing.”

“I don’t think you can beat last year’s gift for him,” Jake snickers. “Poor Jay almost had a heart attack when you were able to get his guitar signed by Hisashi Tonomura since you worked with him for a campaign.” 

“That was tricky because I didn’t know how to ask for your guitar without tipping you off.”

“I knew you wanting to learn how to play was a bullshit excuse,” Jay says with a laugh. “But looking back at it now, that really was a great gift.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Are you getting anything for your cute next door neighbor?” You aren’t tipsy by any means, but the mere mention of the hot guy who lives across the hall from your apartment makes your cheeks feel warm. The guys laugh when you look away from them and you hear their laughter ringing in your ears as you try to maintain your shyness.

“No, Heeseung. It would be weird of me to get a gift for someone I barely know.”

“Maybe you should!” Jake nudges your knee with the tip of his shoe. “You guys could fall in love for all anybody knows.” 

You smile weakly. “I’m too scared to talk to him. He’s so…hot.” 

Jay snorts. “So you tell us.” 

Your neighbor, who you and the guys have dubbed ‘The Stranger,’ moved into your building nearly a year ago. In that time, you haven’t mustered up the courage to say anything to him. You keep it at awkward eye contact when you see him leaving or arriving at the same time and begin daydreaming the minute you lock your door behind you. His dark hair, striking brown eyes, and pouty lips is enough to make him the subject of your waking thoughts. 

Your friends seem to overestimate your confidence and encourage you to talk to The Stranger, but your resolve crumbles every time you make eye contact with him. Surely a man like that belongs only in fairy tale books or those cliché romance novels middle-aged women seem to like so much. He’s always impeccably dressed with fitted clothing and a clean face that never seems to have blemishes. He must be well off because you recognize name brands adorning his chiseled body.

His demeanor intimidates you too. The Stranger always stands with his chin parallel to the floor and walks with his shoulder held back as if invisible books were stacked on top of his head. The way he carries himself makes you think he’s confident and it intimidates you because you’re anything but. The Stranger is always polite, acknowledging you if he happens to see you around your shared hallway, but he remains aloof with barely a glance before disappearing. He is every bit tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re a little too unsure of yourself to ever make the first move. 

Heeseung, your closest friend since you moved to Seoul, always tells you there’s nothing to fear and that rejection isn’t the end of the world. You try to take his advice but Heeseung is the type of person who never has never had to worry about rejection because people are lining up the doors for him. He’s got a charming personality that almost certainly helped secure his promotion at the company you two work. He’s also got enough charisma and good looks to hook women in. Heeseung doesn’t have to lift a finger to get anybody to pay attention to him. Besides, you’d rather live in this yearning stage of your life than face the awkwardness of seeing him after he rejects you. 

(“If he rejects you,” you hear Heeseung’s voice say in the back of your mind.)

It’s the same for Jay and Jake, too. They’re both incredibly handsome and know their way around people, even if they’re a bit shy at times. Jake especially, who has a clear accent in the way he speaks, can easily make friends with anybody at the mere mention of the way he speaks. Jay attracts people left and right because of his chiseled jawline and the fact that he’s musically gifted, and people stay because he’s incredibly compassionate and attentive.

You love your friends because they’re wonderful people who always seem to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking before you can tell them. But you’re a little bit envious that the world seems to work out for them without doing too much. You find that your experiences have the opposite outcome and you’ve had your fair share of rejection stories across every aspect of your life. All of your insecurities have been with you from childhood until now, and trying to be the bigger person is becoming harder every single day. It’s probably what keeps you from doing anything but approach the attractive man that lives across from you. The Stranger is simply somebody too beautiful and you aren’t sure if you’re worthy enough to be somebody he can look at. 

“He’s hot and single.” Heeseung puts his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” 

“We don’t know that he’s single.”

“I wish I knew what he looked like.” Jake pouts at his beer. “Who doesn’t have an Instagram or social media?” 

“You’re one to talk. You barely post on Instagram and every picture you have is outdated. I’m pretty sure the only person who cares enough is Jay.” 

The aforementioned speaks next. “Has he ever brought girls home before?” 

You shrug. “I don’t think so?” 

“There you have it. He’s single, hot, and you should make a move on him! You never know what’ll happen.” 

“Can we drop it?” you ask, starting to feel a bit restless where you sit. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” Jake sits back and tries to hide his sulk, although you know he only wants the best for you so you try not to feel annoyed. 

“Are any of you going home for the holidays?” Jay asks to break the silence. 

“Probably not,” Heeseung replies. “My family wanted to go somewhere tropical and spending time in the heat doesn’t sound too good to me. I’ll probably see them when they get back and make a weekend out of it.” 

“Same here.” Jake finishes off the rest of his beer. “My brother’s coming from Brisbane and my parents are spending it back home, but we agreed to meet up next year since they visited Seoul a few months back. You?”

“Staying here because my extended family will be here for a week or so. I’ve got some family obligations but they told me to take it easy now that I’m living on my own.” 

“Sounds like you guys will be bothering each other even more now, huh?”

Jay laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? Are you going back home this year?” 

You look down at your hands. “I don’t know yet. My mom keeps asking if she should expect me to come home but I’ve put off making that decision for a long time. It’s just hard, you know? After dealing with my dad and everything that went down a few years ago…I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” 

Her voice lingers in the back of your head the more you think about it. You don’t talk to her often and leave phone calls with her around two to three times a week. She sends you Instagram reels she thinks are funny and you do your best to laugh at them too. But the reality is that talking to her about the holidays reminds you of everything you’re running away from. 

It’s been four years since you moved for a fresh start after university. Seoul used to be so big and enticing compared to the small fishing town you hail from. The streets smell like delicious savory and sweet goods instead of the raw stench of live bait and wet creatures. The lights that illuminate the night sky due to the gargantuan billboards make you feel like this city never truly sleeps because the next adventure is at arm’s length. It’s what you’ve craved for so long and now that you have it, going back to your neighborhood is starting to make you feel guilty for achieving one of your dreams and leaving everything behind. 

Your friends seem to know what’s running through your head. You’ve been this way every winter since they met you. Heeseung gently nudges your arm with his elbow to pull you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We’ll be here for you.”

“I know. I just feel guilty for not going back home since I moved. It’s a two hour train ride but I can’t bring myself to buy the ticket. It’s so hard to be in a place that brings you bad memories.”

“We’ll keep you company this Christmas,” Jake promises. “We aren’t going anywhere so there’s no reason for you to be alone.” 

“Thanks, guys. I’m sorry that I brought the mood down.” 

“What else is drinking at bars for if not to lament about the sad shit?” Jake smiles when that pulls a laugh out of you. 

“Yeah, you’re right. But if I’m hungover at work tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

***

Despite a difficult conversation that sparked haunting nostalgic memories to resurface at once, you managed to keep your drinking to a minimum and stopped yourself after a single cocktail. Heeseung dropped you off and promised to be back to carpool to work tomorrow, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping was The Stranger. 

Your under eye bags aren’t as groggy as they are when you’d drink the night away, but they still feel heavy underneath you. Moisturizer and concealer can only do so much to get rid of the dark circles on your face so you make do and send a silent prayer that you’ll look decent for the entire day. Jake’s ugly sweater hangs perfectly against your dresser and you do your best to style around the atrocious design, but it makes you smile to see such a ridiculous piece of clothing on your body. It reminds you that the holidays are beginning and you try to think about all of the festivities in the area instead of the looming doom of going back to your hometown during this time of year. You take a quick picture of yourself and send it in the group chat, thanking Jake for the impeccably horrible sweater. Once your work bag is packed, Heeseung tells you he’s parked outside of your apartment building. 

You step outside and lock your door only to be greeted by The Stranger.

He blinks when he takes note of the dancing gingerbread men and cocks his head trying to make sense of him. The Stranger, on the other hand, is wearing a fitted longsleeve shirt that nearly molds around the muscles of his arm and baggy pants that somehow make him seem taller than you recall. His hands are adorned with silver jewelry and his shoes look like they might be as expensive as your monthly rent. You’re starting to feel the juxtaposition of your outfit compared to his when he looks at you and the design of the fabric feels heavy on your shoulders.

“That is an ugly sweater.” The Stranger widens his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink when his words finally register. “I just mean that your sweater is…interesting.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “It���s alright. This sweater is really ugly.” 

“Any particular reason as to why you’re wearing it, then?” 

“Today’s a holiday spirit day at work,” you explain to him. “Every Friday has a different theme and today just so happens to be Ugly Sweater Day.”

“I hope you get a consolation prize because, wow…that truly is an atrocious piece of clothing.”

The two of you start to make your way towards the elevator, and stand in awkward silence as you wait for it to reach your floor. You see him stealing glances at the design and feel your neck warming up, and start to wish you could take it off. The thought of this outfit being The Stranger's first impression of you makes you feel humiliated, but Heeseung is waiting for you outside and Jake didn’t give it to you just for it to hang in your closet. 

The chime alerts you to the doors opening and The Stranger allows you to get in first. You're about to press the button for the lobby when he beats you to it. You settle into an uncomfortable silence, resisting the urge to itch your palms and shift awkwardly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Everything about him screams opulence, from the way he stands to the way his cologne smells. You aren’t sure that you can name the notes in the scent, but it smells extremely expensive. Even the way he stands makes you feel like you should fix your posture. 

“I’m Sunghoon,” says The Stranger. His deep voice echoes in the elevator and your throat feels dry as you tell him your name. “I’ll remember that for when we inevitably run into each other.” 

The lobby is fairly empty but you can see the hustle and bustle of city life when you look past the glass walls. Heeseung is sitting in his car, scrolling on his phone when Sunghoon opens the door for you and lets you walk out in front of him. You feel him looking at you and turn around one last time. He takes one more look at the sweater and nods. 

“Well, uh, have a good spirit day at work.”

“T-Thanks!” 

You don’t wait for his reaction and turn around to walk towards Heeseung’s car that you noticed has been recently washed. He unlocks the doors when he hears you tugging on the handles and looks at the sweater before bursting out into laughter.

“Jesus, that sweater is so fucking ugly.” 

“Thanks.” 

When you don’t put your seatbelt on, Heeseung turns to see that you’re looking outside of the window. He darts his eyes to see if he can catch a glimpse of your line of sight but comes up empty. You look fresh for this hour of the morning and Heeseung wonders if the smile on your face is because of the upcoming spirit day. 

“What are you looking at?”

You whip your head to your friend, who looks at you quizzically. “You will not believe who I talked to this morning.” 

“Who? Santa?” Heeseung looks at the photo you sent in the group chat earlier. “Nice selfie, by the way. You look like an elf.”

You swat his shoulder. “No, dummy.”

“Then who did you meet?” 

“My neighbor.” Heeseung’s jaw drops and you swat his shoulder again. He winces, but you can’t find it in yourself to care too much and buckle yourself to his passenger seat. “We gotta get to work. Drive and I’ll tell you.”

He grips the wheel and starts the fifteen minute journey. “Did you finally introduce yourself to him?” 

“Not quite. We walked out of our apartments at the same time. He said, and I quote, ‘That is an ugly sweater.’”

“I don’t know whether to be happy or sorry for you.”

“I feel stupid because of all the days I had to run into him, it had to be today.” Heeseung’s seat warmers make it all that more enticing to sulk. You tug at the hem and inspect the design, feeling somewhat regretful that you chose to participate in today’s spirit day. “I told him a little bit about why I’m wearing it and he seemed to think it was funny.” 

“Does he smell good?” You flick Heeseung’s arm, who laughs in the driver’s seat.

“Shut up. But yeah, he really does.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Sunghoon.” Your mouth curves into a smile. 

“Sunghoon. Nice name. Sounds fancy.” 

“I guess so. He does wear a lot of name brands and high luxury fashion.”

“His name definitely suits him, then.” 

To nobody’s surprise, you have the best ugly sweater throughout the office. More people participated than you and Heeseung had originally guessed and the holiday-themed snacks your division manager provided was enough to boost office morale. The weather outside is getting darker earlier and you even feel a bit restless after sitting in your office for a while. 

Heeseung watches you from behind your frosted doors as he talks to the floor secretary to order files and copies of his projects, and the sight of you in that horrendous sweater with a smile on your face makes him smile too. You’ve looked like that the entire day, from picking you up and throughout lunch, and Heeseung wonders if could ever convince you to make a move on your neighbor since you talk about him so much. He doesn’t know how much longer he can listen to your fantasies while being extremely shy to strike a conversation with him. 

He turns to the group chat he has with Jay and Jake. You’re notably absent from this text thread (as told by the name of the group chat) and they use it to discuss anything deemed ‘guy stuff’ (most infamously when you text “TAKE THIS ELSEWHERE” when they start getting too boyish for your taste).

The Gentlemen’s Club 

heeseung: GUYS. She met her neighbor this morning

heeseung: His name is Sunghoon and he saw her with Jake’s ugly sweater

heeseung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

jake: IS HE CUTE

heeseung: I think so. She was blushing the entire car ride here and could barely say anything until we parked 

jake: fuck yea. i trust her taste in men because she thinks byeon wooseok and kim jaeyoung are hot. they’re gonna fall in love guys 

jay: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jake had one too many cups of coffee  

jake: well yes BUT u know me and you know i think they’ll have a meet cute

heeseung: Technically they already had one. Although I don’t if I’d call it a meet cute since he called your sweater ugly to her face

jake: whatever. you know what I mean. we should find out what he looks like 

jay: And how are we gonna do that?   

jake: idk maybe throw a little get together this weekend

heeseung: That’s a little soon, no? 

jake: next weekend then. 

jake: I can host at my place. tell her to bring whoever she wants. I need an excuse for a housewarming anyway 

jay: You moved in three months ago tho??

jake: it’s time to have one now!!!! I’ll text the group chat with all of us 

Heeseung switches to the group chat with you in it. 

The Family Unit:

jake: housewarming. my place. next saturday. 6pm. bring food 

jay: If you’re throwing the party, why do we need to bring the food

jake: because I am hosting god knows how many people and I cannot afford all of that 

heeseung: We can figure this out later 

you: Jaeyun, didn’t you move in three months ago ???

jay: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.

jake: we can have an official party now!!!!. bring whoever you want as long as they’re cool

you: Say less!!! I’m there. I’ll bring dessert

jake: 🤤

jay: Can I leave this group chat?

It’s painfully boring for the rest of the day as you all tie up loose ends before 6 PM hits, but you power through it and let your assistant go home for the day. With the weekend looming near after sending a few more emails, you swear you can feel the tension exiting your body. Heeseung knocks on your door and steps inside as you send one last message to a client. 

“You should invite Sunghoon.” 

“To what?” you ask him, temporarily clouded by end-of-week work stress.

“To Jake’s housewarming, dude. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to him again.” You sit back in your chair and look at him as he sits in front of you. 

“I don’t think I have the guts to do that.”

“It’s easy. Knock on his door and tell him there’s gonna be free food and drinks next weekend.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a magnet. People are drawn to you because you have no problem socializing with people you don’t know.”

“You and I are friends, aren’t we? I must be doing something right.”

“Meeting at work four years ago hardly counts as socializing. It was forced proximity.” Heeseung puts his hand over his heart and pretends to cry.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I like being friends with you and you aren’t as awkward as you think you are. I think Sunghoon, or anyone for that matter, would feel that way too. You just need to put yourself out there.”

You slump back in your desk chair. “I know…It’s hard to push myself to get to know someone, though. It’s like there’s an invisible line I can’t seem to cross and it gets worse when I talk to people I find attractive. He’s like, really hot.”

“You talk to me every day and do just fine.” Expertly, he dodges when you throw a pen at him and laughs when you grunt in dissatisfaction. “What are you so scared of?”

“I don’t know. Looking like an idiot, for one. He’s so beautiful and I don’t feel worthy of him.”

“He’s a man, first of all,” Heeseung deadpans, “so he’s already beneath you.”

“Wow, so you do listen to my I-hate-men rants.”

“Yeah, because I care about you and men suck.”

“You and the guys especially when you won’t leave my apartment.” 

“But your apartment is so cozy.” You threaten to throw another pen and smile when he flinches. 

“I’m afraid of making things awkward if he doesn’t want to get to know me like that. We’ve acknowledged that we’re neighbors and all, but what if I ask him to come to Jake’s party, he says no, and thinks I’m a weirdo and a creep for asking him that after one conversation?”

“Then he’s a weirdo for being creeped out. Anyone who gets offended by being invited somewhere is weird. You’re a nice person trying to do a nice thing. There’s nothing wrong with making friends.”

Heeseung is right, like he typically always is, and you ponder on his words. Since the first time you saw Sunghoon, you’ve treated him as some fictitious crush that exists only within your head and muse over the small interactions and indulge yourself when thinking about him. Romance seems far fewer in between and you choose to stick to television shows and books that make your heart flutter instead of going on multiple dates just to find out the two of you aren’t compatible. 

It feels like an endless cycle of hopelessness at times. You’ll watch your friends fall in love and try to empathize with that kind of unfiltered joy that comes with knowing somebody loves you just as much as you love them, but you fall flat when the reality weighs in. You don’t think you’ve ever fallen in love or have felt anything remotely close to falling for someone so deeply that you lose yourself in it. It’s probably a good thing, but the yearning doesn’t seem to end even though you know it’s for the best. 

Pinning all of the qualities you’d want in a boyfriend on the stranger next door seemed like a safe bet because you never thought about the possibility of getting to know him. Sunghoon is someone who is as quiet as a mouse, never making too much noise when he’s in his apartment. He’s a model tenant who always pays his bills on time and never causes a disturbance to the building. Facing the reality that is perceiving him as anything but what your imagination conjured up makes you a little uneasy. You admire from afar but the idea of a hot guy looking in your direction makes you feel somewhat unworthy of their attention. 

“I’ll think about it,” is all you offer. Heeseung seems to be pleased at your answer and doesn’t pry any further. “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. I decided everything else could wait until Monday and sent my assistant home.” 

“Look at us being good managers.”

“We’re everything we said we would ve and then some.” Heeseung grabs your pea coat from the closet and helps you put it on when you round the corner of your desk one sleeve at a time. “Do you remember Song Bitna?”

“How could I ever forget,” you scoff, retrieving your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “She used to make us run laps and get upset that our work wasn’t completed.”

“She made me go on more personal errands than anything work related. It’s a wonder how I managed to get promoted.”

You push the door to your office open and say goodnight to your remaining coworkers. “There’s a reason why we’re here and she isn’t. It’s good to know we aren’t shitty bosses.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I get in my own head and wonder if I’m managing everything correctly. I want my assistant to learn from me, you know?” Heeseung allows you to step into the elevator before walking in after you. 

“Yeah, but you’re good at everything you do. You should have more faith in yourself.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.

“You should take your own advice.” You bite your lip and look down at the floor. “You’ve got a week. Think about it, okay?”

“I will.” 

“I was serious about the promotion as well. I’ll put in a good word but you should consider talking to the division lead.”

Classic Heeseung. He looks out for you in more ways than one. 

***

The weekend flies by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself at your desk on a Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea sitting between your hands to warm up your palms. The building’s central heater stopped working a few hours into the workday, leaving you and many other office workers disgruntled and cold. You shut all of your windows and paced around your office to keep your blood circulating throughout your body. The morning was fairly productive until the heating went out and you've spent the last hour replying to emails with cold fingers, pushing any and all thoughts of Sunghoon out of your mind. 

You haven’t seen him since last Friday. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to have a routine that he sticks to–one that you can identify, anyway–because you didn’t run into him for the past three days. You waited anxiously by the elevator to see if he would come barreling down the hallway and ask you to hold the door for him, but each day was met with empty silence before stepping into Heeseung’s car. 

True to your word, you spent Saturday trying to convince yourself to ask if he’d be interested in coming with you to Jake’s housewarming party. You’d wane from decision to decision, telling yourself there’s nothing inherently wrong with asking somebody if they want to hang out, but the irrational side of your brain convinced you that it would be weird to open up that kind of dialogue with a stranger. You don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t know the first thing about you. But that’s what getting to know someone consists of, doesn’t it? 

Before you knew it, Sunday came around and it was starting to get dark outside your window. The urge to curl up into your blankets and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix was too tempting. The more you watched your TV, the more you stared at your front door. It would take a minute, maybe two at the most, to ask Sunghoon if he’d like to come with you to Jake’s. The worst thing he could do is decline your invitation. He seemed nice enough on Friday when he saw you wearing the ugly sweater and you suppose he’d be nice about letting you down gently. But even so, rejection stings. 

Your feet carried you outside of your apartment door to knock on his. You waited with your heartbeat loud in your ears but heard nothing from the other end of the door. When you peeked down at the small gap below you, there weren’t any shadows or anything indicating that Sunghoon was home. Still, you knocked once more for good measure and waited thirty seconds to see if he would open the door. Even though the most logical explanation is that your neighbor wasn’t home, heat crept up your neck and splashed onto your cheeks as you quickly made your way back inside of your apartment. With the twist of the lock behind you, your couch and TV brought some much needed comfort and distraction from feeling embarrassed. 

Heeseung hadn’t asked you about Sunghoon on Monday or Tuesday, but seemed to remember when Jake sent a reminder earlier this morning. He swung by your office as the temperature dipped and you updated him on what transpired over the weekend with a defeated sigh. Ever the optimist, Heeseung told you to try again tonight since you might have a better chance at catching Sunghoon during a weeknight. 

The day goes by slower than you’d like and when Heeseung drops you off at your apartment, you make a dash for your sanctuary and rid yourself of the day’s grime by spending a long time underneath the hot shower. Work is simultaneously ramping up and slowing down as everyone is trying to complete projects before winter recess and you feel all of the tension leave your body once the hot water soothes over your shoulder blades. It’s still relatively early in the evening when your hair is half dry and you’ve just finished eating dinner. The entire time you wash your dirty dishes, your mind can’t help but wander towards Sunghoon and what Heeseung said earlier about trying to ask him again. Surely he’s in his apartment at this hour on a Wednesday evening. 

You decide to bite the bullet. After grabbing the cardigan that rests on the back of your couch, you put it on and decide against changing into your shoes since you’ll be stepping out for just a few minutes. Sunghoon’s door stares back at you as you close your own behind you and this time, you can hear the soft sounds of R&B behind it. 

This makes your heart rate pick up speed because the real possibility that you’ll be face to face with Sunghoon becomes too real for you to handle. You could barely utter complete sentences to him last week. What makes you think you could do it now? The same scenarios of rejection and humiliation ruminate in your mind the longer you stand outside. You contemplate going back inside but the thought of telling Heeseung you chickened out and seeing a potentially disappointed expression on his face makes you knock on Sunghoon’s door. 

Unlike the last time, you hear the sound of slippers shuffling against a hardwood floor. The lights are on from what you can tell underneath the gap of the door and you start to panic when you see a shadowy figure blocking that light. You assume Sunghoon must be looking through the peephole and resist the urge to fix your hair in case it looks horrible. The door opens momentarily.

“Hey. What’s up?” Sunghoon wears a pair of dark green sweatpants and a large graphic t-shirt that makes him look like the stereotypical boy next door. You look up at him and gulp.  

“Sorry to bother you,” you apologize, suddenly feeling a lump growing in the back of your throat. 

“You’re not bothering me,” Sunghoon says it with a smile. He opens the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t really want to because you’re afraid you might trip and fall on your way inside, but you take up his offer anyway.

“Sure.” It comes out as a squeak.

His apartment is tidy and well kept with artwork adorning the walls in his living room. It’s more spacious than your own and his furniture makes the room look bigger than it probably is, with couches against the wall and a large TV in front of it. There are photographs hung in silver frames and pictures of people you don’t recognize, along with shelves of knick knacks and other small statues you assume are artwork he’s acquired over time. Sunghoon’s living room gives you the impression that he’s somebody who cares about taking care of himself and his space. He sees that you’re particularly drawn to the photo gallery on his wall and you feel him standing next to you.

“I took most of these pictures.” 

“Are you a photographer?”

“Not professionally, no. Photography is a hobby of mine.” 

“You’re really good.” 

“Thank you.” Sunghoon looks at you before averting his gaze back to the photo wall. “My mom gave me my first camera when I was eleven and I took it with me everywhere I went. Are you a photographer too?” 

You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t have an artistic eye like you do. But I appreciate good photos when I see them, or so I’d like to think.” Sunghoon smiles at that.

“I’m glad you think my photographs are worthy of praise. This is the first photo I ever took.” He points to an image of a young girl in the center of the photo gallery, whose short arms are reaching for the camera. She wears an infectious smile on her face that reveals a dimple on the side of her cheek. 

“Wow, you were really good even back then. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“That’s my younger sister,” Sunghoon says with a fond smile. “I got this camera on my birthday and she wanted to see it after my dad helped me set it up. I think this might be my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.” 

“It’s a great shot.” You compliment Sunghoon sincerely and turn your head to look at him. He clears his throat. 

“What is it that you came here for?” 

“Oh, right!” Sheepishly balancing on both of your feet, you clasp your hands behind your back and lick your lips. “I, um, well…One of my best friends is hosting a housewarming party at his apartment, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.” 

Sunghoon points at himself. “Me?” You nod. “I didn’t think we were that close.” You try not to let him see how embarrassed you are. 

“Sorry, it’s probably weird that I asked you even though we barely know each other, right?” It seems as though your brain cannot stop you from speaking, a habit you have every time you begin to feel nervous. You start to back away towards his front door. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been neighbors for almost a year and I thought to myself, why not make new friends? My friend told me to invite anybody I wanted to and we have a lot of the same friends, so I knew they’d be there too.” You wince at the sound of your voice. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you and for asking.” 

Sunghoon shakes his head and grabs the doorknob before you can. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m honored that you invited me, actually. Living by yourself gets kind of lonely at times. It’s nice to go somewhere that isn’t home for a few hours. I’m a bit of an introvert and would like to make more friends.” 

“You don’t seem like an introvert to me,” you blurt out before slapping your palm over your mouth. “I mean, you’re doing just fine with me.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“My friend’s a great host and loves meeting new people. You’ll make at least one friend by the time you leave. Even if you don’t, there’s gonna be food there, so you’ll have a free meal out of it.” 

“Should I bring anything?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I feel like I shouldn’t come there empty handed if it’s a housewarming.” 

“I’m making peppermint brownies,” you tell him. “I’ll say it’s from both of us.” 

Sunghoon seems to be satisfied with your answer. “When’s the party?” 

“This Saturday at six. We could, uh, go together? If you want to, that is.” 

“It makes sense to go together. Do you drive? I can drive us if you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t drive.” Your cheeks feel warm at your admission and you don’t know why your inability to operate a car makes you feel a bit bashful. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though. 

“Okay, I’ll drive us. Where does your friend live?”

“Not too far. He’s about twenty minutes from us.” 

“I’ll knock on your door around 5:30,” Sunghoon says with a single nod. He reaches around you to open his door for you. 

“Sounds good!” Sunghoon smiles and waves before saying goodnight. You watch him as the door closes and rush back into your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest as you sit on your couch and text Heeseung about everything that just transpired. When he asks if you asked for Sunghoon’s number, you slouch. You didn’t think about that and now you’re too embarrassed to back and ask for it. 

Three days pass by quicker than you anticipated and your plate of peppermint brownies sits covered in tin foil on your kitchen counter as you wait for Sunghoon to knock on your door. You spent the entirety of the day worrying about the sweet treat and giving yourself enough time to get ready. Perhaps it’s a bit worrisome that you spent a good chunk of time standing in front of your closet to pick an outfit for tonight, but you want to make a good first impression on Sunghoon without the ugly sweater or pajamas you wore when you invited him to Jake’s party. 

You settle with flattering jeans and a nice top with an oversized leather jacket and find yourself wondering what kind of lipstick you should put on. It feels silly to worry about these things for a person who likely wouldn’t notice that type of effort, so you settle with something that compliments your skin tone but isn’t too over the top for a casual hang out. It’s just before 5:30 when you hear your doorbell ring and your heart rate perks up at the thought of Sunghoon waiting for you. 

“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon pathetically.. Sunghoon’s wearing a light grey quarter zip sweater with a few buttons hanging loose and black trousers. You avoid gawking at him from the threshold of your doorway, but it’s hard not to. 

“Long time no see,” he jokes. “Are you ready to head to the party?” His questions bring your eyes back to his face and you smile at him awkwardly. 

“Can you hold this for a second?” You hand Sunghoon the bag with Jake’s ugly sweater. “Let me get the brownies.” You barely register that Sunghoon’s holding a bag of his own until you walk back with the dessert, successfully locking your door without dropping your keys. “What's in the bag?” 

Sunghoon looks at you sheepishly. “I went out and bought some wine because I’d feel bad taking credit for your brownies when I didn’t help make them. There’s some soju in there too because I started to overthink and wondered if any of your friends drank wine.” 

You beam at Sunghoon. How thoughtful of him. “Wine and soju are perfect. The guys will probably drink that up before you get the chance to introduce yourself and I’ll happily drink the wine. My friend Jay might, too.” 

“I’m excited to meet your friends,” Sunghoon says as the two of you walk side by side towards the elevator. He presses the button and lets you walk inside the contraption first. “It’s been a while since I got the chance to meet new people.”

“If they make you uncomfortable or anything, let me know and we can leave.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you like them, then so do I.”

“That doesn’t seem very introverted of you.” He smiles at you and shrugs.

“I’m trying to get out of my shell.” Sunghoon lets you step out of the elevator and guides you to his car. “I keep to myself most of the time but I have my moments. It’s easy to get lost in a city as busy as Seoul but sometimes it gets a bit lonely.” 

He unlocks the door and puts the sweater in the backseat, along with the brownie tray on the floor for extra stability. You watch him open the passenger door for you and smile as you climb inside. Even the interior of his car is orderly and pristine. Sunghoon has you typing in Jake’s address before the two of you hit the road. 

Sunghoon drives like an expert, weaving between lanes without causing collisions or disturbance to the traffic. He uses his turn signals, which you appreciate, and doesn’t get too angry when people cut him off unnecessarily. He looks a bit too good from where you’re sitting with his jawline looking sharper than the edge of a knife with the glow from headlights shining across his face. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful Sunghoon looks from where you are and you’re having a hard time believing someone as handsome as him is talking to someone as awkward as you. 

“Are you from Seoul?” you ask him in the midst of the silence. His music hums in the background and pairs well with the smooth sound of his car’s engine. 

“No, I’m not.” Sunghoon spares you a glance. “I’m from a small suburb just outside of Busan.”

“Do you miss it?” His smile falters and you almost regret asking.

“Sometimes, but I think I’ve found my footing here. I love the city life and I like that everything is so different and loud. There are a million ways to live your life and nobody expects you to follow a certain path.” 

“Yeah, I agree with that. I’m from a small fishing town a few hours away from here where everyone comes from a long line of farmers and fisherman. It’s hard to carry that burden and expectation when fishing is the last thing you want to do with your life.” 

“People have a crazy way of making you feel indebted, don’t you think?”

You nod. “Agreed. Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying my time in Seoul. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, theoretically. Everyone back home used to tell me about the amount of bills I’d have to pay and how dangerous big cities are, but I’ve found a home here that I never felt back in my neighborhood. It’s like nobody knows who I am and I find comfort in that.” 

“I feel the same way. I can be whoever I want to be without people telling me it’s wrong. I don’t have to live my life by another person’s expectation and there are so many different things I could be doing with myself. How long have you been in Seoul? Have you visited your hometown at all?” 

“I’ve been here for eight years, if we count my university days, but I’ve been living here full time for four years. I went back home for a few months after graduating before getting the job I have now.” You play with your fingers as you speak, the feeling of guilt bubbling to the surface. “As for going home, well, I’ve been back but it’s hard to find the time with my job.”

“I understand that. I haven’t been home in a while either. I don’t really want to go back either.” You want to ask him why but don’t. 

“Does your younger sister still live there?” 

“She’s still back home and lives with our parents while he’s finishing up university in Busan, actually.” 

“Oh, that’s cool! It’s nice of your parents to let her stay at home while she studies.” Sunghoon smiles in a way you can’t decipher. 

“Yeah, really nice.” 

Sunghoon parks right in front of Jake’s apartment just when you’re starting to regret bringing up his family. You risk looking over at him and an apology sits on your tongue because it seems like a sore subject for him based on the short response, but Sunghoon exits the car and grabs the alcohol and the bag that contains the ugly sweater. You carry the brownies and feel a bit self conscious when you feel him walking behind you. Your shoes feel heavy around your feet and despite having been over to Jake’s apartment more times than you can count on both hands, you second guess every step you take on the way to his front door. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sunghoon tells you after a beat of silence as you approach Jake's front door. You want to say something, but the door opening interferes with your thoughts. 

“Hey, you made it!” Jake ushers the two of you inside and by force of habit, you take off your shoes and out on the designated slippers you purposely left here when he first moved in. “Did you bring the sweater?” 

“The fact that you want to keep that ugly thing concerns me.” Heeseung gives you a hug and grabs the brownies from your hands as you struggle to take your coat off. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.” 

“Sunghoon has the sweater.” When you’re settled, you grab the paper bag and hand it to Jake. The warmth of his apartment feels comforting until you remember that your neighbor is a complete stranger in a new environment. You turn around to see him balancing awkwardly with a bag of alcohol behind his back. “Everyone, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is…everyone.” 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at your friends who’ve all gathered around to see the newcomer. Heeseung comes back after he’s put the dessert in the kitchen. The bottles in Sunghoon’s hands ring against one another, which makes Jake’s ears perk up. 

“Did you bring something?” 

“Wine and soju. She told me not to bring anything but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 

“I told him we could bring brownies together.” Jake makes a face at you and grabs the bag of alcohol from Sunghoon’s hands, pulling him further into the apartment. 

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” He turns back to you. “The thought that you could’ve deprived us of alcohol is insane, actually.” 

You purse your lips and fold your arms in front of your chest. “He could’ve brought everyone ear muffs, for all you know. What are you gonna do with them if your big ass ears can barely handle your headphones?” 

“Ignore them,” Heeseung says to Sunghoon as he approaches the two of you. “They fight like siblings. I’m Heeseung.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m starting to think you guys are either really close or secretly hate each other.” 

“I hate Jake and love everybody else.” Jake bumps your hip and smiles at you, and you find that you can’t keep up that faux attitude for very long. He pulls you into a hug before properly introducing himself to Sunghoon and walks to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and store the rest in his refrigerator. 

“Do you want a drink or some food? We have a little pot luck going on.”

“I could use a drink.”

Heeseung beckons Sunghoon towards the kitchen while Jay steps beside you, and your neighbor turns back to look at you before disappearing around the corner. “See? It’s not so scary once you take the first step.” 

“Your face was chiseled by God. You of all people don’t have to worry about rejection.”

Jay laughs at that. “Still, though. You’ve been talking about Sunghoon for so long that I was getting worried he might’ve been a figment of your imagination.” 

“I might be delusional, but I’m not crazy.”

“We all have our ways to cope.” You bump your shoulder with his. “You should know we’re all rooting for you and Sunghoon.” 

“Oh my God, it’s not like I pictured myself marrying him!” You whisper-yell loud enough for him to hear through gritted teeth and smack his bicep. “I just think he’s cute. The thought of being rejected by him scares the shit out of me.”

“He’s just a guy?” 

“A beautiful, charming guy.”

“Again, just a guy.” 

It’s his turn to make you laugh. “You always keep me grounded, Jongseong.” 

“Who else will? But anyway, you should also know that Jake decided to host this housewarming party because Heeseung told us you ran into him on your way to work.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out by that.” 

“It’s Jake we’re talking about. He has his ways of showing it, but he’s a sentimental guy.” 

“I guess I should thank him if tonight goes well.”

“Don’t stress about anything too much.” Jay starts to walk towards the kitchen and beckons for you to follow him. “Let’s get you a drink.”

You spot Sunghoon first, who leans against Jake’s counter while he looks at all of the food your friends brought (Chick-Fil-A catering, because he’s been craving it and Heeseung offered to pay for half of it). There’s an impressive selection of alcohol beside the large platter of breaded chicken, and macaroni and cheese that smells like it’s just been pulled out of the oven. Sunghoon seems entertained enough with Jake fixing him a plate and opening a bottle of beer for him. You stand beside Jay and feel a bit silly worrying over whether or not your guest feels comfortable with your group of friends, but he seems to be doing okay because he isn’t searching for you. 

“How do you guys know each other?” 

“This one spilled coffee on me when we first met.” Heeseung laughs at the memory and the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. He’s talkative when he has enough alcohol in his system and the nostalgia makes you curl into yourself as Jay hands you a bottle of beer. Everyone looks at you when Heeseung points in your direction. 

“She’s really fucking clumsy.”

“Thanks for the commentary, Jake,” you say sarcastically. 

“We work together at a marketing agency and started around the same time,” Heeseung explains further. “She just moved to the city and we clicked on our first day.” 

“I met the other two through Heeseung, actually.” Sunghoon looks between Jay and Jake when you gesture, who each seem like they’ve also started drinking before you arrived. 

“We’re friends from college and we all decided to stay around the area after graduating.” Jay pours himself a glass of wine and you can see Sunghoon beginning to perk up when he notices. You find that kind of cute. 

“Heeseung’s the reason we’re all friends.” Jake pats his friend on the back. “It’s funny though because we actually all met her at his housewarming all those years ago too.” 

“Huh,” says Sunghoon. “What a coincidence. Sounds like you guys have a thing for housewarming parties.” 

“I’ll take up any excuse to host. It’s how we get her to come out of her shell.” Your cheeks warm up but you aren’t sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because everyone’s looking at you again. 

“She’s a bit of an introvert, but she’s really fun when you get to know her. Sorta like a diamond in the rough type of thing.” 

“Okay, wow! We don’t have to talk about me.” 

Jake points at a grocery store receipt on his refrigerator and grins. “This is the first time she bought groceries for me when I moved in a few months ago. She’s a bit sentimental and put this on when she came over for the first time. It’s nice, though.” 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. Sunghoon smiles at you and those fairytale-like butterflies in the pit of your stomach feel like they’re flying in a metal cage. 

“I like that you’re sentimental. You’re a little like me. I decided to come to this party because somebody else gave me the choice to be social.” 

“Yeah.” You’re a bit breathless and you’re sure Jay’s grinning beside you. “I get a bit intimidated when I do something different or meet new people.”

“Who doesn’t?” You suppose he’s right. 

“She’s incredible with gifts, too. Last year, she got me a signed guitar by my favorite musician because they worked on a campaign together.” Jay takes out his phone to show Sunghoon a photo of the autographed instrument. 

