#they're practically beating you in the face with it it's not subtle at all

[carboardserpent]

Jackson Storm is autistic, no you can't change my mind.

Anyway, have a little thing I wrote about it.

- - -

The track stinks, even through the helmet. Burned rubber and exhaust fumes are apparently one of the best things about the sports, if you ask fans and other drivers. It stings my eyes and burns in my throat. You'd think eventually you'd get used to it. You'd be wrong.

The sun is reflecting off advertisement boards placed above the seats of the stands. Every one flashes a glint of light through the top of the windshield that keeps catching my attention and distracting me.

The roaring of 40 engines is deafening through windows only covered by a net, and there's a voice in my ear trying to talk me through the plan I already know. I can hear myself responding, but I'm not actually sure what I'm saying. Whatever it is seems to be satisfactory, though - the voice in my ear goes quiet a moment before the engine roar gets louder.

My body responds without me telling it to. Foot down, shift up; it's automatic. Everything looks kind of hazy. Like a light mist has covered the track, even though the sun is shining directly in my eyes from over the top of the stands. I'm not really in control, but that's okay. I don't need to be.

I'm free to float in this hazy disconnect, watching myself drive like I'm a passenger in my own body. It's fine. I'll come back to myself when there's thirty laps to go. I always do.

[haologram]

between you and me ❄️ l.c [m]

↳ part of the winter with you collab! synopsis: everything you've ever done, chan has been by your side - either egging you on or talking you off the ledge. after a rough year of studying, failed relationships and having chan be the insistent angel on your shoulder, the holidays roll around - and let's just say you're not too happy about it. genre: holiday au. bffs to exes to lovers (what a doozy); angst, fluff, smut. pairing: lee chan x fem!reader word count: 40.4k (DON'T LOOK AT ME!) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, references to smoking weed, alcohol, food, use of sex as a general coping mechanism, jealousy. general exes who are still friends type of dynamics. mentions of misogynistic views, mentions of having kids, mentions of seasonal depression. chan is a bit of an asshole but redeems himself (and is overall just a good person but yk...) reader has a strained relationship with her mother. reader deflects a lot, chan cannot stop running his mouth. mingyu and sooyoung make several appearances. mutual pining. smut warnings: (let's take a deep breath for this one!) multiple scenes because they're fucking freaks (3 total!) alluded virginity loss (not depicted, backstory). teasing, frottage, heavy petting, bitiing, chan cums in his pants once. oral (m&f. rec.), face sitting, ab riding, subtle body worship (m&f. rec.), fingering (f.rec), pussy slapping (i know i know). nipple play (m&f. rec.), hair pulling, spitting, cumplay (just...okay?), switch!chan x switch!reader, chan likes it when she's mean, whiny!chan (can i get a hell yeah!?). slight strength kink, breeding kink, d*ddy kink (save me), love (?) kink (?). dirty talk (HELP. ME.), pet names (baby, princess, babe, etc.,) unprotected sex (don't do this), missionary (wouldn't be a haologram fic without missionary and body worship but i digress.) i think that's it! what to listen to: meddle about - chase atlantic ; habit - seventeen ; to die for - sam smith ; wait - dino ; heart - dawn ; scared to live - the weeknd ; fantasy - bazzi ; don't leave me - intro ; kiss it better - rihanna ; all mine - plaza ; the party and the after party - the weeknd ; always - daniel caesar ; fade into you - mazzy star. author's note: i fear i cannot shut the fuck up! yet another behemoth for caratblr, loverboy!chan save me please. special thanks to my dearest @diamonddaze01 for betaing this big ass fic an encouraging me to not give it up when i was truly losing my mind. thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be in yet another collab of theirs. as always, dedicated to the most devoted dinonara i know, @bitchlessdino. snowflake dividers are by @/strangergraphics here on tumblr! enjoy the wild ride and happy holidays, everyone!

DECEMBER 22, 4:32PM.

Your car horn cannot take another beating, and you're not sure Chan's ears can take another annoyed, muttered string of expletives from your mouth – confirmed the moment he yells at you to pull over. You argue back that you're in the middle of the expressway and everyone around you is going over sixty miles an hour, but he doesn't care. You mumble profanities as you merge several lanes, pulling over only for him to tell you to stay inside and he'll get out. 

"You've been driving me up the fucking wall since we left the apartment. What stick do you have up your ass that you're upset about everything!?" He practically slammed your car door as he got into the driver's seat, swatting your bare thigh as you climbed over the console to the passenger side. You scoff, batting his hand away from your legs as you plop into the seat. 

"Nothing, Channie. I'm fine." You grit, yanking the seatbelt a little too hard for him to think you're fine. He sighs, resting his forehead against the steering wheel before he turns to look at you. 

"Y/N, I've known you since we were in diapers. I know when something is bothering you, you're not weaseling your way out of this." What was wrong with you? You're sitting in your old beater car with your life-long best friend, wearing his old cheer shorts and his t-shirt and probably his socks as well. You're on your way home during an unusually warm winter, hence the shorts, and you're nursing a cup of his infamous hot cocoa. The one with actual mini marshmallows, none of that Swiss Miss bullshit.

You'd had a great cheer practice before the break ended, with your coach telling you and Chan to please rest during the holidays – it wasn't exactly either of your fortes. She knew the two of you went home for the break together, and you'd likely be practicing stunts in your parents' basement – but you knew exactly why you were upset and it had nothing to do with cheer and everything to do with the fact that your best friend has had the best years of his entire life while you're being a sulky baby.

You cross your arms, the drawstrings of your hoodie yanked by the seat belt as Chan turns in his seat. "Everyone has bad days, Y/N." "You don't." You mutter, crossing your legs at the knee before you feel Chan's fingers pinch your cheek. "Yes, I do. I don't know where you got this idea that I'm perfect. I'm flattered, but I'm just as human and clumsy as you are." "Yeah, well…shut up." You huff, feeling Chan press his lips to your temple. "Don't be so sour. We're on vacation, let's enjoy it. It's our last one before we graduate, isn't that exciting?" It's not. It makes existential dread weigh on your shoulders, and it's so stupid. It's stupid dread, rooted in misogyny and lies and comparison that is the thief of joy. It makes you hate him, knowing that Chan doesn't have to worry about any of this but you do simply because you have some stupid biological clock that works AGAINST you.

You know once university is over, your parents will start to ask about marriage and kids. You know that they'll bring up Chan, over and over until you tell them for the third year in a row that you and Chan tried it and it just didn't work. 

Freshman year of college between you and Chan has to have been one of the strangest years yet. He had rushed a frat and you helped him move from his dorm into the house – and the brothers made eyes at you until Chan lied and said you were his girlfriend. None of them bought it, so much so that Chan had confessed about it and you were so wide eyed he was scared your eyes would fall out. Once the initial shock wore off, you shrugged and agreed you'd be his pretend girlfriend – that it would definitely get you out of some bullshit.

Simultaneously, it got you into some bullshit.

It was a few weeks before winter break, and you were both drunk at your first frat party. The two of you had been locked away in his room getting high earlier that day, and neither of you were in the condition to interact with anyone else or even go downstairs for more drinks – so you just laid in his bed and giggled about nonsense. He was propped up on his elbow, telling you about how the older brothers had made him pants the president of Alpha Phi and you were just staring off into space while you nodded along.

Until you looked at Chan a little too closely, your head on his pillow as he pushed your hair out of your eyes. He smiled down at you, his fingers tracing the shell of your ear as he continued talking when you sat up and anxiously pressed your fingers to your pulse point, having felt your heart rate spike at just the slope of his nose. Everything felt way too hot and intimate for two best friends.

He'd asked if you were okay, if you needed water – assuming you were too crossfaded to prevent the panic attack that seemed to creep on. You shook your head, screwing your eyes shut as you flopped back down and tucking yourself into his chest. He'd assumed you wanted to be held, so he threw your leg over his waist and ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring subtle praises as you tried to regulate your breathing – but the smell of the weed and your best friend's cologne was just too much and you wound up pushing him away.

"Channie, get away from me!" You'd whined, shoving him back and attempting to pull your sweater over your head. You failed, and he laughed, yanking it over your head the rest of the way. "Are you hot? Should I open the window?"

"You should kiss me, you fucking idiot. How can you tell your entire fraternity I'm your girlfriend and you won't even kiss me?" You'd poked your finger into his chest, your t-shirt rumpled from the sheer force of your sweater coming off. He blinked at you, lip jutted out in a pout. "Well, how am I supposed to know you want me to kiss you when you literally just told me to get away from you?"

"I'm your fake girlfriend! I'm getting zero play from anyone else because they think we're a thing!" 

"Aren't you a virgin?" He asked, sitting up as you smoothed your shirt over your belly, lying back down on your side, propped up by your elbow. "Aren't you? You're my best friend, it's not like we'd hump and dump each other. If we're bad, we can just learn."

Chan had been truly appalled at your words. The two of you had never crossed into this territory, despite knowing everything about each other. You'd been each other's first kiss back in high school, but that was fully a dare from your other friends and neither of you spoke about it again. He dated around with other girls and you had one boyfriend that was shitty, but it was always just the two of you at the end of the day.

"You want me to…" "Only if you want to."

"Are you joking?"

You hadn't been, and you proved that by tugging Chan down by his collar and pressing your lips to his. He immediately reciprocated, pushing you onto your back and shoving your thighs apart to settle between them. He wasn't a bad kisser at all – a little too skilled for your shy touches, but you quickly caught on to his movements as you felt him grow hard. 

"We don't have to do this at all. You know that, right?"

"Chan, I want you to."

He'd blushed slightly as you flipped the two of you over, letting him sit up with you in his lap and quickly pulled your top off. His hands were warm and nervous, but you kissed him again and it felt like everything fell into place. 

The first round was slow and gentle – you were on top, and he kissed all over your chest and face as the two of you got into it. By the third time, you were covered in nips from his teeth and his saliva as he folded you in every position imaginable. He was a young guy with a Costco box of condoms and the girl of his dreams in his bed – he had to commit this to memory. The two of you went at it like starved, depraved lovers – it was nearing seven in the morning by the time he reached into his nightstand and the box of condoms was empty. You were both sober by then…and the reality of your decisions began to sink in as you let him sink into you, raw.

"Y/N…" He whimpered into your neck, entirely too sensitive for this to be happening but you only mewled in response. "Feels so good, Channie, please…"

You only spurred him on, clawing at his back and whining his name as your walls overstimulated him. Every single part of his body felt like it was on fire under your touch, and he relished in the way your teeth sunk into his shoulders and neck as he brought you over the edge repeatedly. 

"Shit, b-baby…I'm gonna.." 

You only wrapped your legs around him, pulling him into you deeper as you kissed the words off his tongue. He tried to kiss you back, he really did – but failed miserably as he came inside you, hips involuntarily working the two of you through your shared orgasm. You kissed him messily as he came down, feeling his hands on your cheeks as he slowed you down, before pulling away fully.

"We need to clean up." He muttered, resting his forehead against yours, your eyes closed as you nodded tiredly. "I don't think I can get up."

You hadn't been able to – Chan wound up carrying you into his bathroom and holding you between himself and the wall in order to help you shower. You were so tired your eyes remained closed for the majority of it all – something Chan was grateful for because he just couldn't stop roaming his eyes all over you.

Thankfully, it'd been a Saturday the day before – so there was no reason for you to leave his bedroom. He gave you the cheer shorts he usually wore, and tugged an old sweatshirt over your head while also stripping his bed of the sheets. He threw your clothes in with it in the wash – and returned to see you asleep. He had so many questions, just watching as you snuggled into his pillow as he sank onto his bed, reaching for his phone to order delivery – only for you to tug him back.

"We can eat later."

"When can we talk?"

You peeled your eyes open for that one, looking at him tiredly.

"You're my boyfriend, Chan. Couples have sex."

"But–"

"I love you. Now, hold me."

And he did. He laid down, and you draped yourself over his chest. His hand went under your sweatshirt, rubbing small circles into your back as the two of you fell asleep. But his mind never strayed from how confidently you said those three little words.

That was one of many nights between you and Chan. You were referring to each other as significant others, subconsciously going on dates, and fucking like there was no tomorrow. He'd get you flowers, tell you how pretty you looked. You'd fluster him with comments of how handsome he was, and you'd spend hours slow-dancing together in his bedroom if you weren't just basking in each other's presence.

Neither of you spoke about feelings, but rough whispers of I love you slipped out often during sex, softer ones when he dropped you off at your dorm (that you were hardly at because you spent all your time with him), teasing ones when he just felt like it. You found it harder to say after the first time – kissing him in response, feeling your cheeks grow hot as he looked at you with said love in his eyes. Sometimes you'd mumble it, only loud enough for him to hear.

You loved him too. You didn't know when it became romantic, you'd never been in love before. But, perhaps if you'd looked deeper – you would understand that feeling like you can hardly breathe from pure excitement when he's around is a tell-tale sign of being absolutely enamored.

Perhaps, you said I love you first – because you were scared that if you let it fester inside you, it'd become too overwhelming. 

It did, anyway.

The two of you went home that holiday break and tried everything possible not to tell your parents anything. Chan's family owned the house next door and only used it when he was home – but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep separately after weeks of constant skinship. You tried for the first three days – only for Chan to sneak into your bedroom and stuff your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet.

Everything had been going smoothly until your parents found out – spotting a hickey on your collarbone that hadn't been there when you arrived. Your mother was the first to question you – her interrogation light over dinner with Chan and his parents.

"So…find any cute boys?" She asked as she poured you a glass of water, one you immediately reached for as you choked on your bread. Chan's eyes widened as they fell on you, spotting the bruised mark on your skin under your t-shirt from across the table. "Mom, what gives? That's so embarrassing." "I sort of asked Chan the same question." Mrs. Lee shrugged, before her hand reached to tug on her son's sweater. "Then I saw this and got my answer."

Two hickies on his chest, and Chan's cheeks burned beet red as he wiggled away from his mother. "Can we not do this?" He asked through gritted teeth, and you only covered your face with your hands as your father snorted.

"We always figured the two of you would end up together. It's just the way it goes sometimes. Friends before lovers is a good way to start a beautiful relationship." He nods, patting your back gently to ease your discomfort. You gave Chan a glare through our fingers, only for him to gawk at you as if you were blaming him for the entire thing.

"We're glad it's you, Y/N, really. I was always worried my Chan would get his heart broken by someone ruthless." Mrs. Lee pinches her son's cheek, making him groan as he moves away. "This is so embarrassing, stop it!"

"We've only been together for a few weeks, so can we drop it?" You mumbled, stabbing your fork into a meatball as your mother glanced your way. "...Sure, honey."

Your parents didn't bring it up again for the rest of your vacation, but things felt a lot more breathable after. You and Chan went out on your own several times – dinner, stargazing, a few hikes. You kissed eagerly behind closed doors, but kept your touching to a minimum in front of siblings and parents. He held your hand as the New Year's ball dropped, and kissed you moments after when his parents looked away. You felt your stomach fill with butterflies at the tender touches, but started feeling antsy as days continued and you couldn't have sex.

He offered to take you on a drive after your parents went to bed, and you wound up fucking in the backseat of his car that night to the sound of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic. It was by far the most desperate you'd ever seen him, and the night you accidentally discovered a small kink of his – one the two of you swore not to speak of again after. Or rather, he asked you not to – but what kind of girlfriend and best friend are you if you don't tease him about his little ticks? You both returned to campus a few days later, and Chan managed to get you naked in his bed before you even unpacked your things. You'd decided to forego buying condoms on the way home to avoid the temptation, but just looking at you was enough to get Chan going and he had no idea how to make you understand that.

Until the spring semester started and the two of you got slammed with essay after essay, lab after lab, pop quiz after pop quiz. It was February by the time the two of you got to spend more than an hour alone – and you had nothing to talk about. You just kissed quietly, feeling each other up for hours until your underwear was soaked through with your arousal and Chan was painfully hard.

"We should break up." You murmured against his lips, and he nodded. "We should. After this, though." "After." You agreed, not knowing that Chan's chest had tightened at your words. Not knowing that he hoped just feeling you around him would mend that pain he felt, and not knowing he hoped he could get you to stay through the night – and break up in the morning. Not the night of his birthday, not the first night he gets to have you again after missing you for ages. Not the day that seems to have completely slipped your mind.

And, it worked. Yet another large box of assorted condoms and half a bottle of unnecessary lube later, you were tucked in his bed again. In his cheer shorts, in his shirt, and with dozens of love bites littered around your body. You kissed him as he slid into bed next to you, your arm draped over his chest as you began to talk.

"I'm sorry if it's sudden. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose you, but we just…don't have time." You had muttered, and Chan fought back tears as he nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I don't want to lose you, either. But if we break up…we have to stay friends, Y/N. We have to." He meant it. Even if it meant he had to break his own heart by spending time with you and not being able to kiss you, caress you, love you, he meant it. You were all he knew – his first kiss, his first crush, his first fake-girlfriend. His first real girlfriend, despite having dated around. His first time having sex, making love, and everything in between. The first woman he'd learned inside and out, and the only woman he wanted to know that way.

If time was the issue, he'd wait. 

But you didn't know that.

Shortly after your relationship ended, Chan found himself restless. His hand wasn't enough anymore, but neither was anything else he tried. He lost interest in porn easily and even wound up sneaking peeks at your Instagram for some sort of relief. He resorted to asking one of his frat brothers what he should do – and Wonwoo calmly looked up at him and said, "You fuck someone else."

Chan hadn't been sure what to do with that information. He wound up going to cheer practice early that day, only to find you doing stunts with Minghao, a fellow spotter and one of his frat brothers – his hands tightly gripping your waist as he threw you up in the air. He catches you swiftly, and Chan only feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment as you eagerly compliment Minghao on his skills, your hands gingerly wrapped around his biceps – your nails still the soft pink he chose not even a month before.

It was too much touching for Chan's taste, and he wound up turning right back around and skipping practice, sneaking out of the gym before either of you could see him. When Minghao arrived at the frat after practice and saw Chan in the kitchen, he asked him where he'd been – that you'd asked for him and wanted him to help Minghao with your stunts. Chan simply clicked his tongue and shrugged, "Was busy. She can figure it out." Minghao had been a bit taken aback by his comment, but said nothing as Chan practically pushed past him. There was a party a few days after that, with both you and a bunch of random girls in attendance – mostly girls from the fraternity's sister sorority. Chan had one up in his bedroom within the hour, and another two hours later.

You went home after seeing him take the first one upstairs.

After that happened, and Minghao spoke to you about Chan's behavior about the entire stunt situation, you felt a shift in your friendship. Chan became a serial monogamist for a long time – none of his flings lasted longer than two weeks, and he kept them at arms' length. He never mixed business and pleasure – the cheer girls were strictly off limits, much to their dismay. 

But you were the person he drunk texted. Saying he misses you and wants to hang out – and you'd hang out. You'd go pick him up and take him back to your dorm (later, your apartment) and watch movies, get drunk and fall asleep on your couch. He never made a move on you, and you never made a move on him because you were just friends.

So you shoved it all down. You watched him bag girl after girl, you watched him win trophy after trophy. You watched him make the Dean's list every semester, you watched him build unbreakable friendships, you watched everything he touched turn to gold and it made frustration fester inside you.

You struggled a lot after the breakup – from branching out and meeting new guys to your grades tanking just a bit – and it made you feel pathetic. You slept with one other guy, a guy from a different cheer team. You met him at a competition, and it was in the next city over, so you and your team had to get a hotel. You and Chan naturally roomed together…only for Chan to hit it off with a girl from another team, and it led to a heated argument between you and him to see who got the room for the night. He wound up storming out and staying with her, only to come back in the early morning to a locked door and the sound of you and the guy going at it.

Neither of you spoke about it. You didn't speak on the ride home, either – and you ignored him for a week until he texted you and asked if you wanted to get drinks. You agreed, and he apologized for his behavior. You only nursed your cosmopolitan, and accepted his apology with the condition that he buy you an appetizer.

An order of mozzarella sticks and a thing of marinara later, you forgave him. The two of you danced around conversations for a bit, before he offered you a lift home. You gracefully accepted, and he dropped you off at your apartment with a hug goodbye. A hug that lasted longer than any had since the breakup, and you felt…slightly put back together.

Things seemingly settled after that. 

Fast forward to senior year – you and Chan are still inseparable. You're co-captains of your cheer team, he's the vice president of his fraternity and you find yourself there every weekend to help with events if the two of you aren't at a cheer competition. He holds your hair when you throw up and he helps you glue on your false lashes for competition nights. He drives you to places when you're too tired but still want to go out, he tutors you for Organic Chemistry and gives you gummy bears as rewards for getting questions right.

Chan is your best friend, and he makes sure everyone knows – including the girls he gets in his bed every few nights.

Your eyes still lingered on him at parties – the way he'd grind against girls, the way he'd never done with you because you weren't a stranger to him. He'd seduce them with his confidence and kiss them, but never in the way he kissed you. You could see it, how shallow it was to him, before he'd begin moving them towards his bedroom.

But, even now – you miss him. Lonely nights in your bedroom turned into lonely nights in your shared apartment with him, having been convinced to move into a two-bedroom with him as a reward for making it to senior year of university without any major fuck-ups. However, you felt like a major fuck-up – because now this meant he'd bring girls to the shared home.

He hasn't, yet. But, he will. You're sure of it.

It makes your stomach turn to think about it.

"See how much calmer things are when you're not the one driving?" Chan's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you scowl. "Shut up." He only rolls his eyes, but you feel your thighs clench at the way he looks when he drives. You'd gotten used to this sight in many lights – Chan driving you home from an arcade night, Chan driving you home from getting drinks. Chan driving you home from the movies, Chan driving you home from cheer practice.

Chan driving you home after that night he fucked you senseless three years ago in his backseat, whispering how good you felt around him and how he couldn't imagine a life without you in it.

You sigh inwardly at the thought of it, opting to recline your seat and cover your face with your arms. You cross your legs before feeling Chan's hand squeeze your knee, making you jolt as you swat at him. "Stop touching me, I'm sensitive!"

"Your knee is sensitive?" He teases, fingers pinching it again as you groan. "You're pissing me off, Chan."

He only snickers, his fingers brushing up your thigh before you shove it away. "Quit." "Alright, alright. At least put on some music, I need to hear something other than your whining." He holds up the aux cable, and you take it and plug it into your phone. You press shuffle on your Spotify, ignoring the way your cheeks heat the moment Meddle About by Chase Atlantic starts. 

He only turns the volume up.

"You guys are home!" Mrs. Lee greets you by throwing her arms over you, and you nearly stiffen before Chan gives you a pointed look. You hug her back warmly, thanking her for being so excited to see the two of you. "How is school? Still doing well, I hope!" "Doing great, Mrs. Lee. Chan's helping me quite a bit these days." You nod in the direction of her son, who is unloading everything as you shove a stick of gum into your mouth. His arms look great in that long sleeve…he should wear it more often…

"...And your mom made that brown sugar ham you love! Isn't that exciting!?" Mrs. Lee's voice brings you back as you nod quickly, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets as the wind picks up a bit. "Yes! I'm starving, you have no idea. We survived on jerky." Your pout makes Mrs. Lee coo, her knuckles pinching your cheek as she beckons you to follow her into your house. Chan gives you a glare as he grabs your duffel, and you only blow a kiss at him as you follow his mother inside. "Y/N!" Your little sister can be heard screaming from the top of the stairs, and you smile as you turn – seeing her practically fly down them, her arm in a pink cast as she wraps it around you. "Hey, babycakes! What happened to your arm?" "Rosie took a tumble down the stairs last week, I keep telling her to slow down." Your mother appears out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she presses a kiss to your cheek. "Welcome home, darling."

Your sister begins to ramble about everything going on at school with her friends – that Katie has a crush on Hyunjin but Hyunjin likes Minseo and Minseo thinks Katie is too mean to join their coloring circle. All too much for you to process in one go, and definitely too much for her to get out in one breath because she stops the moment you hear Chan grunt, kicking the door open slightly to make his way inside.

"Chan!" She abandons you, and Chan lights up as she runs into him, spinning her around. "Hey, Rosie! It's been so long, oh! What happened to your arm?" 

He kneels down to her height, and it makes your heart warm. Your parents definitely did not plan to have another child so late in life, but Rosie was the easiest kid ever. You remember when they brought her home – you were a junior in high school and you were ecstatic. You'd been staying with the Lees, and they all came over to meet her.

Chan was the only one who pulled you aside and asked how you were doing. You admitted you were a bit overwhelmed, and he wound up offering to stay the night and just talk. His parents allowed it and the two of you ordered takeout and spent the entire night just talking.

Rosie kept your parents young and on their toes – enough that they made friends with other couples in their neighborhood. Rosie was popular, she had lots of friends at school and around the neighborhood – loads of people came to her birthday parties and your home was the designated playdate house. 

You zone back in to see Rosie offering Chan a marker, and you gasp. "No way you're letting him sign before me! I'm your sister!" "But Channie's my best friend." She retorts as you walk over, squatting next to Chan, who sticks his tongue out at you. "That's what you get for not helping me unload the car." "Oh, but you're so big and strong! You're supposed to do it!" You argue back childishly, only for your little sister to stomp her foot. "Sign it! I have things to do!" Chan bites back his laughter as he signs it, before handing the marker over to you. "Do tell, Rosie. What things do you have to do?" "Well, I have a tea party in ten minutes and I do not like to be late. The tea will get cold." She sniffs, and Chan pats her shoulder. "Have fun, pipsqueak." She runs off, obviously over the excitement of her sister and her 'best friend's' arrival. Chan gives you a glance, "Feeling better after having to do nothing?" You shrug, smiling at him. "I appreciate you, you know that." "You have a funny way of showing it." He says pointedly, before tilting his head towards his duffel. "Mom said I have to stay with you this time, my cousins are in town for a few days and they're in my room. Is that cool?" "Promise you'll wear socks to bed?" You hold your pinky out and he sighs, shaking his head as he links your pinky with his. "Fine, but that means you have to wear pants." You smirk, winking at him. "It's my bed, Chan." You stand up straight, shaking your legs out before walking away from him. He shakes his head again, tonguing his cheek as he follows suit. You wander into the kitchen, and your mother greets Chan with a hug. They start catching up about little things as you open the fridge, grabbing a wine cooler for yourself and a beer for Chan, shoving it into his chest and leaving. You hear your mother jokingly ask if Chan wanted the air mattress, and he only laughs before denying it, saying he should help you unpack and get comfortable. She agrees.

"Need help?" He moves to leave the beer on the table, your wine cooler tucked under your arm as you hoist your duffel over your shoulder. 

"Nope." You smile, making your way to your bedroom. Yours is the only one downstairs, and it's in the furthest corner in the house as well. You practically begged your parents for it, insisting it was the warmest room in the house when the winters came about – and once Rosie came along, they let you move downstairs, saying the baby needed to be near them. You'd eagerly agreed and moved out happily.

Chan followed behind you quietly, his own bag over his shoulder as he took a sip of the beer you gave him. He wouldn't finish it, and the two of you would likely swap drinks before either of you had too much of it. As he reached your room, he saw you backflip onto your bed, a groan from your lips as you sank into the memory foam mattress.

"Fuck, this is gonna do wonders for my back." You moaned, eyes closed as you kicked your shoes off. He snorted, putting his beer next to your wine cooler on your dresser before doing the same. "Jesus, when did they get this for you? Your mattress has always sucked." You know he's not referring to the time three years ago that he snuck in, but your cheeks heat anyway as you look at him. His eyes widen, and he clears his throat. "I didn't mean–" "They got it for me last summer." You interrupt, and he nods quickly. "Sorry." "For?" You try to act nonchalant, but you clear your throat one too many times for him to think it's fine. So…he makes it worse. "We never talk about those days, you know. It's not like…it's weird. Right?" Not weird at all. I don't miss the way you felt inside me, nope. Not at all.

"Do you…want to?" You don't mean to sound so bitter, but Chan clicks his tongue. "I mean…it wasn't the worst thing ever. I…liked you a lot." You grimace at the awkwardness, but try and shrug. "I mean…I hope so. We did say we loved each other. A lot, might I add." "I said it a lot, you deflected." He corrects you, and you turn your head to look at him. "Are you doubting that I loved you?" "You wanted to break up on my birthday, Y/N, not even a week before Valentine's Day. Forgive me for assuming." He rolls his eyes, and you sit up. "No, I didn't. Your birthday is on the 11th." "Yeah. You came over on the 11th after we didn't see each other for weeks. We were kissing and you said that we should break up." He props himself up on his elbow, and your brow furrows as you think. 

The two of you managed to sneak a glance or two in during cheer practices, but the days before blurred together because you pulled several all-nighters studying for your anatomy midterm. You remember checking the time before you left your dorm to go spend the night with him, it'd been five-thirty.

On February 11th.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You breathe, and he shakes his head. "What good is it now?" He shrugs, picking at a loose thread in your comforter.

"Chan, I'm sorry." Your hand finds his shoulder, and he gives you a soft smile. "It's fine. You finished the day with me anyway, that was all I'd wanted that year."

I'm sorry for breaking up with you, I wish I hadn't done that.

"I did love you. I still do, you're literally my best friend." You say gently, and Chan's eyes meet yours. They hold something you can't quite grasp, "It's different. Of course I love you, you're my best friend." You feel like your stomach is about to fall out of your ass when Chan shrugs again, his shoulders constricted by the tightness of his top. Your eyes follow the curve of his waist, his sweatpants tied around his hips loosely. "It's just different between you and me now, you know? It's not the same friendship it was before." He rolls onto his back, arms behind his head as he keeps talking. "Sometimes, I think it shouldn't have happened at all. I mean, let's be honest. Between you and me…things have always just been simple. We overcomplicated it by doing whatever it is that we thought would enhance our relationship." You can feel your chest aching with every word, but you can't seem to stop listening. Your eyes burn with tears as you let him keep talking. We?

"I guess it was something of a dumpster fire. Everyone always assumed we'd be something, maybe it's good we got it out of our systems." He nods, before looking at you. His eyes widened, sitting up quickly as you covered your face with your hand. "Y/N–" "You can be really, really coarse sometimes." You mumble, sliding off your bed and grabbing your wine cooler off the dresser. "I'm going to go find my dad, make yourself at home." You tighten your sweater around yourself, flinging the door open and slipping into the bathroom. You refuse to let the tears fall, taking a deep breath before drinking half of your can. You press the cool metal to your cheeks before stepping out, walking out towards the garage to see your father tuning one of his many guitars.

"Oh, you're home! I've missed you!" He puts the bass guitar down, before he frowns. "What's wrong, honey? Are you okay?" "M'fine. Hey." You shake your head, giving him a one-armed hug. He's not convinced, holding you closely. "You can talk to me, you know that." "It's stupid. What are you doing here?" You set your drink down on his workbench, only to see your father's stern look staring down at you. You sigh, running your fingers over the strings of the guitar. "Chan and I broke up." Confusion crosses his features as you take a seat on one of his cushioned bar stools. "I thought you broke up ages ago, sweetie." "We did. That's the problem." You mumble, feeling a tear slip out of your eye and you brush it away quickly, but your father sighs carefully, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You bury your face into his ribcage, feeling sobs rack your body as he hums quietly. Your father had always been the person you went to when it came to Chan, because your mom was convinced you'd be the brute of the relationship – and insisted you were too harsh with your words at times.

"What'd he say this time?" He asks softly, and you wipe at your nose with your sweater sleeve, trying to form it in a way that doesn't expose your entire relationship. "He just mentioned that he felt like our friendship was different now that we'd involved feelings in the past, and that he thinks it's better that we 'got it out of our systems.' He said that he wishes it'd never happened sometimes, who says that?" Your father nods, a frown on his lips as he sighs. "I'm sorry he said those things, honey. I assume he didn't know you still felt some type of way about him?" "I don't." You lie through gritted teeth, but your father knows you far better than that. He pats your shoulder, glancing down at you. "Now, you and I both know that's not true. You called me crying about him a few weeks ago, didn't you?"

You had. You don't exactly remember what you'd said, but you remember it being three in the morning and your mother taking the phone and telling you to get a grip. It only made you cry harder, enough that your father stayed up for the next two hours soothing you over the phone. Chan walked into your bedroom a few hours later and asked if you were okay. You kicked him out of your room out of embarrassment. "Why can't you be one of those dads that kicks the guy's ass for me?" You pout, swatting his arm as he lets out a full bellied laugh. "Because I have two wonderful daughters and a loving wife I need to provide for. If I beat up every guy that crosses you, I'd be sent away. I'd miss graduations, birthdays, anniversaries. Weddings, at some point. I'd hate to miss those beautiful moments." You roll your eyes, and your father smiles lightly. "I also happen to know how to distinguish when my daughter is doing these things to herself. Chan might be saying things you don't exactly want to hear, but that's exactly what you're not doing. You're not talking to him about anything. He can't know how you feel if you're not telling him." You huff, but you know he's right. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. There's nothing to tell him, and if he wants to act like we're better off being as distant as we are then I'm no one to beg for his presence." "That pride of yours will get you in trouble. Knock it off." He says pointedly, before sitting on the stool next to you. "Now, listen to this. I think my tune is still off."

Dinner was always a nice, intimate affair between your family and Chan's. You gather around the large mahogany table your father made years ago, and talk about everything and anything under the Sun. They ask you and Chan about school, cheer, and dating. Rosie talks about her friends and her toys, your mother talks about her restaurant and your father about his music store. The Lees tell you about their dance company, and give you updates on Chan's younger brother, who would be spending the holidays stuck at work. 

Dating spins the table once more, and your father gives you a look that says he'll change the topic if you say the word. Mrs. Lee starts by teasing her son, who flushes beet red and insists he's not looking for anything right now. 

"I still never found out why you and Y/N broke up." Mr. Lee chimes in, and you feel your cheeks grow hot as you grip your fork. Rosie looks between the two of you, her nose crinkled. "Ew! You were boyfriend and girlfriend?!" "No." You answer quickly, and your voice is far too nonchalant for Chan's taste, it seems. He gives you a confused look, and you shrug. "We just didn't work out. It wasn't good for us." "Easy for you to say." He mutters, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. You grimace, and Mr. Lee shifts uncomfortably before you feel the words tumble from your mouth. "Yeah, well when you tell your girlfriend she doesn't love you, it's kind of hard to want to be together." Mrs. Lee's eyes are wide, spluttering over her glass of water as Chan groans, pulling his cap over his eyes. "That's not what I said, Y/N, you're twisting my words." "Am I?" You scoff, letting your fork clatter on the table as you push your chair back. "I mean, seriously, who fucking cares anymore? It's been three years." "Language, Y/N." Your mother's voice is stern, gesturing to your little sister who looks increasingly bewildered. You sigh, closing your eyes as you scoot your chair back into the table. "We just broke up. It's fine. I'm sorry for swearing, Rosie. Bad girl Y/N." You apologize to your sister, who nods slowly.

Chan mumbles an apology to Rosie as well, and the tension is thick as Mr. Lee clears his throat. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Not your fault, Mr. Lee. Sore subject." You shake your head, patting the left side of your chest, as if saying it pains you. He gives you a sorry smile, before Mrs. Lee speaks up. "Will you be fine to room together? I don't want you guys to fight this entire trip, we haven't seen you in so long." "It's fine." You and Chan say in unison, eyes meeting in a glare over the table. "I know how to keep my mouth shut, it's no problem." You add, and Chan scoffs, mumbling something like ridiculous under his breath.

"Alright, that's enough. We haven't seen you guys in four months. We're going to sit here and enjoy this dinner, damnit!" Your mother speaks loudly next to you, making you jolt. Chan apologizes as he sits up in his chair, your little sister wide eyed as your mother shoves a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. You elbow her lightly, and she coughs.

"Sorry, Rosie." Your father makes the rest of the dinner go smoothly. He mentions his store, and tells a story about a guy who came in wanting to learn a few songs for his wife who was in the hospital. Everyone listens intently, and dinner is wrapped up within the hour. You offer to pick up, your mother's tired eyes thankful as she carefully hauls your now sleeping sister up the stairs to bed.

You tongue your cheek as you bid goodnight to the Lees, offering to wrap the cake your mom made in case they want to have a sweet midnight treat. They accept it and you watch them as they make the walk down the lawn to their house. You shut and lock the door, seeing Chan lingering at the bottom of the stairs speaking to your father. They both look apologetic, but Chan's cheeks are tinged pink as he rubs his neck, a habit he developed when feeling sheepish or admitting something.

You frown to yourself, turning back to the table. You gather all the plates, stacking them as you walk around the table. You'd pack the leftovers first, but you had to move everything out of the way properly.

"I'll wash." You hear Chan say, before he takes the plates from your hold. You don't reply, simply moving to gather all the cups and silverware. You dump any remaining drinks down the sink, ignoring the way he scrapes the plates over the garbage can. You move around in silence, quickly wrapping leftovers and moving them into containers, before sliding everything into the fridge and standing next to him as he washes the cups, moving onto the silverware quickly.

"I didn't think it would bother you." He begins, and your hand tightens around the glass in your hand, before you wipe it down with the rag in your other hand. He scrubs the silverware harshly as you mutter, "You assumed." "Yeah, well, I thought we were best friends. I thought I could assume shit and be right." He huffs, and you carefully take the knives from him, swiping the rag over the blades with ease. "You are right." "What?" He looks up from the soup bowl in his hand, and you shrug. "You are right. I guess I just didn't want to admit it earlier, but things are different between us now. It's whatever." You're lying. You're absolutely lying and Chan's face tells you he knows.

"You've always been a bad liar, Y/N. Don't start trying now." He scoffs, and you don't say anything as you dry the forks and spoons, opening the drawer to put them away. He washes the rest of the bowls in silence, but sucks his teeth the moment he grabs a plate.

"Why?" He asks reluctantly, and you raise a brow at him. "Why, what?" "Why are things different?"

You hum in response, drying a bowl as you think.

"For one, you've been inside me." You start, making him cough. "Be serious." "I am serious! Did you not fuck me three ways to Sunday every time I slept over? Did I imagine that?" You snort, and you watch his cheeks flush as he tongues his left one. "Whatever. What else?" "You stopped hanging out with me as much. I would call or text and you'd leave me on delivered for hours, and then get back to me once I was already ready for bed. Or you'd drunk dial me and come over. You used to properly spend time with me, but after that whole dumpster fire, you kind of just hung out with me when you wanted to." You don't intend to sound so hurt as you say this, but Chan's hands slow under the running water. He nods, a soft look in his eyes as he glances at you. "I'm sorry." "What good is it now?" You repeat his words to him, and he looks up at you. "Don't be like that." "You also blatantly made moves on other girls in front of me. If the relationship meant nothing to you, you could've said that. It would've made moving on a lot easier." You say pointedly, before forcing out a humorless laugh. "God, your body count must be in the double digits now. Is it?" He doesn't reply, but you nudge him with your elbow. "Is it?" "Yes."

