#this has been going on since they were kids

[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 air, 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 rolling 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.

[wonderjanga]

Little Billy the Assistant

Zatanna was looking for the Champion. She’d wanted to ask for his help procuring an ingredient for a potion. All she expected was a short trip and maybe adventure. What she didn’t expect was running into a magically gifted orphan homeless looking kid.

Zatanna: *takes a detour a cramped street with a bunch of stalls selling stuff*

Billy: *ahead of her, heads to a gate leading to an alley, looks around for a bit before literally melting the lock off*

Zatanna: *sees this and stares*

Billy: *casts one more glance back before nearly feeling his soul leave his body at the sight of her looking at him*

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Zatanna thought he was scared because he got caught by someone using magic in public. Billy was actually scared because she saw his civilian form do magic. Because what if she connected it back to Cap or something?!

Anyways, they made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact from across the street before Billy bolted into the alley. She tried to follow, but the crowd of the cramped street kept getting in her way, and by the time she got to the alley he was gone. Having lost him, she decided to ask Cap about the little boy about a week later when they were both at the Watchtower after he’d helped her find the ingredient she’d wanted. As for why it took a week for her to find him and ask for help? Billy had been avoiding her. Anyways…

Zatanna: “Cap, have you seen this little kid running around?”

Marvel: *immediately knew she was probably talking about him* “You’re going to have to be more specific than that Zatanna.”

Zatanna: “Okay… this little blue eyed black haired short little thing, maybe nine or 10-”

Marvel: *a little offended because he’s 12*

Zatanna: “-I saw him do magic the other day so he’s magical too. You know anything about him?”

Marvel: “Maybe? Why do you care about him?”

Zatanna: “Because recently I’ve had this idea of maybe having a little stage assistant.”

Marvel: “I thought you said you never wanted to share the spotlight or something?”

Zatanna: “That is true, but he was adorable! And I’m pretty sure he was also homeless.”

Marvel: *doesn’t know how to feel about being called adorable* “So…?”

Zatanna: “So he’d become my assistant and learn how to do his magic better since I doubt he has a teacher if I’m right about him being homeless. There’s also the added bonus of earning money which will benefit whether or not he actually is homeless.”

Marvel: *was prepared to say yes as soon as he heard money* “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Zatanna: “Oh? So you do know him.”

Marvel: “Maybe.”

Zatanna: “Maybe?”

Marvel: “Maybe. By the way, I’m pretty sure that kid you’re talking about has a job as a radio show host so he might not accept your offer if it conflicts with his schedule.”

Zatanna: “Radio show host? That’s a little retro, no? Buuuuuut… if he’s a show host, that at least means he has some pizzazz, so he could probably be good on stage too! As for the schedule thing, I mostly do night shows so he should be good.”

Billy mulled over this decision for many(two) days before deciding he’d accept her offer. As Cap, he told her to meet Billy at a popular street.

Billy: *waiting near a fountain and contemplating every decision he made up until his*

Zatanna: “Ah, it’s you! I assume Cap told you about my offer?”

Billy: “Yes? Could we uh… talk more about what the job would be like?”

Zatanna: “Of course! But first, let’s get some food in you.”

Billy: “What? Why?”

Zatanna: “Bud, you’re practically skin and bones.”

Billy: “Oh.” *sounds upset*

Zatanna: “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset! Try to think of the positives! I’m getting you food!”

They went to a little diner and ate while discussing all the things. What his job as an assistant would be, his pay, and so on.

Zatanna: “You sure know how to talk business, little guy.”

Billy: “Thank you…?” *sounds confused*

Zatanna: “I meant that in a good way.”

Billy: “Oh. Thanks then.” *smiles*

Zatanna: *just barely resists the urge to pinch his cheeks*

Zatanna stand by the fact that this kid was, in fact, incredibly adorable. Such a cutie honestly. And he’s such a sweetheart, too. After this meeting, they met up a couple more times, so Billy could rehearse being her assistant before he actually went on stage. Then the day came that he finally had to do his job…

Billy and Zatanna: *standing behind a curtain on stage*

Billy: “Uhm… Ms. Zatanna?”

Zatanna: “Yes?”

Billy: “What happens if I’m not good at being an assistant?”

Zatanna: *pauses to think* “Well, you’d stop, but I’d still continue trying to help you with your magic.”

Billy: “You mean that?” *just happy she wouldn’t immediately kick him to the curb*

Zatanna: “Of course.” *again has to resist pinching his cheeks*

The curtains soon opened after that conversation. The show must go on!

I’ll leave it up to you guys on whether he did good or not.

[makethemhoesmad]

merry christmas, please don’t call

merry christmas!!!!

azzi x paige

1.14k words

please live react

if you’re sad about the angst blame @lupinqs and @imaginespazzi

—

“fuck this,” paige groans, flinging herself down onto the couch and bringing her hands to her face. she’d been sitting, rigid, staring at the gifts with her name under the tree, wondering if she should return them or save them. some of them, she’d bought three months ago, so soon she could probably still bring them back and get a refund. she flips her phone over, checking to see if one of the girls had messaged her, inviting her over to do something. it was christmas eve, after all. no messages, not even one that she definitely wasn’t looking for. 

…

azzi’s laugh rings through her family’s living room, but if someone would have looked at her, they would have seen that it barely brushed her smile, didn’t even touch her eyes. there weren’t even any presents for paige under the tree, she noted. her mom had definitely bought something, they love loved her too much to not have thought of her before it happened. would they get them to paige still, somehow? what would azzi do with the hoodie, the shoes, the necklace she bought her?

who was she kidding, she’d sleep with them tonight, clutching them tight in her arms while wearing something else that still smelled like her, in the sheets they used to share.

…

paige knocks back another glass of something. definitely not very festive, she knows that much. sadly, it’s the only way she sees fit to rinse the images of her in matching christmas pajamas, baking cookies, under the covers…

stop, paige tells herself, because this is pathetic. begging on your damn knees because your girl(sorry, ex girl) was in a mood about an injury and told you to go fuck yourself, so you told her to go right on out of your bed. And you haven’t spoken to her since, unless it’s about basketball. Because it’s always about basketball

…

azzi gets nice and settled with her family, tucked in tight together on the couch to watch the Grinch, this year’s choice holiday movie. and it’s fine, azzi can sit there and try to forget, until a seemingly innocent little scene comes on. one who rushes up behind her husband, catching a quick goodbye kiss. that sends her over the edge, because she didn’t get a goodbye kiss. she should be cuddled here with her family and paige, and giggle when paige pecks her on the lips right along with the movie

she stands up abruptly, shaking her head and running into her room. she flings herself onto her bed, burying her face in paige’s hoodie, still laying there. 

when katie fudd walks into the room, sitting on her daughter’s bed and lightly rubbing her back, she’s thinking of paige, too. she knows that’s who azzi needs in times like this, even when paige is the reason azzi gets like this. the only way to fix her issue with paige, sadly, is with paige.

“you should call her, sweetie”

azzi sits up, shaking her head as her tear stained face crumples again. “no, you don’t get it. she begged me not to call her. told me that if i called her, she knew we’d be right back to where we were, with the same issues.” a sob comes out at the end, because really, all azzi wants to do is call paige, beg her to hop on a flight and make it here by morning, then never let her leave her arms again.

“where’s my phone,” she sighs, teary eyes set in a determined stare.

…

paige startles awake, her phone buzzing under her pillow.  the contact lit on her screen is the only one she didn’t want to see, couldn’t see. for some insane, unexplained reason, she slides to answer the call.

she hears a snuffle on the other end, then a voice croaking out, “paigey”

her resolve softens, just the way she knew it would.

“baby, is everything okay? did something happen?” she asks, even though she knows what azzi will tell her. this is what happens every time they fight, and one of them has to leave a few days after. except this time, it’s christmas. 

“no, nothing is okay,” azzi whimpers into the phone. miles away, she’s clutching the phone like a lifeline, waving her mother out of the bedroom. “i need you, please, i need anything. i need to listen to you call me baby, and hold me in your arms.”

paige tries, she really does, to say no, to be firm, to say that they can talk about it when she comes back to school, but she really needs to take some of her own time right now. but something about the way azzi’s voice cracked when she said need had paige looking up quick flights. 

she found nothing.

“paige?” azzi breathes, the line having gone silent. 

“i’m so sorry, az. there’s no flights. not one damn plane can take me to you.”

she swears she can hear azzi’s face drop, and then she really does hear the shaking, gulping sobs that break through the speakers. 