“So thoughtful,” Sunghoon says absentmindedly. It throws your heart in a loop.

“There is so much more to talk about beyond me,” you say, embarrassed that your friends are doting on you in front of Sunghoon. The attention is a bit too much and you grab another beer on your way out of the kitchen, choosing not to look back at the four boys who all laugh at your exit. 

The entire night goes smoother than you could’ve ever hoped for. Your friends leave the weird, overbearing protectiveness in the kitchen when you walk out of it and talk to Sunghoon like he’s their friend too. It still makes you a bit shy when they actively support you in this crush because you aren’t used to this level of care and trust in people. Affection makes you a bit uncomfortable and you wish it didn’t.

Sunghoon seems like he’s enjoying himself as well. You can tell he’s a little buzzed but stopped drinking halfway through the night to sober up by the time he has to drive. Even in your inebriated state, you appreciate his sense of responsibility. He’s rolled the sleeves of his quarter zip up and you try your best not to drool over his toned arms every time he moves his hands when he talks. Sunghoon looks so effortlessly cool when with your friends and it’s almost as if he’s known the three of them for as long as you’ve known them to the point where you’re questioning if he’s truly an introvert or not. 

It’s this level of comfort that keeps you in Seoul. Surrounding yourself with people who support you unconditionally feels like a reward after spending your childhood wishing for the friends you have now. It feels like everybody has a place in your life because you’ve done the work to keep people who love you for who you are rather than somebody they assume you to be. It’s nice to let go of the high walls you’ve built around yourself for protection. 

Eventually, half of the alcohol is gone and so has all of the food. Jake’s had a bit of influence over your drunken state because as he puts it, he’s the host and needs to make sure everybody is having a good time. You’re not one to blame him though, since you’ve been accepting every shot and drink he’s put in your hand. Jay’s the one who prevents Jake from giving you anything more when he sees the way you’re swaying in your spot on the floor where all of you have formed a circle. 

Jake returns from the kitchen after throwing away empty bottles. “Damn, so all of us are staying here for the holidays?”

“I haven’t decided if I’m staying or not, if that counts for anything. My parents are going to be in London but there’s a month and a half until Christmas, so I have some time to decide.” 

“Sunghoon, you’ve got to be crazy rich if you can afford to fly to Europe at the last minute.” You’re about to scold your friend but Sunghoon just laughs. 

“I suppose I’m a bit privileged like that. I’ve spent every holiday season back home and wanted to try something different this year.”

“What does Christmas in your hometown look like?” 

“Really cold. Almost as cold as Seoul when the snow begins to fall. We take Christmas seriously since we’re primarily known as a holiday destination for people who like that kind of stuff. A lot of our publicity revolves around the holidays, so my city is a little bit like a winter wonderland. At least, that’s what they want you to believe.” 

“Sounds like the perfect place for you,” Heeseung says as he nods over at you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“She loves Christmas. She can’t get enough of it and does everything holiday-related as soon as summer ends.” 

“Do you like Christmas that much?” Sunghoon asks you with apprehension in his tone.

“You don’t?” 

Sunghoon shrugs at your small outburst. “Our whole thing is about Christmas and holiday festivities. It gets a little old when you’re surrounded by it all the time” 

“Sounds like a dream.” He smiles at you. 

“I’m sure you’d like it there. My parents love the holidays and go all out every year. It’s a bit corny but they’re wholesome people and I know they love their country as much as anyone else.”

“She always knows what’s going on around town if it has anything to do with the holidays,” Jake tells him. 

“Oh, really?”

“Did you know there’s gonna be a Christmas market right next to Yonsei? They’re gonna be selling a bunch of baked goods and decorative stuff. I heard their food trucks are really good.” 

Jay chimes in. “We should go next weekend.” Jake elbows his ribcage. “Actually, you two should go together.” 

“Us?” Sunghoon points between him and yourself. 

“Yeah, why not?” Jake shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. “She’s a huge fan of the holidays and you’ve never experienced it here. Why not see what Christmas in Seoul looks like?” 

“I’m not big on those kinds of things.” Your heart plummets and you don’t really know why. You put a smile on your face anyway. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Sunghoon. I don’t mind doing these things alone and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” 

There is an indescribable look on Sunghoon’s face when you finish speaking and the living room is completely silent. He peeks at you through his long eyelashes and it feels as if he’s inspecting you from where he sits. Neither of your friends say anything either and you’re one second from awkwardly laughing when you realize nobody’s saying anything until Sunghoon speaks up again. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“You really don’t have to.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “It sounds like you’re really excited about it. I might be tired of Christmas but maybe you can change my mind.” 

His words fly right over your head and Heeseung can see it in the way you beam at the mention of Sunghoon’s proposal. Even he hears the absurdity of it all when he looks at Sunghoon, who doesn’t spare anybody else a glance. You try to contain your excitement and keep smiling to a minimum, but you feel your cheeks harden anyway and Sunghoon smiles right back at you. 

“We could go tomorrow!” 

“You’ve had quite a bit to drink,” Heeseung reminds you. “Maybe next weekend?” 

“You, of all people, should know that I don’t get hangovers. I'm too excited just thinking about it.”

“We can go tomorrow if you’re not too tired. I can check in with you when I wake up. How does 10 AM sound?” 

You sigh, content. “Perfect.” 

When the conversation starts to die down naturally, everybody seems to be under the impression that it’s time to go. You say goodbye to your friends and thank Jake for hosting the party, choosing not to tell him what Jay had revealed to you earlier. Sunghoon seems like he had a great time because as you’re putting your shoes on, you see him exchanging numbers with everybody else. Sunghoon carries the empty tray that was once filled with dessert and tells Jake to keep the rest of the alcohol, no doubt solidifying him as someone he’d want to keep around. The drive back to your apartment feels too long for your liking and your body feels heavy when the two of you arrive at your respective doors. 

“Thanks for driving. I promise I don’t usually get this drunk.” You hiccup. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I only get this drunk when I’m with this specific group of friends.” 

“It’s fine. It’s nice to let go every once in a while.” 

You look up at him. “Did you have fun?” 

“I did,” he says with a single, firm nod. “Your friends are really funny. I was kind of worried about it on the way here because I tend to be really quiet when I meet new people for the first time, but it felt like we knew each other already.” 

“They knew about you.”

“Did they?” 

“Mhm.” You hiccup again. “I told them about my new neighbor a while ago and thought you looked cool, but I’m a little awkward, you know? I don’t really know how to talk to people without someone else acting as a buffer.” 

“Could've fooled me. You did just fine.” 

“That’s because you saw me in Jake’s ugly fucking sweater.” You make a face at the memory, cheeks heating up at the look on Sunghoon’s face when his eyes roamed from the fabric to your face. “You called me ugly.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I called the sweater ugly. Not you.” 

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” Your question catches Sunghoon off guard, but you’re already fishing for your apartment keys when he looks at you. 

“No, I don’t.” You don’t seem to be paying attention to him as you successfully jam your keys into the lock on the second try. He sees a peek inside when you open the door and watches you stumble inside before latching onto the doorknob to balance yourself. 

“Thanks for coming with me, Sunghoon. I’m really glad you had fun. I think my friends like you a lot.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. They’re a little protective over me and like to make sure any guy I hang out with is cool. You know how it is.” Sunghoon holds the door open for you while you take your shoes off and throw your purse somewhere on your couch before turning around to look at him. 

“I mean it, though. Thanks for coming and dealing with me and my friends. We’re a little bit of a handful.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. “Not in the way you think. It’s nice that you have people in your life that you can be yourself around and it seems like they love you just as much as you love them.” 

“I really love my friends. But don’t tell them I said that.” Sunghoon pretends to zip his mouth shut. 

“Your secret's safe with me.” You look at him with an unreadable expression, but it gets replaced with a tired smile. 

“Sleep well, okay? My friends are your friends.” 

“You’re so generous,” he says with a laugh. You take a step forward but retract when the sober part of your brain reminds you that the two of you aren’t likely close enough to give each other a hug goodbye. 

“...Do you still want to come to the Christmas market with me tomorrow?” 

“I’ll give you one chance to convince me that the holidays are fun, but only if you wake up without a hangover.” He laughs when you give him a mock salute.

“I don’t get hangovers, remember?” You tap the side of your head with your pointer finger. Sunghoon smiles down at you before pulling his phone from the back of his pocket. 

“I should probably get your number too.” 

“Oh.” He hands it to you and your fingers suddenly feel numb. You manage to type your number and try to think of something cute and quirky to put as your contact, ultimately settling with your name followed by the ‘:)’ symbol. It’s casual but you think it makes you stand out from generic contact names, as Sunghoon seems like the kind of guy who keeps everything straight to business. 

“I’ll text you so you have my number too.” You pull out your phone when you see him typing. 

Unknown: It’s Sunghoon! :) 

You feel like a creep trying to bite back a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t push yourself if you wake up too tired but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep tonight.” 

“I promise. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

***

You aren’t sure whether you’re pleased or not when you wake up at eight o’clock on the dot with no chance of falling back asleep in sight. You turn to see that your phone is fully charged and force yourself to  leave your warm, comfortable bed to prepare yourself for the day. You don’t respond to the text Sunghoon sent last night and don’t know if he’s going to keep up his end of the bargain and go with you to the Christmas market, but you decide to get ready in the event that he was serious about it. 

Your friends text you too, both in the group chat and separately. Heeseung, as always, is telling you not to overthink anything and enjoy spending time with your neighbor crush. He tries to be as encouraging as he can but can’t help slipping in a few jokes here and there about how fast you’re growing up (even though you’re only a few months younger than he is). Jay sends you words of encouragement too, but he keeps it straight to the point and tells you to buy him something that you think he’d like if you stumble across anything. Jake, on the other hand, makes far too many inappropriate jokes that you have no choice but to laugh. You feel something akin to a high school crush getting ready for a first date even though this isn’t technically a date. 

You’ve managed to pull yourself together and see that the time is half past nine when you check the clock. Sunghoon hasn’t texted you at all today so you take the liberty to let him know you’re awake and hope you don’t come off as pushy or overly eager. But he responds in kind and tells you he’s getting ready and will be knocking on your door soon. 

True to his word, Sunghoon stands at your doorstep when it’s 10 AM.

“You look so cozy,” he says. 

Never mind that you’re swearing something you deemed cute and casual that pairs well with the low temperature outside along with the snowfall from last night. Sunghoon steps out looking like a model himself with his tailored trousers, a graphic shirt, and a denim jean jacket. He looks like the epitome of every girl’s fantasy of the boy next door once again.

“You look really good.” You say it before you can catch yourself and he laughs. 

“You think so?” Your eyes snap up at him as you frantically close your door behind you and lock it.  

“Will you be warm enough in that?” 

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” You frown when he starts to lead you towards the elevator. 

“If you say so.” You see a small silver camera peeking out of his pockets. “What’s that?” 

He pulls it out for you to see. “It’s a Z155 film camera. I got it before moving to Seoul and wanted to learn how to photograph with this type of camera. Cool, right?” 

Your worries dissipate the more you walk through your neighborhood and onto the outdoor market you’ve had bookmarked for weeks. Perhaps it’s the warm coffee amidst the chilly winter that excited you, or the handmade decorations that seem far too inexpensive for what they’re worth, but your face lights up when you walk through the aisles. There are too many vendors for you to look at and the overwhelming feeling perks up in your chest when you see different people trying to attract customers. But you’d argue that’s one of your favorite parts; hearing people talk about why they love the holidays so much brings you a sense of joy and fulfillment you don’t feel elsewhere. Sunghoon is a good sport about it too despite being a bit apprehensive at first. He graciously paid for your coffee and breakfast consisting of a warm butter croissant. It melts on your tongue and you regret not buying a second one.

People always ask you why you love the holidays so much and you tell them it’s because there’s no greater joy than being surrounded by your loved ones into the new year. You’ve always been a fan of winter despite the sun setting earlier than it does in the summer. Doing winter-related things in the appropriate season makes you happy, especially if you manage to drag one of your friends along for the ride. You draw the line at caroling, though. That’s taking it a bit too far. 

But the real reason is that Christmastime and the beginning of snowfall always marks a vicious cycle of wishing you could be anywhere but the present. Your childhood was riddled with uncertainties and walking on eggshells around your family and friends, and your household often felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were too afraid of making a mistake and chose to retreat within yourself, operating under the assumption that pleasing everybody else was how to protect yourself and your feelings. 

Prior to moving to Seoul, the start of the cold season was a reminder that your life wasn’t as picture perfect as you liked to imagine it was. No amount of television shows or fictitious scenarios running through your head before falling asleep would ever negate the neglect and absent feeling of joy in your heart as autumn turned into winter. You used to bide your time by hoping the months would roll past you until the springtime arrived. It always felt humiliating to hear your friends tell you about their vacations and all of the presents they received that year when the most your family could do was keep the lights on. That emptiness in the depths of your heart felt like it was void of feeling anything at all, and the holidays served as a reminder that things wouldn’t get better. 

It’s no surprise when Sunghoon turns to you as you both walk through the aisles of jewelry and artwork vendors when he asks you why you love Christmas so much. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to give the rehearsed spiel you reserve for people who don’t know you very well, and instead give him a half-truth.  

“This time of year is hard for some people and I used to feel like the world would stop spinning if I didn’t try to be at least a little happy when I moved to Seoul a few years ago. I was all alone for the first time in my entire life and barely knew anybody, and had to come up with my own way of cheering myself up since I spent it alone. I did a bunch of things by myself, like going to holiday markets or ice skating. I didn’t mind the solitude that much.” 

“Were you friends with Heeseung and the guys at that time?” 

“Barely. Heeseung and I were only coworkers back then but we sat across from each other every day to be friendly. But I didn’t know him as well as I do now and had a few roommates who went back home for a couple of weeks. It was pretty lonely and I hated feeling like I was stuck when I was the one who wanted to move to the big city.” 

“I think I understand. Christmas is a reminder of overcoming hardship for your first time living by yourself.” 

You nod, a bit relieved that he understands you a little bit. “Kind of, yeah. I didn’t grow up in the happiest household and wanted to do something good for myself since I left my hometown. It feels like a shame if I don’t at least try.” 

“I think that’s the most profound thing anybody has ever said to me.” 

“I sound like one of those generic books with corny quotes.” 

“Can’t be corny if it’s true.” 

You smile at him. “I’ve become a lot better about being positive and optimistic since getting to know the guys, too. Hanging out with them during my second year in Seoul made me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, and even when they all went home to visit their families, I didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around me when I was alone for a few days. It felt nice to trust people and realize that people cared about me the way I wanted them to.”

“They sound like really great friends.”

“They are. I don’t know what I’d do without them, if I’m being totally honest. I think my mom was worried about me for the first year of me living here because I barely talked about meeting anybody. She used to complain that I always talked about work and that I stayed in too much on the weekends. I used to think she was just berating me but I get it now.”

“Sounds like she wanted you to get out and have fun.” 

“Yeah. I guess my mom was trying to tell me to get a life without directly telling me. She loves it when I send her pictures of myself outside of my apartment and I fill her in on things I’ve been up to that don't have to do with my career. She’s proud of me in that sense but always reminds me that there’s more to life than my job.”

“You have a great mom, from what I can tell. She has your best interest at heart and I think it’s sweet of her to care about you so much. What about your dad? Do you talk to him at all?” 

You look to the ground. “No. He passed away four years ago.” 

“Oh.” Sunghoon nods silently and tucks his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s no need to be. It happened a long time ago.” 

Sunghoon nods from your peripheral vision. “Do you see your mom often? Does she visit you in Seoul?” 

You shake your head. “She works at a fish dock and can’t take a lot of time off.” 

“I see. Do you visit her, then?” 

You’re acutely aware of Sunghoon walking beside you but his footsteps fall deaf to your ears when you think about your mother and picture her throwing nets of fish into baskets to sell to merchants in the same afternoon. She wakes up hours before the sun rises to greet fishermen by the docks as soon as daylight breaks and leaves when the space is clean and the fish is sold. You picture her in rubber overalls and boots, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail with a mask covering the lower half of her face to avoid the scent of the fish even though she tells you she’s used to it by now. 

It was hard to deal with her waning hours in your childhood and you often yearned for her presence when you awoke to see no trace of her in your household. You had a knack for differentiating the difference in gait between her and your father, and hearing the heavier steps of his footsteps always made you disappointed. Feeling his presence outside of your bedroom door felt like it was a prison sentence.

In a town that seldom encourages any lifestyle aside from fishing and farming, you always find a bit of solace in creative writing clubs and the school musicals as a way to excuse yourself from the small town life. You’d picture yourself underneath a single spotlight, standing center stage where everybody in the audience regarded you as someone who’d make it far beyond the borders of the isolated town. You imagine them roaring in applause when you took your final bow with your mother sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

But life and finances were immediate priorities to keep the roof over your heads and the table full of food. The electricity bill was renewed solely by your mother’s efforts to keep the three of you afloat whereas your father could barely keep a job for longer than a few months before the inevitable discussion of his unemployment. You recall hearing hushed conversations that always escalated to loud arguments just outside of your bedroom door and shoved headphones into your ears to drown out the sound of an unhappy marriage. 

His absence was deafening and there were moments where you preferred a chaotic household over a quiet one. In the mere weeks that followed his death, life seemed to move on for your mother but not for you. She still woke up before dawn and never complained about the cold weather during the winter months or the heavy rainfalls in the summer. Whereas she endured life as if he hadn’t passed, you carried the weight of emotional neglect and dissonance of your relationship with him. 

The funeral was a month later and his cremated remains were spread along the larger lake nearby because he always said he would never choose to move away from water. The boat ride to the deepest part of the lake was uncomfortable and frustrating as your mother and two of his closest friends lamented over his passing, barely touching on the hardship he put your family through in his years being alive. It seemed like everyone was able to forgive him and move on as if every single person in his family went unscathed. Listening to them recite their happiest memories with him felt like a knife twisting in your heart until it stopped beating. 

Moving away was bittersweet, too. The neighborhood you grew up in never felt like a home to you but it would always be nostalgic. It was a plot of land with four walls and a roof, and yet the memories you’ve made haunt every corner of your street like a ghost that refuses to cross into the light. The grey walls look more dreary and dull than it had before and the large tree that grew on the lawn was cut down after years of neglect. Your old house looked brand new and unrecognizable. Everything had changed too quickly for your liking. Even when you packed your last box in the moving van, the emptiness of your bedroom felt like you were saying goodbye to a part of your life you’d never yearn for again. You’ve never looked back since. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Sunghoon brings you out of your temporary stupor. 

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts.” 

He gently knocks his shoulder into yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t think talking about even more depressing things is gonna put you in the holiday spirit.” 

“Keeping them to yourself just to make other people comfortable won’t put you in the holiday spirit either.” You know he’s right and begin to gnaw at your inner cheek. 

“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“The nice thing about having friends is that you can say whatever you want and they won't judge you.” Sunghoon smiles at you like he means it. His eyes twinkle underneath the sun and, even if for a moment, you feel like he’s right. 

“My mom and I are close, even if we don’t talk every single day. She works at a fishing dock and that takes up most of her time, and I work at one of the busiest marketing agencies in Korea, which eats up my week. We find the time to talk to each other and I tell her almost everything. I don’t think there’s a secret of mine she doesn’t know. 

“But even so, I love her too much to ever tell her how I’m barely handling everything. It's like I’ve been running into a brick wall every time I try to walk away from grieving. It’s always been the two of us even when he was alive. She raised me the best she could because he was always physically there, but never emotionally present for either of us. His passing left so many questions unanswered and unresolved feelings but it seems like she’s moved on from it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It was a long time ago. My dad and I were never that close. There were a few good memories that I think about from time to time, but sometimes they’re ruined by all of the bad things I think about when I think about him. It’s an endless cycle of self sabotaging and I can’t stop myself from doing it. My mom wants me to visit her for a weekend during the holidays and she keeps asking me when I want to come home, but I keep pushing it off because I can’t bring myself to go back to a place that made me unhappy.” 

Sunghoon remains quiet beside you. When you take a peek at him, he looks as if he’s deep in thought as he looks ahead at the environment and watches the children play on the nearby playground. His eyebrows are furrowed only slightly and his mouth forms a downward pout, and you’re left wondering what he's thinking about. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do you feel guilty for putting it off?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“It’s almost like you know it's the right thing to do but you can’t bring yourself to do it. People teach you that family is everything, but when they force you to act and feel a certain way, it’s like you’re suffocating.”

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I keep telling her I’d think about it but I always feel guilty because it’s just an excuse to put off making a decision. I’d feel guilty if I don’t go, but I can’t bring myself to make that trip, even if she’s just a few hours away.” 

“My parents are a bit similar. They’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, and yet I still feel selfish for wanting to explore myself without them right behind me.” 

“I feel like an awful daughter every time I don’t agree to go home. I know she can tell I feel hesitant about it. I don't want to make her worry and I wish this feeling would go away. I can’t face my fears yet.” 

“Pardon if this is a difficult question for you, but…Is your father the main reason why you don’t want to go back?” 

“Yes.” You answer him meekly, as if telling the truth above a whisper will send you straight to purgatory. “I can’t walk in my neighborhood without hearing the sound of his voice when he yelled at me. Being in my house makes me think of all the times he’d threaten to throw me onto the streets for something as stupid as forgetting to wash the dishes. That place is a carousel of bad memories that I never want to think about ever again.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s normal for me now but it doesn’t make me feel any better if I try to frame it as ordinary. It doesn’t hurt me on most days. I push him out of my mind and focus on the present but the holidays are when I start to think about him and my childhood the most. I’ve never had a peaceful winter. There was always something going on and either Christmas or New Year’s was always ruined.”

“Is that why you love the holidays so much? To override your bad memories and create new ones?” 

“Yes. I never want to feel the way that I did before he passed away and having my friends here with me makes me forget about how sad I get when October rolls around. The weather gets colder but I try to do everything I can to think about how much I have to look forward to now that I’ve got so much time to do whatever I want. I learned that I can’t rely on somebody else to make me feel like I have something to live for.” 

“That’s admirable of you and I hope you know that.” 

“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It is, though. It sounds like you had a rough childhood and your mom was spread thin with her job that it left you with someone who couldn’t take care of you. I can hear it in the way you talk. You’ve got this determination inside of you whether you realize it or not.”

“Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing. I wake up and live my life but it doesn't feel like I’m getting better.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you to understand the grieving process and work through that. You’ll never know if you don’t stick around to find out, will you?” 

“No, I suppose not.” 

“My parents put a lot of pressure on me to perform well in everything. Bad grades weren’t acceptable and I juggled a few different sports to fill my free time. It always felt like they set me on a path that I needed to follow instead of allowing me to figure out myself on my own. I know they meant well and I know they loved me, but sometimes I wonder if they’d love me knowing that I want something different than their future for me. 

“How do you handle it?” 

“I don’t.” Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly and the hard snow underneath his foot crunches loudly as you near the end of the aisleway. “I keep putting it off like you do. I’m here in Seoul because they agreed to let me explore the city for a while until it’s time for me to return and discuss the future they want for me.” 

“What do they expect you to do?”

Sunghoon purses his lips. “They want me to take over the family business. My father is adamant that I come home and take it seriously because he’s planning on retiring soon and trusts me to be the person who handles everything. They run a local grocery market chain and love that lifestyle but it’s not for me. I want to be here in Seoul and figure out what my life is supposed to look like without them holding onto the dream that I’ll run the company. They’ve made good money off of it and found success as they’re starting to expand, but I don't want to have any part in it.

“I majored in business and operations when I was in university but hated every second of it. I always felt like I was grinding myself to the bones but I did it to make them happy. I never felt like I got the chance to do anything I wanted to do until they agreed to let me move here.” 

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run a grocery store chain.”

Sunghoon beams at that. “I don’t think so either. I like to think of myself as pretty creative but I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t take any photography classes in college and I feel like my time is running up.” 

“The beauty of time is that there’s so much of it. You can do anything you want, whenever you want.” 

“Thanks. I’ve been taking a few photography classes here and there.” He pulls out the camera from his pocket and lets you look at it. “Lately, this is how I’ve been getting my creative fix. It feels good to do anything other than learning about how grocery stores operate. I couldn’t care less about that and I feel like myself when I’m behind the camera.” 

“I like that you’re so passionate about photography, Sunghoon. I can hear how much you love it by how you’re talking about it. It’s nice to hear people talk about their hobbies.” 

“He tries to hide a smile but fails, and instead turns the camera on and holds it above his eye. “Can I take a picture of you?” 

“Me?” 

He pulls it away and grins. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” You stand beside a large collection of snowglobes and pick one up as Sunghoon points the camera at you again. 

“You could’ve been talking to this snowglobe for all I know.” 

“Too bad. I want to take a photo of you. Smile for me.” 

Reluctantly, you do and see the flash go off before putting the snowglobe down and apologizing to the vendor, who doesn’t seem to be displeased with what transpired in front of her. Sunghoon thanks her too with a short bow before turning his camera off and tucking it back inside of his pocket. 

“The fun of film photography is seeing the pictures when they develop. As much as I love learning about lighting and composition, I like it when I don’t think too hard about the photos I take and seeing which ones come out good and which ones don't. It’s always a gamble but it's a safe bet.”

“You’re lucky. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 

He cocks his head. “Maybe not in the way you think you do. Your friends were talking my ear off about how cool you are when it comes to your work. Heeseung told me you’re considering applying for a promotion because of your recent campaigns.” 

You blush and look away from him. “It’s nothing. I don’t think that’s really creative.” 

“You’re amazing, even if you don’t realize it. I think it’s cool that you work so closely with clients and help their vision come to life.” This feels like too kind of a thing for Sunghoon to say after having known you for such a short amount of time, but you can’t deny and say you don’t feel your heart fluttering with every compliment he gives you. 

Instead of responding by stuttering over your words, you drag Sunghoon through the remainder of the market and enjoy multiple warm cups of hot cocoa and try all of the desserts they have to offer. You end up buying a few things for your friends to add to their holiday gifts, even though they’ve been sitting in your bedroom for the past few weeks. Sunghoon reluctantly allows you to cover the lunch bill when you bring up how he bought every beverage and dessert the two of you have tried. He sees you signing the back of the receipt after writing today’s date.

“Why do you do that?” 

You hold the receipt up. “This?” 

“Yeah. Why do you sign it?” 

“I like keeping mementos of things. My fridge is covered in different letters, receipts, and artwork from friends and family. I have an entire box of receipts from important moments that I want to remember. I usually have the people I’m with sign them too and go through the receipts when I feel nostalgic.” 

“Do you think this moment is worth being nostalgic over?” You blush. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sunghoon blushes too. “I think that’s really cute, actually.” You slide the pen over to him. 

“Do you want to sign it?” His signature looks like that of a movie star. Even his penmanship is perfect. “There. Now you can look at this receipt when you miss me.” 

“Or I could just knock on your door until you let me in.”

“What says I’ll let you in?” 

“Because I’m the best neighbor you will ever have and even though you say you don’t like Christmas, you have to admit that you’re having fun.” 

Sunghoon smiles at that. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. I might have to come over to your apartment to see this receipt box of yours.” Sunghoon looks at you with a smile that makes you weak in the knees. It feels like you’re the subject of a reality TV show and you’re waiting for the camera crew to come out of their hiding spots and tell you this is all for show, but that never happens. 

“You know where I live,” you say to him coyly, backing away slowly as you throw your trash away. “Knock on my door any time.” 

Sunghoon laughs and you think you’d rather die than never hear it again.

***

You don’t get the chance to see Sunghoon during the week because of your work schedule but find yourself texting him whenever you get the chance. Your evenings are for catching up on TV shows that are halfway completed and messaging him even though he lives across the hallway. He hasn’t made an effort to come over to your apartment and neither have you, but you find yourself making plans with him to go ice skating with him during the following weekend and choose to look forward to that instead of letting your insecurities get the better of you. 

Heeseung asks you for updates and you can’t help but divulge into the whole truth, including every small thing Sunghoon did or said that made you overthink when he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s attentive and teases you every time you get a bit too shy to tell him how much fun you had with Sunghoon but tells you he’s proud that you’re putting yourself out there and making a new friend. Heeseung tells you that he and your other friends have been texting Sunghoon as well and discovered that they share a lot of common interests, and that they’ve got loose plans to see each other for drinks in the future. It warms your heart to know your friends like Sunghoon enough to include him in things, which makes you feel a little crazy considering he isn’t your boyfriend and you’ve officially known him for about three weeks. 

You find yourself standing on ice skates when the weekend approaches and you’re surprised to see that the outdoor rink is empty for a Saturday afternoon. You’re better than the average skater thanks to a childhood interest in figure skating and buying a ticket to the outdoor rink at least once every winter season. Sunghoon tells you he picked it up as a hobby when he was younger but his agility when he glides on the ice tells you he’s better than he claims. 

It’s chilly and your gloves protect your hands from the biting chill. Sunghoon’s alabaster skin looks like it’s glowing underneath the bright sun and his sunglasses make him look like the epitome of cool if you were to look it up in the dictionary. He keeps himself skating fairly close to you but you aren’t sure if that’s because he wants to be in your personal bubble or not. Either way, you sweat underneath your clothes and try to focus on balancing yourself on top of the hard ice. 

Sunghoon paid for your tickets and skate rentals too. He surprised you by signing his name and today’s date on the receipt for your safekeeping, telling you to keep it in your purse so it doesn’t get lost. He said it like it’s a matter-of-fact and not something only you do because you love being nostalgic about happy memories. Your hands shake as you lace up your skates and Sunghoon patiently waits for you to finish putting on the other shoe before taking up space on the ice. That feels warm.  

“I can’t help but like Christmas a little bit more when I’m on the ice.” Sunghoon takes his hands out of his pockets and runs his hand through his hair, and it makes you want to swoon. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Something about it feels like it should be done only in the wintertime. The Christmas music is helping me feel a little more festive anyway.” 

“There used to be a skating rink by my old middle school before it shut down a few years ago. I’d go with my friends as soon as December hit and learn how to skate because the owner saw me beg my parents to let me take lessons, but it was too expensive. She gave them a discount for my first few lessons.” 

“Did you stop skating?” 

“Yeah. They were able to pay for lessons as I advanced because of a bonus my mom received at work and she chose to spend it on me. My dad never cared that much but attended a few of my lessons here and there when my mom couldn’t drive me.”

“Did you compete?” 

“No, it was mostly for fun. I stopped because the financial burden was getting too much. Figure skating is the only thing I regret quitting.” 

“I stopped skating because it got in the way of my studies.” Sunghoon purses his lips. “I wasn’t aiming to go pro, or anything. It was a fun hobby I liked to do after school but my parents said it took up too much of my time because my grades weren’t straight A’s.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs. “It’s not like I can’t skate anymore but sometimes it felt like I was being primed to take over their company and I could feel that when I was in high school. Ice skating was my way of trying to tell them that wasn’t the life I wanted, but I don’t think they got the message. I ended up quitting halfway into my sophomore year.”

“Do you miss being on the ice? 

“Sometimes. I competed at local competitions and thought about what my life would’ve looked like if I committed to a professional career, but I decided that wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something creative. Anything different than running a grocery chain.”

You bump Sunghoon’s hip. “Sounds like you’ve found your niche in photography.” 

“Ah, I hope so. I should show you some of the photos I have that aren’t on my wall.”

“Do you have a website or an Instagram for your pictures?” 

“No, but I probably should.” 

“You definitely should. I’ll even be your first follower and tell everyone to follow you.” 

Sunghoon smiles down at you. “How sweet of you.” 

“What happens next? You mentioned that your parents let you come to Seoul for a little while, but what happens after that?” 

His shoulders sulk. “Honestly? I don’t know. I moved into this apartment this past January and they said they’d give me a year to do whatever I want before I take over the business. I’m not so sure that I want to go back.” 

“Does that mean you have to move?” Sunghoon avoids looking at you. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” The silence permeated for a moment. 

“I don’t want to leave, though.” Sunghoon clears his throat and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I love Seoul and the freedom to do whatever I want. I work at a photography studio part time to pay for myself. I’m lucky that they agreed to pay my rent but that luck’s running out soon because they want me to come back. 

“It’s funny, though. My younger sister’s the one who wants to run this company because she’s studying business operations and loves it. She thrives in this environment and has always been interested in networking with people my parents know. I couldn’t care less about any of that. She has fun at his client parties but all I want to do is hide in a corner.”

“Why won’t they let her take over the business, then?” 

“My parents want to retire soon. They’ve been at it for so long and people are pressuring them to sell the business because everybody who knows them, knows they want out. My sister’s in her last year of university and isn’t ready to take over just yet. They say she needs more experience even though she’s interning with his division until she graduates.”

“So, what? If you take over, what’s she gonna do?” 

“Ideally, she’d be a co-owner the minute she feels ready to do it. But I think the plan for her is to become an assistant and then find another CEO role in another company. My parents don’t really understand that she and I want to switch places because they’re so focused on their retirement. We don’t know how to bargain with them and it’s become a sore point in our relationship.” 

“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon.” 

“My sister and I talk about this every time we see each other and I can tell she’s upset that they aren’t willing to wait out for her. She knows I don’t want this either, but sometimes it feels like she’s barely there whenever I’m with her.”

“It’s like knowing what you want is right in front of you but out of reach.” Sunghoon agrees in a noncommittal hum and you see him look in front of you at the other skaters. 

“I know how much she wants my position and I’d do anything to give it to her. I just need to convince my parents to wait a few years. I don’t mind helping out from time to time like I do now. But I don’t want to become CEO and work in that industry. I want to be a photographer and have my portraits hanging in museums and in people’s living rooms. Is that too much to ask for?” 

“No, it’s not. You’re so passionate when you talk about photography and it’s really endearing.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, I do. It sounds like your sister is passionate about that CEO role as well. I hope the two of you are able to work things out.” 

Sunghoon sighs from beside you. “Me too. My lease is up in the new year and I’ll have to start packing if they don’t agree to wait a few more years until she’s ready. They’re afraid of bringing it outside help because they’d rather keep this in the immediate family.” The thought of knowing Sunghoon might no longer live across from you sends you into a temporary panic. You’ve just gotten to know him and it feels a bit unfair. “But I don’t want to move. I’m happy here.” 

“Are you?” 

He looks at you and smiles. “I am.” 

“I hope you’re able to stay,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’re fun to be around.” 

“Just fun?” Sunghoon teases, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not charismatic and devastatingly handsome?” 

“No,” you lie, willing the cold air to cool down your warming cheeks. “I would never call you any of those things.” 

“Such a shame, Y/N. You have an incredibly hot neighbor who’s willing to do all of these Christmas things with you.” You smack his bicep. 

“You’re so annoying.” He laughs. 

“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” 

***

The first time Sunghoon saw you was approximately a week after he moved into his apartment. You were wearing blue Bose headphones and looked so determined to unlock your door that Sunghoon chose to keep to himself and not bother you. He couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face and how it made the perfect pout etch itself onto your lips. 

Ever since then, he’s seen you nearly every time he’s stepped out of his apartment and starts to wonder if this is fate telling him that he should make the first move and approach you because you’re friendly enough to nod at him when he passes you throughout the building. But he’s always been an introverted person who falters when it comes to meeting new people. Growing up around investors and adults who didn’t care about anything other than the economy didn’t do great for his confidence, especially since finance and business was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 

His sister was always more outgoing than he was. Sunghoon used to stutter when girls talked to him and couldn’t fathom the idea that anybody would be remotely interested in him enough to develop romantic feelings for him. It often felt like his personality mirrored everybody else’s for the fear of disappointing people to the point where Sunghoon had a hard time figuring out who he was when he wasn’t with his family or anybody who knew him as he grew up. 

Leaving his home to live in Seoul was something akin to a breath of fresh air. He loved his university days because it was the first and only time that Sunghoon could be himself without being afraid of what others would think of him. He experienced many ‘firsts’ while he was away from home–first college party, hangovers, and having sex for the first time. His first girlfriend made him realize he wanted more to live than to live the predestined plan that his parents set out for him. He didn’t want to marry someone into his family only for him to become a shell of a human being if he took on a job he didn’t want to do. When his girlfriend encouraged him to follow in his father’s footsteps because of how wealthy and successful he could be, Sunghoon broke it off with her and never looked back. 

Working for his parents was supposed to be a trial run. For the first three years after he graduated, Sunghoon agreed to come back and work at the company as an entry level assistant and work his way to the top. The weight of their expectations hung over his shoulders every time he stepped foot inside of the tall, intimidating building, and the anxiety he felt never really left him. Sunghoon worked himself to the bone every single day and continued dreaming of a life that was anything but his reality until his parents came to him with the proposition of slowly transitioning into an executive role. Suddenly, it felt like Sunghoon was running out of time and he proposed a year off before he would begin that process. 

Now, Sunghoon finds himself walking into your apartment with these lingering thoughts at the forefront because his parents are indirectly pressuring him to move back home. He ignores their calls and voicemails to the best of his ability. Spending time with you and your friends is a welcomed distraction because he doesn’t have to think about his future. The four of you give him space to be whoever he wants to be, and that isn’t something he’s felt in a very long time. 

“Your apartment looks like the inside of your brain,” Sunghoon tells you as he looks at your colorful furniture and the artwork decorating your walls. He lingers by the gargantuan posters of different cocktails framed neatly and the bar cart you keep by the kitchen in case you feel like having a drink or two on the weekend. “It’s so…you. 

“I worked really hard to make it that way. My Pinterest boards can tell you that much.” 

“I like that you’ve incorporated dark green. It’s pretty.” 

“Dark green is my favorite color. I’ve always wanted a space that felt like a home rather than a place I live in. I bought this green velvet couch when I got promoted the first time.” 

Sunghoon caresses the back of the couch. “Soft. I like it.”

“Do you want a drink, or anything?” 

“Are you gonna make me something festive?”

“I subjected you to ice skating and Christmas music that seemed to have four songs on shuffle the entire time. I think I’ll spare you tonight.”

“I’d like to try something new, if you’re up for it.” You light up and Sunghoon thinks he wants to make you look like that more often. He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you wash your hand and bring out every ingredient before turning to face him. 

“Have you ever heard of a hot toddy?” 

“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” 

“It’s an alcoholic drink I used to make with my friends from college when it starts to get cold. It’s whiskey, honey, and lemon dissolved in hot water.” 

“I don’t see how that’s festive,” he teases. 