You shake your head, tonguing your cheek as you open the cabinet and slide the bowls in carefully.

"What's yours?" "Two." You respond shortly, his eyes wide as he looks up at you again. "Two?"

"Problem?" Your brow is quirked as you reach for the first plate, and he shakes his head. "No. I just…" "Assumed it would be higher? Yeah, you're doing a lot of that lately." You roll your eyes, and he scowls. "Can you stop? You had some fault there too, you have to admit that." "I don't see how I'm to blame at all for you just assuming I didn't love you. I spent every waking moment by your side if I wasn't studying or showering, and even then it was like we were glued at the hip. I hardly had my own space, you literally snuck into my room after three days because you couldn't sleep without sticking your dick in me." "Why do you keep talking like the sex was only good for me? Like you didn't enjoy yourself? Because I remember something very fucking different." He scrubs the plate in his hand with vigor, and you let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Maybe I don't remember it that way. Maybe it was only good because I loved you. The other guy was very different." Chan tenses at your words, his hands still under the running water. "Was he?" "Yeah." You nod, but the truth is, you didn't like it nearly as much. He made you cum, sure, but it was missing that…flair. That eagerness Chan always had, the passion he had, the stamina to keep up with you. It was missing the love you had for Chan, and you remember struggling not to ask this random hookup to hold your hand, or kiss you when you came, or to tell you he loved you.

All things Chan did without realizing.

"Mmh." He doesn't speak again, handing you the dishes almost angrily before muttering something about a shower and leaving the kitchen. You wipe down the counter silently, your eyes welling with tears when you hear Chan rustle about. You assume he's moving into the bathroom when you feel a hand on the back of your head, carefully tangling in your hair as you feel his lips brush the shell of your ear.

"You do a really good job of pissing me off, but I won't ever deny that you're the best I've ever fucking had. No one feels like you and no one has made me feel like you have. No one." He pushes you back lightly, storming back out of the kitchen with his shirt in his hand. You get a glimpse of his bare back, the muscles tense as he walks away. You feel your heart racing in your chest, your fingers coming to check your pulse as you take a deep breath.

Some vacation this is going to be.

DECEMBER 23, 7:22AM.

You thank God for the fact that everyone in your house is a deep sleeper, and can't hear how loud your heart is beating in your ears at this present moment.

Chan had taken the edge of the bed closest to the door, something he always did when the two of you shared a mattress. Or rather, the edge of the fucking mattress — he was practically hanging off. You curled into the corner closest to the wall, and stayed there the majority of the night. Chan left your TV on, knowing the white noise of whatever show he put on would lull you to sleep.

However, throughout the night, Chan migrated closer and closer to you – eventually opting to pull you into his chest. Your leg was draped over his hip and your face was nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his soft body wash and the baby powder deodorant he stole from you.

"Chan, get off me." You groaned, pushing the heel of your palm into his shoulder. He scrunched his nose, shoving your hand away before pulling you back in. "Just fucking hold me, will you?" He rested his chin on your head, arms wrapped around you like a boa constrictor attempting to asphyxiate its prey. "Chan, I can't breathe." You're muffled against his ample chest, and he only slightly loosens his arms. You wiggle about, attempting to get comfortable at the very least, when his hand moves to grip your hip.

"Stop." His voice is hoarse as he pushes your hips away from him, which ends with you on your back and his arm over your waist. You sigh, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Seven-thirty-four. Your mother is likely either about to get up or making breakfast right now.

"I'm gonna get up." You mumble, wiping at your eyes when Chan is muttering under his breath. You lean closer to hear him, but he stops. "Speak up, I can't hear what you're saying." "Nothing, go. Eat something." He turns his head away from you, buried into the pit of his arm and the pillow. You raise a brow, turning back on your side. "Why can't you just tell me? Have you always been this difficult?" "Y/N, I'm hard as a rock right now. You can get out or you can watch me take care of it, I frankly don't give a flying fuck." He spits, and you feel your cheeks heat as you clear your throat. You move his arm from your waist, carefully peeling the blanket back to climb off the bed. He lets you slide over him, before his hand shoots out to grab your wrist, yanking you back onto the mattress. You yelp, your back hitting the comforter as he quickly moves to hover over you, his lips crashing onto yours. Your hands fist his shirt, your eyes fluttering shut as he carefully licks into your mouth. 

You let him cup your face gently, his thumb softly caressing your cheek in tandem with the movement of his lips. He pulls away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips quickly before your eyes open and he's looking down at you intently.

Neither of you speak, but you both know what he wants. His eyes dart all over your face, and you feel your cheeks heat as your hand shakily moves to palm him through his sweats. His jaw clenches at the friction, his hips involuntarily rolling into your hand when he shudders.

"Only if you want to." He murmurs, and you nod slowly. "I want to. Take your pants off." He pushes off you, sitting on the edge of the bed and you take the opportunity to kneel on your rug. It's nicely padded, but he scoffs as he grabs one of the pillows and makes you move onto it. He undoes the drawstring, but your impatient hands move to his hips and you pull the sweatpants down to his knees carefully. He hisses at the feeling against his cock, but says nothing as your hand wraps around it.

Your heart is racing as you stroke him a few times, his lip tucked between his teeth as he tries not to buck into your hand. "Don't tease me, please." He breathes, and you feel your lips twitch as you lean forward, spitting on the leaking head and spreading it carefully. You lick a stripe up the underside, following the thick vein with the tip of your tongue, working your hand at the base.

He groans, leaning back on his hands as you flatten your tongue against the head. You swirl it slowly, remembering how much he liked it the few times he let you go down on him. Chan, ever the giver.

"Fuck, baby, please." His hand moves to your head, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you take him into your mouth carefully, hollowing your cheeks as you let his tip hit the back of your throat. He sighs as you start to bob your head up and down, your tongue never stopping its laving as your throat constricts around his tip slightly. You push yourself to take him deeper, your nose slightly brushing his pelvis as he lets out a guttural groan.

“Can you shut up? My parents will hear you.” You pull off entirely, a frown on your spit-slick lips as he nods quickly, mumbling a breathy sorry. He sucks in a sharp breath as you sink back down on him, his hips involuntarily jerking into your mouth, making you gag slightly. "Shit, sorry–" "Just keep doing that." Your voice is slightly raspy, his eyes wide as he swipes your hair away from your face. "A-Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you–" "Do you want to finish or not? I can get up right now." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on the pillow, his hand still in your hair as he stands, tonguing his cheek. "Open your mouth." You do as you're told, instinctively sticking your tongue out as he holds his shaft, a soft moan from his throat before he leans slightly. The hand in your hair moves to your jaw, before a wad of spit lands on your tongue. You feel your cheeks warm, eyes fluttering shut when you feel his tip drag across your bottom lip. His fingers gather your hair again, his voice gentle as it hits your ears. "Let me know if I'm too rough." That's all he says before you feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, hearing him let out a quiet hiss as his tip hits the back of your throat. He's slow with his movements, methodical thrusts into your mouth as your hands rest on his toned thighs, digging your nails into the sides. "Eyes open, baby. Wanna see you." His voice is hoarse as it hits your ears, your eyes slightly watery as you peer up at him through thick lashes. His lips are bitten raw as he looks into your eyes – it proves to be too much for him as you whimper around his cock in your throat. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this." You ignore the way your stomach flutters as he rolls his hips messily, thumb coming to wipe the corners of your mouth from the bubbles of spit. Your hands move up his thighs, shoving his shirt out of the way to watch the way his chiseled torso flexes as he fucks into your mouth. He whines at your touch, his grip on your hair tightening as you notice a faint tattoo on his hip. You file it to the back of your mind as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his release spilling onto your tongue with a whimper.

You move back slightly, his fingers carding through your hair as he softly massages your scalp. "You okay?" His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your tongue on his tip. He pushes you away slightly, before his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling you off your knees. "You're fucking insatiable, you know that?" You shrug, "If you say so." He stares into your eyes for a moment, his own glazed over with a mix of lust and something you can't decipher. He leans forward a bit, brushing his lips to yours. You let out a shaky breath as he nips at them, watching your lower lip bruise slightly. "Pretty. I've always loved your lips." You roll your eyes, going to move away when he presses his lips to yours chastely. Once, twice, three times before his lips travel to your cheeks. He peppers kisses all over your face, making your nose scrunch as he pecks the tip of it.

"I'm sorry about everything yesterday." He murmurs, his hands moving to hold your cheeks. Your hands rest on either side of his hips, and you sigh. "It's whatever. Pull your pants up, what if someone comes in here?" "It's not whatever, Y/N. I hurt your feelings, and it was shitty of me to say those things. Especially when I didn't mean any of it, I was just…" "Angry?" You suggest, and he sighs as he moves to tug his sweatpants over his thighs. He ties the drawstring as he sits back down, your knees now settled on the pillow beneath you once more. "I don't know if I was angry. It's stupid, really. I shouldn't have spoken about it that way, is all. And I'm sorry." "You made me feel like I was just the first notch on your bedpost. You could've told me that was all I was to you, but it wasn't necessary. Not with the way you just started sleeping with other girls so soon after our break-up." The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and he gapes at you as you shift uncomfortably, opting to stand up. You pick the pillow up, fluffing it before tossing it onto the bed and drifting to your mirror. Your lips were a swollen mess, and you wiped at them with your hand before hearing a soft knock at the door.

You glance at Chan, who has a stoic look on his face before he stands up and answers the door. It's Rosie.

"Hey, babycakes." You call over Chan's shoulder, and he moves to the side as she waves. "Mommy told me to tell you it's time for breakfast!" "We'll be right there, pipsqueak. Ten minutes, tops." Chan smiles, and she nods excitedly, before bolting back down the hallway, screaming your estimated time of arrival. You smile to yourself as you yank open your dresser drawer, fishing out a t-shirt.

Chan's hands are on your waist as you root around, and you peer over your shoulder to see a soft glaze of tears over his eyes. Your brows raise in concern, and you twist to face him, your hands cradling his cheeks. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" "Do you ever consider how you made me feel? Or how you make me feel when you say things like that?" His voice is thick, and you feel your eyes begin to sting as your lips part. You shake your head slowly, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"Did you think about what I said last night?" He asks softly, and you avoid his eyes as you sigh, nodding your head. "You know that's not just about sex, right? That's about everything, ever. You're the only person who has ever made me feel that way." "What way? Like you need to fill a void? I get it, I'm shitty for breaking up with you on your birthday." You mutter, and he tilts your chin up to look at him. His eyes are still glossed over but hold a stern look.

"In a way that I feel like I can't fucking breathe without you. Nothing means anything to me since we broke up, but just a crumb of your attention makes me feel fucking insane. I don't think you understand how much you and your moods and the way you talk affects me. Everything about you drives me up the wall with want and need and I need you to understand that."

Your voice is lost on you, your throat constricting as he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumbing at the small hoops he's never seen you without. "I look for you in every girl I've been with since. Every single one, and none of them compare. None of them are as stubborn as you are, none of them give me shit when I do something stupid. If you want to talk about sex, fine. I've never finished, not once. None of them feel the way you do, none of them kiss the way you do. Not a single one of them can I close my eyes and have their body burned in my mind, not the way I have yours. Not a single one has filled the spot you left, and I'd rather die an honest death and tell you that no one ever will if it's not you." Your lip is quivering as you look away from him, and he rests his forehead on your shoulder as your arms drop to your sides. "Please, please tell me you feel the same." You can't. You want to, you feel the ache to fill his cup until it overflows deep, deep in your stomach. But you're scared this is just for the moment, the fact that the two of you are away from any available hook-ups within a ten-mile radius. You're afraid that this is something temporary, just like the first time – but this time, with the intent of ending.

You hadn't wanted to call it quits then. You hadn't but it was the right thing to do – no matter who chastises you for it. You'd known, in your heart, that Chan was the person you are destined to love forever – whether you knew it then, drunk and high that first night in his bedroom, or in the backseat of his car, or even that time under the bleachers at a national cheer competition…it doesn't matter. Whether you knew it'd be in this pathetic way, doesn't matter. You know now.

He's looking for a good time, you tell yourself. And you may be a good time, a great time, even – but you won't do that to yourself. "It took me two years to move on." You don't recognize your own voice, thick with tears and a bitter taste in your mouth. "Two years, and you fucked Chaeyoung in your bed because you saw Minghao and I doing stunts together and got jealous for no reason. You fucked Chaeyoung and Seonmi, within an hour of each other. You didn't even wait a month."

He doesn't speak, nodding his head in silence against your shoulder as he pulls you impossibly closer. His chest is flush to yours, and you can feel his tears soak into your collar. 

"All because you didn't want your fraternity brothers to flirt with me. All of this, years of pining after you, yearning for your touch, missing you in my fucking bed, because you're a jealous asshole who can't stand the idea of not being the only guy in my life. All of this, Chan, because you wanted to say that I didn't love you when I don't think I've ever been able to think of a future with a man that isn't you."

His hands grip your sides tightly, your own pushing against his shoulders as you let a choked sob fall from your lips. His eyes are just as red as yours, his cheeks just as tear-stained as yours. Heart, just as broken and empty of you as yours is of him.

"It's not fair to me. Not when I'm still hurt, not when I can still taste you in the back of my throat. Not when you ignored me for girls and drinks, not when I called my dad in the middle of the night because you weren't home and I'm worried that you're not answering my calls. Not when my mom thinks I'm the brute here, when it's you." He nods, eyes closed as he squeezes you in his arms. He rests his forehead on yours, "They're waiting for us. Wash up quickly." Your stomach sinks, but you feel your heart pick up a bit as he places a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. "I love you." You don't say it back.

Breakfast had been awkward, to say the least. You went to the kitchen after an hour, the two of you lying through your teeth to your parents about your red-rimmed eyes. Your father gave you a hard look, and you were set to clean the table after breakfast when Mrs. Lee offered to take you Christmas shopping.

"We can make a day of it, I miss my girl." She smiled sadly, and you'd only felt your cheeks warm as Rosie insisted she come along. Mrs. Lee agreed, and even roped Chan into coming, as well – his hesitance making your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

He'd sat on your bed as you got ready, watching you tug on a nice sweater and a form fitting pair of winter pants. It'd begun snowing lightly during breakfast, and your father had suggested you layer up – though he was sure the snow wouldn't stick. You and Chan hardly spoke as he watched you get dressed, his eyes trailing your naked body shamelessly. He helped you put on your winter coat, and carefully helped you put on your watch – a gift from his mother one year. He picked your rings, mumbling about which ones fit the aesthetic of your sweater the best. The casual intimacy of it all was eating away at you, only for Chan to run his hand through your hair and kiss your cheek.

A silent vow that he'd earn you back, you both understood.

Mrs. Lee was a chatterbox – she made Chan sit in the back with Rosie, playing with the Barbies she insisted on bringing as she updated you on everything going on at the dance company. You and Chan had been enrolled as kids, Chan becoming a far better dancer than you were – but the two of you excelled the same amount when it came to gymnastics. Chan begrudgingly abandoned dance to cheer with you in high school, but he quickly became enamored with the sport.

Rosie stomped her feet as you asked her to leave the Barbies in the car, only agreeing when Chan said it'd be a shame if she lost them. You rolled your eyes as she asked him to pick her up, but he did so anyway, her pink cast scratchy against his neck. "Rosie, you know Channie's my best friend, right?" You teased her, earning a huff from the pouty six-year-old. She stuck her tongue out at you, earning a surprised laugh from Chan as he saw her in the reflection of a car window. The wind was biting, and you found yourself hovering behind Chan. As the four of you entered the mall, Rosie asked to be put down – only for Mrs. Lee to pull her close, holding her small hand within her ringed fingers as they wandered into a toy store.

"Cold?" He asked, snaking his arm around your waist. You shrugged, but your teeth chattered as you tried to speak. The two of you laughed in unison, Chan carefully swiping your hair out of your eyes as the two of you walked forward. You try not to let your face react as he interlaces your fingers.

"Did you get your mom's gift yet? I know your dad's is in the car, and Rosie's are all in my duffel." "Shit, I knew I was forgetting one. I got your parents tickets to a cruise, I need to print those, too." You tap your temple, and Chan gasps. "I'm their son, you can't get them a better gift than me!" "What did you get them? A picture of you in a frame from the thrift like you did in grade nine?" You roll your eyes, and he huffs, squeezing your hand. "No, I got my mom a few pieces of jewelry and my dad just wants a lawnmower." He rolls his eyes, and you snicker. "What'd you get me?" "My presence is your present." "Pretty shitty present, Chan." "Hey!" The two of you continue to bicker as you make your way to a few different stores – you swipe your card far too many times for you to count. Chan carries all your bags as you skip ahead of him, holding a cup of hot chocolate for your little sister as you find Mrs. Lee filed away with her in the back of a jewelry store. "What've we got here?" You squat down to Rosie's level, and she pulls her short hair back to show you her ears. "Mrs. Lee got me earrings like yours!" A pair of thin gold hoops sit in your sister's ears, and you glance up at Mrs. Lee with a pout on your lips. "You didn't have to do that, Mrs. Lee. I would've bought them for her." "Nonsense, it's the holiday season. I have her studs in my purse, don't let me forget to give them to your mother when we get back." She gives you a stern look, before glancing behind you, a smile on her lips. "Y/N's got you busy, huh?" Chan feigns annoyance as he huffs, "You could say that. What's going on here?" You turn to tell him when you see Rosie peeking into one of the bags before you cover her eyes. "No peeking! You'll see it on Christmas, babycakes." "Just one! Please, please, please!" She holds your hand in her sticky one, likely from any snack Mrs. Lee would've bought her at one of the stands. You grimace, before sighing. "Okay, one. When we get home, okay?"

"But I'm sleepy." She pouts, and you ruffle her hair. "Then you take a little nap in the car. You can use my coat as a blanket, okay?"

The six-year-old reluctantly agrees, before reaching for the cup in your hand. Chan and Mrs. Lee prowl the store together, their eyes lingering amongst all the glittering jewelry and whispers between them as you get offered a chair by a saleswoman. You tug Rosie onto your lap and ask her about what she did – she sleepily tells you Mrs. Lee took her on the carousel ride at the children's court, then bought her a piece of honey cake at a pastry shop. She yawns as she talks about a few pairs of shoes Mrs. Lee bought her – high top Twinkle Toes and a pair of winter boots to wear as the weather changes. She doesn't manage to finish the hot chocolate as she rests her head on your shoulder, and you finish it off before managing to throw the cup into a trash bin a few feet away.

Chan and Mrs. Lee are speaking to a saleswoman at the register, her eyes a little too heart-shaped as Chan fends his mother off to swipe his card. You hold Rosie close, your eyes watching the exchange as Mrs. Lee huffs, a triumphant smile on Chan's lips as they approach you again.

"Any more places you wanna hit before we go? My fingers are about to fall off." He shows the lines from the bags across his fingers, and you shrug. "You offered, now deal with it." He scoffs, but doesn't get a chance to retort as Mrs. Lee interrupts him.

"We should get going, actually. They did say it was going to storm pretty bad tonight." Mrs. Lee winces as the saleswoman walks up to Chan with a receipt, your eyes narrowing as he quickly tucks it in his pocket. Mrs. Lee speaks up again, "Kind of an odd thing to say, though, because it's been unusually warm." "First snow always sneaks up on us on years like this." You sigh, shaking your head as the four of you walk out of the store. You pick Rosie up, holding her on your hip as Chan shifts all the bags to one hand to push your hair out of your eyes.

"You guys are so cute!" An older woman compliments you both, just as Mrs. Lee appears next to you, her eyes slightly wide as Chan tucks your hair behind your ear. His cheeks tinge pink as his mother gapes lightly, but she says nothing as you walk towards the exit. You pull Rosie's hood over her head as you reach the doors, and tug her scarf up to her eyes before bracing the cold air. "Fuck, it's cold." You hear Chan mutter as Mrs. Lee shudders, her gloved fingers fumbling with the key fob as the car comes into view. You shiver as she pops the trunk, watching Chan carefully put everything in it as Mrs. Lee slides into the driver's seat, turning the heat on blast as she turns the engine on. You carefully slide Rosie into her carseat, trying not to wake her as you click her seatbelt in place. You slide your coat off, shivering immediately in the biting wind as you cover her lap with it before shutting the door quickly. 

Chan's eyes are wide as he sees you crossing your arms over your chest, your scarf the only layer protecting your neck as he nearly rips his coat off and wraps it around you. "Are you insane? Do you want to get sick?" He doesn't let you reply as he ushers you to the passenger side, nearly shoving you into the seat and all but slamming the door. He closes the trunk before getting into the backseat, his nose red from the cold. You glance at him through the rearview, watching him blow into his hands as he meets your eyes. He looks at you pointedly as Mrs. Lee pulls out of the parking spot.

You look away.

"So." Because your mother is at her restaurant editing the holiday menus and Chan has taken the rest of the day to spend time with his cousins, you've asked Mrs. Lee to help you pick out your Christmas Eve dinner dress. She is sitting at your desk as you model options for her, the current cranberry red dress a bit too short for her taste. You frown as you change in the closet, "So, what? What's up?" "When are you and Channie going to figure this out? I mean, it's been years." She sighs, and you hear her rustle through one of the shopping bags. You step out to see her holding the dress you bought for New Years' dinner, the black glitter mocking you as you sigh. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Lee." You smooth your hands over a forest green sweater dress with gold accents, before turning to her. "This one?" "You know what I mean, honey. There is still something between the two of you, don't think I didn't see the way he practically tore his coat off earlier." She shakes her head at you, and you scoff. "That doesn't mean anything, he's just a gentleman." "Yeah? Then what was last night's outburst about?"

You freeze, your hands fisting the dress as you go to pull it over your head. She peers at you through the full-body mirror, her eyes so reminiscent of Chan's. You purse your lips, looking away and at your socked feet as you slowly make your way over to her. You perch on the edge of your bed, "I don't want you to think less of me." Her hands hold your cheeks gently as you feel a tear roll down your face, her eyes wide and worried as she shakes her head. "Honey, I could never. You're such a smart and wonderful young woman, and you've always treated my Chan so well. You've been his biggest hypewoman, I could never think anything but the best of you." "I was the one who broke up with him, on his birthday." You say shakily, "I didn't remember it was his birthday, but that's on me. I just…I thought I was doing the right thing. I broke things off because I wanted us to focus on school. We were so busy after we went back from break that we didn't see each other unless we were at practice, and it was eating away at me." You wipe your eyes, Mrs. Lee's hands now folded in her lap as she listens. "No one can be upset with you for doing what you felt was best, honey." "Chan was." You scoff out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you sniffle. "He still is, I guess. We got home and we sat down in here for a bit, and we talked. He said that maybe it was better this way, that things had always been 'easy' between him and I, that involving feelings wasn't the best move. That our relationship was a dumpster fire, and that he's glad we got it out of our systems because he wishes it never happened sometimes. That he…felt like I didn't love him." You trail off, feeling a surge of tears roll down your face as you wipe at your nose with your sweater sleeve. You glance at her, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tilts her head. "And he moved on. I didn't. So…I don't know if it's fixable. I'm sorry to disappoint you, if you thought Chan and I would be something of a forever as anything more than just friends." You give her a sad smile, and she quietly sighs.

"He called me a few days after his birthday that year, you know." She nods, looking at her nails before she flicks her hair out of her face. Your eyes widen as you sit up slightly, "He did?" "He was a mess." She laughed softly, running her hands down her jeans. "He cried and cried, I remember asking him if he wanted me to go up to the campus. I was so worried about him, until he told me that you two weren't seeing each other anymore. Just a boy needing his mother because the girl of his dreams broke his heart." Her voice is slightly teasing, but your heart sinks. "What?" "Oh yeah, honey. Channie's not very good at hiding his feelings, we knew he liked you since you were kids. We figured it would take him a bit to realize it, but once you two came home for the holidays that year, it was like he was a different person. He walked in with so much confidence, not that he needed anymore." She snorts, and you laugh softly. "He just seemed happier, a lot brighter. Like he does when he dances." You feel your chest ache as you look away, her hands finding yours. "I know that in there, somewhere…there is a love waiting to be let loose again. I know maybe then, it was the right thing to do. I know you wouldn't have done it if you didn't think you had to, I've known your heart since you were a little girl. I know it's kind and strong and you're a good person, Y/N. Don't think about it too much, I know you've both felt that pain but trust me when I say, there is no life without pain. All I can tell you is to live without regrets." She squeezes your hands, and you sigh shakily, your eyes still letting tears flow. "What if we break up again?" "Then you can always say you tried." She shrugs, "You're Y/N, he's Chan. If I know anything, it's that you're both hard headed and you never give up on anything. Why make your relationship the first thing?" She gives you a warm smile as you nod, and she glances at the sweater you have on. "Maybe not this one, either." She wrinkles her nose, and you scoff in mock offense. "I've tried everything on in my closet! Why don't you pick something for me, then?" She grins as she gets up, skipping to your closet and rustling about. You check your phone, seeing a few missed messages from Chan.

Msg From: Chan 💗 [5:33PM] dude these guys SUCK [5:34PM] come hang out with me :( [5:34PM] i'm sick of this shit, soonyoung keeps making spitballs?? are we fucking thirteen??

You snort, watching as Mrs. Lee drapes a few options over her arm. Msg To: Chan 💗 [5:55PM] can't, hanging out with ur mom [5:56PM] do you want to take a drive later? i think the temp went back up a bit and it's not as windy

Msg From: Chan 💗 [5:57PM] oh so you hate me??? you get her tickets to a cruise AND you're hanging out with her? do you just wanna paint me as a bad son??? [5:57PM] i'd say yes but i don't think i'll be back until right before dinner :( but tomorrow after dinner at your mom's restaurant? maybe we can catch a late movie or something.

You don't get a chance to reply as Mrs. Lee whispers a small aha! She rustles around a bit more before coming out with only one dress, one you hadn't worn since you bought it because you never had an occasion. It was a long, champagne colored dress with a sarong skirt and long sleeves. The skirt was carefully ruched at the hip, before flaring out in an open slit. It had a sweetheart neckline littered with rhinestones, and you winced as you ran your fingers down the fabric.

"It's not too showy for dinner? We're just going to the restaurant." You sigh, thumbing the stitching. Mrs. Lee scoffed, "Your mother has worn far more extravagant things than this, do you remember when she wore a ball gown to New Year's last year?" You snort, thinking back to the way you hide your face as you walked into the Lee home last year. Chan made a comment under his breath about how insane the baby blue dress was, but everyone was more or less a fan. 

You also remember the way his hand slid a little too low on your back that year as rang in the new year with a hug.

Looking up at Mrs. Lee, she gives you a mischievous smile. "Go on, try it on! And we can do some hair and makeup stuff before we have to have dinner!"

Needless to say, your mother did a double take when she arrived home and saw that you were fully dolled up at the hands of Mrs. Lee. Her jaw dropped as she took in the wine red lipstick you stole from her bedroom and glittery eyeshadow, before a huge smile overtook her face and she rushed into your room to talk. It holed you away in the bedroom for another hour and a half before you graciously kicked both women out for just thirty minutes alone before dinner.

You stood in front of your vanity, dress hung back up your closet and a sigh filled the room as you reached for a makeup wipe. You peered at yourself, Mrs. Lee's words filled your mind as you ran your hands through your hair. Pursing your lips, you tie your hair back before hearing a knock at the door, and Chan opens it slightly.

"Hey. I'm home." He's not looking at you as he tugs his coat off, a sigh from his lips as you quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't sound very happy." "I'm just tired, I don't remember what it was like to shoot the shit with those guys." He scoffs, throwing his jacket over the back of your desk chair before sitting in it. His eyes widen as he finally looks at you, "You look pretty." "Thanks. Mothers." You shrug, before reaching for the makeup wipe you abandoned in order to tie your hair back. "Wait, wait, let me see." He reaches for your hand, pulling you towards him. You roll your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed, your other hand on your knee as he looks at your face.

"Why haven't you ever worn this lipstick before? It looks really nice." His thumb pulls at your lower lip, before you swat his hand away. "Stop that, someone could walk in." "Then lock the door? I'm just looking at you." He rolls his eyes as he stretches, "Did you figure out what you're wearing tomorrow?" "Barely. I'm still overthinking it, but the Moms said to go for it so…we're going for it." You shrug, and he raises a brow. "Do you want to show me? Maybe a third opinion could help settle it." "Nope." You grin, before standing up to move back in front of the vanity. His hold on your hand pulls you back, his other hand snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. You huff as he kisses your shoulder, "Chan. Seriously."

"I missed you." He pouts, leaning his cheek on your shoulder as you roll your eyes. "Yeah, well…" You trail off, your cheeks heating as he smiles up at you. He's about to say something when you hear a knock at the door, making you jump in his hold. You rip yourself away from him, nearly stumbling as you rip the door open. It's Rosie.

"Ooh, you look pretty! Can I try?" She hops into your room, puckering her lips as she looks into your vanity. You snort, "Hello to you, too. Do you come with a message or just demands?" "Dinner in ten minutes. Can I try now?" She jumps in front of the mirror, and you roll your eyes as you motion for Chan to hand you your makeup bag off the edge of the desk. He does, and you root around in it for the lipstick, pulling out a lip brush as well. You squat in front of her, "This is Mom's lipstick, okay? We can only use a little bit." She nods, letting you carefully trace the brush around her lips. You turn her around in the mirror when you're done, lifting her up slightly. "You like?" "I like!" She smacks her lips loudly, and you smile inwardly as you set her down. "Can I wear this tomorrow, too?" "If you ask Mom and she says yes, we can talk about it." You shrug, and she nods quickly, before grinning at herself in the mirror one last time. "Okay, bye! Thank you!" "Bye, babycakes." You laugh, closing the door as she runs out. You give Chan a glance, rolling your eyes as you reach for the makeup wipe. "Gotta love that kid." "Don't take it off." He pouts, standing up to slide next to you in the mirror. You scoff, "Why? You're just gonna stare at me over dinner and everyone's gonna think something that isn't." He huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder as you carefully wipe at your eyes. You peel one open, seeing him pouting in the mirror. You struggle not to roll your eyes as you turn your face to look at him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Stop pouting, it's not a good look on you." His eyes are wide as you continue to wipe the makeup off, his hand coming to ghost over your jaw as he makes you face him. "I missed you." He repeats, before nuzzling his nose against yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips brush yours, before he whispers against them.

"I love you."

And just like this morning, you let him. You let him slot your lips together in a tentative kiss, your heart beating wildly in your chest as he turns you around, pressing your back into the vanity. His hands move to hold your hips gently, his fingertips barely breaching the hem of your shirt as he pulls away. He doesn't move back much, brushing his lips against yours as he squeezes his fingers against you softly.

"Will you at least let me try to win you back?" You feel your skin grow hot as you look away, and your heart flutters in your chest as he cradles your face softly in his warm hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Please?" You want to tell him there is nothing to win back, you'd always be there. If time was the issue, you'd wait – no problem. But there is that part of you that's hurt that wants him to fight for you. The part of you that wants him to beg for you back, the part of you that wants him to hold you tight and cry with you about how stupid he's been when you've been equally as stupid. Maybe in a different way, but you're both idiots in your mind.

You look into his eyes through thick lashes, the heat of his gaze making you want to melt into the ground. Chan, despite the history between you two and his bad habits, had always been both the angel and the devil on your shoulders. He could lead you down any path and you'd blindly follow, but you knew you were the same for him. The truth of it all was that your trust in Chan has never wavered, even when the pain of his actions settled into your bones.

"Okay." "Promise?" His eyes are wide as he holds his pinky out, and you sigh, closing your eyes as you nod and link your fingers. "Promise." You both kiss your thumbs and touch them to each other, before you wipe the stamped lipstick off his cheek. "Don't tell your parents anything or I'll get Soonyoung and Mingyu to put snow down your pants tomorrow." He rolls his eyes, "You still haven't let me introduce you to them, so good luck. I wasn't going to tell them in the first place, anyway, because they'd make me go to my room after Dumb and Dumber go back into town tomorrow afternoon. I still can't believe they didn't ask for the holidays off."

You roll your eyes, moving the makeup wipe to your lips as he traces circles into the skin of your hip under your shirt. "Double pay, probably. My mom is shelling out double pay at the restaurant these next few weeks." He hums in response, "Did my mom say anything I should know about?" You snort, "Wouldn't you like to know." "I would, thank you. Tell me." "I have to wash my face, Chan." You give him a pointed look as you push past him, moving to your bathroom as he sighs, trailing after you. "Okay, you can wash your face and speak." "Chan, get out of my bathroom. They're probably waiting for you at the dinner table." "If they're waiting for me, they're waiting for you." He reminds you, leaning against the doorframe. You huff, reaching for your face wash as you turn the faucet on. "Go. I'll be out in a minute." He sighs, before pushing off the doorframe and leaving without a word. You feel your chest heavy with worry as you lather your face wash into your skin, but you force yourself to push all your rushing thoughts to the back of your mind. If Chan is making the moves to make things right, you have to at least give him his flowers for that. He wouldn't pull a fast one on you, he's not that kind of guy.

Right?

DECEMBER 24, 6:05AM.

Dinner between the two families had been rather entertaining. Your mother was enamored with the earrings Mrs. Lee got for Rosie, and the parents discussed carpooling groups for the Christmas Eve dinner at your mother's restaurant. You and Chan would be the only ones not lumped into your father's SUV, and you couldn't help the way you glanced at Chan with a wince. He had a slight grimace on his face as he agreed quietly, the two of you holding up the façade of your fight so as to not make anything obvious. He snuck a few kisses to your lips as the two of you did the dishes, before the two of you turned in for the night. You showered and brushed your teeth, only to have to wait for Chan because you kicked him out of the bathroom before he could offer to save water by showering together. He'd pouted, but it didn't matter. There was a line you couldn't cross…and that's it, right?

Either way – Chan had pulled your back into his chest at some point throughout the night, not that you were complaining. Yesterday morning's shenanigans seemed to have continued – but this time, his hand was up your shirt as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt, nipping his teeth against the skin of your neck. You were about to turn over to kiss him when you heard the heavy knock of your father's hand on the door. You nearly shoved Chan off the bed with how quickly you sat up and jumped over him, answering the door with a flushed look.

"Dad, don't do that! I nearly shit myself." You hold your hand to your chest, and your father holds out two cups of coffee. "You have a shower, you'd survive." "Don't be gross." You grimace, carefully taking the cups and setting them down on the dresser. Chan sits up, eyes squinted as he stretches his arms over his head. "Good morning, Chan." "Good morning, sir." He mumbles, before running his hands over his face. Your father gives you a quizzical glance, seeing your eyes a bit low as he snorts. "You guys might want to wake up, the snow outside is insane and Rosie will want you guys to help her build a snowman." "You can't help her? It's barely six." You rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms as your father smooths your hair down. "I'll give you an hour." "Two hours." Chan groans from the bed, flopping back down and tugging the duvet over his shoulder. You snort, taking a quick sip from the steaming white mug. You crinkle your nose at the bitter taste, only to hear your father laugh softly. "Hour and a half. Deal?" "Deal." You nod tiredly, and he nods as he moves to shut your door. "Set an alarm, or I'm coming in here with pots and pans."

You only nod again, holding the coffee cup to your lips as he shuts it tightly. Looking over your shoulder, you see Chan sitting up on his elbows, a scowl on his lips. "Seriously?" "It's the holiday season and they haven't seen us all year, it's only normal that they want to spend time with us." You roll your eyes as you set down your cup, sliding back under the covers as he grunts. "They can't wait until the sun comes up for that? I love our families, but I don't wanna be outside in subzero temps." "It's not even subzero, dumbass. It's like, seventeen degrees out." You rest your head on your pillow, looking up at him with tired eyes. "Subzero or seventeen, it's still the asscrack of dawn." "Never too early to have your hand up my shirt though, is it?" You say pointedly, and he scoffs as you shift uncomfortably in your sticky shorts. "So if I pull your shorts down, you won't be wet? You weren't complaining." "I never said that, but you're complaining about it being the asscrack of dawn yet you're feeling me up in your pretend sleep." You shake your finger in his face, making him sigh as he lays on his side. "Sometimes I just like touching you, okay? It doesn't always have to end in something, baby." "You mean you like riling me up so I'll be the one to pounce. You're not slick, I know your tricks." You drape his arm over your waist as you face away from him, feeling his lips brush the shell of your ear. "So should I continue or are you going to play hard to get?" "You know, you just reminded me to shove snow down your pants. Maybe then you'll calm down."

He scoffs, pressing a kiss just under your ear before pulling you closer to him. You nestle into his warmth, feeling his hand slip under your shirt. He doesn't move it, his thumb caressing just above your navel as his breathing slows. You close your eyes, but not feeling the thick veil of sleep creeping up on you. Huffing, you turn on your back, making Chan stir slightly but he says nothing. You stare at the ceiling, the early morning sun barely peeking in through your blinds. 

"You're thinking too loud."

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you snort. "Sorry, did my thinking disturb you?" "Go back to sleep, we're not going to get a chance to rest until after dinner." He sighs, before you roll onto your side to face him. "I can't."

He hums, opening his eyes with a sigh. "Better start trying, baby. It's been like twenty minutes since your dad left." 

Rolling your eyes, you shift lower to press your face into his stomach. His hand cards through your hair gently, his fingertips grazing the skin of your neck as they dip below the collar of your shirt. "Comfortable?" "It's alright." You retort, making him laugh quietly. "Just alright?" "You don't need your head to grow any bigger, Lee." "Humor me, will you?"

"Never." You huff, fisting the material of his sweatshirt. His breathing slows once more, but yours still can't match his. Frustration festers in your stomach, and you find yourself tracing circles into his sweatshirt before pushing it up slightly, bunching it around his ribcage. Your fingers make contact with his warm skin, drawing shapes into it with your dull fingernails when you feel him softly tug at your hair.

"Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

You scoff, your breath warm against his skin. "Shut up." He only hums, your fingers continuing their tracing when you find yourself pressing your lips to his skin softly. Once, twice, three times as you move around his slim waist. He shifts slightly, a shaky sigh falling from his lips as you nip at the skin around his navel. Your palm pushes his hip down until he gets the hint, moving to lie on his back as you push his sweatshirt higher. Your thighs rest on his as you straddle him, and you feel the outline of his cock against the soaked fabric of your shorts.