“no, sweetheart, please don’t cry. ill drive, i’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up, i swear up and down, baby, please don’t cry you’re breaking my heart,” paige grovels. she really doesn’t know how to refuse azzi, and when she’s crying, she doesn’t even think it’s possible. 

“paigey, please, please, please,” azzi whispers, saying please like it’s a mantra, like it’s keeping her warm.

“yeah, baby, i’ve got you, just try and sleep. i’ll be there as quick as i can.

paige rushes around her room, mumbling affirmations to azzi as she collects things in a duffel, then locks her door and walks to her car. she hears azzi’s deep, stuttering breath that tells her she’s cried herself right to sleep. 

…

the bed dips, making azzi snuffle and crack her eyes open. she glimpses a tired, tear-stained paige running her hand over her face. she then feels strong arms wrap around her, welcoming the protective feeling of someone near her as she falls back asleep.

…

paige holds azzi tightly, but her own eyes stay wide open. she cried silently nearly the entirety of her drive down here, thinking about how in a month or two, this fight will be back again, and they’ll do the same thing. sometimes, paige is the one begging for azzi to come and hold her. sometimes its azzi. same problem, because they’re connected, no matter how wrong it may seem, no matter how much they hurt each other, they’ll always be essential, the way you have to feel pain to gain something, and the way you have to boil noodles to soften them.

…

paige’s eyes flicker open, tasting azzi’s lips against her own.

“merry christmas, paige”

“i love you, azzi”

~ hope you enjoyed!

have a happy holiday!

[transkeiichi]

one of my best friends from middle through high school and even into adulthood despite the distance passed away when we were like 20ish.

it was so tragic. i was devastated. but at her wake everyone wore ratty punk and metal band tshirts, full goth make up, lots of long haired dudes in grateful dead tshirts. it was wonderful, honestly. there were way more people i could tell were there for her mom, but i instantly knew who was there *for her*. it was probably 2/3 her moms church and 1/3 people who knew a single thing abt her.

and everyone who was there for her mom hated us. they said we werent being respectful - i kept asking to who? who arent we being respectful to, her mom whos pissed we all look like we got out of a drunk party the night before and wandered into the funeral home in whatever we fell asleep in? probably half the people there did, and she would have adored that.

the funeral goes on, and this preacher gets up there and starts fire and brimstoning. me and her high school friends look at eachother totally fucking confused. what the hell is he saying? hes going on and on about how much her daughter (who also passed away - not going into these details) loved to go to church every wednesday and sunday. how my friend loved to take her daughter to Bible studies. how when the fucking meals on wheels showed up her daughter would dance around the parking lot of their government funded section 8 housing singing hallelujah and kids gospel songs and praising jesus.

we were pissed. the little group of weird emo bisexual girls-soon-to-boys, who grew up with her, sat in the back of the funeral and steamed. i whispered to one of them "if she could get up out of that coffin and leave this bullshit, she would." i guess that was more rude than lying about a dead persons life because some old lady turned around and gave me a nasty look. i asked her who are you? howd you know dana? whens the last time you saw her step foot in a church, cuz i havent seen her in one since we all quit going at 14 because the youth leaders stopped providing free food and that was the only reason wed been going.

she didnt have a response. but i was rude, not the man lying about her, or lying about her daughter. her daughter was only like 2 btw, she could barely walk or talk let alone dance around and sing. and meals on wheels was an incredibly embarrassing experience for her as a young, single mother raising her child. everyone judged her for getting pregnant in hs and while unmarried. she had to pretend to be christian when they came around cuz theyd always give her pamphlets and tell her god loves her and she was afraid they wouldnt stop by her apt anymore if she didnt say those things back.

her tombstone has a bible verse carved in it, because even after death she has been forcibly christianified no matter how many times she told me she didnt believe in god, she believed in kurt cobain, and she hoped if she got reincarnated she came back as a cat.

none of that shit mattered and when i expressed how fucking rude this shit was, i was told the funeral wasnt for her it was for comforting her mother. i said so if i decide to lie abt u after u die and say you were an atheist just like me and ur scared of the black void after death, thatd be ok?

no one likes that question.

anyway, this particular subject is a sore spot. this was my friends blog, let me know if u think she might have been a Secret Christian @1000silentneedles-blog (warning her header is Very Flashy)

I know I just restating the point of that post but respecting religious freedom will sometimes require you to respect someone's belief that religious beliefs are categorically untrue, and there are a lot of people who are unable to handle this, and even more people who think they agree with this but haven't really grappled with what it means.

[kookygranger]

Blue Christmas

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Aka Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Three

Summary: The town of Hawkins calls for you once again this Christmas, but with sugar-laced memories of a certain metalhead tainted by a recent breakup your stance on the holiday season has returned in full force.

Warnings: angst with fluff ending (it's a Hallmark Christmas!), casual holiday drinking, exes to smitten, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 6.8k

Author's note: It's been a year since we were all here in this little corner of the world so I would just like to say – whether there were more moments of accomplishments, love, gratitude, euphoria, or just more of the same as these past few years seem to have presented so many of us – I hope you find some form of joy and a moment to breathe at the end of another year, or at least that it comes to you soon. You are not alone in this feeling; we keep on moving.

Part One | Part Two

8 weeks ‘til Christmas

“I’m gonna book my flights tonight, do you want me to do yours too?” The blank stare you give Robin is reciprocated when she looks over at your silence. “The price will just go up if we wait.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Booking flights. For Christmas. To Hawkins.” Your frown deepens with every additional sentence she pushes out. “We talked about this last month.”

“You thought I was serious?”

She shifts her body to face yours on the sofa, tucking her leg in. “When I asked if you were coming you said, oh sure!”

“Robin, it’s called sarcasm. I thought you were fond of the language.”

She frowns back at you, “You’re not coming for Christmas?”

You shake your head, “You can’t be serious.”

“Everybody’s expecting you.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re not.”

“You had so much fun last year–“

“Robin.”

“–Max and El want to go ice skating with you, and Steve’s already making plans–“

“Robin!”

“What?!” She throws her hands in the air, her shoulders meeting her ears.

“Eddie and I broke up.”

She nods once, “I know.”

“Okayyy, so what makes you think I could ever go back to Hawkins?”

“You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I can’t crash your Christmas are you kidding?! I’m the ex-whatever now. I’m the outsider again.”

She rolls her eyes, “Except you’re not. You’re a part of the family. Everyone’s so excited to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t think Eddie is.”

She breathes out a huff, “I think if the two of you saw each other this whole thing would just blow over.”

You tuck your legs towards your chest, focusing back on the TV.

“I’m not having this conversation again. Eddie was very clear about what he wanted. He doesn’t want to see me, and I’m never ever going back to that town. Especially, not for Christmas.”

***

7 days ‘til Christmas – Hawkins, Indiana

“Are you just gonna stand there pouting the whole time or are you gonna join in?”

Robin’s voice snaps your attention from Frank Sinatra crooning from the open window of her parent’s house. You frown, looking down at the string of lights wound around your hands then up at Steve as he balances on the ladder, placing the lights along the gutter and brushing the snow away as he goes.

You peer around the ladder at Robin, holding her own bundle in the warmth of the house. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Try looking a little less like you’re being held against your will.” She shouts through the window.

You’re about to tell her that’s exactly what’s happening, thinking back to a couple of days ago when Steve had shown up out of the blue at your shared apartment, telling you he was going to drive Robin home for the holidays before suggesting you all go out for something to eat before they left. It had taken you 28 minutes to ask where on earth Steve was going, initially distracted by his detailed update of Dustin’s last year of college. You clocked the shifty look he shared with Robin in the front seat at the same time you realised you were about to turn onto the highway.

But Steve interrupts your bitter reminiscing with his own interjection, “Jesus Rob, leave her alone. I don’t see you out here freezing your ass off.”

You thank Steve as Robin rolls her eyes and resumes decorating.

“Anytime. We kidnapped you ‘cause we love you, you know that right?” He looks down in between the gap of his arms with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I know.”

He nods, “It’ll be alright.”

You give him a barely reassuring nod in return, ignoring the stinging at the back of your eyes while Frank sings about glistening treetops like the snow-capped ones lining the suburban street. You sniffle and wipe your nose quickly, hoping Steve thinks it’s just the cold and has nothing to do with how you wish it was his roommate who was comforting you instead, and the pain of knowing he was so close but wouldn’t care anymore.