“Trust the process, Park Sunghoon. First, boil water in a kettle.” 

Sunghoon watches you assemble the drink that is a bit too complicated for him but appreciated the effort you put into it. You tell him about your friends from college and how some of them have moved far away while others are people you see every once in a while. He hears about how you became a crowd pleaser during one particularly cold December night the day before finals and ended up making dozens of hot toddy’s for the people who lived on your dorm floor. You show him a picture of the makeshift tip jar your roommate made you to collect tips from students who wanted to pay you for the drink and went home with enough money to make you forget about finals. 

You tell him that your friends love this drink too, even if they downplay just how much. You hand him your phone and let him scroll through pictures you took of Heeseung and Jake the last time you made the drinks for everybody. They were hanging off of each other after begging you to add in a shot more than necessary every time you made a new cup. Jay helped you set a makeshift bed on the couch and floor for them to sleep off the alcohol and Sunghoon laughs at their less than flattering faces when you smile with two thumbs up as they pass out from the alcohol. 

Sunghoon has deduced that being here feels comfortable. It’s crazy to him that the four of you managed to weasel your way into his life as quickly as you did. He finds himself playing video games with the guys when they come home from work and they add him into their group chat within a few days of knowing him. Sunghoon’s always had a difficult time keeping friends around because he feels too awkward to socialize and feels like he never learned how to make friends around his age because of the environment he grew up in. He takes a picture of you on his camera despite your protests when he feels like words are too much.

Getting to know you has felt like the climax of a romance film. He’s spent so much time pining after you from afar, from thinking about what your favorite foods might be to what kind of music you listened to. You always looked so polished and head strong, something Sunghoon wished he could be. He’d lie to himself and say he’s attracted to you because you give off a sense of self-confidence that he’s never seen in anybody else, which is partially true, but spending time with you has only made him fall for you even harder. 

He’s only known you for a few weeks but it’s felt like he’s known you for a lifetime. Sunghoon tells you things he’s too afraid to tell other people or admit out loud. You bring out a side of him that wants to make a life for himself instead of listening to people who don’t have his best interests in mind. He loves it when you share your interest in Christmas and winter with him because it feels like he gets to know you better and it takes his mind off of his future. Plus, it helps that you look too cute when you start to get excited about things. Sunghoon can’t bear to be the reason why you would ever cease to feel like that. 

The more the two of you sip on the warm alcoholic cocktail, the more Sunghoon feels his shoulders start to relax. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten anything in a while or because you’re giving him butterflies, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anybody about you because he doesn’t know who he’d tell and he can’t believe he’s standing in your apartment making conversation with you. You laugh at his jokes and give him a tour of your place as he sips on his drink, and the warmth spreads throughout his chest. Suddenly his sweater feels too hot. 

You let him inside of your bedroom and it’s neat, with keepsakes lining your shelves and books on your walls. You’ve got a few floating bookshelves he admires and gawks at because he thinks it makes your room look that much cooler. You’ve got a few pictures of yourself, friends, and family along your desk and a makeup vanity with an impressive mirror on it. Everything in your room feels like it has a place and a reason to be there and Sunghoon can’t help but feel privileged that you’re letting him inside, like he’s supposed to be there too. 

“Is this your box of receipts?” he asks when he sees a small box without a lid on it. There are dozens of receipts haphazardly lying in there and he takes one out when you nod at him. There’s a receipt for a late night doughnut run, a printed copy of the receipt from the couch in your living room, and your first trip to the doctor. He digs to see if he can find the one from the market. “Where’s the receipt from when we went to the market?” 

You point at the board above your desk filled with pictures and other receipts too. Sunghoon looks at it and spots your handwriting and his next to a picture of you as a child. It makes his heart melt a little bit. 

“I like to keep really good memories up here.” 

Sunghoon feels like he could cry. “I’m really happy you had a fun time. I did too, but I didn’t want to come off as weird and tell you that.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird at all. If anything, I didn’t want to come off as too eager to hang out with you when we got back home.”

“Is this a good time for me to confess that I wanted to hang out with you instead of parting ways?” You look away from him to hide your smile and he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Now you’re just buttering me up,” you say in lieu of an answer. You stand impossibly close to him while he looks at the pictures on the board. 

“You were such a cute kid.” 

“I was cuter when I wore pigtails and when I was missing my two front teeth, that’s for sure.” 

“I think you’re doing fine just now.” 

You blush again. “Okay, you’re definitely trying to make me flustered.” 

“Is it working?” Sunghoon grins when you hide your face in his arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“Anyway!” You pull yourself off of him and close the receipt box while he laughs behind you. “That’s enough of that.”

“It’s getting late and I think you put too much whiskey in this.” Sunghoon looks at you with another teasing grin but he’s starting to like catching you off guard like this. 

“I’m not listening to anything you say because you said it was just enough.” Even your faux pout is cute. “Thanks for going ice skating with me.”

“Thanks for making this for me.” He holds up his empty cup and you lead him to the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes for you but you decline and forcibly lead him to the front door when he starts to protest. The exhaustion from today has started to tire him out and his eyes begin to droop when he steps outside. 

“Goodnight, Sunghoon. Thank you for today.” You look up at him with an expression he can’t read. 

“I had a lot of fun. I mean it. You might change my mind about Christmas after all.” 

“There’s nothing I can’t do, Hoonie.” He blushes at the nickname. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

He snorts. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to text you in five seconds after I lock my door.” 

“Good. Who knows? This is a big hallway. Maybe you’d drip and fall a few steps into your journey.” Sunghoon thinks you’re too cute when you’re coy like this. 

“I’ll even text you when I’m tucked in bed so you know I made it safely.” 

The last thing he expects you to do is kiss his cheek. He feels your lips on his skin and his entire body becomes frigid, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe. Sunghoon thinks he might trip on his way back to his apartment at this rate. 

“Goodnight, Hoonie. Text me when you’re home.”

***

You don’t get the chance to spend any time with Sunghoon for the next couple of weeks because your work leaves you too tired to do anything outside of your apartment since it requires a few hours during your weekends. Sunghoon seems to understand and doesn’t push you to go out with him too much. Part of you wants to invite him over to your place for something casual, but your tendency to overthink prevents you from putting that offer on the table. 

Heeseung can tell you’re overwhelmed when he sees you. You hide yourself away in the confines of your office and don’t make conversation with him like you typically would. The start of the holidays mark a tumultuous time for you and he knows that better than anybody else. He can’t help but be a little concerned when you don’t join him for lunch like you typically do if meetings don’t interfere. When he sees you eating at your desk with a pathetic looking sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, he walks into your office without knocking and replaces his lunch with yours. 

“Don’t even think about scolding me for coming here unannounced.” Heeseung gestures at your desk. “Eat.” 

“You don’t deserve to eat a poorly made sandwich.” 

“Oh, and you do?” 

You groan. “No. But I was in a rush and forgot to pack a lunch last night.” 

“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

“My mom keeps asking me if I’m going to come home and I feel so guilty that I keep dodging it. I know she means well, but that’s what makes it worse. She keeps telling me she wants to have one weekend with me for Christmas, even if it isn’t on the actual holiday because she hasn’t seen me in a while. 

“I feel like I’m disappointing her, you know? It’s hard to leave the bubble I’ve created for myself because I know I have to face all of the bullshit I faced with my dad when I go back. It feels like I become the teenage version of myself who couldn’t express her feelings and kept everything bottled up inside. I want to forget all of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore.” 

“Do you want to go?” 

“I do, but I can’t bring myself to actually buy a train ticket. I want to go home and not feel this contempt but I can’t help it. I hate it there. I hate walking through the hallways because I can hear his footsteps and the way he used to yell at me when I did something wrong. I can’t escape these feelings when winter starts. I mean, you know me. The holidays only became what it is because I try not to think about how fucking awful it used to be.” 

“You can’t run from everything forever, though.” Heeseung looks at you like he’s trying to drill his words into your head. “You’ve already done the work to push past it.”

“I know, but it’s hard to be in a place that feels like an empty home. I’m so nostalgic for everything I loved as a kid but it gets tainted when I think about my dad and how hard it was for my mom to raise me by herself. All I can think about is how I felt when I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But on the other hand, I feel so guilty for missing him too. He had his moments and I try to think about that instead of thinking about the bad ones. He’s not here to make me feel like I have to watch my back, but why does it feel like I still have to?”

“You’ve been through a lot and you have to understand that the average person doesn’t go through a lifetime of pain and trauma before they turn twenty-one. It feels like you’re stuck because there aren’t many people who can relate to you.”

You sigh. “I guess so. It feels lonely and isolating. It doesn’t matter how many times I open up to a therapist about it either. It always feels like I’m running so fast that I end up tripping over myself.” 

“So, what are you gonna do about it? Sit here and mope or make a decision?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is, though. You’re somebody who hates waiting around for people to save you. The only way to resolve anything is to pick a decision and stick with it until the end. If you regret it, at least you can say you tried.” 

“It’s really hard to self sabotage when I’m friends with you.” 

Heeseung laughs at that. “I know. I won’t let you do that either.” 

“I think I mostly feel bothersome for always talking about the same old problem to you.” 

“It doesn’t bother me. I care about you and you clearly need to talk to somebody who knows you inside and out. I’ve seen how difficult it is for you to open up and the fact that you’ve grown so close with Sunghoon in a short amount of time is incredible to me.” 

You groan and slump over your desk. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t properly seen him in weeks and feel awful that I have no energy to hang out whenever he asks me to. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ghosting him.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” Heeseung pulls out his phone and lets you glance over his texts with Sunghoon. 

“He asked if you were okay a while back and said he was worried since you kept declining to go out. His first thought was that you might’ve been sick or burned out, not that you were ghosting him.”

“Burned out is definitely the right answer.” 

Heeseung smiles at his phone. “Hoon was worried that he was coming off too strong by texting you so much. I told him you’d probably appreciate hearing from him more than giving you space.”

“Since when do you call him ‘Hoon’?”

“We’re close like that.” 

“That makes me nervous.” 

“I’ll be sure to divulge your crush on him while we hang out tonight.” You throw the cap of a pen at his chest. “He said he missed you, though.” 

“I miss him.” You groan a little too loudly for your liking. “I haven’t had any energy these last couple of weeks and I’ve been overthinking the hell out of kissing his cheek when I last saw him.”

“Sorry, you did what?!” 

“I kissed his cheek when he left my apartment and I can’t tell if I regret it or not.” 

“Dude, Sunghoon is clearly not weirded out by that,” Heeseung says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t be checking in with me about your mental state if he thought it was weird.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. You don’t have to do anything crazy with him either. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who’d appreciate doing anything as long as it’s with people he enjoys being around. He’d probably enjoy it if you two stayed in and watched movies.” 

“I can do that.” You pull your phone out and search for his contact. “I could do a movie and takeout.” 

“See? There's nothing to be worried about. You’re just stressed out about going home. Take it one day at a time.”

Sunghoon agrees to have a quiet night in when the weekend approaches and you find yourself sitting in his living room instead of your own. He tells you to come over in your pajamas with your worries left at his doorstep and asks you to let him take care of everything, including ordering takeout and paying for it. He tells you he’s up for watching a Christmas movie, but you’ve had your fill and the two of you decide to watch reruns of Community on Netflix as a way to relax through laughter and comedy. 

“I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch. He’s encouraged you to put your feet up and sit however you’d like, and crossing your legs feels like a respectable position. He sits at a short distance from you, far enough that you aren’t touching but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. 

“It’s that time of year. Everybody wants answers but nobody is willing to put in the work. It gets like this every December because everybody’s trying to finish strong before winter break.” 

“Still though, the guys made it seem like this was an everyday occurrence for you and seeing you so tired made me worried.” Your heart skips a beat. 

“Ah, well…my friends know I can push through anything. Jay’s the one who understands me the most when I get like this. I’ve been getting better at asking for help and they know I’ll come to them if I need to.”

“What about when you don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Ask for help?”

You turn to look at him. “I guess they force me to open up until I get annoyed and tell them to leave me alone. But that usually doesn’t last very long and I cave in since they never seem to listen to me anyway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Sunghoon takes a small handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table and shoves it in his mouth. “You have good friends and I can tell they love you.”

“I owe them a lot, if I’m being honest. Sometimes it feels like I don’t do enough for them.” 

“You must be a good friend if they care about you that much, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sunghoon seems to see you in ways you can barely see yourself and his constant reminders always leave you speechless. 

“How’ve you been? How’s your photography class and work?”

“My classes wrapped up last week. It was bittersweet. I love my instructor and I’m sad that he and I are parting ways, but he’s taught me a lot that I’ll definitely remember when I pick up a camera. Work is fine as well, it’s getting a little busy because of the holidays but it’s nothing I can’t manage. They know about the situation with my parents so we’re trying to take it as it comes.” 

“Have you resolved that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Not yet…It feels like they don’t get it at all.” 

“I’m really sorry, Hoonie.” 

“It is what it is. I’ll miss Seoul a lot for more reasons than one.” He looks at you and your heart skips another beat. 

“Living here won’t be the same without running into you, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I’ll cherish those moments forever,” he teases. “I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to try to convince them to hold off on retiring for a few years. I talked to our landlord and managed to negotiate one more month when I told him about what’s happening. I have enough to pay for that and I’m a little shocked that he agreed.” 

“Must be a Christmas miracle.” He looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Maybe. Have you decided if you’re going back home or not?”

You pick at your fingers. “I’m still on the fence about it. She called me yesterday and slipped that question in halfway through the conversation. I can tell she’s empathetic about it, though. She knows how hard it is for me to be back home with everything that happened with my dad. Part of me wants to go because I miss her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Train tickets are probably too expensive anyway.”

“I’ll drive you.” 

You turn to face him. “Sunghoon, it’s a two hour drive.”

“And?”

“I’m not making you drive two hours to my house and two hours back to Seoul.” He looks at you like this is the easiest decision he’s ever had to make. 

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to. This has been weighing on your mind for a long time and I don’t want you to miss out on spending the holidays with your mom just because of how much a ticket would cost to get you there.”

“Sunghoon–”

“It’s no sweat off of my back. I’m serious about it. I don’t have classes anymore and my work schedule is flexible. Plus, I think it could be cute to see where you grew up.” 

“That’s…Really sweet of you.” Sunghoon turns to look at you too and smiles with those plush lips you think about kissing a little too much. You try to reel it in because he’s your friend and that’s what friends do, right? 

“You’ve done a lot for me. The least I could do is drive you home.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon sees you from the corner of his eye as you turn back to face the TV, and he watches you try to hide a smile. He turns away and feels his own cheeks flush at the thought of seeing you in your hometown, even if it’s for a short while. Above all, Sunghoon wants this Christmas to feel like it’s the best one you’ve ever had on the account that you’ve made Seoul feel like home for him. 

The night progresses and you switch to a movie halfway through the night until you yawn. Sunghoon grabs a blanket and puts it over the both of you instead of suggesting you go back to your apartment. Somehow, this gesture feels kinder than anything anybody has ever done for you. 

You’re both acutely aware of how close your bodies are because of the blanket but neither of you care all that much. Your shoulder keeps bumping into his every time you move and eat the popcorn he’s provided, and Sunghoon silently wishes that he could pull your body against his once and for all. He doesn’t, choosing to savor the way your side touches him instead of doing anything that might make you uncomfortable. But somewhere in your tired stupor, you put your head on his shoulder and yawn. 

“Thank you everything,” you say quietly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d drive me home.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Sunghoon says it a bit too quickly but he doesn’t regret telling you that. 

“I wish I could repay you.”

“Being here is enough. Can I try something?” 

When you nod, Sunghoon maneuvers himself so that his back rests against the arm of the couch with his body spread across the cushions without disrupting you too much. You don’t fight against him when he scoops you into his arms and places your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in this position. It’s slow and melodic, unlike your fantasies of hoping the cute guy next door would have a rapid heart rate every time he saw you. But you think you like this better; Sunghoon seems to be comfortable around you. 

For the fear of touching you too much, Sunghoon keeps his hands by his side and pulls them away when he realizes he’s touching your exposed skin. You let go of every thought telling you to run away and grab his arms to wrap them around your own body, nuzzling your way close to his with your eyes closed in contentment. 

In lieu of saying goodnight, you kiss his chest and Sunghoon thinks he might be on cloud nine.

***

In the time between telling your mother you’d be home for a couple of days over the weekend to arriving at her doorstep, your friends have expressed their happiness in your decision. Jake couldn’t help but feel emotional when you told him and you get the feeling that Jay always knew the decision you’d make. Heeseung chose to forego teasing you out of solidarity for this vulnerable moment and wishes you all the best. However, all three of them did not hold back in telling you every joke in the book when you told them Sunghoon was dropping you off and picking you up. 

Sunghoon drives seamlessly and you silently thank him for it because approaching the familiar quietness of your neighborhood makes you feel somewhat uneasy. Your stomach turns in flips when you see that same house you used to look up at whenever you’d come home from school. It’s still jarring to see that only your mom’s car is parked on the street with your father’s car nowhere to be seen. It’s a physical reminder that he isn’t here and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not. She greets you the moment Sunghoon parks his car and the feeling of melting into her arms is indescribable. 

“I missed you,” she whispers into your hair. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, Eomma. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’re here now and that’s all I care about. You’re Sunghoon, right?” He turns to look at you as he pulls your duffle bag out of his car and bows at a full ninety degrees for just a second too long. She finds it amusing and tells him so when he stands up. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Y/N has great things to say about you.”

“Oh, trust me. She has good things to say about you too.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands and grab the bag from Sunghoon, turning your body away from him. “I think we’ve had a long car ride and can find literally anything else to talk about.” 

“I should get going before traffic gets bad. It was nice to meet you.”

“Come in for some tea!” 

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond but he doesn’t seem to mind. Sunghoon takes off his shoes and leaves them in the corner as your mom presents the two of you with a freshly brewed pot that reminds you of your childhood. The interior looks the same as it has since you last visited and that big family portrait still hangs above the couch in the living room. Your father smiles back at you like he’s happy you’re here. 

Sunghoon chooses to remain quiet as he drinks his tea to give you and your mom some time to catch up. He feels a bit awkward in a stranger’s home when this trip was supposed to be about you and your family, but he can’t say he isn’t pleased when the warmth of the tea starts to settle in his chest. Photos of you from your childhood line the walls and he can’t help but comment about how adorable you look in pink bows and frilly dresses. You look as cute then as you do now, but that’s something he will never tell you. 

Your mom brings out a small booklet of photos from your past, too. You try to prevent her from showing Sunghoon but he laughs it off and sits with pictures of you from elementary school in his hands. He tries not to let it show that his hands are shaking because you let your chin rest on his shoulder as you peer over him. He can feel your warm breath on his neck and it sends him into a short spiral until you’re scooping up the book and handing it back to your mom with a bashful smile on your face. 

He can see that you’re trying your best not to feel like that same, awkward mess of a teenage girl when your mother tells him stories about you from childhood. She tells him about the first time you performed in a dance recital and how you were center stage only to accidentally trip on your shoelaces that nearly sent you flying into the audience. She tells him about your first overseas vacation to Disney World in Florida because it was the first time you learned you hated humidity and people who didn’t know how to drive. 

With every hour that passes by, Sunghoon starts to think he understands you better. He knows you to be somebody who’s independent and confident, but the idea that you had to work hard towards it was lost on him until he came to visit your hometown. He understands why you felt so trapped here between your mother’s rants about how difficult your dad was to the limited opportunities for you to thrive. She tells him a bit about how you were emotionally unavailable in your teenage years despite your protests (as mothers tend to do), but she finishes her thought by telling Sunghoon how she’s always thought you were destined for things greater than what a small fishing town could ever offer you. He pretends like he’s got allergies when he feels his eyes watering up. 

Sunghoon asks to stretch his legs and by the time the night approaches, he’s agreed to stay over and spend more time visiting your favorite places and where you grew up. Your mom tells him not to feel like he’s intruding, as she rarely gets to spend time with anybody in your life, and he decides that this little vacation might be good for him. He offers to pay for dinner and he thinks he’s gained some approval for that. 

Time passes by too quickly for his liking. You’ve taken him everywhere you can think of–your old ice skating rink, your favorite boba shop, the schools you’ve attended–but it still feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of getting to know you before adulthood. He loves that you’re so open about yourself in a way that he’s never been able to. You talk his ear off about drama that you haven’t thought about in decades and he listens and feels several different emotions on your behalf despite not knowing anybody you’re talking about. He parks his car in the parking lot of your high school and the two of you spend an hour eating takeout from your favorite sandwich shop and gossipping about the entire town just for the two of you to hear. 

You talk about your dad on occasion and he doesn’t pry you to talk about it either. Sunghoon hears the melancholy in your voice when you think about old memories and missing him in ways you’ve never been able to experience before. You tell him that it’s been four years since you lost yourself. You also tell him that you don’t want to live the kind of life where you’re held back by his opinion anymore. He’s here in the walls and all over town, and the weight of missing him doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like a step towards freedom to be who you are, free from the anchors that kept you sheltered. Sunghoon knows your mother must be proud of you for making this decision because he sees it in her smile when she watches you laugh.

He decides he wants this kind of life; Sunghoon wants to be supported by his family when it comes to what he wants to do with his life. He wishes his parents believed in him as much as your mother believes in you. Seeing her so open and welcoming to a complete stranger and bragging about your accomplishments to him makes Sunghoon yearn for that kind of unconditional love too. Even in the moments when you get quiet over unpleasant memories that seem to resurface from coming back home, it seems that she helps you through it and doesn’t shame you for feeling the way that you do. It’s something Sunghoon desperately wishes he could do instead of entertaining conversations about taking over his family’s business. 

If there’s one thing you’ve taught Sunghoon, it’s that he can fall as many times as he wants so long as he chooses to get back up again. He’s come to love how open you are when it comes to people and experiences because he’s starting to understand just how difficult your childhood was until you found your footing in Seoul. Being alone meant exploring who you were without the opinions of people who wanted to hold you back. Even if people gave you reasons to shun the world and expect apologies from everybody under the sun, you hold your chin up with dignity and choose to move on instead of dwelling on people and things that don't matter. He wishes he could be like that too.

“Are you happy?” 

Sunghoon stares at your ceiling in your childhood bed when he asks you that. He’s a bit surprised that he’s allowed to be here at all and offered to take the couch, but your mother said the two of you are adults and don’t need her permission. The two of you were blushing messes when she left you alone to unpack your clothes while she gave him an extra toothbrush and old clothes from her brother who left them at her place. Both of you decided that it would be too awkward to try to not cuddle on your surprisingly comfortable twin bed and he chooses to use this as an excuse to touch you. He hasn’t heard a complaint from you and the feeling of your body wrapped up in his is exhilarating.

“I am, yeah. This weekend was a lot better than I thought it would be.”

“But are you happy with your life? Are you happy with yourself?” You push yourself off his body and look down at him.

“Where’s this coming from?” 

“I kept thinking about my life and my parents for the past couple of days. Your mom’s sweet and I can tell she believes in you whenever she tells me about your life here. It sounds like she did her best to raise you between work and your dad, and I can never imagine how stressful your childhood must've been with him in the house. I see how much you’ve grown from everything. It’s inspiring.”

“I don’t know if inspiring is the right word. I think I was dealt with shitty cards and expected an apology from the world without realizing that I had to work on myself in order to receive it.”

“That’s the thing, though. I can see that you’ve put in the work to become a better person. My parents aren’t as supportive as your mom and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Do I want to go through with a life that’s already planned for me when I know I’ll be unhappy?’”

Sunghoon looks up at you when he feels you brush his hair from his eyes. He can’t really tell what you’re thinking about as you look all over his face but the gentle touch of your fingertips puts him at ease as his mind begin to race. 

“I am happy. There are moments where I feel like the world is crumbling around me, but I know tomorrow is around the corner. I used to think that there wouldn’t be people out there who would ever believe all of the things I went through, but meeting the guys and making a life for myself makes me think otherwise. I’m happier because of it.” 

“That makes me feel hopeful.”

“Does it?” 

He nods and closes his eyes when your fingertip draws an invisible pathway across his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. You get dangerously close to his lips but your hand merely cups his jaw and your simple, gentle touch is enough for Sunghoon to realize he’s fallen far too hard to give up on his future, especially if you’re in it. 

“Yes,” he says in a whisper. “You make me feel like I could do anything if I try hard enough.” 

Sunghoon stares at you like you’ve hung up every star in the galaxy for him to see. When he looks at you, everything he’s been too afraid to say comes bubbling to the surface and his life beyond today becomes as clear as day. He wants to wake up next to you every morning and listen to your childhood stories until you run out of breath. He wants to spend every Christmas with you and fill your memory box with as many receipts with his signature on it. There is no future without you in it. 

You kiss him so tenderly that Sunghoon thinks he might be imagining things. Your palm is warm to the touch and he’s quick to react, pulling your body closer to his while his arms enclose your body against him. Sunghoon doesn’t know how many nights he’s spent imagining what your lips taste like or the way you sound with his mouth on yours, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. 

He maneuvers you onto his lap because of the limited space on your twin bed and his body feels like it’s set ablaze when the back of your thighs touch his lap. You’re wearing thin shorts and an oversized shirt while he’s wearing clean basketball shorts from his car and a shirt your mom let him borrow. He feels your breasts push against his muscular chest as you lean against him for support and tilt your head to capture his mouth like you’re trying to taste all of him at once, and Sunghoon thinks he likes it when you’re desperate for him too. 

The weight of your body on his lap inevitably makes him hard and the quiet gasp into his mouth makes Sunghoon buck himself up into you. You grip onto his shoulders and dig push him back down onto the mattress to keep yourself steady and he’s about to apologize for crossing a boundary until you grind yourself onto him too. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he complies, taking it off in one fell swoop. 

“You’re really hot, you know that?” 

“Would you believe me if I told you I work out for you?”

“Not even a little bit.” Sunghoon laughs as he pulls your shirt off of your body delicately, cupping your breasts in his hands as he gives them a soft squeeze. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.” 

He’s hard underneath you, so much so that you feel him through your thin sleeping shorts. His cock is situated between your folds and every small movement you make is enough to make him feel like he’s losing his mind. Sunghoon holds your breasts in his hands as you push yourself off of his lap just to sink your weight back down. He gives your nipples a squeeze periodically and he makes a mental note when you throw your head back and moan. 

“I’m so wet,” you whisper when you sit upright, your hips continuing to grind against him. The way your voice cracks makes him feel better about being desperate to feel you. “This feels so good, Hoonie. But we can’t. My mom’s down the hall.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

Seeing you nod is enough for him. Sunghoon’s thankful your mattress isn’t loud or bumping against the wall. He temporarily pulls you off of his body to kick off his shorts and feels a bit shy when you stare at how big and hard he is through his boxers. You push your lap back down onto his and he refrains from moaning too loud, silencing himself by pulling your lips down to his by your neck. His hands wander to your ass as you feel his toned chest and abdomen too. He pushes and pulls your body over his cock and moves his lips to kiss up your jawline. 

“I wish I could fuck you properly like you deserve,” he says, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. 

“I want that too.” 

“I’d worship every inch of you.” He uses his hands to press you against his lap until you bite back a moan. “I want to know what you feel like.”

“Fuck.”

“Cute.” 

He kisses your chin and wraps his arms around your lower back to keep you in place before thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Sunghoon catches you by surprise and you bite his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning too loud every time his clothed cock bumps against your clit. He’s so warm underneath you and this kind of touch is one that you’ve been craving longer than you’d like to admit. 

The passion is short lived and the two of you don’t care how quick it takes the two of you to come undone in the quiet of your bedroom. He kisses you and tries to swallow the sound of your lips smacking against one another, too afraid that one wrong move could make your mother distrust him. Sunghoon’s kisses make you dizzy but you cling onto him like he’s your lifeline until your high ebbs away, and the two of you clean up before getting a well deserved, good night’s rest. 

***

Sunghoon can barely keep his hands off of you when the two of you arrive back to your apartment. He tells you to come back to his place and have a cup of tea with him before you part ways and you agree. The entire car ride home made you feel like you might as well be living in one of your daydreams because he didn’t mind it when you pulled one of his hands from the steering wheel to hold it the entire drive back. He’d switch from holding your thigh to kissing the back of your hand every time you changed the music. The two of you sang your hearts out to pop songs from the 2000s and pretended to perform in front of an audience when dramatic ballads came on shuffle.

Things fall into place on the ride back. You decide to pursue a promotion when it opens in the new year and text your friends to tell them you’re safe and with Sunghoon. They make you promise to tell them all about this past weekend and try to get you to reveal your presents, but you refuse and include Sunghoon in all of the jokes they tell you in your group chat before they ask if he wants to be added into the main one. In every sense of the word, it felt like the two of you found a home in each other. 

He lets you change into fresh clothes and shower before you knock on his apartment. Sunghoon feels his heartbeat picking up when you show up in a tank top and shorts with no bra on, and he feels a bit like a teenage boy seeing a girl semi-naked for the first time. The two of you talk about your trip and the next festive thing you’ll do when he feels himself starting to get worked up. All Sunghoon can think about was keeping his promise to you when he made you orgasm through your panties. He wants you to know that he loves you, so he decides to tell you that when you stand up to put your mug in his sink.

“I love you. I’m telling you right now that I’d do anything you asked me to.” 

Sunghoon squeezes your hips with his fingers like he’s trying to convey what he says through his touch. His breath is warm as it fans against your lips and the heat of his apartment makes your cheeks and neck warm up from where you stand. He breathes heavily, as if his confession carries a great deal of weight to it. Every word he speaks drips with honesty and the loyalty behind it scares you. 

And yet, you can’t bring it in yourself to pull away when he kisses you. 

His soft, pillowy lips approach your own with caution. You feel him hover above you until he’s ghosting his mouth against yours as if you’re a magnet he can no longer resist. Sunghoon’s lips descend upon your own and he holds your body tightly against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. 

You both move like two slow dancers, swaying to the silent melody only audible by those who pay close enough attention. It’s at this moment you understand why poets and romantics speak of a hidden language only two lovers know. Sunghoon’s confession strengthens the feelings you’ve harbored for him and something about the way he touches you makes you feel like you can let go of your inhibitions. He’s brought your eagerness bubbling to the surface and you find that the harder you try to ignore your love for him, the louder your heart beats inside of your chest. 

You can’t help but think about how perfectly you slot against Sunghoon when you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips the more you push into him and kisses you like he’s trying to commit the way your lips feel to memory. All of your worries melt into the floor the moment Sunghoon pulls away to look at your face under the ambient lighting and his gentle touch brushes your hair out of your face. His delicate thumbs come to cup your jawline and rub the apples of your cheeks as if you were made of something breakable. Sunghoon looks at you like this with the kind of gaze that can only be described as fondness. He looks at you with an accumulation of his feelings and desires of being wanted for who he is, not who he’s supposed to be. 

When Sunghoon looks at you, what he sees before him is a strong girl who braves the toughest weather in a tiny row boat with nothing but her wits and a single paddle. It’s your intelligence and patience that steers you away from the turbulent waters. You’re a beacon that lights a dark tunnel and deep down, Sunghoon knows that you’re his guiding light that’ll lead him home. It was your charm and passion that drew him in, and it’s your resilience and willpower that makes him want to stay. 

“I am nothing without you.” Sunghoon kisses both of your cheeks and his warm lips feel like comforting reminders that he’ll always be with you. 

“Hoonie…”

“What is it?” 

“Kiss me.” 

He does, with a slow pass at your lips while his hands cradle your cheeks in his hands and the tenderness of his touch feels something akin to puzzle pieces falling into place. The feeling is intense and overwhelming the more you drink in Sunghoon’s words to you and in this very moment, you allow yourself to believe he means what he says. Your hands find perch on his wrists as you grip onto him to anchor yourself. Sunghoon keeps kissing you as he puts one hand behind your head while the other moves to your upper back. He’s got you, even when you fall onto the mattress behind you when he dips your body backwards. 

Sunghoon hovers above your body and cages you underneath him as his warm mouth pushes against you rougher than before. He squeezes your hip until both legs are wide open enough for him to slot his body between them. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against his body because he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Sunghoon’s heart beats loudly in his chest that he feels the vibrations in his ears the more he listens to the way you two kiss, paired with your hands pushing up his shirt. Your fingernails rake down his abdomen and it leaves him a panting mess while he sucks in his stomach at the intense feeling. Sunghoon pushes a quiet moan against your mouth and you drink it up like it’s water. 

“I want to see you.” 

You whisper your incantation against his lips and the desperation in your voice enchants him. Sunghoon moves his fingertips to the hem of his shirt and briefly disconnects your mouth to pull it over his body completely before coming back down to kiss you again. He feels your hands spread across his shoulders and arms, squeezing his biceps while you moan at their firmness. They touch his chest and down to his sculpted abdomen when he jolts and he emits that same, breathy moan from before. 

Sunghoon chases your lips when you push his chest away from you and it takes two tries until he’s pulling his body back. The way you look underneath him does not compare to when he dreams of you like this. You’re breathtaking and alluring with your hair fanned out and lips wet and swollen from his kiss. He loves the way you look at him like he’s your consolation prize for befriending him all that time ago, and Sunghoon thinks he loves the feeling of you looking at his body like you’re a step from objectifying him. It feels like you’re finally taking what you want without hesitating to, like you’re not ashamed of feeling so intensely about him. That guard you keep up, the one placed there in protection against those who have the intention of abandoning you, has vanished only for him.

“Touch me.” 

His baritone command rings in your head while your hand spreads across his abdomen. Your fingers feel every hard ridge and the way he constricts his stomach underneath your touch. Sunghoon holds your hand underneath his to pull it up to his neck and guides you down his body as if he wants you to memorize what he feels like too. Somewhere between his parted lips and intense eye contact is when you realize your sanity is nowhere to be found, and it seems like he can tell because he feels the way your legs squeeze him. 

“I want you to see me too.” 

His fingers lift the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

When you nod, his fingers begin to tremble the higher the fabric travels up your body. Your skin is warm and soft underneath his tongue and he’s afraid that he’ll forget what you look like if his eyes stray from you. He pushes your top until he sees your deep green bra that hides your chest from him and pushes your back into an arch for him to unhook the fabric without much of a fuss. 

He doesn’t know where to look first. The bra is thrown haphazardly beside him and you can’t bring yourself to care about where it is on his bedroom floor. Instead, his hands cup your breasts and his fingers give a light squeeze as if to experiment with them. Sunghoon’s eyes gloss over your body and his mouth parts in astonishment the more he soaks your image in. He brings the pads of his thumbs to rub your nipples that have grown hard and sensitive since he pushed you onto the bed. 

Slowly, he descends. His warm mouth wraps around your left nipple with a tantalizing slowness that makes you feel like time is frozen around the two of you. Your heart drums in your chest at his merciful tongue that experimentally licks your nub. Sunghoon’s eyes dart up to look at you and drink in every reaction from his movements, and when he feels your chest arch into him upon sucking his mouth around your nipple, he brings his hand to the other and pinches it until you yelp. 

He flattens his tongue to lick you up before moving his head to switch to your other nipple, pressing a wet kiss to the valley between your breasts before attaching himself back onto you. The spot where his lips touched you blooms underneath your skin and sends a soft buzz all over your body. It’s hard to focus on his mouth when you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. 

“So soft.” Sunghoon mutters in the quiet silence apart from your quiet pants and his mouth working your nipple. He grips your breasts and pushes them together as if to admire your naked chest with you watching him. 

“Hoonie—”

“I need to taste you.” He licks between both nipples and speaks as if he’s read your mind just by looking at you. “Can I? Please?” 

To be yearned like this feels like it could’ve been a blessing from above. Sunghoon looks at you with determination when you nod and you watch him sink further down your body with his hands following in his wake. In the quiet of his room, the bedsheets rustle underneath you when he beckons you to sit back against the pillows at the top of his bed. His warm and heavy breaths touch your thighs when he hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down along with your panties. He hums when he pulls them off of you completely and looks directly between your legs, bringing both of his palms to feel your smooth legs until they come to grip your inner thighs. 

His electric touch is a spark you cannot seem to run away from. You feel completely frozen underneath his stare but you can’t bring yourself to shy away from his touch or sink deeper within yourself. Something about the man before you brings out the desires and needs you keep locked away, tucked inside the smallest cupboard in the back of your mind with the key long gone. But somehow, Sunghoon has paved his own way and brought you to your knees with a single kiss.

Sunghoon kisses your inner thighs, his pillowy lips leaving traces of cool spit onto your hot skin. His slow, soft pace is the kind of patience you wish for yourself. You love how kind and gentle he is when he’s with you and he never pushes you farther than your own capacity. He lets you set the tone and lead him wherever you choose to go, and his delicate touches with your body completely bare before him makes you think love and sex can be just as powerful as everyone says it is. When Sunghoon’s mouth comes to pass your core, he kisses the middle of your slit and savors the way your lap moves against him. 

“You feel so good.” He mutters against your other thigh like he’s saying a prayer. “So pliant for me.” Sunghoon nips at the juncture and smiles to himself when you gasp before returning to your mound, his left hand caressing your thigh while his other brings his thumb to knick at your hardened, aroused nub. 

“Sunghoon, I can’t…”

“Can’t what, baby?” 

“I can’t wait anymore.” When Sunghoon looks up at you, he sees the lust by the way your mouth parts just slightly ajar and how your chest rises and falls in anticipation. Who is he to deny you of your pleasure? 

Without another word, Sunghoon closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe up your folds. Your moans are like music to his ears and he swears he could bottle it up and keep it shelved for days. The way you taste covers the surface of his wet muscle and he hums right into your core the more his mouth explores your aroused hole, poking the tip inside of you with every other swipe of his tongue just to tease you. 

“Ah, ahh!” Sunghoon loves hearing the way you whine underneath him and moans in appreciation when you roll your hips against his face because of him. It motivates him to move his head against you too, angling his face to lick every every single part of you. 

Your hands find themselves gripping your naked breasts in an attempt to ground yourself as your chest becomes one with the ceiling the more you arch your back. Sunghoon’s hands come to hold your waist and keep your legs spread before him before you can even think about falling back onto the bed. His touch is magnetic and you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to be touched by anyone before him. 

He lets your body fall and decides to give your legs a break since they’ve been spread out for him for so long. Your hips thank him when he lifts them both into the air and temporarily separates himself from your core to look at you like this. Sunghoon rises to kneel before you and his saliva leaves a string of spit when he detaches from your swollen folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty.” Sunghoon stares intently at your glistening core and he’s mesmerized by the way you clench at his praise. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs your sensitive nub and smears your wetness around your folds, his other hand holding your legs up for you. “I can’t believe you deprived me of it for so long. 