You can feel his eyes on you as your tongue pokes out from between your lips, licking a stripe up his sternum before pressing a kiss between his pecs. You pepper kisses across his chest, feeling his breathing ragged beneath your wandering hands. Your thumb lightly ghosts over his right nipple, and you feel him jolt beneath you.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He groans, making you smirk against his skin as you flick the tip of your tongue against his nipple, his hands flying to your hips to hold you steady. "Baby." "Stare at the ceiling or something, stop interrupting me." You shrug, before pulling his sweatshirt higher. "Take this off." He obliges, nearly ripping the piece of clothing over his head before sitting up slightly, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a squeak of surprise, his tongue snaking into your mouth at the opportunity. Your hand snakes up his torso, your fingers pinching lightly at one of his nipples. His hips jerk roughly against you, a moan spilling into your mouth as you pull away quickly, clamping your hand over his lips with a scowl.

"Shut the fuck up! Do you want them to hear you?"

He licks your palm, making you grimace as you wipe it on his shoulder, his hand on your neck pulling you back down to his lips. "I don't give a fuck who hears me as long as you're the one making me sound like this."

"Yeah, well I have shame. Shut your mouth before I put something in it." You snip, but his other hand snaps the waistband of your shorts against your hip. "Yeah? You'll shut me up?" "You're a sick freak." You scoff, shoving yourself off him. "Go lock the door."

His eyes widened as you began to undo the drawstring of your shorts, your thumbs sliding under the waistband with a pointed look. "Hello? Lock the fucking door, Chan." He nearly falls off the bed getting out of the sheets, making you snicker to yourself as you shove your shorts down your legs. You ignore the few strings of arousal connecting you to the ruined cotton and the way the cool air of your bedroom makes you wince, reaching for your phone as Chan slides back into the bed. 

7:15am.

"We only have fifteen minutes." You flick your shorts to the side as you move back over Chan, his eyes wide as he glances at them. "Baby." He breathes, holding them up by the waistband.

"Shut up, I'm ovulating or something." You roll your eyes as a blush coats your cheeks, making him snort. "Or something? Just admit you like it when I feel you up in my 'pretend' sleep." He makes air quotes with his fingers, making you scowl as you take the shorts from his hand.

"Open your mouth, since you can't stop running it." He sticks his tongue out at you, before happily opening his mouth. You stuff the crotch of the shorts into his mouth, ignoring the way his eyes flutter at the taste makes your core clench around nothing. You try not to look at him as you settle yourself onto his chiseled torso, the same faint tattoo mocking you as you try to figure it out. Biting your lip, you gently roll your hips against him, the feeling of the hard muscle against your clit enough to make your legs tremble slightly. He groans around the shorts, his hands moving up your thighs as you grind down against his stomach.

With every rut of your cunt against his lower stomach, you can feel his painfully hard cock poking the meat of your ass. You ignore the way he winces every time, moaning softly around the soaked shorts as his hands move higher on your thighs, his grip only making you whine. It's not long before his stomach is covered in your arousal, your whimpers filling his ears as he covers your mouth with his hand before taking the shorts out of his mouth.

"I can make you cum faster than this." He whines as your thumbs circle around his nipples, but you roll your eyes, "I like it this way." "I know b-baby, but I'm two seconds from blowing in my pants." He sighs shakily as you move his hand from your mouth, pinning it above his head. Your lips brush against his as you lean forward, looking into his glossy eyes. "I'm not fucking you, you have to earn that." "Sit on my face." He breathes against your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of them as you shake your head. "We won't have enough time–" "Two minutes, you know me." He begs, weaseling his arm out of your grip to push you up his torso as you huff. "Chan, it's risky–" "Everything about our entire relationship has been risky, why stop now?" He whispers, and you look at him to see a slightly dejected look in his eyes. He wants to please you, you know he does – and you want him to make it up to you. All those lonely nights missing his face between your thighs like a starved man, all the useless vibrators that got you nowhere near the orgasms he pulled out of you. "Make it fast." You mutter, moving to kneel over his face. He nods silently, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you down, his nose bumping your clit and making you jerk. "Chan!"

"Shh, baby." He murmurs, nosing at your pussy like a dog after a bone. "You smell so fucking good, missed this." 

You squirm as he places a kiss on your clit, your fingers holding onto the metal headboard for stability as he flicks his tongue against it teasingly. He moans into your wet heat, his pouty lips wrapping around your sensitive bud as you force yourself to swallow your whines, rocking your hips against his face, feeling your end coming embarrassingly fast.

"Chan." You breathe out, reaching down to pull at his hair as he furrows his brows, his tongue messily collecting your arousal with soft grunts. "Mmh?" You don't say anything, hoping he just knows what you mean as you let a whine slip, your thighs tightening around his head. He forces them apart, using his strength to grind you against his tongue. You're a whimpering mess above him, your thighs trembling as you fall forward against the headboard. You're gripping the metal with your hands as you come undone with a whisper of his name, feeling your stomach cave in as he keeps licking at you.

A knock at the door makes him stop (and you jerk), his arms holding you firmly against him as he clears his throat. "Yes?" "Are you guys up? Why is this door locked?" It's your mother, and she jiggles the doorknob as Chan laughs, lying on the spot. "I'm sorry, I'm changing! Y/N is about to get in the shower, she'll be out in twenty minutes, I promise." "Tell Y/N to wear leggings under her pants, it's freezing out there." She's not suspicious, and Chan gives you a look of relief as he answers. "Will do! Thank you!" "You're welcome!" The two of you sit in silence as you wait a few moments, before you feel Chan's tongue snake through your folds. You try to push off his face, but your legs feel like jelly as he fucks the tip of his tongue into you. "S-Stop, we have to go." "I bought us twenty minutes, gorgeous. Let me do what I gotta do." He mutters, practically making out with your clit as you squirm away. "Chan, we have to get up." He sighs, his hands massaging your thighs. "Can never relax, hm?" "Be so fucking serious." You scoff, mustering all your energy to get off his face. He watches as you lay on your stomach with a groan, "I can't even get up. Fuck you, man." "Please do. I never want to cum in my pants again, this shit feels so gross." He grimaces, sitting up and running his hands over your thighs, digging his thumbs into the sore muscles. You peek at his pants, your fingers coming to lift the waistband when he swats your fingers. 

"Come on, we have to shower or they won't buy it."

"Any time I've showered with you, you've tried to slide your dick between my asscheeks. I don't trust you." You snort, and he only lands a soft smack to your outer thigh. "It's a wonderful ass, can you blame me? But, for the sake of time and your so-called shame, I'll skip out on it." "Ugh, fine."

Chan stays true to his word, the ten-minute shower consisting of nothing but soft kissing under the showerhead and soapy hands sliding around naked bodies. Him finishing in his pants isn't a lie, either – and you apologize by letting him tongue at your nipples for two minutes. Every touch landing where it's not supposed to, pulling soft whines from each other as tongues slipped from mouths to collarbones before he reminded you that you couldn't mark each other above the neck if you wanted to remain undiscovered.

Chan toweled his hair dry and got changed quickly to appease your awaiting parents, but didn't leave the bathroom without a kiss…or three, to your lips. He lingered a bit as you dried your hair, a warm smile on his face as he watched your scrunched face in the mirror – when you caught his eye. "What?" "I love you." 

He doesn't wait for you to respond, only tucking his coat under his arm as he exits your bedroom. You pretend it doesn't make your knees weak as you pull two pairs of leggings on, and your snow pants. You pretend it doesn't fill your stomach with butterflies as you tug on two pairs of socks and your heavy boots. You pretend it doesn't make your cheeks warm as you pull on one of his t-shirts under your sweater, and you pretend it doesn't make you tingle with excitement as you shove on your coat and tuck your scarf under your chin. You slip out of your bedroom with your lip balm in your hand, only to see Mrs. Lee and your mother scolding Chan as he sits in one of the dining room chairs, your mother's hair dryer blowing hot air in his face. He's wincing as they let him have it, a pout on his lips as he sees you. "Tell them you hogged the hairdryer!" He begs, making you smirk. "I'd be lying, wouldn't I?" You reach out to ruffle his hair, sticking your tongue out at him as you make your way to the kitchen. You see Rosie and your father holding hot packs to their faces, your little sister's nose red from the cold. "Have fun out there, babycakes?" You ask, leaning on the island with a smile as she nods quickly. "Mingyu and Soonyoung helped me make a snowman! You and Channie have to help me, too. It has to be bigger!" "You met Mingyu and Soonyoung already? I haven't even met them!" You feign offense as she nods, your father rolling his eyes. "If you had been up earlier, Chan could've given you a proper introduction." "I was not going to be up at six in the morning to make a snowman, I'm sorry." You shrug, before checking your watch. "It's only eight, how are you guys so chipper?" "We don't have to wash all the dishes after supper. So I guess you're off the hook for not being up earlier." Your mother snorts from the kitchen entrance, a red-cheeked Chan following behind her. He sticks his tongue out at you, making you snort. "Nice hair, man." "Shut up." He rolls his eyes, and your mother sighs as she slides two plates of breakfast food in front of you. "Eat up, we've got a busy morning." You and Chan glance at each other, knowing she means that the entire family has to work to tire Rosie out enough that she takes a nap sooner rather than later. If she goes down later, everyone will be late for Christmas Eve dinner.

Which will make your mother very upset, and God forbid you make your mother upset during the holiday season!

You and Chan practically scarf your breakfast down as Rosie excitedly recounts how Mingyu and Soonyoung kept fighting over what carrot would make the best nose for her snowman. She smiles cutely as she holds up a carrot your father was holding, "But I saved the best one for our snowman, guys!" Your heart melts as she says that, your lip jutting out in a pout as you shovel the last of your waffles into your mouth. You take your plate and Chan's to the sink as she continues speaking, careful not to get your sleeves wet as you wash them quickly. Chan dries them as she gets to the part where Mingyu spit a raisin at Soonyoung, making you choke on your water. Rosie stops mid-story, tugging your father out of the kitchen – insisting she was all warmed up and ready to go back outside. "Save me!" Your father mouths as he allows your little sister to drag him out, making you snicker to yourself. Chan slides the plate into the cupboard, running the rag around the sink basin as the kitchen grows quiet. You swallow the last of your water, only to feel Chan's fingers on your jaw.

"Just a quick one." He utters quietly, his eyes darting to the entryway as you roll your eyes, pecking a chaste kiss onto his lips. He can't help but hold you in place, kissing you again slowly when you hear the door open. You push him away, sliding your empty glass onto the island as Mr. Lee yells into the house. "Get out here!" You both nearly trip over each other trying to exit the kitchen, Mr. Lee shoving two pairs of gloves in your hands as he shoves the two of you out. Chan shivers next to you, looping his arm with yours as you carefully make your way off your porch. You tug the gloves on, giving him the other pair as you brave the winter air.

"It's colder than a witch's tits." You hear someone say, and your head whips around to see two guys sitting in two folding chairs next to an abomination of a snowman, holding cups of coffee between ungloved fingers. Chan rolls his eyes as he tugs you towards them, their eyes averting to you and the one with blond hair nearly spits his coffee out.

"Don't be fucking weird, okay?" Chan says, and the blond one scoffs. "You didn't say she was a fucking bombshell, Chan!" "Maybe because it's none of your business if she is or isn't! She'd never date you, anyway." Chan pulls you close suddenly, and you smile sheepishly at the two men.

"Hi, Y/N." The brunet smiles at you, his eyes trailing you a bit too long for Chan's liking. "Don't look at his teeth, that's how he gets you." Chan covers your eyes with his hand, making you scoff as you pull it down.

"Don't be a baby, Chan." You roll your eyes, before extending your gaze to the men. "It's nice to meet you guys. Who is who?" "Mingyu." The blond one points at the brunet, who points back at him. "Soonyoung, resident idiot.' "Hey!" Soonyoung shoves him, making Mingyu snort. "It's the truth, Rosie made him eat a disk of snow with raisins on it."

You laugh as Chan sulks, making you pinch his cheek and coo. "Don't be jealous, Channie. As long as neither of them is taller than you–" "Suddenly, I need to stretch." Soonyoung says with a grin, and Mingyu rolls his eyes as Soonyoung tugs him up. Soonyoung is only two inches taller, but you find yourself whistling lowly at Mingyu's height.

"You're huge, dude." You look up at him, earning a huff from Chan. Mingyu smiles around the rim of his cup, shrugging as he takes a sip. "You're not the first to say that, but I can fit you in my schedule if you'd like to see what else is big." "Dude, no fair. He doesn't wash his socks, you know." Soonyoung scowls, making you snort. "Yeah? What about you, Soonie?" "Enough! We're out here to build a snowman that's better than your absolute monstrosity, not for you two to hit on my best friend until I vomit!" Chan stomps his foot like a toddler, and you laugh, patting his chest. "Chan, buddy, reign it in! Go get Rosie." He looks hesitant as his cousins make eyes at you. There's a pout on his lips as you pinch his cheek again, whispering in his ear. "Be a good boy and fetch, yeah?"

He should be embarrassed at how quickly his cheeks tinge pink at your words, ignoring his cousins' teasing as he turns on his heel to find Rosie. He watches from his peripheral as they joke with you, how easily they make you laugh and how you fit right in with the duo. His heart warms a bit at the idea of his extended family liking you so quickly, but the idea quickly gets shoved aside as he remembers how flirtatious and greasy his cousins can be. The next two hours are spent with Mingyu and Soonyoung calling you pretty and cute to bother Chan, and you instigating the compliments to get under his skin. Rosie got tired halfway through building the snowman, and made you promise you wouldn't finish it without her. She gave you the carrot for safekeeping, making you tuck it into your jacket pocket as your father hauled her into the house. Your mother and Mrs. Lee made a quick trip down to the restaurant, and your father and Mr. Lee opted to salt the driveways and sidewalks for the dinner trip later that day.

Chan? He's tonguing his cheek as he packs snow in his hand, hearing Mingyu call you gorgeous as you take a sip from his cup of coffee. He chucks it in his direction, hitting Mingyu square in the shoulder. Mingyu stops talking as he feels the impact, his jaw dropping as he sees the snow sliding off the leather of his thick jacket. He wipes the snow off his jacket with a boyish grin, and your eyes widen as Soonyoung quickly throws a snowball at Chan – who dodges it and lands one of his own on Soonyoung's chest.

You snort to yourself as the trio begin to throw snowballs of various sizes between each other, opting to settle in Mingyu's folding chair with your legs crossed. You hold his cup of coffee, before calling out to the men. "Whoever wins gets to help me pin Chan down and shove snow down his pants!" Mingyu smirks, running his tongue over his teeth as he zeros in on Chan – who is gaping at you. "Oh, come on! That's not fucking fair!" "Good luck!" You hold up Mingyu's cup, tilting it towards them as the two men begin to chase after Chan, who has a hefty head start as he hides behind your father's SUV before hopping the fence to your backyard. Your dad snorts as he salts the sidewalk you're sitting on, "You're awful to that boy, you know." "A little snow down the pants never killed anyone." You retort, making him shake his head. "How're Mingyu and Soonyoung? Nice fellas, eh?" "If you count them flirting with me to piss Chan off nice, I'd say so." You grin, and he rolls his eyes. "You're something else, honey. Just talk to the kid." "I do talk to him, Dad. Trust me, I talk. He just doesn't listen." Rolling your eyes, you hear something reminiscent of a battle cry when you see Chan pelting Mingyu and Soonyoung with snowballs as he whizzes past you and your father, making you both double over in laughter as they round the corner into the next neighborhood. It fades to quiet for a moment, before you hear yet another shriek, followed by a fuck yeah!

You and your father look up to see Mingyu holding Chan over his shoulder, thrashing in order to free himself. Soonyoung throws his scarf around Mingyu's waist, effectively tying Chan's legs to the bigger man. Chan slumps against Mingyu, and you almost feel bad as your father shakes his head at you, "Not too much snow, Y/N. Be considerate." "You got it, boss!" You call after him as he shuffles into the house, and Mingyu grins as he presents Chan to you, turning around to show you the defeated pout on his face. "You hate me, Y/N. You hate me and you're going to freeze my dick off with a chunk of snow." "I could never hate you, Channie. But, I do want you to suffer just a bit." You smirk, and he sighs. "Put me down!" "Will you run?" You take a sip of the cup, and Chan's eyes flash with jealousy. "No. But you can't use more than a snowball's worth of snow. Promise me." He holds his pinky out, and you wait until Soonyoung turns around to grab his coffee to peck his cheek. He flushes, but you can just barely tell under his wind-bitten skin. "No promises, Channie." Mingyu manages to wrestle his arms behind his back, Soonyoung just teasing Chan as they all watch you gather snow in your gloved hands. Chan whines pitifully in Mingyu's hold as you approach with a decent amount of snow in your hands and an evil smile on your face.

"Y/N, please. I'll beg, I will! Don't do this–" Your best friend squirms in Mingyu's arms, and you make kissy faces at him as your hand pulls at his waistband. The flannel lining is stark red against the white snow, and Chan braces himself as you press a shameless kiss to his forehead.

"Y/N, don't! I'll buy your breakfast for a month! I won't ever drop you during practice again, baby please–fuck!" Chan thrashes against Mingyu as the snow slides down his legs, having foolishly only worn the snow pants over his boxers. "Oh you fucking hate me, oh my God! Let me go!" He frees himself from Mingyu, who can barely hold himself up from laughing as Chan shakes the snow out of his pants, jumping around like a frog to warm himself up. "Go get in the shower before you get frostbite on your balls!" Soonyoung calls after him as he races into your house, making you snort as you finish off the last of Mingyu's coffee.

"Love that guy, he's so easy to torture." You roll your eyes as you take Mingyu's chair once more, earning a warm look from Mingyu. "How long did you guys date back then? He only told us so much." You shrug, "Couple months. A really good two months, but…just the two."

You toy with the cup, before Soonyoung sighs. "He's a good kid. Please don't break his heart again, I don't think he can take it." He rubs his neck, and Mingyu nods, kicking snow off his boot. "It's funny that we've never met you until now, Chan has talked about you as long as he's been able to."  The statement makes you snort. "Yeah, well. Chan's a jealous guy, that's how we even started dating in the first place. He didn't like that his frat brothers were making eyes at me when I helped him move in, but I guess he just never understood that…" You trail off, clearing your throat when Soonyoung finishes your sentence. "Understood that he's the only one for you?" He tries, and you sigh, nodding. "Yeah." "That's cute. Like, so cute. Adorable, even." Mingyu teases, and you lightly punch his shoulder. "Shut up." "I always thought Chan would end up with you. The amount of times we'd have to kick him off the Playstation because he'd talk about you instead of playing his turn was insane." Soonyoung scoffs, taking a sip from his cup. "I think I've heard your favorite color at least eighty times in my lifetime, tell me it's still green." "It is still green, ha." You smile shyly, and Mingyu lies down in the snow, staring at the sky. "Well, it's nice to know Chan has someone who clearly cares. I know you guys broke up because of school, right? Too busy and all that." "I felt so overwhelmed. We broke up and he made the fucking Dean's list, I was crushed when I didn't. Then again, Chan's always been better at masking how he feels when it comes to…things between us." Shrugging, you feel the heat of Soonyoung's gaze.

"Finding out about all those girls must've gotten to you, huh? He was an idiot, I told him he was when he talked to me about it. He cried, too. Dumbass." Soonyoung rolls his eyes, and your own widen. "He cried? Why?" "He told me two years ago, I think it was summer. I came up here, but you'd gone to a cheer camp for a few days and you came back the day that I left. We got drunk in the backyard and he cried his eyes out about you, and how none of the girls compared to you." He shrugs, and Mingyu pipes up. 

"I was there, too. My best friend was apparently the one who told him to fuck other girls, I cannot tell you how big of a fight we got into when I confronted him about it. It was so ugly, and I was pissed for so long."

"Wonwoo is also one to fucking talk, he's been stuck on one of my friends for ages. Last time he visited, I swear he lost his mind seeing her in her bikini." Soonyoung scoffs, and you nod quietly, "Chan is a dumbass, you're right."

"How long did it take you to move on? Did you?" Mingyu asks, propping himself up on his elbows. You frown, shaking your head. "I slept with one other guy, a year ago. It was okay, but you know." "It wasn't Chan." Soonyoung says softly, and you only slump in your chair. "I felt so pathetic. I still do, sometimes. It's hard not to think about those other girls when he's constantly just…there. He's both the angel and devil on my shoulder, he's consistently encouraging me but then he comes home for the holidays with me and he hurts my feelings." Mingyu sits up fully, a furrow on his brow as he looks at you.

"What do you mean?" "Ugh, it doesn't matter. It was stupid, and he apologized but now…now he's acting like he's in love with me, still. And I…don't know how to take it, or if I should believe him." You murmur, covering your face with your hands as Soonyoung hums. "Well, what did he say to make you think he's still in love with you?" "He said it, verbatim. He says he loves me, he said he wanted to try to win me back. He said that nothing meant anything to him after we broke up, and that he's looked for me in every girl he's been with since." Your voice is slightly muffled by your gloves, and you miss the endeared glances Soonyoung and Mingyu share.

"Then there you have it, Y/N. Not much to question when he's so outright, is there?" Soonyoung speaks around his cup, and you sigh, pushing yourself off the chair. "I guess…I don't know. We're taking a drive after dinner tonight, we might talk then. When do you guys leave?" "In about two hours. But, give us your contact information, you're funny." Mingyu holds his phone out, and you roll your eyes but quickly type in your information. Soonyoung hands you his as well, and they both send you a text to confirm their numbers. You give them each a hug goodbye, with Mingyu pinching your cheek and telling you to just go with the flow. Soonyoung ruffles your hair and tells you that at the end of the day, Chan is just a man and no matter how much you love him, you've got to put yourself first.

And you agree.

You don't get a chance to check in with Chan after saying goodbye to his cousins, because your father ropes you into waking Rosie up and helping her get dressed for dinner. You're holed away in her room, carefully curling her hair when she asks you about Chan.

"Do you hold hands with him?" She asks you suddenly, and you look at her in the mirror, the bathroom light making her dress glitter brighter. Hers was a soft ivory color, likely one to match your mother's. Your father had told you he'd get a champagne tie and pocket square so you'd all look cohesive, and you'd agreed as he left you to babysit Rosie – only for your mother to bang around in the kitchen moments after he left.

"With who, babycakes?" "With Channie, Y/N!" She whines as you spray her hair, and you snort. "Sometimes. When we cross the street, or sometimes just because. He's my best friend, we can do stuff like that." "Have you ever had a crush on him, Y/N?" She wiggles her eyebrows in the mirror, and you laugh, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Yeah, I have. You can have crushes on your friends, it's very common. It's not always the best idea, though. It can be really hurtful if they don't like you back." "So were you boyfriend and girlfriend or not? Because you say no but Mommy said yes." She got you, hook, line and sinker. You gape at her, and her eyes are pointed as you scoff. "Okay, fine. We were boyfriend and girlfriend for a little bit." "A little bit!? Why not forever? Ugh!" She gripes, and you can only hold back your shock as you smear a little bit of sunscreen on her face. "Well, sometimes things just don't work out, babycakes. Plus, Channie and I will always be best friends." "Daddy told me that he and Mommy were best friends and now they're married. Maybe you and Channie can get married, too!"

You feel your chest grow warm at the idea of marrying Chan, and the fact that Rosie liked him so much that she wanted that for you. You recall your father also telling you the story of how he and your mother met, and why he was so adamant that you and Chan would figure it out. He told you that story so many times over the years, you had it practically memorized.

"Maybe, Rosie." You grin, kissing her nose. "No promises." "It's okay, Channie promised me." She shrugs, climbing out of her chair as you freeze. "What? What'd you say?" "I said, Channie promised me. I asked him yesterday when we were playing Barbies in the car. But it's a secret, so don't tell him I told you." She says sternly, making you gape as she abandons you to find your mother downstairs. You take a deep breath, ignoring the way your stomach fills with fluttering as you make your way downstairs. You see Chan sitting at the dinner table, hair mussed from the wind outside as your mother serves him a cup of coffee. His eyes catch yours, and you quickly look away as you jump the rest of the stairs and dart into your bedroom.

You barely make it to your bedroom without the tears spilling down your face, and you lock the door behind you. You slide down the door, pulling your knees to your chest as you think back to all the moments between you and Chan. All the times he said he loved you, all the times he said he couldn't imagine a life without you.

The time in the backseat of his car, almost three years to the date – where he said both over and over again. Where he dragged his lips anywhere you'd let him, whispers of how perfect you were for him and how insane you made him feel. Where he made you cry as he touched you just right, biting at your shoulders and digging his dull nails into your hips.

Where he told you that you'd tattooed your name across his heart and it was yours forever.

Your body shook with ragged sobs, and you forced yourself to get up off the floor as regret only sank further in. You broke up with him. It was the right thing to do, for the sake of your friendship and the idea of any future together. It was the right thing to do.

"Fuck." You hold yourself over the sink of your bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and letting it drip into the basin. Your tears mixed with the water, and you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door, before the doorknob wiggles. "Y/N? Are you alright in there?" It's your father. You quickly dry your face with a towel, tossing it into the sink before ripping the door open. "Hey, Dad. D'ya get your stuff?" "Honey, are you alright?" His face is worried as his hand comes up to your cheek, and you quickly nod. "I'm good, I promise. I just had one of those moments, you know. Seasonal depresh and what not." He quirks a brow at you, "Seasonal depresh?"

"Dad!" You whine, and he shrugs. "Yes, I got my pocket square. Can you check if it matches your dress? Oh, tell me you're gonna go for curls this year, because your mom is and she's mad that Rosie's are 'too tight.'" He rolls his eyes at the same time you do, making you snort. "Yeah, I'll check. I'm gonna start getting ready now, can you let Chan know so he doesn't come barging in here?" "He's at his house, he just left. He'll be driving you both, though, so you can be comfortable in your shoes." He nods, and you take the pocket square. "I'll get this to you when I'm done, okay?" "For sure, honey. I'll be back later, don't rush." He nods, closing the door as he leaves. You toss the pocket square onto the vanity, before looking into it with a slightly defeated look. You grimace, before grabbing a towel out of one of your drawers.

It didn't take you too long to get ready – you got in and out of the shower, and did your hair within two hours. Your makeup was done an hour later, with Rosie barging into your room and demanding you put lipstick on her, too. You rolled your eyes at her, telling her to say please, telling her to say thank you – both of which she did after you swiped the wine red on her lips. She scampered out of your room as you slipped into your closet, your mother appearing in your doorway to offer her help with zipping you up.

"You look just like me sometimes." She murmurs as she zips the dress, her fingers nimbly hooking the clasp at the top. She runs her fingers through the large curls you'd given yourself, smiling at you in the mirror. You give her a weak one in return, when she sighs, her hands on your shoulders.

"I wanted to apologize, baby." Her eyes are worried as you glance at them through the mirror, your fingers fumbling with the jewelry box in front of you. "Apologize? For what?" "A few years ago, I told you that I thought you were a little too harsh with your words around Chan. I think I went as far as calling you the brute of the relationship, didn't I?" She asks softly, and you look away as you tongue at your lower lip. "Yeah." "I'm sorry. I spoke to Chan earlier after his cousins left, he came in for a cup of coffee before he went to go get ready for dinner. I asked him a few questions about you, and he told me what he said to you a few days ago." She tucks a stray curl behind your ear, thumbing at the hoops she'd given you so many years ago. "It was really shitty of him to speak to you that way, and I told him so. I also told him that if he thinks he has even a remote chance of fixing things with you, that he better get on it soon. You're too kind for your own good sometimes, darling." "You think so?" You mumble, your eyes falling on a necklace Chan gave you for your birthday the year Rosie was born. You hadn't had a party that year, insisting Rosie was more important than anything else. He'd given it to you anyway, on the bus the morning of your birthday. You cried like a baby into his shoulder.

"I know so, honey. I know that somewhere in that heart of yours, you're waiting for him to make things right. Sometimes, I don't agree with it, but I also know you. I know you don't give anyone who doesn't deserve a second chance even a moment to speak to you. You're strong like that, just like your father."

You smile inwardly, her fingers lightly pinching your cheek. "I know you're good at taking care of yourself, but I also know Chan can take good care of you, too. I want you to be happy, and I know Chan makes you happier. You should've seen how you came into the house that year you were dating. You were smiling from ear to ear, like the Cheshire cat." She leaves with a kiss to your cheek, careful not to smudge her own lipstick onto it. She closes the door quietly, but not before you hear the Lees greet your father warmly as they filed into your home. You thumb at the necklace, the simple heart-shaped locket opening to a picture of you and Chan as teenagers. You often wore it open, liking when people asked you questions about the picture. No bigger than a coin, the gold locket has always been something you carried with you even if you didn't wear it.

"Y/N, I'm here for my pocket square!" Your father knocks on the door, and you open the door, holding it out. "Here you go." "Oh, honey! You look so pretty!" Your father covers his face as you spin, before he takes his pocket square. "Wow, you look so much like your mother sometimes." "Funny, she said the same thing." You snort, and he uses the vanity in your bedroom to fix his pocket square carefully. "We discussed seating charts, you're sitting between Chan and Rosie. Is that okay, or should I switch one of them out?" "That's fine. Can you actually send Chan in here? I need to talk to him." You nod, and your father glances at you in the mirror. "Are you sure?" "Positive. Won't take long."

Your father leaves with a kiss to your hairline, and you fumble with the necklace until you hear footsteps outside your door. You lean carefully, hearing a deep breath before a knock. "Come in." Chan slides through the door with closed eyes, almost like he's bracing himself for something. You snort, "What the hell is wrong with you? Open your eyes." "Your dad said you need to talk to me, and if you're going to dump me again, I don't need you to look beautiful doing it." He rushes out, making you gape. "Chan." "I'm serious. I haven't seen you yet but I know you look great. I mean, you always look amazing but I don't think I can handle you dumping me on Christmas Eve when you're in one of those pretty dresses you always wear." He can hardly breathe, and you can't help but laugh. "Nobody's getting dumped, please relax. I just need your help putting my necklace on." "I don't believe you, you could've asked your dad." He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut so tightly you're worried they might never open again. You walk over to him, running your fingers through his hair carefully, before thumbing at the small silver hoop in his ear. "You know we're not exactly together, right?" "In my mind, we've been married since we were in second grade and Hyewon officiated it." He scoffs, and you quirk an eyebrow. "Is that why you promised my sister we'd get married?" His eyes open wide, his lips parting slightly. "She told you?" "Oh good, your eyes are open. Help me put this on." You turn around, grabbing the necklace off your vanity. You pinch the chain carefully, holding it out to him when you look up to see his hand covering his mouth. His eyes rake over you slowly, and you feel your cheeks grow hot as he walks around you. You shift uneasily as he makes it back in front of you, "Do I look okay?" "Okay?" He whispers, making you look in the mirror. You run your hands down the bodice of the dress, "Is it too much?" "Too much?" He's still whispering, his eyes still running up and down your frame as you grow nervous. "Chan! You're freaking me out!" "Oh, baby." He murmurs, taking a few steps closer to you, taking your hand gently and making you spin for him. You feel nerves settle in your stomach, when he finally speaks. "You look so beautiful. I truly don't think words can express how absolutely angelic you look, are you real? Please tell me you're real, this would be a cruel dream." His eyes are wide and slightly glossy as he turns around, and you hear a soft sniffle. You watch his hands move around his face from behind him, your eyes growing wide as he turns back around, teary-eyed as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "No, it's not too much. You're never too much. You look great. Are you ready?" You gawk at him, "Chan, why are you crying?" "Nevermind that." He shakes his head, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. Your brows are furrowed, and you hold out the necklace. "Help me put this on." He glances at the necklace, his cheeks and ears burning a soft pink hue as you spin around, moving your hair to the front. He sighs shakily, carefully looping the locket around your neck and clipping it. You adjust the locket, your lips pursed as you open it. "Wear it like that." He speaks behind you, his hand appearing on your hip in the reflection. You raise a brow, closing the locket only to hear a whine as he rests his chin on your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you open it, adjusting it to show the small photo of the two of you. "How was saying goodbye to your cousins? They had a lot to say about you." "It was fine. We sent them off with your mom's leftover cake, and Soonyoung finished it in the car before they even drove off. Mingyu was pissed." He snorts, and you hum quietly, reaching for the jewelry box once more. You sifted through your rings, Chan pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

"I missed you." He pouts, and you give him a half-smirk as you peer down at him. "Did you, now?" "Stop talking to me like that, I'll get hard. You did it earlier too, but I was ashamed then, there were people around." He buries his face into your neck, and you snort out a laugh. "What are you talking about? I'm not talking to you in any sort of way." "Oh, so telling me to fetch like a dog isn't talking down to me?" He scoffs, cheeks aflame as he meets your eyes in the mirror. You suck your teeth, sliding on one of your rings with a shake of your head. "You liked that? You're something else, Chan." "I've literally always been like this, you just didn't notice before." Rolling his eyes, he wraps his arms around your waist. This is when you notice his suit jacket cuffed with silver cufflinks, a gift from your father years ago for graduation. You twist slightly, the top two buttons of his black shirt undone to show off a few layered chains. Some were gifts from you.

Your hand pushes him back slightly, his eyes never leaving your face as he lets you run yours all over him. Your fingers tug at his belt buckle, "You look really nice." "You can do better than that." He chides, and you swallow a scoff but roll your eyes as you pull him to you by his belt loop. You press your lips to his lightly, "You take what you're given, or nothing at all." He breathes out heavily against your lips, and you move your hand to rest on his stomach. "Are you ready? They're going to want to take pictures before we leave."

He can't reply, the two of you springing apart when you hear a knock at the door. You cough as Chan blinks, before opening it to reveal Rosie. "Hi, pipsqueak." "Mommy said that if you're not in the living room, she's going to leave you both here." She relays with a roll of her eyes, and you hold back a snort. "Can't have that, can we?" Rosie asks Chan to pick her up as you slide on one last ring, your fingers fumbling with the lights. Rosie's pink cast is around Chan's neck as he holds her on his hip, and you instinctively slot your fingers with his before remembering your parents will see you. He squeezes your fingers lightly, a sheepish smile on his lips as you let go.

"Wow!" Mrs. Lee is the first person you hear as you step into the living room, your cheeks burning as she clambers over. "Look at you, honey! Oh, you're so grown up." Her hands are tucking your hair behind your ears, the both of you missing the way Chan's eyes fill with adoration as he delivers Rosie to your father. He clears his throat inwardly, watching the way your parents move in front of your fireplace for photos. He can't keep his eyes off you the entire time, even as his parents shove the two of you together for a photo.

"Chan, don't act like you did on prom night. Act like you wanna be here." Your mother scolds him playfully, and you feel your heart flutter as you tug his arm around your waist. His fingers easily settle low on your hip, your own finding his shoulder and you rest your cheek on top. "Smile!" Chan's fingers squeeze your hip as everyone turns away, sneakily pressing his lips to your temple as you begin to move away. Your eyes are wide as he walks away, grabbing your coat off your father's hands and helping you slide it on from behind. Everyone is trying to help Rosie, and he takes the opportunity to whisper in your ear.

"I'm so in love with you. I wish things were different right now." He sighs, carefully tucking your hair into the hood of your coat. You feel your cheeks heat as you turn so he can zip it up, wrapping your scarf loosely around your neck as he connects the zipper at the bottom. 

"I know. Eventually, okay? Just give me some time." You mumble back, tucking the end of your scarf into the coat as he nods defeatedly. You resist the urge to caress his cheek, run your fingers through his hair, kiss him. A weak smile is all you can muster as he straightens fully, adjusting your scarf so the zipper won't snag.

Your parents are looking your way, your mother watching the way Chan carefully zips your coat up. Your father smiles as he makes your mother turn away, "Your keys are in Chan's coat. Lock the door, come on." The two of you scramble behind your parents, Chan hastily shoving his coat on as you wrap his scarf around him as he walks forward. You tuck it into the coat as he zips himself up, his hand holding you steady in your heels as you step onto the porch. He locks the door quickly, trying the doorknob twice as your father helps your mother down the steps, and he offers his hand when he looks at your feet. "Y/N, why are your shoes open-toed? Are you out of your mind?" "I didn't have any heels that matched! It'll be fine!" You huff, and he gestures at the snowy pathway leading to your car. "Your toes are going to freeze and then you're going to get sick and die. Do you want to get sick and die, Y/N?" He scoffs, and you feel your scream caught in your throat as he picks you up princess-style. "Chan! Put me down!" He ignores you as he steps off the porch, carefully maneuvering his way to your car as you huff. Your lip is jutted out in a pout as he unlocks your car, bending at the knee to open your door and carefully set you down on the seat. He buckles your seatbelt in for you as your father pulls out of the driveway, giving you a honk as he turns out of your neighborhood. Chan shuts your door, rounding the front of the car to the driver's side. "You didn't have to do that." You mutter as he slides in, sticking the keys into the ignition as he shivers. "Yes, I did. Don't be brat, just let me take care of you." You don't reply, picking at your nails as he plugs his phone into the aux, handing it to you. Shuffling one of his playlists, the two of you freeze as you hear the opening notes of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic flow through the speakers. Chan purses his lips, single handedly unplugging his phone and tossing it into the backseat. "Nope. No music tonight, it seems."

"I thought you liked that song." You reach for his phone, grabbing it off the edge of the backseat and sliding it into the cupholder as he pulls out of the neighborhood. He has a tick in his jaw as he flicks on the turn signal, "I like it when we're in the backseat and you're on top of me, not when I'm driving you to dinner and not when you're in my clothes on the drive to your house." Your jaw could very well be on the floor the way you're gaping at him, his fingers reaching over to close your mouth. "Chan." "What? I think about that night all the time." He scoffs, turning onto the main street that makes the drive to your mother's restaurant five minutes longer. His hand floats down to your thigh, settling high on it through the slit of your dress. Tonguing your cheek, you stare out the window as your hand settles atop his. "You mean the night that–" "Shut up." You snicker to yourself, sliding your fingers between his. "You know it's not the worst thing in the world, right? Tons of people have breeding kinks." He winces as you say it, making a strangled noise of discomfort from his seat before glancing at you. "Y/N, I want you to take a really good look at me right now and tell me that it wasn't weird." He scoffs, and you shrug, facing him.