You focus on unwinding more of the lights as Steve descends the ladder to move it over.

How the hell did you get dragged into this again?

***

I’m twirlin’ a cane made of peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh), uh huh (uh huh)

Nice sticky hands, sticky peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)

Spun sugary cloud I’m floatin’ on

The fresh fallen snow melts into the tyre tracks left by traffic along the main street. You watch it through the frosted glass of the diner, one hand cradling the warm mug on the table in front of you.

“Gosh, you’d think they’d give the Christmas songs a break every now and then.”

“I actually kind of like this one.”

Nancy watches you watching the outside world, checking over her shoulder to see if Robin is still occupied in the bathroom before leaning in across the table.

“So, how are you feeling about seeing him? Have you two talked about it yet? Are you both going to be at everything together or are you taking turns? We could totally do something separate if you’re not feeling up to it–we could go shopping, just us two!”

You turn to smile at her, “Jeez Nancy, you should be a reporter or something.”

She shakes her head with a smile, “Sorry. I just know things can feel a little overwhelming coming back to Hawkins with everybody here. I don’t want you to feel left out or uncomfortable or anything.” She glances over her shoulder again, “And Robin kind of seems–“

“She’s not really accepted it, I think. Keeps saying it’ll all blow over.”

“Could it?”

Your attention is caught by a man ringing a gold bell in a Santa suit walking past the window before it falls on Nancy again, with her look of quiet hopefulness. She’s smart, defiant, and effortlessly beautiful. Even in your brief encounters with her, you’ve always been in awe of her strength. You think about Steve and wonder how long it took for the pain of being around her to turn into gentleness again. You think about asking her how you can be strong and vulnerable in love at the same time.

“It just didn’t work out. I’m sure he’ll find someone better for him soon enough. If he hasn’t already.”

“Oh, n–“ Nancy flinches as Robin slaps her hands on the table, before sharing a knowing smile with you at her proclamation.

“I just had the best idea!’

“In the toilet, Rob?” You laugh, “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

She slides into the booth seat next to you, bumping your shoulder gently with hers. “I think we ditch the civilized lunch, go home, get changed and meet back at the bar for a grown-up girl’s night. Whaddya think?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think grown-ups actually call themselves grown-ups.”

“They refer to themselves as adults,” Nancy nods knowingly, “and they pronounce it a-D-ults.”

You turn your head towards Robin, “Plus our last trip to the watering hole in this town didn’t really end well for us.”

“He won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. Steve said he works late at the shop on Fridays.”

“Robin.” Nancy’s warning glare is enough to make you feel flushed, but Robin only shrugs dramatically.

“Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?! This is my best friend,” her arm squeezes around your shoulders and you giggle when she pinches your cheeks together, “and I’m always looking out for her, which is why she is here and why we’re getting festively hammered tonight at the Hideout. No boys allowed.”

***

The Hideout is exactly as you remember. All sticky tabletops, dim lighting, and gruff patrons (with the exception of a few young home for the holiday-ers). Robin wastes no time in ordering shots, keeping both you and Nancy on your toes, until you’re very much not.

“I can’t even tell which is stripes and which is…the other one.” Nancy drops her pool cue on the green table. “’M calling Jonathan.”

“I’ll call Steve!” Robin follows her to the payphone on the wall.

“But we can fit one car.” Your slightly slurred voice of reason is waved off by Robin and it’s not long until you’re waving at Jonathan’s retreating car, feeling her head slump against your shoulder, your breath leaving you in clouds.

“I don’t feel good.”

You pat her gently on the head, “Steve will be here soon.”

“No, I really don’t feel good.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

She mumbles something that sounds like a yes into your shoulder and you move swiftly to turn her body away from you and support her off to the side of the bar where there’s shrubbery. She spits a couple of times first and you think it might be a false alarm before she’s vomiting all over the bushes.

“Okay, there we go.” You pat her on the back, holding her hair away from her face.

There’s a slam of a car door echoing across the small carpark that makes you turn your head, hoping it’s Steve. When you hear another one followed by girlish giggling your attention turns back to Robin, finally starting to shiver from the cold as the alcohol begins wearing off.

“C’mon Steve.” You mutter.

The hand that’s rubbing circles on Robin’s back freezes when you hear a familiar voice cut through the giggling behind you.

“And then the car just sprays the hell out of him with oil.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You glance over your shoulder with a hammering heart; one that feels like it drops to your stomach when you see those familiar curls and his dimpled smile when the pretty girl he’s with reacts to his story. The girl who has her hand tightly clasped around his leather jacket as they walk across the close-to-icy pavement. Your head snaps back around when they get closer, and you’re thankful for the poor lighting keeping you mostly hidden until Robin’s hacking up sick again.

“Gross.”

Your eyes screw shut at her words, your body stilling until you hear the front door of the Hideout close behind them both. You’re saved moments later when Steve pulls up right beside you.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve helps you get Robin standing upright again, grimacing at the way her head lolls as you both shuffle her into the passenger seat.

“Pretty sure it was the decision to switch to spiked egg nog to keep the “debauchery festive” that did it.” You sigh, then smirk at Steve’s perplexed look, hands on hips and head shaking. “Just remember you’re moving in with that.”

He winces, “Yeah, you forget the intensity of Robin when you’re not around it that often.”

“You two are going to have so much fun.”

Steve looks at you, eyebrows raising, “I thought it was us three? You change your mind?”

You shrug, biting your lip as he watches you with confusion, “I don’t really know anymore.”

He just nods slowly then, “Okay, that’s–okay. I wasn’t gonna start looking at places until the New Year, so you have a bit of time to decide. We can talk about it later.”

There’s a momentary silence that’s interrupted by Robin mumbling something about getting fries.

“No, we’re going straight home.” Steve shuts the passenger door and squeezes you on the shoulder before walking around to the driver’s seat. You look back at the bar, expecting to see him walk through the door with a cigarette prepared in between his lips, but you quickly get into the car before you get caught.

***

6 days ‘til Christmas

The screaming kid being dragged down the aisle away from the candy does nothing to soothe the headache you’re currently enduring. Nor does the slightly flickering and dim fluorescent lights of the small grocery store, as you struggle to make a decision in front of the potato chips.

You hadn’t slept much, despite your heavy limbs and swimming head when you slipped under the covers on the sofa bed. You couldn’t get the image of him smiling at another girl off your mind.

It had only been a couple of months did he move on that quickly?

Did he know her while you were together? Was she just waiting in the wings? Did something happen between them while you were–no, Eddie wouldn’t do that. But maybe developing feelings for someone else was the catalyst for him breaking it off. God, she was pretty.

Needless to say, your brain is a little fried from the tossing and turning and struggling to make a decision about snack foods. It even takes a moment to register the questioning call of your name behind you.

You turn around.

“I thought that was you darlin’. What a surprise.”

You smile, taking in the worn flannel and pristine trucker’s cap of the older man in front of you.

“Hi, Wayne.”

He embraces you briefly, the scent of a familiar brand of cigarettes stirring a pang in your chest.

“Ed never told me you were coming back for Christmas.”

“Oh, well I didn’t know until about two days ago myself. I’m not sure if he did either.”

“Robin wear you down, did she?”

“Kind of.” You offer him a small smile.

Wayne rubs the grey stubble on his jaw. “You’re welcome to come over again on Christmas day. Whatever happened between you two, you’re always welcome.”

You frown, “That’s really sweet Wayne, but I don’t think he–“

“Hey old man, you want the creamed corn or the regular–“

You make eye contact at the same time. Eddie walks down the small aisle holding up his options, his sneakers squeak when he comes to an abrupt stop.

“Shit. I mean–hi.” He shakes his head quickly.

Wayne crosses his arms, “Christ son, what kind of greeting is that to a lady.”

You burn under the attention of the two, the situation not what you had anticipated when you entered the store. Damn small towns. You didn’t get a good look at him last night, but he looks well. His hair is freshly washed and a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve gotten that trim he kept putting off. But there’s no dimpled smile. Just a look of uncomfortable shock.

“Um, I should get back to Robin,” you hold up the basket in your hands full of sugary hangover food and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, “she’s feeling a little rough this morning.”

“You two been celebratin’ early?” Wayne smiles.

“Uh,” your gaze flickers to Eddie briefly, “just went to the bar for a few drinks last night, which Robin couldn’t exactly keep down.” You see the realisation hit him in real time, his brows creasing before his eyes widen, turning your attention back to Wayne as he chuckles.