“I wanna cum,” you moan selfishly when he sticks two of his fingers inside. Your smooth walls engulf his digits and your arousal splashes around the more he pumps them in and out of you. 

“My baby wants to cum?” he asks rhetorically, thrusting his fingers rapidly while your hands come to steady your legs in the air the way he’s been holding you. “You deserve to cum, baby. Let me make you feel good. Shit, yeah, squeeze my fingers just like that.”

“I-I can’t hold it!” 

“Cum right now or I’ll stop fucking you.”

As if a dam’s protective guard had shattered into a million pieces, Sunghoon’s command tips you over the edge and you release around his fingers. Your mind feels dizzy with the nonstop pleasure he’s been giving you and the way his fingers reach the deepest parts within you the more he angles himself on top of your body. His soft praises of a job well done sink into your chest the more he speaks. The sight of his toned biceps moving with every pass of your pussy makes you clench and push your orgasm out around his fingers. Sunghoon smiles wickedly at your mound the more you cream around his fingers and only stops pumping himself when your pussy squeezes him out. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps them around his digits. 

“Mm,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders drop. You peek at his lap and see his fully hardened cock tenting in his pants. The impressive size stares back at you like it’s daring you to take a peek. Sunghoon licks his fingers clean and catches you staring at his dick when he opens his eyes, but your lustful gaze only fuels his arousal. He leaks in his boxers and feels the precum soak the fabric. 

“You taste so fucking good.”

“Really?” Sunghoon grips your legs gently and settles them back down onto the mattress, soothing your sore thighs with his palms as he lightly massages your skin. He bends down to lick you one more time.

“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. I could die between your legs.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

He watches your hole when he pulls his pants and boxers down below his balls until his cock springs out and bounces in your presence. He’s big and girthy, just like you’d imagined the first time you saw the outline of his dick in his pants one morning. Sunghoon wraps his palm around his length and gives himself an experimental squeeze, hissing at the warm contact before tilting his head to spit on the head before stroking himself. The wet sound makes your core jolt in excitement. He watches you looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth with an expression so determined that it makes him laugh from above you. 

“Eager for me?” You look up but you don’t answer him. “I’m always so fucking hard for you but I didn’t want to scare you away. You wore this long black dress that made your body look like sin a while back. I think about what your ass looked like in that dress from time to time.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I haven’t worn that dress in so long…that was before we met.”

“Yeah,” he confesses, twisting his wrist against himself before pinching the tip. “Thought you were cute back then.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He stops stroking himself and kicks off the rest of his clothing before settling back between your stomach and cups your jawline with his hand. The way he looks at you is pure and nearly cliché, like the two of you might as well be the lead roles in a romance film. His warm, brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t say you don’t love it when he looks at you like this. 

“I didn’t want to get too attached to anything or anyone because I knew I had to go back home. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t do anything unless something gave me a reason to talk to you, and then we ran into each other with Jake’s ugly sweater.” 

You cheeks head up. “I forgot about that.” 

He kisses your lips once. “You looked so cute in it.”

“I look atrocious, Hoonie. It’s okay, it’s called an ugly sweater for a reason.”

“You could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable.” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate your faith in me.” Sunghoon kisses the tip of your nose. When he moves, you feel his bare cock resting against your folds and push your hips to meet him. His cock slots between them and Sunghoon hums when you grind against him, holding one of your hips steady. 

“Make me wet, baby.” Sunghoon kisses your jawline and his wet lips leave a cool trail on your skin the more you grind against him. “Make my cock wet enough to fuck you.” 

“Shit, shit…”

“Feels good, yeah?”

“So good,” you whisper. He kisses just beneath your earlobe and puckers his lips until he sucks the skin underneath. The tip of his cock catches your clit with every other pass and Sunghoon drinks up your moans like it’s water. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me stick it in, right? You want my cock just as badly as I want your pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking good at this.” He chuckles and his warm breath against your ear makes you shiver.

“Good at what, babe?”

“Talking. Touching me, fuck…everything.”

He drags his nose across your neck to the other side. “You deserve to feel good. You’ve been running around all over Seoul with no one to take care of you but me.” 

“Can’t believe I want you this much.” Without disrupting the position, Sunghoon reaches between your bodies and angles his cock until it breaches your hole with just his tip. It pulls a gasp out of you and Sunghoon lifts his head to watch your face morph in pleasure with your mouth open slightly ajar and eyes almost squinting in disbelief. 

“You don't even know the half of it. I want all of you all the time.” He pushes another inch inside of you. “I want to mold your pussy to the shape of my cock to the point that nobody else can fuck you as good as I can.” 

You grip onto his biceps. “F-Fuck.”

“I want to be the only person you look for. I don’t care how long it takes me to come back, but I’m not leaving you behind. I want you. Only you.” 

The feeling you get when you’re with him makes your chest feel tight with love and admiration the more Sunghoon looks at you like you’re the object of his affection, as if you’re something he cannot live without. You didn’t know that love could feel like an accumulation of every happy memory replaying in your head simultaneously. This newfound overwhelming sensation makes you feel like there isn’t anything you can’t face, as long as you face them with Sunghoon. 

He, on the other hand, finally understands why people talk about finding a home within another person. He’d never given second thought to romance when he knew that his life was planned out for him since he was born and never once thought that he’d get to make decisions on his own about his feelings when his entire livelihood is surrounded by order and duty. But here you are, lying so beautiful underneath him like a mosaic built from colorful stained glass with the sun peeking through it. You look like a dream with your face so pretty the more he pushes into you until he’s buried himself to his full capacity. 

Neither of you have ever had sex like this, so pure and raw with your bodies in tune with one another. It feels like the two of you exist beyond space and time with the way your breathing intensifies the more Sunghoon pulls out from you just to push right back inside. The intensity that permeates around his bedroom makes your breath run short and it fuels Sunghoon to keep a slow and steady rhythm, allowing his cock to reach the deepest parts within you without pushing you too fast. The whole affair is erotic and what can only be described as lovemaking. Sunghoon watches your eyes squeeze shut below him and brings a hand to push the stray hair away from your face. He thinks the two of you must’ve been fated in every universe for him to find, because there is not a single person he could ever imagine loving more than you. 

“I’ll fuck you every single day if you let me,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. He pulls his body up and places both palms on either side of your body before rolling his hips back. The new angle pushes him in a way that makes you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, Sunghoon.” 

“My baby’s so fucking pretty when she’s filled with my cock. Do you love this as much as I do?” 

“Yes!”

“Do you love me as much as I love you?”

You don’t hesitate to answer him. 

“I love you. I want you here forever.” 

“I can give you forever. I swear on it.” 

He pistons his hips until the audible sound of his pelvis smacking against yours becomes the loudest sound in the room. His balls slap against your ass when you wrap your legs around his waist until he drops to his elbows to catch you and squeeze your body when you clench around him. He tucks himself into your neck and his forehead feels warm and sweaty to the touch, but you can’t say that you don’t love how much he’s putting his body–and yours–through the ringer just to make you cum as many times as he possibly can. 

None of this feels real. Sunghoon might as well be a figment of your imagination because it seemed impossible for sex to feel as good as he’s making you feel. All of your concerns about the future don’t exist when he’s bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. He, too, pushes all of his unwanted thoughts away in favor of helping you chase your release. Sunghoon’s determined to show you just how much he loves you by any means possible, and if his words of conviction won’t do him justice, he hopes his body will. 

It’s uncanny the way you feel completely safe around Sunghoon, when no one else has ever made you close to feeling the way you do with you. You’re able to break right before his very eyes and pick yourself off of the floor without feeling ashamed to have insecure and unwanted feelings about love and your attitude surrounding happenstances. You live your life based on the principle that everything happens for a reason and that people come and go but lessons will always stick with you. The people who live as ghosts in your past serve as reminders of painful memories and people who were never supposed to be here for very long, and you pray to the Heavens that Sunghoon is somebody meant to be in your life until forever comes to an end. 

Sunghoon holds himself off until he feels you unravel around him by the way you cling onto his body and clench around his cock. He brings his lips to yours and roughly pushes against your swollen ones when he feels you coming undone and allows himself to follow your lead. His cum fills you with thick, white ropes and oozes out from around him when your pussy can’t hold it in anymore. Sunghoon slows his pace down the more you try to catch your breath in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you too much. The squelches keep him semi-hard and your lips taste exactly like his favorite memory. 

“My good girl,” he whispers. “So sexy when you cum.” 

“You’re one to talk. You look like fucking Adonis right now.” 

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your forehead. “You flatter me too much.” 

“Nuh uh. I’m telling you the truth. It’s a little unfair how you always look so good, even when you aren’t trying.” 

“You’re one to talk.” He kisses your lips. “You always look so…cute.”

“Just cute?” 

“Pretty, too.” 

“Only pretty?” Sungoon smacks your outer thigh. 

“You are very beautiful and I’m enamored with you.” 

That makes you blush. “Hoon.” 

“What? Can’t a guy proclaim his love anymore?” 

Sunghoon’s body is warm against yours and he looks down at you with a fond smile in a way you always hoped somebody would. His dark eyes feel warm from above you and something about the way he’s watching you doesn’t make you feel observed. Rather, you feel a blooming warmth within your chest and nuzzle into his touch when he brings his hand to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek. Sunghoon is gentle with his touch and you find it unbelievable that he’s managed to squeeze his way into your comfort zone as successfully as he had. You love his touch. You crave it, even.

His smile widens when you kiss the underside of his hand with a sweet peck and tilts his head in amusement. You feel bashful when Sunghoon looks at you like this because it feels reminiscent of having a crush in your childhood years, but with him, you can’t find that you dislike the way that you feel. His palm is warm and comforting, especially after spending so much time putting your body through physical rigor in ways you’ve never experienced. His strength never ceases to impress you and the nights you’ve spent picturing yourself underneath him suddenly have merit to them now. 

You find yourself breaking your own character when you lift your head up to push Sunghoon’s lips against yours and his response is immediate. Sunghoon’s plush lips melt right into yours and he slots himself against you like he was always supposed to be there, letting your head lie against the bed while his arm holds your waist. Everything about Sunghoon makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a quiet hug amidst a rainstorm, or if it’s supposed to feel like the crescendo in a brilliant symphonic masterpiece. Perhaps it’s a combination of both or none at all. These deep feelings you have for him have never been brought out by anyone before him. 

Sunghoon must know what you’re thinking because his hand travels up your body and back to your hair, gently scraping your scalp with his blunt fingertips. It feels so good to be loved and doted on like this without feeling like you don’t deserve to find an ounce of happiness with somebody who tells you they love you. Years of running away from the feeling of a comfortable embrace melts away with every second that passes with your lips on Sunghoon’s. He feels like every bit of home you’ve spent your whole life yearning for. 

“What are you thinking about?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you can’t find it in you to lie to him. 

“Is it selfish that I want you to stay?” 

“No, it’s not. I don’t want to leave Seoul either. I don’t want to leave you.”

“It feels like I just got you but now I have to let you go.”

He kisses you. “You don’t have to let me go. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince my parents to let me live the life that I want. Our trip to your hometown made me realize there’s more to life than people’s expectations of me.”  

You bottom lip quivers. “I’m scared that they won’t budge and that you’ll leave. I’m scared that you’re going to move on and leave me here thinking about you.” 

“I’d never.” He shakes his head like it’s a fact. “I could never forget you. I would never even think about moving on from you. I’m scared that somebody’s gonna snatch you up when I’m away.” 

“I’m really in love with you, unfortunately.” Sunghoon nips at your lip and cherishes the way you laugh. He looks away from you for a split second but the soothing touch of his hand feels comforting. He watches you frown for a minute. “I didn’t get you a present.”

“Baby, you’re my present.”

“That was really corny.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He kisses you once more. “You’re too important for me to give up. I don’t want to let you go.” 

Somehow, you know he’s telling the truth. 

“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”

“You have to ask.”

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You silence him with a kiss and when he feels you smiling against him, he has his answer. 

****

comments and reblogs are appreciated! :) x

[darkmatilda]

𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer never thought he’d be woken up in the middle of the night by a woman who didn’t even particularly like him, asking him to examine her breast. and yet, there he was.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, mention of the case they're working on, reader thinks she might be infected by something dangerous, reader is half-naked, chemical nonsense and a made-up disease, reader is described with slightly longer hair, but that's just for the sake of the plot lol—you can imagine her however you want.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3k

𝐚/𝐧: i know something else won the poll but i just couldnt stop myself from writing this. the next part will be one of your requests :3 (shoutout to @angellic4l for listening me ramble about this—btw i used some of her quotes here because shes my personal comedian)

"My weekend? Nothing special," Morgan began, leaning back against the hood of the car. His dark sunglasses had slid slightly down his nose, shielding him from the harsh sunlight beating down on the shopping mall parking lot where they stood. Or rather, where they waited.

"I promised Pen I’d drop by for the evening, but it kinda stretched out. Especially after she talked me into some wine..."

Spencer zoned out somewhere in the middle of that sentence, not even realizing when the words started slipping past his ears instead of through them. And he liked to think he was good at multitasking.

His gaze had been fixed for a while now on the police-secured entrance to the mall, where a woman in a protective suit was stepping outside, slowly peeling it off. The forensic team beside her started discussing something with her, but she barely acknowledged them, sliding the suit down to her ankles and stepping out—one foot, then the other. Underneath, she was wearing her usual formal attire.

Her lips moved as she replied, her face betraying nothing but focus. One hand reached up to push back strands of messy hair…

"…And then on Saturday, we got word from Hotch that he won a belly dance competition at the White House. So, obviously, we baked him cupcakes."

Morgan trailed off, waiting for a response. One of his eyebrows arched in that weird, expectant way.

Spencer realized, too late, that he hadn't been listening at all. Clearing his throat, he grabbed onto the last words still hanging in the air between them.

"Interesting. What kind of cupcakes?" he asked.

Morgan just shook his head, part disbelief, part something else Spencer couldn't quite read.

Reid frowned. 

"What? Something wrong?"

"Morgan. Reid."

Both of them turned their heads toward Hotch, who stood behind them with his usual seriousness—except today, it seemed even more intense. Not surprising, given the kind of case they were working on.

He must have been there for a while. For reasons unknown to Spencer, Derek’s eyes suddenly widened at the sight of their boss, like he was seeing him for the first time in his life.

Reid was starting to feel more and more disoriented.

"Want you to talk to the chemists and get their opinion. Especially in the context of previous incidents," he instructed them, one of his eyes drifting sideways toward his teammate’s face. The other man simply nodded, avoiding eye contact, his lips pursed slightly forward.

A phone rang. Hotch reached into his pocket.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping away. For a moment, however, he froze, something very odd flickering across his face. “Morgan. Just so you know, I'm currently cutting down on processed sugar, so cupcakes aren't the best idea. Just for future reference."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut for a second before nodding, muttering under his breath, I’ll keep that in mind. 

When their boss walked away, he fixed his gaze on Reid and shook his head.

"I hate you. I just want you to know that."

Spencer let his arms fall helplessly to his sides.

"I— I still have no idea what you're talking about. Did you tell Hotch about you and Garcia baking cupcakes? Did you offer him some? You know, you could have guessed he wouldn’t eat that kind of stuff while training for a marathon—"

"If you value your life, you better shut up already, okay?” 

"But—"

"You."

Their conversation was interrupted by the voice of a woman approaching them—the chemist Spencer had just watched removing her protective suit. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her stride as quick as ever, and her expression held nothing remotely positive.

Derek gave her a nod. "Why the gloomy face at the sight of two such handsome profilers?"

She scoffed with the purest form of mockery. All of it.

"Ouch…" Morgan hissed in fake pain, pressing a hand to his chest as if he'd actually been wounded.

Her gaze held a certain resignation. Spencer noted that her face had an odd look, as if some of its color had drained away.

"This gloomy face is the result of looking at a body so drenched in blood that I didn’t even realize the human body could hold that much," she replied dryly, sweeping her eyes from one of them to the other as if scolding them. Then, suddenly, her stare lingered on Morgan, and her expression hardened even further. "So forgive me if, after a sight like that, I’m not exactly radiating joy or giggling at the sight of you two handsome or not. Can we finally get to the point?"

Reid couldn’t suppress a small, petty spark of satisfaction at the look on his friend’s face. Probably the first time ever that he’d taken her side, and, to his surprise, her sharp remarks actually amused him. Turns out, when they weren’t aimed at him, he could appreciate how spot-on they were.

For a fraction of a second, the corners of his mouth even twitched upward—until he reminded himself that she was right, and they really should be getting back to the case.

"Actually, we were just about to talk to you," he said.

"Mm-hmm. Sure you were. Just standing here like two useless lampposts."

He changed his mind. He didn’t like her remarks after all.

To quickly sum up the case they were working on—they had been sent to another state where, over the past few weeks, four strange incidents had occurred. So far, they hadn't identified any connections between the victims, but each had suffered a mysterious attack.

More specifically, they had all experienced sudden, severe hemorrhaging from various orifices—gruesome and unexpected. It was different from their usual cases; the unsub hadn’t directly taken their lives, but they suspected some kind of foreign, unknown substance had been introduced into their bodies. How, exactly, was still a mystery.

The most recent attack had just taken place in a shopping mall. Given the nature of the crime, they were accompanied by their trusted team of chemists.

"What we've determined so far is, well," the woman began, her tone carrying a hint of irritation, "we're dealing with the same thing as in the previous victims."

Reid couldn’t help himself—he let out a short, amused scoff at the obvious conclusion.

"That was never in question," he said, shaking his head. "Anything more? Have you figured out what was administered? When, how?"

Her expression held a double dose of irritation—at him, obviously, and at the fact that her team hadn’t managed to figure out anything more.

"So far, we suspect that the method of transmission wasn’t through contact with a contaminated surface or accidental ingestion," she explained. "In other words, the most likely scenario is that it was introduced directly into the victim’s body. Did you see the other corpses? Any injection marks?"

Spencer exchanged a glance with Morgan, trying to recall. His friend slowly shook his head.

"We’re not sure," he admitted. "But a lot of their bodies were covered in a rash, which might’ve distracted us from spotting any puncture wounds."

The atmosphere between them shifted, thickening with realization. They were all arriving at the same unsettling conclusion.

"So, what—you think some mad scientist is cooking up potions at home and injecting random people? Just picking them out of a crowd and—"

"I don’t think so," Reid interrupted, thoughtful. "I actually wondered if the rash could be an early symptom. Which would mean the substance was in their system for a while before the hemorrhaging started—a buildup of symptoms leading to the final collapse."

"A fatal buildup of symptoms," the woman added, the memory of what she’d seen clearly flashing through her mind.

Morgan turned to Reid, his gaze sharpening. "So you’re saying the victims weren’t random? That there’s a connection?"

"Well, that’s what we need to find out."

To his surprise, the woman let out a quiet hum of agreement.

"You’d better," she said, though not in a way that suggested she was wishing them luck. "Because I never want to see something like that again. I’ll let you know if we find anything else."

With that, she gave a slight nod and walked off, heading back to her team.

Spencer watched her absently, his mind still running through everything they’d learned, trying to piece it all together. He was determined to solve this before another person ended up in the same horrific state.

That’s when he realized Morgan was staring at him.

"What now?" Spencer asked.

Morgan just shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

*

He was on the verge of falling asleep when someone knocked on the door.

And he knew he wasn’t imagining it—it wasn’t a hesitant, uncertain tapping but a determined pounding. Loud enough to jolt him out of bed. Spencer sat up, a flicker of unease creeping in.

The case they were working on required them to stay in a motel for a few days. It was small, dimly lit, but otherwise, he had no complaints. He assumed it had to be someone from his team—maybe Morgan, wanting to share some new findings, some breakthrough. Or maybe another incident had occurred?

That thought made him jump to his feet. Within seconds, the door swung open.

But it wasn’t Morgan standing there. It wasn’t anyone from his team.

"I need you to examine my breast," the woman said without so much as a blink, before he could even open his mouth to ask what she was doing there. "And not just that. But I figured I’d start with something that might keep you particularly motivated."

Her words might have sounded lighthearted—if not for her expression. Absolute seriousness, a clenched jaw, and something else in her eyes. Something he had never seen there before.

It took him a moment to recognize it.

It looked a lot like…fear.

"You need—you want me to…what?"

He knew he must have looked, to put it mildly, like a complete idiot—staring at her with wide eyes. The theory that he was dreaming suddenly seemed a lot more convincing.

Except…why would he be dreaming about something like this?

"You heard me," she replied shortly before simply letting herself into his room. She slipped through the partially open door so closely that her hip brushed against him by accident.

Spencer remained frozen for a few more seconds before finally snapping out of his daze. He shut the door and turned to face her.

That was when he noticed—she was wearing nothing but a satin robe. Definitely not something provided by the motel, which meant she must have brought it from home. She stopped just where her back blocked the light source in his small room—the standing lamp casting a dim, yellow glow that settled gently along the edges of her figure.

He watched as she took a breath.

"I was just about to take a shower," she began. Spencer could tell she was trying to maintain a calm and measured tone, which resulted in her speaking very slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "When I noticed…I think I might have been infected with whatever those victims had. During the examination, maybe my suit was compromised—I don’t know. I just…you need to look at it and tell me."

As Spencer looked at her—the quiet desperation woven between her words—he was reminded of how she had acted earlier in the parking lot outside the shopping center. Almost masterfully concealed, but still faintly present, was the lingering shakiness from seeing a victim in such a state. Unlike him, this wasn’t something she encountered every day.

And now, that same fear was written all over her. The terror that the same thing might be happening to her.

He felt something twist in his stomach, but he quickly shook his head. He had to be the rational one here, not let panic take over.

"But…you were the one who said it likely wasn’t transmitted through physical contact. That it was introduced directly into the victim’s body by the unsub. So how would you have gotten infected?"

"That was just our assumption. A theory. For all we know, we could be completely wrong, and this thing is highly contagious, and I’m about to collapse onto this…disgusting carpet and start bleeding out from my eyes, ears, and mouth right in front of your bed!" she snapped through clenched teeth.

She took another deep breath, this one just as shaky.

"So, please, just check. Tell me if my suspicions are correct, because if they are, maybe we still have time to—"

"Okay, just—calm down," Spencer attempted, stepping toward her.

"Oh, do not tell me to calm down. I will calm down when you check."

He stared at her for a moment, neither of them moving.

"Please," she added, her voice quieter now, tight with strain. "Seriously, what’s the harm? You might not like me, but I doubt you’d wish me dead."

Spencer pressed his fingers briefly to the space between his brows, shaking his head slightly.

"I’ll do it," he finally confirmed. He had to swallow before speaking again. "Jesus. Of course, I’ll do it. You didn’t have to guilt-trip me so hard."

Her chest rose and fell in what looked like relief, and despite the circumstances, he thought he caught the faintest shadow of a smile at his words. He found himself holding his gaze there, just for a second—before forcing himself to look away, silently telling himself to focus.

"Maybe…maybe you should step closer to the light," he suggested.

He forced himself to take a step closer—to her and to the lamp. She followed his instruction slowly, turning her back to him. From the movement of her hands, it was easy to guess she was reaching for the tie of her robe.

"Most of it is on my back," she explained, sliding the fabric down to her waist, exposing the bare skin of her back.

The motel lighting was far from ideal, and Spencer had no choice but to step in even closer. In fact, he had to stand right behind her, lower his head to focus on the small marks on her skin, partially hidden by her hair. He hesitated before moving his hand. Slowly—making an effort to steady his breathing so she wouldn’t hear how close he was—he slid his fingers under her hair, carefully sweeping it to one side.

She didn’t tremble, but her shoulders lifted and fell in an uneven rhythm, signaling a shift in her breathing.

He knew it was tied to fear and uncertainty, and he didn’t want to leave her trapped in that state any longer than necessary. At the same time, he couldn’t say with certainty whether the small bumps on her skin were the same ones they had found on the previous victims.

Swallowing hard, he leaned in even closer before pulling back slightly to get a wider perspective, comparing the shape, color, and pattern of the marks in his mind. The woman glanced at him over her shoulder. Noticing that he had drawn back a little, she must have assumed he was finished, because she turned to face him. Completely. Still without pulling the robe back over herself.

"There’s a bit here too. It’s the same thing, really, but it’s better if you check everything," she said.

Spencer’s gaze lowered—slowly—from her face, from her lips forming the words, down along the length of her body.

He really hoped his face wasn’t betraying him, that it showed nothing beyond pure, clinical focus. Especially since she hadn’t taken her eyes off him for even a second, searching his expression for the answer she so desperately wanted.

But he still wasn’t sure.

Something flickered in his mind—a thought, a doubt.

The problem was that forcing himself to speak felt almost impossibly difficult.

"May I?" he asked hesitantly, raising his hand slightly but keeping it suspended in place, waiting for permission.

"Well, if it’s necessary, doctor," she murmured, a husky note in her voice.

Spencer took a breath, trying to clear his mind, and slowly placed his fingers against the marks at the center of her chest, where they seemed to intensify toward the right side. He moved carefully, lightly, feeling the texture against her skin, tracing them with deliberate slowness. The moment the answer registered in his mind, he stopped abruptly and pulled his hand back, letting it fall to his side.

The woman's eyes widened in anticipation of his response.

"It's not the same," he blurted out, his voice sinking into a wave of relief that caught him off guard.

She raised an eyebrow at the certainty in his tone.

"Are you lying just to get rid of me?"

"What? No, look…or rather…okay, you don’t have a point of reference, but trust me. The rash on the victims’ bodies was different from this. Sure, the placement and distribution are similar, but theirs had raised bumps, while yours are flatter, almost embedded in the skin. Do you get what I mean?" he explained hastily.

It didn’t help that she still hadn’t pulled her robe back on, as if waiting for him to change his mind.

"Also, the color is slightly different, which I can tell even with this terrible lighting. You’re not infected."

She kept glancing at him with a certain skepticism. Slowly, unfazed, she slid both arms fully into the sleeves of her robe, covering her back. But before tying it, she focused on pulling her hair out from under the fabric.

"Then what is it?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

He had expected her to be happier when he told her she wasn’t about to bleed out from some mysterious substance in her system. Spencer shrugged.

"A regular rash, an allergic reaction—I have no idea," he admitted honestly. "Maybe it’s the motel water, the towel, the sheets…anything you’ve come into contact with," he suggested, watching as her lips pursed slightly. That reaction made him think he had probably hit the mark.

And now that the tension between them had eased—no looming threat of her imminent death and, perhaps less critically but still relevant, she was no longer standing half-naked in front of him—he allowed himself a small, amused scoff.

"Maybe your luxury skin just doesn’t get along with cheap motel bedding."

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time in their entire acquaintance, she was the one at a loss for words. When she briefly dropped her gaze, he sensed…embarrassment?

Somehow, the thought that she might actually be flustered—because of him, no less—felt more abstract than the fact that she had just undressed in front of him.

"I should’ve known that," she muttered to herself. "It’s not transmitted through contact. My team already ruled that out."

So all of her embarrassment stemmed purely from the fact that she had second-guessed her own intelligence and judgment—not from the fact that she had barged into the motel room of someone who wasn’t even really a friend and asked him to examine her breast.

Spencer exhaled briefly, a flicker of disbelief passing through him as he processed that realization. But he didn’t comment. Because, honestly, had he expected anything different? This was her, after all.

Realizing it was all over, she turned on her heel and headed for the door with her usual brisk stride. One moment, she was in front of him; the next, she was already at the exit, pulling it open. He half-expected her to walk out without a word, slamming the door behind her in frustration at herself.

But at the last second, she turned her head toward him. First, she pressed her lips together—then a small smirk formed.

"Thanks, doc," she quipped. "That was a truly professional breast exam."

Spencer simply closed his eyes for a second, wondering if this was the moment he should officially add her to his list of the most unserious people he knew.

"You’re welcome. Seriously—tried my best."

yes, this was inspired by an x-files episode xoxo

[rbfclassy]

THE SESSION! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...you open up to your best friend about how difficult it is for you to have an orgasm, but he takes it as an opportunity to help and make the night only about you after your horrible past experiences

INFO...best friend!choso x fem!reader, reader finds it embarrassing to talk about not being able to cum, pussy eating, spit, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, handholding, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You and Choso sat on his couch, watching the movie that played on the tv screen, digging into the bowl of popcorn that sat comfortable between the two of you. It was a basically tradition for you guys to have a movie night together at least twice a month, gives you opportunity to catch up with each other and hang out without having your schedules clash. A scene in particular made you cringe, an unnecessary sex scene which most of these movies always have—adding nothing to the plot. With the roll of your eyes, you hear chuckle from Choso and quickly look over at him to see he was laughing you. “What?” Your furrow your brows in confusion.

He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he responds, immediately going back to watching the movie with his arms folded across his chest, head leaned back against the couch. With narrow eyes, you stare at him for a seconds before looking back at the screen, the sex scene still ongoing. The woman always looked like she was having the time of her life, eyes fluttering shut, scratching at the guys back and what not.

“I don’t get why they portray sex like this in the movies, I mean, one minute in and the girl is already creaming her damn pants. So unrealistic,” you scoff. Choso side eyed you, watching as you complained, but he picked up the remote and paused the movie. “What are you doing? Press play.”

He completely ignored you, turning his body halfway towards you so that he was able to see you better. “What do you mean unrealistic?” He questioned, placing down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table along with the remote.

“I don’t know, it just looks so forced? It’s a movie, so what do you expect? Anyway, press play.” You adjust in your seat, bringing your knees up to your chest. Though, he didn’t move a muscle and continued to stare at you. Slowly, you turned your head towards him. “May I help you?”

“You think that looks forced and fake?” Choso asks with a laugh, pointing at the screen.

“Yeah, the guy never does foreplay, never focuses on the girl, they just get their nut and go. Plus, it never even feels good enough to have an orgasm.” You shrug.

Choso looks at you in surprise, mouth nearly dropping open. “Sounds like to me you’ve been with sleeping with some shitty dudes.”

“Okay, well, yeah!” You huff. “You know what? I’m gonna stop talking because I’m not trying to embarrass myself, so please press play!” You smiled at him.

“Come on, tell me! I’m your best friend! You know everything about me!” He argued.

“No, it’s embarrassing.” You shook your head at him, avoiding eye contact.

“Please! You know everything about my sex life! I wanna hear about these shitty guys you’ve been sleeping with, sounds entertaining,” he laughed.

“You tell me about your sex life regardless of what I say, so I don’t wanna hear it,” you chuckle. “Plus, these stories are not entertaining at all.”

Choso crawled up closer to you on the couch. “Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll buy you your favorite snacks for a whole month! I’ll put gas in your car for the month! I’ll cook your favorite food! Anything!” He was begging, your words having caught his interest.

“Cho, leave it alone! I said it was embarrassing, okay? It’s not even about the guys, it’s mostly about me,” you trail off, voice getting quiet.

“Oh.” He blinked. “It’s serious.” He sat close to you.

Finally, you look over at him, bored expression on your face. “It’s not serious, it’s something I have difficulty with and the guys I slept with really didn’t seem to even care or try. They just wanted to fuck just to say they fucked,” you explained, looking at him.

“If you’re afraid I’m gonna make fun of you, I promise I won’t.” He gave you a half smile.

“Pinky promise?” You asked, holding out your pinky.

“Pinky promise.” He interlocked his pinky with yours, tugging on it gently before letting go. “Now, tell me.”

You cleared your throat, getting comfortable in the position you were before you began to speak, “so, the truth is that I have a hard time having orgasms. That’s literally it. And the guys I slept with weren’t so big on the whole foreplay and putting a woman’s pleasure first, and I’m starting to realize that I just have horrible luck when it comes to sleeping with men because that’s not normal,” you awkwardly laugh, looking at your best friend. “Basically, a guy has never made me cum. There, I said it.”

Choso stared at you like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to even say. He never thought that would be the thing to come out of your mouth. He actually thought it was something embarrassing, but it wasn’t. “Wait, so…have you ever made yourself cum?” He asked with a timid voice.

“Like twice, but most of the time I can’t. It’s super frustrating and it takes the pleasure out of it. It sucks knowing that other girls can cum so quick and easy and have guys that worship the ground they walk on, you know?” You slightly frowned. “This is so stupid! I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” The embarrassment kicked in, feeling Choso burn a hole in your face with his stare. You didn’t dare look at him, afraid that he might actually laugh. But when you went to reach for the remote, his hand grabbed at your wrist and stopped you.

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice soft and gentle. He pulled you closer to him and as he did so, your brain felt like it completely stopped working. You had zero clue on what he was doing, but that look in his eyes…he’s never looked at you like that before. Would it be wrong of you to say that you felt nervous and little hot and bothered? “Maybe you just need someone who makes you feel comfortable, relaxed.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “like a boyfriend?” You asked, pulling your wrist away from his grip.

“No…a best friend,” he spoke. Your eyes fluttered up to his before quickly averting your gaze. “Don’t get all shy now, you just told me one of your biggest secrets. Thats what best friends are for, right? Help each other out, tell each other all of our secrets. Or maybe I’ve just been dying to know how you taste all these years. Would you be okay with that? Would you be okay with me making you feel good, hm?”

“Cho…I don’t wanna disappoint you—”

“Disappoint me? Why because you’re afraid you won’t cum? That’s okay, just let yourself feel good, I wanna be the one to make you feel good whether you cum or not. Okay?” You nodded your head at him, biting on the inside of your cheek as you watched him get off of the couch and sink down to his knees in front of you. You thickly swallowed as he stared up at you, his fingers finding the band of your shorts before gently pulling at them. “Don’t be nervous, tonight is about you.” He tossed your shorts on the other side of the couch, leaving you only in your panties.

His hands caressed your thighs, squeezing them, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your inner thighs. “Have I ever told you how much I love your thighs?” He looked up at you with a smirk, placing another kiss on your skin. You shook your head no. “Mmm, well now you know.” He dipped his head further towards your clothed cunt, licking at it just to tease you. Your breath shuddered at the sensation. "Relax, okay?" He gave you a soft smile.

Your heart began beating faster the closer his hands got to the elastic band of your underwear. Slightly lifting your hips, you allowed him to slip the fabric over your legs, moving down your ankles before he tossed them to the floor. You grew nervous and self conscious, clenching your legs shut. Choso has been your best friend for years, but neither of you have never been this intimate with each other before. The most you two ever did was hug. Sure, you shared secrets with each other and basically knew everything going on in your lives, nothing was too much to share between you two. Though, this was an entirely different thing.

He could sense your nervousness and hesitation, sucking in a deep breath as he stared at you with low eyes. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he reassured.

"No, no, I do...it's just we've never talked about this or done anything like this before." You blinked.

He let out a breathy chuckle, smirking up at you. "I never took you to be the shy type."

"Shush!" You brought your hands up to cover your face.

"I'm messing with you," he laughed. "Now, spread your legs and let me see how pretty she is. Pretty please." He reached his hand up to yours, removing them from your face so he could take a look at you. Slowly, you began to spread your legs for him and Choso's eyes seemed to light up in awe, staring down at your cunt like he was a kid in a candy store. "Oh my god," he said under his breath. He reached his thumb up to your clit, slowly rubbing it with light pressure as he watched your hole clench around nothing. "Look at me," he ordered. "I don't want you to think about cumming, I just want you to think about how good it feels, you understand?" You nodded in silence, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

A gasp left your lips when you felt the flat of his tongue rest against your clit. His arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your hips closer to his face as he nestled between your legs. His tongue circled around your clit in a slow motion that made your hips jolt. You tried to conceal your little whimpers, but it was getting hard to with the way he was suckling on your clit.

He let out an audible moan, looking up at you through thick lashes as messily spit onto your cunt, letting it dribble down to your hole. The tip of his tongue licking at your folds. He lapped up your juices, breathing heavily before he came up for air, the lower half of his face glistening with you. "Fuck, you taste so good." He flashed a smile at you, diving right back in between your legs.

Your hips bucked against his face, the feeling of warm tongue moving up and down your cunt, teasing your hole, it felt so good. The tip of his tongue began moving in figure eight motions across your clit, sending chills up your spine. You held back your moans, covering your hand with your mouth as you indulged in the pleasure, letting it take over your mind and body. Your eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the couch.

Choso took notice of your shyness, reaching up to, once again, remove your hand from your face, taking your hand and his and intertwining your fingers. "I wanna hear all the pretty noises you make." He placed a gentle kiss on your swollen clit, squeezing your hand. "How you feeling, hm?"

"Good...it feels good," you breathed out, nodding your head.

"That's what I like to hear. Don't worry about anything else." He rubbed the pad of thumb over your knuckles. He gave you one last look before his eyes averted to your cunt, sucking in a breath before he began sucking on your clit again. He took it upon himself remove his arm from around your leg, his ring and middle finger prodding at your entrance, easily slipping them in.

"Cho," you moaned, jaw slack. He let out a throaty groan, pleased to hear how good he was making you feel. His eyes landed on you again, watching your face contort with pleasure, brown furrowed and eyes dark with lust. His fingers began moving in and out of your sopping hole, slightly curled as he aimed for your g-spot. He wasn't trying to make you cum, he was just trying to make you feel good, let you have an enjoyable experience for once after hearing about all the shitty guys you've been with.

They didn't deserve you, to see you like this, feel you. Choso couldn't be more flattered that you'd let him do this for you. If he had known about this sooner, he would've taken initiative right then and there. All you deserve is the best, to be worshipped like you want and he was here to do that whenever you needed. He pumped his fingers faster, the thought of how those other men treated you were starting to get under his skin.

"Ah! Fuck!" You were panting heavily, chest moving up and down rapidly. Your pussy was making lewd sounds, juices coating his fingers. You squeezed his hand tightly, a whimper leaving your throat as his tongue swirled over the sensitive bud.

"You're doing such a good job for me," he muttered against your skin, kissing your inner thighs. You grew needy as his slowly dragged his fingers against your gummy walls. "Oh," he chuckled, "your pussy is clenching around my fingers. So needy."

"Please, just wanna feel your tongue again," you begged. "You make me feel so good, Cho." Your eyes were filled with desperation, moving your hips against his hand for more friction. Impatient, your hand gripped onto his hair, pushing his head back down to where you needed him most. He let out a deep chuckle, tongue diving between your folds, slurping your juices and spitting them back onto your cunt. Choso grew hungry, feral, wanting to see your eyes roll back.