"It wasn't weird. I liked it." You admit, "I think the slightly weirder part was calling you daddy, but some things you do out of…you know." You trail off, feeling your cheeks hot as you look out the window. Chan makes a noise of approval, his hand flipping beneath yours to interlace your fingers. He brings your knuckles to his lips, a chaste kiss pressed on top of your rings. "I know, babe." The rest of the ride is silent, some shy glances shared before you pull into the parking lot where your father is waiting with Rosie. You smile, squeezing his hand in the shadow of the center console before letting go. Chan pulls around the building, looking for a parking spot. "We're still taking that drive later, right?" "If you're not too tired, or drunk." He snorts, and you gasp, landing a soft smack to his arm. "I got drunk one time!" "You called me daddy one time, I think that goes to show that you're game for anything at least once." He teases, and you sigh inwardly. "I guess that's true." "I know it is, I know you like the back of my hand. I love you." He says, mostly to himself as he pulls into a spot just a few feet from the door. Killing the engine, he looks over the steering wheel at your father. "Can your dad see us from here?" "I don't think so, he's entertaining Rosie. Why?" You unbuckle your seatbelt as he gets out, and you feel the door close as he rounds the car to open your door. You wait, before feeling the cold gust of winter air rush into the car. You shiver, grabbing Chan's phone out of the cupholder and taking his hand to step out. He pulls you close, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears as you look into his eyes. "Something wrong?" "No." He shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips as he thumbs at your earlobes. You tilt your head at him, eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?" "Don't drink tonight." He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you nod slowly. "Any special reason?" 

He shrugs, before looping his arm with yours and pulling you towards the front of the restaurant. You can't help but look up at him with a shy smile as he guides you around piles of snow, before seeing the flash of a camera. You blink rapidly, before looking up to see your father holding Rosie on his hip, her hands holding a camera. Chan greets your father warmly, and Rosie shows him the photo. "Can I see, too?" You ask, peering over Chan's shoulder when Rosie tilts it away. "No." Your pout does nothing to sway your baby sister, making Chan snicker at you. The four of you walk into the restaurant, the warm air of the establishment like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. "I still can't believe your parents named both their businesses after you." Chan murmurs as you walk to the reserved room your mother arranges every year, and you snort.

"What can I say, they love me." You shrug, resting your head on his shoulder. Rosie looks over your father's shoulder, a crinkle in her nose as she sees the closeness between the two of you. "Are you sure you're not boyfriend and girlfriend?" "We're sure, babycakes." You laugh softly, moving to pull yourself away from Chan but feeling his fingers interlace with yours before you can. You glance at him, only to see him sticking his tongue out at Rosie, who blows a raspberry at him. A pit of anxiety opens in your stomach as your father opens the door for you both, letting you slip by when you feel Chan's fingers let go of yours, and a murmur of Can I talk to you, sir?

Rosie enters with you, Chan and your father lingering at the door before they take a turn back outside. Your eyes widen as Rosie leads you to the table, your mother sharing the same quizzical look. "Y/N, where's Chan? Did you guys fight?" "No, no. He's…he's with Dad." You reply absently, pulling your coat off as your mother helps Rosie out of hers. The table is set and covered entirely with food, the roast pig being the main attraction in the center of the table. You find your seat, pulling Rosie closer to you to fill the strange pit you feel. Chan and your father don't appear for another ten minutes, but they're both rather stoic as they enter – but you see a soft smile on his face as Chan takes his seat opposite your father.

"Everything okay?" Mrs. Lee asks gently, and Chan nods. "Don't worry, all good." If anyone notices how quiet you are during dinner, they don't say anything. You feel the heat of Chan's gaze more than once, but everyone is too wrapped up in the food and the conversation – to even notice the fact that Rosie fell asleep into her mashed potatoes. You're the one who realizes she's fallen asleep, cooing as you carefully wipe her face and wrap her coat around her as her head lolls onto your arm. You scoot closer, lifting her onto your lap and resting her head on your chest.

"Did she fall asleep?" Your mother asks incredulously, making you snort. "Right into her mashed potatoes. Don't worry, I got it." You wrap your arms around her, leaning back in your chair. "Your dinner, though?" Your mother points at your picked plate, and you shrug. "I'll take it home. No big deal, I'm not exactly hungry. I could fall asleep right now, too." You shake your head, running your fingers through your sister's hair. Your mother nods, beckoning one of her waitstaff to wrap the plate up for you. His name is Hansol, and he carefully takes your plate and disappears with it.

Dinner continues for a few more hours, and you reach over to Chan and tug on his sleeve. He gives you a glance, concern in his eyes before you tap your wrist. He checks his watch, flashing it to you. Midnight. You wince, looking over to your father to see him glancing at his own watch. "Oh, man. It's really late, we should get going." He hisses, and your mother's eyes widen as she sees the time. "Shit, I told them we'd be out by eleven. Alright, up. Let's get going." Your father takes Rosie from your lap, and your mother carefully pulls her coat over the pink cast. You watch tentatively, ready to step in at any moment when you feel Chan's hand on your shoulder. Jumping slightly, you feel the soft fabric of your coat. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Arms, please." You don't look at him as he works around you, until Rosie is on your father's hip and Chan is wrapping your scarf around you. "You're distracted tonight. Everything okay?" Chan's voice is soft as he zips your coat up, his own already settled on his frame. "What did you and my dad talk about?" You blurt, and he raises a brow as he follows the four parents out of the room, who are still chattering about everything and anything. He scans your face, concern weighing heavy on his brows before he smiles. "I didn't ask him to marry you, if that's what you're worried about. That's further down the line." Seeing the way your shoulders settle, Chan loops his arm with yours. "Did you want me to ask him?" You don't respond, letting him lead you out of the restaurant. Your parents are all still talking as your father buckles Rosie into her carseat, her eyes opening slightly as you pass by. You wave at her, only for her eyes to close again. Smiling to yourself, you wait for your parents to acknowledge you and Chan waiting by the front of your father's SUV.

"Going for a drive?" Your mother asks gently, and you nod. "Home soon, don't worry." You hold your pinky out, only for your father to clasp it with his own. "Take your time. Drive safe."

Your eyes search your father for answers, and he only smiles. "See you at home, honey."

Nodding slowly, you and Chan bid your parents goodnight, your mother's eyes lingering as Chan walks you back to the car. You can feel your chest a bit tight as he opens your door, but give him a strained smile as he gets into the driver's seat.

"Alright, what's eating you? Besides me." He jokes lightly, pulling out of the parking lot. You see your parents' car already at the stoplight in the street, the light turning green just as Chan pulls into the street. "Nothing." "You're lying." He plugs his phone into the aux as the light turns red, a click of his tongue as he presses shuffle on yet another random playlist. The soft melody of Scared To Live by The Weekend pours out of your speakers as he takes the oh-so-familiar turn down the same road you've taken this drive on every year. It's scenic, it's always decked with Christmas lights and it leads you right to a random cliff that overlooks the entire city. You sigh as he holds his hand out for yours, interlacing your fingers and leaning back on the headrest. You recline your seat a bit, crossing your legs at the knee. He lets go of your hand and you cover your face with your arms, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed thigh.

"You can always talk to me, you know." He murmurs over the music, this time it's Fantasy by Bazzi. You nod silently, hearing a hum from him as he traces circles into your skin with his thumb. The drive is silent aside from the music, Chan's comfort seeping into your body via his hand and your shoulders losing their tension as he pulls into the deserted cliff. You'd found it years before you went to college, and enjoyed retreating there to get high together behind your parents' backs. You also exchanged one Christmas gift here every year, basking in the privacy and security of each other's warmth on the hood of whoever's car you took that time.

"So? What's going on?" He parks the car, lowering the music as he turns to look at you. You peek at him from beneath your arms, a pout on your lips. "Nothing, really. I'm good."

Chan moves your arms from your face, his fingers coming to poke at your cheeks with every word. 'You are such a bad liar, baby."

You groan, "It's stupid. It's so stupid because you're probably not going to have to deal with until you're in your fucking thirties but I've been dealing with it since I was in high school." Your pout makes Chan thumb at your lip, an understanding look in his eyes. "You mean that same conversation your parents keep having with you about having kids and getting married?" "Yes! Ugh, that's why I was so quiet at dinner. And why I was so pissy on the way here from campus. I do not want to have this fucking conversation again this year, especially when I don't even know what's going to happen when we leave." You fall back into your seat, feeling Chan's hand cup your knee. "I'm so sick of being asked the same shit, I'll get married when I get married and I'll have kids when I have kids. What about my career? No one but you and my dad ask about what I want to do after college. What if I want a master's degree? What if I want a doctorate?" Chan listens intently, his eyes flowing between worried and understanding. "Well, what if? Do you want to do that? What do you want to do after we graduate? Do you want to move back here, do you want to move somewhere else, do you want to pursue something more? Do you want to work full-time?" "What does it matter what I want? You want to get married, Chan." You sigh, and he shakes his head. "It matters because you're your own person, not an extension of me. I don't want to get married if you don't want to, and definitely not if we're not well established. Stable present makes for a stable future, and I want things to be just as easy as they always have been between you and me. You call my name, I come. If time is the issue, I'll wait. I waited my entire life before freshman year, and I've waited three years since then."

You peer up at him, "So you're serious about marrying me? You weren't kidding?" "Respectfully, I don't think you've ever sounded more insane than you do right now." He scoffs, sitting up and pulling you with him. Your lip is jutted out in a slight pout as you thumb the seam of your dress, Chan's fingers grazing your jaw as he makes you look at him. 

"I love you, Y/N. I'd wait an eternity for you, as long as you're happy. I want you to feel fulfilled, and I know that you're not going to if I try to tie you down with bullshit. Yes, I want to get married. Yes, I want to marry you. You've seen me through every stage of my life and as painful as it may have been for you because I've been an absolute douche, you stuck by me. I don't know how else to make you understand that you're important to me, and that includes embracing who you are as an individual. Even if you say no to anything I offer, the house, the ring, the kids, the fucking pursuit of happiness by my side…none of it matters as long as I know that you're happy with yourself." You don't realize you're crying until his thumbs wipe at your cheeks, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ears. "I love you, endlessly. I'll always be here, and I know maybe that's not what you need to hear to be comforted but I need you to know that." You sniffle slightly, "What if my mother pressures me enough that I make a rash decision? What if she manages to get to me just like she always has?" "She won't. Even if she did, I know you in ways she doesn't. I know every side of your heart, I know how kind and forgiving it can be and I know how cold and cruel it can be. I know you're strong and independent and you don't need me to ever speak up on your behalf, but if ever your voice is lost on you, I can. I have, and I will continue to do so. Your honor is mine, even if mine isn't yours."

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, wanting the conversation to end. "I forgot your gift at the house. I'm sorry." 

"That's alright. I still have yours, if you want to go sit while I get the blanket." He presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, allowing you to change the subject. "I feel bad, though." "Go sit for me." He nips at your ear, making you jolt as you shove him. He smirks as you scoff, wiping at your face carefully as you open the door and step out. You shudder as the cold hits your feet, but you hoist yourself onto the hood of your car as Chan pulls the thick blanket you brought from your apartment out of your trunk. The metal is still warm before you feel him kill the engine, the motor dying under you as he shuts the door, shoving your keys into his pocket. He drapes the blanket over your face as you feel him grab your ankle. Jolting, you push the blanket off, seeing a pair of socks clenched between his teeth as he undoes the strap of your shoe.

"Where the fuck did you find those?" You let him slide the black sock over your foot, and he shrugs. "Your cheer bag is still in the trunk. I know these are new, though, because I put them in there before we left for practice last week." He shrugs, slipping off the other shoe and putting the sock on, covering you with the blanket once more as he rounds the car to throw the shoes into the backseat. You stare at the clear sky as he slides onto the hood next to you, a soft sigh from his lips as you drape the blanket over his leg.

"I didn't ask your dad to marry you, I promise. I just talked to him about how I felt and what he thinks I should do." You hear him say softly, and you turn to see him looking at you already. Your brow raises, and he holds up a white box. It's from the jewelry store you found Rosie and Mrs. Lee in when you went to the mall, the silver logo stamped on the top. "He said I should be honest and tell you what I want, and listen to what you have to say. So, uhm…this is more for you and I than anyone else, but I…I understand if you don't want it." He pops it open, a slim gold band slotted into the cushion with a thicker one, presumably for him. The rings are studded with stones, emeralds and sapphires with smaller white diamonds scattered about. You look at him, a certain softness to your gaze that has only ever been present for him.

"A promise ring?" He shifts under your gaze, cheeks tinging pink as he sits up, sliding off the hood of the car. He paces slightly, "I know it's so…ugh, it's so high school. And we're not even together, and I'm willing to wait–" "I'm not." You interrupt, "I'm tired of waiting, Chan."

His eyes are wide as you shrug, holding your hand out for the box. "Can I see?" He hands it to you, your fingers pinching the delicate band and holding it up to your eyes. "Is this what you bought when you were fighting your mom at the register?" "It's also why your class ring went missing last month, but that's neither here nor there." He admits sheepishly, making you gape. "You took it! You little rat, I knew you had something to do with it."

"I needed it for the sizing! And I got it back! Do you…do you like it?" He asks shyly, resting his hands on either side of your legs as he leans closer to you. You nod, "I love it, it's beautiful. Good eye, I guess." "Can't you just give me a compliment without making it sound so forced?" He rolls his eyes as you replace the ring, holding the box in your hand. You shake your head, "I'll have a lifetime to do that. Do I get to put yours on for you?" "You're taking it? You're saying yes, I mean?" His eyes are wide as he scans your face, and you scoff. "Obviously? We still have a lot of growing to do, but I don't take the steps to make a decision unless I know it's the right thing to do. You know that." "Including breaking up with me on my birthday?" "Including saying yes when you ask me to be your girlfriend in about two minutes. I should make you wait, but I'm impatient." He rolls his eyes, leaning slightly closer. You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his, feeling your cheeks heat as he brushes his lips to yours. "I love you." "You're right, I do deflect a lot." He laughs, peppering kisses around your face as you scrunch your nose. "Be my girlfriend, please. I'd be nothing of a man without you." "I mean, I guess if you want me that bad–" "Respond properly or I'm taking your socks off." "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." You roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his lips. He kisses you back softly, his hands moving to hold your face carefully. "You know the ring means you'll also say yes to being my fiancée and then my wife, right?" He speaks against your lips, kissing you between words. "Mhm." You hum in response, before taking the thicker ring out of the box in your hand. "Let me put this on you. You can't take it off, like, ever."

"Wait, you first." He pulls away, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it into his coat pocket. He takes your hand in his carefully, "I think I'm gonna cry." "That's okay. I've seen you cry before. I've seen you throw up and I still think you're a pretty okay guy." You joke to ease him, noting the way his fingers tremble slightly as they slide the ring down your finger. It fits snugly, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before looking up at you. "Are you sure?" "Are you?" You hold up his ring, and he nods slowly. "If I'm not sure of anything else in this life, I have the comfort of knowing I'll always be sure of you." "When did you become so profound?" You tease, slipping the ring down his finger. He scoffs, "What part of you deflect and I don't did you forget? I've always been this way! You've just gotten good at ignoring me because you don't like to admit my compliments make you feel some type of way." "You just make me nervous." You confess quietly, tugging on the lapel of his coat. "You think you don't make me nervous? I can't talk to you sometimes without getting my tongue twisted."

"Your tongue does better things than talk, Chan." "I thought we were having a wholesome moment here." He flicks your forehead, your hand moving up to swat his hand away. He grabs it midair, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. "Are we still keeping this under wraps?" Your eyes widen, "Shit, are we?" "I mean…my mom knows I got these." He winces, and you click your tongue. "Your mom also told me you're a crybaby who called her and said I broke your heart."

"I may be a crybaby but at least I can tell someone when I love them." He scoffs, making you furrow your brows. "You wanna play that game? Because I have so much shit from Soonyoung and Mingyu, too." "Tell me you love me!" He whines, and you roll your eyes. "I'm your girlfriend, not your puppet. I'll tell you when I'm good and damn ready." "Great, I'm ending the year with a girlfriend that hates me." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sucking his teeth. "I did this to myself." "If you get me out of the cold within the next twenty seconds, I'll let you go down on me when we get home." You offer, before a shriek rips through you as he throws you over his shoulder. 

"As you wish, girlfriend."

DECEMBER 31, 9:42PM.

Chan in fact, did go down on you when you got home. Twice on your bed without even taking your dress off, and once in the shower. Your legs could barely hold you up, but that doesn't really matter when your boyfriend forgets his own strength while pinning you against the bath tile.

Christmas Day was rather uneventful aside from unwrapping gifts, with Rosie screaming excitedly about the extensive sets of Legos and Barbie dolls you and Chan got for her. Your parents gifted you and Chan a vacation to Bali, set for after your graduation, as well as a new pair of earrings. The Lees gave you a rush of nostalgia as they gave you yet another locket, this one with a picture of you and Chan as babies.

Chan watched the exchanges quietly, and the night concluded with you and him falling asleep watching a movie in your bed. His parents never did make him move to his bedroom after Mingyu and Soonyoung left, and your parents didn't mind him staying so long as you were fine with it. You still didn't fuck him, but he was perfectly content with waiting – so long as you didn't mind his tongue between your thighs in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn. You spent the next few days simply existing within your families. You got your nails done with Mrs. Lee, and took Rosie along with you. Rosie got her cast off and cried when the physician cut through your signature, tears only stopped by a scoop of chocolate almond ice cream on a waffle cone. You spent a bit of time with your mother at the restaurant, tasting a few of her new recipes and coming home to sleep in Chan's arms with a stomach ache from all the food. Per usual, Chan continued his whispered sweet nothings and you shied away from him often, only for him to pull you back into his embrace and kiss you until you couldn't breathe, followed by murmurs of I love you. 

The days were quiet, and your families were slowly growing used to having you and Chan around – something that always backfired on them, because the two of you usually left a day or two after ringing in the New Year together. It helped you beat the traffic back, and it helped you decompress from spending so much time with Chan.

Not that you'd need to do that this time…because, well. You know.

"Do I look okay?" You ask your mother for the billionth time, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. She rolls her eyes as she sprays a bit of perfume in the middle of your back, making you flinch at the sensation. "You look lovely, darling. Please, get a grip! This is just the same people we've rung the New Year in with every year. Nothing new, nothing to be nervous about."

Your mother sprays perfume on her wrists, before dabbing them on her neck. "Go downstairs, check on Rosie. I'm going to be so upset if your father let her have anything that could stain that dress, it was too expensive to ruin." You sigh shakily, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror your mother had in her bedroom. Your dress was black and glittery, ending at your mid-thigh with an open back that left little to the imagination as it stopped just at the dip of your spine. It had straps that sat off your shoulders with a low-cut neckline, and you only wore a necklace that Chan had bought to play off the rings he'd gotten you. It sat nicely at the base of your throat, the only gift he gave you in front of your parents.

"Y/N!" Rosie called from the bottom of the stairs as you reached the first one, and you smiled down at her as you made your way down. "Babycakes! You look so pretty in your dress!"

"Thank you!" She beams up at you, holding a pink lollipop in her hand. Your father is sitting on the couch, eyes closed as you walk up behind him. "Catching up on sleep, old man?" "You know it. I love having you kids here, but I'm exhausted from all the socializing. I only have so many things to say." He sighs, and you snort. "Don't worry, just a few more days. Chan and I are leaving on the third, I think."

It's not long before your mother comes downstairs, her dress a sparkly burgundy this year. Her lipstick matches it, and your father presses a kiss to her temple as he helps her tug her coat on. Rosie is settled on your hip, her head resting on your shoulder as the four of you walk over to the Lees, and you already regret the thin coat you chose to layer over your dress. You shiver as you walk up the steps to the porch, Rosie fighting sleep as you bounce her around.

"Don't sleep, Rosie! It's just a little party!" You wiggle her around, her giggle tired as your mother knocks on the front door. Chan appears as he throws it open, ushering everyone inside. His eyes meet yours, widening at the necklace sitting on your skin. You feel your cheeks heat as you walk past him, setting Rosie down and tugging her coat off as he closes the door. You lower to her height, "Don't fall asleep, okay? You feel sleepy, come find me." You tap her cheeks, and she nods as she trails off to find your mother, who is greeting Mrs. Lee with the bottle of wine you brought over. Chan helps you stand upright, a soft smile on his face as he pulls you into a hug. "I haven't seen you since this morning. I missed you, gorgeous." He mumbles into your ear, and you roll your eyes as you weasel out of his embrace. "You always miss me. I'm literally across the lawn." You tug your scarf off, and he takes it, his hand awaiting for your coat. "What did your dad make this year?" You nod in the direction of the kitchen, the rich smell of lemongrass and garlic filling the house. He opens his mouth to respond, only for his words to get caught in his throat as you slide your coat off, his eyes landing on the expanse of your back. It's speckled with glitter, courtesy of your mother, and you swing your hair behind you as you hand him your coat.

"What? Are you okay?" Your voice is concerned as you glance at him, your hands moving to smooth the front of your dress. He blinks, before his mother's voice cuts through the air. "Y/N! Oh my, let me see your dress! Give me a spin!" She sets her wine glass down on the table, and you give her a warm hug before she spins you around. "You look stunning! Come, we have to take your picture." You give Chan a glance over your shoulder, his ears red as he snaps out of his daze, hanging your coat on the door as Mrs. Lee pulls you into the living room with your parents. She poses you all in front of her Christmas tree, before it's just you and Rosie. Rosie yawns as Mrs. Lee takes the photo, and you tell her it's best to just let the kid take a nap. "You can put her down in the guest bedroom, but can I get a picture with you and Channie first?" She nods, and you open your mouth to protest but she calls him over before you can say anything. He looks a bit bewildered as he walks over, clearing his throat as he stands next to you. You feel an awkward air floating off of him as he makes no move to touch you, and Mrs. Lee huffs. You quickly wrap his arm around your waist like you did on Christmas Eve, expecting his hand to fall in the same low spot on your hip – but you feel it ghosting over your back as you resume the same position. You don't say anything, just smiling as Mrs. Lee snaps your photo. She thanks you, turning away with the permission to drop Rosie in the guest bedroom.

"Wanna tell me what your problem is?" You mutter to Chan, who sucks his teeth. "Wanna tell me why you wore this dress?" "Oh, so I'm the problem? Good to know." You grit, before you pick Rosie up off the couch, hoisting her over your shoulder as you make your way to the guest bedroom. Chan follows closely behind you without you realizing, and is leaning in the door frame as you tuck Rosie into the bed, carefully covering her with the blanket so as to not be blamed for creases in her dress. You kiss her forehead, walking out of the bedroom only to bump into Chan, who grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom with a quick tug. "Bro." You're frustrated, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pull your arm out of his grasp, only for him to pull you into him by your waist. "Don't call me bro, I literally made you cum on my tongue this morning." He scoffs, his grip is bruising against your skin. "Who's the insatiable one now? Over a dress? Really?" You roll your eyes, but it seems your boyfriend has no time for your goading as he pushes you against his door, lips pressed against yours in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he slides his hands down your back. He pulls away with a nip to your lip, leaving you to pout as you chase after him. "Not just a dress, you in this fucking dress. What were you thinking?" "Wanted you to see me in it." You confess quietly, your eyes glued to his lips, now slightly stained with your red lipstick. He sighs, "Don't act cute. I can't be mad when you do that." "Don't be mad at me. Don't you think I look pretty?" Your eyes feign innocence, blinking up at him as he groans in lust-fueled frustration. "Not mad at you, baby. Never mad at you." He rests his forehead against yours, "I want you so fucking bad, it's pathetic." "Have me." You murmur, nosing at him as he shakes his head. "I can't, not right now. Certainly not in my parents' house." "Oh, but when it's my parents' house, it's fine??" You snort, making him laugh softly, brushing a kiss against your lips. "For old time's sake, I'll say yes. Keeping up with traditions and whatnot."

"They're gonna wonder where we are." You sigh, before feeling his hands travel further south. You swat them away, "If you're not gonna fuck me, you can't feel me up and leave me all needy. It's not fair." "I like it when you're needy." He kisses your jaw, and you scowl, pinching his nipple through his shirt. Of course, the rat bastard only leans into your touch, eliciting soft whine from his throat. "You're such a fucking freak!"

"You're literally the reason I'm this way. You're the blueprint." He rolls his eyes, before he turns you over, pushing your chest against the door as he presses his hips into you. Your eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he grinds against you. His fingers toy with the hem of your dress, shoving it up slightly when you hear a gasp from his lips.

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me." 

He moves away entirely, and you feel him sink to his knees behind you. He pushes your dress up, the fabric bunching around your hips to expose your bare ass. You'd forgone underwear in hopes of things going this direction tonight, but certainly not this early in the night. But by all means, you're willing to let bygones be bygones as long as Chan keeps touching you.

You can almost hear his internal battle as he pushes you forward a bit, spreading your thighs with his hands. "You're gonna kill me one day, aren't you? In cold blood. I'll be dead because you can't behave." He's fighting himself as you glance over your shoulder, a look feigning disinterest on your face as you shrug. "Take it or leave it."

He chooses to leave it, but not before sinking his teeth into your thigh, pinning your arm to your back when you reach to swat at him. "Chan!" "Shut up, they'll hear you." He rolls his eyes as he stands, using his free hand to massage the bitten area. "You can wait, right? It's only two hours." "I don't want to." You pout, pushing back against him. He lands a quick slap to the meat of your ass, your cheeks flushed as he whispers in your ear. "You're gonna have to, baby. Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

You huff, squirming against him when you feel his hand slip between your thighs. His fingertips drag slowly through your wet folds, just barely breaching your entrance when he pulls them away. "Open your mouth."

You turn to see him licking his fingers clean, your heart beating wildly in your chest as he repeats himself. "Open. Don't make me do it for you."

"Kiss me first." He does as you ask, tugging the fabric of your dress back down as he snakes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands fist at the lapels of his suit jacket, whining into his mouth before he pulls away. Your lips jut out in a pout, a soft chuckle from Chan before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Open up." You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out for him to spit onto. Your eyes flutter shut the moment you feel it, his hand on your jaw pulling you forward to kiss him. Your legs feel like jelly at his touch, feeling him mumble those three little words against your lips.

"I love you. Don't act up and I won't, either." He holds his pinky out, and you reluctantly link yours with it. He wipes the corners of your lips, "Go. I have to…calm down."

"Tell me you love me again." You look up at him, making him roll his eyes as he bites back a smile. "If I tell you again, will you get out?" "Maybe." You smile back, making him physically turn you, his hands on your shoulders as you turn the doorknob to his room. "I love you, baby. Now, go." You slink out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you as you slip into the bathroom. Your skin feels hot as you look in the mirror, your lipstick only slightly smudged – a blessing, truly. You pat your fingers over your swollen lips, before checking the hem of your dress. You tug it lower, making sure it covers everything before ruffling your hair and taking a deep breath.

Two hours. Easy.

Not easy.

It's been an hour and forty-five minutes, and you can feel your patience wearing thin as Chan acts like nothing happened.

He's standing across the room, talking to your mother with a soft smile on his face – just like he has been for the last thirty minutes. His wine is the same color as her dress, listening to her drone on and on about the benefits of turmeric in cooking as well as body products. Your cheek is resting on the heel of your palm, your other hand holding your second flute of champagne as you stare at your boyfriend without a care in the world – when you see a little head start floating your way, a frumpled blue dress catching your eye.

"Y/N?" She calls tiredly, rubbing her eyes as she looks around for you. "Babycakes! I'm over here, come sit with me!" You pat your lap, setting your champagne on the table as she makes her way over to you. She climbs into your lap and you smooth her hair down as she rests her head on your shoulder.

"How was your nap? Any good dreams?" You ask, twirling a piece of her hair in your fingers. She shakes her head, "No dreams. Just sleep." She shrugs, yawning as she buries her face into your neck. You wrap your arms around her, rocking back and forth and humming quietly.

It's not even five minutes when she falls limp with sleep in your arms, and you rest your cheek atop her head as Mrs. Lee makes way to you, her silver dress stunning as she extends her hands. "Do me a favor, honey. Go steal Chan from your mother, we're going to start the countdown soon and I'm sure you want to spend a few moments with him.” Her eyes twinkle like she knows something, taking Rosie from your lap. You nod sheepishly, standing up and tugging your dress down slightly. You grab your flute of champagne, smiling inwardly as you make your way across the living room to Chan's side. You squeeze your mother's shoulder lightly to get her attention, her voice stopping in the middle of a rosemary and thyme soap recipe she's reciting. "Yes, darling?" "Rosie's up. Might wanna check on her, I can't gauge if she'll sleep tonight." You wince, and your mother nods, putting her wine glass down on the coffee table. She walks away, your father joining her in the kitchen when you feel Chan's hand on your lower back. "Hey." He pulls you into his side, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You try not to lean into the touch, a soft smile on your lips. "Hey. Tired?" "Exhausted, actually. I do not want to be here right now." He sighs, and you open your mouth to reply when you see Mr. Lee turn the television on to the New Year's Eve countdown from the Lotte World Tower. You smile to yourself as Chan shuffles you both behind the couch, his hand keeping skin-on-skin contact the entire time. You miss the glance your father gives you as you lean your head on Chan's shoulder, the way Chan's fingers run up and down your side.

You miss the way your mother joins him in looking at the two of you, the way Chan's looks at you adoringly. The way your arm wraps around his waist, and your fingers trace circles into his side, the glint of the ring he gave you mocking her in the light. Your mother gives your father a look, one that screams is that what I think it is? Your father only shrugs, draping his own arm around her shoulders and making her face the television. The reporter is excitedly moving around the prepared stage, talking a mile a minute about all the musical achievements by artists in a rapid fire attempt to fill the last two minutes to the countdown. Mrs. Lee slots her fingers with her husband, and you find yourself finding Rosie's sleepy eyes on your father's shoulder. She smiles, giving you a thumbs up and you scrunch your nose at her, giving one back. She points at Chan, and you tap him to get his attention for her. He looks up, meeting her eyes and receiving the same reaction. He gives her one back, and she closes her eyes, turning the other way.

"She's adorable." He murmurs as you look up at him, "She is." The reporter smiles widely as the large number 10 splays on the television. Your parents break into chatter, Chan's parents drifting over to yours slowly. You tug at Chan's sleeve, earning a hum as he looks at you once more.

"Do you ever think about what our kids will look like?" You whisper, and he nods. "Sometimes." 9…

"Do you have names?" "A few."

8…

"Do you think about our wedding?" "All the time. I'm going to cry like a fucking baby." 7…

"How do you feel about a summer wedding?" "Whatever you want, baby. I'd get married in the woods if you wanted." 6…

"Like in Breaking Dawn?" "That wedding was beautiful. I cried, remember?" 5…

"I do. You cry a lot, you know?" "Emotional vulnerability is sexy, is it not?"

4…

"You think so?" "I know so." 3…

"Hey, Chan?" "Yes, Y/N?" 2…

"Are you gonna kiss me?" "Yeah, babe. I'm gonna kiss you." 1…

"I love you." You mumble, pressing your lips to his as the reporter boasts a Happy New Year from Lotte World Tower!

His hand is low on your back as he kisses you deeply, your own holding his cheek as your parents cheer and congratulate each other. You hear a soft voice above it all, "Channie and Y/N are kissing."

You pull back from Chan to see your parents gaping at you, and Rosie smiling before she lays her cheek back on your father's shoulder. "I told you they were boyfriend and girlfriend. You owe me fifty bucks, Mommy."

You gawk at her, Chan coughing awkwardly as your mother covers her face. "You bet on us?" "I assume the two of you managed to talk things out." Your father's voice is level, a warm smile on his face as Chan clears his throat. "Yes, sir." "And everything is okay…now?" Mr. Lee chimes in, your face growing warm as you nod, "Yes, sir." "And you're…together? Officially?" Mrs. Lee asks calmly, a grin fighting its way onto her lips as you and Chan flush embarrassedly. "Yes." You say in unison, and Mrs. Lee smiles from ear to ear, holding her hand out to your mother.

"You owe me a hundred bucks." "Wanna take a drive? I don't want to see money exchange hands." Chan scoffs, and the parents start arguing within themselves – mostly your mother defending herself and your father rolling his eyes as he fishes his wallet out, eager to pay your mother's debts.

"We're outta here." You announce, grabbing your coat off the rack. Your father gives you a nod, "We'll be here a while, it seems. Be safe, honey."

You nod, placing a kiss on Rosie's head before you leave. "Thanks, babycakes." "You're welcome, sissy." She smiles tiredly, closing her eyes as you ruffle her hair. You slip out, Chan closing the door behind you as you tug your coat on. "We're not actually going on a drive, you know that, right?" His gaze is pointed, and you roll your eyes as you pull him off his porch, the cold winter air nothing in comparison to the heat on your skin as you fumble for your keys. He keeps his hands off you as you both make your way to your house, your fingers trembling in excitement as you stick the key in the lock and turn it. You push the door open carefully, and he slides in behind you, shutting it with his foot and locking it behind him.

You peel your coat off, handing it to him to hang on the rack by the door. He's oddly quiet as he does the same, before silently taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. He lets you walk in first, locking the door behind him as you step out of your heels.

You feel his hands on your bare waist, pulling your back to him as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. You close your eyes, feeling his lips trail up your shoulder, before his teeth tug on the necklace he gave you. "Can we keep this on?" "Yeah."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss behind your ear. His hands move to your arms, "Can we take this off? Is that okay?" You nod silently, letting him slip the straps of your dress down your arms, the fabric pooling around your hips as he sighs, keeping his hands on your sides as he trails open-mouthed kisses down your spine, breathing you in like you're the only oxygen he knows. His teeth tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it over the swell of your ass with ease. The flimsy fabric falls to your feet, his teeth nipping at your hip before you feel him stand, his hands on your waist turning you around.

"I love you." He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as yours open. You look at him in the moonlight, every eyelash, every tired line, everything that is the Lee Chan you love illuminated before you. Your hands move to his shirt, "Is this where I say it, too?" Your comment makes him smile inwardly, "If you'd like. I heard you, when you kissed me. You don't have to, I know you do." You feel so vulnerable under him like this, but you know him. You know he's just as vulnerable as you are, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and untucking it from his belt. Your voice feels lost, but you clear your throat as you push his shirt down over his shoulders, revealing toned arms and the same muscular chest you loved to lay your head upon on sleepless nights.

"I love you, endlessly." You say softly, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze. He nods silently, pressing a kiss to your forehead as your hands move to his belt, carefully tugging the leather strap from the silver buckle. You pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the ground as Chan's hands come to your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently as your hands unbutton his slacks, carefully tugging the zipper down as you brush a kiss to his jaw. 

He stops you from pushing his pants down, his lips finding yours with a gentle insanity one can only describe as love. He swipes your hair back over your shoulders as he lets your hands rest on his waist, his lips pouring every single word into your mouth with a passion you'd only ever felt with him. This is the kiss you missed for three years, the soft grip of his hand in your hair as he guides his tongue against yours fluidly. This is the man you longed for unknowingly for your entire life, so loving and soft and sensual as he sucks on your tongue with a quiet moan. 

This is the love you'd patiently waited to return to you, the way you felt the cool metal of his matching ring against the warm skin of your thigh as he picked you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms draped over his shoulders. This is the love you'd wantonly waited for, the way he eased you onto your bed, not letting you untangle yourself from him as he continued to kiss you so agonizingly slow, you could feel your arousal slightly soak into the waistband of his slacks. 

This is the love you'd yearned for, where he remembers every single one of your buttons. How he doesn't stop kissing you because he knows you love the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his hand only slides from your thigh to your dripping core because he knows you hate when he's not touching you constantly. How he steadies himself above you by pinning one hand above your head, interlacing your fingers as his other hand spreads your thighs for him.

"I love you." He whispers against your lips, not giving you a chance to respond as he carefully glides two of his fingers through your slick folds, earning a shiver as he traces your clit slowly. You mewl in his ear, his skin prickling with goosebumps at how wet you are for him. He presses a kiss to your jaw, "My gorgeous girl. So perfect for me." You bite back a whimper as his hand lands a rather wet slap to your clit, your body jolting into his as he chuckles. "Still like that?" He does it again, your thighs flinching around his hips as a broken moan leaves you.

He kisses your lips, swallowing any sounds you could've let out as he stops teasing you, his fingers carefully curling into your entrance. You shudder against him, a high-pitched whine from you making him laugh against your mouth. "Feel good, baby?" His thumb circles your clit as his fingers scissor you open, the pads of his digits brushing that spongy spot inside you that makes your breathing shaky. Your walls are impossibly tight around his fingers and it makes him dizzy, feeling you clench around his hand every time he reaches that spot he knows can make you cum within minutes. "Faster, please…" You run your hand through his hair, pulling him back down to your lips. He kisses you messily, bullying his fingers into you faster and feeling you pant yes, just like that softly against his lips. "Just like that? Like it fast, baby?" He mocks you, loving the way you nod dumbly. "Love it, love you, Channie.." Your eyes are teary as he brings you to the edge, his stomach fluttering at your soft whines. You made him feel like he was on fire, overstimulating his every sense with your whimpered begging for more as he nipped at your chest, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he mimics you, "Yeah, love me? How much, princess?"

"So m-much, think about you all day. Want you all the time, f-fuck…" Your thighs tighten around his hips, "Want me all the time? You're so cute. So needy for me, huh?"

You can only nod, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes as your nails dig into his shoulder, a tell-tale sign you're going to cum if he keeps going. He pulls a guttural moan from you, his favorite of them all as you coat his hand and wrist with your orgasm. "That's it, baby. Let go for me." He works you through it, your thighs trembling just like the first night the two of you slept together, your moans becoming nothing but soft whines against his lips.

"S'too much, too much.." You push his hand away with a whimper, your eyes barely open as you watch him lick his fingers clean like he did earlier. You shift under him, blinking your eyes as wide as you can, watching the way his tongue slid between his fingers. "See something you like?" He purrs against your lips, his wet fingers flicking your lower lip as you nod your head.

"You." Your voice is soft, and you see his eyes soften slightly as he smiles shyly. You wrap your legs around him, running a hand through his hair again, tugging slightly. "Want you." "You have me, baby." He kisses you chastely, relishing in the way you chase after his lips, huffing. "Kiss me like you mean it." You pull him closer, nipping at his lower lip with your teeth as he connects your mouths. The kiss is wet and messy, and you can feel him rolling his hips into you, the tip of his clothed cock rutting against your clit deliciously. But, you want it off.

"Take your pants off. Wanna feel you." You bite at his lips, and he moans, rutting against you like he can't stop. You whimper, your hips moving in tandem with his as you reach down and snap his waistband against his skin. "Fuck." Chan breathes against your jaw, shoving his pants and underwear down with one hand before he lets go of your hand, pulling them off fully with a hiss. He moves back up to kiss you, your nails digging into his back as you hold him close, your legs tight around his hips as he grinds his heavy cock against your wet heat. You're messy but that's how he likes it – your thighs twitch with overstimulation as he ruts his cock against you, leaning up to watch the way he leaks beads of precum onto your skin. "So fucking pretty." His thumb finds your clit, smirking at the way your thighs close slightly.

"So wet, too. Messy, messy girl." He grunts in your ear, "Can I put it in? Can you take it?"

"Please." You breathe out, making him meet your eyes. "Please what, baby?"