“Well, you better get home quick then.”

“I will. Have a Merry Christmas Wayne.” You hope he doesn’t take offence to the almost grimacing smile you give him, but you can’t muster up anything better given the situation. “See you later, Eddie.” You turn without another glance at him, feeling embarrassment wash over you when you hear a light thump and Wayne’s grumble at Eddie’s complaint.

“Ow.”

“You better get your tongue untwisted next time, son.”

***

He watches the windows of his van frost over quickly after he cuts the engine and the warm air off. They said to expect heavy snow any day now, continuing into the new year. Eddie can’t move his hands away from the steering wheel.

He thought this would be the first time you’d see each other when everyone gathered at the Buckley’s for a Christmas movie night to kick off the festivities. He’d been preparing himself for this moment, even going as far as washing his hair this morning, which he was kind of thankful for given he’d run into you at the grocery store earlier.

You stole his words from him.

Not that you were wearing anything particularly flattering, he’s sure you actually had pyjamas on under your thick coat, in fact you looked a little tired. But, fuck. You always looked beautiful.

And Eddie wasn’t expecting to see you yet, especially not last night at the Hideout. He shakes his head, of course you saw that. He’s sure if there’s some higher power out there controlling his ill-fated life they had a good chuckle about that shining moment.

This was where you were supposed to be reunited, in a controlled environment around friends flowing with the holiday spirit – just like last time. He was going to find a quiet moment to talk to you, to apologise, to explain his cowardice.

Now he couldn’t work up the courage to leave the van.

It’s the banging on the window next to him that startles him out of his trance.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Despite the teasing, he can’t help but smile at the smirking, still youthful but grown faces of his younger D&D cohort.

“I bet he’s crying to a sad pop song.” Dustin nudges in beside Mike, the window framing them along with Will and Lucas as they all push up against the glass, the condensation not enough to hide their taunting looks.

The door creaks as he opens it, pushing the group away with a wave of his hand and a faux snarl. “Get inside, you little Gremlins.”

He’ll never tire of hearing their collective laughter, even if it’s at his own expense.

He follows the kids up the icy path to the house, ending up in a half-hearted wrestle with Dustin when he asks if it was Joni Mitchell he was listening to. He’s choking out a rendition of River when they tumble through the door with Dustin in a headlock under Eddie’s surprisingly firm biceps.

Your eyes are wide when they stop right in front of you.

“Can I take your jackets?”

Eddie straightens up quickly, his face flushed while the colour quickly drains from Dustin as his air supply returns.

“Uh, sure.”

You hang everyone’s coats up on the hooks in the hallway, and Eddie swears there’s a zap when your fingers brush his as he hands off his leather jacket. You’re wearing a cute Christmas sweater. Not one of those garish over the top ones, just a simple forest green and white knitted thing that makes you look cosy and makes him miss the feeling of your arms wrapped around him. You join the others in the living room off to the side of the hall without another word, leaving him standing there with his party.

“Well that was weirdly formal.” Lucas pats him on the back as he brushes past and the others follow his lead. Eddie sighs, wanting to just turn on his heel and bolt, but more determined to talk to you and encourage you to start looking him in the eyes again.  

You’re separated from him by the group crammed into Robin’s parent’s living room. Bodies spread out across couches and cushions scattered on the floor, some innocent cuddling and even more innocent squabbling. You’re only a few metres away across the other side of the room, but it feels like you’re unreachable to Eddie. He still manages to steal glances at you, laughing along to the conversations, your pretty face lit up by the Christmas tree and the company.

After what feels like hours, he finally gets his moment near the end of the film, his attention drawn to you in the dark as you stand up and make your way to the kitchen alone.

He waits a minute, praying nobody else decides to join you, before rising slowly from his seat nonchalantly walking in the same direction.

He finds you at the sink with a glass of water, looking out the window at the Buckley’s backyard.

“They say it’ll probably snow overnight.”

You jump at his voice, the water in your glass spilling over onto your hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie holds out his hands as if trying to calm a wild animal when you turn around.

“It’s okay, I was just…somewhere else.” You give him a weak smile, drying your hands on a nearby tea towel. He steps a little closer to you when it looks like you’re going to move away.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I wanted to clear the air about last night first.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” You shrug, still not catching his eye. “It’s not any of my business.”

His chest puffs up under his maroon sweater (the one you like) before he sighs, “She’s the receptionist at the shop. She keeps pestering me to get after work drinks with her.” He scrambles to get to the point when he notices you step towards the door, “She won’t get the hint every time I say no, and she stayed late last night just so I wouldn’t have an excuse. I was just tryna’ get it over with. Show her that we probably have nothing in common and let her down nicely I guess.”

“Eddie, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I saw you.” You smile, finally looking up at him and he hates the insincerity of it, the clouded over eyes that look straight through him. “You can see whoever you want, it’s none of my business.”

He shakes his head, reaching out to you, “I’m not seeing anybody, of course I’m not sweet girl–“ That gets a reaction out of you, and the anger, the lowering of your walls gets Eddie’s heart racing.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You’re looking at him now, really looking at him, eyebrows pinched in indignation.

“I want to apologise.”

3 months ago

He felt it coming from a mile off. The way you had an excuse every time you were supposed to come down to Hawkins. The way you switched subjects on the phone whenever he brought up future plans, concerts happening next year, a pay rise that meant he could afford a decent place when Steve inevitably moved out. No matter what everyone would say about his intelligence, Eddie Munson could read the writing on the wall.

So, when you finally caught up after weeks of dodged calls and visits, he had his mind set. Get out before he was pushed out. Be the breaker not the broken.  

“So, Robin and Steve moving to Indy huh?

“Mhm.” He hums in reply as you try to stir up conversation from the kitchen. There’d been an awkward silence ever since he’d walked through the door of your apartment. You watch him sitting on the edge of your couch, a dark cloud hanging over him you were trying to shoo away.

“Didn’t think them being separated would last much longer,” you breathe out a laugh through your nose and he only nods, still distant. Your hands are clammy with nerves, a slight shake to your voice he doesn’t seem to notice. “You know actually, my lease is up next month, I was thinking of moving in with Robin for a while.”

“Your place is nicer.”

You tip your head back and forth, “Yeah, but she has an extra room since her roommate moved out.”

“What are you gonna do when she goes?” His leg starts to bounce, and it’s like his mouth is moving but his mind is elsewhere.

“It’s not until next year…I was thinking maybe, well not maybe, I was just thinking that I would–“

“This isn’t working, right?” His head snaps up and it takes you a moment to answer him under his furrowed gaze.

“It’s…what?”

“I mean, I’m exhausted from all the travelling back and forth and I know you are. Why the hell would you wanna spend your weekends in Hawkins?”

You take a deep breath, “Well, I wanted to talk to you about that–”

“Great let's talk. You can’t keep coming to Hawkins.”

“I–“

“And hell, it’s not exactly like I would move here.”

Oh.

He wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Wayne’s only getting older, and Steve well he’s gonna move to Indy but it’s still close, and Robin will be there, and the kids when they come home. And I can’t just quit my job, you know I’ve got a good steady thing going, and of course you can’t so you know…where does that leave us?”

It leaves you with moving with Robin to Indianapolis. Saying fuck it to your job because you can always find another one. It leaves you with moving in with Eddie because he can find work and still be close to Wayne.

At least, you thought it did, but now…now you feel like a fool in love. Rushing into something unreciprocated, because it hadn’t even been a year, why would he be willing to move away from everything familiar for you?

“Right.”

He sighs, rubbing his face before standing up and walking over to you. “Sweetheart I just don’t see how this can work anymore.”

You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, “Right.”

“I don’t know how to…” he shakes his head and looks to the door, “Should I go?”

“If you want to.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his face harshly, “I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” He starts to walk away, pivoting quickly to give you a barely there peck on your temple then walking straight out the door with a slam that makes you flinch.

You’re left standing there, shocked into immobility. That wasn’t how you thought that conversation was going to go, but maybe you should have prepared for that. This is what happens when you leave yourself vulnerable.

You wish he’d left a more lasting kiss where you could feel the imprint of it.

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve called you and properly talked. With you and not at you. I’m so sorry. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

“That’s nice.”

“Sweet–“ he corrects himself and with a breath says your name instead, “I want to apologise.”

You shrug, eyes glazing over again. “It’s whatever Eddie. Maybe I should thank you for having the guts to rip the band-aid off. To say how you felt before–before I made an idiot of myself.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on and have a good Christmas with everyone.”