Your body was coated in a light sheen of sweat, goosebumps littered your skin, and it felt like you couldn't think straight. "Yes! Yes!" You moaned, biting down on your lip so hard you were sure it was going to bleed. "Cho," you called out, whimpering.

"What is it, pretty?" His fingers kept working at you, watching the way your body writhed above him. "Tell me." His voice was soft.

"I think you're gonna make me cum," you choked out, legs slightly shaking with pointed toes.

"Remember what I said, don't think about it, just let it happen." He kept his fingers at the same pace, tongue going back to lap at your clit again. Your little gasps and whimpers told Choso all he needed to know. You were so close. And as much as he'd love to see you cum, he wasn't going to force it upon you, so he kept doing the same thing he was doing just minutes ago. The grip on his hair grew tighter as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.

The feeling and experience was such a rare thing that each time, you came super hard. Your thighs clenched around his head. "Shit! Im cumming! I'm cum-oh my god!" Your entire body began shaking as your orgasm took over, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Choso let out a satisfied moan, tasting you on his tongue, licking up your juices, not daring to waste a drop.

He lifted his head to take a good look at you, seeing the fucked out look on your face brought him joy. "Hey, relax, it's okay," he reassured, rubbing your thighs to soothe you. He could see your body was still slightly quivering. "You're okay." He got up from his knees, sitting back down on the couch as he held you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

"Jesus, Cho," you giggled, out of breath. "Thank you."

"You don't gotta thank me for nothing." He grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him. "Next time you feel like this, you come to me, not anyone else. Promise?" He stared at you, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Promise.

[uchispeach]

Tyrant (One-shot)

Dark! Topper Thornton x Fem! Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON / NON-CON, dacryphilia, manhandling, size kink, jealousy, controlling & manipulative behavior, toxic relationship, deep rooted classism…

A/N: For the plot’s sake, let’s just pretend Sarah doesn’t exist…

“Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina…” The journalist’s monotone voice didn’t entertain your mind for much longer, as the only thing you had seen plastered on the news for days were warnings and recommendations dedicated to your community.

Every paradise had its flaws, and the lack of functioning generators was the only downside to your dad’s 200 year old mansion. So when Agatha came, she did not only take down your step mother’s luxurious outdoor decor and furniture, but also any source of electricity you had ever taken advantage of.

Summer in Outer Banks was a synonym for fun and a deadly heat stroke if you didn’t have access to Air Conditioning. That’s why, you and Wheezie had claimed the 92 foot boat all to yourselves - a place to cool off and sleep without having to wake up to a puddle of sweat -.

“Fuck!” Loud cursing was accompanied by louder footsteps, the individual interrupting your sleep seemed to struggle with coordination as they bumped against everything in sight. “Wheezie, be quiet.” You said with your eyes closed, still half pulled in by unconsciousness.

The staggering figure slowed down, decreasing their disturbing presence to allow your sleep some peace. That didn’t last long though, as the strenuous noise of metal clanging completely woke you up. “God!” Your surprise was accompanied by a high pitched gasp.

“You’re not Wheezie,” the obvious was said. John B did not look even remotely similar to your little sister. “I’m sorry…” Was the first thing the blond pronounced, feeling caught as he held two heavy bags in his naked arms. “What are you doing?…Oh” Your eyes followed his, finding the lacy bralette exposed by your lifted T-shirt. You were quick to pull the fabric down, causing the Pogue to blush.

His rosy cheeks added to his flustered look, combined with the profuse sweat glistening over his entire body. “I’m sorry…” John’s messy hair covered half of his face as he stared down, suddenly interested on the teak floor. “Um…I’m just dropping off some scuba gear.” A tang of dizziness caused you to rub your forehead when sitting down.

“Did you..um…top up the tanks?” Your usually soft voice was polluted by some grogginess. The blond’s biceps flexed shamelessly at you. “No, power’s down, so the compressors were off.” His movements were made with clumsiness, showing the anxiety pumping through his veins.

Your head automatically tilted to the side, still searching for his hazel eyes. For some reason, watching him try to play it cool while failing so miserably had him looking really cute in your eyes. “So, you’re sneaking into Ward’s boat at 5 a.m. with empty tanks…I’ll make sure to tell him.” You got exactly what you were looking for; the boy looked like a fish caught in a hook as he peeled his eyes at you.

“I, I- will just drop this off and-” His light stutter made you chuckle. Without much thought, you walked to his side -closing the distance between both of you with a playful glint on your eyes-. “Let me help you…” He continued to look shocked, remaining frozen when you took one bag from him.

It was not until you both reached the storage room when he finally spoke again: “Hey,” His skin was hot against yours when his big palm gripped your shoulder. “please don’t tell your dad.” You didn’t remember him being so tall.

A messy hair strand fell over his soft features as he towered you against a closed door. “I did borrow your stuff…but-but I brought it back.” You blinked innocently at him, hearing him beg was an unusual sound for your ears. “Intact and unharmed.” He remarked in a quiet tone, going down your eye level.

You hummed in response, pretending to think while biting your lower lip. “All right!” Your shoulders lifted in agreement. And John B gave you a small pat while exhaling in relaxation. “I could be a lot of things but I’m not a snitch.” The whisper was lighthearted -reaching his ears with sweetness-.

Your proximity allowed his warm breath to tickle your lips. “Now, leave. Before I regret helping you poach.” The blond blinked at you as you backed away, making your way back to the boat’s outer part. “Yeah, bye.” His short legs were quick to outpace you, quickly getting him out of the room and onto his jet sky. You only giggled at his velocity.

“Well, I’ll see you around.” You leaned on the boat’s edge, watching him start the engine. “Later” He waved with a half smirk decorating his tanned face. “Later” You repeated to yourself, admiring the speed in which he disappeared between the waves.

Tiredly, you got back to your old position. Your eyes closed in complete calmness, totally oblivious to the nosy girl hiding behind the stairs.

(…)

All the sleep you had gotten on The Druthers had barely prepared you for the exhausting list of chores Ward had put you on as soon as he saw you were awake. “Dad, do we really have to finish the whole yard today?” The black plastic bag was starting to make your right arm go sore from its weight.

The family man only lifted his gloved hand as he continued attending his business call. “Yes, just wait a second.” He said while covering the phone’s speaker. “Sweetheart, you haven’t even filled a whole bag.” You looked down at your own gloved hands, specks of trash decorating the red plastic.

“I’ll finish tomorrow…” You were quick to promise, putting both palms together in a polite plea. “Please,” you made sure to drag the last vowel. “All right, baby girl.” Your father shook his head in defeat, finally dismissing you from a long morning of picking up garbage.

“Thank you!” You expressed your gratitude with effusiveness, quickly abandoning the cleaner’s garments to roam free around the property.

Sun shone comfortably on your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel enthusiastic about the warm weather, very contrasting to the last few days of intense storms and disaster. In the distance, you saw a pair of familiar faces.

Your boyfriend looked slightly annoyed, furrowing his brows together as Wheezy spoke to him. “It was almost like she was flirting with him.” You heard your little sister say, as you neared her grumpy self from behind.

“What’s up, guys?” The black haired jumped slightly when your arms wrapped around her waist. Even under Wheezie’s thick glasses, you could still notice her eyes turning upwards in adolescent irritation. “Hi, top.” Your plump lips stretched on a warm smile at Topper’s handsome presence.

The blond didn’t react at your appearance, a distant grimace in his normally sweet features. Slowly, you pulled away from the girl. Closing the gap between your lover and you to give him a quick peck.

The sound of your lips colliding had your sister grunting in disgust. “Whatever, I’m leaving…” Her small legs took her away, leaving the two of you completely alone.

Affectionately, your arms wrapped around his strong neck. Eyelashes fluttering up at him in a loving stare, “is something wrong?” A stoic look was the only response you got.

Topper was a moody person, often altered by small details and irrelevant interactions. Still, you always made an effort to cheer him up, even in his darkest days.

“C’mon, babe. It’s such a pretty day.” You closed your eyes while whispering on his face, warm breath brushing against his mouth. You kissed him once again, looking to intensify the sensation by grabbing his jaw.

He tensed under your touch, only giving in when your tongue fought to be let in. After a few seconds, he gave in, holding you by the waist as his rough fingers brought you impossibly closer to his toned chest.

The grunt he let out while you threaded your small digits through his hair was animalistic, barely buried by the wet noises your soaked muscles made. One of his palms was already sneaking down your lower back and onto your ass when a strenuous interruption made you stop.

A line of spit kept you connected as you both looked around for the noise’s source. A lawnmower passed right next to you, being obnoxiously loud. The blond pogue smirked playfully, toothpick being toyed around in his snarky mouth.

“Sorry, lovebirds…but I gotta’ do my job.” JJ stood shirtless, gripping the machine like a weapon. You threw him an uncomfortable look, completely pulling away from your boyfriend while adjusting your lifted up top.

The Thornton boy gave him a disapproving look, holding his own waist like a father would do when scolding his kid: “Then get back to it, before I get you fired.” The shorter boy opened his mouth in fake surprise, clearly enjoying the Kook’s angry display.

“All right” The tanned young man raised his arms in a peace sign, moving on with his task. “Tch. Fucking asshole” Your lower lip suffered at your own teeth’s attack, a painful manner of liberating the stress. “Hey, it’s okay.” Topper’s body went stiff under your touch, muscles flexed while he puffed his chest out.

“C’mon, let’s just go inside.” Your fingers weren’t able to go around his huge bicep, still, you tried to get him in the house. The blond mumbled a few curses before finally following your way.

(…)

Your giggles were carried away by the salty breeze. Both of your arms were extended as you carefully walked on the roof’s clay tiles. Each step was taken with a hint of confidence, showing your past experience with this particular spot. “Fuck. Slow down!” Topper was still struggling to take his legs over the window, long calves barely fitting in the wood frame.

“Don’t be scared, I got you.” You took a seat on the sunny ramp, shorts going over your thighs as your skin went in contact with the roof’s warm material. The Kook’s hand-sewn leather shoes weren’t particularly made for climbing up irregular surfaces, and the way in which he wobbled with each move made it clear. “Here!” Your small palm reached out for his, finally impulsing the blond to sit besides you.

“Shit, Y/N” His strong thigh brushed against yours as he shook his head in disagreement. “What?” His tone was aggressive, complementing the sharp look he gave you when a small smile appeared on your face. “Nothing…just admire the view.” The finger pointing at the calm coast was as enthusiastic as you.

Your boyfriend listened, remaining serious while staring at the gentle waves. A sense of comfort washed over you, your hugged knees against your chest and a gentle hand looking for your companion’s touch.

The Thornton boy tensed his jaw when your fingers finally reached for his, nonchalant to the loving grip caressing his harsh knuckles.

You ignored his rough mood, concentrating on the shiny water and graceful sand; noons like this would always be encrypted in your brain - a reminder of how beautiful life could be in the island -. Your small worries were starting to drift away, a soft sigh proving your carefree state. In contrast, Topper was ready to let his concerns out.

When the blond spilled, he stained everyone around him - his morals and rules too stiff to be bent by any one -. A heavy exhalation announcing the arrival of a new conflict, his palms turned into a fist - taking your delicate digits with it -.

“Hey, uh…” His voice went deeper and his stare turned firm when burning into you. “I heard you had a Pogue sneaking’ around here.” The lighthearted smirk you once wore, dissolved into a scowl. “Who-” You had to swallow before continuing: “Who told you that?” Your lashes fluttered once again, but this time in nervousness.

“That doesn’t matter,” And just like that, the sun seemed to hide, allowing a somber shade to pose itself over the blond. Your throat went dry as he opened his sharp mouth once again: “You gotta be careful.” His head tilted slightly to the side, making his recommendation sound much more intimidating.

“These Pogues…” In shock, you slipped your fingers away from him. “They are all lowlifes, criminals…” You couldn’t believe his words, going as far as backing a few centimeters away from his indignation.

“Don’t-” Words got stuck in your tongue as the Kook continued to invade your personal space with an unnerving gaze. “That’s mean, you don’t know them.” Your statement wasn’t as rigid as his, lacking strength when being said by such a quiet tone.

“Why are you defending them?” His sudden change in position had you flinching. The blond tapped the side of his forehead with aggressiveness, signaling his own brain in hopes of getting into yours. “I’m sorry… yeah Y/N, I’m sorry for caring about you.” His whole burly body trembled in frustration.

“Top, it’s not like that.” Your eyes started to sting, a couple of tears struggling to be kept. “My dad was a Pogue too, you can’t-” He didn’t even let you finish, a sour chuckle leaving his rosy lips. “Stop, fucking stop. I’m just worried for-” It was hard to believe him when he spoke such mean words, a gasp was quick to interrupt him - you were desperate to show how ridiculous he was starting to sound -.

“John B works here, do you expect me to spit on his face every time I see him?” Automatically, your legs stretched out - ready to run away from the uncomfortable scene -. “I’m sure he would fucking love that.” An ugly grin accompanied his sentence, followed by a humorless laugh.

In a split of a second, you were already on both feet. The Kook wasn’t slow to react, impulsing his much bigger body up. “You don’t get to leave!” The controlling soul of his demands were starting to overwhelm you.

The threat of a migraine was enough to get you moving, turning your back to him while stomping your way inside the home’s safety. You could feel the heat radiating from his enraged self, stalking you from close behind. “Hey, we’re talking!”

Impulsive, the situation slipping from his hands had him feeling impulsive. You must have seen it coming, you must have obeyed when being begged to stay, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in the need to wrap his long fingers around your frail wrist.

Maybe if your stubbornness had not clouded your senses, he wouldn’t have had to pull you so violently towards him. Either way, nothing prepared you for the awful feeling of losing every sense of balance.

The joints between your legs had failed you, wobbling at the destabilizing pull and causing you to stumble with your own feet. Your first reaction was to grip onto Topper’s polo shirt but your sweaty hands ended up providing a weak grasp.

The scream leaving your vocal cords was one of pure terror, vocalizing the pain your bruised knees experienced while bumping against the roof’s merciless tiles. Your eyelids shut together in fear, expecting the rough fall.

“Shit!” Your limbs relaxed in relief when instead of a cold solid ground, you were received by your boyfriend’s strong arms. “I’m sorry…I’m fucking sorry.” His warmth, his lips on your forehead and the constant rubbing on your back were all too much too soon - leaving you deadly confused in his embrace -.

“It’s-” Your voice came out in choked complaints, a consequence of his brutish hug. “It’s okay…I’m okay.” You didn’t know the reason behind it, but the need to reassure the shaking blond was the utmost of your worries.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry too.” The wish for comfort installed in the pit of your stomach, forcing your puffy face to bury into his huge chest. Topper crushed you deeper into himself, painfully digging his chin into the top of your head. “It’s all right, sweetheart…It’s all right.” Funnily enough, you believed him - feeling ashamed of yourself for ever questioning his sincere ways -.

(…)

The ground you currently stood on vibrated from the obnoxious rap music blasted through Kelce’s expensive speakers. Even the bathroom’s mirror shook slightly, blurring your own reflection.

The pink bikini molded nicely against your curves, making you feel less unconscious about the skimpiness of it. You admired the cute bow poking between perky breasts, hoping the boy outside would love it as much as you did.

Your steps held a confidence to it, playful strides taking you to your boyfriend’s sight. “Wow…I’m dating the hottest girl in the OBX.” His eyes were immediately locked in your figure, completely disregarding the phone that had previously been in his hold. A big smile was plastered all over your pretty face, as you twirled around in a coquettish manner.

Topper’s legs sprawled wider, using his palms to support his beefy body. There wasn’t anything discreet about the way he bit into his lower lip, fixating on the plump flesh of your ass.

“You don’t look so bad yourself” Your voice was sultry, complementing the teasing way in which you bend over to his front’s level. The blond’s jaw tensed alongside his exposed biceps, showing the pent up desire provoked further by the perfect cleavage posed a few inches away.

“Fuck, c’mere” His voice went a tad deeper, making you melt. The strong hands gripping your hips weren’t patient at all, quickly pulling you onto his lap. Your gasp was quickly buried by a hungry kiss, your boyfriend’s tongue lacking shyness when exploring your sweetest spots.

A languid moan was squeezed against avid lips, his fingers groped one of your tits with caressing tips, making sure to pinch your nipple in exquisite pain. His other palm was busy creating friction on your lower back, moving up and down.

“Don’t you dare fuck on my mom’s brand new sheets!” Kelce’s unapologetic shouts were louder than his rude knocking. You could have sworn he was two seconds away from breaking the door with his brutish force. “Shit!” Topper groaned in exasperation, hand abandoning your warm skin to pat the growing tent poking under his shorts.

“Of course not!” You acted almost offended at the lascivious assumption, quickly leaving your boyfriend’s loving embrace to run to the closest mirror.

It took you a few seconds to make yourself look presentable again, having to wipe the remains of running lipgloss mixed with spit from your face. “Hey” You felt a familiar breath fanning the top of your head. “Yes, baby?” His big and strong chest left no room to escape as his mouth neared your ear. “I think it’s better if you just…cover yourself up a little.”

You didn’t know if it was the light rubbing of his pink lips on your earlobe, his flexed arm wrapping delicately around your waist or the subjugating tone of his voice, but you didn’t hesitate twice before taking the oversized T-shirt from his grasp.

(…)

The evening breeze brushed comfortably against your naked legs. A lighthearted giggle left your soft lips, good mood propelled by the fluent conversation going around your friend group.

You had lost Topper a few minutes ago, seeing him getting dragged by a drunk Kelce and your energetic brother. You didn’t mind though, quickly finding your own circle to catch up.

A pair of girls found entertainment while looking over your shoulder, completely disregarding your own presence. It felt strange, looking at the playful stares coming from your friends. You weren’t late to find out the reason, a shriek full of horror and surprise abandoning your throat when you were suspended on the air.

Your feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, instead supported by a tanned arm. “Topper, you maniac!” His exposed chest rumbled on a deep chuckle, enjoying your desperate wriggling.

“You’re looking kinda’ dry” He eyed you up and down, lips morphing into a dangerous grin. “No!” The way you shook your head in desperation was cute, fueling your boyfriend’s playfulness.

Effortlessly, he took arrogant steps towards the big pool, causing you to tighten the hold around his shoulders. People’s cheers and screams were quickly drowned by the cool water.

You barely got to close your mouth at the abrupt fall, quickly grounding yourself on the shallowest part to stick your head out. Light coughs alerted Topper as he rapidly approached you. “Baby, you’re fine! You’re fine!” The blond said as his long fingers squished your cheeks together.

Wet strands of hair blocked your sight, and you were quick to hit at his hard rock chest with annoyment. “I hate you!” Topper couldn’t take you seriously, staring at the way you struggled to accommodate the unruly hair behind your ears.

“No, you don’t…” His tone held a cockiness to it, stupid smirk on his face before taking a peck at your lips. “…You love me!” A few of your friends mocked the sweet interaction, making you finally let go and enjoy the fun scene.

Your bodies floated together on an almost synchronized dance, his big palms long gone to support the softness of your ass in a possessive grip. “Hope you’re having fun.” He whispered softly in your ear, his honeyed tone causing you to hum in response.

Topper spinned you around while you crashed your chest with his. Your chin was supported by his shoulder, allowing you to look at the sweaty teenagers enjoying the messy environment. They all came and went, drinking and dancing carelessly. Still, one of them took you by surprise.

A lost John B looked around in confusion, his rebel blond hair and dirty boots making him stand out among the multitude of curated Kooks. His open shirt had an ugly pattern, taking away from the smooth torso hiding behind it. “Hi!” You jumped slightly on your boyfriend’s hold, sticking out your upper body in excitement.

Forgetful you were, that was for sure. And the realization hit you much after you effusively waved at the kind Pogue. John’s eyes softened at your presence, shyly nearing the pool’s edge. “Hi-” His voice became a whisper when Topper spinned you around once again, this time preventing you from further interaction with the shorter boy.

“This isn’t the Cut.” The Thornton’s voice lacked any sort of respect. Blocked by a pair of wide biceps, you could barely take a glimpse at a clearly uncomfortable John. “Top” You whispered softly while caressing his hot skin, looking for any sort of sympathy inside his arrogant self. “So, you better get lost before I get you kicked out.” Heat reached your face at the sudden threat, your anxiety peaking with the growing aggressiveness in the blond’s tone.

A dilemma clouded your brain, intensified by your boyfriend’s digits digging harshly into your flesh. You were about to speak out when the Pogue rolled his eyes in defeat, his dirty soles taking him away from the both of you. He was clearly pissed, and you could see it in the way he clenched his fists in frustration.

His back became smaller and smaller among the multitude, making you deflate in a tang of disappointment. A sour feeling installed in the pit of your stomach, making you fidget on the tight embrace.

Topper didn’t allow you space for thinking or breathing, quickly taking you by the jaw while licking your lower lip. He groaned at your hesitation, forcing you to follow an aggressive kiss.

(…)

The water clashed violently at the shore, creating a steady rhythm that reached your ears. The wet sand stimulated your toes with its welcoming feeling, tempting you to bury nose-deep into the soaked mass.

The small towel wrapped around your body did little to keep you warm, but you still held to it with intensity. Topper hadn’t stopped staring at you for the whole walk, burning holes into your side with his puzzling stare.

You stopped in your tracks, finally hearing the blasting music and hustle considerably far, stil, there was nothing much you could do about the blinding lights coming from the house - slightly distracting you from the organic view -.

“Right here!” You chirped with newfound excitement, expanding your towel on a dry spot. The long T-shirt had been long lost, leaving you half naked. Still, you laid comfortably on the absorbing fabric, extending your legs while supporting your weight with relaxed elbows.

The warm smile plastered on your face was very inviting, luring the blond to the same position as you. His muscles flexed at the effort, every feature of his being outlined by the moonlight.

Your eyelashes fluttered at your side, accepting the heat coming from his heavy body. Topper had been oddly quiet since the pool scene, making you feel a bit unbalanced.

In an effort of lighting his mood up, you pointed at the sky: “You see? Right there is the Big Dipper.” Your boyfriend didn’t give a verbal response, simply following your finger for the marvelous sight. “And then those stars…” The celestial bodies shined brightly. “… in the scoop point…” Your breathing slowed down when you felt his at the side of your neck.

“To the North Star-” Your explanation died down little by little when you felt a wet muscle licking down your jugular. It paralyzed you, the sounds of wet kisses traveling down your clavicle, where he sucked avidly in hopes of leaving some purple spotches. “Top” You called out for him at a particular hard suck.

Half-hearted whines falling deaf to the blond’s ears, who continued untying the back of your top. Your nipples were quick to react to the cool weather, further stimulated by your boyfriend’s passionate sucking.

His tongue lolled around the mounds of flesh, causing your fingers to tangle between his soft locks. Your brain felt mushy under his pawing, barely registering the new position you were subjected to.

Red, your chest was all red from his attack; still, he wasn’t satisfied - going down your abdomen until reaching your lower belly -. “Wanna show you who this belongs to.” You didn’t enjoy the raspiness in his voice, nor the aggressive way in which he tugged at the garment.

Your lower lip suffered under your teeth, a typical mannerism you had under stressful situations. “Wait, no.” The piece of fabric was already being ripped away from you when your legs reacted by themselves; accidentally kneeing him on the face while pulling away from his hold.

Instinctively, you crawled back. Watching him rub his jaw in a pained state.

Guilt, you felt guilt. There was no reason to not want to be intimate with him, it wasn’t a foreign concept in your relationship, still, you cringed away from his touch as he approached you once again.

Your rejection was unconscious, a quick reaction to what your body deemed as an invasion. “I-” A knot formed in your throat, preventing you from saying a thing as his eyes darkened.

The once soft features turned sharp, and he didn’t think twice before launching himself at you. “Topper, wait!” Patience left you, quickly replaced by the urgence of being set free.

His name sounded like a plea as you repeated it time and time again. You were taken by surprise when he manhandled you into all fours, locking an arm under your waist while pinning your upper body down on the sand.

His dressed erection poked at your core, roughly rubbing against it. Your boyfriend groaned, clearly clouded by lust as his selfish hands pulled the only thing that kept your cunt from him. You sobbed out a ‘please’ when his cold digits brushed against your slit, greedily entering one of them into the dry cave.

You could only sob when his thumb started circling your clit, pulling an involuntary moan from you. A finger quickly became three, and the squelches coming from your stretched hole weren’t fully drowned by the nearby waves.

The blond only responded with animalistic sounds, seemingly fueled by your fight. His finger thrusted harder into you, sending a wave of pleasure over your unwilling sex.

Panic started rising as you heard him pull out his cock, instantly holding you steady against the throbbing member. Your hand found itself pushing flat against his toned pelvis, doing your best to put some distance between both bodies.

The Thornton boy shushed you in response, gently pulling away your palm. “Don’t cry…” You wailed inconsolably, your salty tears hitting the salty ground. “…I just wanna make you feel good.” A flinch was all he received when pinning both of your arms in one hand.

Your movements were completely restricted, leaving you at his complete mercy. With soft fingertips, he pushed your hair to the side, leaving an open field to lay down kisses.

His lips were gentle with your nape, alongside the reassurance pronounced by them. So contrasting to the mean tip entering your sex.

His pace was tortuously slow, making you feel every vein on his thick shaft while praising the wetness and warmth he was received with. “This pussy is all mine...” Bliss was all you could hear in him, gaining the confidence to grind harder against your ass.

“… no Pogue can change that.” And as the tip of his long cock bruised your cervix, you couldn’t help but cry a little louder.

.

.

.

[leighsartworks216]

One More Chapter

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is the shorter of two fics I want to get out tonight, but it makes me really soft. Just imagine his really deep, quiet voice speaking in a low rumble.

Warnings: teasing, pet names, fluff

Word Count: 623

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

“How many more times will you yawn before you finally go to bed?” Sylus mused, turning a page in his book. “Let’s count, shall we?”

You sigh. If there’s one thing Sylus excelled at, it was finding the perfect way to prod at your nerves. Unfortunately, you were too drained to snap back.

The page scratches uncomfortably as you flip it, shooting uncomfortable goosebumps down your arm. “Once I finish this chapter, I’ll go to bed.”

He hummed nonchalantly. “This wouldn’t happen to be the same chapter you were on the last time you made that promise, now, would it?”

You glared at him over the edge of your book. He knew very well it wasn’t. It’s not your fault the last chapter left on a cliffhanger. You just needed to find out what happened next, and then you could go to bed! Just one more chapter-

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your yawn.

“One.”

You grab the sides of your book with more force than necessary and bury your face in its pages. The words were a little blurry, forcing you to strain more to read them. Sentences were slower to process, especially when it came to deciphering how they connected to the plot. Who did and said what got mixed up more times than you want to admit. But you got through a page through sheer determination to spite the Onychinus leader.

“Two.”

Every time he spoke, you bristled. And yet every time you looked up at him, he couldn’t seem to be bothered to take any interest in you, engrossed in his own book. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was a novel on unique torture methods.

By the time Sylus counted to five, you couldn’t read the words anymore. Your vision was fuzzy no matter how many times you rubbed your eyes. Even if you could glimpse a word or two, the synapses in your brain couldn’t even begin to conceive of registering them.

A hand grabbed the book, thumb resting at the center of the pages as it was removed from your grasp. You couldn’t even think of snatching it back. The piece of paper you were using as a bookmark was picked up by another hand and slipped into your story, safely marking your place, before it was shut.

With nothing to distract yourself, your exhaustion caught up with you in an instant. Your body sagged into the sofa, eyes closing even as you fought to open them again.

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you to bed.”

Strong arms slipped under your knees and behind your back, lifting you effortlessly from the plush cushions. The movement startled you, rocketing your tired brain into a panic as you grabbed onto him. His arms tipped you further into his chest, your head landing solidly against his shoulder. The quick beating of his heart resonated in your ear.

“I won’t drop you.”

You watched him carry you through the halls of the mansion, counting the bars on the handrail as he began ascending the stairs. You sighed as you curled up further into Sylus’s arms, letting your eyes fall shut once more. “You better not…”

He chuckled. You felt it in your own chest.

The next moments are a haze. You remember the welcome embrace of a bed. Cool sheets, warm blankets, all holding you in a big hug. Your body had a mind of its own as it stretched out, toes pointing and back arching, before curling into a ball. When you reached out blindly, unsure yourself what you could be reaching for, a soft plushie made its way into your arms.

A warm hand brushed your hair back from your face. “Sleep tight, kitten.”

[artvscvntymullet]

CHAPTERS OF US - ARTHUR TV

content warnings : a small argument, but nothing really !

word count : 2500 words

A/N : i literally owe my lungs to @smzyyx thank you for the suggestion of the fic, literally saved my writers block !! check her page out guys, the fics fucking slay each time

masterlist here !!

THE BOOKSTORE :

It had been raining all afternoon, soft and rhythmic, the kind that seemed to quiet the whole city into stillness. You’d ducked into the bookstore partly for shelter, partly because the smell of old pages and quiet corners was better than whatever your day had planned for you. Your fingers skimmed along a familiar row — fiction, alphabetised by author — looking for something that felt right.

You weren’t expecting company.

But the second you rounded the corner into the next aisle, you stopped short, nearly colliding into someone.

“Ah—shit, I'm so sorry, are you OK?,” came the voice before anything else, warm. A little startled, but still amused.

You looked up and caught him — tall, curly-haired, wearing a navy jumper and the kind of slightly sleepy expression that meant he’d probably lost track of time in here. He had a copy of The Secret History tucked under one arm and the faintest dimple in his left cheek.

Your eyes met for a second too long.

“No harm done,” you said, offering a polite smile as you stepped back.

“Do you always approach people like that? Full speed in the fiction section?” he teased.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Only when they’re standing between me and my next book.”

He followed your gaze and nodded toward the book in your hand. “Rebecca. Classic, eerie and a bit tragic.”

“And you’ve got The Secret History,” you countered, tilting your head. “Lots of murder. I’m sensing a pattern.”

“I like a little drama,” he said with a shrug. “Have you ever read it?”

You shook your head. “It’s on my list.”

He smiled then, a genuine one — soft, but bright enough to stay with you. “Arthur,” he said, offering his hand.

You gave him your name, took his hand for a brief second. It was warm, grounding.

“Well,” he said, stepping aside, “I’ll let you get back"

“Thanks,” you said, though you lingered a moment longer before walking away.

Neither of you asked for numbers, no flirting past that moment. But as you turned to leave and the bell over the door chimed, you caught him glancing up from his book — just once — like he was trying to remember the shape of your smile.

THE PARTY :

Chris, Arthur Hill and George’s flat was loud in that cosy, mismatched way they always managed — too many people, music spilling out of old speakers, and the scent of takeaway and cheap wine in the air.

You hadn’t planned to stay long, but then, from across the room, you saw Arthur.

He was leaning against the kitchen doorway, cup in hand, in conversation with someone you couldn’t see. He was wearing a jacket this time, charcoal grey over a white t-shirt, curls messier and mullet longer than you remembered. When his eyes landed on you, he did a double take, his expression flickering from surprise to something softer — recognition. That same dimple.

“Well, well,” he said, pushing off the wall and weaving through the crowd toward you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You smiled, raising your drink in mock salute. “Plot twist, huh?”

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said with a grin.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

He gave you a look like that was the most stupid thing he’d heard all night. “Hard to forget someone who nearly ran into me with a copy of Rebecca.”

“Fair enough,” you laughed.

“How do you know George?” he asked, stepping a little closer, the music made it easier to justify the space between you.

“Mutual friends, we went to uni together for about ten minutes before I dropped my major and switched to lit.”

He raised a brow, interested. “Ah, that explains the bookstore.”

“And the overuse of grammar in texts,” you added.

He grinned again. “I should get your number, then. For, you know… literary debates.”

“Oh, definitely, philosophical questions like: is it morally acceptable to turn corners of pages?”

His expression turned mock-serious. “I swear no one does that.”

You reached for your phone and handed it to him. He typed his name in — Arthur TV — and hesitated for a second before handing it back.

And just like that, the story shifted.

THE FIRST DATE :

He picked you up on a Friday night, wearing a button-down that made him look handsome and charming. The bar he chose was tucked between two shops, dimly lit, the kind of place with jazz humming softly under the clink of glasses.

“I’ve been wanting to try this place for ages,” he said, as he pulled your chair out. “Figured if the food’s bad, at least the company’s good.”

You smirked. “Confident.”

He held up his bottle in a toast. “Optimistic.”

You talked for hours — about books, music, the worst dates you'd ever had, your dream cities, and why you both moved to London. At one point, he leaned forward and asked, “What’s something you’ve never told anyone on a first date?”

You thought about it. Then said quietly, “I write. Poems, mostly.”

He didn’t laugh, didn’t tease. Just smiled, warm and sure. “I’d love to read one someday.”

After dinner, he walked you home, your fingers brushing now and then until he laced them together.

At your building, he stopped. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low, careful. You nodded, heart racing.

The kiss was soft, slow. When he pulled back, he whispered, “Told you I was optimistic.”

THE SIX MONTHS :

Arthur was pacing in front of the oven, a dish towel slung over his shoulder like it meant something. You leaned against the counter, sipping wine and trying not to laugh as he peered into the pot for the third time in two minutes.

“I feel like I should be worried,” you teased.

“You should be,” he muttered. “This was supposed to be ready twenty minutes ago, and I think I burnt the garlic.”

You crossed the room and bumped his hip lightly with yours. “You’re adorable when you’re stressed.”

“I’m trying to be romantic,” he said, looking genuinely flustered. “You deserve candles and perfect pasta and a playlist that doesn’t shuffle wrong.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, on your tiptoes, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. “I already have everything I wanted. You, me, our song playing quietly, something probably edible on the stove.”

He exhaled, turning in your arms. “You’re very forgiving.”

The pasta turned out slightly overcooked but warm and comforting, like everything else he gave you. He lit two crooked candles anyway, and when you teased him about the uneven wax drips, he grinned and said, “It’s called charm.”

Later, after the plates were stacked haphazardly and you’d changed into his oversized jumper, you sat curled up on the couch together, legs tangled.

“You know,” he said quietly, tracing circles against your knee, “this is the longest I’ve ever been with someone and not felt the need to run.”

You turned your face toward him. “Have you been tempted?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “That’s the thing. I feel like I could build a life with you.”

You swallowed hard, heart fluttering like he’d handed you something too delicate to hold. “I feel that too,” you said.

THE ARGUMENT :

It was small. At first. He forgot to text you back one evening — plans left in limbo, a dinner reservation gone cold, your new dress, wrinkled from waiting on the couch too long.

You told yourself not to be upset. But when he showed up at your door with breathless apologies and no real reason, you couldn’t help it. “I just waited, Arthur. For hours.”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry—”

“But you could’ve said something. Anything, you always do. So what changed tonight?”

He paused, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, guiltily. “I lost track of time. Today was a mess. I just shut down a bit.”

You stood still, arms folded. “If you’re going to shut me out, I need to know. I can’t guess when it’s me, or when it’s everything else.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” he said, too fast, too rehearsed. “I just needed space.”

“That’s fine. But space doesn’t mean disappearing.”

The silence after that wasn’t cruel, just heavy.

He left that night with a quiet, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” and a hesitant brush of your hand.

THE MORNING AFTER :

It rained the next morning — a gentle, persistent drizzle that made the morning feel softer, but bleak somehow.

You heard the knock around 9 am.

When you opened the door, Arthur stood there holding two coffees and a paper bag of pastries, curls damp from the walk. “I didn’t want to text,” he said quietly. “Didn’t feel like enough.”

You stepped aside without saying anything. He set the coffees down, turned to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You were right. I got overwhelmed and instead of saying that, I disappeared. I won’t do that again, promise.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I don’t need you to be perfect. Just present. With me.”

He stepped closer, gently brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “I am. I want to be with you, always.”

You melted into him then, burying your face in his jumper, and he held you like he never wanted to let go.

You ate the pastries cross-legged on the couch, your head on his shoulder, your fingers tangled.

THE MOVE IN :

It started with little things. A draw. A hoodie here, a toothbrush there.

And then one night, over takeaway, Arthur looked up and said, “So, do we keep beating around the bush, or do you just move in already?”

You blinked. “Are you sure? I snore sometimes. And I leave tea mugs everywhere.”

“I'm positive. I want to trip over your shoes every morning and argue over who takes the bin out”

You moved in three weeks later. The first few weeks were bliss and chaos — mismatched furniture, your books invading his shelves, arguing over duvet covers and whether it was acceptable to have fairy lights in the living room (yes).

There were nights of falling asleep mid-conversation and mornings of lazy coffee on the balcony, feet in his lap, sun warming your cheek.

One evening, as he watched you reading on the couch in his hoodie, he said softly, “Feels like home now.”

THE PROPOSAL :

It wasn’t a grand gesture.

It was late autumn, chilly and crisp, and he took you back to the little bookshop where you first met.

He led you to the very same aisle — fiction, alphabetised by author — and said, “Do you remember this spot?”

You smiled, heart catching in your throat. “You mean when I nearly knocked you over?”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a worn copy of Rebecca. Inside was a folded slip of paper and a tiny velvet box tucked between the pages.

You stared, Arthur knelt.

“From the moment we met, every chapter’s been better than the last. And I want the rest of the story to be us — every folded-over page, everything life throws at us, every quiet Sunday. Will you marry me?”

You didn’t speak right away — just nodded, eyes glassy, before whispering, “Yes. Yes. Of course.”

When he slid the ring on your finger, it felt like the final sentence of one chapter — and the first line of the next.

[scottiexmariee]

Gullible

Characters: Sylus, MCReader (Luke and Kieran mentioned)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Slightly suggestive, Sylus’ fav nickname

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: After making a bet with Luke and Kieran, you sneak into Sylus’ room to locate an object. Unfortunately, you find out later on that it may have been a trick...

Masterlist

Note: This is slightly inspired by Midnight Stealth, but does not have the same plot. I wanted to include how Luke & Kieran are devious little instigators and pushing our favorite ship.

“Can I help you with something?”

Shit.

You froze at the unmistakable sound of Sylus’ voice sounding out from behind you. You’d snuck into his room while he was away, rummaging through every nook, cranny and drawer you could find. Your target? A dime-sized purple gem that Sylus apparently kept around here somewhere.

Why? Because Luke and Kieran bet you that you wouldn’t be able to find it. Did it sound like complete bullshit? Absolutely. However, a bet was made, and you’d be damned if you didn’t actually try to win that bet.