You scoff at his teasing smile, but you don't miss the adoration in his eyes as he plants a kiss to your lips. "Use your words."

You don't respond as you pout slightly, his lips brushing against yours. Your eyes are shy as he tries to find your gaze, a hiss from behind his teeth as your fingers reach between you to wrap around his shaft, his hands fisting the sheets around your head as you align him with your entrance.

"Please? Want you." Your eyes are wide and watery, too much for him to handle. 

He caves, moving your hand out of the way to sink into you –  his tip barely breaching your walls when you hear a whimper from Chan, his eyes glued to your glistening folds. Your head falls back with a groan as he slides in deeper, a whispered chant of fuck, fuck, fuck from his lips as you clench around him. You whine, digging your nails into his bicep as you push his hips down the rest of the way with your legs, hearing him groan at the way you swallow him perfectly.

"D-Don't, don't move. Just…wait." Your eyes are screwed shut, Chan's running all over your body. A singular bead of sweat runs down your neck, his fingers instinctively reaching to wipe it. You lean into his touch, your eyes still closed as you take his hand in yours, kissing his fingertips. "I love you." "I love you too, baby." He murmurs, and you shake your head as you lean your forehead to his, holding his hand to your chest. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, "This is how I feel every time I see you. There has never been a minute of my life that I haven't been so pathetically in love with you." He doesn't respond, his eyes glazed with unshed tears as yours open. You blink at him silently, your arms moving to wrap around his neck as you press a kiss to his nose, then his cheeks. "Obsessed with you." You mumble against his skin, feeling his hands wrap around your thighs with a shaky breath. "Missed you, my baby." Your admission is followed by a kiss to his lips, Chan's eyes fluttering shut as you drag your lips down his jaw. "I missed you, my love." He whispers in your ear, the pet name one he only used during your relationship. His teeth graze on your earlobe, before he plants a kiss on your neck as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him to your lips. You slot your lips with his carefully, swallowing a whimper as you feel his hands push your thighs apart more. 

"Ready? Want me to go slow?" His voice is shaky, making you run a hand through his hair. "Whatever you want, baby."

He nods, giving an experimental roll of his hips – his chest swelling with pride as your eyes roll back with a soft groan. You let him set the pace, the delicious drag of his cock making your hands fist the sheets as your head falls back against the mattress. His fingers are bruising around your thighs, his eyes glued to your face, biting back his moans as you whine pathetically.

"Feel good?" He murmurs as he thrusts into you a little harder, before letting go of your thighs and pinning your hand above your head, interlacing your fingers. Your eyes are closed and you can barely feel your head nodding as your limbs buzz with lust, a moan meeting his neck as you mouth at it. "Need words, baby." He leans to nip at your lips, feeling your other hand tug at his hair. "Feels s'good, daddy, fuck.." Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and Chan swears his brain short-circuits as he buries his face in your neck. He feels dizzy as he breathes in your perfume, hearing you whimper as he bullies his cock into you faster. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He groans, his teeth biting at any surface of your skin as he grips your hips bruisingly. "Missed you so much, baby. W-Wanna fill you up, shit. Make you mine f-forever." His ramblings are only slightly incoherent, your cheeks warming as if you're not both naked right now, the only thing remaining is your jewelry – all of which he's given you.

"Y-Yeah? Want it, want you to fill me up..." You rasp, tightening your legs around his waist as he whimpers loudly. Your fingers rake through his hair, pulling his head away from your neck and meeting his eyes. They're full of a certain craze you've only ever seen during your relationship, a dark look of lust that swirls from the depths of the brown in his irises that makes you shiver as you press your lips to his. It's messy and rough, his hand circling the base of your neck to steady himself. Your own wrap around his wrist, sliding your tongue into his mouth with practised ease. 

He sucks on your tongue messily, whining as you clamp down around him. You feel his hand loosen around your neck, sliding up to cup your face softly, your own moving to his back. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he thrusts into you, the tip of his cock brushing you just right that you moan into his mouth.

"Right there? There?" He pulls back, pistoning his hips into you as you nod frantically, your eyes filling with tears as your nails drag down his back. He tries not to close his eyes at the sensation, loving the way you bite down on your lip when his thumb pulls it out from under your teeth. "Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna know who's making you feel good." 

You can hardly speak through your whines, his vision going blurry as your nails dig into his hips. His lips find the shell of your ear, "Come on, baby. Tell daddy who's making you this wet." Your cheeks heat as you whimper into his skin, your lower lip dragging against his sweatslick cheek. You tug at the small silver hoop in his ear, "Y-You are. Always m-make me feel s'good, daddy. W-Wanna cum for you..." You trail off as his teeth nip at your neck, your voice reduced to breathy whines as he bites down on your chest. His tongue quickly licks over the indents of his teeth, as his hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart as he towers over you. Your eyes open only enough to see the wad of spit drip from his lips, your hips jolting as it slides down your clit. 

"Don't need it. Just like seeing you squirm, baby." He murmurs, pushing your knees to your chest as he continues to fuck into you. Your eyes fall on the ruddy blush on his cheeks, his own glued to the way your cunt swallows him perfectly. His fingers tighten around your legs, his lip tucked under his teeth as he screws his eyes shut, but you can't stop looking at him. The slope of his neck, littered with nips from your teeth that'll disappear by morning. His broad shoulders, slick with sweat and covered in deep, red marks from your nails. His chest, littered with faded love bites from the past few mornings waking up by his side. His forearms, flexing with every push of his hips, similar to the way they do when he holds you up against the shower wall. The sheen of your arousal on his fingers, the gold ring on his left hand that matches yours covered in a mix of spit and your cum. It's overwhelming, the way your insides feel fuzzy and the way your vision zeroes in on his ring, the glint in the moonlight mocking you.

"I can't wait to marry you." You mumble, covering your face with your arms as Chan jerks to a stop. You can still see him through a crevice in your arms, and you watch the way he swallows carefully. "W-What?" "I said, I can't wait to marry you." You repeat slightly louder, your eyes widening as you feel him twitch inside you. He scoffs quietly, "Babe, you can't say that." His eyes close, and you hear him take a deep breath as you sit up on your elbows.

"Why? I want to marry you." You huff, your mouth opening to say more when a sudden thrust from Chan's hips knocks the wind out of you. His whimper fills the room as he spreads your thighs out of habit, "I w-won't last if you say t-that." 

You can barely speak with the way he's drilling his cock into you, his thumb working tight circles into your clit as your head falls back against the sheets with pleasure. You manage to string your words together, your stomach filling with that familiar heat as you speak, "W-We have the rest of o-our lives, b-baby…" He whines loudly as his hips are flush to yours, shuddering slightly as he fills you with his release. He has a pout on his lips as he overstimulates himself through his orgasm, leaning into your soft whines, brushing his lips against yours. "I love you." He whispers as you clench around him, the band in your lower belly snapping as you whine pitifully as his hand slides in yours.

The air around you settles, Chan reaching to brush your hair out of your eyes and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you, baby." You nod loosely, a mumble of I love you tumbling against his clavicle. You feel him pull out slowly, a hiss from the both of you filling the silence. Wincing lightly, you go to sit up but his hand on your chest stops you. "Lie down." You don't question him as he slides one of your pillows under your head – but your brows are furrowed as he kisses down your body, sinking to his knees as he reaches the edge of your bed. You sit up slightly, "Chan, are you–" He doesn't reply, looking you in the eyes as he flattens his tongue against your sloppy cunt. Your eyes widen as he looks away, his arms wrapping around your thighs carefully. You're far too sensitive for this, but you can't seem to look away as he sucks your clit between his pouty lips. "You're fucking f-filthy, Lee Chan." "Open your mouth." He shrugs as he speaks into your skin, and you scoff out a laugh. He raises a brow as he looks up at you, making your cheeks flush. You sit up on your elbows, his arms pulling you closer to his face before fucking the wet muscle of his tongue into your spent hole. Your gasp is almost unnoticeable, your eyes starry as you watch him collect the mix of your releases in his mouth.

Your thighs tremble in his hands, your mind fuzzy with overstimulation as you whine softly. He pulls away, rising off his knees and sliding his thigh between yours as his hand finds your cheek. You instinctively open your mouth as he looks into your eyes, his thumb pulling at your lower lip as he spits his release onto your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut at the taste, feeling him snake his tongue into your mouth in a wet kiss. He pushes you back against the pillow slowly, his hand moving from your cheek to interlace your fingers as his lips trail down your jaw.

"I think your parents are home." He murmurs, and you try your best to zero in on any sounds that could allude to such. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, "Do you want to stop?"

You don't respond, hearing the jingle of the doorknob as Chan tugs on your earlobe with his teeth. You cover your mouth as a breathy moan slips out, feeling Chan smile against your skin. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head frantically as you hear your mother sigh and the creak of the stairs under their footsteps. Your father's footsteps are heavy behind your mother's light ones, and you hear the door to their bedroom open, the hinges desperately in need of an oiling. It closes, and you breathe out carefully.

"I have so many questions but I can ask them later. Can you go again?" You mutter, feeling him scoff against your skin. "Is that how you're going to ask me?" "I can always just ride you until you cry like I did in the back of your car three years ago." You huff, feeling Chan pinch your hip. "Can you even hold yourself up?" He smirks down at you, making you furrow your brows.

"Watch me." "I intend to."

JANUARY 1, 5:44AM.

The only reason you and Chan stop is because he's made you soak through your sheets twice, the edge of your bed sopping wet as he carefully carries you into the bathroom. How he's even able to stand up is beyond you, your legs loosely wrapped around his bare waist as he leans to turn the water on in your shower.

You wince as he sets you down on the edge of the tub, his fingers expertly releasing the clasp on your necklace and draping it on your bathroom counter. "Don't want it to snag in your hair." He murmurs as he helps you back up, your legs hardly functioning as he makes you step into the tub. The hot water feels great against your hips, your lips parting against Chan's chest in a soft groan as he holds you to him. He laughs softly, and you feel the pads of his fingers digging into the sore muscles. "I'm sorry, baby. Maybe that last position was too much, hm?" "Fuck all the way off." You mutter, resting your cheek on his chest as he coos at you. "How's that for three ways to Sunday?" "Great. It was great, wonderful. If fucking someone three ways to Sunday was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold every time." You confess quietly, your eyes barely open as you hear him pop the cap of your shampoo. "You know, you talk a lot when we have sex." "Mmh, do I? What did I say?" You feel his fingers card through your hair, making him snicker. "For one, I think you're the one with the daddy thing. You said it more than once and I'm honestly a little impressed with your commitment to the bit…if it is a bit." "Shut up. Wash my hair like a good boyfriend." Your cheeks grow hot as he laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your hairline. "You also asked me when I'd marry you, and that you'd marry me tonight if you could." "When?" Your head snaps up to look at him, and he shrugs, a teasing smile on his lips. "If I recall correctly, you were face down–" "Enough." You turn away, pressing your forehead to his chest once more. "You're not supposed to make fun of me, I was vulnerable." "M'not making fun of you, baby. I'm absolutely enamored with you, I'd also marry you tonight if you'd allow it." He shrugs as he tilts your head back to rinse your hair, and you pout up at him. "I have a question." "Shoot." He feels your hands trace his torso, before you flick his hip. "What is this?" He looks down, the faded tattoo you'd been wondering about peeking through your fingers. He sighs, "It's a tattoo, babe. What else would it be?"

"Well for one, it's shitty. Second of all, of what?" You run your thumb over his skin, making him snort. "It is shitty, because I was drunk and I got it done with Soonyoung and Mingyu at their friend Seungcheol's apartment. It's also shitty because Seungcheol wanted someone to practice his fine line technique on and I was so wasted that I volunteered." "You've never been that reckless unless you're with me. Where was I? And what is it!?" You insist, and he snorts as he pours your body wash on your loofah. "It's your name. I kept saying it because I always think of you when I'm drunk and Seungcheol assumed it was what I wanted. It was actually very pretty when it was new, it's just faded now. There's a little red splotch somewhere, it was a heart."

He nods as you gape at him, "My name?" "It was two years ago. I was actually going to call you before Soonyoung threw my phone in the pool and told me I didn't deserve to call you if I wasn't going to beg for you back. I was always willing, I was just scared you'd reject me because of how much of a douche I'd been." "How'd you explain this to your hookups?" You blurt, and he smiles. "I didn't. They always knew. I don't know if you want me to talk about that, though. Your feelings are important to me and I was so shitty to you then." "You're a dumbass, both for not just talking to me and for getting this done at someone's apartment. You should get it redone at an actual parlor, I heard Hansol does tattoos now." You trace the faded ink, and he snorts. "I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just branding me like that."

You don't say anything as he runs the sponge over your body, your eyes pointed as he scoffs. "But I'm the freak." "I counted thirty six positions, you are the freak. God forbid I want a little something to kiss before I go down on you." You roll your eyes, and you hear him choke as he pushes you back slightly under the water. "Careful, you'll sound like me if you keep that up." "Oh my God, I fucking asked you if I was too rough! You insisted I keep going!" He whines, landing a soft smack to your thigh as he washes your legs. You snicker, holding onto his shoulders, looking down at the red lines you'd inflicted. "Oh, your back is gonna hurt, babe." "Well worth it, in my opinion. I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind yesterday." He sighs as he stands upright, your arms wrapping around his waist as he presses a kiss to your hairline. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get my shit together, my love." "You know you've never called me that outside of those two months we were together?" You murmur, and he nods. "Mmh. Can't call you something you aren't, can I? I mean, you'll always be the love of my life but you weren't exactly mine and I didn't deserve you then, anyway." "And you do now?" You ask softly, and he shakes his head as he switches you out to stand under the showerhead, wincing as the hot water hits his back. "No. I'm always going to be undeserving of you, especially after the shit I pulled. But I have no problem spending my lifetime proving that I love you."

You don't reply, holding onto him silently as he cleanses himself. Your eyes linger on the flexing of his muscles, the way his face twitches as your body wash stings the aftermath of your nails digging into his back. "I'll be nicer next time." You assure him as he rolls his eyes, a mumble of no you won't from his lips as he presses a kiss to your hairline.

The sun is beginning to peek into your bedroom by the time you and Chan exit, and you sit in your bathrobe as Chan strips your sheets. He makes your bed in silence, hiding his yawns with shakes of his head and fishing through your drawers for his old clothes. He finds a pair of sweatpants and an old cheer shirt of his, tugging them on before easing your tired form into your own pajamas. You nearly trip as he slides your shorts up your legs, his fingers cheekily pinching the swell of your ass as you swat at him.

"Unlock the door." You remind him as he slides you under the fresh blankets, and he nods, his breath minty from your toothpaste as he presses a kiss to your nose. He unlocks it quietly, checking the time on his phone before sliding in next to you. "What time is it?" "Almost seven. Rosie's gonna barge in here." He mumbles as you settle on top of him, your head on his chest as his hand slips under your shirt with a sigh. "I love you." "I love you, Channie." You murmur into his shirt, your eyes heavy as he pulls you impossibly closer, planting a kiss on your cheek without a word.

3:41PM.

You're the first to wake up, feeling like a train hit you as your muscles take in the absolute marathon you put yourself through with Chan the night before. You grimace as your back pops, stretching carefully so as to not wake up your boyfriend – who is curled into your chest, his arm hanging off your hip. Biting back your smile, you carefully run your fingers through his hair before sighing inwardly. 

Sitting up slowly, you see something on your dresser. It's a framed photo, and a Polaroid tucked into the corner of the frame. You squint at it, unable to make out the shapes without rubbing at your eyes. Chan stirs next to you, a pout on his lips as he peels his eyes open. "Lay down, I'm cold."

"Hang on." You slide out of bed, wincing as you stand up. Your eyes land on the photo once more as you stand in front of your dresser, and it's you and Chan in a gold frame. It's the night of the Christmas Eve dinner, and it's slightly blurry but you can see the way you're smiling up at Chan shyly, and the way his eyes are starry as he looks down at you. It's the photo Rosie took, the one she didn't let you look at.

The Polaroid is also of you and Chan, in your bed with the same clothes you have on now. They must've walked in in the morning when neither of you responded, because you're both sound asleep in the photo. He's holding you close, and your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your promise ring glinting against his neck in the flash of the camera. Your foreheads are pressed together, cheeks flushed in the soft morning light.

The note sits under the frame, and you look closer at the frame. Between You and Me, it reads, and you feel your cheeks heat as you slip the note out.

We've been trying to teach Rosie how to be careful with her money, because your mother started giving her an allowance a few weeks ago. She wanted to get you a Christmas gift but didn't know what you liked, and instead of asking…she took your camera from when you were a little girl and snapped a photo of you and Chan at Christmas Eve dinner. She told me when we were getting the photos developed that she thought Chan was really important to you, and that she knew she was, too – so it was like a win-win situation, to give you a gift of the things you cherish the most.

She's pretty good at making something out of nothing, and she begged me to take her to that old thrift store you loved in high school. She found this frame near the old book section that you walked through a lot, too. So profound for a child, but I digress. The Polaroid is from me, consider it an apology for allowing your mother to make such insane bets when we all knew that the two of you were bound to fall in love. P.S. Rosie's pretty good at capturing beautiful moments. Do you think she'd make a good wedding photographer? ♡

– Dad.

Your vision is blurry as you feel the heat of Chan's body behind you, his fingers carefully picking the frame up and looking at it. "You're so in love with me." He murmurs, and you half expect to look up and see him smiling – but his face is serious, his thumb ghosting over your face in the photo. You swallow nervously as he stares at the photo, clearing your throat.

"I am. Is that…okay?" You whisper, and he nods silently, closing his eyes as he sets the photo down. "We're taking that home, right? We can't leave it here. I want to see it everyday." He's not looking at you, holding the Polaroid gingerly in his hand. You watch as he sets it back down, his fingers plucking the note from your hand, leaning against the dresser as he reads it. He's blinking back tears and you feel your chest warm as he sighs, running his hand over his face. "We need to get Rosie that Lego set your dad said no to. The really big one, what was it?" "Rosie has never even seen Titanic. She just wants it because she thinks the boat is cool, and my dad said no because it's seven hundred dollars." You snort, and he shakes his head. "Don't care. She needs it. I need to buy it, where are your keys?" 

"We'll take my dad's, I don't feel like moving her booster seat." 

You smile to yourself as your boyfriend hands you a pair of jeans to slide on as he roots around for his socks, and you quietly slip out of your bedroom after tugging them on. You see your parents sitting around your dining room table, a few drinks and a deck of cards spread out between the four of them. Rosie sits quietly in Mrs. Lee's lap as Mrs. Lee explains the game, and you clear your throat. "Good afternoon." You say softly, and the parents turn their heads to look at you. They're smiling, and Rosie lights up, wiggling out of Mrs. Lee's lap and running towards you. "Did you like my present!? I made it for you!" "I know, babycakes. I loved your present." You pick her up, holding her on your hip as she moves your hair out of your face. You turn to your father, who has a knowing look on his face. "You mind if I take her for a bit? Chan wants to buy her something." "No sugar. She got a filling this morning." Your mother murmurs over her cards, taking a sip of her drink as she nods. Rosie huffs in your grasp, about to protest when Chan appears behind you. "Hey. Ready?" 

His cheeks are ruddy as he greets your parents, and none of them say a word as you tug on your boots as he makes Rosie fetch her coat. She's nearly bouncing off the stairs as she runs back down, and Chan helps her put it on as she eagerly asks what she's getting and why she's getting it.

"Titanic." Chan shrugs, and your father nearly spits out his drink as you shove the two of them out of the door, grabbing his car keys off the hook. "Y/N! Don't buy her that, it's too expensive!" "Can't hear you, Pop! See ya!" You grin cheekily, slipping out the front door and seeing Chan and Rosie giggling as he buckles her into her seat. Your heart warms at the sight, and you make eye contact with Chan as he shuts the door. He smiles, tilting his head towards the passenger side door as he opens it for you. You climb in silently, his eyes watching your every move. "You okay?" "I love you."

EPILOGUE – JANUARY 7, 5:30AM.

"Do you have to go?" You'd already stayed four more days than you'd originally planned, and you were really cutting it close by driving back on a Sunday. Rosie's eyes are tired and pleading as you hold her on your hip, Chan struggling to shove the last bag into your trunk as you snicker. "We do, babycakes. But don't worry! I'll come home with Channie in April for your birthday! Isn't that fun?" "I guess." She pouts, resting her head on your shoulder. "Will you call me everyday?" "Yes, I'll call you everyday." You nuzzle your nose to hers as Chan huffs, slamming your trunk shut. "Babe, someday you're going to have to pack this car and you'll understand why I sleep on the way back to campus." He's red in the face as your mother ventures outside to retrieve your little sister, Mrs. Lee in tow with a bag full of goodies for the trip back to campus. You smile softly at your mother as she takes your now crying sister, your heart aching as you wipe her tears.

"Don't cry, Rosie. We'll be back soon, I promise." Chan nods, holding his pinky out for your little sister to take. She sobs into your mother's parka as she does so, and your mother gives you a warm smile. "You guys take care of each other, okay? No more breaking up!" "No more breaking up." You both repeat, your cheeks flushing as Mrs. Lee gives you both a hug goodbye. Your father appears, holding up two tumblers full of hot chocolate and Mr. Lee hands Chan an envelope. "Pocket money. Don't let Y/N starve on the way home, she told us you only fed her beef jerky." "I did not!" He begins to protest, but you clap your hand over his mouth with a wide smile. "Thank you, Mr. Lee. I appreciate you worrying about my appetite." The goodbyes are not nearly as sappy as they usually are, but you know it's because they're looking forward to graduation. It will approach fast, you know you'll lose yourself in the excitement of it all and best of all, Chan will be right there with you. You're in the car waving to Rosie until you turn the corner, before your shoulders sag against your seat. You pout, making Chan smile as he reaches to pinch your cheek.

"Rosie will be okay, baby." "I know, I know. I just wish I was around more to see her grow up. She won't think I'm as cool by the time I'm finally around to hang out and stuff." "Babe, she's seven this year. She's gonna think you're cool." He rolls his eyes as he stops at a red light, connecting his phone to the aux and handing it to you. You sigh, unlocking his phone to see a photo of you and Rosie at the Lego store on New Year's Day as his home screen, paired with the same sentimental baby picture that rested in your locket as his lock screen – that one never changed. You say nothing as your cheeks warm, opening his Spotify and pressing shuffle as he turns left to take the exit to get onto the expressway.

You both tense as you hear the beginning notes of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic. He gives you a sideways glance as the lyrics start pouring through, and you clear your throat quietly.

"There's an exit…up ahead. It leads–" "Into the woods, yeah. I'm just gonna–" "Yeah. Should I-" "Start taking your coat off, mhm." "Got it. Are you gonna–" "Yup. Didn't bring any condoms with me." Your cheeks flush as you queue the same stupid sex playlist you made three years ago as he silently takes the exit before the one for the expressway, tonguing his cheek as he drives into the still-dark solace of the woods. You have your shirt off by the time he finds the same spot you found three years ago, and by the time he kills the engine, you're in the backseat.

"Hey, Chan?" The opening notes of Kiss It Better by Rihanna fill the car as he all but rips his coat off.

"Yes, Y/N?" "I love you." He smiles, kissing you tenderly as he lays you down in your backseat.

"I love you, baby."

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

[lanadelnegan]

Cherry 🍒

S7 Negan x Virgin Female Reader

Summary: You sneak into Negan’s bed in the middle of the night and seduce him into ‘popping your cherry.’

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is mid 40's), unprotected sex, Negan taking your virginity & being sweet with you, mentions of family death, bleeding during sex, oral (both receiving), sitting on Negan’s face, breeding

Note: this is pure filth. If you’re uncomfortable with extreme age-gaps, please don’t read.

You shivered as your bare feet quietly shuffled down the cold hallway, stopping right outside the leader's bedroom door. The sounds of Negan's light snoring filtered through the cracks as you softly pushed the door open, pleased to find it unlocked. You tiptoed your way over to the empty side of his bed before sliding underneath his soft white sheets and inhaling the unique scent of him - leather and fresh linen.

You've always felt comfortable with him. Negan welcomed you to the sanctuary with open arms about a year ago when you were seventeen, after your father passed away. His men found you walking along the road one day and brought you back to Negan, who immediately took you under his wing and made you feel safe for the first time since your father died.

You're not like his wives. More like the daughter he never had and he's made that boundary crystal clear on more than one occasion. You've made several subtle advances towards Negan in the past.. All of which he has politely rejected by changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you.

Still, this doesn't stop you from quietly moaning his name when you touch yourself at night.

"Negan.." You whispered cautiously as you snuggled into the sheets. This wasn't the first time you crawled into his bed at night, feeding him lies about nightmares you never even had. However, this time.. you were determined to get what you wanted.

During your recent previous attempts, you'd remain on your side of the bed and Negan wouldn't even know you were there usually until the next morning - lecturing you when you woke up about how sneaking into his bed is inappropriate. You hated when he used that word. Like a strict school teacher.

A few moments of silence passed until you boldly shuffled closer to him, wrapping your hand around his arm and snuggling your face into his bicep. You breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his soft skin as your legs delicately pressed into his underneath the blanket.

"The hell are you doin' y/n?" He asked, his sleepy voice deeper and raspier than usual and it made your heart flutter.

"Can't sleep."

"I think we both know you're lyin', doll. You know you can't stay in here. We've had this discussion. It's ina-"

"Yeah yeah I know. Inappropriate, geez." You interrupted him, rolling your eyes in the dark.

"Exactly, so why are you in my bed?"

"My.. dreams. They keep waking me up."

"Nightmares again?" He asked, using a softer tone this time.

"No.. no nightmares this time. Just.. dreams."

Negan shifted uncomfortably next to you, scooting up a little in the bed and wrapping his arm around you in the process. "What kinda dreams, doll?"

You snuggled into the nook of his armpit, getting practically drunk off his manly smell as your hand carelessly glided over his shirtless, hairy torso until settling on his lower abdomen.

Without missing a beat, Negan placed his hand over yours, moving it higher on his torso. "Y/n.." He said like a warning, sternness dripping from his tone.

You ignored him, refocusing your attention back to his previous question. "I dunno.. they're just.. like.. sexual dreams, and then I wake up and I'm all frustrated because I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Stop." He sighed with frustration, running a hand down his face. "Fucking christ, y/n. You cannot say shit like that in front of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're my daddy or anything." You teased him, sliding your hand to his lower stomach once again. You almost whimpered when your fingertips brushed over the soft curls peaking out of the waistband of his boxers and your stomach fluttered when he didn't stop you this time.

He let out a long sigh, glancing down to your hand that teased the sensitive skin under his waistband. "Baby...fuck. We can't." He said almost painfully.

"Okay.. I get it." You said defeatedly, removing your hand and shifting to turn over before he stopped you, pulling you back in.

He sighed, like he was about to regret asking you this. "What happens.. in your dreams?"

With the moonlight beaming through the window, you managed to catch a glimpse of the lust that flickered in his gaze before his hazel eyes dropped to your lips.

"You treat me different.. like.. one of your wives."

"Yeah? And how's that, baby?" He asked curiously as his lips hovered next to yours.

"You.. kiss them." You stated hesitantly, hoping it was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see your cheeks burning red.

"Oh? Are you jealous, doll?"

"...a little." You admitted, making him chuckle.

He tilted your chin up, lightly gripping your jawline as his eyes dropped to your lips. He stared at them as if he was contemplating if he should give you what you want.

"One kiss, y/n." He said, closing the gap between you and pressing his soft lips to yours. You whimpered into his mouth, earning a slight smirk from him as he pushed his talented tongue past your lips. You couldn't believe you were finally tasting him and you savored every second of it.

He kissed you until your lips were sore, tangling his fingers through your hair and groaning every now and then, making your panties soaked.

You slid your leg over his until his muscular thigh was pressed right up against your aching center and you couldn't help but grind against it, desperate for some friction.

"Y/n." He warned, knowing what you were doing beneath the covers.

"Please, Negan."

His solid erection pressed into your stomach each time you moved your body against his and you imagined the way it would feel inside of you.

“Please what?” He said in between kisses, allowing you to use his thigh to get yourself off.

“Please let me come."

"I'm not touching you, y/n. But I can't stop you from coming."

And that was all the permission you needed to grind against him harder and bring yourself to an orgasm just from humping his thigh.

You buried your face against his neck and rode out your high, whining and whimpering as you soaked through your panties. "Oh my god, oh my god, Negannnn."

"Satisfied now, doll?" He chuckled.

"No.. I need this." You said, pressing your palm against the hard bulge in his boxers. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking for, sweetheart."

"I do, Negan. I know exactly what I want.. And I've wanted you for so long." You kissed his neck as you rubbed his cock through the material. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me too."

He sighed, accepting that you were right. "Maybe. But we can't always get what we want, doll."

You grinned, taking that as a challenge as you slid lower beneath the blanket, kissing his chest. "Why not?"

"Baby.."

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." You said, wanting to earn his consent before climbing over his legs and settling in between them. He sighed again, turning all the way over on his back to allow you better access.

You licked a line from the bottom of the trail of hair that led up to his belly button, earning a moan from him as he slightly lifted his hips in response. "Baby, you don't have to-"

"You said you wouldn't touch me, but you didn't say I couldn't touch you." You explained, pulling his boxers down slowly. You watched closely as his cock sprung free, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. You wondered how you'd fit it in your mouth, much less your pussy.

"It's so.. big.." You said, wrapping your hand around it. Your mouth fell slightly open at the velvety feeling of it as you stroked it up and down in your palm.

Negan was propped up on his elbows as he watched you through heavy, lust-filled eyelids. For once, he was speechless, waiting for your next move.

You lowered your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and wrapping your lips around it softly. You sucked on just the tip as you looked up at him through your brows and watched his head fall back while the prominent vein in his neck bulged against his skin. Lowering yourself deeper, he let out a long groan when he felt himself in the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuuck, baby. Feels so fuckin' good."

You bobbed your head up and down on him until your jaw ached, wanting to make him proud. Finally, he pulled your head off of his length, and you watched as the precum leaked from his red, swollen tip. His breaths were heavy as he looked down at you. "Fuck, that's enough. You're gonna make me come, sweetheart.

"I want to taste you, Negan.. please?" You begged, looking up at him innocently.

"Yeah? You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nodded as wrapped your lips around his thick length again, tasting the bead of salty precum. You moaned at the new taste, sucking firmly over and over until you felt more of his warm liquid spurt out, coating the back of your throat. You moaned around him again, not taking your mouth off of his cock until you swallowed every drop.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched you. "Goddamn. What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? When did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Just now. That was my first time." You shrugged, shuffling up his body until your legs straddled his waist and you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor and exposing your perky, bare breasts to him.

You pinched your own nipples teasingly as you bit you lip and stared down at him.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said, watching you play with your nipples.

"You don't wanna touch?" You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip.

"Of course I wanna fuckin' touch you, y/n. You have no idea. I wanna touch every inch of you." He sighed, leaning up on his elbows again until his face was inches away from your chest. "But, I can't."

"Then don't use your hands.. lick me instead." You insisted.

He looked up at you through his brows before his gaze returned to your breasts. You leaned forward, brushing your nipple against his beard until it hardened even more. When it brushed his lips, he instantly took it into his mouth and groaned, sucking it gently. After a few moments, he switched to the other one, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back while your fingers intertwined in his slick, black hair.

"Negannn." You breathed out, and he finally pulled away.

"Take those panties off and sit on my fucking face. Now." He demanded, laying flat on his back.

You eagerly obeyed him, quickly removing your panties and climbing over his face before lowering yourself down slowly. You hovered over him lightly, not wanting to press all the way down until his hands roughly pulled you closer.

"I said, sit." He said before burying his face in your cunt. The tip of his nose pressed against your clit as his tongue devoured your dripping hole and he moaned with approval.

You lifted slightly, being too sensitive too his touch, but he leaned forward, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. You cried out as your orgasm instantly rushed through you and you soaked his face. You came hard and fast, but he didn't mind as he moaned loudly, lapping up your juices. You tried to climb off of him, but he held you in place, still licking you like his life depended on it.

"Negan.." You blushed.

"Hm?"

"That's enough." You giggled.

"I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy, doll. You wanted me, now you've fuckin' got me."

His words made the butterflies somersault in your chest. You hoped he meant it. You hoped he loved you the way you loved him.

"Lay down for me." He said, finally letting you climb off of him.

You did as he said, getting comfortable on your back as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. Looking down, you noticed he was rock hard again and he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly in between your wet folds.

"Negan.. I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it, doll?" He asked, leaning over you and holding himself up with his palms on either side of your head on the mattress.

"I-I've never done this before."

He smirked, looking into your eyes. "I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I hear everything in this place, y/n. I've heard you talking about me to your friends." He pressed his lips to yours before looking at you again. "I've heard you moaning my name at night in your bed while you touch that pretty pussy. I know everything about you, doll. I pay attention, even when you think I'm not."

You blushed at his words as you stared up at him speechless, making his smile widen. "So adorable when you're embarrassed."

He kissed you again, so hard that it took your breath away and in that moment, you knew you were head over heels in love with this man. You just wondered if he felt the same.

“What else happens in your dreams, baby? Do you let me fuck this little pussy?” He whispered in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Y-yes.” You managed to choke out, making him chuckle.

He leaned back up, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as the other fell open for him.

“You ready for me to break you in, sweetheart? Pop that sweet little cherry?”

"Fuck, yes. Please." You whined, scooting closer to him until the tip of his cock brushed against your sex.

Negan chuckled lowly, pressing the head of his cock right against your hole. He watched you intensely as he pushed just the tip in, stopping before he went any further.

“You good, baby?” He asked, making sure you were good to continue. Once you nodded, he slid slightly deeper, feeling resistance before pushing through with a force.

You cried out at the sudden ripping sensation, making him stop again.

“No.. keep going.” You urged him, already aching from how he was stretching you, but you needed him to fill you completely. So he did, pushing himself all the way in with one swift thrust.

Your mouth fell open silently as he pressed against your cervix and let out a growl.

He fell over you again, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. “You did it, baby.” He praised you softly. “I am so fuckin proud of you.”

He moved slowly, making you deliberately feel every inch of him. He repeated this motion until your face was on fire and your lower abdomen tingled.

"Fuck, y/n. You are so fucking tight." He said through gritted teeth, looking down between the two of you as he leaned back up on his knees.

"Oh fuuck, look. at. that, doll."

You leaned up on your elbows, looking down and widening your eyes when Negan pulled out of you, revealing his blood covered cock.

His thumb reached down to swipe a trail of your blood off his dick before bringing it to this mouth. You watched him enamored as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you and he moaned with satisfaction. You blushed hard at the sight of Negan tasting your blood.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Negan.” You answered without question, following it with a moan as he pushed back into you without warning.

“That’s right, doll. This pussy? Is mine now. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” You cried, as he pumped into you faster.

"Ow. Ow, fuck. It hurts."

“I know baby. I know. You want me to stop?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please don’t stop. I want it harder.”

He smiled down at you proudly as his hips bucked into you harder and your eyes clenched shut as your fingers gripped the sheets.

Looking down between the two of you again, he groaned at the sight of your blood completely coating his cock and leaking out of you with each thrust.

You whined and whimpered, desperately wanting to come again. He grinned knowingly, pressing his thumb to your clit and making your body shutter. "You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded as tears flooded your eyes and his finger started working over your clit more intensely.

"Yes, yes. Please make me come."

He fucked you fast and rubbed your clit in perfect circles, watching you come undone around him. Once your walls were done convulsing around him, he fell over you again, kissing your neck and groaning in your ear. "That's it. That's my good girl."

Wet noises filled the air as he fucked you unforgivably hard. "You gonna let me cum in this pussy, baby?" He asked, biting your earlobe.

You couldn't speak, so you nodded as your vision went cloudy and his thrusts became more erratic until he stopped suddenly, pushing himself balls deep inside of you as his dick pumped you full of cum and he growled in your ear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby." His thrusts started again, soft and light this time as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you. He kissed your jawline, then your lips, before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. And goddamn I love this pussy."

[ackermonie]

“listen. i’m telling you again. we’re NOT telling her i got you that lego set for winning that fight, am i clear?”

megumi nods with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “i don’t think she’s gonna be as mad as you think she will be. this isnt the first time this happens, you know?”

“regardless, the lego set remains unmentioned,” satoru points at megumi with a serious index finger, to which megumi rolls his eyes again as he resumes setting the dining table. “the tone of her voice on the phone said she’s coming for blood. i don’t wanna be on her bad side.”

“oh? so you set me up instead?!” megumi lets go of the plates to cross his arms over his chest. “is the strongest really such a scaredy-cat, now?”

“i’m not scared!” satoru is offended, even though he’s about to piss his pants. “and I wasn’t the one that decided that beating up 8 fucking kids on one go was the brightest idea ever, was i?”

“but you rewarded me for it!”

“he did what?”

the two of them freeze in their place, eyes widening as they hold each other’s gazes, too scared to look at the source of the voice coming from the kitchen entrance.

they stay quiet for a solid amount of seconds, and you remain unmoving. gojo gestures for megumi to look at you first, to which megumi replies with a subtle shake of his head, a thin sheet of sweat breaking on his forehead.

“i asked a question.”

thunder is rumbling, and when gojo decides to, very slowly, shift his gaze to you, it’s a scene right out of a horror movie when lightening strikes and thunder rolls on cue. you’re standing at the entrance, drenched from head to toe, a cut or two fresh on your face. your uniform remains unscathed, save for the water dripping to make a little damp pool beneath your feet.

“you’re home early, sweets,” gojo tries to approach, but you pin him in place with a glare. his nervous grin gradually falls from his face. “how was the mission?”

he hears footsteps approaching quickly, and when tsumiki comes to a halt behind you, seeing the state you’re in, she begins to slowly retreat despite satoru’s look of despair at her.

“you rewarded him.” you echo megumi’s words. the 14 year old swallows hard, eyes sliding from you to the suddenly more interesting kitchen sink. “he almost gets expelled, and you reward him.”

“but he didn’t get expelled!” satoru chuckles cheerfully. “he apologized, and all! didn’t you, megumi?” he nudges the teenager’s shoulder pushing him a bit forwards so he can take some of the impact himself. he lowers himself a bit to mumble to him through his teeth. “who’s the scaredy -cat now, huh?”

“I-i—“

“i leave the house for a couple of days— not even a couple, this was a day and a half, and i have to wrap my mission up quickly because my son’s being turned into a delinquent with his dad’s support?”

it takes satoru a couple of seconds to register the words that just came out fo his partner's mouth. he immediately looks at the flustered teenager by his side, to find a light blush on his cheeks and neck.

something warm settles behind gojo's ribcage. it was never addressed, that they're practically family. the only d word megumi calls gojo is dick, but fuck, by the look on megumi's face, the way his skin is painted pink, he knows that the seemingly stoic kid feels the same.

satoru doesn't even think you realize the way you addressed them.

tsumiki peeks her head from behind you. there's a sweet smile growing on her sweet face that he catches. he tries not to smile, he really does, but something in his demeanor is shattering right before his eyes.