Eddie’s shoulders deflate as you walk out of the kitchen.

Maybe his fuck up was truly irreparable this time.

***

Three days ‘til Christmas

The day after movie night had been a girl’s day. Ice skating with El and Max in the centre of town, a light dusting of snow catching on your tongues as you giggled and listened to them gush about their independent lives away from home and the ever-present homesickness this time of year, even when they were with their families. Nancy had met you all after, driving you to the mall for some last-minute Christmas shopping. You’d pulled Dustin’s name for Secret Santa this year and found him some albums on cassette you’d thought he like based on what Eddie had told you he’d enjoyed of his musical teachings.

You waited up for Robin later, who’d spent the day with Steve and Eddie.

The next day, there had been a gingerbread house making competition at the Byers residence. Joyce, her two sons, El, Hopper, Robin, Mike and Steve were all there fighting over the best candy decorations and cheering over the collapse of each other’s creations. The rest were with Eddie at the mall.

Nobody had mentioned it explicitly, but it was clear that everyone was working around the issue of you and the boisterous metalhead by taking it in turns and whispering about who’d be where when. And so it was, that most of your week in Hawkins had gone by without seeing Eddie, except for the run-ins at the Hideout and the grocery store and the awkward conversation at movie night.

You were worried you were bringing the mood down. You’d tried to be comfortable around him for everyone else’s sake, but you mustn’t have been hiding your emotions very well.

So, you’d excused yourself from today’s activities – Christmas tree chopping and decorating at Steve and Eddie’s apartment – feigning a scratchy throat and headache that could only be cured by staying in and resting.

You’d actually ended up leaving the house to find the cute bookstore in town in search of something to keep you company. You’d browsed for over an hour, the comforting smell of the fresh pages of paper, the occasional jingle of the bell above the door as shoppers flowed through the store and the quiet hum of Christmas songs from the radio on the counter all enveloping you in this space of temporary peace.

By the time you leave the store, paper bag weighing one arm down as you button up your coat again, the snow that had been threatening to fall for days had well and truly blanketed the town.

“Oh.” Your voice is carried off in the wind, with the snow that’s falling down sideways. The streets are significantly quieter, the sky darker and the pavements covered.

You’d walked into town from the Buckley’s. It wasn’t particularly far but it seemed like miles in these conditions. You turn around, briefly considering calling someone from inside the store, when the shop owner flips over the sign to closed. Giving you an oblivious wave and smile which you return.

Walking it is then.

***

“I’m an idiot for thinking I could just cut and run. I hate not being able to talk to her. She’s angry, and she deserves to be, but she won’t even let me see that. I just want her to talk to me, be angry at me, yell at me. She’s not her when she’s around me anymore and it kills me. I just–I just want…I don’t know.”

Steve munches on popcorn from the bowl in front of him, while he waits for the fresh batch to stop popping in the microwave. Eddie is holding a bowl of cranberries, slumped against the kitchen table, laughter spilling through from the other room.

“Sounds like you want her back.”

“Not just that,” he shakes his head, “I still think she deserves better I just wish we could still be in each other’s lives.”

Steve crosses his arms, truly ugly Christmas sweater bunched up by his elbows. “What do you mean she deserves better?”

“I couldn’t be there for her most the time. Our relationship was over the phone, I couldn’t hold her back anymore. I spent half my life dreaming of leaving this stupid town and now I’m too chicken shit to do it. She should be with someone in her league you know. At least someone who lives in the same damn city.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Steve waves his hand around. “Are you telling me you broke up with her because of the distance?”

Eddie looks at him and shrugs, “Yeah. You knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. Anytime I tried to talk to you about it you just kept saying it didn’t work out.” He imitates a deeper, grumpy voice.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man. What difference does it make?”

Steve scoffs, “Indy’s like an hour and a half away, you couldn’t just hang on ‘til she moved?”

“She…what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Eddie!” Robin rushes into the kitchen, causing him to straighten up with the look of panic on her face. “You need to find her.”

***

Cold. Cold. Cold.

Never has anybody been this cold in the history of life itself. Cold doesn’t even begin to touch what you’re currently feeling – or not feeling, like your fingers. How long does it take to get frostbite?

You thought you were closer to the Buckley’s, but now all the snow-covered suburban houses looked the same. It didn’t help that all you could think about was the cold! Practically wading through the thick snow as it continued to pelt you side on, your feet burning with blisters or chilblains, you weren’t sure.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

The tyres slip a little as Eddie pulls quickly to the side of the road, easily being able to make out your form despite the blizzard-like conditions camouflaging everything. You were wearing that pink beret you looked adorable in.

He leaves the engine running as he jumps out, almost slipping on a patch of ice when he grabs you by the arms. He has to yell over the wind, your body trembling underneath his gloved hands, not even able to speak.

Eddie gently maneuvers you back to the van, helping you up into the passenger seat. He blasts the heat even more once he’s behind the steering wheel, reaching behind him and procuring a blanket which he tucks around you, rubbing your arms for good measure.

“Just sit tight sweetheart, I’ll get you home.”

He peels off slowly from the curb, wipers screeching in complaint against the window as he struggles with visibility.  

“It’s l-like we’re d-d-destined to repeat this scene ovver again. You evver see the movie g-groundhog day?”

His head snaps to you and he smiles, happy to hear your voice.

“I’ll always be there to find you in the snow.”

“It’s probably best I just stop coming all together.” You’ve thawed enough to stop chattering now, shifting to tuck yourself further into the blanket.

He frowns, “Don’t say that. Everyone wants you here.”

“I’m just making it harder for you to be with your friends.”

He shakes his head, eyes flicking between you and the road. “That’s not true.”

“Then why is everyone trying to keep us apart?”

“I think they were just trying to help you feel comfortable sweetheart.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I wasn’t here?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief, before the van lurches and his attention pulls back in front of him.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The engine stutters as he rolls to the side of the road and cranks the handbrake.

“What’s going on?”

He sighs, “We’re out of gas.”

“What?!” You lean over the middle, peering at the dashboard and the blinking red light. “How can you be out of gas?”

“Because I was supposed to fill up the next time I went out and I’ve been driving around looking for you!” You shrink back into your seat. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t. What grown man leaves it until the light comes on.” A smirk pulls at his lips which grows even wider when he catches you mirroring him.

“This idiot.” He points two thumbs at himself.

“Should we find a payphone to call a tow truck?” You peer out the window, unable to make out much of your surroundings.

Eddie groans and hits his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“I’m the one on call tonight,” he mumbles.

“Oh. You probably should’ve just brought the truck then.”

“Yep,” he leans back in the seat, rolling his head to look at you. “I wasn’t really thinking things through. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he offers you a small smile. “How did you know I was out here anyway?”

“Robin called her parent’s house to check in on you. Her dad said you’d gone out for a walk, but you hadn’t come back since the snow started.”

“Right. Thank you for finding me.”

He shrugs, “Like I said. I always will.”

You watch each other for a moment and Eddie’s eyes drop to your lips making a shiver run through your body.

It breaks him from his trance, “Sweetheart, we need to stay warm.” He looks over his shoulder at the back of the van, unbuckling his seatbelt and squeezing between the gap in seats. “C’mon.”

You follow him unquestioningly and he helps you with a hand on your arm. He notices the look on your face when he brings out another blanket and some pillows from a picnic basket among a small mess of boxes and junk he’d thrown back here without thought.

“They’re still in here from that time we went to Lover’s Lake. Haven’t used them since, obviously.” You offer a nod, taking the pillows and arranging them next to each other. Eddie throws the other blanket over the both of you, “Uh, we’re gonna have to get kind of close to–to stay warm.”

“Okay.”

He opens an arm out, waiting for you to slot in and pulling you both down to the floor. You breathe in his scent, a musky cigarette and peppermint enveloping you. Pure, Eddie. You’re both quiet for a while, the steady drum of his heartbeat against your ear. He sighs, and his breath shifts your hair a little, followed by his hand when he notices something.

“You’re wearing the earrings.” His hushed voice vibrating in your head makes you close your eyes.

“I love them,” you whisper back. “They make me feel a little less alone, which doesn’t make sense I know.” You feel Eddie’s lips press against your hair.

“I’m sorry sweet girl. I made a huge mistake.” Your arms squeeze him tighter, and his hand strokes the side of your face.