“Nothing!” You responded, quickly slamming the drawer of his nightstand shut and whirling around to face him. There was no reasonable way to pretend you weren’t just digging through all of Sylus’ personal items, but you were definitely going to try.

“Really? Nothing?” He drawled, taking a purposefully slow step forward. “Because it seems to me that a certain kitten is in here causing trouble,”

Great. Of course you’d get busted. You glanced toward the clock, realizing that you’d lost track of time during your search. Realistically, you should have dipped a half an hour ago. You looked back to Sylus. He stood there, arms folded across his chest as he inspected you, clearly waiting for some kind of bullshit excuse or lie. He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to speak. His silence was eerie, and his overall presence was authoritative. Demanding. You took a breath, attempting to steel your nerves before you spoke.

“I misplaced the brooch. I was looking for it,” You lied.

Silence.

Sylus blinked a few times. After a moment, the corner of his lips curled up into a smirk. He took another step forward, giving you a skeptical once-over. “You lost the brooch?” He asked, a hint of mirth in his tone. It sounded more like a statement than a question.

You swallowed, attempting to battle the sudden dryness in your throat. “Mhmm. It’s gone,”

“Interesting,” Sylus responded, taking yet another deliberate step forward. He maintained eye contact as he came to a stop about two feet away. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you somehow lost the brooch I gave you…so you’re in my room looking for it. Is that correct?”

It sounded even worse coming out of his mouth. There was absolutely zero chance that he was buying it, and you quickly realized that it would be better to cut your losses and escape before this got messier.

“Well, the good news is that it wasn’t here!” You chirped. You mentally cringed at how awkward your voice sounded. You were undoubtedly blushing from the embarrassment, and you most definitely looked guilty as hell. “So, uh…I’ll just be on my way, then.”

“I don’t think so,” He chuckled, catching your wrist with ease and completely extinguishing your hope for a swift escape. Bastard. He pulled you slightly closer, leaning down to get closer to eye-level. If your cheeks weren’t red before, they definitely were now. He studied your face, his crimson eyes piercing right through you. “Would you like to try that again with a better lie?”

It felt like you’d been punched in the gut. “W-what?” You stammered out, trying to play it off. Truthfully, you weren’t surprised. That man wasn’t an idiot, and you’d given him a very lame excuse. “I don’t know what you’re–”

“I thought I’ve told you to get better at lying if you want to fool me,” He said, grabbing your chin with his free hand. His tone was almost….mocking. He dropped your chin and began fiddling with your shirt.

The noise that left your mouth could only be described as a startled squeak. “What the hell are you–”

You were cut off by Sylus lifting his hand in front of your face. Nestled between two of his fingers was a black and red object that gleamed in the light. “Next time, make sure you aren’t wearing the object you claimed to have lost,”

Oh.

Before you could fully process what was happening, you were being guided toward the door.

“I can explain-”

“Not interested,” He said curtly. “Leave. I have things to do,”

When the door shut behind you, you stood there like a scolded dog with its tail between its legs. Out of all the possible bad endings, getting caught red-handed by Sylus and then telling the worst lie imaginable was probably the worst ending.

You realized that you very quickly needed to come up with a different approach.

—

After two more failed attempts to search for the elusive purple gem, you decided a friendlier approach would be worth a shot. You took a steadying breath outside of the door to Sylus’ room, your fingers tightening around the neck of the ‘peace offering’ Luke and Kieran had given you. They had insisted upon a peace offering and given you a bottle of an alcohol that you couldn’t even pronounce the name of. “He won’t be able to resist!” Kieran had insisted–so you’d taken the bottle as a last ditch attempt to not lose that stupid bet. The significance of the gem meant nothing to you, but losing that bet would cost you your ego, and that was a price you weren’t willing to pay.

Knock, knock.

“Sylus? It’s (y/n),”

There was a pause, and for a moment you weren’t sure if he was going to acknowledge you, until the door swung open just enough for you to enter. You could see the remnants of a black and red mist dissipating from around the handle. Sylus’ commanding voice rang out from somewhere across the threshold, “Enter.” Based on his tone, he wasn’t in the mood for games.

You entered and quietly shut the door behind you. Sylus was at his desk, eyes glued to some papers in his hand. He made no attempt to look at you when you entered.

You quietly closed the distance to his desk, raising the hand that contained the mysterious alcohol, brandishing it as if it were a trophy. You cleared your throat and gestured to it with your free hand.

Sylus finally lifted his head, his eyes immediately landing on the bottle in your hand.

“A peace offering,” You explained, setting the bottle down in front of him.

There were several long moments where Sylus didn’t say anything. He slowly looked at the bottle, then you, then back to the bottle. “Kitten,” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Where exactly did you get this?” His eyes settled on you, and the unmistakable amusement was clear.

Why does he think this is funny? Does he not like this stuff?

“Um…do you not like–”

“Can you even read what this says?” He questioned, spinning the bottle to face you. That signature, infuriating smirk was back on his face. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I would think this was a little…suggestive for a peace offering,”

You froze.

Suggestive?

You snagged the bottle off of the desk, desperately scanning the bottle and trying to make sense of the words. Sylus leaned back in his chair, looking like he was having the time of his life at your expense.

For some reason, the thought of admitting that it had come from Luke and Kieran hadn’t crossed your mind yet.

“Okay, fine,” You grumbled, feeling a familiar frustration well up in your chest. This was a very common feeling around a man like Sylus. “I don’t know what it is, I just thought maybe it would work as a peace offering,”

Sylus let out a huff of air. “Peace offering,” He echoed, rubbing his chin. He seemed to be fighting off a smile. “I don’t think an aphrodisiac beverage is going to get you the ‘peaceful’ results you’re searching for,”

“What?!” You brought the bottle even closer, as if that was somehow going to make you understand the language. “Where does it–”

“That’s a pomegranate and honey infused liquor,” Sylus explained, staring holes through you. “That, kitten, is an aphrodisiac. Are you sure you’d like to use that as a ‘peace offering?’”

Gears began slowly clicking into place as you realized what was happening.

You had been completely, 100% set up by Luke and Kieran. And you were certain that they were having the time of their lives as they waited to hear exactly how this had gone.

“Those two!!! I swear!!” You groaned in frustration, sinking down into the chair across from the desk and running a hand through your hair.

You were going to throttle them after this. Better yet, you were going to strangle them both.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to you.

“Sylus,” You began, “You don’t happen to have a small purple gem around here anywhere, do you?”

You raised your head to look at him. He furrowed his brows, studying you carefully before answering. “I don’t. Why? Would you like one?”

Your palm connected with your forehead.

Yep, you’d been absolutely had.

Sylus, upon your reaction, seemed to connect the dots. He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and sighed, looking at you with an expression that was much softer than the previous one. “You’re so gullible, kitten,” He said, shaking his head. He rose from the desk and walked around to the front of it.

You were suddenly lifted from the chair and placed on the desk, eliciting a startled gasp from you. He placed his palms on the desk on both sides of you, effectively boxing you in.

“Ground rule,” He began, his tone serious. “You can ask me anything. Anything. Instead of making yourself look like a fool, ask me first to spare yourself the trouble. I have nothing to keep from you. Understood?”

You nodded, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. Whether it was from the embarrassment or his proximity, you weren’t sure.

Sylus brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now. Tell me what those two sent you on a hunt for,” He said, maintaining eye contact.

“A small purple gem,” You responded, averting your eyes. “They bet me that I couldn’t find it,”

Sylus rose, folding his arms over his chest and, thankfully, giving you room to breathe. He looked thoughtful.

“Let’s go,” He said, motioning for you to follow, leaving no room for protest.

You hopped down from the desk, and you were certain you had visible question marks above your head. Where was he taking you?

Sylus, sensing your confusion, chuckled. That infuriating smirk had returned.

“I said I didn’t have a gem like the one you described,” He said, giving you a once-over. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know where to acquire one,”

You felt your eyebrows shoot up. He was going to help you?

He turned and began walking toward the door, once again beckoning for you to follow.

“Sylus, wait! Why are you helping me all of the sudden?” You asked, quickening your pace to catch up with him.

This time, when he turned to face you, he had a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Games get a lot more fun when I’m involved. And the look on someone’s face when they lose a bet they weren’t expecting to lose…is worth the price of a measly purple gem,”

Note: Updated the formatting for this with new banners, will be sticking with this format from here forward! This was my first official fic. Thank you for interacting! :D

[districtunrest]

ONGOMGOMGOMG. (share thoughts. any n all. you know i need to know. PLEASE!)

HAHA sorry. anyway:

I didn’t really like it and I’m sad about it. ☹️ even though there were some interesting ideas and cool new characters, I was taken out of the story too much to fully enjoy them. it read to me like the laziest (most rushed? least edited?) yet most forced storytelling of the series, which sucks bc it’s supposedly the REAL backstory of my favorite character. but I just couldn’t shake my doubt while reading that this was what we and Katniss were missing all along. too many details (that I memorized by heart as a tween and have made everyone’s problem since) didn't match up, even with the card-stacking*. so I just don't believe this was always the intended ‘real’ story when it’s so hidden from the trilogy... imo, SC went back to it with a mission statement in mind after recent current events (and, more tellingly, after Ballad) and did her thing. which is fine, that's her right - it's just, when this whole book seems more like a writing workshop thought experiment than the intended backstory, I will treat it as such. bc as it stands, all the callbacks & connections & Everlark parallels in the world cannot replace Katniss & Peeta watching the highlight tape of his Games, Haymitch telling them what he did was “almost but not quite” as bad as them with the berries, Katniss finally understanding who he is in that moment, and Haymitch later admitting the loss of his loved ones were because of "that stunt [he] pulled with the forcefield" (which is. simply not true anymore with all of his stunts in and out of the arena). like say no more, that’s good enough for me! it’s what I prefer and what I find more compelling than what’s revealed/subverted in Sunrise. and tbh that discrepancy makes Sunrise unfaithful, at least in my eyes, for all it relies on references to the rest of the series. 

now, obviously I had mixed feelings about this prequel in the first place, and my concerns/reservations mounted with each excerpt, only to be confirmed now... but I did try, okay!?? haha I’d told you and several others privately that I really wanted to like this book and I was willing to set aside my gripes if it was good - but it had to actually be good! instead, the book was exactly what I was afraid it was going to be *and* suffered a drop in quality. I found the narration underwhelming, dumbed down and repetitive, and not evocative of Haymitch's voice. even things I thought there was NO WAY would actually happen and I was just being paranoid - but then they did, lmao. like, it was a letdown for me personally *and* it didn’t even do it well enough where I could at least respect it and oblige, lol

overall, it was just too off for me. by answering and explaining so much, it ended up taking away a lot of the trilogy's charm and intrigue - and did so in a way that left a bad taste in my mouth. it made me view Ballad in a more negative light, too, tbh. so I think going forward I’ll just consider it a weird spinoff that is secondary to the main/trilogy canon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(some more Haybitching under the cut)

tbh, what guts me the most is what SC chose to do with Haymitch’s voice & character, where she watered him down to what he needed to be for this lesson & this plot. it’s frustrating that the dangerous, cunning, arrogant boy that Katniss sees in the highlight reel and can easily recognize in adult Haymitch is all an act. the character we thought we knew is not present here, sacrificed to make yet another point about propaganda, and that’s a crying shame. and his deterioration in the final chapters is so underwhelming (as are the death scenes 🫣) - I've read that same story countless times but told better by people who love the character as is and weren't on a time crunch for a movie deal, I guess.

Sunrise!Haymitch skews shockingly immature and moralistic and hates the idea of being a sarcastic, selfish “rascal." but since when are we calling surviving and fighting to get home in an unthinkable situation selfish? that’s now assumed in Sunrise’s logic, where instead having a ginormous alliance against the Careers with no exit plan (big ‘WHAT IF ALL THE TRIBUTES BANDED TOGETHER AND DIDN’T FIGHT?’ energy) is much smarter and nobler than going it alone and heading in one direction to get to the edge for no reason other than bc nobody had tried it before and trilogy!Haymitch, we know, is an out-of-box thinker & strategist. I know he & Ambert were operating under the notion that they were going to lose no matter what and had their own plans (which. hmm) but it was just so oddly accepted by the Newcomers, too, who had no such threat from Snow. they were so willing to be selfless martyrs and band together when they all know at the end of the day there can only be one survivor - which was heartening in a way, sure, but it almost seemed trite? and again, needlessly moralistic in an established world like Panem, where these things happen every year...? not even self-righteous (Katniss' words but with Haymitch's backing!) Peeta 'not a piece in their games' Mellark thought so narrowly. Idk. I might have to mull that one over more. but anyway, then Haymitch trying to rescue Maysilee is turned into a mini redemption arc in post, when all it was in the first place was a glimpse into his protective & caring nature underneath all the bravado, which was surely part of Katniss’ deepening understanding of him. but Sunrise wasn’t interested in exploring that, either, or even honoring it. okay

and I can’t get over how SC had to kind of retcon the final pages of Mockingjay to fit Haymitch’s epilogue into it, which didn’t help how it already rang so hollow for me, I hate to say. it’s not even done well, containing the most rushed, wrap-up-everything-before-the-deadline writing I’ve ever seen from SC (and it STILL doesn’t read like Haymitch’s voice to me :/). some things can just be; they don’t need some big, loaded, tragic explanation. Haymitch can glibly call Katniss ‘sweetheart’ once, bc she’s been sullen & hostile to him and he is in fact sarcastic (the horror!), only for it to go on to become an actual term of endearment by the end - like, that’s lovely in and of itself. why weigh it down further? who asked for that? I know I didn’t. 

most insignificantly & pettily of all: geese do mate for life - as in monogamously, meaning they stay together until one of them dies. then, they mourn and find another mate. just putting that out there, lmao

*how tf was Haymitch able to kiss his token and set up a bomb and throw it over the edge and put his token back when we know he was convulsing from shock by the end? to where Silka was able to start staunching her wound as she waited for him to die? if him going into shock was taken from footage anytime after, the arena would've been quaking/on fire around him?? Idk fam. it just feels off.

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 2

Sorry this update took a little longer, I had some personal stuff going on and my work schedule was pretty packed this week.

Also, this is a fix-it fic. It'll be following the events of the whole series so buckle in y'all. Also also, I shit on Tamlin a lot in these next chapters but it has a purpose I promise!

Chapter warnings: Warnings: Mention of abuse/ trauma, one comment about weight in terms of said said abuse , minor blood

WC: 9.6K

Read the previous parts here

[prologue] [chapter 1]

Next Part [here]

“Rhys is the most handsome High Lord.” I read line after line of similar words. I rolled my eyes at my brother's antics. 

“He’s sure laying it on thick.” I say as I sat down next to Feyre. She looks up from her writing and gives me a guarded laugh. 

“At least I’m entertaining.” She huffs out. 

“I can help you too, if you want. Give you a break from him.” She raises her eyebrow at me, studying me with a look that made me want to sink in on myself. 

“Why?” She asks sharply  

I willed my temper down. “Because despite what Tamlin might tell you, we’re not evil,” I spit out at her, she doesn’t flinch even slightly at the venom in my voice. “And you’re going to be here once a month for the foreseeable future. I’d like us to at least tolerate each other. Plus, it would piss off my brother.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“You should have started with that.” And that was that. I pushed Rhys’ papers to the side and picked out a few books that had been my favorite. The plots are interesting enough to make up for the basic words used. Feyre caught on fairly easily. She could recognize almost all of the basic words but struggled to read them out loud. Not fully understanding how the sounds mashed together. We sat and read, and then when that got to be too much for her we just started talking. It was nothing deep, not really gossip either. Just casual words thrown back and forth until she asks out of the blue. “What’s the deal with Tamlin and Rhys?” I froze into stillness only fae possessed. Sensing my discomfort she backtracked. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” Her voice held a little edge of fear. I forced my shoulders to relax. 

“No, you have every right to ask. It’s…complicated. You’re walking into centuries old distrust and unfortunately, are caught in the middle.” It wasn’t fair to her to be caught in all of this old shit. That was our baggage and I could see it was affecting her but she pressed on.

“But why do they hate each other so much?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.” She narrowed her eyes at my non-answer. I sighed. “We’ve both done some terrible things to each other's courts, the wounds run deep and that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” She would not let up. 

“Because you love Tamlin. And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to ruin whatever picture you have of him.” That really seemed to pique her curiosity. 

“You had a different experience with him?” It felt like she had punched me in the stomach. No. That’s the problem, I had the exact same experience with him and I ended up just as broken as I can see you’re becoming. 

“That’s not a story for today.” I tried to keep the shake out of my voice and maybe it was that, or the fear I know I couldn’t keep off of my face that made her drop the subject with a small, “okay”. 

It was lunch time before we decided to take a break.  “Do you want to eat here or go out with the others?” 

“Rhys will just pull me out if I don’t.” 

“My brother can fuck off. What do you want to do?” I saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her face. So we ate in the library. I left only long enough to stack up two plates full of food. Rhys took in the amount of food I was grabbing, 

“Hungry today?” I only stuck my tongue out at him and walked back out of the room. 

Rhys joined us a little after lunch. If he was surprised to still see me in here, he didn’t let it show. I didn’t leave until Feyre told me she was okay with me doing so. 

It was probably overkill to be so protective of her, Rhys was the last person who would ever try to hurt her or anything like that but she was still uneasy around him. She hid it well with the sheer disdain she showed him but I could tell from the rigidness of her shoulders and that slight edge in her voice. But there was also something else there that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

Feyre had stayed in the library long after their meeting. I found her hunched over another book, finger slowly tracing over the words. She hardly looked up as I placed another plate of food in front of her and went to walk out of the room. She didn’t call after me and I was okay with that. Scared she might start another round of questions. 

I didn’t see much of her after that. So I traveled back and forth between Velaris. Spending half my time at the manor and the other half actually doing my job as researcher. I really didn’t have to work but it gave me something to fill up my days. Before Amarantha I spent most of my time helping Cassian manage the Illyrians, from the background of course. Being the High Lords sister did not save me from their views on females. So I only showed up when necessary, Azriel and Cassian always following behind me. They learned fast enough to keep their tongues in check if they wanted to keep them in their mouths. 

Currently I was looking at old maps of Prythian. Combining through records for landscapes and t river patterns. Where the boundaries have shifted over time. And then came the daunting task of trying to pick out recountings of the old war. Figuring out who does best with what court. Prepping for the outcome we were all dreading, another war with Hybern. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from these books.” Cassian said, absently flipping through the large leather bound book I had just placed to the side. 

“Anything. Weakness, strengths, strategies, gods, anything.” I said leaning back. I knew I had to take a break, when I closed my eyes I could still see the words swirling in the blackness behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and went to look at the giant map I had covered my desk with. Pins and markers to recount every movement during the last war. 

“Do you really think that it’s going to help?” I know he wasn’t trying to be rude. His voice was soft when he asked and my shoulders sunk in slightly. 

“I don’t know. But if it does…” He nodded in understanding. Azriel knocked lightly on the door, making both Cas and I jump. He had learned to knock now after he had to dodge out of the way of the book I had launched at him last week. I still haven't reaccustomed myself to how quiet his footsteps could be. A skill I had once prided myself on, I had even been able to pick up on those silent footsteps and find him before he wanted to be seen. 

“Just wanted to remind you two to eat.” He looked at the books strewn across the table, taking note of the one Cassian was still flipping through, playing with truly. “I know how you can get when you’re focused. Time for food.” He smiled at the shy look I gave him from being called out. Many times he had to drag me out of my office when I really got into something. His smile made me think he was remembering those times too. 

“If we go, will you two stop making eyes at each other?” Cassian spoke up, making me break away from Azriel’s stare. 

“We were not.” I responded, trying to tame the blush in my cheeks. Get it together. I told myself as I forced myself to turn to Cas. His eye roll was the only answer I got. Azriel had already started walking down the hall and I slapped Cassian on the arm.

“You’re so annoying sometimes Cas.”

“And you love me for it.” He gave me a loud, wet peck on the cheek and gave a full head-thrown-back laugh when I made a big show of wiping it off. 

I didn't return to the other house that night. Opting to stay with my friends. One of whom, Cassian, had gone into the wine cellar and returned with his arms almost full of the expensive bottles. I just laughed as he shot me a wink. I blew him a kiss back as I settled down on the couch besides Mor. 

We didn’t bother getting glasses, passing the bottles around while we talked about absolutely nothing, acting like we had during our teenage years. It was later in the night before Rhys appeared in the living room. He took one look at all of us and rolled his eyes before he swiped the bottle out of my hand and brought it to his lips. 

Mor and I were fully supporting each other's weight on the couch, I couldn’t tell who was leaning against who more but our giggles started to get louder and more frequent. She whispered to me so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “Stop staring at him.” And we fell into another fit of giggles.

She was right though, everytime Azriel talked I could feel how my eyes stayed locked on him. Reminding myself to breathe when he pulled the bottle to his lips. I pushed off of Mor and went to stand up, wobbling slightly as my feet touched the ground. Azriel made a move like he was going to catch me if I took a face first dive on the carpet but when I steadied myself, he moved back. It happened so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

“I think it’s bedtime.” I said, mouth feeling mushy as the words came out. Mor laughed again and I turned to face her and gave her a rude gesture. I offered that same hand to pull her up to her feet and she pouted before taking it. Everyone seemed to get the hint that it was late so all of us in our various drunken states started the climb up the stairs to our rooms. Good nights thrown through the hallways, Cassian all but screaming it to make sure Mor and I heard him. The sound made us flinch before laughing again as I closed the door to my room. 

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

Before I knew it Feyre’s week was officially up. She had demanded to be brought back home and I fought down the biting comments I wanted to make as Rhys agreed. I stepped besides the pair and she looked over to me for a brief second before pretending that neither of us existed. 

“You don’t have to come with me. Rhys spoke into my mind and replied with a shake of my head. I could do this for Feyre. Despite every part of my body screaming at me for bringing her back to the Spring court, if she could be brave then so could I. He sighed at my stubbornness but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

We weren’t going far. Simply dropping her at the border of spring and summer and making sure she got into the manor. I could manage that. Yet as we were getting ready to winnow in, I felt my hands go clammy. I remember me saying I’ll never go back there willingly.

The smell was the first thing that hit me. The overwhelming floral scent. I could smell the roses from the outside of the manor this far away, their sheer number coating the air with a smell that threatened to suffocate me on the spot. 

“Goodbye, Feyre.” She had already started walking before he finished speaking, not sparing so much as a glance back to us. So we stood and watched her retreating figure until those wooden doors closed behind her. That was that. 

We didn’t return to Hewn city, instead winnowing outside the townhome. 

Rhys didn’t stay to greet our friends. Instead, he all but ran up the stairs to either go to his study or his room. Everyone gave me a tentative look before I shrugged and sprawled out on the couch besides Azriel. 

He didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, he lifted his hands from their spot on his lap. His way of telling me I could place my legs up so I didn’t have to sit awkwardly to avoid his wings. I did and I ignored how happy that little gesture made me. Over the last few weeks he seemed to be able to handle being around me again.

Cassian started rapid firing questions at me. What is she like? She threw what at Rhys? Anything for scraps of what their brother's mate was actually like. Sure they had gotten the story of her trials but this was different, getting to know who she actually was. Cassian seemed pleased to know she was still just as head strong. “Maybe someone will finally humble him a little.” He chuckled 

 Rhys spoke up as he entered the room. “Who’s humbling who?” He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. The only sign of how upset sending Feyre back had made him. 

Cassian didn’t answer but instead asked “Did she really throw a shoe at you?” He laughed when Rhys shot me a dirty look. Answering the question for him. “I want to meet her.” Cassian said and I swore he was almost pouting. 

Rhys sighed, “And have you scare her off.” Cassian looked hurt so Rhys added, “Let her get more adjusted to me before we add all of this into the mix. Besides, she cannot see Velaris. Not when…” not when she came back to Tamlin. Not when she could still spill every little secret of ours to one of our biggest enemies. 

Cas looked like he wanted to argue but only said “Princess gets to see her.” 

“Because I have a winning personality.” I smiled at him and he launched one of the small pillows from his chair at me. I managed to deflect it but as it bounced off my arm it hit Azriel square in the face. I bit down my laughter at his faux outraged face. He threw it back and before I knew it, they were yelling at each other, well Cas was yelling and Azriel was trying his hardest not to laugh.Sensing a fight was emanate, I pushed off of Azriel and spoke loudly over the two Illyrian males. 

“Outside if you’re going to fight.” Even Armen, who had stalked into the room around as Rhys laughed at that. 

Cassian turned to me, his temper still flaring. “We’re not dogs.” 

“Last time you both fought in the house, I was cleaning up glass for a week.” I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say otherwise. 

Azriel spared Cassian from having to respond. “C’mon.” He said, pulling Cassian to what I could only assume was the training ring. 

“I forgot how much you look like Rhys when you get bossy.” Cassian said as he was pulled from the room. And my responding gesture made the rest of the room go up in laughs. Rhys followed them out. Probably needing to get rid of his own tension and Armen had snuck back into the research room. 

I didn’t have it in me to just stare at maps all day long, regardless of knowing how much I needed to. So I just stayed in the living room, a random book from the shelf pulled onto my lap. 

Rhys came back first, hair only slightly disheveled, wings out proudly. “Once I get out of the bath, it’s time for your training.” I huffed and he could sense I was about to argue with him. “Cassian and Azriel told me you can’t use your powers.” Traitors. “So we’re going to figure out what the hel is wrong.” 

Less than an hour later I was sitting in Rhys’ study. A small candle flickering in front of me, taunting me to snuff it out. I pulled and pulled for any of the small dark tendrils to do so but found nothing. Sweat was beginning to form on my brow with how hard I was concentrating. 

Rhys huffed in frustration at my lack of progress. “It was easier teaching Feyre to read.” 

“Then by all means, go back to that. I’d love to see her throw another shoe at you.” I bit back at him and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Try again.” He went right back to business, ignoring my statement. I really did try. I Have been trying. That rich darkness that normally lingered under my skin seemed like it was hidden behind a wall. Just out of my grasp, so close I could almost taste it, almost touch it. I yelped as I reached out towards it. Pain flickering through my body as if it had burned me. Rhys’ hand on my shoulder snapped me out of whatever had happened. Sweat broke across my skin and I flinched as I felt my magic fight against the wall inside my head. 

“What’s happening?” I spoke to my brother. He just stared at me before I felt a phantom knock at my mental shields. I forced them open and almost screamed at the pain that flooded through me. I knew the moment he found it. Felt that sickening thread of magic that never released when the spell broke for the other high lords. Rhys’ presence in my head retreated and we could only look at each other. No words to be found between us. 

“Fuck.” The first word he uttered and I somehow found it in myself to laugh. 

“That bad?” 

“Good news is there’s not a physical block. No magic stopping you.” So why did he still look like death froze over? “Bad news, you’re the block.” 

“Go on?” 

“I don’t fully know but it looks like your magic is being tied up by your own magic.” 

“So, you’re saying. I’m the problem?”

“I’ve been saying that your whole life but yes, especially in this case.” He teased, trying to lighten the new tension in the air. I bite 

“Well then that simply means you’re going to be stuck with me a lot more. That or I go to Helion.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of the other high lord, one who has been trying for the last few centuries to get me into his bed. 

“Maybe.” shit. It must be serious if he’s actually willing to let Helion help. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” He says solemnly and points back to the candle. I stare at him for a moment before sighing and trying to cover the light again. 

We sit as I try again and again and again. Nothing besides a small puff of black smoke to let us know that I’m even trying. Right as I’m about to say something I see Rhys flinch and his eyes flare with anger. Only not at me, his eyes look far away as that anger homes in on whatever must have made his shoulders tense. 

I see his eyes come back into focus and I don’t even have to ask before he’s spilling. “He hurt her.” I don’t need him to say who. “I can tell it’s nothing serious but I got nothing but pure fear from her.” Rhys had already explained that the bargain amplified the usual effects of the mating bond. That he could sometimes get whiffs of any strong emotion from Feyre. Fear, anger, mostly fear but as her nightmares have started to fade I haven't heard much about it. My stomach curls and I try to will my hands to not shake as my mind drifts to the endless possibilities of what could have happened. 

“It’ll be okay. She’s strong.” The words felt wrong in my mouth and Rhys said the very thing I had been thinking.

“You were strong.” 

“Well you can’t very well march in there and get her.” I saw the look on his face. “You can’t, we can’t. And she still doesn’t want us. Unless it feels like that first time…” He shook his head. So not as bad. Still bad, still awful enough for her to send fear down the bond but not bad enough that Rhys could only hear her screaming for someone to get her out of there. So we both let it go, ignored the thoughts that told every part of us to go help this girl from whatever Tamlin was inflicting. But even I knew that Tamlin’s anger comes from his love. That anger so wrapped in fear that something will happen that he almost wills those incidents into existence. 

We spend hours trying to break whatever block is in my head until I’m grumpy and all but biting his head off at every little comment he makes. He bites right back at me and I know there's no point in this anymore, both of us too on edge to do anything productive. Throwing his hands up in surrender he doesn’t stop me as I storm out of his study. I run head first into Azriel on my way to my room, his hands resting on my arms so I don’t topple over. 

“Training went that well.” He says with a small chuckle. The noise sends a low growl from my throat and he takes his hands off of me. “We’ll figure this out.” He says and I continue my path to my room, not staying long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

I was still grumpy by the time that dinner rolled around but I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head is pounding from the strain and whatever Rhys did inside my mind. I throw on the first thing I find, still in my thin nightgown I pulled on after my bath, and head down to dinner. I don’t say much and not even Cassian tries to cheer me up, all he does is remind me that I’m joining them for training in the morning. I don’t respond with anything other than stabbing the chicken on my plate with extra force. 

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I struck the center of the dummy and looked over for Cassian for any semblance of approval. He gave me a bored look and I stomped over to the stupid thing and pulled all three of the daggers out of it. Cas wanted me to get back up to snuff with long range before he put a sword in my hand again. I had never needed the sword that I kept strapped to my back on the missions I would accompany Azriel on, always having my powers to stop anyone from getting that close in the first place. Between Azriel shadows and my blanket of darkness, very rarely did we ever need anything more than truth teller. 

I grunted in frustration as the sharp metal flew through my fingers time after time, all of them hitting the center of the target. 

“Fuck this Cas, I did the warm ups, I did the exercises. Let me fight.” I needed to do something more than this. If I couldn’t use my powers, if they never came back, I needed to be useful. In no world would I just sit around and let my friends risk death while I sat around playing with my maps. Cassian must have heard the desperation in my voice because he agreed. 

We circled each other and I got a rare glimpse of Cassian with no restraint. This was the war general that scared people just by being on the battlefield. I tried not to let the frision of fear show as he surveyed every inch of me, seemingly reading my body language like I was screaming my next moves at him. I didn’t stand a chance. His fist made contact with my nose before I could turn out of the way and I fell to the ground. My hand went up and when I pulled it back, my fingers were sticky with my blood. Cassian was instantly in front of me, mumbling out apologies. I held up my hand to stop him from talking. 

“Cassian.” A stern voice called out as I ran my hand along my nose again, feeling for any breaks. “What did you do to her?” Azriel’s voice was full of concern as he knelt besides Cassian. 

“Alright bat brains. I’m not dying,” I started to stand up and they both reached out their hands to help me up, I swatted them away and brushed off the dust on my pants. “It’s not the first time I’ve been too slow before, and it’s not going to be the last.” They both stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I still have to beat you Cas.” He shook his head laughing and Azriel shot him a glare. 

Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, and never one to miss an opportunity to piss off Azriel, agreed to go back into the ring with me. He coached me through it this time, slowing down his punches to explain how to predict them and block them. All things that I knew but just needed more practice. By the end of the hour I was covered in sweat but I was able to block him without his guidance. Azriel didn’t leave either, hanging back to watch, adding his own little tips and tricks to help me get some advantage over Cassian but I still couldn’t get him to budge an inch. 

“Do you want to get in with her then?” Cassian shouted to Azriel as he continued to assist me from the side lines. I made a motion for Cassian to stop as I tried to catch my breath. Placing my hands on my knees and sucking in screaming breaths. 

“I think I’m done.” I panted out.

“If you wanted me to make you breathless princess, all you had to do was ask.” He winked and tossed a canteen full of water over to me. I drank half of it in one long gulp and forced myself to stand up straight. My muscles were already crying out in protest. Tomorrow was going to suck for sure. 

The three of us walked back up to the house, laughing and joking and I felt proud of the progress I was making. Even if the dried blood still on my hands might have suggested otherwise. 

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A month went by so fast, I had to tick off the days to make sure I was right.I woke up to Rhys preparing to collect Feyre from the spring court again. Rhys didn’t ask me to go with him this time, after that last flood of emotions he knew he would have a hard time containing himself let alone both of us. 

I was already waiting at the house for when they got back, ready to play mediator if need be. They had barely materialized before my brother was fussing over Feyre. The two bickered back and forth but from the way she looked over herself, I knew even she could hear the worry in his voice. She had lost more weight since the last time she had been here. The shadows under her eyes creeped back onto her pale skin. “Eat breakfast with me.” He said and I shifted from my place in the living room. Mor was somewhere in the house after her visit to the Court of Nightmares yesterday. Probably still decompressing with the bottle of wine she took with her to bed. 

I gave Feyre a small smile and she didn’t return it, but she didn’t glare at me either. It’s a step at least. The female in front of me gave a heavy sigh after weighing Rhys offer. The growl I heard come from her stomach seemed to make the decision for her. I didn’t follow them, if she had wanted me to I would have been able to tell. So I stayed close enough that I could swoop in and save her from my brother's overprotectiveness if need be. The glimpses of their conversation I caught weren’t the best but I stilled completely as I caught, 

“I was tortured, beaten and fucked until only I could tell myself who I was, what I was protecting. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.” My heart ached at the words. He had had it so much worse than I did, regardless of what people might believe. I could see it on his face during some of his bad days, the scars of what Amarantha did to him. I didn’t listen to her response as I walked to my room. 

I found Feyre the next day as I had the last time, hunched over the table with more lines from Rhys to read. She was copying them in better handwriting than she had before. When I approached she didn’t so much as look up at me. I called her name gently and still nothing. So I took that as my sign to let her be. Rhys had gotten called to the war camps later that day. 

“Just look after her please. I know she’s fine but let me know if either of you need anything.” He blabbered as I all but pushed him out the door. 

“We’ll be fine, you overprotective mother hen.” His face fell slightly and I couldn’t stand that look on his face. “I’ll let you know if she needs anything, okay? Now go be a High Lord.” I saw a hint of a smile as he winnowed out of the house. 

I tried to stay out of her way. Whatever bit of goodwill she had allowed me last time seemingly disappeared. So I kept bringing her books when she ran out of the ones Rhys had given her, brought her food and left her to her own devices. Today, she didn’t give me a glare as I sat down in the armchair on her left. I opened my own book without giving her a second glance. The small hmph she made was the only indication she had even noticed my presence. She didn’t want to talk and quite frankly, neither did I, perfectly content with getting lost in our own books. 

It was around midday and the sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of the library when I felt Rhys appear in the room. In his hands were trays of food which he presented to Feyre. A small thank you left her lips and I wanted to smack that smug look on Rhys face as he teased her. But then I saw his face get serious and I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding on a private moment. “Tell me how I can help you.” His voice was scratchy and I knew he was trying to hold back tears, to keep the conversation casual enough that she wouldn’t shut him out again. I truly did try to tune them out but these were the same things I had been wanting to say to her all week but couldn’t find the strength. 

“If you fall apart then the bitch wins. All of that is for nothing and she wins.” Rhys said plainly and Feyre flinched before going back to her book. I could tell that she was talking to him in her mind. My eyes grew wide when I saw that slight layer of frost cover the book cover. Rhys barely had time to dodge said book as it was thrown right at his head. It bounced harmlessly to the floor and I stifled a laugh. The laugh died in my throat when I saw the flicker of flames in her palms and I tried to reach my mind out to Rhys, he all but threw me out. 

Feyre and Rhys left later that day. I didn’t offer to come with, didn’t want to come with. Just like last time when Rhys returned to Velaris, he stalked to his office and hid out for the rest of the evening. I only got close enough to the door to leave a plate of food outside before retreating back to my side of the house. His emotions pouring through the door were enough to give me a headache, the way it felt like I was walking into a brick wall. I didn’t try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead choosing to pull my attention back to the map in my study. 

I had been neglecting it to focus on Feyre and Rhys but I knew it’s just because I wasn’t getting anywhere. No matter how many books I read, I couldn’t think of anything that would help us win this war. Not without all seven courts working together and I knew Hel would freeze over before that ever happened. 

So I read until my eyes became blurry and heavy. My head had gotten so heavy like the words were getting stuck and wouldn’t leave. When I felt my eyes starting to close and knocking on the door jostled me awake. I saw the shadows before I saw him, too tired to notice that they had time to take in my current state and report back to Az. 

“You should take a break.” He said as he went to pull up a chair at the table I was sitting at. 

“I can’t take a break when I haven’t found anything yet.” I whined at him. “I’m supposed to be good at this, I am good at this. Or at least I was.” I slumped in my chair and I saw that familiar look of concern flash through his warm amber eyes. He sat there, I could almost see the gears in his brain turning, his shadows starting to swirl around the floor like soothing waves. I stared at them and felt my mind calm slightly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wings flapping behind him. 

We just sat there in silence for a few moments and then he stood up suddenly. My eyes tracked the movement, following his arm as he extended a hand to me. It was like my brain short circuited at the gesture. He had to clear his throat before I snapped out of it and I timidly placed my hand in his. He led me out of my office and I felt his shadows on my heels. “Where are we going?” I laughed at how ridiculous this must look, one of the fiercest Illyrian warriors towing someone behind him like an excited kid. 

“Just be quiet. You’ll know when we get there.” His own voice full of an almost giddy excitement. So I let him pull me along. All the way outside until it clicked. There was a little patch of grass beside the Sidra that I loved to sit by when the weather was just starting to turn warm. Our little group used to spend free days out on that field, just soaking in the warmth. He gave me a proud smirk when we finally reached that stretch of grass. “Now, you’re going to sit and just enjoy being out here.”

“Is that an order?” I teased and he didn’t miss a beat. 