"satoru!" you raise your voice, a frustrated frown painting your features, but all satoru feels is the love spreading through his body, his fingertips buzzing with it and all. "this is not rewardable behavior!"

"don't be mad at him..." megumi mumbled, finally taking a step forward. your gaze shifts to him, but he's looking anywhere but you. "he only wanted to cheer me up. this is my fault."

your eyes can't help but soften. gojo watches the change of expression in awe.

"if it helps, they were bullies." satoru chimes in a much softer voice, matching the look on your face. he ruffles the boy's hair, who doesn't push his hand away for the first time in a while. "it's just that megumi here has his own way of doing good. peculiar," gojo pauses with a little laugh when the teenager finally pushes his hand away grumpily. "but he's still doing good."

you finally spot the scar on his cheekbone, one that's already been tended to by satoru it seems, but you still walk across and hold his cheeks in your hands to check it out. its really not that deep, but something still tugs at your heart.

and satoru is still watching the changes of your expression, taking note of every little one. he knows you all too well, you see, and he knows that you're about to start tearing up any second now.

"why don't you guys go fetch angry mom here a towel or two?" he addresses the children, grabbing your wrist to let go of megumi, who looks too guilty for his own good right now. he brings you closer to him instead. "I'm afraid she'll only be grumpier if she catches a cold."

megumi hesitates, but tsumiki calls for him, understanding the cue better than her younger brother.

once they were both out of sight, gojo chuckles in endearment when you shove your face in his chest, uncontrollable tears escaping past your heavy lids. he grabs your head with one hand while the other holds you to him, soaked and all.

"oh baby," he sighs. he doesn't think he's ever been happier than this moment right here. "you just called him my son."

you punch him right in the gut. he groans out in pain, but his hold never wavers on you. "he is your son."

"i think we both prefer the name long-term pain in the ass, but that will do." he raises your head to look at him, and when he sees that red nose and tears down your cheeks, he can't help but giggle some more. "god, you're literally the best thing to ever happen to me."

"shut up." your cheeks burn in his hands, and you're unable to look away. "I was so scared something had happened to him. i would've never forgiven myself."

"the fuck do you take me for?" satoru fakes offense, raising an eyebrow down at you. you roll your eyes at him, from which he takes even more offense, letting you go with a scoff of disbelief. he dramatically removes his sunglasses and crosses his fingers in front of him. "I'll hollow purple your ass so hard right now and you'll never live to tell the tale."

"sure, honey," you pat him on the chest with one hand and wipe away your tears with the other, beginning to turn away from him with a, now more subtle, eye-roll. "whatever you say."

he grabs you and pulls you flush to him again, this time capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that has your whole body letting loose right there in his arms. your arms wrap around his neck like a reflex, and he squeezes you into him, a dull ache beating in him to just merge your bodies into one,, to have you in his very bones, and maybe even then it wouldn't be quite enough.

"i would rather be torn in two than let something happen to any of you," he breaks away from the kiss to peck your nose. you look into his eyes, and it worries you just how true his statement is. "what else do I have to fight for?"

=====================================

more?

[meazalykov]

custom shoes

kika nazareth x nikesigned!reader

summary: a pair of cleats starts to cause speculation about your relationship

you stand on the field, feeling the anticipation of the el clásico simmer in the air around you. 

barcelona and real madrid—it’s always been a heated matchup, but tonight feels different. tonight, you're debuting something personal, something that you helped create. the teal, ivory, and navy blue cleats on your feet shine under the stadium lights with the black away kit, and you can't help but glance down at them for a brief moment, smiling to yourself.

they're more than just shoes—they’re yours. and soon, they’ll be in stores all over, thanks to nike.

as you tug at your jersey and adjust your socks, you spot kika in the distance, warming up with the rest of the team in the starting lineup. she catches your eye for a second, and even from afar, you see that playful glint in her eyes. 

she's wearing the same cleats as you. a knowing grin tugs at your lips. she gives you a wink, her subtle way of telling you that she sees you. no one knows yet that you’d gotten her her own pair before nike even announced them. 

not just because she’s your teammate but because, well, she’s more than that.

“you ready?” kika jogs over to you, casually glancing down at your shoes as if she hadn’t been admiring them all week. 

her voice drops a little lower, a whisper just for you. 

“you look good in those, by the way.”

“i know,” you tease back, nudging her gently with your elbow. 

“and you look good in them too. we have to be careful; people are already questioning about these.”

she chuckles, her eyes flicking towards the rest of your teammates. 

“let them talk.”

you laugh under your breath, but she's right. fans had been obsessing ever since both of you had been spotted wearing the same cleats in practice last week. a few eagle-eyed supporters had even posted side-by-side pictures online, questioning why kika had the cleats before they were officially released. and now, with both of you about to wear them in one of the biggest games of the season, the excitement would only grow.

“do you think they’ll figure it out?” you ask, half-joking, but there’s a nervous edge in your voice.

“about the cleats or about us?” kika arches a brow.

“both.”

she smirks, pulling you into a quick side hug before anyone notices. 

“we’ll deal with it when we have to. just focus on madrid. they’re the ones we need to beat tonight.”

you nod, taking a deep breath. she’s right, like always. madrid is your focus right now. the cleats, the relationship, all of that can wait. 

soon after—the whistle blows, signaling the start of the match, and you slip into your game face, letting the energy of the stadium and the roar of the fans fuel you.

the first half is intense. madrid plays with their usual aggression, but your team is just as hungry for the win. you weave through defenders, your feet feeling light, like the cleats were made just for this moment. 

in a way, they were. every sprint, every touch of the ball feels perfect. like the shoes were an extension of you.

“y/n! here!” caro calls out, breaking you from your thoughts.

you spot her making a run on the right wing, and you send a perfect pass her way. she controls it beautifully, then sends it back to you just outside the box. 

without hesitating, you take the shot. the ball sails past the madrid keeper, and the stadium erupts.

one-nil.

kika is the first to reach you, wrapping her arms around you as the team piles on in celebration. her grip on you lingers for just a moment longer than it should, but you don’t mind. it's these small moments that make everything worth it. 

when the crowd settles, you give caro a quick smile, a silent thank you for setting up the goal.

the game resumes, and madrid retaliates hard. however, you're in the zone. each passing minute, your confidence grows. your cleats feel like magic beneath you, propelling you forward, giving you that extra edge.

in the 55th minute, you get another chance. a quick one-two with kika, and you're through on goal again. this time, you slot it calmly into the bottom corner.

two-nil.

as the crowd goes wild again, you spot kika grinning at you, her eyes filled with pride. you jog over to her, and she playfully nudges you.

“two goals, huh?” she says, her voice teasing but proud. 

“you’re really showing off those cleats.”

“had to make them worth the hype,” you reply, breathing heavily but smiling.

the final whistle blows, and the game ends in a resounding victory for barcelona. the team celebrates, but as you stand with kika, you can't help but notice a few cameras lingering on the two of you, zooming in on your matching cleats.

“you think they’ve figured it out yet?” kika asks, glancing down at her shoes, then back at you.

“about the cleats?” you ask, even though you know she’s not just talking about the shoes.

“maybe both,” she says, echoing your words from earlier, a small smirk playing on her lips.

you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but your heart races a little. 

“if they haven't, they will soon.”

after the game, as you’re heading into the locker room, a reporter pulls you aside for a quick interview.

“y/n, incredible performance tonight. two goals in el clásico—it doesn’t get much better than that. how did it feel?”

you flash a polite smile, still riding the high from the match. 

“it felt great. madrid’s always a tough opponent, so getting the win today was huge for us.”

“and those cleats…we’ve never seen those nike boots on a player before!” the spanish reporter glances down at your shoes, clearly curious. 

“they look custom. are we getting a special release from nike soon?”

you chuckle, keeping your answer vague. 

“you’ll have to wait and see.”

kika brushes past you, standing beside ellie while catching the reporter’s eye. 

“don’t let her fool you,” she says with a wink. 

“those are going to be big.”

the reporter's eyes light up, and you know kika’s teasing just added fuel to the fire. as soon as the interview wraps up, you head into the locker room, shaking your head at her.

“you couldn’t help yourself, could you?” you say, plopping down on the bench next to her.

“what? i’m just helping build the suspense,” she replies, tossing her hair back dramatically.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh. she always knows how to make you feel at ease. but there’s a part of you that wonders if all this attention—on the cleats, on the two of you—might lead to more than just product speculation.

a few days later, nike makes the official announcement. the "y/n" cleats will be hitting stores soon, and the campaign photos of you in them flood social media. 

fans go crazy over the design, loving the combination of teal, ivory, and navy blue.

what really sets off a frenzy is when photos surface of you and kika wearing the same cleats during all of the team's training sessions, well before the release. comments flood in, speculating about how kika had her pair so early.

"are kika and y/n collaborating with nike together? where is kika in the promos?"

"why does kika have them already? besties or something more?"

the comments only intensify when someone points out the little moments the two of you share on the field. the way you celebrate goals, the subtle smiles, the touches that linger a little too long.

you scroll through the comments one night, kika sitting next to you on the couch.

“look at this,” you say, showing her your phone. 

“people are starting to catch on.”

she leans in, resting her head on your shoulder as she reads the comments. 

“i mean, we’re not exactly subtle,” she says with a laugh.

“should we be worried?” you ask, half-joking, but there’s a serious undertone to your question.

kika shrugs. 

“let them think what they want. as long as we know what we are, that’s all that matters.”

you smile, wrapping an arm around her. “yeah, i guess you’re right.”

a few weeks later, the cleats officially drop, and they sell out within hours. 

later in the month, fans post photos of their new shoes, tagging you and kika, trying to guess if the two of you had planned this all along. 

rumors about your relationship continue to swirl, but neither of you confirms or denies anything.

masterlist

[joostsblog]

HEYYAAAAA, idrk if ur takin requests right now, if u want u can discard this BUT HERES THE THING!!!!! recently my tiktok fyp has been showing a lot of hand holding like in bed (iykwim, like holding hands while fucking) and such. even in outdoors too. AND I'VE BEEN DYINGGGGGGG to imagine how it would be with aggu && reader, like oh my god🤭🤭🤭🤭 the main request here: reader just really likes to hold aggu's hands whether they're fucking or hanging out for a date, practically just loves clinging to his body!!@!1!11!! THANK YOU!

your wish is my comand :) this is part two of picnic day which I've renamed to caught in the middle and there will be more parts! read part one here

caught in the middle part two: fingers intertwined ~ a Ski Aggu / Joost Klein x reader series

My masterlist here ✨💌 caught in the middle series masterlist here

Pairing: Ski Aggu x female!reader (+ Joost Klein x female!reader)

Description: When you and Aggu are finally alone, you continue exactly where you left off.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: So this makes "picnic day" (now called "caught in the middle") officially a series! there will be more joost x reader in the future parts btw

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, oral (m receiving), protected sex, piv, swearing, not proofread

Aggu's hand lay in yours as you walked along the road to your place. Your friends were still at the park but the both of you couldn't get to a place alone any sooner. It took two hours of subtle touches to each other's arms and thighs and stolen grins before Aggu conjured up an excuse for why he had to leave earlier. "Actually, I'm also gonna bounce, I've got a bit of a headache," you had jumped at the opportunity.

"Alright, we know what's going on," Bianca had said with a knowing smile and your other friends laughed along. Except for Joost who seemed to be a little off the whole day. You had tried talking to him about your plans for your visit to Amsterdam but he just didn't seem very interested.

But you couldn't pay him much mind right now anyway. Not with Aggu's strong hand in yours and your heart beating in anticipation of what those hands could do to you once you were alone at your place. You didn't have to wait long when you unlocked the door to your flat and you rushed inside, your bag dropping to the floor, his hands found your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. You grinned up at him.

"Alright," Aggu bit his lip. "Where have we left off again?"

You took his chin into your hand and brought his face down to yours so that your lips would meet his again. He softly smiled into the kiss before his lips started moving against yours. He tightened his grip on you to bring your body closer to his. It was very sweet, you thought to yourself. It was almost as if you had been loving each other for years already. Your heart started beating faster at the thought of being with Aggu in that way. Being the one he would kiss in public, the one he would bring on tour with him, the one he would hold hands with while being out with your friends, the one he would take home every night and show just how much he loved you.

You ran your hands through his hair, almost desperately as you wished that thought would become reality somehow. As you grabbed a handful of his hair you had to stop yourself from losing yourself to this fantasy. You had to remind yourself that you had no idea whether Aggu even wanted you in this way, after all, you could also be a quick hookup to him. And just a few weeks ago you would have those thoughts about Joost anytime he would hug you or rub your shoulder gently. Aggu moaned into the kiss as you pulled at his hair and you could feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

"I need you," you mumbled against Aggu's lips and he grinned. His hand grabbed the side of your neck as his lips kissed down your jaw and neck.

"You're in luck then," he said against your skin.

You took his hand into yours and quickly led him to your bedroom. As he closed the door behind him you sat down on the edge of the bed. You looked up at Aggu with big eyes as he stood before you.

"So pretty," he mused and softly touched the side of your face, his thumb grazing your lip carefully. You grinned before you opened your lips, making Aggu's thumb slip into your mouth. You quickly wrapped your lips around Aggu's thumb and softly sucked at it. "Fuck," Aggu whispered under his breath. "I can give you something else to suck on if you want," he said and you replied with a daring grin.

Your hands flew to Aggu's belt to undo it quickly. Aggu's hands softly stroked through your hair, caressing it and tucking it behind your ears. Soon Aggu's pants were down by his ankles and you dipped your fingers into the waistband of his briefs before pulling them down as well. Your mouth watered at the sight of Aggu's thick cock, flush against his stomach. You wasted no time and placed your hands on Aggu's hips before licking up a long strip up Aggu's cock to his tip.

Aggu's head fell back with pleasure, his hands still holding your head to guide you. You wrapped your hand around the base of Aggu's cock and angled it downwards to your mouth. Your lips wrapped around Aggu's tip, your tongue playfully licking at it.

"Fuck," Aggu muttered under his breath and your lips turned into a grin around his cock.

You slowly started bobbing your head up and down his cock, your tongue quickly lapping around his tip every time you pulled back. With your other hand, you cupped his balls and started to massage them softly. Aggu's moans tumbled out of his mouth and they sounded like lullabies to your ears. The salvia on Aggu's cock mixed with his precum, his dick fully slick which made your movements even quicker and messier. You removed your hands from his cock and placed them on Aggu's upper thighs instead, your mouth now fully working on its own. As you continued sucking on his cock you could slowly feel his thighs starting to tremble under your touch, his moans growing louder and more frustrated. Suddenly you went slower, painfully slow so, and forced Aggu's dick as deep down as you could take him.

"Fuck, (Y/N)," Aggu moaned and you hummed around his dick at the sound of your name coming out of Aggu's mouth in this way. You wanted to hear him say it a thousand more times and you were ready to do whatever it took to hear it happen.

You stayed there, your mouth flush around Aggu's wide cock, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You looked up at him with big eyes. Aggu bit his lip and you could feel your panties being completely drenched in your juices. As you started to bop your head again Aggu's hand stopped you.

"Wait," he said and you were pleased to hear a tremble in his voice. "I don't wanna cum yet," he said and your heart started beating faster.

You released his cock from your mouth and propped yourself on your elbows on the bed. Looking up at Aggu with a seductive grin, you watched him devour you with his eyes. It wasn't long before he climbed on top of you and his lips kissed down your neck while his hands quickly found the hem of your top and pulled it over your head. Your bra was also promptly moved to the side and you let your head fall back in pleasure as his tongue licked over your hard nipples.

Aggu's fingers danced over the exposed skin of your stomach until he found the hem of your skirt and pushed his fingers under the soft fabric. Your chest heaved in quick breaths with anticipation of his touch. Aggu's fingers touched over your core, only the drenched fabric of your panties separating his touch from your most sensual area. Aggu moaned approvingly as he felt you through your panties. When his teeth grazed your nipple your hand quickly flew to grab Aggu's hand which he used to prop himself up on the bed, your moans also growing more high-pitched.

Aggu's fingers intertwined with yours as you laid back on the bed more and he followed your lead. His lips found yours again, your chests pressed to one another as his hips fit in between your legs, your panties the only thing barring him from entry.

"Do you have condoms here?" Aggu asked after just pulling back enough to whisper against your lips.

You nodded eagerly before leaning to the side and opening the top drawer of your nightstand. Your nervous fingers couldn't find the packet fast enough as Aggu's lips mouthed down your neck. His fingers trailed up your thighs and under your skirt. He hooked his fingers in your underwear and finally pulled them down, leaving you only in your short skirt. You quickly passed Aggu the wrapper of the condom before going to remove your skirt as well. Aggu's hands quickly stopped you.

"Can you keep it on?" he asked almost timidly. "You look so pretty like this."

Who were you to deny this man any wishes?

You watched as Aggu opened the wrapper of the condom and put it on, your chest heaving quickly as just the thought of what was about to happen almost overwhelmed you. You bit your lip as Aggu positioned himself between your legs and looked down at you with a mischievous grin.

"Please, please," you begged Aggu impatiently. You couldn't wait any longer. Aggu smiled down at you, his hand gently touching your cheek before he nudged his tip against your entrance. "Fuck," you whispered under your breath and wrapped your arms around Aggu's neck to bring his body closer to yours again. "Please fuck me already," you managed to press out.

Aggu finally slowly slid into you and your fingers dug into the skin on his back. The sensation of him filling you up completely was so heavenly you had to press your eyes shut. The touch of Aggu's hand against yours brought you back as he noticed you getting tensed up. His fingers intertwined with yours as he positioned them above your head and he propped himself up by his elbows.

As Aggu bottomed out you both let the moans fall from your mouths freely. You wrapped your legs around Aggu's hips to keep him close. His hands in yours, your eyes locked and your bodies so intimately intertwined felt way too romantic for just being two friends. But that was a problem for another day. Aggu's hips pulled back slightly before he started thrusting in and out of you, grunts leaving his mouth with each thrust. Aggu's forehead rested against yours as his cock hit all the right spots inside of you. Hearing the grunts and moans of Aggu's voice and watching his face closely as it scrunched up in pleasure only pushed you further to the edge of your orgasm which you could feel fast approaching already.

Suddenly Aggu stopped his thrusts and you started moaning frustrated. Aggu pulled out of you and his hands found your waist before he motioned you to turn around. You positioned yourself on your knees and elbows and looked over your shoulder at Aggu in anticipation. His hands roamed over the skin of your hips and ass as he pushed the fabric of your skirt up.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath and you bit down on your lip. With his hands grabbing your waist he finally pushed into you again. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper and as he started to thrust into you again, the tip of Aggu's cock brushed against that sweet spot towards your belly button inside of you that drove you crazy.

"Fuck, Aggu," you moaned loudly, not caring if anyone could hear you around. "feel - so good," you pushed out and Aggu thrust harder into you in response.

With his hands, he found your arms and pulled them to be crossed behind your back. Your face was pressed against the bedsheets which didn't do much to stifle your moans. The grip of Aggu's hands on your hands behind your back was forceful yet romantic and gentle at the same time. As Aggu's thrusts grew harder and faster you could feel your orgasm fast approaching until you couldn't stop it anymore. Your breath hitched and your body tensed up before the wave of pleasure rolled over you. The moans slipped from your mouth uncontrollably as Aggu continued thrusting into you until you could feel his hips falter. With a grunt and the grip on your hands tightening Aggu came into the condom before collapsing on the bed beside you.

You lay on your front trying to catch your breath. Aggu beside you, laying on his back. At just the right moment you both turned your heads to look at each other and you laughed.

"I'm gonna go shower," you stated weakly.

"Care if I join?" Aggu asked with a grin already knowing the answer.

~

A/N: Again, there will be more parts to this series, so keep your eyes peeled 🫶

[kitasgloves]

I'm in love with you

next track

— ♬ how haikyuu characters would tell you they're in love with you

— ♬ SFW, fluff, gn reader, no beta

— ♬ Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama was not familiar with romance, it was entirely foreign to him. He doesn't understand how people gain feelings for each other. He can't comprehend the enjoyment of having someone in your life. He thinks romance is trivial and doesn't bother associating with it. But as the typical turning point of every romance novel, someone was there to prove him otherwise.

You were in contrast to the setter. You met each other on your first day as the official manager of the SCHWEIDEN Adlers. Kageyama was curious about you. The sense of responsibility, resilience, and great humor oozed out of you that he can't help but be drawn. You were similar to a familiar orange-haired friend of his, but also different in many ways.

When he exhibited grey, you were bursting with colors. When he shines, you explode with light. When he took your kindness to heart, you brought out the best of him. After a long time of being exposed to you, Kageyama's heart can't help but beat so strongly when he's around you. It beats so strong that he fears he's going to need a second heart.

Kageyama has often thought about the beaming smile on your face, your melodious laughter, your hilarious comments, the scent of your clothes, the warmth of your skin, and the glimmer in your eyes. Kageyama concluded that he was probably going down with something, but what? The symptoms of his rapidly beating heart, his flushed face, and his antsy fingers are only present when he's around you. What the hell could this be?

"You're in love with [Name], aren't you?"

Hoshiumi teased him during their stretching after a practice match. Kageyama would've been quick to dismiss it with a logical response, but he falls silent and still. Ushijima takes notice.

"Hm, I notice the way you look at them, Kageyama"

"Yeah, you look all dazed and head over heels whenever [Name]'s around"

Their libero, Heiwajima added. Kageyama bites down an annoyed response and just shakes his head.

"I'm not in love with [Name]"

"Yes, you are"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Kageyama was about to smack Hoshiumi on the head when their captain Hirugami stepped in between them with a disappointed stare. Kageyama goes home that day, thinking about his feelings for you. He's come to accept that he has formed some sort of crush on you, but he tells himself that he doesn't want more from you. But as time progressed, these complicated feelings grew, clearly affecting Kageyama even when he was on the court. The coach had to bench him out one time because his performance wasn't up to expectations.

He had to do something about these stupid feelings because he couldn't afford to be constantly benched. Kageyama has thought about what the characters in romance novels do to confront such feelings. They express them through giving gifts and hanging out with their love interest. So, Kageyama copies them.

The setter tries to woo you by giving you small gifts during breaks, making sure he's as subtle as possible. He gains the courage to ask if you want to watch a movie with him. Kageyama thinks he's doing everything correctly when he compares your happy responses to the romance novels he read. As Kageyama grew closer and closer to you, these feelings grew as it began to stress him out.

What in the world is going on with him?

It's like he loses his athletic talents and logical thinking when you come around. It's like you've made him weak when all you did was behave the way you usually do. Kageyama frowns at the thought. What should he do next? In the romance novels, the character confesses their feelings.

Confess your feelings?

Kageyama swallowed as a bead of sweat trailed down his forehead. He thinks he should do it then maybe these feelings would go away. However, as he tries to set this plan into motion, he becomes speechless. The way you gaze at him warmly and tilt your head when he calls your name has his stomach in knots.

"Ne-nevermind"

He would say every time. Kageyama desperately wants to tell you how he feels about you but he can't fucking do it. And the frustration shows especially on the court.

"Ow! What the hell Kageyama!"

Hoshiumi complains as he fails to receive Kageyama's monstrous serve. His teammates have been murmuring how aggressive the setter was lately. They wondered what could have made Kageyama so angry. The coach blows the whistle and instructs them to take five. Kageyama sits down and aggressively wipes the sweat off his face. His eyes land on you handing the team water bottles, his leg bounces as he waits for you to come to him.

"Here you go, Tobio-hmmph!"

Everyone gawked in shock, their jaws dropping on the floor, and some dropping their water bottles. Kageyama has read somewhere in romance novels that characters sometimes confess their feelings with a kiss. So, he decides that if he can't say it, he'll show you instead.

When the setter pulls his lips away, he takes in the bewilderment in your eyes and the pink hue on your cheeks. He inhales and looks at you in the eye.

"I'm in love with you, [Name]"

All of a sudden, he can finally say it to you. Everyone cheers and hollers at the confession. The pink hue on your cheeks turned into crimson. You gently peeled yourself away from the setter, trying to come up with a response.

"I-uh, what?"

"I'm in love with you, [Name]"

Kageyama repeats. He sees you shield your face as you cutely shied away from him.

"You're joking"

"I am not"

"Oh my gosh"

Kageyama wasn't sure if he was getting rejected or friend-zoned. But as you regained your composure, you surprised him by pulling him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him. At this point, everyone loses it. When you both pulled away, Kageyama turned breathless as he blinked rapidly at you.

"I'm in love with you too, Tobio"

— ♬ Kuroo Tetsuro

Kuroo thinks his job at the JVA in the sports promotion division couldn't get more interesting until you rolled by. Initially, he viewed you as an adorable younger co-worker that he enjoys riling up. He couldn't help it when you gave him the most entertaining reactions. Immediately, the two of you created a bond of making the work atmosphere like a comedy show. Kuroo would purposely say something stupid to annoy you and you'll reply by scolding him or just whacking him on the head.

But under the comedic scene of your work relationship, Kuroo has taken a certain liking to you beyond the teasing remarks. He has grown to show ways in which he cares for you. When he's not being a teasing piece of shit, Kuroo checks on you like asking about your day or if you've eaten lunch. Sometimes he'd drag you to eat lunch with him, he'd even pay for the food. If the two of you were working overtime, he insisted on taking a heavy portion of the work so he could send you home early. When you'd protest, he'd make a clever deal to have you agree. Even the little things like lending you his jacket when you're cold, sharing his umbrella on rainy days when you don't have yours, and walking you home when it's late.

He wonders if you've noticed any of these things, he thinks he shouldn't care but he can't help but seek your reaction. Kuroo was in glee when he found you warming up to him and returning his gestures. You'd bring coffee for him in the morning, you'd share your lunch with him, and even invite him to one of your friends' birthdays. As time escalated, the somewhat relationship once filled with teasing was now replaced with unspoken tenderness.

Kuroo can act dumb and pretend. He can pretend he's not actively seeking you when in a crowded room, he can pretend that your smiles don't make his heart race, he can pretend that he doesn't care about your interests, and he can pretend that he's not falling for you. He would hide everything with his signature smirk and teasing comments, but secretly, he's dying to know if you would reciprocate his feelings.

So, he tries to quietly profess his love through his actions. Kuroo hints at his romantic feelings for you through the mundane things he would do at the office.

"I bought you coffee"

I'm in love with you

"Have you eaten lunch yet?"

I'm in love with you

"Here, you can borrow my jacket"

I'm in love with you

"I'll walk you home tonight"

I'm in love with you

There are times you're only treating every clue as his kindness and it's making his chest tight. Kuroo continues to do everything through his teasing.

"Your shirt looks like a clown vomited on it"

I'm in love with you

"Nice pants, [Name]. Did you steal them from your grandma?"

I'm in love with you

"You have the music taste of an edgy teenager"

I'm in love with you

"I hope no one has a crush on you yet because they're going to be disappointed"

I'm in love with you

You would always respond to his teasings with irritated sounds or physically hitting him. Kuroo was going mad at how every hint was flying over your head. He felt like he wanted to fistfight god. He was hoping, praying that you would take a hint and return his feelings because truthfully he was too scared to tell you.

"Just fucking tell them like the man you claim you are, Kuroo"

Kenma, his best friend, rolled his eyes at him when he told him everything about it. He hates how he was right. He needed to man up and tell you how he's absolutely lovestruck by you. By man up, he means getting drunk during a karaoke with all of his co-workers while singing karaoke. To be fair, the majority of the people were even more wasted than him. You were making fun of his drunken antics, filming them on your phone as blackmail later.

"You're wasted, Tetsu. Let's get you home"

"M'not drunk! Get your ass back here [Name] and dance with me!"

Kuroo pulls you against him and dances along to the sound of your co-worker's singing. You'd snort and laugh at him. He doesn't let you go even at the end of the song, he keeps dancing with you.

"Okay big guy, that's enough"

"You have nice eyes, [Name]"

He slurred and you raised a brow. You chuckled and shook your head, thinking it was just Kuroo being drunk.

"You have the prettiest smile too and the cutest laugh. I just wanna pinch your cheeks and kiss you right on the mouth"

This time you freeze and gaze at him wide-eyed. It may seem that Kuroo was beyond wasted with his drunken smiles and giggles. But you know what they say, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.

"...Really?"

"Uh-huh. You put on the ugliest outfits but still look sexy anyway. You drive me crazy, [Name]"

Your heart skips a beat as heat blooms on your cheeks. While your co-workers were still partying, you took the responsibility to bring Kuroo home since he was too intoxicated. Kuroo wakes up on your couch, shirtless with a horrible hungover.

"Here drink some water and take these"

You were suddenly there to hand him some water and pills. Kuroo takes them graciously. You called him over for breakfast as he tried to recollect everything from last night. When he fails to remember what happened after drinking god knows how much alcohol, you'd laugh at him.

"I did something stupid, didn't I?"

"I got a video of it, don't worry"

"Anything else? I didn't throw up on you or something?"

"Not really but you said some interesting things"

And when you told him about everything he told you last night, Kuroo was mortified. His blood was cold but his face was hotter than summer. He watched in pure embarrassment as you sent him a teasing smirk.

"I didn't know you thought of me that way, Tetsu"

"I-I didn't me-mean it, I swear!"

"Aw, that makes me sad"

"God, [Name]"

Kuroo ran a hand up his face to his hair and tugged the roots. He swallows and sighs.

"Fine, I did mean what I said to you last night"

Suddenly, you're speechless. He leans forward, finding the courage to elaborate his feelings to you.

"You always run through my mind, I love the smell of your hair, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, and I just..."

Kuroo pauses to catch his breath. You look like you were holding yours as you were waiting for him to finish. He offers you a sheepish smile.

"In summary, I'm in love with you"

It happened in a blink of an eye, you threw yourself unto him and crashed your lips against his. Kuroo can feel his heart go to a screeching halt. But as his eyes fluttered close and his hands found their place around your waist, he returned the kiss like it was the most natural thing in the world. The moment one of you pulled away, it seemed like the world had stopped.

"God, Tetsu. Here I thought I was an idiot for having a crush on you"

"Well, you still are"

You rolled your eyes and smacked him on the arm as he laughed. Kuroo kissed your cheek and smiled.

"But you're my idiot"

"Shut up and kiss me more"

— ♬ Bokuro Kotaro

Bokuto was naturally a free-spirited man who easily drew people into him and is easily drawn to people. It's mainly the reason why he has gained many friends and acquaintances. Bokuto was also easily intrigued by anything, especially if it was shrouded by mystery that aroused his curiosity. So, it was no surprise when he developed a fascination with you.

In summary, you were working as the MSBY Black Jackal's PR. You were reserved, professional, and oozing with confidence. You quickly gained the respect of both the athletes and your co-workers. Your first encounter with Bokuto wasn't anything spectacular, in fact, the spiker wished he had forgotten about it because it was embarrassing.

He has done something stupid that caused chaos on the internet and local sports outlets. It affected his image and reputation as a promising professional volleyball player, including his team. And as PR, you were tasked to handle it. It was decided that he should make an official statement to clear his and the team's name, so you created a list of do's and don'ts for the athlete's guidelines in formulating his statement and giving him the freedom to construct it.

You discussed with him the guidelines and Bokuto, eager to impress you, nods his head like an excited toddler. He knows he should've listened because all of the guidelines you told him were important yet it flew over his head. Bokuto was distracted by you the entire time you were explaining everything. He watched you like a fascinated owl, taking in your features. From the scent of your hair to your minuscule habits. He imprints your face in his head instead of the guidelines.

Fueled by the rapid beating of his passionate heart, Bokuto goes to make his statement. And it was a nightmare for you working as PR, the only thing that salvaged everything was how charmingly hilarious Bokuto was. It was a headache watching him say inappropriate and unnecessary sentences while live on television. You even considered resigning. However, after the ordeal, Bokuto comes up to you like an energized kid with shining eyes.

"How was it?"

Now, you were blunt. You made no room for sugarcoating your opinions. Yet the way Bokuto waited for your response made you bite your tongue. You sighed and merely gave him a thumbs up. He cheers.

Thinking back at it, Bokuto realizes how dumb he was. But hey, at least he still has his career and survived being canceled on the internet. Everyone was aware of how Bokuto was trying to befriend you, they didn't think much of it because the spiker always wanted to become everyone's friend. Somehow, he couldn't get close to you, or rather, you refused to let him near. It was odd considering that even Bokuto managed to be friends with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

"[Name] probably thinks you're annoying"

Sakusa said one time and it made his hair deflate. He didn't mean to come off as annoying so he tried a much tone-down approach. Bokuto would briefly form conversations with you during breaks, it was mostly about ordinary things like the weather or what you had for lunch. He thinks you're slowly warming up to him by being the first to initiate the conversations. Bokuto's heart flutters at you sharing your interests with him.

He knows things are taking a drastic turn when he finds himself sleepless at night. It was important for an athlete like him to have a good amount of sleep yet he failed to shut his eyes and fall into slumber. Bokuto's head was filled with impossible scenarios, romantic scenarios involving you and him. Bokuto would reach to brush your hair behind your ear, you'll wipe the rice off his cheek, you'll hold his hand, and he'll spin you around. Bokuto's eyes shoot open at the sound of his alarm, he checks the time and realizes he's thirty minutes late.

"Shit! I'm gonna be late for the practice match!"

He thankfully arrives just in time to stretch and play the match. While everyone was making fun of him for forgetting to put his hair up in his usual hairdo, you were giving him concerned glances. This was the fifth time he was late, and his performance on the court was less energetic, and he seemed sluggish too after practice.

"Bokuto"

You called out during the water break. Bokuto flinches but faces you with a bright smile.

"Hey hey hey [Name]! What's up?"

"...Are you okay?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem...tired. Have you gotten enough sleep?"

You watched as he let out a nervous chuckle and it was enough to answer your question. You sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You should prioritize your sleeping schedule because it's affecting your plays. I know I am not your manager in the team but it could seriously affect your image during official matches"

"Right, yeah. Sorry, I'll work on it! I don't wanna put any burden on you as our PR"

"Bokuto..."

This time you look him right in the eye and Bokuto's heart skips several beats.

"I don't care about you putting a burden on me, I have handled much worse than you"

You tilt your head towards Atsumu and Sakusa, Bokuto has to hold back a laugh at that. You suppress a smile.

"I care about your well-being and health because you're my..."

You paused, casting your gaze away. If Bokuto's hair was styled up it would start to deflate right now.

"Because you're my friend"

You finished with a hint of pink on your cheeks. Bokuto holds back the urge to clutch his chest at the rare display of cuteness from your usual stoic face. What you said both gave Bokuto a sense of hope and despair. It meant that there was a possibility you could view him as more than a friend or a friend only.

He's been overthinking about it since then, resulting in losing more sleep. Bokuto didn't want to disappoint you but damn it these feelings are getting really complicated! He figured he had to let it off his chest someday or he was just going to continue suffering by carrying these unspoken feelings.

Bokuto tries to ask you if you want to go out and see a movie. The first time, you decline. But he doesn't lose hope. He asks again if you want to go party with him at a club with the team, and you are quick to say no. Well, third time's a charm.

"[Name], would you like to grab dinner with me tomorrow?"

"No, I'm sorry but I have something planned for tomorrow evening already"

Ouch

Bokuto brings a fist to his chest and falls down to his knees in a dramatic display, having to be rejected for the third time. You might as well have stabbed him right in the chest. All of a sudden, you extended him a small envelope. He gives you a puzzled look. He takes it and it was an invitation to your friend's birthday party, his eyes went wide at the bold and italic instruction that one must bring a date.

"Huh?"

"See, I can't grab dinner with you tomorrow, I need a date for my friend's birthday party. I'm wondering if you're willing to be my date"

"Yes!"

The spiker grins at you and raises his fists up in victory in a ridiculous manner. You chuckled and shook your head. Bokuto literally pleaded with his friends (a.k.a. the entire team) to help him get ready for your date with him tomorrow. Bless them because they had his back from his outfit to styling his hair.

Bokuto arrived at your place to pick you up and my god did he almost fainted at how gorgeous you looked that evening. When you linked your arm with his on the way to the venue, he felt like tearing up. But he keeps it together. Everyone at the party complimented his looks, the way his hair was swept back to show his handsome face, and his tasteful choice of clothing. He thinks the night was going well. After your friend blows their candles, the party resumes.

There was lively music, and people scattered around either dancing or talking. But you and Bokuto were stuck in your own world, sipping champagne and exchanging hushed jokes. When a soft melody begins, Bokuto holds his breath and says a silent prayer.

"Would you like to dance with me, [Name]?"

He asks while extending his hand out. You take it with a nod and he feels like his body is floating. Everyone was waltzing with their partner and when Bokuto placed his hands around your waist he froze. Panic is visible on his face.

"What's wrong, Bokuto?"

"I don't know how to waltz"

"Oh, then let me teach you"

Bokuto's heart melted. There was trial and error. Bokuto keeps stepping on your foot while making an absolute fool of himself and earning a few amused giggles from other people. You only smiled patiently at him as he found the perfect rhythm.

"Holy shit, I did it!"

"Congrats, you're a quick learner"

The spiker smiled proudly at himself and you couldn't help but laugh. As the gentle music continued while you two waltzed on the dancefloor, Bokuto gulped. This was his chance! His chance to tell you how he feels. However, you opened your mouth first.

"Bokuto, do you have feelings for me?"

Crunch!!!

You winced as your face displayed pain when Bokuto stepped on your foot, rather painfully. You both pulled away. He becomes frantic as he apologizes profusely, ruining the moment between you two. Great, he fucked it up. He couldn't meet you in the eye.

"Bokuto"

He looks down at his feet, his face featuring an embarrassed flush. You sighed.

"Bokuto, look at me"

He continues to behave like an embarrassed child. You grabbed his broad shoulders and forced him to look at you.

"Kotaro"

Your eyes met his and his chest tightened at the way you finally said his first name. You were giving him a soft look, silently assuring him that everything was fine. Bokuto draws in a sharp inhale.

"I'm in love with you, [Name]"

A lot of people turned their heads at the loud proclamation. Your eyes went wide and your face heats up at the sincerity of his tone.

"I've been in love with you since the day I met you. You're just so interesting and I've been thinking about you so much that I couldn't sleep properly"

Bokuto confessed. A few people gasped, it seemed like the music was fading away too. The blush on your face intensified as you watched him rigidly.