Eddie begins humming a tune, featherlight at first but the vibrations from his chest warm you up further.

“It was Christmas Eve, babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, “Won’t see another one”

And then he sang a song

“The Rare Old Mountain Dew”

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you”

“Don’t make me sing the duet. You know I can’t sing.” You feel his smile against the side of your head.

“Then just whisper it back.”

You sigh, “You were handsome.”

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City. When the band finished playing, they howled out for more.”

After a while Steve eventually found you. Pulling up in his new truck and bursting the bubble with a loud honk. He took you both back to the apartment where everyone fussed over you, bringing hot chocolate and a hot water bottle as they finished off decorating the tree. After Eddie placed the star on top, he led you to his bedroom to find dry clothes.

You turned his gaze back to you when you undressed, kissing him once he helped you into one of his t-shirts; his Slayer one he so loved to see you in. You swayed back and forth for a moment before returning to the mayhem, the snow still falling heavily outside the window.

“Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

He kissed your eyelids.

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

***

Christmas Eve

You’d actually fallen ill after that night, the snow-soaked clothes and below zero conditions culminating in a cough and a sore body. Eddie kept you in his bed and brought you cups of tea and soup.

Steve filled in for him when he went to tow his own van, and you threw a pillow at him when he said, “Aren’t you glad we dragged you down here now?”

By Christmas Eve you were feeling a little better, able to join in on the Secret Santa shenanigans, tucked under Eddie’s arm on the sofa. Dustin loved his tapes and gave you an awkward pat on the knee in lieu of a hug that could transfer germs. “I can’t afford the time off from school!”

You’re watching everyone’s interactions with each other, showing off presents, sharing stories, when Eddie untucks a red envelope from his back pocket.

“Merry Christmas.”

You beam at him, opening the card. Something falls into your lap. You pick up newspaper clippings with a confused furrow of your brow Eddie wants to kiss away.

They’re listings, for apartments in Indianapolis.

“Thought I’d beat Steve and Robin and steal you for myself. What do you think, roomie?”

You kiss him in response, leaning away when neither of you can keep your smiles from growing.

“Oh, I left your gifts at Robin’s.”

Eddie tilts his head, “You got me something?”

“Just some things I came across and put aside throughout the year. A couple of records, and this book I think you’ll like, and a new notebook ‘cause you’re always losing pages out of that black one.”

“You brought them with you?”

You shrug, “Yeah, well I figured I could just leave it under your tree and you’d think someone else got them.”

“I’d know it was you.” He smiles.

“Probably.”

He presses a kiss to your jaw, a bright flash distracting you behind your eyelids.

“Got ya.” Robin snatches the Polaroid from the camera’s slit, shaking it a couple of times before handing it to you with a wink.

It’s the perfect moment of contentment. Sharing a blanket on the sofa, eyes closed in peace, framed by the Christmas lights hanging on the wall.

It’s the first photo to be pinned on your fridge in your shared home.

Tagging: @bettyfrommars, @storiesbyrhi, @allthingsjoeq, and from last year @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 and @skrzydlak just in case x

[yeagersss]

Sukuna x f!Reader

In which Sukuna brings home child Uraume — 2

<— previous

It was your scream piercing through the forest that had Sukuna dropping everything and speeding up his steps.

He was coming back from a hunt while you and Uraume were walking through the woods, foraging for ingredients.

It's been a few weeks since Uraume joined you both and since then, you had showered them with nothing but love and affection. Like the child you always wanted.

Sukuna, on the other hand, was teaching the kid how to properly control their technique. It wasn't something he would ever do for anyone but he has grown to... have a soft spot for Uraume.

But when he dashed through the woods and arrived at the scene, Sukuna would never admit the way his heart sank at what he saw.

Ice.

Ice everywhere.

With you slumped against a tree, shaking uncontrollably while Uraume was next to you in tears, screaming and crying as they apologised profusely. Half of your body was covered in ice.

"No! No! My lady, please! I—I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do this! It was an accident—!" The child wailed. Memories of the frozen corpses of their parents rushing through their head.

It was just like that time.

"What have you done?" Sukuna's angered voice had Uraume backing away in fear as he got closer.

Your husband was by you in an instant, taking you in his arms. His eyes raked over your body to assess the damage. He quickly used his RCT to heal you. His heart was in his throat and he didn't stop until color returned to your face and your breathing was even.

You were going to be okay.

You were going to be okay but Sukuna was not going to let this go so easily. You... His everything... was harmed. Had almost brushed against the brink of death.

But when he looked up at Uraume with a rage of a furious storm, he paused.

The child was bowing deeply against the forest ground, body uncontrollably shaking from sobs and their little fists digging into the dirt as they repeated the same thing over again.

"I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't mean—I-I didn't mean to hurt her—!"

And those words stirred something inside Sukuna. A memory. A memory he had buried deep into his mind and vowed to never look back upon ever again.

Of a small, deformed child who had just discovered his dangerous technique.

"How could you do this?!"

"Please, I'm sorry!"

"Do you think sorry will fix this?! Will fix the damage you caused?!"

"I didn't mean to! Mother, I swear—"

"Stay away from me, you wretched thing!"

"Monster!"

"Four eyed demon!"

"He'll bring a curse upon our village!"

"Kill that deformed thing! Kill it—"

"Enough. Stand up and let's go."

"B-But my lady is—"

"She's fine."

The walk back to home was quiet. Uraume had expected their punishment the moment they stepped into the house. But after Sukuna had gently laid you on the futon, the punishment never came.

Instead, the King of Curses placed his large hand on top of the child's head and scowled disapprovingly.

"Brat, did you not get what I taught you? Focus on a single damn point and breathe. That way you'll be able to control your technique. Now—"

Sukuna lead Uraume outside again and stopped a few feet away from a deer and a fawn.

"Kill the fawn and only the fawn." The man ordered.

Uraume was in disbelief. They had fully expected a punishment for what they did but when they looked at Sukuna, there was no malice in his eyes. Instead, impatience clouded those bloodied rubies as he tapped his large foot on the ground, waiting for the moment the child would do something.

With an impossibly warmed heart Uraume turned to the fawn with a smile and followed the malevolent king's instruction.

--

You awoke a few hours later, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as memories of what happened slowly came back. Your heart sank and you tried to get up.

You had to find Uraume. The poor child!

But then you felt small cold arms secured tightly around you. Uraume was curled next you as they slept.

You calmed down and smiled tenderly, running your fingers across their snowy locks.

"They refuse to leave your side."

You looked over to see your husband leaning against the door frame. Your smile widened and you reached out to him.

Sukuna didn't hesitate, pushing himself off and walking over to you. He sat down next to you on the floor and took your delicate hand in his large one.

"I'm surprised they're even at my side."

Sukuna grunted. "They can control their technique now. So expect the brat to be glued to you more often."

You laughed softly. "Oh? And does that have something to do with you, my lovely husband?"

Of course it did because he simply refused to look at you and gave you a mere shrug. He was embarrassed. You could tell.

"My lady...?"

You turned your focus to a sleepy Uraume, gazing at you with an apologetic look.

"My lady, I'm sorry..."

You shushed them, stroking their hair affectionately. "Hush now, little one. It wasn't your fault. Sleep, okay? I'm here..."

Sukuna looked on at you and Uraume quietly. You, his beautiful wife, whispering soothing words to the child who, moments ago, was nothing but terrified of who they were.

And then he thought back to the little deformed boy with four eyes and arms running away with a tear streaked face from a mother who begged the villagers to kill him.

He knew that boy was at peace now.

<— previous

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[curiousobsession101]

I love to joke about the line "I'd like to cross examine the witness' pet parrot!" because it's just so silly!

It's also the sheer desperation of someone who knows the entire deck is stacked against him. He's already lost. His best friend in the whole world is going to be sentenced to death for a murder he didn't commit. Literally his only hope left is that the judge will allow something this blatantly ridiculous to show the proof he needs. Of course he's scraping the bottom of the barrel of the utterly ridiculous. He has nothing left to lose.

It's so silly!

Phoenix just learned that the goody-two-shoes he was best friends with as a kid who suddenly disappeared did so because his dad died right in front of him and he was adopted by his dad's bitter rival, who is the actuality of all the horrible things the news said about the friend himself. This prosecutor is completely undefeated, both because he's ruthless and actually evil and because so many higher-ups in the legal system actively cover things up for him. This prosecutor is also horrifically cruel and has no doubt been psychologically abusing Phoenix's friend since he adopted him at about nine years old. Phoenix's friend is also fully convinced he killed his own father, which the prosecutor who raised him almost certainly actively encouraged him to believe. And that evil man has molded Phoenix's friend to be just like him for the past fifteen years, always intending to throw him to the wolves like this in the end.