“If that means you’ll actually do it, then yes.” I sat and looked out over the river. The lights and sounds of the city walk could just trickle in, becoming a lovely hum in the back of my mind. I patted the spot next to me and Azriel sat beside me. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Just looking at the city I loved so much. We didn’t talk, Azriel was always good for that. He knew when I needed the quiet. The sound of the small waves helped clear my head and after a while I felt my shoulders sink down, the tension lightening. It was still there of course but became more manageable as I could smell the water and Azriel’s pine and fresh air scent. It wrapped its way around me and held me like my favorite blanket. 

“Thank you.” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. We didn’t look at each other, still staring out at the city just ahead. 

“Of course. Anything for you,” He cleared his throat, “For one of my friends.” I bit down the string at that little word. I fought the urge to put some distance between us at the feeling that flooded me. The cruel reminder of just exactly how he saw me. So I just pulled my legs in tighter and ignored all the thoughts of him that began to take over. 

We didn’t head back to the house until sundown. The pair of us walked under the flickering faelights that lined the streets. It still blows my mind how much the city changed while I was gone. I told him that much. And he shrugged off the tiny complement. 

“Rhys and I will never be able to thank you enough for how much you all did while we were…gone.” My voice felt tight as I finished, “You kept our home safe when we couldn’t.” He turned to look at me and went to say something but stopped himself. His face looked slightly pained, in that concerned way he always managed. He shook his head slightly. 

“You did more than we ever could. You and Rhys gave us a chance to have something to protect in the first place.” In his words, I was pulled back to that night when it had all gone to shit. How Cassian and Azriel were out dealing with the camps and how I couldn’t convince Rhys not to go so I insisted that I come along. I had to beg him to let me come with him and he still wasn’t happy about it. We walked right into a trap and before most of his power had been ripped away from him he wiped the memory of Velaris from everyone who was under the mountain and let our friends know what was happening, how they couldn’t come after us without leaving Velaris unguarded. 

Azriel’s small nudge to my shoulder pulled me back to the present and his eyes asked the question before he needed to. 

“I’m okay.” But I felt how my arms had wrapped around myself but he didn’t say anything about it, letting me have my space. We reached the house again and I could hear Cassian and Mor’s voices floating down the hallway. The sound alone plastered a smile on my face. Azriel followed behind me as I rounded the corner and Cassian all but cheered when he saw me. “There you are princess, we went to pull you out of your study but it seems someone beat us to it.” He gave me a small wink and I laughed at the joke behind it. I shook my head as I sat down next to Mor who was already pouring me a glass of wine. 

Rhys spoke to me across the table, “I peaked in and saw the map, tomorrow if you’re up for it I want all of us to go over it.” I nodded and he smiled at me. And we all ate and joked and I left the love I felt for the people in the room washed over me like the waves in the Sidra. 

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

“So if it comes down to war. Who do we have?” Rhys turned to Cassian and myself. We were all sitting around the map I had been working on, face grim as I explained the various markings. 

“The Illyrians don’t have a choice. The court of nightmares should. We kept up pretty well with Dawn and Day. Winter…” His voice trailed off. I still remember Kallias’ face as the news broke of the attack on Winter. The thousands of babes dead by Amarantha’s hand. The pure loathing his face held as he looked at Rhys. 

“I can talk to them.” I had always liked Kallias. And from the little bit I’ve heard since our return home, he finally married Viviane after being friends since childhood. Viviane was sweet and her, Mor and I had been known to get ourselves in trouble when together. If she would listen, Winter would come around. 

“Autumn and Spring are lost causes.” Cassian sighed beside me, slumping down in his chair. 

“Tamlin is delusional enough to think it would keep him safe.” And keep Feyre safe. But I didn’t say that outloud. “Beron is…well Beron. Unless we think we can pursue one of the brothers to take him out of the equation, I think it’s better to not plan for them.” 

“Summer?” Rhys asked pointedly ignoring Cas’ words on the other seasonal courts. 

“Tarquin is new and young. He’ll side with the majority. But I think I could talk to him and at least see where his loyalties lie.” I had only talked to the new high lord a few times during our time under the mountain. He seemed nice enough, one of the few people who was even willing to talk to me at all. No fear of the role I had been forced into and hoped he would side with us. Hoped his newness wouldn’t scare him into the easy choice.” 

“I don’t like the idea of having two courts fighting against us.” Azriel finally spoke up. I had almost forgotten he was in the room but his shadow currently sitting at my feet should have been reminder enough. “Hybern has the armies he needs and if he has the cauldron….” 

“So what do you suggest?” My brother asked, head in his hands. 

“We talk to them. Let them know that we won’t win this if we’re not unified. Remind them that we fought a war once to avoid this very thing and some courts were on the wrong side of history then and would be now.” I spoke plainly, it was the only answer. If it had been anyone else the idea would have been shot down. But Rhys just let out a heavy breath and nodded. 

“We’ll wait until we’re sure. Some courts will refuse to believe there will be a war until it’s staring them in the face.” The tone in Rhys’ voice letting us know this meeting was over. We all stayed in the room, the same exhausted look sat on our faces. “Good work.” Rhys said to me as he studied the map again. “You got all of this from books?” I had been too young to remember most of the war, let alone fight in it. But at least someone had thought it smart to recount all of it in very exact detail, I just managed to translate to current day Prythian. Rhys was silently nodding to himself as he really studied the map. The others slowly filter out of the room, leaving Rhys and I alone studying the map. 

“And these?” He pointed to the orange marks I had drawn all over. 

“Trade agreement routes, the thicker the line, the more movement there is through that path. They would be the most vulnerable areas since people know them so well. They’re also normally the quickest way between courts.” I pointed out more of the lines and pins. I had so much marked off, down to what ways the rivers flowed and where their currents changed. Rhys just drank in all the information I threw at him, only nodding along to the explanations. I was about to start on another part of the map before I saw his face freeze. 

Rhys had completely stilled besides me. That all-too-familiar far-away look on his. When I raised my eyebrow at him, “What is it? Is it…” He didn’t wait for me to finish, instead he let me into his mind and I almost flinched at whatever feeling Feyre was sending him. The crushing agony and pure terror. It was a feeling I knew all too well. These weren't the few stray glimpses Feyre had sent him while they were separated. This was the very thing all of us were holding our breath for, hoping it never happened. 

“Rhys we can’t just ignore it this time.” I spoke, already leaving the table. His hand wrapped around my wrist, making me pause. 

“If you storm in there, Tamlin has every right to declare a war.” 

“And we’ll have every right to kill his sorry ass. Something that we could have done decades ago.” I spit back at my brother. 

“Please.” His voice shook with fear. Scared for Feyre and maybe for me. I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn’t argue against the tone in his voice. 

“So how do you want to do this then?” I asked him and we started planning. 

In less than 10 minutes Mor had winnowed right on the border of spring and summer. Rhys had insisted that she come along to help. Her status would help blanket us from any repercussions. Plus her powers would come in handy if any of the guards found us. So her and I snuck into that manor I had sworn I would never see again. Do it for Feyre. Be brave for her. I said to myself as my own terror rose to a fever pitch. 

I could see the darkness already pouring out of the house. My anger quickly turned into fear. What did he do to her? The voice in my head screamed. Rhys had already broken the wards and whatever was locking her inside the house. Mor knocked out the guards before they could spot us. When we finally entered the house my blood ran cold. Sitting in a ball of inky darkness was Feyre. Her screams pierced something deep inside of me. I looked around and locked eyes with Alis. Her eyes wide as she took in my face. 

“He locked her in the house. I tried to…Please just keep her safe.” Was all the older fae had said to me. 

My heart warmed at the concern in her voice. The same concern she had once shown me. I nodded and walked towards Feyre. Whatever darkness she was wielding seemed to only be for her and as I shook her shoulder, gently saying her name they retreated slightly. I looked over to Mor who only gave me a small nod. Taking her cue, I picked up the shaking female and was startled by how light she felt. Mor spoke up from beside me. “Your guards are going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up.” 

Alis nodded in understanding and I added. “Don’t tell him where we took her. Please.” And for a second I felt just as broken as the female in my arms. I knew she would tell him, and would have to tell him but a small part of me wished she wouldn’t. But that was unfair to expect of her. It reminded me too much of the same hope I had when I left. Face sunken in and heart broken as I begged her to not tell Tamlin I was leaving. No one was there to help me and I’ll be damned if Feyre ever felt that pain. I didn’t say another word as Mor winnowed us right in front of the border. It felt like I could finally breathe again as the scent shifted to ripe fruit and salt water that marked us as safe. Marked us in summer. Feyre shifted in my arms and mumbled something softly. 

Mor soothed a hand through her hair. “You’re free.” 

Rhys quickly scoped Feyre from my arms without so much as a word. He looked at Mor and I 

“We did everything by the book.” Rhys nodded before I felt the air whoosh around my ears and I knew we had made it home. Rhys deftly climbed the stairs to take Feyre to her room and I just stood staring at my brother back. I blocked out the memories that began to rise to the surface. The scar on my arm prickled and when my other hand raised to scratch at the angry white lines that trailed down my forearm, Mors hand wrapped against mine. Grounding me in the present. 

“She’s free.” She repeated to me. 

“Thank the mother.” I responded as I started to climb the stairs suddenly bone tired. 

Feyre didn’t emerge from her room that night or the next morning. More than once I found myself standing outside her door, hand held up to knock but some part of my brain told me not to. Rhys hasn't left her side the whole time she was asleep. Whatever magic she had used in the house had exhausted her and I felt my heart pang for her. How alone she must have felt, how scared she must have been to be locked in that house. I remember my simple panic the first time I went to the basement of the townhouse. How it transported me back to under the mountain, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to be locked away again.  

When I finally did see her, she seemed to have gotten a little color back. Enough so that she was able to argue with Rhys again. I didn’t linger this time to hear the fight, letting them duke it out in private. But as Rhys turned the corner, I knew something that happened. Something important. 

”We’re going home.” 

If someone had told me two months ago that Feyre would be standing in the living room of our home in Velaris I would have probably keeled over laughing. But here we were, Feyre’s eyes flickering from spot to spot in the house. I couldn’t get a read on her face but before I could even process that, I heard a pounding on the door. Cassian’s voice filtering through the wood, already complaining. Rhys shot me a look that said deal with them please. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was waiting for Feyre’s reaction to her surroundings. A hint of anything to gauge how she was feeling. He needed her to like this place like he needed to breathe. So I excused myself from the room and slipped out the front door. 

”Are you serious Cas?”

”I want to meet her. She’s right there, my brothers m-” I cut him off, blocking both him and Azriel from trying to peek into the house. They could easily push right past me but stayed a healthy distance. 

”Do not finish that sentence. Do you want all of Velaris to know?” I whispered screamed at him and he rolled his eyes.

”I promise you drama queen, no one’s up this early. I don’t want to be up this early.” 

After a few minutes of us bickering back and forth, Rhys opened the door and said to us, “Are you all just going to stand there?” 

Cassian all but trampled me trying to get in the house. I laughed when I saw his crestfallen face as he noticed Feyre was no longer in the room. “She was here right?” He spoke to the room. 

”Maybe she’s scared of your good looks Cas, can’t have her falling in love with the wrong Illyrian bastard now can we?” I shot Rhys a wink and he growled lightly. 

”She’ll meet you when she’s ready.” Was all he said before he rangled all of us into the dining room. 

Feyre slept for the rest of the morning. She came down the stairs dressed in Night Court clothes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The way they seemed to compliment her well enough and I had to bite my tongue to prevent me from pointing that out. Rhys met her at the door and shot me a vulgar gesture at my sugary sweet, “Be safe kids.” That I called out from my spot on the couch. I sat on the couch until the sun started to set. I had just got to the good part and debated even going to the dinner at all but I was dying to see how Feyre would handle our crazy family. If she had any chance at surviving here, she needed to like them or they would drive her crazy. Although from Cassian’s earlier words that might be the case either way. So I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, pulling on the first thing that I saw and winnowed with Mor to the front steps of the house. 

Azriel and Cassian were waiting to fly us up. Cassian wrapped his arm around Mor’s waist and Azriel did the same to me. I hardly felt my feet leave the ground before he was already placing me down in front of the door. I had not had the heart to come here since I’ve been home. Too many memories for me to want to come alone and Mor grabbed my hand as she pulled me through the threshold. We had just settled in before I heard the faint trails of Rhys and Feyre voices outside the door. I couldn’t stop the two males from bounding to the door, they flung it open to reveal a very annoyed looking Rhys. I held my breath as she stood in the doorway, eyes searching for something and she landed on me. She squared her shoulders but Cassian was already speaking.

”I promise we won't bite.” 

Last I heard, Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” And I laughed as Feyre’s face blanched. I didn’t miss the way the female's eyes raked over the Illyrians as they stepped into the light. I tried not the bristle as her eyes lingered on Azriel just a fraction longer than I would have liked. Rhys introduced the two and it was Feyres response to one of his questions that made me feel a frision of pride. 

”How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” She would fit right in and Cassian’s booming laugh told me that very same thing. Armen had appeared almost out of thin air as we all made our way to the table. 

Feyre was slowly filled in about how the three brothers had met. Her eyes flickered to me during the story. 

”Where do you fit into all of this, besides being his sister.” She quickly added. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer. 

”I mean there's not much else to it besides that. He got stuck with them so I did too. I nearly knocked Cassian's teeth in the first time I met him and I’ve been stuck with them ever since.” I stuck my tongue out at Cassian who rolled his eyes. 

”You mean you broke your fist trying to, princess. I had to nurse you back to health and you were helpless but to fall for my charm.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes and I fought the urge to throw my bread across the table at him. If it wasn't for Feyre I would have. The rest of the stories and tales flowed out and, much to Feyre’s credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest. She interjected at the perfect moments, making jokes that had everyone roaring with laughter. Then the tables were turned onto her and Cassian was asking her about her life. After she had finished she turned to Rhys.

’I accept your offer- to work with you.” And I wanted to scream and cheer. I felt no such joy from Rhys as he started.

”Good because we start tomorrow. Hybern is starting this war and he’s going to bring back Jurian to help him.” I felt a shiver run down my back. Rhys had neglected to tell me that part. In an instant the lighthearted conversation was thrown to the side and Cassian launched into full general mode.

 I tried my best to keep up with this new bit of information, how it would throw a wrench into any attempts of a plan. I missed the conversation that followed, mind already trying to figure out the adjustments I would need to make to the map in my office. Armen managed to snap me out of my thinking. 

”The Bone Carver might indeed be willing to talk to her.” She pointed a finger at Feyre and I went to argue against the ancient female. Rhy had beaten me to it. 

”Your choice, always your choice, Feyre.” and I tried to keep the fear off my face as she answered. 

”How bad could it be.” Cassians’ answer had her face pale as a ghost and it was clear dinner was over at that moment. The others reduced to arguing over the semantics and who would be doing what in preparation for their journey to the prison. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy at the sounds of their voices. Azriel’s gentle hand on my shoulder was the sign that the arguing had stopped at all. I didn’t need to be asked a second time and as he flew me back down to the ground below Velaris, I wondered if all of us would make it through the war a second time.

Next Chapter: Here

Taglist: @durgenyx @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx

[ariasakka]

Flames of Fate

Chapter 2🐦‍🔥

Mdni, 18+, smut with plot

Your Fuyumi’s new work best friend

Things with you and Fuyumi had went on as normal. You had surprisingly been able to keep this secret from her quite well. It definitely helped that it all felt like a dream to you. You haven’t hung out with her since that day yet. At first you were making up excuses being too nervous to look her dad in the eyes with a straight face in-front of her. Now you’re too busy working overtime because your apartment complex decided to up your rent.

One day Enji picked Fuyumi up from work. Their plan was to go shopping after as some father daughter bonding. When you caught a glimpse of him walking through the window more than just your heart as pulsing. You quickly brushed your hair with your fingers hoping to look at least decent when seeing him.

You “Your dads here?”

Fuyumi “Oh yeah! We’re going to do some father daughter bonding. It’s just grocery and clothes shopping. Nothing too interesting but I knew he probably wouldn’t be up for more.”

Enji “Hello nice to see you again y/n. Glad to see you girls working hard. Are you ready to go Fuyumi?”

Fuyumi “Yeah let me get my bag. Bye y/n! We need to hang out soon!”

You “Nice seeing you again Mister Todoroki. Have fun! Yeah I’ll text you when work stops giving me overtime!”

Enji acted so casual around you. Too casual. So proper and intimidating, not mean just the usual face he normally has. It was causing you to question if maybe it really was all just a dream? The only thing convincing you that it wasn’t was that you still had his number in your phone. You were trying your best not to make eye contact with him in fear Fuyumi would notice something was up. You settled for looking at where your eye level was, at his chest. Although when you did you could hardly call it settling. He was always so dashing outside of his uniform. You’d never seen a man so fit for his age. You nearly felt like you were watering at the mouth. And maybe some other places too. You wished that night he wasn’t behind you so you could have admired his body. Though maybe that would make you too nervous. Looking the pro hero in the eye while he was destroying you seemed far too intimidating.

Enji was good at not letting people in, not letting people see how he truly felt. He could’ve easily saw Fuyumi at home and went from there but he wanted to catch a glimpse of you. Maybe get a sense of how you felt. Would you still lock eyes with him the same way you did at his home? Would a conversation with you feel as warm and serene as it did when he was in your apartment? He thought to himself for days “Why isn’t she texting me? Did I not make her finish as well as I thought. Did I come on too strong? Does she think it was a mistake. Was it one? Maybe the new guy she’s talking to really did step up after all, that must be it. Who would want to hook up with a man my age anyways if I didn’t have more to offer. Maybe if she takes that job at my agency…no that’s wrong. Then again if she wants it…”

At last the conversation was normal. He was feeling terribly insecure, he didn’t know why. He has never felt like this before. Not even with Rei. It was hard to gage how you felt. He thought he saw you eyeing his tightly fitted shirt but then again what if that’s just what he wanted to believe. If you really were wouldn’t you have called him by now?

You had dropped the guy you had been talking to almost immediately after your spicy time with Enji. You had tried to have a one night stand with him but instantly you could tell it was not going to satisfy you the same. You gave up and left half way through, blocking his number afterwards. In fact you were beginning to question if anything would be able to satisfy you except Enji or thinking about Enji with your toys. Sadly your toys never seemed to be enough after a while. You craved the real thing. You craved Enji. You needed a real man to treat your body right.

Two weeks after Enji had made you finish you caved and texted him. “Hi” None of the toys feel the same. No audio you can find online has a voice that does anything to you. Not after Enji. You hate it but you NEED him.

Enji texts back almost immediately “Do you always keep men waiting like this?” Oh? Was he wanting you to actually text. You know he gave you his number but you figured if he wanted you so bad he would make the first move. Maybe he’s just teasing. Yeah that’s it.

You text back “Sorry for keeping you waiting Enji. Are you at work?”

Enji “I’m getting off in an hour can I come over?”

You “Yes please.”

Enji “Good. Have you eaten dinner?”

You “Not yet, why?”

Enji “I’m picking food up then. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

He’s buying you dinner? Really? He plans to destroy you and feed you? It’s so oddly romantic. You figured he’d be the type to take what he wants and leave. Not that you’d complain when he’s that hot. He had you pushed so hard against your stomach on the bed you didn’t even get a chance to look at his face you wouldn’t have expected him to be sweet now. You like it regardless.

Enji texts “I’m on my way, I hope you like Udon.”

When Enji walks through the door you had almost forgotten just how sexy he could be. His demeanor is very different when Fuyumi isn’t near. His eyes are far more seductive, his tone more sultry and teasing.

You chuckle “Dinner? Charming. If I wasn’t smart I’d think you were trying to make this a date.”

He’s never really been on a date to be honest. I suppose this might count as one if it were. But you were Fuyumi’s friend. He would not let himself form any romantic feelings for you. He cares for you because you are Fuyumi’s friend that’s all. You haven’t came with a man before and he needs to get release. Seems like a perfect entanglement to him. So long as Fuyumi doesn’t find out. Which he’ll make sure she doesn’t.

Enji “This is a relationship of mutual pleasure but I don’t intend on not treating you like a person outside the bedroom.”

That is true though he thought food was the least he could offer you knowing how much he was going to stretch you tonight. Plus he likes being kind to you. Maybe it’ll make you want to text him sooner next time.

You “That’s sweet, I do appreciate the food. I haven’t gotten the chance to eat yet. Had overtime again.”

Enji teases “Plus you’ll need the energy for what I intend on doing to you anyway.”

The eating is quite wholesome. The two of you eat on your kitchen counter top table. You nearly thought his weight would break one of your two chairs. He teased telling you he’d buy you a new one. He was being completely serious about the offer if he did break it. Most of the time eating is spent by Enji telling you cute stories of Fuyumi as a baby. When the two of you are finished he turns to you and places his mouth at your ear “I sincerely hope you are wearing something you’re alright with me searing off of you.”

You chuckle “Enji but what if I like this shirt-“

He cuts you off “I’ll buy you another outfit. Sound good?”

You “Yes sir.”

Enji “Daddy.”

Oh he’s hot.

You “Yes Daddy.”

That got him riled up he immediately burns every article of clothing off of your body. Despite him clearly being one of the top hero’s you’re still impressed he has enough control to burn your entire outfit without so much as leaving a mark on your skin. He pulls you onto his lap. “Such a beautiful body. I’m going to ravish you.”

He carries you, bringing you to the bed slamming you down to your futon falling on top of you so delicately yet with so much force. He completely engulfs your body. Your beginning you wonder if you’ll be able to take him inside you at all. He seems much larger like this than before when he was behind you. If he wasn’t holding you down right now you’d want to get on your knees and worship his body.

He places a finger over your clit rubbing slowly.

Enji “Mm you’re so wet, over nothing? I’ve barely even begun.”

You “I’m sorry-“

Enji “If you ever apologize for being wet again I’m going to punish you, okay? I love how wet you get for me.”

He pushes your knees up to your chest folding you in half before shoving two of his meaty fingers inside your cunt.

Enji “I see your legs have a hard time spreading far enough to fit comfortably around my frame. This position should be comfortable for you. Don’t worry I’ll make them stretch far enough eventually.”

He pauses for a moment laughing softly to himself before saying “As I will make all of you stretch enough for me eventually.”

“Oh fuck” you wine as he shoves a third finger into you. “So full!”

Enji “Shh, just a few more minutes. I need to make sure you’re able to take me….I think you’re ready now.”

The look on your face each time he thrusts his fingers. The way you instantly got wetter the second he took off his shirt. The way your cheeks get more flushed each time he praises you is admittedly having more of an effect on him than he’d like. In order to make sure he keeps his emotions in check he must make sure he only looks at your body.

Enji “Turn over. Let me put a pillow under you.”

He’s so stern. It makes you feel so obedient. You never thought you’d like this feeling.

Even better your naked body from this position is exactly what he needs after a long day of work. He undoes his pants. Immediately as you feel his length slap onto your behind you let out a soft whimper and fist the sheets. He brings his rough face down to your upper back leaving soft kisses until he reaches your ear. Placing a few kisses to your cheek before saying “It’s okay I’ll go slow there’s no rush.”

You “I want to be able to take it Daddy.”

Enji “There’s no rush.”

He spreads you with his hands then places the tip of his cock inside your hole. The further he goes inside it feels like your pelvic bones are literally winding to accommodate his girth.

You moan into your pillow “S-So fucking f-f-fulll ah. D-daddy! How fucking big are you?!

Enji whispers into your ear “6 inches around, 10 inches long. I’m not even half way in yet sweetheart. You’re doing such a good job for me. Here I have an idea.”

He slowly heats up his cock inside you hoping to soothe your pain. He knew when it was hard for Rei to take him at first that always helped.

Your eyes roll back “That feels really good actually.” He’s finally able to bottom out a few minutes later. You feel like you’re unable to breathe once he’s fully inside you. You swear it feels like he’s up to your throat even though you know he’s no where near there.

Enji “Do you have a vibrator?”

You “Why..if I do..is that bad?”

Enji “No it’s not bad I want to use it on you to make up for the bit of pain you’re about to feel when I start thrusting.”

You “In that case yeah, it’s in the drawer right here.”

Enji “Perfect.”

He places the vibrator directly on your clit instructing you to hold it in place. When he begins to thrust he does so slowly, he’s still wants to be careful not to break you. It feels so intense you can’t help but scream from the sensation.

Enji “You’re pussy is gripping me so nicely sweetheart. Do you enjoy daddy molding you to fit me hm?”

You “Yes daddy. I’ve never felt so full.”

His pace quickens slightly “Whose pussy is this?” *slap to your ass*

You shriek “Oh my god it’s yours, it’s daddy’s!”

Enji “Do you think you could cum like this?”

You “I want to but it’s so big I think I’d break.”

Enji “It won’t break, cunts like yours were made for my dick. Otherwise it wouldn’t feel so good would it?”

You “Enji I-“

Enji “You will cum on my cock.”

He reaches for the vibrator turning it up all the way. You’re so close to finishing. The way you’re pulsing around him is getting him close too. He wants to speed up his pace so badly. Just completely ruin you but he knows you couldn’t take that.

Enji “Sweetheart I- are you on birth control?”

You “Yes I am.”

Enji “Good, I’m about to fill you up!”

You “I’m- oh fuck- yes!”

Enji “That’s it cum with me. Milk daddy. Oh god… that was. Baby you drained me so well.”

He kisses all up and down your back before pulling himself out. “You did so well, how are you feeling?”

You “Honestly…I’m feeling a little sore. Thank you for being gentle though it felt really nice.”

Enji “Do you have any pain meds I’ll bring you some.”

You “Yeah right next to the rice bag.”

He stays in your bed for a while afterwards. He finds it much easier to look you in the eye when you’re fully clothed next to him.

Enji “I would like to do this again y/n”

You “Me too.”

He hands you cash. “Allow me to pay for your birth control I intend on filing you quite a bit”

You “You don’t have to-“

Enji “I insist”

You “I’m not using you for money.”

Enji “Oh just great orgams” he teases

You laugh

Enji “But no seriously I know how expensive those pills can be and I don’t intend on having more children. Please let me”

You “Alright then. Thank you Enj.”

He stays over until you fall asleep. You really hope you’re able to keep a straight face around Fuyumi after this.

Two days later you’re invited over to Fuyumi’s house for a movie night. You still get off late but it’s alright while you’re working she takes the time to prepare snacks and dinner.

You “Hi Fuyumi sorry I’m a few minutes late I missed the first train one of the coworkers would not stop talking to me I swear he’s trying to hit on me.”

Enji immediately turns on his listening ears from the other room when he hears this.

Fuyumi “Oh really? It’s Megumi right. He’s cute! Are you interested?”

You “Um not right now but I mean maybe one day you never know. Right now I’m honestly just trying to focus on work. Oh also I brought my own pajamas this time so no need to worry about lending me some this time!”

Enji thinks to himself. Who is this “Megumi” he would never be able to treat her body as well as me. Nothing will fill her better than I do after last time. She’ll need me.

Fuyumi “Great! It’ll be fun driving with you to work tomorrow. I see, well I was thinking we could watch white chicks?”

Enji from the other room “Pick a more appropriate movie Fuyumi.”

Oh shit her dad’s here. You weren’t expecting him. Focus on keeping a straight face. Focus on keeping a straight face.

Fuyumi drags you into the kitchen where Enji is. Oh no. He’s in sweatpants and a grey tank top. He looks like he just finished a workout, probably did. Damnit. Keep a straight face.

Fuyumi “But daaad it’s her favorite movie. Please?”

Enji “Is it really?”

Well it was actually but now you’re a bit embarrassed to admit that. You have to be on Fuyumi’s side though no matter how nervous you are. No matter how much you want to lie and say it’s something else.

You “Um yeah sorry Mister Todoroki-“

Enji “Very well then.”

Your face was growing redder the longer you were forced to see him in that outfit.

Fuyumi “Thanks dad!” She turns back to you “Oh y/n are you okay? You’re a little red…”

Enji smirks while placing his coffee mug to his lips. You start nervously laughing when you notice. Did he really have to be such a tease?

You “Sorry I just didn’t eat today yet I didn’t have time.”

Fuyumi “Ugh they’re working you too hard I know you need the money but still. Here I made a lot of snacks they’re in the refrigerator let me show you.”

You “Perfect.”

Fuyumi “Alright so I made some cream pudding, some mochi, rice balls, oh and I also made some matcha tea. I started some Sakura tea too for if we finish all the matcha tonight!”

While Fuyumi is still looking at the food he looks you in the eye before lowering his eyes elsewhere. “Cream pudding is always delicious.”

Is he being serious right now? Teasing you so close to his daughter?! You grab the cream pudding “Yeah thanks I’ll take that!”

You both are half way through the movie. Fuyumi is currently stuffing her face with food. She made mustache on her face with matcha unknowingly. It’s been there for 30 minutes you were trying to wait for her to figure it out herself but you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

Fuyumi “What is it?”

You “You have a little..”

Fuyumi “Ugh i thought I broke out of that habit. I’ll wipe my face.”

You slip up and tell Fuyumi “yeah you used to do that when you were a child too, how cute! Green mustache Fuyumi. ”

Oh no..forgetting that it wasn’t Fuyumi that told you that but her dad.

Fuyumi “I never told you that? That was so embarrassing I told myself I’d only let my brothers remember it.”

Luckily you’re quick on your feet.

You “…yeah you did our first month working together.”

She thought it was weird she didn’t remember but you wouldn’t lie.

Fuyumi “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I forgot haha! So embarrassing!!”

Later you go up to the spare room to go to sleep while Fuyumi cleans up.

Enji walks up behind Fuyumi helping her put a few dishes away. “Did you both have fun?”

Fuyumi “Yeah we did dad! I’m glad she got to hang out she’s been overworking herself I swear!”

Enji “Why has she been working more these days?”

Fuyumi “Her rent went up.”

Enji “For that little apartment?”

Fuyumi “Yeah but it’s not like anything is cheaper out here.”

Enji “I see.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Especially not after hearing about that boy at work. He shouldn’t it’s too risky..he can’t help it, after Fuyumi is asleep he comes in and sits down at the edge of the bed. You set down your phone on the nightstand. You’re expecting him to just want sex but suprisingly he has something else to say first.

Enji “You’ve been working overtime a lot. I’d really like you to apply to my agency. You’d be able to get a better place with the pay. Plus less hours.”

You thought he was just being nice when he had first told you a job was always welcome. You were surprised to see him so serious.

You “Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable for you?”

Enji "No, I don't like seeing Fuyumi worry so much. I must say I will not be tested at work. If you act up I'll have to handle you off hours...or maybe on hours. I'm sure I can think of some punishments to keep you in line. If you ever need anything just text me. I can't have people growing suspicious be sure to behave. Brats will be handled with."

He had quite a few work "activities" he was looking forward to have you indulge in for him if you were willing.

He also wants an excuse to see you more. Maybe fuck you on his desk even though he’s not supposed to but he would never admit that.

You “Alright I’ll think about it. Thank you for offering”

After hearing about whatever punishments he had in store you were definitely going to apply. You just didn't want to seem to greedy. You'd definitely have to get Fuyumi's permission first.

Enji “Great now…did you wear a low cut top to tease me all night? How naughty. Can I go down on you?”

You “I wasn’t trying to tease you but I’m not upset that you were looking. Wait? What?! But-“

Enji teases “Don’t act coy I saw you sneaking looks at me every damn time Fuyumi turned away. You should really be more careful.”

You “Wouldn’t Fuyumi hear?”

Enji “You see when I was married I had the walls built especially thick to soften the noise of making children…and for when my boys got older if they ever brought a girl over I’d have peace of mind knowing I’d hear nothing or barely anything. So long as you don’t scream no one will hear you”

The darkness of the room makes it easy for him to do everything he wants to you from on your back. Eating you out quickly leads to having his cock buried deep inside you muffling out your moans with his hand over his mouth. Looking at you underneath him looking so helpless with one hand over your mouth, the other holding your legs to your chest made him so week. Catching small glimpses of your face in the dark made him cum faster than usual. Probably for the best. The faster the less chance of getting caught there is. Though unlikely that Fuyumi would be wondering about this late. Enji fingered any bit of his cum that leaked out of you right back inside you. Careful to not leave any evidence on the bed of what they’d just done.

He lays on top of you for a moment. “This Megumi I heard of wouldn’t be able to make you weak like this. Would he?”

Oh he heard?

You a bit surprised say “Oh? Is Enji jealous?”

Enji “Maybe I want to keep you to myself.”

Was he jealous? He didn’t really think much of it he just knew he hated the thought of another man with you. In fact he didn’t even want another man to make you laugh. He supposes he is quite jealous actually. He shouldn’t be but maybe he doesn’t care right now.

You tease though completely serious say “Well I have no complaints here. I can be all yours if that’s what you want. It’s only fair after you demanded I take your job then made me finish all over you.”

You should’ve expected him to be a bit jealous or possessive. After all you do remember Fuyumi telling you a while back a little bit about how her dad was always trying to compete with all might. How he always wanted to be number one at everything. You can’t say that you dislike him claiming you like this. If you keep coming like this not talking to any other men will be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

In the morning over breakfast after Enji has left for work you awkwardly ask Fuyumi how she feels about you applying to work for her dad. Trying to hide the fact that her dad practically begged you to work for him multiple times.

You “So um Fuyumi I have something serious to talk to you about. You know things are getting really expensive and I absolutely love working with you but…well I was looking online for job that payed really good and were easy to apply to. Your dad’s office was the top of the list. I don’t expect you to talk to your dad about getting me the job. I can do it on my own. I just wanted your opinion because well..he is your dad and..you’re my best friend. I won’t apply if you hate the idea.”

Fuyumi “I mean. We’ve….had our issues in the past but he’s nice now so I assume you’d be happy at his company. I mean I suppose it would make you feel closer to the family. I understand your decision. You have my support y/n.”

You wonder what issues she could be referring to.

You “Thank you Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi teases “On the plus side if you get the job I’ll make sure my dad is never allowed to fire you.”

Later after work she knocks on her dad’s office door.

Enji “Come in Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi “Um I have something to ask you. About y/n.”

His heart starts racing. Oh no did she find out? He undoes his tie a little to breathe better.

Enji “What’s happened?”

Fuyumi “Um how do you feel about y/n applying for your job?”

Thank god it was just about the job.

Enji “I would like for her to. Maybe then she could get a better apartment and you two could hang out there.”

That’s odd he’s either being soft towards you or he’s trying to push her away?

Fuyumi “But anytime my old friends have wanted to work for you before you said no?”

Enji “Well I didn’t think your old friends were respectable and hardworking.”

Oh so he’s being soft towards her? Interesting. She tries not to read anything deeper into it.

Fuyumi “Thank you dad. If you do hire her please don’t fire her it would break my heart.”

Enji “Alright alright.”

there’s so much smut in this one guys. I can’t tell if I’m still ovulating or if I’m going clinically insane lol

Any ideas for chapter 3?

Guys I know this is very much tmi so feel free to skip. I’m a bit old for this but I’m having my second ever gyno appointment tomorrow. I’m really nervous if any of you can offer words of comfort i appreciate it! Maybe if i feel okay enough after I’ll treat myself to some food to give me the strength to write chapter 3.😭

Chapter 1 & 3

[bonefall]

instead of asking what parts of wind you’ll be getting rid of, i’ll instead ask what parts you’re keeping. the list is shorter then haha

FROSTPAW AND WHISTLEPAW.

Best part of Wind is the bond between these two, in fact, the entire plot about WindClan felt like it dropped out of the alternate universe where the books are good. The sudden dream of catastrophe, the way StarClan gave Frostpaw this sign on purpose to make them know she's legitimate, Whistlepaw injuring herself to try and save her little sister... Even the little details, like Nightcloud and Hootwhisker trying to drag the tree by the trunk, were neat to see.

I Dont Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT I do know that I'm going to elevate and expand what's going on with Frost and Whistle. They're fantastic.

Another small thing I'm actually planning on keeping is this exchange between Squilf and Jayfeather, which you'll probably find surprising since I'm so open about how much I dislike the way they've made Squilfstar less proactive;

In a better book, I think this could have been a GREAT moment.

What I dislike about this exchange is that Squilf is able to rebuke it, because the writers DO feel that Bramblestar was a good leader. They're trying to show that Squilfstar is going to act more "mature" (read: boring) with her role now, probably to make a point about how Bramblestar wasn't being "indecisive" for the 10 years we were stuck with him but "responsible." Basically, she gets the power and finds out it isn't so easy-- I'll even bet at some point in the next arc or two she'll become frustrated by someone acting the way she used to.

I've seen some people praising this, and like, it's not illegal to have bad taste. But I think this is an AWFUL thing to do with a character who could have finally caused interesting things to happen, on top of just feeling like contempt of criticism on behalf of the writers.

"Ohhhh they thought she would be more decisive than our beloved baby boy, WELL, WE'LL SHOW THEM. You will sit through 10 paragraphs of debate no matter WHO is in charge!!!"

But like I said....... in a better book, this could have been great. If this was a wake-up call for her.

Suddenly experiencing the full weight of responsibility upon herself, she stops making bold decisions. The complicated political situation in front of her, individual opinions of her Clan around her, and the wounded glares of the furious Brambleclaw below her are all acting like briar vines, pulling her down.

Even StarClan itself seems to have placed a weight on her, cats who she's followed faithfully and been punished by.

So Jayfeather, with all of the changes he has in BB, brawling with angels, speaking defiance to the stars, and pulling spirits down from the heavens, is the perfect cat to be honest with her.

I'm still trying to find a good way to describe the electricity between them in this moment. BB!Jayfeather once reached up his paw through the veil between life and death to grab her ankle and fetch her from her own trial, knowing that she wanted to keep living. He's part of whatever motion she took to remove Bramblestar from power. Her son, her cleric, her ally. How do I put these emotions into words?

"Did you come this far just to become someone else?"

Just... what a moment it could be. For this to be the second that Squilfstar realizes in spite of everything, Bramblestar's thorns still jab at her. That she has to move forward, DAMN the uncertainty, by being herself.

[hvnsinureyes]

hear me out… wife!reader x JJ Redick where reader has a threesome with Austin and Luka in front of him while he tells them what to do... or is that too feral

warnings | nsfw— threesome, a bit of cucking(??), degradation

author’s note | i fear i might be a little freaked out… if this is too much i sincerely apologize but i had to write this 😞 not even a blurb atp i was rlly focused on the plot 😭

it was near the end of dinner when jj brought it up to you. 

the tension in his shoulders was obvious as he leaned back, staring off into space. he had that one look— stressed, desperate to find a way to fix the chemistry between luka and austin. the two had been struggling to connect on and off the court, despite all the bonding exercises that jj tried. nothing seemed to click. it wasn’t that luka and austin didn’t like each other, but their connection was...off. 

jj was far from a perfect coach, always pushing himself to better his skills. it led him to wonder if the problem wasn’t with them, but with him instead. it was a mess, one that jj wanted to clean up soon. he couldn't afford to let any mistakes fuck up their shot at the playoffs.