"I want to touch you, hold you, and kiss you. I want to be the one that makes you smile and laugh. I want to spend the rest of my days with you if you'll allow me"

There was a collective sound of 'aww's from the moved audience watching the spectacle. You open your mouth to say something but Bokuto keeps going.

"I want to buy a house with you, pay taxes with you, and grow old with you. I...I want to marry you!"

In a flash, Bokuto gets on one knee making everyone gasp as if he's going to pull out a tiny box with a shiny ring. You frantically wave your hands around.

"Wait, stop! This is going too fast! I'm pretty sure you don't have a ring right now, Kotaro"

"Oh, shit, you're right"

Bokuto stands back up on his feet. You quietly went over to him and grabbed his large hands. The weight of the people's anticipating eyes goes unbothered to you.

"I suppose you have beat me, I meant to confess to you first. I'm in love with you too, Kotaro"

And the crowd goes wild. Bokuto lets out a scream and picks you up in his arms spinning you around like he'd imagine. The cheering goes deaf in his ears as he focuses on the sound of your laughter. It fills him with absolute happiness as nothing could compare to the joy of knowing you're in love with him too.

Although it seemed like a win for him, it ended up being a workload for you as PR because someone filmed the entire scene and posted it on social media as it went trending. Now everyone was dying to know who was the person that Bokuto Kotaro ended up offering his heart to.

— ♬ Oikawa Tooru

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa had no luck when it came to romance. Sure, he had gorgeous looks, a hot bod, a charming personality, and a heart of gold. But he had no one to willingly lend his heart to. He had relationships in the past, all resulting in failure. But then he didn't mind, he didn't mind if he had no one to hold or share his secrets with. The Oikawa then wouldn't have cared if he didn't have someone to kiss. However now, he's growing conscious.

Oikawa was no stranger to being a heartthrob. He was used to being surrounded by people thirsting for his attention. Sometimes he reveled in it. But he thought how nice it was to have someone in the crowd to lock eyes with and smile because they saw him as who he really was. Perhaps, he's been consuming too much romantic media lately.

The setter is a hopeless romantic who believes in true love even though he hasn't technically encountered it yet. But he wishes to. Oikawa was growing tired of the media portraying him as a cool and super-talented athlete. He's just a stupid guy who's a volleyball nerd and obsessed with astrology. He's not out at night hooking up with someone, he watches Ghibli movies and listens to popular love songs. Oikawa was just an ordinary guy who wanted to be loved for who he truly was.

When he arrived back in Japan to have a vacation and reunited with his best friend, Oikawa wasn't expecting anything to happen. He thinks this is just another long vacation and after that, he'll return to Argentina and be back to the pathetically single moron that he is. And then he met you. Iwaizumi's roommate. Previously when he returned to Japan, Iwaizumi lived alone in his apartment, so he was surprised to see you answer the door instead of his childhood best friend.

"Woah, you're not Hajime"

You said and gave him a glance from head to toe. Oikawa stood stiffly with an awkward smile, hugging all his luggage. You raised a brow.

"You friends with Hajime?"

"Yes, I'm his childhood best friend"

Judging from the way you called his best friend by his first name, he thought you two were close. You furrowed your eyebrows and suddenly snapped your fingers.

"Oh, you! Heard a lot about you from my roommate, you're Oikawa right?"

"Yep"

"Cool, come in! Hajime was out doing some errands"

You smiled and opened the door wider to let him in. The apartment was livelier compared to the last time he visited. There were plants and aesthetic decorations that filled the spaces. Oikawa settled his things down by the living room and took a seat. You were only wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt as you walked to the kitchen.

"You hungry, bud?"

"Oh, no thank you"

"Good, I don't know what to feed you. Hajime does the cooking around here"

You laughed and the setter found himself chuckling. Your demeanor was welcoming and interesting. Oikawa watched you walk around the place tidying up, seemingly to make everything more presentable. Oikawa decides he wants to get to know you more.

"The last time I visited, Iwa-chan didn't have a roommate"

"Really? Well, I kind of begged him to let me stay here since my last place was shitty"

"So, how long have you known him?"

"Long enough to know he's obsessed with Godzilla"

You and Oikawa shared a laugh. You settled in the living room, plopping on the beanbag across from the setter, and chatted. Somewhat having a playful interview and getting to know each other. The way you matched Oikawa's personality impressed him greatly. Why the hell has Iwaizumi not introduced you to him yet?

You were a breath of fresh air. You talked to him without regard for his popularity, hell, he thinks you don't have a clue he's a famous athlete. Maybe you didn't give a shit, either way, he was glad. Both of you found a lot of common interests like volleyball and astrology. Oikawa for the first time felt like someone had finally glanced at his true self.

By the time Iwaizumi arrived at the apartment, you and Oikawa were blasting Taylor Swift in the speakers and talking about zodiac signs while sprawled out on the floor. There was a mixture of shock and disgust on Iwaizumi's face.

"Hi, Hajime!"

"Hi, Iwa-chan!"

You both greet him enthusiastically. Iwaizumi closed the door and crossed his arms, giving you two an odd look. He pointed at his best friend.

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough for me to know all of your embarrassing high school moments"

You replied with a mischievous giggle. Oikawa copied you. Iwaizumi mumbled to himself as he entered the kitchen while rubbing his temples. Oikawa was going to stay for a week, occupying the couch to sleep on. But the two of you grew close so quickly and suddenly, that you two would lay your mattress in the living room and have some sort of slumber party every night.

Oikawa expected to catch up with Iwaizumi but instead ended up bonding with his roommate instead. How could he not when you literally matched his energy so well? It was like you were the missing piece of his soul that made him whole. Like the Yin to his Yang, the sun to his moon, or the water to his fire. It seemed like the planets aligned when he met you.

His stay in Japan was unexpectedly filled with new memories with you. The two of you were always out and about either partying or exploring. Iwaizumi witnessed how his best friend slowly carved a special place for you in his life. The man witnessed everything. When you two would get home at five in the morning wasted, later Oikawa would assist you when you're throwing up in the toilet. When you two would get into stupid arguments, mostly Oikawa would get upset and you would be the first to apologize as you two made up. When you and he would blast loud music in the speakers and have a mini concert, Iwaizumi got a complaint from the neighbors.

And most importantly, Iwaizumi witnessed how his best friend was falling in love with you. From the tender stares to the caring gestures, it was no mistaking that Oikawa had feelings for you. Iwaizumi knew the setter well, how he was a romantic but could be devasted and hurt because of it. How he desperately worked himself to the bone to become better. And how he longed to have someone who saw him past the charms.

Oikawa pouted when Iwaizumi forced him to hang out with him and Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The four of them went out for drinks and did some catching up. However, Oikawa was occupied texting on his phone, most likely chatting with you.

"Hey! Iwa-chan give that back!"

The setter whined when Iwaizumi snatched his phone and pocketed it. Matsukawa and Hanamaki laughed at him.

"Are you seriously talking to [Name] right now?"

"Huh? How did you know?"

"Iwaizumi filled us up with your unfolding romance with them"

Hanamaki replied. Oikawa glared at him and blushed, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa shared amused laughs.

"Just admit it Shittykawa, you're in love with [Name]"

"I am not!"

The way the setter immediately denied provided a great amount of proof. Oikawa loved to deny the truth, especially how painful it was. He denied how he wasn't naturally born with talent, he denied the fact he hasn't gone once to Nationals, and he denied how he was harboring strong feelings for you.

Because the truth was he was petrified. Now, that he found someone who can make his heart beat so fast, he doesn't want to fuck it up. Oikawa doesn't want to fuck up the friendship he had with you. Oikawa was sure you only saw him as a friend and only held platonic feelings for him. He thinks confessing to you would just fuck up everything, so it was better to stay as friends than ruin what he had with you.

"Just confess, you idiot"

"I can't, Mattsun!"

"Why? Are you scared?"

"...Yes"

Oikawa exhales. His friends shared a look. He was about to leave Japan tomorrow. He won't be seeing you again for god knows how long. His heart aches at the thought of being so far away from what he deemed as his soulmate. He felt so stupid for falling so easily. Curse his stupid heart and stupid feelings.

"Oi, you're not stupid for falling in love, okay?"

Iwaizumi reassured him. Oikawa gives him a grateful smile and gulps down his beer.

"I know. It's just never met someone who made me feel so complete and I would hate to ruin everything because I admitted what I feel"

"That's love, dude. You get happy and hurt at the same time"

Hanamaki said. Matsukawa gives him a pat on the back as he tries not to get teary-eyed.

"I shouldn't have returned here"

"Hey, cut that out. How else you would've met [Name]?"

"Yeah. Just tell [Name] how you feel and if all goes to shit, you'll still have us"

"No homo tho"

Everyone shared a lighthearted laugh. Oikawa has really been counting his blessings but meeting you was the greatest blessing of all. As he finishes another glass of beer, Oikawa takes a confident stand.

"Okay! I'll tell them how I feel!"

All of his friends cheered and patted him on the back. Oikawa thinks it will be fine, even if he'll inevitably end up sobbing like an ugly baby on his flight tomorrow back to Argentina. As he returns back at the apartment, he sees you scrolling on your phone. When you see him enter, a warm smile spreads on your lips and it makes his knees weak.

"Hey, Tooru"

"[Name], can I tell you something?"

"Sure! I got something to tell you too"

"Oh, you go first!"

Oikawa insisted. He was nervous as fuck, he needed spare time to prepare how to spill his feelings for you. But you shook your head and laughed.

"Nah, you can go first"

Shit

"No, I insist"

"Come on, Tooru. I don't mind"

"No, you go first"

"No"

"Yes"

"No!"

"Ugh! Fine!"

You raise a brow as he runs his hands down his face with a frustrated groan. Oikawa looks you in the eye, his eyes growing wet the longer he stares.

"I've been thinking this through and...fuck! I can't do it!"

The setter turns away and collapses on the couch. You give him a concerned look and join him on the couch.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow, [Name]"

"I know, it's making me sad as fuck, Tooru"

"I...I don't want to leave"

"But you can't"

"I don't want to leave you"

Oikawa sniffs. You frowned and grabbed his hands, he looked at you. Your gaze meant something deeper, like you were gazing directly at his soul, witnessing his flaws but seeing past them by holding his hands. Oikawa was convinced you have always seen the real him no matter how much he pretended. And he stares back at you like you're the best thing that has ever happened to him in his life. Oikawa inhales.

One, two, three...

"I-"

"I'm in love with you, Tooru"

You blurted out. Oikawa's eyes bulge out of its sockets. His mouth goes agape as his face displays sheer bewilderment. You nervously smiled.

"Sorry, I can't stand seeing you leave without telling you how I feel"

"[Name], what the fuck?"

"I understand if you don't feel the same-"

"I'm fucking in love with you too, [Name]"

Oikawa finally confesses. You gasp in response before letting out a breathless laugh. He doesn't miss the way your eyes became glassy.

"Oh my god, tell me you're kidding!"

"No! Never! [Name], I'm in love with you. I was about to tell you but I got nervous"

"We're fucking idiots"

You said as you both burst out laughing. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes both from relief and joy. As the laughter subsided, you both gazed softly at each other. This time Oikawa grabs your hands.

"[Name], you have completed me. You see me as who I am and I just want to be on your side all the time"

He goes to kiss your knuckles turning your face red. Oikawa sighs as he traces your knuckles with his thumbs.

"But I have to leave you behind, here in Japan. I wouldn't mind if you want to start a long-distance relationship"

"Oh, about that"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when I said I was going to say something to you?"

"Oh, wasn't that the confession?"

"Nope!"

You grinned and went over to your bag and pulled out your passport and a flight ticket. You showed it to Oikawa.

"I'm coming with ya to Argentina!"

"Oh my god!"

Oikawa couldn't control himself as he picked you up in his arms and spun you around the living room. You laughed as he excitedly babbled how he was excited to return back to Argentina with you. Oikawa felt like the luckiest man alive, striking the ultimate jackpot to romance. Because he gets to be with you, who made his heart whole.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[thecordelialetters]

The Bionic and the Ballerina Pt.3

wc:1,132

Chase Davenport x fem!reader

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Thankfully the week had passed and with the help of Chase, you were able to ace your history test.

Your friendship with Bree was going smoothly. When you had time the two of you would gossip about others, talk about boys, or the latest episode of Vampire Diaries. Your Saturday morning was bleak, your older brother who had become your guardian, was covering a coworker's shift, leaving you alone in the tiny apartment you shared. A heavy sigh left your lips as you sipped on a cup of jasmine tea. Buzz buzz...

Your phone screen lit up with a picture of Chase. His contact image was a photo of the two of you during lunch when you had accidentally matched colors. His smile matched yours as both of you faced the camera. Seeing his arm around you in the photo brought a familiar heat to your core. The message read, "Tasha and Davenport are heading out, want to come over?" Excitedly you changed out of your pajamas leaving the house in a pink skirt and white blouse. With no time to do your hair, you clipped it up leaving a few strands in your face.

Chase jolted at the sound of the doorbell and hurried to open it. The moment his eyes fell on you, a breath caught in his throat. You looked... different—your hair swept up, framing your face in a way that softened your features, lending you an air of delicate elegance.

As you stepped past him and into the room, his gaze dropped to your blouse. Resting just above your chest, a gold, heart-shaped locket gleamed, rising and falling with the subtle rhythm of your breath. The gentle rise and fall seemed to command his attention, while the sweet fragrance of your perfume wrapped around him, dizzying in its allure.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping him in a hushed, almost reverent tone, as though the sight of you demanded nothing less.

You took a seat on the couch as Davenport and Tasha came in carrying their luggage. "This is so exciting! I've never been to Australia before!" You stood back up to greet them, "You're going to love it! The hiking and beaches are to die for." Another voice from the door spoke up, "Maybe you'll like it so much you won't come back!"

Tasha rolled her eyes at the AI before continuing, "Honey do you have the plane tickets?" "Plane tickets? We are taking my fully automated private jet." He grinned. You poked Chase's side, "Oh lala fancy."

"Leo this is your chance to prove you're responsible enough to stay home without us." Leo looked baffled and pointed to the siblings, "me what about them?"

Davenport looked at you cautiously, "They're responsible enough...you on the other hand were designed to break things." He eyed Leo down. Leo pushed the couple out the door, "Don't worry it'll be fine enjoy your trip!"

The minute they left Adam and Bree shouted "Woo party!" and left to do their own plans, leaving you and Chase...and Leo. Chase side-eyed Leo as if saying, "How about you beat it so I can hang out with the girl I like." It appeared Leo wasn't as receptive and stayed in place. The three of you sat on the couch in painful silence before Leo decided to get up and play with his toys/action figures, leaving you, Chase, and a large gap between the two. You turned to Chase, "I know you and your family are coming to see my show next week, but would you like to see what I've been practicing so far?" He nodded eagerly. You stood up and played the music for your solo on your phone. Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out. In. Out.

Ballet was more than movement; it was your escape, your body bending and stretching in ways that felt both impossible and freeing, guided not by thought but by the rhythm that pulsed through the music. The Rose Adagio—your long-awaited solo—was your moment to demonstrate the intimate conversation between body and melody.

Chase’s gaze never wavered. Every spin, every leap you made seemed to pull him deeper into your world, as if he, too, was part of the dance. His eyes followed you with an intensity that felt like a silent partner, mirroring your every step. Each graceful leap was weightless, landing so softly it was as if the air itself caught you. As the music swelled, you moved with a passionate fluidity, your skirt sweeping through the air like petals caught in a gentle breeze. The symphony crescendoed, and even from across the room, you could feel him sway with the rising tide of emotion in your dance as if the music had tethered him to you.

You stopped breathing slightly harder, "Well um...what did you think?" nervously shuffling your hands together. Chase snapped out of his reverie and took one step before playing his arms around your lefts and lifting you up, spinning you around. "That was the most amazing dance I've ever seen, the way you move was like a swan descending into the water, it was like... it was like the feeling of the first autumn breeze." He rambled on with many beautiful comparisons but you were too busy staring into his eyes. Overcome with happiness, you grabbed his face and softly planted your lips on his.

Chase paused before leaning in, one hand on your waist the other holding your jaw. This was no kiss of lust but one of appreciation for each other. His heart thumped against his chest, deeper and deeper.

The smell of his natural cologne invaded your senses, his lips pressed against yours, your noses brushing up occasionally. Your hand grabbed his hard muscle the other lightly resting on his stomach. You sunk in his embrace, letting his lips brush against yours before interlocking again. Your hand moved up and down his waist feeling the heat of his skin. Your thumb mindlessly toying with his waistband. The two of you broke apart immediately letting the forgotten air fill your lungs. The phantom feeling of the kiss lingered as you took sight of his flushed face.

"I love you." He blurted out.

Your eyes widened. He stammered, "I mean no I don't, I mean I like you but we also just met, and I love you?" You stepped back, "I'm sorry Chase look I really like you but..." You stopped not knowing what to say back. It wasn't that you DIDN'T love him, but rather you didn't know what love was. This wasn't your first rodeo with a boy, but your previous relationship was nothing like this one. The first boy you ever "went out" with was immature and only liked you for your body. Rather than waiting for you to finish, Chase turned around and ran. You stood there not knowing what to do. It would be weird to run after him in his own house. You packed up your stuff and left, you'd try to talk to him tomorrow.

Taglist: @mel-vaz

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 3

A/N: Thank you all for your patience. She's finally here.

Word count: 3.5k Rating: M (nothing sexual; mostly topics that may be uncomfortable) Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+; Mentions of murder, violence, death, blood, gore (very minor), blood drinking, sexual acts. Angst, alcohol consumption.

Summary: Tav and Shadowheart finally reunite for a simple lunch date. Their discussion turns toward Astarion, and a particularly unsettling event.

Chapter track: Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

Dawn breaks over the horizon. The subtle stirrings of a city coming to life once more fill the streets. Maids and matrons pat down their mats just beyond their front doors. Street vendors begin setting up their carts. A young boy with a satchel carrying copies of the Gazette goes from home to home delivering the day’s latest print.

Tav kneels before her front window, watching the street below. A few days have passed since her meeting with Jaheira. Astarion hasn't been to see her; the longest stretch of time between visits since they began their ordeal. She fully expected a visit last night. However, he never came. She hates admitting it to herself, but she feels a shallow pit in her stomach beginning to form having gone without him for so long.

Standing up, Tav closes the window and brings herself into the washroom to prepare for the day ahead. An old friend has requested a lunch date; she hasn’t seen Shadowheart for many months, and owes her dearest friend an audience.

Tav pours the carafe of water into the wash basin, dipping a cloth into the water before bringing it to her face. Studying the various soaps and creams she has lined along the shelf, she chooses one of nettlebark, smelling of citrus and pine forests. This scent is one of her favorites, and she’s relieved she can still find comfort within the smell. Scents are still a trigger for her nausea at this stage in her pregnancy. The usually tempting smell of breakfast wafting about the air of the city turns her stomach upright, now. Tav has found that if she holds off eating until mid-morning, she's in the clear. 

Yet… odd cravings have begun. 

For instance, she's since gone back to the butcher's, profusely apologetic to poor Gideon. Of course, the kind soul that he is, he was nothing but understanding and even offered her a few rations free of charge. Tav politely declined his offer, yet as she stared into the display cases full of various raw meats, she found herself practically bewitched by the sight. Rich, bloody beef; cut straight from the animal. She recalls how intensely saliva pooled within her mouth staring at the provisions. Tasting the metallic twang of the blood on her tongue, swallowing thickly as Gideon returned with her order.

Patting her face dry with a small towel, Tav returns into the main room and begins rummaging through her dresser for the day's outfit. The midnight blue bottle Jaheira gave her sits atop the dresser. Tav considers the potion every morning, but quickly declines as her heart aches at the thought. 

She believes the weather to be rather warm today, so she settles on an airy, light blue sundress and a wide brimmed hat. The gray scarf she recently bought matches perfectly as she stands before her mirror, assembling the ensemble. 

The ghost of scars catches her eyes as she adjusts the scarf around her neck. They're light enough; most wouldn't notice, though to her, they blare. Permanent gifts from her months-long affair with Astarion during their journey to defeat the Absolute. His bite was always a clean one, never marring her tanned skin. Two faint fang marks are all that remain, Tav taking the index and middle fingers of one hand to press lightly over the imprinted flesh as she lifts her chin.

Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

The rhythmic beating of her heart can be felt beneath her fingertips as she pushes slightly into the artery. Accurate, Tav notes, a shiver running down her spine. She makes quick adjustments to the scarf and grabs her hat off the edge of her bed, placing it atop her head. 

Returning to the mirror, Tav smiles approvingly at her reflection as she gives herself a final glance over. The dress is loose enough that it hides the new softness of her body, something she's thankful for. Curiously, she places her hands over her stomach, pushing the fabric of the dress down and under the small swell of her lower abdomen. A pleased laugh escapes her lips while admiring the sight.

Tav turns her body from side to side, tracing the movement with her eyes. Her breasts now fill the top of the garment. The deep plunge of the dress’s neckline displays her new cleavage in a flattering manner. Feeling suddenly bare, Tav unwraps the scarf from around her neck, repositioning it lays across her chest like a bandana. Better. A bit more modest.

The satisfaction doesn’t last very long as she thinks of Shadowheart. How can she tell her? Will she tell her? While Shadowheart has never been anything but supportive, Tav worries how she may respond to news of her pregnancy. Tav is not ready for the backlash and potential lecture her best friend would give her, hearing Shadowheart's scolding voice echo within her mind. 

You cried over him for months! Tav envisions clearly, sour facial expressions and all. How many times did you come to me distraught in the middle of the night? Only to end up like this?

If the conversation doesn’t occur naturally, Tav decides on not discussing it. Not yet.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Tav grabs her satchel from behind her main door, throwing it over her shoulder and across her chest. She inspects the contents quickly to ensure everything is present. Slipping her feet into brown sandals, she makes her way down the stairs to face the day ahead.

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

The morning is spent strolling around the park not far from her apartment. Tav recalls an altercation with Bhaal’s followers in this very park so many months ago. Today though, people are enjoying the sun and the company of one another. Lovers lay out on the grass, hands interlaced as they speak freely of their devotion to one another. A book club gathers in the middle of the park to discuss their latest obsession. Tav overhears bits and pieces of mixed conversations, finding comfort in the fact that life is slowly returning to normal for the citizens of Baldur's Gate.

The midmorning quickly slips into afternoon, and Tav begins her trek over toward the Elfsong to meet with Shadowheart. A few people nod in recognition as she passes by. “That's our hero!” they shout. “The savior of the city!” Tav smiles and bows graciously toward them, never quite comfortable with everyone suddenly knowing of her existence. Still, she is thankful for their praise and support.

Upon entering the Elfsong, Tav scans the tavern and quickly finds Shadowheart seated at a booth along the wall. Their eyes meet, Shadowheart waving her over with a warm smile on her face. “There you are!” she exclaims as Tav draws closer. “My goodness, I feel as if it's been ages!” The two women exchange a quick embrace, planting chaste kisses upon eachother's cheek.

“Good to see you again, Shadowheart,” Tav says as she settles into the booth. She removes her hat and scarf, placing both items on the cushion to her left.

Shadowheart soon joins her, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “Shall I ask for another glass?” she proposes, nodding to hers. “We could just order a bottle,” she quickly adds with a smirk.

“Oh, no, I'm quite fine,” Tav declines, a sharp twist in her abdomen forms at the thought. “Truth be told, I haven't had the best stomach, as of late.” Bile begins to rise in the back of her throat as a quick wave of nausea passes over her. She quickly swallows it back down.

Taking another sip from her glass, Shadowheart cocks her head to the side. “Truly? Why haven't you been to see me yet?”

“Not to worry,” waving a hand in reassurance. “I've been to a healer. All is well,” Tav replies with a liar’s smile.

All is not well. None of this is well.

Fortunately, Shadowheart takes the bait and quickly switches subjects. Waiting for service, they begin a pleasant conversation about resettling back into their lives. They speak of their new jobs and all other mundane activities of day-to-day life, sharing a few laughs between remarks as they pursue the menus in front of them.

The waitress takes their orders – Shadowheart keeps it light, ordering salad with grilled chicken; Tav orders a rare steak with potatoes and a side of vegetables. “Rare?” Shadowheart comments as soon as the waitress is out of earshot. “You hate all meat, unless it’s well done.”

She's right. Any hint of pink in Tav’s portion would go right back into the fire. “I-I've been trying new things lately,” Tav explains, rubbing her neck coyly. The cravings only seem to grow as the days pass, and she briefly wonders if it's a consequence of having a half-vampiric pregnancy.

Shadowheart raises a brow again, but fortunately does not pry further. The women then delve into a discussion regarding their old companions as they wait for their meals. Tav talks of her efforts to bolster the city watch with Wyll, now the Duke after his father's unfortunate death. Shadowheart speaks of Gale, who she notes has since opened a school of wizardry back in Waterdeep. Neither has heard much regarding the others, though they agree that they're most likely doing well.

Shadowheart wastes little time once their meals arrive, forking salad into her mouth. “So, have you heard from Astarion at all?” she asks casually after swallowing.

A shudder passes over Tav as she begins slicing into her steak. “No,” she feigns with eyes cast downward, “I-I have not.”

Gesturing toward Tav with her fork as she chews, Shadowheart swallows. “I read something interesting in the Gazette a few days ago,” she suggests.

“About him?” Tav questions, bringing a potato wedge to her mouth.

Shadowheart shakes her head in disapproval around a sip of wine. “Not in particular,” she clarifies. “They don't name him explicitly, though it made me think of him.”

Silence befalls the table as Tav awaits her companion to continue. She doesn't trust her voice enough at this point to offer more to their conversation now that Astarion is the topic at hand. Playing idly with the vegetables on her plate, she chooses a small piece of broccoli to bring up to her mouth. The heavy pull of dread is beginning to creep in, her chest tightening.

“They… mentioned an incident that occurred in the sewers but a tenday ago,” explains Shadowheart, a sour expression befitting her face. “Some sort of deal gone wrong.”

Tav looks up to meet Shadowheart's gaze, puzzled. “How exactly does that involve him?” she inquires.

“Well, that's just the thing,” Shadowheart continues, “those first on the scene mentioned five victims in total, all young males.” She interrupts herself to feed another forkful of salad into her mouth, swallowing before resuming, “They were all reported as being exsanguinated, though only three had their throats slashed.”

Tav swallows hard around another piece of steak, silently savoring the rare flavor washing over her tongue as she focuses her attention on Shadowheart. “And the other two?”

Shadowheart looks sheepishly around the bar, discomfort evident. She dips her head. “Tav, I know of your history with Astarion. I don't wish to speak ill of him out of respect for you.”

Tav's fist tightens around the knife in her left hand. The tightness in her chest has traveled up to her throat. Her heart pounds rapidly as she drinks from the glass of water within her right hand. “What of the others?” Tav insists, placing the glass back down on the table with force.

Eyes falling closed, Shadowheart sighs heavily. “The other two…” she begins, voice trailing off. She pulls in a deep breath. “Well, they're reported as having two pin marks on their necks.” She gestures to Tav's throat with a soft nod of her head. “...Not unlike the scars you bear.”

A prickling heat spreads across Tav’s face. A tenday ago? she speaks within her mind. Rather close to when she'd last seen Astarion. Tav recalls again how miffed he'd been that night; impatient and direct, wasting little time coaxing her down onto the bed.

She pushes around a chunk of potato on her plate, anxiety mounting. “What makes you think it was Astarion? It could have been a kobold, or a spider, or-”

“They were gone the next day,” interrupts Shadowheart, bluntly.

Tav’s heart nearly freezes. She locks eyes with Shadowheart. “Gone? What do you mean gone?” she asks frantically, furrowing her brow.

“Gone,” Shadowheart reiterates, raising the wine glass to her lips again. “When the investigators returned the following day alongside the medical examiner, only the three with the knife wounds remained.” She pulls a long drink from the glass. “The other two were nowhere to be found. As if they'd simply gotten up and walked away.”

Tav shivers, entire body twitching with the thought. “T-that doesn't mean it's Astarion, Shadowheart. It could be-”

“Could be what? Another vampire?” suggests Shadowheart, sarcastically. “I don't think Astarion would take kindly to someone else moving into his territory.” She sighs, clicking her tongue. “I'm sorry to say it, Tav, but it sounds an awful lot like him.”

The sounds of the tavern flood Tav’s ears. Her vision narrows to a single pinpoint, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy. She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes. “We don't know that,” Tav states, trying desperately to calm the wild beating of her heart. “We don't know what happened.” She shakes her head, slowly opening her eyes. “We won't know until the case is settled.”

“Why do you still defend him?” asks Shadowheart bluntly, mouth pulling into a displeased pout. “Surely you remember how badly he hurt you. Why continue to defend him at all?”

The question echoes in her mind. Why does she defend him? The man is a monster; an abomination, as Jaheira had called his child. Tav knows not who he’s become. Small glimpses of the man he once was shine through now and again, mostly when they argue. The stubborn selfishness of him reveals itself, inevitably bleeding into raw passion once she works at him enough. It almost makes her feel at home in his arms, albeit for a few hours.

“He wouldn't, Shadowheart. It's not like him…” Tav says, quietly. She's unsure if she believes it or if she's lying in an effort to convince herself that it's true. She's suddenly lost her appetite, pushing the plate of food away from her.

Shadowheart is quiet for some time, eyes cast down at the table. “Well,” she says, cutting through the silence, “let's hope he's as innocent as you say.”

Silence stretches across the table before the two women agree to shift the conversation elsewhere. They inevitably tie up their gathering, sharing an embrace and chaste kisses to the cheeks once again. They vow to meet the following week, and head out on their way.

Walking back toward her apartment, Tav's stomach begins to sour as she thinks over her conversation with Shadowheart. Vivid images of Astarion sinking his fangs into the necks of the alleged victims flood her mind's eye. She feels a tingling sensation over her own scars as she imagined how they must have felt. Could he have really done such a thing? The sounds of the city are almost absent from her ears as she ponders the question.

“Wait a minute,” she speaks aloud, freezing in place. Her eyes are cast down to the cobblestone street below as her heart fills with horror. Her mouth dries quickly, choking as she tries to breathe.

The last night she'd seen Astarion coincides almost exactly with the timeline of the murders within the sewers. If the report is true, then Astarion's enthusiasm that night wasn't solely due to want, necessarily. Tav dips into a small alley between two buildings, leaning against the brick wall as her knees grow weak.

No, his insistence was not due to missing her. It was attributed to blood-fueled lust, a state Tav has seen him in a number of times. She clasps a hand over her mouth as a sob suddenly racks her chest. Her whole body shakes as the horrific realization sinks deep into her bones. The puzzle aligns near perfectly as the thought continues to blossom.

Astarion had come to her bed after draining two people dry. He didn't spend time on their typical foreplay because he couldn't. Tav knows the power mortal blood has over him, and she doubts the ascension has changed that. She recalls how it all but possesses his thoughts, his feelings, and his body, enslaved by the sheer power of unbridled desire running through him.

Lurching forward, she begins to dry heave; a million thoughts race across her mind. He couldn't have done this on purpose, could he? He wouldn't. There's simply no way he would. Denial clouds her thoughts as saliva drips freely from her open mouth, gathering it together to spit upon the floor. Holding a hand to her stomach she rises, leaning her temple against the cool brick of the wall next to her. She closes her eyes, trying to calm her excitement with slow, deep breaths.

“No innocents; you have my word.”

Astarion's past promise to her rings loudly in her ears. It was from this promise their almost nightly affair to keep him well-fed began. Tav tries desperately to block out the memories of what would transpire after their sessions; how could she have not noticed? All the signs were there.

Because he didn't drink from me.

Her stomach churns again and she rubs her hand in a circular motion above her navel. Her chest burns as she chokes back tears. What to do, now? Does she wait until his next visit to confront him? When will that be? The anticipation will burn a hole through her soul, she knows. But, what other option does she have? 

A small voice wrestles from within as she wipes her mouth with the back of a hand.

…Do I go to him?

The decision is made before the logical side of her mind can argue a rational point, her feet carrying her toward the Crimson Palace. She second guesses the choice; from some place within, a voice yells for her to reconsider. 

He'll tell me the truth, surely, she argues against her doubt. 

Right?

Aware that she's potentially putting herself in a grave position, Tav cannot rest until he tells her otherwise. She needs to hear from Astarion's own mouth that he didn't murder five people only to share her bed mere hours later. She needs to hear from him that he wouldn't do this, that he still abides by his promise to her, that her blood is all he's ever known.

“Why do I care so much?” Tav questions aloud to herself, practically running now toward the monastery. She shakes her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts; he will eventually drink the blood of others. If he is to create an army of spawn as he'd so claimed after the ritual, that would be the only way to do so.

They're no longer lovers; no longer deeply acquainted. They just sleep together, and she fell pregnant as a result. 

Why does she care so much?

Before long, Tav stands before the immaculate palace. Grand mahogany doors stand proudly at the building's entrance, adorned with intricate carvings along the wood. Black metal knockers depicting the faces of gargoyles signal a way in. Tav’s hand reaches instinctively around the bell of one, pulling up.

Before she can complete the knock, the door creaks open. A faint glow from a distant light source cracks through the opening of the door and Tav releases the handle, stepping back. She freezes in place, fully expecting the door to continue opening. Yet, it halts, remaining only slightly ajar. Stale air greets her nostrils and a shiver passes through her.

Silence suddenly engulfs her, the sounds of the city falling dormant. As she surveys the area around her, Tav notes no other presence out on the street for as far as the eye can see. Her ears pick up the soft sound of someone humming, and she determines its origin lies within the palace. 

An assimon carved into the middle of the marble trim along the heavy doors catches her attention as she looks up. Tav turns her head as she studies the figure; a young woman with long hair, eyes closed and wings outstretched as she holds a lance within one hand.

The humming from within the building turns into a tune and cuts through Tav’s daydream. She shakes her head briefly, regrouping. She can turn away now and forget this entire thing. Forget that this was even a thought that crossed her mind, leave, and no one would ever know she was here.

A quick flash of Astarion’s fangs piercing into skin flits across Tav’s vision. She winces. I simply must know, she reassures herself. Drawing in a deep breath, she steps forward.

Resting the flat of her palm against the door, Tav slowly pushes it open. The old metal and wood fuss loudly as the door gives way under the force of her hand. The faint glow of the light from within now pours out, illuminating the street behind her. With some hesitation, Tav steps over the threshold, disappearing into the palace.

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part five

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): cussing, depictions of violence, TENSION, angst, tw: topper

author's note: hi baby loves, i've been working on some stuff for you guys in the midst of uploading this chapter. i appreciate and love all of your kind words that you have given me during this series thus far ♡ had to cut this one a lil shorter than others as you will see why at the end, but y'all are going to be FED in the next chapter. here's to chapter 5!!

You felt a massive lump in your throat, swearing to yourself that it might've killed you from suffocation if it hadn't gone away. You stood a few feet away from JJ and Pope with your back facing the direction of where the adenoidal voice was coming from behind you. You quite literally felt like a deer in the headlights while you stood there, frozen by the fear that came over you as you looked to your friends with pure panic in your eyes. You knew immediately that trouble had approached you by the irate look in JJ's sapphire colored eyes and the horror in Pope's. You felt a miniscule sense of relief when you realized that the voice adressing the three of you was not that of Rafe Cameron's. You could recognize Rafe's gruff, low-toned voice from a mile away and the one you had heard was not nearly as deep as his.

Topper.

"Y/n, what are you doing with these duds?" Topper taunted with evident intentions to rile up your friends, more specifically, JJ.

"Top," you turned around swiftly, a painfully forced smile plastered onto your face, "I ran into them while I was in line. I just stopped to say hi before I came back over." You prevaricated the loathsome Kook, putting on a euphonious tone to try and impel him by toying with his weak spot for you.

However to your dismay, Topper shook his head at you as he inched closer, "I get that, but you see, we don't really fuck with them, y/n. Especially not Rafe." The blond forewarned of the conflict that was brewing, causing your mouth to go dry and your breath to stagger. It wasn't often you were left speechless, seeing how you always seemed to have an opinion about something, but for once you were utterly tongue-tied under Topper's stare.

"I know, but they're my friends and Rafe knows tha-"

"Whats going on- Y/n? What are you doing?" A thick voice rang throughout your ears, followed by the vision of Rafe coming into your view, a sight that made your heart skip a beat.

"I ran into JJ and Pope while I was in line. I just wanted to say hi." You admitted and your articulation subdued. Heat had began rising to your flushed cheeks, only to be made worse by the scorching heat of the mid-july temperatures and Rafe's daunting glare.

You wanted to crumble into a million pieces at the sound of Rafe's hauntingly dry chuckle emerging from the depths of his throat, almost ominous. You kept your eyes glued up at him as he approached you as the beating of your heart inside your chest sped up faster than ever. It wasn't necessarily for the fact that you were scared of Rafe, but that he was unpredictable and arbitrary at times. The only ones who truly needed to be afraid in that moment was JJ and Pope, which had you on edge.

"Hey Top," Rafe motioned towards his blond acquaintance with a subtle head nod before wrapping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side swiftly, "y/n and I are going to head back over to our seats. You think you got it from here?" His question alerting your attention immediately, causing you to furrow your brows at the lanky boy next to you.

"Yeah I think so, actually Kelce and Ryan are on their way." Topper flashed a small smirk in Rafe's direction, illiciting a nearly sadistic grin to form onto his face. After getting the confirmation from his friend, Rafe began to guide the two of you back over to the spot you were sat at previously, passing by the two Kooks Topper had just mentioned while on the walk back.

"Rafe, what are they doing?" You inquired wearily, shaming yourself for the way your voice cracked when trying to speak.

"They're just talking things out, y/n. Nothing to worry about." Rafe's words sounded sincere but you could tell by that familiar smug smirk on his face that he was being anything but that. You knew his attempt to soothe your nerves was merely half-hearted, not because he didn't care about you, but rather due to the fact that the talk about your fellow Pogue coevals left a sour taste in his mouth.

You kept walking in compliance with Rafe's request to remove you from the situation that was fermenting at the concession stand, but your mind was still racing at the thought of what was happening back there. You knew that if it involved Topper, or any of the Kooks for that matter, JJ and Pope would be in for it. You pondered on the reoccuring thought that those fiendish Kooks might actually end up hurting your friends, and you shivered at the thought of any of them laying a hand on the two boys.

You fought with the notion that they were up to no good for a few moments, however, you feared Rafe would catch onto where your head was at and grow frustrated with you. But nevertheless, you couldn't fight the thoughts that plagued every part of your encephalon. Therefore, just before you lost complete sight of the group of boys a few feet behind, you turned your head over your shoulder to sneak a peek at what was truly unfolding.