It's... so... silly...

Oh, and even if Phoenix manages to completely prove his friend's innocence on both counts, there's still no actual winning in this scenario. Because either Edgeworth is right about deserving everything that's happened to him, or he has to confront that his entire life for the past fifteen years has been a lie, the man he idolized always planned to use the legal system to murder him by proxy, and even though he does value the truth above all else his entire career as a prosecutor has been built on unethical methods and contacts with people in high places who were either just as deceived by his mentor as he was or also bad people.

It genuinely is really silly though. You will laugh your ass off playing this game. It's just something that happens in between moments of crying.

the "almost christmas" meme really captures the essence of ace attorney, which is funney hijinks that just get absolutely heartbreaking so fast. do the non ace attorneys know. do they think we're just going apeshit over a Funney Moment. do they know that "almost christmas means it wasn't christmas" is the turning point, the turnabout, the first moment of hope after the closest phoenix ever comes to horrible and painful failure, after he very nearly failed to save the man he'd been trying to save for 15 years? do they know? do they know?

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Thirteen: [Panic Room]

Summary: Jakes darkest fears come to fruition when surgery doesn’t go as planned and the months to come bring a new reality he never saw coming.

Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion.

Word Count: 5.5k

Author Note: A big show of appreciation and love to @a-reader-and-a-writer (Vee) for constantly being ready and willing to help me with my writing. You have been the backbone I needed to get this done!

You guys will never know how much this series means to me. And in the same breath, you guys will never know how much your support truly means. Merry Christmas Eve Eve 2024 ya filthy animals.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Researchers say the average length of a dream is two to three minutes long. But many people experience their dreams as hours, days, or even years if they can remember them at all. 

The science of dreaming has been questioned for hundreds of years. Some hypothesise that dreams are our way of processing real events that occur when we’re awake. They also serve as an outlet for repressed hopes and desires. Neuroscientists introduce a new theory every few years. But honestly, no one knows why we dream. 

Or why we have nightmares. We just hope that after the dream, we wake up. 

“We’ve gone over all the risks, weighed up all the possible outcomes, dotted I’s and crossed T’s. Today is the day, Mrs. Seresin.” Doctor Morrison was hopeful in his consultation. The white coat-wearing man reassured you as he placed your chart back where it belonged. “How are you feeling?” 

The question went unanswered for a moment or two. You felt like you were in a state of shock. Unable to truly express how you felt just hours before going into what could be life-changing surgery. You were giving everyone in the room a thousand-yard stare. Mentally and physically, you had checked out. Like you’d been stuck in a nightmare that wouldn’t stop torturing you. 

“We had some bad news last night. A close friend passed away unexpectedly,” Jake answered on your behalf. “Is there any way–” 

“We need to do this now, Mr. Seresin, or we won’t be able to revisit this for a few months,” Dr. Morrison explained with an emphasis on the matter of now or never. “I understand personal circumstances may have changed. However, knowing everything you know about risk and recovery and survival rates after double mastectomies, I recommend we stick to the organised care plan.” 

“Can we have a moment alone?” Jake asked cautiously as his hand came to rest gently on your shoulder. You hadn’t moved from what could only be described as a catatonic-like state for the entire duration of the conversation. 

“Of course,” Dr. Morrison nodded. “I’ll come back after I’ve checked in on a few patients.” 

It didn’t take long at all for the oncology crew to exit the room. But the second they did, you felt like you could breathe again. 

“I can’t go through with this surgery Jake,” you begged. Fear of the unknown had taken over your entire being. “I can’t do this,” 

“You are the strongest person I know, honey, the kids and I really need you to do this.” Jake tried his best to comfort you as well as remind you why this surgery was so important. “We need you, yeah? We need you to stick around and this fucking cancer, this disease, is trying to cut that time short.” 

“But Jensen–” 

At the height of the Great Depression, Harvard scientists started tracking students in hopes of discovering the key to a long and happy life. They looked at participants’ mental and physical health over seventy-five years. It’s the longest study of happiness to date. Seventy-five years and all they did was confirm what we’ve known since the beginning of time. 

The most powerful predictor of health and happiness is the quality of our relationships. 

Strong relationships protect us. Loneliness on the other hand…can be deadly. 

“Would want you to keep fighting and have this surgery.” Jake could have said he thought Jensen was a coward. He could have said how angry he was at that fucker for leaving you alone in this world with no one to confide in who knew the struggle, who knew the feeling of being told you’re sick and need to get sicker in order to get better. 

Jake could have told you how he wished Jensen had survived so he could kill him himself. Jake could have responded with the fact Jensen was terminal and there was nothing on this earth that could have saved him from his illness. 

Jake could have told you that Jensen thought you hung the stars and the moon in the night sky every night just for him…but then Jake would also have to admit to himself and you that maybe, just maybe, you should have moved on. 

“What would he say right now if he was here?” Jake settled on that question just to keep himself sane. He didn’t want to open yet another can of worms right before your surgery. This was all one big giant nightmare already, he didn’t want to make it worse. If anything, Jake kept pinching himself in secret just hoping that maybe he’d wake up on the couch and this cancer saga would all be some sadistic subconscious dream of his. 

He’d always been deathly afraid of not being good enough for you. 

“He’d tell me to do it,” you sighed as you let your head rest against the upright bed. “He’d tell me to be strategic about the battle, the war is the endgame.” 

“Exactly, one battle at a time, step by step,” Jake agreed with a cheeky smile. That signature Seresin smile you so effortlessly loved. “You’re not gonna hand in the white flag before the battles even really begins, are you?” 

“Kinda want to if I’m being completely honest with you,” you responded knowing Jake would appreciate the honesty. “But I guess you and the kids really need me to stick around, huh?” 

“Oh, I can’t even begin to explain how much we need you to stick around, honeybee.” it was as honest and as sincere as Jake could be. He wore his heart on his sleeve for you. He exposed every nerve he had just so you could dance your feather-like fingers across the tender strings that made Jake, Jake. 

“I’m so scared of being alone in the operating room,” you admitted as Jake leaned in to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m so scared they won’t see me as a person,” It was an explanation that broke Jake’s heart even though he believed his heart couldn’t be broken any more. “That they won’t remember I’m me, that I have a life and a family and people who will miss me.” 

Over the course of our lives, our relationships ebb and flow. We get together, break up, move away, or fall out of touch. It’s prolonged periods of loneliness and toxicity that wreak havoc on our health, our brain function, and our longevity. 

“You’re never alone,” Jake replied softly as tears threatened to spill over his waterline. “I’m always with you, the kids are always with you, Jensen, your mum, everyone will be with you during that surgery, we’re gonna be waiting on the other side.” 

“I love you so much, Jake Seresin,” you smiled brightly through a tight-lipped smile Jake wished he could save in his mind’s eye forever. “Let’s win this battle.” 

“And the war too,” Jake replied as he reached for your hand, gave it a soft squeeze, and brought your palm to his lips. “Let’s fucking do this, Y/n.” 

*************************************

Jake sat waiting by the vending machine as he picked at the small single service-sized packet of original Lays he’d nearly had to beg the machine to drop. His watch told him it was almost nearing the end of your surgery. He wasn't stressed, not when your surgeon had been so hopeful and calming. Jake had spent far too much of his time recently worrying about the what-ifs. He wanted to focus on the now. And that now was the fact you would have been nearing the end of your surgery. Which meant soon enough he’d get to see you again. 

The only thing that kept Jake on his toes was the ever-looming doubt that perhaps the treatment plan wouldn't be enough. He hoped that you had enough fight in you to make it through the journey. He needed you to have enough strength to fight. 

“She should be coming out of surgery soon–” Jake explained as he held his phone up to his ear and tried not to chew so loud. “The kids know that Rooster is picking them up to bring them home to Grandma Maz’s house?” 

“Yeah, Mum’s not too happy about it but she won't keal over about it,” Jasmine replied as she watched her brother's kids play with hers in the backyard she and Jake used to make mud pies in. “Rooster messaged about an hour ago saying he was close, he shouldn't be too far away now.” Jas continued in her own little world. Jake was used to not being able to get a word in with his youngest sister. “I can't believe Y/n has fucking cancer–does her side of the family have a history or…?” 