“i just don’t know what to do.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. you pursed your lips, thinking of a solution. jj had always been careful to keep work and home separate, so you weren't in on what was happening behind the scenes. if he hadn’t opened up to you, you would’ve never guessed that there was problem between luka and austin at all– they seemed fine when playing together. ugh, you hate this. you wish you could fix the problem yourself, but you’re not a coach nor do you know the first thing about building team chemistry other than using trust fall exercises.

jj notices how deep you are in thought. it’s cute, shows that you really care, but he knows you’re just as stumped as he is. “its fine,” he says it casually, waving off the problem, but from the way his jaw clenches, it won’t stop bothering him until something changes.

“i’ll figure it out eventually.”

"are you sure you want to do this?"

you rolled your eyes, already beyond frustrated with his constant pestering. you almost would’ve been touched by his concern if he’d just let it go by the eighth time he asked. you were very sure when jj brought up his idea, willing to help your husband any way you could. even in the most unconventional way. "yes, hun, it’s alright with me," you said, the irritation creeping into your voice. “i’m here now, do you want me to leave?”

“no, ignore me. i’m nervous, that’s all.”

what you didn’t know, though, was that jj hadn’t invited you to practice to "get to know the team and staff" like he’d said. no, he had his own secret plan— wanting to see if luka and austin might be interested in you. testing out a theory, wanting to see if they shared a similar taste. 

jj stood off to the side, his eyes trained on you like a hawk. he was waiting, watching, seeing how things would go. luka and austin were hard to read. their faces remained neutral and acted polite when it was their turn to say hi, but jj had been around long enough to know better. he’s not blind, he’s a man after all. luka’s gaze lingered a little too long when he shook your hand, eyes raking over your figure, while austin adjusted his pants subtly when you moved on to another staff member.

jj smirked to himself, he was right—he knew he would be. 

he knows what to do now.

it’s austin who decides to break the silence.

“so, uh…” he says, quietly. “what’s happening here again?” luka’s right beside him, looking just as confused, shifting awkwardly as he sees you sat on the bed, dressed in a lacy red lingerie set. 

they can’t believe this is real.

jj, on the other hand, stays calm, a tight, almost calculating smile on his face. he gets comfortable in the chair facing the bed, voice dropping into that low, commanding tone they’re so used to, “what do you think?” he says, words firm, no room for fooling around. “i’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her.” 

“wait, coach, it’s not like—“ austin panics, quick to defend himself, but jj cuts him off quick.

“i don’t really give a shit about what it’s like. point is, you want to fuck my wife. right?”

a tense silence settles over the room, thick and suffocating. jj doesn’t break eye contact once, basically staring into their souls. but luka is the one brave enough to nod his head. jj’s pleased by this, eyes now flickering to austin, who looks at him like he’s gone insane. but it’s undeniable. jj knows austin, and if he didn’t want this, he’d leave. 

it’s like austin knows that as well, finally giving in and nods, embarrassed to say the words he's thinking– “yeah, coach, your wife’s hot and i’d love to fuck her.” you don’t say that out loud, ever. 

“exactly.” he gestures to you, “she’s right there. ready for you both. but before we get to the good part, i’m gonna lay some ground rules.”

the tension in the room heightens instantly, both luka and austin bracing themselves for what’s coming next. 

“first of all, this isn’t for you to get your dick wet and have a fun time. no, i need to see chemistry between us. you’re gonna make her cum by actually working together and listening to your coach.” he points at them,

“second of all, she’s my wife, don’t forget it. you can be rough, slap her around, call her names— whatever. she likes it anyway. but you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna fuck her raw. get a condom over there and get undressed.” 

it’s quiet again and jj frowns, waiting for a response. "well? what do you say?"

“uh— yes coach.” austin responds nervously, but luka’s very sure of himself, ready to do whatever his dear coach says. “yes coach.” 

“good, let's get to it.”

“austin, why are you acting shy? fuck her mouth.” the hesitation is clear on austin’s face— he doesn’t want to hurt you. you’re already occupied with luka thrusting into your pussy, the two of you in your own world. it’s like luka’s completely blocked everything else out, only focused on making you cream all over his dick. and you love it— it’s obvious in the way you grip the sheets, throwing your ass back onto him, moaning out “more, more, right there!” in front of your husband like it’s nothing.

it wasn’t perfect at first, jj had to direct him where and how to fuck you like you want it, now luka’s hammering into your body— pressing on that sweet spot that makes you go crazy.

luka’s muttering in something in slovenian, austin doesn’t need a translator to know it’s absolutely filthy, but you eat it up just like your pussy keeps welcoming him inside your heat.

“are you sure?”

jj tsks, scoffing at him. give him a break already. “oh please, she loves it. don’t you honey?” austin looks back down to see you nodding, the sheets beneath you scrunching as you shake your head, gasping before you speak. “y—yes!”

“how much do you love it?”

“sooo, so much, please, more.” luka obeys, his thrusts unwavering, but it’s also a call for austin to just do something. “i’ll help you, buddy, listen to me.”

“grab her jaw,” jj continues, watching him closely. austin hesitates, but jj nods at him to go ahead. don’t be shy, austin thinks, grabbing your jaw. your eyes are glossy, filled with absolute pleasure, soft pants escaping your lips. “and slide it in,” austin glances to luka one more time, and he looks right back at him.

no shame, embarrassment, or fear from him. just primal need being unleashed onto your body, with no regrets at all. “do it, man,” luka says, groaning— “she feels so good, bet her mouth’s even better,” his hand goes to strike your ass, the sharp pain of it all fading away once when luka gives you kisses along your spine.

“it’s okay,” you bat your eyelashes at him, trying your best to encourage austin. your words are enough to have him break out of what’s holding him back, listening to your every word like you’re everything. “please give it to me, baby,” acrylic nails trailing up his thighs, edging closer and closer to his cock,

his breath hitches— the way you look at him like you’re ready to devour him whole, your hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking him with a smile. “don’t you wanna make jj proud?” you pout, licking off the precum off his tip, “don’t you wanna make me happy?”

yeah, he folded.

he decides right then and there, he’ll do anything you say. jj smiles along with you, glad that you’ve finally gotten through with him. he muses at irony of it all— this was more so about listening to what jj says.

might have to bring you along to practice more often to make austin listen.

[riordanness]

enchanté — [n.sheff]

wordcount: 1.2K

warnings: none

requested: no

tags: @honey-ambrosia my wife <33 (send her love or else)

a/n: idk?? i just had a random idea while watching this movie for the first time so enjoy i guess. nic is defo ooc, doesn’t do drugs in this fic either, and i know basically none of the movie plot yet. feel free to request nic sheff fics tho! <3

“Nice to meet you.” I smile; and shake my new roommate's hand. He seems nice enough, with pretty green eyes and curly brown hair.

He smiles back, then heads into our dorm room. I turn back to my conversation with the other girls in our hallway. Turns out there wasn’t an even number of girls or boys this year, so I got shoved into a dorm room with a guy. Not that that’s the worst thing that could’ve happened to me; he’s kinda cute.

One of the other new girls, I think she said her name was Alexa, nudges me. “Damn, I wish I was the not-so-unlucky girl stuck with a boy. He is hot.”

I shrug. “He’s not bad. He’s probably got a girlfriend though. Or he’s gay.” I nudge her back. “Doesn’t matter that much; he’s probably the kind of guy who spends all his time not in his dorm room. More time alone for me.”

I say goodbye and turn towards my bedroom door. I stop just before it, though, when I hear voices.

“Yeah, she seems nice, she’s just in the hall,” I hear my roommate say. I’m not entirely sure who he’s talking to, but then another person speaks, a much older man, and I remember his father is here.

“I feel for you though…” His father laughs, and I hear the sound of cds clacking together, and I realise that they’re my cds.

I internally cringe. Why did I decide to set up my cds? My roommate definitely thinks I’m a total loser freak now. I visualise my collection. Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Chase Atlantic, Melanie Martinez, Joshua Bassett, and the Chainsmokers. Pretty much screams ‘basic white girl’ doesn’t it?

I knock on the doorframe, stepping into view. “Hey,” I say, waving a little at his father. “Nice to meet you.”

My roommate’s father hastily shoves my cds back onto my desk. “You too. I’m Nic’s father.” He stands and offers me his hand. I shake it, offering a smile.

“Well…” Nic’s father pats his pockets. “I’d best be going.” He gives his son a hug, who stands and grips his father tightly.

I feel awkward, like I’m interrupting something.

“Everything,” Nic whispers.

“Everything.”

Though I have no idea what that means, I think it’s adorable.

His father leaves, and the two of us stand for a moment. Then I drop my bag on the floor next to my bed and flop myself onto it.

“What’s your name?” Nic asks quietly. “I’m Nic.”

I prop myself up on one elbow. “I know. I’m y/n.”

He nods. “Cool.”

There’s silence for a couple more seconds, more than feels comfortable.

I blow out my breath. “My friend thinks you’re cute.”

He laughs in surprise. “Is that a pick-up line?”

“No.” I glance at him. “She literally does think that.”

“Okay.” Another pause. “My dad thinks your music taste sucks.”

I glance over at my cd collection, which is now in an unorganised pile on my desk, compliments to Nic’s father. “Mm.”

“It’s not bad, though,” he offers. “I love Chase Atlantic.”

I raise an eyebrow, and meet his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmmm. Vibes, Into It, Friends, Meddle About, CALL ME BACK, Church, some of my favourite songs ever.”

I make an impressed face. “Okay, okay. I’ll accept that.”

“The other stuff though?” He makes a face. “Taylor Swift? Really?”

I sit up. “Yes. Taylor Swift really.” I grab my notebook out of my bag and relax onto my pillows. “Now shh while I write this idea down.”

He suddenly looks interested. “You write?”

“Duh.”

“No, no,” he tries to backtrack. “I mean, I write too. That’s why I’m here. To study writing.”

I look at him over the top of my notebook. “You? A writer?” i don’t mean to sound incredulous, but I probably do.

He nods sincerely. “I love to write. What kind of things do you write?”

“Umm…” I stare up at the ceiling. “All kinds. Poetry, fiction, lyrics, fanfiction, essays, critiques, anything really. I just love anything to do with words and writing.” I swing my legs over the side of my bed, facing him. “What about you?”

“Me too. Anything.”

I nod. “Can I read something of yours sometime?”

He shoots me a crooked smile. “Only if I can read yours.”

“Deal.”

We shake hands, and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t flutter a little.

It’s been six weeks of sharing a dorm with Nic Sheff, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love every second.

Turns out, he’s amazing. At like, everything. His writing is incredible, at least the little I’ve seen so far. He can skateboard like nobody’s business. He can sing, speak French, and apparently, braid hair. (I know from experience, trust me on this).

“Hey, tresses,” Nic says, throwing his backpack on the floor, and himself on my bed.

I was at my desk, trying to study. “Hey,” I reply absentmindedly.

“You got class this afternoon?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

“Same one as me?”

“Probably.”

“Y/n…” he whines, picking up my Spider-Man squishmallow and throwing it at me. “Pay attention to me.”

I glance up. “What?”

“Do you have the poetry class in twenty minutes? The one we both take?” He asks the question slowly.

I read my timetable quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Okay. Let’s go then, it’s a bit of a walk and we do not want to be late.”

I shut my laptop. “Fine. Let’s go then.”

He jokingly offers me his arm, and instead of taking it like a lady, I hit him. “Ow, y/n!” he complains.

I giggle. “Come on, Nic. We don’t wanna be late.” I mimic his earlier words.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re awful, tresses.”

“You love me.”

He doesn’t reply to that.

“Alright, Mr Steff, would you like to read your poem aloud now?” Mr Day asks the boy.

Nic glances nervously at me, for some reason, then stands as he nods at our teacher. “Yes, sir.”

He unfolds a crumpled piece of paper, clears his throat, and licks his lips in the cute way he always does when he’s worried or nervous.

“Mon amour,

Oh, how I adore you.

The way you make me feel, my love,

it’s like I’d give anything for one of your smiles.

The fact that I can’t say ‘je vous aime’,

well, ça me tue à l’intérieur.

j’ai été enchanté de te rencontrer,

mon amour.

je pense que tu es á ma place.

Mon amour,

Oh, how I adore you.

Je vous aime.”

A brief silence follows Nic’s poem, then a round of applause, louder than any I’d heard here before.

He looks at me, and for a split second I don’t know why. Then it clicks.

“Me?” I ask weakly. “You wrote that… for me?”

He smiles shyly. “I love you.”

The whole class cheers, and we get another round of applause.

My mouth is open, and my heart is racing, but I know I want to say it too. But for some reason, when I open my mouth, the words won’t come out. So I do the only other thing I can think of.

I stand up, grab Nic by the collar, and pull him into a kiss.

The cheering gets a whole lot louder after that.

translation:

“My love,

Oh, how I adore you.

The way you make me feel, my love,

it’s like I’d give anything for one of your smiles.

The fact that I can’t say ‘I love you’,

Well, it kills me inside.

I was enchanted to meet you,

my love.

I think you belong with me.

My love,

Oh, how I adore you.

I love you.”

[margheritart]

Unpopular opinion (maybe) but am I the only one who thinks Yellowjackets has become a really BAD show? Tbh it might be too early to judge as we’re only 4 episodes into s3, so I hope they will actually pull off something great, but so far it feels like the quality of the show has sunk since s1. Especially wrt the adult timeline.

S1 was so great and compelling, it had so much potential, then s2 had many flaws but still mostly delivered imo, especially in the wilderness timeline. But s3 to me feels like the writers have no idea what to do anymore with the characters they have. The adult timeline feels very disconnected from the teen timeline, and has become far less interesting than it was in s1, it feels messy and ridiculous and directionless, like they're just throwing plot points after plot points to try to keep it alive (like in the last episode with ******'s death), but nothing of it actually matters or makes any sense. Adult TaiVan seems dumb and more like fan service when it could have had interesting and meaningful implications (i.e. Tai having to choose between her family and career=normal life vs Van=the past=the wilderness=her trauma), and adult Tai's arc from s1 is now completely abandoned despite being one of the best parts about the adult timeline. Travis' death was hyped up as something important, but it was just a stupid accident, I suppose. Same with Lottie being set up at the end of s1 as possibly a big villain only to turn out to be some lame woo woo wellness guru and then killed off??? And don't get me started on all of Shauna's arc basically going to shit.

I feel like the show is raising higher and higher stakes in the adult timeline, while also kinda dropping them in the wilderness timeline, while it should be the contrary???

The wilderness timeline still seems somewhat better in s3, but I still get the feeling they're dragging it a bit too much and they don't know what to do with some of the characters (like Nat and Tai). And the time skip from the aftermath of the cabin burning to now being spring with them living in this sort of "glamping" village seems like a terrible cop out from what could’ve been a great way to start the season.

Overall, I feel like this show is kinda getting the "Marvel treatment", where the writers overdo the comedy part and seem too afraid to actually dig deeper on the dark and gritty aspects, unless they can be used for shock value.

I really don't know how they think they can pull off 5 seasons if the result is this, but at this rate I’ll keep watching only because I want to see when and how they get rescued.

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .009

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: I actually looked at my notes and went huh, I can compress the rest of the ideas into one chapter, so next chapter we’ll kinda be getting back on track with the plot!

This chapter we will be having a poll for Ashrah, and this is the last love interest poll! I’ll still do polls from time to time to have some sort of reader interactivity, but it won’t be as frequent (though next chapter DOES have a bit of a special poll though haha)

As usual, taking votes on Ashrah for a week, aka until the tumblr poll ends.

Also I never mentioned this but?? Sadly, Rain didn’t get in the love interest line up, but don’t fret! He will still be relevant to the plot in other ways :D Mileena, on the other hand, did get in! 

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO COOKS FOR OTHERS

It turns out, you enjoyed cooking far more than you realized.

“Here, I’m positive this is your favorite.”

Handing Kenshi the meal, you grinned at him, a small hint of smugness in your grin. You admired your own handiwork. You had taken the liberty to pack it in a bento box this time, to match the Japanese cuisine you had made for him.

“You’re very bold claiming that.” Kenshi commented, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you. Yet on his face was a small, amused smile. His gaze dropped to inspect the box, and a small hum left his lips as he nodded approvingly at the way it was packaged. “You even used a bento box, nice attention to detail.”

“I try.” You said playfully, laying a hand on your chest. “I’ll have you know I went out of my way to obtain one just for you.” 

“I’m honored.” Kenshi replied in a light, playful way that reflected yours. 

You watched with bated breath as he opened the bento box. With satisfaction, you watched as the expectant look on his face gave way to one of shock. You crossed your arms smugly, basking in the pride you felt at his reaction. 

“This…is actually my favorite.” Kenshi said in awe, eyes searching the bento box as he scanned all the items in front of him. His eyes glanced from you, back down to the food, back to you with surprise evident on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he processed the situation in front of him. “How did you guess this so accurately?”

“Just because I’m not a god like Lord Liu Kang doesn’t mean I don’t have tricks of my own.” You said vaguely. It was best not to mention how you had a hazy memory of cooking this food for him in your past life. You watched as the swordsman’s eyebrows rose, but ultimately he did not question you. Still, you watched as he pursed his lips. 

“It was a lucky guess, wasn’t it?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

“Nope, I just have really good intuition.” You replied, grinning at the man still. His eyes narrowed, seeming unsatisfied with your vague and ultimately illogical answer. He glanced down again, scanning the food, scrutinizing it again.

“That’s basically the same thing as luck, if you think about it.” He pointed out with a small huff. He challenged you with a long stare.

“No.” You quickly replied, a small pout on your lips now. “Luck is guessing something out of nothing.” You pointed out before gesturing to him. “I used intuition. That means I used what I knew about you to guess what your favorite food was.” You shrugged. “That’s the difference, see?”

“And you think I look like someone who enjoys this type of food?” Kenshi inquired, trying to see if he could get more information out of you. You could tell from the tone of his voice he was being playful still. You gestured to the bento box with a sly look on your face. You glanced down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Well, I made it for you, hm?” You replied, with a tone that screamed ‘isn’t it obvious?’ “And from what you told me, I got it absolutely correct.” You continued, crossing your arms as you saw him sigh.

“I guess you did.” He conceded as he nodded. Kenshi then smiled at you, something that you weren’t all too familiar with, but found charming nevertheless. “Thank you.” He said, before pausing. “This will be nice to eat. I haven’t had any Japanese food since I left the Yakuza.” 

“No problem.” You told him. Too absorbed in your glee, you put a hand on his shoulder and pat it. “If you ever want me to make you more, just let me know.” You told him, sending him a wink. “You’re the one who helped me improve my cooking so far.” You glanced at the sky. “Well, it’s time for me to go, let me know what you think of it next time.” 

You left, and Kenshi was left staring after you, watching you for a few moments. The peace and quiet lasted for a few mere moments before Johnny Cage came strolling in, looking between Kenshi and you who was walking off in the distance.

“You having a moment or something, tattoo?” Johnny asked as he glanced between you two again. He peered over Kenshi’s shoulder as he inspected the food. “Hah, teach gave you some food? Let me try.” He said, before reaching out to grab a piece of it. He let out a small ‘ow’ as his hand was quickly smacked away. 

“This isn’t yours, Cage.” Kenshi huffed, glaring at the actor. Johnny put his hands up in surrender, letting out a snicker at the protective look on the swordsman’s face. He then, before anyone else could try and get their hands on his food, grabbed a piece of the food and popped it into his mouth.

It tasted like home.

“Kung Lao is here.” 

Opening the door to the kitchen, Liu Kang peered in. The smell of wonderful, delicious food wafted his way. Even the god himself felt hungry from the scent of your cooking alone, and he even was able to resist Madam Bo’s food. There was clanging of pots and pans, and the hissing of food as it hit the hot pans. 

“Okay, give me a moment!” You called out, glancing over your shoulder. You turned off the heat, quickly dumping the finished food into a bowl on the side.You could continue your cooking endeavor later. You wiped off the sweat that had formed on your brow. You had been standing over the stove for a while now, slaving away at making a wonderful dinner to which you’d be serving later for the Lin Kuei trio.

“Alright, I’ll have him wait.” The fire god called out before he closed the door, letting you finish doing what you had been doing.

With a sigh you stepped back and leaned on the wall. The air even a few steps away from the stove felt refreshing. You stood, letting the air cool you off a bit more before you stepped out of the kitchen. You quickly made your way to your room, grabbing the package Liu Kang had given you a day ago before rushing off to the room where people usually waited when they sought out an audience with Liu Kang.

“Hi, sorry for the wait!” You greeted, still feeling a little sweaty as you briskly walked over to Kung Lao. You watched as he looked at you in surprise. You supposed it was because he had never seen you to the point of exertion like this. After all, you rarely broke a sweat during their training. He had a similar reaction when you had shown up to train them in bandages after your sparring with Bi-Han a while ago, so your assumption probably wasn’t too far off.

“It’s all fine.” Kung Lao said, waving off your apology. He rubbed his hands together in excitement as he got up. You noted his casual clothes, and it warmed your heart as it reminded you of the movie nights you all had every month or so. He approached you, and his glee was infectious as a smile nearly as bright as his appeared on your face.

“Okay, this should be the last prototype, but it’s pretty much the final product.” You told him, carefully opening the box. The result of the hat within the box was you and Kung Lao discussing how to better innovate and design a hat that suited him. Not only in terms of a weapon, but also as a fashion item since he consistently mentioned wanting to wear it everywhere.

“What’s the point of making it a hat if I can’t wear it everywhere?” The former farmhand had insisted to you many months ago, when he had pointed at the hat which had been much too heavy to wear comfortably. You had sighed but agreed. He did have a point. 

It also comforted you to know that some things never seemed to change, such as Kung Lao’s devotion to his hat.

Lifting the hat out of the box, Kung Lao held it with some reverence. His eyes sparkled with delight as he held it up. He first inspected it from all angles, marveling over the precise craftsmanship that went into creating the perfect weapon that happened to be a hat. 

You sent him a look as his finger traced the razor sharp edge. It was the same look you sent him to warn him to be careful everytime he did it. He rolled his eyes, but in a playful manner. You scoffed lightheartedly in return.

“You’re going to cut your finger on it one day, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“But I haven’t yet.” Kung Lao bragged cockily. He withdrew his finger from the bladed edge, cut free. He wiggled his fingers smugly to show that fact off. “See? I am already a professional around this thing.” He said with utmost confidence. You sighed and shook your head.

“If I ever hear word that you end up cutting your finger on the edge, I’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You promised as you smiled at him teasingly. You watched as his eyebrows raised before a sly grin appeared on his face. He leaned forward with a small chuckle.

“Hah! That won’t happen.” He scoffed, and you could tell that his ego was growing again. You rolled your eyes as you pushed him back lightly. Kung Lao let out a loud chuckle, amused by the banter that happened between you. This back and forth, it felt natural. For a moment, you looked at him and remembered simpler times with him and Liu Kang.

Your heart squeezed, a feeling you won’t ever be able to truly suppress no matter how many times it occurred.

“Oh really, want to put your money where your mouth is?” You propose, trying to ignore the way your heart yearned for a life you no longer had. You watched as Kung Lao’s grin grew wider. If there was one thing you had learned from training him, it was that the man from Fengjian loved to bet. It was something you caught your students doing often due to his influence.

“You’re finally making a bet with me?” Kung Lao asked, a tone of excitement in his voice. While it wasn’t often, you had a bet tossed your way here and there. You had turned them down previously, but now it was different now that you were the one proposing the bet. 

“That’s what I asked you, no?” You sassed him, raising your eyebrows. 

“Then I gladly accept a bet with you.” Kung Lao graciously accepted, tilting his head. “Just a shame that our first bet together will have a guaranteed loss on your end.” He added on. The pure confidence in your tone had you letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Calm down, we haven’t even set up the terms of our bet.” You reminded him, all too amused by his pride. Still, your words did not make the confident and smug look on his face waver at all. He truly believed in himself, a trait you somewhat admired.

“I’ll win either way.” Kung Lao quipped, which made you roll your eyes again. It was an action you found yourself doing often around the man, no matter how much he amused you. “How about this, you stop sending me that look you do everytime I do this…” The former farmhand traced his finger along the blade’s edge once more. Instinctively, you found yourself doing the look he was referring to. “For a week. And if I prove I don’t need that reminder to not cut my finger, then I win.”

“Do I get penalized if I accidentally send you the look?” 

“I’ll be generous and say no.” Kung Lao said, his smug look turning a tad bit more cheeky as he looked at you. “All I need to do is prove that I won’t cut my fingers on this hat.” He claimed, and you nodded, not finding anything wrong with the terms he had. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” He declares.

You let out a hum, now thinking of the terms of winning the bet. You closed your eyes, recalling how prideful Kung Lao was. He would probably be his own downfall, honestly.

A small voice whispered in your head telling you he already did, reminding you of the visions of his untimely death in another life haunting you.

“Alright, I accept.” You hastily replied, trying to ignore the voice that sent chills down your back. You stuck your hand out to seal the deal. Almost instantly, he grabbed yours and shook it in a firm handshake. You smiled.

His hand was softer than you were expecting.

“I hope you’re prepared to lose.” He taunted, putting the hat back in the box with his free hand that held the hat. He seemed satisfied enough with the final product. You sighed and squeezed his hand as if challenging him.

“Don’t be so quick to think yourself victorious, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly before letting go of his hand. How his hand felt lingered in your mind a few more minutes before you saw his face turn a little sheepish as he looked down at your torso. You raised an eyebrow and looked down, completely forgetting the apron you had donned.

“Had I been interrupting something?” He inquired, an innocent tone to his voice. You let out a small laugh as you waved off his question. How unusual for him to have that tone of voice. You shook his head, and he nodded, now a curious look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, you had just interrupted me making dinner. I’m inviting the three Lin Kuei men who had tested you. Don’t worry about being an interruption though, I was the one who asked you to drop by.” You told him, reassuring him that he had not been a bother at all.

“You…cook?” Kung Lao said, processing your words. You nodded slowly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yeah, Madam Bo taught me.” You watched as Kung Lao’s jaw dropped in surprise. You shrugged causally, looking at him. “Who do you think was giving Kenshi all that food?” You asked. You watched as he processed all of this, and gasped.

“You cook like Madam Bo, and didn’t give me any?” He inquired, the tone of his voice indicating you’ve committed a crime akin to a sin. You laughed at the absurdity of his reaction, he was more of a food lover than you had presumed. 

“I needed criticism to improve, Kung Lao.” You watched him pout at your excuse, probably thinking it wasn’t good enough. “I promise I’ll give you some food soon enough, okay?” You told him, placing a hand on your hip. You watched as he perked up.

“You’ll be doing that regardless, since I’m planning on making you make me a feast once I win our bet.” Kung Lao declared, and you sighed. You pat down your apron, trying to clean it before you went back into the kitchen.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when you lose, Kung Lao.” You remarked, grinning at him mischievously. You grabbed his shoulder, pushing him towards the entrance of the Fire Temple. “Now go back and rest, I have to go prepare dinner.” You told him, knowing he would delay longer to see if you could also make him a meal.

“Don’t forget your promise!” He called over his shoulder as he began to walk off, a boisterous laugh leaving his lips as he began to walk off. You nodded, reassuring him that you would as long as he stayed on your good side. You sighed as you looked up into the sky, trying to gauge how much time you had left before you had to serve the Lin Kuei brothers.

You had time.

Turning on your heel, you briskly walked back to the kitchen to work away once again.

“You were very prepared for tonight.”

“I know.” You replied, trying not to feel too smug as you led the trio of men into the dining room you had set up. It was much more fancy today than usual, seeing as you didn’t bother to try and decorate much when Liu Kang ate with you. 

All types of food were spread across the table, from entrees to side dishes. You also had desserts planned, but you had them stashed away to allow the main courses to shine. Impressively, all of it looked fresh, hot, and ready to eat. You watched the trio’s reactions, and how they varied. 

Kuai Liang seemed appreciative of the whole ordeal. A small, rare smile was spread across his lips. His eyes slowly scanned the foods you had on display, analyzing them carefully as if each were a precious art piece. Then, his eyes made their way towards yours and he nodded.

Tomas was very eager, his eyes wide and searching. They darted to and fro, as if he could not settle on what he wanted to eat first. His grin was bigger, and he leaned forward just slightly. You watched as he inhaled deeply, and let out a sigh of longing.

Bi-Han’s reaction was the most subtle. He, as usual, had his resting face on. Yet, at the same time, you could see how his eyes widened slightly, almost as if there were a gleam in his eyes. He also scanned the dishes, but once they landed on a dish you knew was his was favorite, he honed in on it. He glanced away and towards you, a small huff leaving his lips. And dare you say it, you could say the corners of his lips were upturned.

He was smiling. Maybe not the most obvious one, but it was one nevertheless.

Okay, maybe you could afford to let your ego grow a little bit. It’s not everyday you get some of the best Lin Kuei fawning over your cooking.

You made your way to your spot on the table. It was the same spot you always sat at whenever you ate with Liu Kang. You just had a sentimental attachment to it, though you would never admit it outloud. You watched as Bi-Han claimed the seat beside you, and Tomas was across from you. That left Kuai Liang sitting the farthest from you.

“Eat up!” You told them, before grabbing the foods you wanted and sliding them onto your plate. The air was filled with the clinks of dishes being moved around. Here and there there would be a request to pass a dish over.

“This is amazing!” Tomas piped up after a few minutes. On his face was one of the most delighted expressions you’ve ever seen on him. You grinned at him, a surge of pride running through you. You watched with joy as he almost greedily put more of your cooking on his plate. “I wish we had this type of cooking back at the temple.”

“I must agree.” Kuai Liang spoke, nodding. Though he was not as fast as Tomas in eating his meal, you were surprised to see that he had eaten it more quickly than you had expected. “This is delicious, I did not know you were this talented at cooking.” He commended.

Instinctively, you glanced over to Bi-Han. To your surprise, he was silently adding more onto his plate, having almost finished the initial amount he had put on. He looked up from his plate, glancing over to you. His eyes narrowed at your expectant gaze before he tore his eyes away.

“It’s good.” He began, and your jaw dropped a bit at the clear praise. “The Lin Kuei’s cooking standards should be brought up to match these.” Bi-Han continued, which greatly increased your ego. You looked away to preserve your pride by not grinning like a madman.

“Oh it’s nothing.” You said, trying to downplay how happy you felt at their compliments. “I owe it all to Madam Bo, honestly.” You told them, only to feel Bi-Han’s stare.

“Teachings can only get you so far.” Bi-Han pointed out, making your eyebrow raise. He looked away from you to take another bite of your cooking, leaving you to ponder over his words as he ate. “With skill like this, you are far more competent than what you make yourself out to be.”

“Bi-Han’s right.” Tomas spoke up, giving you an encouraging look. “You’re really good!” Kuai Liang nodded in agreement as he silently continued to eat their meal. With their compliments combined, you felt your face grow warm. You looked downwards, a bit shyly and continued to eat.

“You, Lord Liu Kang, and your students are going to Outworld for the tournament soon, correct?” Scorpion inquired, looking up at you. You nodded, taking another bite of your food. “Do you have any idea of who, out of all of your students, will be chosen to compete?”

“Hmm…” You hummed, pondering over the question as you chewed your food slowly. “I think any of them are capable of becoming champion.” You responded, shrugging. “They all show promise.” You let out another hum. “But if I had to choose, I think it would be between Kung Lao and Raiden.” 

“The two from the exam?” Bi-Han inquired, his eyebrows raising slightly. At your nod, he huffed. “I recall Kung Lao being presumptuous. I hope your teachings have burst his ego.” He mentioned, and you vaguely remember Bi-Han scoffing at him long ago.

“He’s gotten better.” You say, smiling as you reflect at the progress you have done with your students over the months you’ve been put in charge of them. “Kung Lao is still prideful though, but not too much.” You paused, letting out a small chuckle. “Most times, at least.” 

“Are you excited to go to Outworld?” Smoke asked. You nodded in response. The three were not aware of your potential connection with Outworld. Still, you had previously mentioned to them how you were eager for the chance to travel to another realm. They just simply didn’t know why or how eager you were. 

“I am. Lord Liu Kang tells me it’s a wonderful, breathtaking place.” You mentioned a small smile on your lips as you heard the small voice in your head that you might finally be able to unlock more memories. “If I find any interesting trinkets, I’ll be sure to bring them back for you guys.”

“You do not need to, but it would be appreciated.” Kuai Liang said, looking at you with eyes that glimmered with appreciation at the mere promise. “I would not want you to worry over gifts for us instead of enjoying the atmosphere.”

“Oh it’d be no issue, trust me.” You reassured him, your smile growing wider.

The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted banter, for the most part, and delicious food. It was nice, having the brothers all together. Still, a bubble of worry formed within you as you all ate. They were all playing nice now, but Kuai Liang’s words of concern echoed in your head.

Was Bi-Han really set on a self destructive path that would tear the brothers apart? 

The with closeness of the brothers right now, you didn’t want to believe it. Bi-Han may not show his love for his brothers clearly, but he still cared. Or at least, you thought so. Kuai Liang was not one to worry over such things so easily.

A fire of determination burned in your heart as you bid the trio goodnight. You watched as Bi-Han led them away, and a sigh left your lips. You stood on the bridge, soaking in the moonlight for a few moments more.

You would mend whatever rift was going to tear them apart, no matter what.

“What is all of this?”

Looking up from the little set up, you smiled at the perplexed expression on Raiden’s face. You had invited him out for one last training session before the champion exam. It was nearly a week before you all were going to go to Outworld. For all the months you’ve trained him, Raiden had been very diligent and grown much.

So instead of a training session, you decided you would reward him instead. Maybe it was a little bit biased, but the expression on his face alone right now made it all worth it.

“It’s a reward.” You said simply, standing up. You gestured to the picnic you’ve set up in the courtyard. It was nearly perfect. The stars, the moon, they were all so much prettier tonight. It was the perfect night sky for a late night picnic. “I thought instead of training you to the bone, we could celebrate tonight instead for your growth.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Raiden said, his voice full of awe as he walked over. You sent him a look that told him not to be so humble, not now. He let out a small chuckle as he walked over. You sat down and so did he. He looked over to the spread you had lying out. “This all looks wonderful.” He marvels.

“I hope so. I made it all myself.” You bragged, watching with a bit of satisfaction as his expression turned amazed. 

“You did?” He asked, and you nodded. He looked back over to the food with more scrutiny. “I’m honored you made this all, thank you.” He said, his voice full of reverence. He reached out, his hand hovering over some food. The former farmer glanced back at you. “May I?”

“Go right ahead, I made this mostly for you.” You said, grinning as you gestured for him to dig in. You leaned over, grabbing some food for yourself. “I still will eat some too, so don’t you worry.” You let out a small hum of satisfaction as you ate it, enjoying the flavor you had created.

You and Raiden ate, savoring the flavors of the food you made. Silence passed between the both of you for a few moments, finding comfort in simply sitting near each other.

“This is really good.” Raiden complimented after swallowing his bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think. Then, a look of recognition appeared on his face. “This cooking actually reminds me of Madam Bo’s actually.” 

“Well, I suppose the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” You commented, grinning slyly at Raiden’s shocked expression when the realization dawned on him.

“Madam Bo taught you how to cook?” He inquired, glancing between you and the food you had created. You nodded, setting down your food for a moment to stretch. You sighed in satisfaction as you felt your joints pop. You really needed to stretch more.

“Is it really that surprising?” You inquired, a teasing tone to your voice as you looked over to Raiden. A look of shock appeared on his features, as realization settled on his features. An almost bashful look appeared on his features as he shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Raiden quickly said, which made you laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully as you lightly nudged his shoulder.

“I’m kidding Raiden.” You told him, a small mischievous look on your lips still. “But yes, Madam Bo did teach me.” You said, a small nostalgic tone to your voice as you looked over the slowly dwindling amount of food that you were sharing. “She was very insistent that I learn from her.”

“I see.” Raiden ate a bit more food, seeming to savor it even more now. An appreciative smile appeared on his face as he indulged in the food you gave him. “I think I like this even more than Madam Bo’s cooking.” He mentioned. looking up at you with that smile of his. Letting out a surprised laugh, you playfully nudged him again.

“Hah! Don’t let Madam Bo hear that!” You teased, grinning at him. You weren’t certain if he was being polite or not. But, you were compelled to believe him with the sincere way he said those words. Raiden’s smile grew bigger.

“She’d probably stuff me full of food until I pop if I said that around her.” Raiden admitted, laughing alongside you.

Soon enough, the food was all finished, it disappearing quickly as you two conversed. It tasted even better with such lovely company. You packed things up in the small basket you brought, with Raiden helping. Even when the surprise was for him, he still found a way to try and work.

“Did you still want me to train tonight?” The man inquired, raising an eyebrow as he helped finish packing up the stuff, except for the blanket the two of you were sitting on. You sighed and shook your head, sending him an exasperated look. Even after al that, he was thinking about training?

And you thought you were the workaholic.

“We’re not training tonight, you have an important exam tomorrow.” You reminded him, sending him an amused look. You pat the space beside you, having him scoot a bit closer to you. You laid down, letting out another sigh as you stared at the stars above you.

“Let’s just observe and enjoy the beauty of the sky tonight.” You proposed, taking in the beauty of the sky. It was magnificent. The sky seemed to be particularly clear tonight, the stars above twinkling brightly. The moon was nice and full. and seemed to be even bigger, allowing for a breathtaking view.

You heard the sound of Raiden also laying down next to you, also taking a moment to lie down. Minutes passed, a comfortable silence once again settling in. It was just you and him, staring up at the stars and taking in the view.

It was times like this you remember just how lucky you are to be able to witness such a thing.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked, searching the stars. You spotted the constellations in the sky you remembered reading about in a few of the books lying around the Fire Temple. Raiden was sent out of his daze when you spoke. 

Raiden blinked, looking over to you. His stare lingered on you instead, admiring you instead of the galaxy above. You were too wrapped up in looking at the stars to notice the way he looked at you and how his cheeks warmed up.

There was a moment as he stared at you, realizing how fortunate he was to be by your side.

“Yes…yes they are beautiful.”

part ten