Once you had finally got a glimpse of what was going on, you couldn't help but scream.

"JJ! Pope!" You hollered with an unalloyed terror that captured Rafe's attention immediately.

"Shh, hey, hey, y/n?" Rafe placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, blocking your view of the altercation taking place by standing directly in front of you.

"Rafe- I, they're hurting my friends!" You pointed at the sight of both Pope and JJ lying on the ground while a trio of Kooks took turns throwing punches and kicks at their defenseless bodies. You winced as you watched Topper mercilessly send his foot right into the side of JJ's ribcage with force, causing your heart to break internally at the visual once you realized somewhere in that same area a previous bruise lingered there from JJ's dad a week before.

Rafe surveyed your piteous expression as tears began to brim in your eyes that were written over with a dolorous countenance that struck him deeply. Although it had amused him to watch his enemies in such a defenseless state, his merriment was soon erased by the way your hands began to shake and your tumefied lips trembled. He had never seen you in such a state of distress before, a vastly different version of the girl who was always giving him mordant comments and a insouciant demeanor. It began to settle within him that it really did hurt you to see your friends that way.

"Topper! That's enough." Rafe called out, bringing his friends to a fault in unison.

"But Rafe you-"

"I said cut the shit. You've made your point, now lets go." Rafe reaffirmed his position with his demand, causing the rest of the Kooks to remove themselves from your, now, battered friends as they groaned in agony. Rafe's sudden shift in demeanor left you both confused and speechless, wondering why he so suddenly had a change of heart in your friends' fate. But regardless, you were thankful there was some humanity inside of him left.

"Thank you." You whispered barely audibly as you looked up at Rafe as he sent daggers at his friends as they headed back over towards the two of you. You noticed that Rafe's rancorous impression began to soften as his eyes trailed down to meet yours. He huffed in a sense of defeat, a rather sincere appearance taking over his features. His azure eyes flickered between both of yours, looking as if he was in deep thought. You didn't dare to break eye contact with him, however, instead you kept your gaze locked onto him as you awaited his next response.

"You have no idea what you do to me." He muttered out quietly without even blinking. His declaration making your breath hitch in your throat as you stared up at him blankly, rendering yourself speechless once again.

"I don't understand." You voiced in a tremulous manner, one that you mentally cursed yourself for since you seemed so vulnerable against Rafe.

"Did you not see what I just did for you back there?" He retorted, a dry laugh escaping his rose-colored lips.

"For me?" You repeated.

"You really think I gave a shit if they hurt your little Pogue friends? I would've let them finish both of them off if it wasn't for that damn look on your face." Rafe sighed. For once, he had finally broke eye contact with you, leaving you to feel even more confused than you were before. You couldn't entirely wrap your head around why he was doing this, whether this was just some sick game to him or that seeing you so upset genuinely did bother him. Either ways, it was evident that he was uncomfortable discussing whatever it was that he was feeling in that moment, but you were curious, and desired a reason why.

"What are you talking about? I didn't make you do anything, Rafe." You attested, folding your arms in defense.

"You didn't have to," Rafe shook his head, looking down at you with pleading eyes that made goosebumps rise along your skin , "You have this thing about you, y/n. You walk around this island with this attitude that nothing can get to you, like nobody can say shit to you. But when it's just you and me, I see the way you become so fragile, like I'm gonna break you or something." His voice lowered as he closed in the proximity between your bodies, allowing you to feel the heat of his begin to warm yours.

"There's a part of you that's so naive. You take in the world with so much hope, like everything and everyone is fixable, like it's your job to fix them. I bet that's why you cling onto those Pogues of yours, cause you know they're damaged and you relate to it. You wanna fix them like you wish someone did for you." The blue-eyed boy continued, only for his presence to grow increasingly more intimidating than ever before. You picked up on how his voice deepend and his irises began to darken as he looked down on you, a hunger-filled glimmer in his eyes.

"You're wrong." You rejected his accusation although you weren't the least bit convincing. You hung your head low and refused to look up at him while his stare endlessly bored into your soul.

"You know I'm not," Rafe avowed, placing his index finger below your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him as he spoke, "you just don't want to admit it to yourself. You can lie all you want, but I see right through it."

"Even if it were true, what does it matter to you?" You scoffed, feeling a sense of defensiveness as though he was ridiculing you.

"Relax princess, I'm not judging." He chuckled lowly, "I'm saying that I see you for who you are. I mean, I get why you do it, trust me. But for once, why don't you let that wall down? Let me take care of you, instead of you taking care of everyone else for a change." His warm hands began to ghost up your forearms, trailing the places that made your ears ring.

"I don't know, I-"

"I'd make you forget about all that shit in your past," Rafe came down to whisper in your ear, his lips a mere centimeters from touching your skin, "make you feel good for once." He cooed.

You were strong. So very strong in a world filled with gawking men and empty promises. But when you saw that look on Rafe Cameron's face, looking down at you as though he was drunk off your presence, you could've swore your knees were going to buckle right there. You had never felt such an intensity before as you did under the gaze of the blue-eyed Kook, despite having plenty of experience prior to him. But he had much more conviction with his words than anyone else had ever shown you, a credence that you couldn't even deny yourself. You wanted to shove him off and do what your mind was telling you to, but your body and heart said otherwise. You froze right before him, allowing him to take you under his magnetizing spell while his fingers danced along your soft skin. You fought in desperation with your indecorous thoughts with hope that if you ignored them that they would go away, but you for unfortunately mistaken as the feeling of Rafe's touch became more persuasive than the voices in your head telling you to run.

"Can we get out of here?" You asked abruptly, your body full of heat.

"I thought you'd never ask."

taglist (if i forgot u please let me know, i'm trying to keep a list of everyone!):  @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d

[theamityelf]

(Mini THH AU Masterlist)

When Nagito is given the student files, for beating the Final Dead Room, he puts Tiny Makoto on top of his head before he opens the binder.

"Hey, wait!" Makoto chitters, practically swimming in Nagito's tangled hair. (He uses a very sweet-smelling shampoo. Honey-like.) "Wait, Nagito, I can't see it from here!"

This was, of course, the point. Makoto being the Ultimate Hope has changed Nagito's treatment of him in a number of ways, but it hasn't changed his reluctance to share information until he's sure what it is.

"It's okay," Nagito soothes. "Just a minute."

Because Makoto has already managed to get his foot stuck, he is too busy untangling Nagito's thick, wavy locks from his left leg to quite notice the subtle change in Nagito's breathing and the haste with which he is turning through the binder until Nagito starts making odd sounds that theoretically resemble laughter.

"Nagito?" There is no response; the odd laughter continues, intermittently. Makoto has freed himself from the tangle, at this point, though he did lose a shoe in there. He makes his way to the front of Nagito's head, trying to see what's wrong, but Nagito finally notices him again and grasps immediately onto the reminder that he's not alone:

He drops the binder to the floor with a heavy thud, once again denying Makoto the chance to even glimpse what's inside, and swiftly removes Makoto from his head.

(Ever since learning of the 'Ultimate Hope' thing, he never lets Makoto stand on just one of his hands; he always cups both hands beneath him, like a papasan chair.)

"Oh, I understand now!" he exclaims, and Uh-oh, he's got that look in his eyes. "Why the Ultimate Hope was given to me. Now I understand. I understand." He repeats the words 'I understand' like they're his lifeline. His speaking rhythm is erratic, going from his usual slow, contemplative pace to something desperate, like he needs the words to leave his mouth because they disgust him.

"Nagito, what happened? What did the binder say?"

It's unclear whether he even hears him. "You should...hate me, you know. You should have hated me as much as I loved you. You should be repulsed to be held by me. I'm so filthy...I understand, I understand. If your goodness allows you to tolerate me, think what might have happened..."

"You're not making sense. Why would I hate you? You're my friend!"

"Don't say that."

"You are! Nagito, please just tell me what you read! You might have misunderstood it or something!"

Nagito violently shakes his head. (Makoto sees his shoe go flying across the room, but that's the least of his concerns right now.) Then he shuts his eyes and takes some deep breaths. When he opens them again, he has...a smile on his face. "I'm sorry. My self-indulgent reaction has alarmed you," he says. His head slowly dips to the side, his expression slackening. "I'd ask you to pardon my theatrics, but you've already pardoned far too much. Let's see..." He starts to semi-casually search the room.

"What's going on?"

"I think I'll explain it when we're back at the cabin. Okay?"

Makoto frowns, half-willing to accept the delay, but... "You seemed really upset."

"I had no right to be. Ah!" With a satisfied look, he opens some kind of cabinet. Makoto can't see what's inside, from the position he's in. "Perfect. Now, if this place is as well-stocked as I hope, I can wrap you in some kevlar and put you in my pocket."

"But what about the investigation?!"

"I'll get around to that. After all, we know better than to believe that the others will figure everything out on their own."

"Huh?" Makoto is stunned by the sheer reproach in Nagito's voice when he speaks those words. He's never heard anything like that from him before, least of all towards his classmates.

At the sound of Makoto's surprise, Nagito's gaze fastens on him again, instead of whatever is in that cabinet, and a wistful smile softens his face. His thumb caresses Makoto's cheek adoringly, almost involuntarily, it seems. (It almost reminds Makoto of Mikan, and how she would handle Taka. And thinking of Mikan reminds him of exactly how helpless it is to be this small.)

"Don't worry," Nagito says. "Ah, I know trash like me has no business giving you any command, but...what I mean to say is, I will ensure you don't have to worry. I will ensure it, with everything I have. If I can protect you...perhaps my worthless life has value. No, that's putting it strongly. It has use."

"...Seriously, what happened?!"

[olichat-reads]

No Secret

Sero Hanta x reader

Summary: casually dropping the bomb about your crush onto your classmates, bestfriend & said crush himself

(she/her) reader

A/n: another bestfriend to lovers! is anyone surprised at this point ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ

🌟

You were doing your homework in the common room, Sero sitting on the couch behind you, practicing new braids he learnt from his sister on your hair. Some of your classmates were lingering around too, mostly the girls that gossiping & squealing as you half listen in on their discussion.

"Hey, hey, y/n. What about you? Do you have a crush on our classmates?" Hagakure turned the spotlight to you.

"Hm~ yeah," you replied distractedly. Substitute x with 3.. bring 4 to the left..

"What really?!" The excited high pitched squeal from your pink skinned friend made you flinch.

"It must be Sero, right? Those two are practically dating!"

You felt the hands of the guy in question in your hair freeze at that. "Guys, I'm right here-"

"Ehh~ but isn't that because they're bestfriends though?"

"She must have a crush on todoroki too right? Like the rest of the female population~"

"Pft. What if she's one of those that fancies Bakugou's pretty face though? Did you know I just heard some of the first & second year girls & guys fangirl him during training!"

"Whaat- y/n doesn't look like a Bakugou simp though-"

"Its Sero."

The room falls dead silent.

"..what?"

"Its Sero. I have a crush on Sero," you said casually, not even lifting your gaze from your notebook, before trailing off, eyebrows pinched as you continued scribbling formulas onto the paper. Wait no.. 5x would be 15.. minus 32, carry to the other side..

You thought nothing of it until the feeling of every pair of eyes in the room on you made you squirm & finally look up from your work.

"What? Its not like a secret or anything?" You asked, confused at how genuinely shocked your classmates are at the news.

Another beat of silence.

"WHAT"

"WAIT REALLY-"

"Did you know about this??" Mina blurt out, eyes narrowed at Sero accusingly.

"Wh- no!" Sero all but sputters, unable to stop the heat from creeping up his neck.

"Really?" You quipped, looking away from your work again infavour of looking back at him. "I've been flirting my ass off to you, Hanta. Thats kinda rude," you teased half-heartedly before going back to your homework. One last question.

Again. Stunned silence.

You ignored it though, determined on getting your assignments done so you can get back to raising sheepies on your virtual farm.

"Well, I can't say she was subtle about it," Mina huffed out, seemingly annoyed she didn't get to play matchmaker it seems.

That is true though. You were not at all shy of showing your affection to your bestfriend. And Sero never reciprocated any less either. The two of you had grown so comfortable with casual physical affection you were practically glued together by the hip 24/7.

Leaning on each other as if the weight of your own bodies were too heavy to be supported on your own, especially after long days of training.

Burrowing your way under his arm & into his side to butt into a conversation you were late on, arms draped loosely around his ridiculously slender waist, before you'd attack him until he fell over cackling with tickles every time because he fell for it every time.

Having his arms wrapped snugly under your ribs with his chin resting on your head as you played away on your phone while you two waited in line for your weekly overpriced coffee dates.

Physical affection aside, you were each other's first choice.

For everything.

You paired up during training, having compatible quirks that allowed you to come up with combo moves that further motivate you to team up in the future.

Sero would be the first person you'd run to, text or call at any good news you receive to celebrate with, knowing he shared your happiness as it were his own & you his.

He was also the person you'd turn to on bad days you didn't feel like human interaction, coming over to his room unannounced, flopping beside him on his bed before promptly falling asleep because you felt safe by his side.

He was your bestfriend. Your home & safeplace.

Of course you loved him.

Regardless of romantic interest, before anything, he was your person. Your bestfriend.

It honestly shouldn't be surprising to anyone that you'd developed feelings for him.

"But thats such a good technique though! Be so obvious about it, to the point that its questionable," Uraraka chimed in thoughtfully. The conversation carried on, the heat slowly getting off of you, & the gentle hands in your hair resumed their work. You tuned out the chatter in favour of focusing on your last question.

Letting out a breath of relief, you leaned back between Sero's legs when you finally finish the last of your assigment. Stretching your limbs, you realized the little crowd had mostly dispersed, leaving Uraraka & Tsuyu to their own conversation on the couch at the far end.

"You done?" Sero finally spoke up since you dropped that interesting little tidbit of yours.

"Mhm," you hummed, craning your neck upwards to meet Sero's face. "Pft you're still blushing- BWAH-" you squealed out when Sero caught your face between his long fingers, lightly pinching your cheeks.

"What's with that very casual & very public confession of yours, hm?"

"It washn't a shecwet!"

"Well, I didn't know!"

"Das caushe youwe dum- wAH! AHAHA-" another tug on your cheeks had you squeaking out again before you burst out laughing when those damned fingers ran up your sides, toppling you over into his hold. Sero barely held on to his faux annoyance for a measly few seconds before he was snickering along with you.

"And when exactly were you going to tell me? I doubt you planned to break the news in front of our friends like that."

"Nah. I don't know," you smiled up at him doppily, removing his hands from your face. "Had no plans but the opportunity was just there. Had to take it. Plus, you can't be too mean if you were going to reject me."

"You thought that there's a possibility I'd reject you? And to be mean at that? Who's the dumb one now, hm?"

"Still you. AND TAKE YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM MY SIDES. TRY TICKLING ME AGAIN & I WILL FIGHT YOU, BITCH."

Sero feigned an offended sound.

"Calling me dumb and a bitch? You're lucky your little crush is mutual."

You stopped your squirming in favour of twisting wround to face your bestfriend & to look at him. Really look. Your eyes traced over before you broke out beaming at him.

"Really?" You asked quietly, smiling so wide with eyes shining so hopefully Sero would've hated himself if he answered any other way. You watched his face soften with adoration as he huffed out a little laugh.

"Yeah."

You couldn't help the stupid, dopey grin that tugged on your lips at that. "Good," you grinned up at the dumb bitch you loved so much. "No take backs."

🌟

A/n: i love the trope where their adoration for each other is so BLATANTLY obvious and they don't give a SHIT. like none of those awkwardness or denial when people tease- just straight up 'yea. its cuz i love him' and 'i love her. as simple as that.' EXCEPT IT STILL DRIVES PEOPLE INSANE BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS WHAT KIND OF LOVE THEY MEANT and these two just lowkey act dumb while their friends lose their mind. this is becoming a drabble lmao 😂 i'll shut up now.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Hello unknowable horror we all love dearly! Tell me, do you have a minute to spare to talk about our lord and saviour: THE CONCEPT OF SHANKS TRYING TO BE THE WINGMAN FOR MIHAWK WHEN HE SHOWS INTEREST ON FUTURE S/O, SINCE SHANKS KNOWS THEM, TRYING TO INTRODUCE MIHAWK AND DOING A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE JOB AT IT FOR MIHAWK'S TASTE?

Mihawk wants to more over, introduce himself in his own time and manner, gauge out this person, charm them on his own. Cue Shanks practically dragging Mihawk in front of future S/O which not only almost ends on him colliding against them face first and sending them flying, but his hat getting knocked onto covering his face in the process and them being hit with the sides of his jacket. Shanks is trying to hype up Mihawk to S/O in the most obvious way possible and Mihawk has never had a deeper motivation to cut Shanks in half without even needing to use Yoru bY THE GODS, JUST SHUT IT RED HAIR-

All the while future S/O is just staring at this man obviously pissed of at Shanks and who the red haired pirate won't even let get a proper sentence in without cutting in with an 'amazing story about Hawkeye', but joke's on Mihawk, because as Shanks' luck usually does, it works, and they're finding themselves smiling at the tall, dark swordsman

Oh dear sweet cosmic infinity, I'm getting second-hand embarrassment for Mihawk just picturing the fiasco. Poor, poor baby.

Wanted to just be subtle about it and Shanks (no doubt at least half-drunk) pulls a live-action-Usopp like "HEY HEY HEEEEY MEET MY BEST FRIEND—oh, oops—"

Also manages to spill rum everywhere, tries to assist in straightening Mihawk's hat and Mihawk just swats his hand away like a temperamental cat.

And the stories just gradually get more and more embarrassing as the situation devolves into a game of who-among-the-Red-Hairs-has-the-funniest-Mihawk-story

And future S/O is deeply amused, but has enough tact and sense to distract Shanks and his crew by ordering everyone a round of drinks

And sneak off with Mihawk while Shanks is distracted, smirking and noting the twitching in his eye and commenting, "I get the impression you're not actually best friends."

And Mihawk just:

"I am strongly considering tearing off his remaining arm and beating him to death with it."

But all in all it technically worked, since he does have future S/O alone now.....

And Shanks is never ever going to shut up about how he's now officially the World's Greatest Wingman™.

[meazalykov]

you smell like vanilla

selma bacha x lyon!reader

warnings: none

As I step onto the field, the familiar scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the cool crisp air of Lyon's training ground. This is where I belong, where I feel most alive. As I zip up my blue windbreaker jacket, I cover my lower face with a black ski mask so the cold air doesn’t trigger my allergies. 

As I place my ski mask over my face, I am reminded of the ritual I never skip. A spritz of vanilla-scented perfume consumed my nostrils and I remind myself of my signature perfume I put on before practices. The delicious scent wrapping me in its comforting embrace. It's a small indulgence, a reminder of myself and my home. And as I catch a whiff of the sweet fragrance, I can't help but cough one time—maybe I sprayed a little too much this morning.

Practice is grueling, demanding nothing but perfection for the upcoming champions league semifinal against PSG. Yet, amidst the drills and tactics, there's always the distraction lurking nearby. Selma Bacha, the best left-back in the world—she's a force to be reckoned with. But my heart flutters everytime I see her. It's not just her talent that captivates me; it's the way her french eyes light up when she's on the field, the passion that radiates from her every move.

And then there's her reaction to my vanilla perfume every time she's near me. It's subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but I see it in the way her gaze lingers a moment longer, in the way she inhales deeply when she passes by. It's a secret I guard closely, the knowledge that something as simple as a scent can stir such emotions. But Selma, she's not one to hold back.

“*sniff sniff*---hm–--délicieuse” Selma sniffs extremely close to my neck before looking me in the eyes. She smirks before walking around me to get to the other side of the pitch. I wasn't fluent in French but I had an idea on what she said, considering this isn't the first time she's done this.

Her flirtatious banter, her playful nudges – they're impossible to ignore. And though my heart races at her proximity, I fake my annoyance, masking the turmoil and gushy feelings within as I roll my eyes. It's safer this way, I tell myself, to keep my feelings hidden beneath a facade of annoyance.

“I saw that.” Ellie says as walks up to me. We both start drills on the agility ladder at the same time. My eyebrows knitted together before asking the Australian, “What do you mean?” 

“I saw that interaction between Selma and you.” 

“Its not-” 

“Don’t pretend that you didn’t like what she did.” Ellie cuts me off with a smirk as I roll my eyes again.

See, I'm not as subtle as I think. All of my teammates, especially Ellie, Lindsey, and Danielle, see through my charade with knowing glances and a teasing grin. They know the truth, I didn’t have to tell them. My poker face might’ve been decent to strangers but my eyes can’t conceal my true feelings for the French woman. My heart skips a beat whenever Selma's near, that beneath my tough exterior lies a vulnerability I dare not show.

Hours later, as the sun sets and the day draws to a close, I retreat to the comfort of my nightly routine. The warm water cascades over me in the shower with a mingling with the scent of vanilla that fills the air. I take my vanilla scented scrub and lather it over my body, making sure the dead skin goes away before I shave. My night routine is a moment of solitude, a chance to unravel the knots of each day’s events.

But even in the sanctuary of my shower, I can't escape her presence. Selma's laughter echoes in my mind, her image etched into my thoughts. As I finished shaving and started to wash myself with a Vanilla scented body wash, I hope that she will notice the scent in training tomorrow morning. 

And as I towel off and slip into bed, I can't shake the feeling that despite my best efforts, I'm falling deeper with each passing day for Selma.

The next morning after a grueling training session, Danielle corners me with a determined look in her eyes. She knows there's something I've been hiding, something I've been avoiding. However, I am the strongest on the team when it comes to hiding my feelings. With a gentle yet persistent tone, the Dutch begins her heartfelt plea.

“Danielle, not now.” I sigh, feeling drained and exhausted. But Danielle is not one to let things go, especially when it comes to relationship matters.

"Y/N, we need to talk about Selma," Danielle insists, her voice soft but unwavering. "I see the way you look at her, the way you light up when she's around. You might believe that you’re hiding your feelings very well– but you aren't. Sorry but trust me, she feels the same about you."

I'm taken aback by her words, a flicker of hope stirring within my heart. Before I can respond, Danielle continues, her words flowing freely.

"I know you're scared, Y/N. Scared of letting someone in, of being vulnerable. We all know about the shield you try to put up so you can be the “stronger person”. But love isn't a weakness; it's a strength you know?? And Selma, she's worth the risk. She won’t tell you how she feels about you unless you give her the green light."

My defenses begin to crumble, the weight of my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. As much as I wanted to say it– my words choke inside of my throat. After a quick deep breath, while shaky, I met Danielle's gaze, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Danielle, you don't understand. I'm not just scared of being vulnerable. I'm scared of being in love with her. It's like... like giving someone the power to break me into a million pieces. Especially since we are on the same team, you know? Is this how you and Ellie felt before you guys were together?” 

“Yes–but we took the chance. Now we are getting married next year!” Danielle smiled. This gave me reassurance as I smiled at the shorter woman. 

Danielle's expression softens at my smile, a silent understanding passing between us. She reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder covered with the blue lyon windbreaker.

"I get it, Y/N. I really do. But sometimes, you have to do it before it's too late. Just tell Selma how you feel so you can stop stressing yourself out.” 

My heart aches with the weight of Danielle's words, the truth ringing loud and clear in my ears. And as I looked towards the goal post closest to the two of us, I knew I needed to tell Selma how I felt. If Danielle wasn’t wrong, maybe I won’t embarrass myself. 

An hour later I sit in the passenger's seat of Selma’s car, the engine idling softly as Selma sits beside me, the silence between us almost tangible. Before this, I asked her in the locker rooms if we could talk somewhere. Believing that the locker room around teammates wouldn’t have been the smartest idea, we chose to go in her black suv instead. My heart races with nerves, my palms damp against my thighs covered with my black yoga pants. This is it, the moment I've been building up to, the moment I can't avoid any longer.

Before I could start, Selma spoke up first with a laugh: “You smell very good.” 

I laughed softly before saying thank you. Remembering that i’ve purposely sprayed my vanilla perfume on before leaving the locker rooms to get here.

"Selma," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "um—there's something I need to tell you."

She turns towards me, her gaze soft and encouraging, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. This look was unusual for the hyper and silly woman, "What is it, Y/N?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage, knowing that this is a moment that could change everything. "I... I love you, Selma. Um— I love you more than just a teammate– I love you, as a lover" I said. I could have worded that better but my nervousness got the best of me. The French woman looks at me with a smirk before processing what i’ve confessed. 

For a quick moment, the world stands still, the weight of my confession hangs in the air. And then, slowly, the smirk spreads across Selma's face again, a warmth filling her eyes.

"Y/N," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "I love you too. I fell in love with you at the beginning of the season, which is why I didn't stop bothering you. I love you so much."

Relief floods through me, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as she reaches for the space on the jaw below my ear. She pulled me into a kiss which warmed my heart entirely. Her plump lips felt soft against mine and I relaxed into the feeling of finally being hers, after pretending like I didn’t want to be. 

“Damn– you own vanilla lip balm too?” Selma says licking her lips, she pulls away to look at my lips before looking at my love-filled eyes again. I laughed, knowing that I did have vanilla lip balm in my vanilla collection too, “Yes I do.” I smiled. 

"je l'aime." Selma says before leaning for a kiss again.

<3

[her-gracious-lady-herald-bits1]

Prompt: courtship

Pairing: Sera x Female Trevelyan

This is one of my older ones, but since I have a one shot related to this one, might as well use it here

---

Friggin' letters. Always in weird spots, these Jenny notes. This one's stuffed in her usual breakfast nook - well, not proper nook, more like that wobbly floorboard near where she dumps her crumbs for the tavern mice (named them all, she has. Little soldiers in her crumb army).

The Chargers are doing their morning thing in the corner, but something's off. They're trying too hard to look normal, yeah? Dalish "definitely not doing magic" with her "bow" more than usual. Skinner's actually sitting still instead of sharpening something deadly. Rocky hasn't blown anything up for at least an hour.

And Bull... that massive horned bastard's got that look. That "I know something you don't know I know" look. Probably figured it all out days ago - bet he spotted Eve sneaking off to write her fancy letters, because of course he did.

Stupid Ben-Hassrath training.

"Morning, Sera!" Krem calls out, way too cheerful for this early. "Boss was just saying how you might be getting some interesting post today."

Bull smacks him upside the head, gentle-like. "Way to be subtle, Krem de la Krem."

"Piss off, the lot of you," Sera says, but friendly-like. They're alright, even with the knowing looks and badly hidden grins. Papers go right down her shirt though - bit scratchy, that. Like wearing autumn. Tries not to look too obvious about it, but...

"Three pieces of advice," Bull rumbles, all casual-like while taking a long drink. "One: she spent six hours in the library researching traditional courtship customs. Two: Josephine caught her practicing her formal bow. Three: she's been up since dawn beating training dummies to splinters."

"I didn't ask!" Sera squawks, feeling her face go hot. But... six hours in the library? That's proper dedication, that is. Researching like it's some big important mission. Like Sera's worth all that effort.

"Didn't have to ask," Bull grins, tapping his temple with one massive finger. "Ben-Hassrath, remember? And the boss... well, let's just say subtlety isn't her strong suit right now."

Krem's practically bouncing in his seat now. "Go on then, read it! Boss has been wearing a path in the floor watching you this morning."

Right then, what's this about? Proper Jenny scrawl on this one, all wobbles and snorts...

-Sera-

Your Inquisitor sent us something... well, different. Ten whole pages of proper noble courtship-customs, traditions, the works. At first, we thought it was a prank (would’ve been a good one, mind), but then we hit the part where she went on about how much you mean to the Inquisition. And to her. She wrote that bit in smaller letters, like she got all shy just putting it down.

She didn’t miss a thing—Free Marches traditions, noble customs, even her whole family tree. Generations back, with notes and everything. Bit much, that. Sweet though, in a “someone raised her proper” sort of way. There’s a whole section about 'ensuring appropriate respect is maintained,' and Jenny Mae hasn’t stopped shaking her head and grinning since.

We’re saying yes because:

- She’s trying her heart out to do right by you, and that’s worth something.

- Anyone who fights dragons but still gets nervous writing about you is probably worth keeping around.

- Maker’s truth, we’ve not seen you this happy in ages.

**P.S.** We sent her back a fancy document, seals and all. Looked dead official—figured she’d like that.

**P.P.S.** The others say hello. Miss you here.

"Pfffft!" Sera nearly chokes on nothing, sliding right down the wall. Has to read it again. And again. No way. No frigging way! Evelyn "I Fight Bears For Fun" Trevelyan, sent a marriage proposal to the Jennies? Well, not marriage exactly, but close enough yeah? All proper and noble-like, probably used her fancy seal and everything.

This is... this is better than that time they filled Cullen's office with nugs. Better than when Cassandra found those drawings. Better than... than... everything!

Need to find her. Need to see her face. Like, right now immediately. Papers still crackling against her ribs as she runs, taking corners fast enough to bounce off walls. Some soldier yells about no running in the halls - she gives him a two-finger salute without looking back.

Training yard's where Eve always hides when she's nervous about something. Sure enough, there she is, beating up some poor practice dummy like it owes her money. Probably been out here since the birds woke up - Eve's got two types of not sleeping: the nightmary kind where she wakes up screaming about Kirkwall, and the nervous kind where she just gives up and hits things till they make sense.

That glowy hand thing's doing its morning exercise gleam - all soft and steady-like. Sera's got names for all the different glows now. This one's "Eve's brain's gone all quiet except for the hitting things part." Helps that her hands aren't doing the shaky thing so bad today - sometimes they get proper twitchy when she's been too long without the blue stuff, makes her grip go all wrong. Not that she ever says, but Sera's got eyes, yeah?

"Oi! Your Gracious Lady Bits!" Sera shouts, hopping the fence instead of using the gate like normal people. Because normal's boring, innit?

Eve goes all stiff, like someone replaced her spine with a sword. Does that thing where she keeps checking over her shoulder every few seconds - proper Templar habit that, like Knight-Commander Whatsit might pop out and grade her stance or something. The mark does that brilliant flash thing - the "oh shite she found out" glow. Then it starts flickering fast, like a candle in a draft. That's the "my stomach's doing backflips" one. Dead easy to read once you know what's what.

"Sera!" Eve's voice goes all squeaky, like it does when she's proper flustered. Sword drops a bit, probably forgot she's holding it. That fancy noble posture's kicking in now - shoulders all straight like she's at some posh tea party, except her face has gone all pink right up to that nasty scar on her cheek.

"You're... here. Now. In the morning. Not that I know your schedule! That'd be weird. I just happened to notice-"

"Ten pages!" Sera yanks the letter out, waving it like a victory flag. Bits of paper snow everywhere. Proper fancy paper too, not the cheap stuff - Eve probably spent ages picking it out, because that's what she does when she's nervous, makes everything too perfect. "Ten whole bleeding pages of 'please let me court your Jenny' complete with family trees and everything!"

The mark's going mental now, proper lightshow. Like that time they found those Tevinter fireworks and set them all off at once. Eve's face matches it - all red and glowy. Got that same look she had before fighting that dragon in the Hinterlands, all scared-but-doing-it-anyway. Weird how facing down massive lizards is easier for her than feelings and stuff.

"I... there are... it's important to..." Eve actually drops her sword this time. Clang! Goes right by her boots and she doesn't even notice, too busy doing that thing where she tries to look all official but her hands keep fiddling with her sleeve ends. Probably stretched out half her shirts doing that. "There are procedures! Rules! Things you're supposed to do!"

"Rules?" Sera's cackling now, can't help it. Watches Eve's eyes do that darting thing, like she's trying to remember something from some dusty old book.

"What, like 'How To Woo Common Folk For Proper Nobs'? Did you read a book? You read a book, didn't you?"

"Several actually," Eve mumbles, then looks horrified she admitted it. The mark's practically dancing now, matching the way she's shuffling her feet. Hands gone all twitchy again, that thing they do when she's missing her lyrium real bad or when she's proper nervous - hard to tell which right now. Probably both. "I wanted... you deserve... I mean..."

Got that look about her now, same one she gets when someone mentions Kirkwall or her fancy family - like she's trying to do everything right this time, make up for all the times before when everything went wrong. Daft tit doesn't realize Sera couldn't care less about proper anything, long as it's real.

"You complete and utter tit," Sera says, but she's grinning so hard her face hurts. Gets right up in Eve's space, close enough to see how she hasn't been sleeping proper. Dark circles under her eyes like bruises - betting she spent half the night pacing, other half writing, probably muttering those little prayers she thinks no one hears. Always does that when she's proper worried, like the Maker might pop down and give her courtship advice. Worried about this, was she? "Did you really draw little pictures on your family tree?"

"They were heraldic symbols!" Eve protests, all defensive and adorable like a ruffled owl. Hand goes straight to her sword belt - except oh right, dropped it, didn't she? Ends up grabbing air like a right fool, which makes that scar on her cheek go all white like it does when she's flustered. "I wanted to be thorough! And... and clear about my position and..." Catches herself standing noble-straight again, then deliberately slouches like she's trying to make up for it. "Oh Maker, this is why I wrote it down instead of saying it out loud."

The mark's settled into that nice buzzy glow now - the "everything's alright" one. Like sunshine through honey. Funny how it matches her eyes when she's happy - all warm green instead of that sharp templar-training look she gets when she's being all Inquisitor-y. Eve's still looking at her all nervous though, like Sera might run off or laugh or something (well, more laughing, but the nice kind). Keeps rubbing her thumb over her fingers too, that thing she does when she's trying not to reach for lyrium that isn't there anymore. Like she needs the extra nerves right now, stupid woman.

Got that same look she had back when she first started dropping cookies off - all hopeful and scared at once, like someone who's used to everything good turning bad but wanting to try anyway. Makes Sera want to shoot arrows at everyone who ever made her expect the worst. Starting with that poncy noble family of hers, maybe that brother she never talks about except when she's had too much wine.

The mark's settled into that nice buzzy glow now - the "everything's alright" one. Like sunshine through honey. Eve's still looking at her all nervous though, like Sera might run off or laugh or something (well, more laughing, but the nice kind).

"So go on then," Sera says, poking her in the chest. Right where that nasty scar from the pride demon is - Eve never talks about that one, but Sera's caught her rubbing it when reports come in about rifts. "Ask properly. All formal-like. Want to see if you stammer as much saying it as writing it."

"Must I?" Eve looks like she'd rather fight another dragon. Actually, she would - give her something to hit and she's fine, but feelings make her go all wobbly. Mark does that quick flutter - the "gathering up courage" flash. Same glow it had before she jumped in front of that fireball meant for Sera last month, except this time she's scared of words instead of burning.

"Oh yes, Your Worship," Sera puts on her best fancy voice, the one she uses to mock Vivienne. Sees Eve wince at the title - still hates it, even after all this time. Good. "One must observe all proper protocols and such. For honor and virtue and other noble shite."

"Sera of the Red Jennies," Evelyn starts, her voice wobbling like she’s holding back a cough. "I humbly request the honor of—of courting you. Properly. As befits someone of your... status." She swallows hard, glancing down at her hands like they might save her. You deserve—there’s a way these things are done, and—and I thought you might like it if I.."

Sod that. Sera grabs her face, callused fingers brushing the soft edge of Evelyn’s scar. Eve freezes, lips parting in a startled 'mph!'—the kind of sound she makes when she’s caught off-guard by something that isn’t a fight. Her hands twitch mid-air, fluttering like she doesn’t know where to put them, until they finally settle—one on Sera’s arm, the other clumsily curling in her hair. Sera presses closer, tasting metal and mint, and Maker, Evelyn’s shaking like a leaf, but she’s not pulling away."

"That's yes," Sera tells her when she pulls back. Reaches up to muss that stupid noble-proper hair she probably spent ages trying to tame this morning. "But if you try getting us a chaperone, I'm filling your rooms with bees. The angry ones. From that nest behind the tavern."

___

[shortnsweetspn]

03.

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 || 𝐛𝐛𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖: Graphic Violence

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 607

⁃ dividers by @anitalenia -

Lauren stood at the crime scene, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her jacket. The yellow tape fluttered in the cold breeze, marking the boundary where officers moved with practiced precision.

For a moment, she let the scene wash over her: the chaos of cops shouting orders, the cameras flashing, the steady hum of forensics teams methodically working.

It was routine. Another murder. Another day as a detective.

But something about this one gnawed at her, a subtle wrongness that refused to be ignored.

"Detective Prescott," a voice called, breaking through her thoughts.

She turned to see Officer Hayes approaching, his face pale, his eyes clouded with unease.

"What do we have?" she asked, keeping her tone professional.

"Male victim, mid-to-late twenties. Gunshot wounds-two to the chest. No ID on him, but the local PD ran his prints. They're saying it's Dean Winchester."

The name hit her like a blow, sharp and disorienting. She struggled to keep her expression neutral, but the tightness in her chest betrayed her. 

Dean Winchester.

She hadn't seen him in years and hadn't let herself think about him for nearly as long. But now, the memories she'd buried clawed their way to the surface.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

Hayes nodded, his jaw set. "Positive."

Without another word, she followed him toward the body. The techs were finishing up, their movements precise as they unzipped the black bag. Lauren braced herself. 

When they pulled back the bag, time seemed to slow.

The face staring back at her-pale, bloodied, and lifeless-was unmistakable. Dean.

Her throat tightened, her breath catching in her chest. His features, though bruised and battered, were still his. She knew that face better than she wanted to admit.

But then her eyes caught on something-or rather, the absence of something.

No.

Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze scanned his neck, his chest. The amulet was missing.

Dean never went anywhere without it. That small, weathered pendant had been as much a part of him as the smirk he always wore or the weight of the world in his eyes. It wasn't just jewelry; it was a symbol of who he was.

Lauren's mind raced, questions piling up faster than she could process. Why was Dean here in St. Louis? What had he been involved in? And the amulet, why's is it gone?-if this was even Dean at all?

"Detective Prescott? You okay?" Hayes' voice pulled her back, his concern evident.

Lauren forced herself to look away from the body, shoving the flood of emotions deep down where they wouldn't get in the way. 

She turned to Hayes and nodded, her voice steadier than she felt. "Yeah. I'm good."

But she wasn't.

Walking away from the scene, she kept her steps deliberate, her expression neutral. Only when she was out of earshot did she let her guard slip, glancing back at the body one last time.

Something was wrong here-something beyond the missing amulet, beyond the cold, lifeless body lying on the ground.

Because deep down, she knew.

Dean wasn't dead.

That wasn't Dean.

She didn't know how she knew. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was the way her gut twisted every time she looked at the body, or maybe it was because she couldn't believe the man she knew could be reduced to this. But whatever it was, it didn't matter.

Lauren straightened her shoulders, determination hardening her resolve. She wouldn't stop until she had answers. No matter where the trail led-or how dark the truth turned out to be.