“Not that we know of, it's just really bad luck, Jas,” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the wall his chair was pressed up against. “But hopefully with this surgery and the chemo, she’ll be able to beat it.” 

“Well, you tell her that I’m pissed she gets a boob job before I do,” Jasmine tried her best to keep the situation as light-hearted as possible. “Make sure she gets a good rack, not too small or too big, like a good handful that's just right.” 

“I'll be sure to let her know,” Jake smiled, he really could count on his sister for that. “Oh, I gotta go, I see Y/n’s surgeon.” Jake sat up in anticipation as anxiety flooded his nervous system. “Tell the kids we love them for me.” 

“Have been every day,” Jasmine replied quickly knowing her brother probably had his phone down from his ear by now. “Bye.” 

Jake was quick to pocket his phone and wipe the crumbs from his shirt as he stood to greet your surgeon. However, something seemed off about the man who had seemed so confident before your surgery. 

“Mr. Seresin–” 

“How is she?” Jake asked. He didn't mean to interrupt, but he needed to know first and foremost before any medical mumbo jumbo. “My wife, how’d the surgery go?” 

There was a very telling pause that accompanied the sober look that Doctor Morrison wore, but Jake tried not to read into it all that much. He knew you would be fine. 

Right? 

“Mr Seresin, your wife's heart was weakened by the stress of her recent stroke,” Doctor Morrison began to explain as Jake stood there expecting good news. “She, unfortunately, went into a cardiac arrest–” the air around Jake disappeared. Almost instantly, he felt as if he were floating in space. “We tried to revive her for the better half of twenty minutes while she was on the table,” There was a pause. A telling moment where reality and fantasy were trying to battle it out. Who’s version of events would win? When Doctor Morrison saw Jake’s mind short-circling with an inability to process the magnitude of information, he felt as if he needed to continue explaining the severity of the situation. 

“It was catastrophic, and I'm afraid we've lost her.” Doctor Morrison had told far too many loved ones over the years that they had lost family members, but never in all his years had he ever seen such immediate denial written in the lines on someone's face. “Mr. Seresin, your wife has died.” The words Doctor Morrison was saying were not sinking in as Jake stood there completely blind to the reality happening around him. “I’m so sorry for your loss–” 

“Uh–” Jake frowned as the confusion kicked in. “I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else. My wife was fine before she went in for surgery, she was fine.” 

“Yes, yes, your wife was fine, yes–” Doctor Morrison tried to keep his composure, but even after all these years the losses still hurt. It made him feel human to experience the emotions alongside the family members, but in the first few seconds of watching Jake Seresin spiral into a hole of denial that you were, in fact, gone, Doctor Morrison, knew this particular loss would haunt him for the rest of his career. 

Speaking slowly, Doctor Morisson tried once more to explain what had happened in a way that Jake would understand. “The stress of the surgery along with her recent stroke…her body just couldn't handle the stress. Her heart experienced a cardiac episode and we unfortunately couldn’t revive her.” 

The immediate silence between the two men was all-consuming as it was telling. Jake’s heart was breaking in two. 

“Is there someone I can call for you?” Doctor Morrison tried to be as empathetic as he could be, this part of the job was never easy. The part where he was tasked with telling loved ones that the people they loved had passed on his table. They were few and far between, but the people he did lose would forever haunt him. He could name every single one and their family’s name too. Jake Seresin would be a name Doctor Morrison would remember for the rest of his life and into the next. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Jake pushed back almost immediately as he tried to wrap his head around what he was being told. This didn’t make any sense, you were just here. You were fine. 

“No, Mr. Seresin I–” Doctor Morrison tried to explain again, but it was to no avail.

“I–Okay, I think you must be mistaken,” Jake wiped his hand on his jeans as he stepped back. “I just need to ge–”

“Mr. Seresin, please.” Doctor Morrison tried to stop Jake from leaving the waiting area, but Jake just stepped further back with a frown of disgust and grief. He was still holding his packet of Lays. 

“No, no can you just, can you back up?” Jake nearly growled. “Can you leave me alone?” Jake looked around as he tried to remember how to breathe. People were staring at him like he was in a zoo. A caged and cornered animal begging to be left alone. “Can somebody get this person to just give me some space please?” It was as heartbreaking as it was cruel to watch Jake walk down the hall towards where he knew your hospital room was. 

“Y/n?” He called out hoping you'd be back by now. “You won’t believe this guy, honey. He just–” The moment Jake rounded the corner and saw your hospital room empty with no sign of you, he stood still. All the air had been sucked right from his lungs as his eyes scanned the room. Your Christmas lights weren’t flashing, your bed wasn't made, and your laptop sat open with a black screen, but just where you’d left it. You weren't back. 

“Y/n?” Jake whispered under his breath as his eyes continued to scan the empty hospital room just waiting for you to appear from out of the bathroom or sneak up behind him. But Jake knew you weren't about to appear even though he wished for nothing more. 

“Oh–” One step, two steps, three steps, four. Jake didn't know where he was but he was on the move. He couldn't stay here looking at an empty room. He had to find where you were. “Oh god, no, no no no no no, please no don’t take her away from me.” 

“Jake!” The woman's voice Jake had come to know over the last few days broke through the fog that was clouding Jake's mind. He continued to stumble blindly down the ward. “I just heard,” Lydia explained as she rushed up to the man who she had come to know as your husband. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting this to happen. I thought–” Lydia quickly reacted when Jake's knees buckled underneath him. 

“Woah! I need a little help over here!” Doctor Morrison was quick on the draw as he made his way over to where Jake now kneeled on the floor unable to breathe. 

“My wife–” Jake tried to talk as he hyperventilated. “Y/n!” he cried out for all to hear. “Y/N!” 

“She's gone.” Doctor Morrison had to make sure the fact was sinking in. 

“Oh Jake, I’m so sorry–” Lydia tried to console the six-foot-something man who had crumbled to his knees. “Your wife was an amazing woman.” 

Jake still couldn't believe it, he didn't believe it, and he wouldn't. The pain he felt inside his chest, the burning hot sensation was excruciating. He’d never felt such a feeling of grief mixed with denial and so much love. You couldn’t be gone. He was having a nightmare, wasn’t he? This wasn't real. He was dreaming. This was all one big dream. It had to be. It had to be a nightmare his subconscious had concocted. A nightmare where Jake lost it all. His biggest fears were realised. 

“I need my wife, I need Y/n,” Jake sobbed as Lydia kneeled on the ground in front of him just assessing his current state of shock. “I can't, she can't–no no no she's fine, please tell me she's fine.” 

“I'm so sorry, Jake,” Lydia confirmed what Jake wished so desperately wasn’t true. “She’s gone,” Lydia’s voice became distorted as she held the broken man in her arms. “You need to wake up before it's too late.” 

************************

Bradley Bradshaw was accustomed to losing the people he loved the most in this world. He’d lost his father, his mother, and his grandparents. For a while there he’d lost the only man who had ever slightly filled the shoes his dad left behind. But the loss of someone who was still there was something he’d never had to handle before. 

“Nat, he hasn’t gotten out of bed in days,” Bradley groaned as he cleaned up the kitchen. “The kids already lost their mother,” Bradley tried his best to keep his voice down, but the way little Lennox clocked Bradley from where he was sitting at the dining table made him realise he wasn’t one to talk on the quiet side. “They don’t need to lose their dad too.”

Jake stood just outside of Bradley’s eyeline, but he could hear everything the giant overgrown bird was saying. He couldn’t hear what Phoenix was saying but there was enough back and forth on Bradley’s behalf to easily fill in the gaps. 

“No. No, he hasn’t been down since the funeral.” Jake forgot how to exhale at the mere mention of your funeral as he hid in the hall. He couldn’t remember ever getting ready or speaking at your wake. He couldn’t remember who drove them or if the kids cried. He couldn’t remember hugging your mother or shaking your brother’s hand. Jake couldn’t remember any details about the flowers he’d organised or the people who were there. 

The anti-depressants weren’t helping. Nothing was. Nothing would. 

Until today, Jake couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. Without you, there was no point. He was begrudgingly okay with living a life in a world where you were still in it. But living in a world where you were no longer present wasn’t something Jake was willing to do. The kids would be fine with their grandparents. They’d be fine with Uncle Rooster. Lennox and Lucy and little Sammy didn’t need him. How was he supposed to look into their eyes and know he could never see the twinkle in yours ever again? 

“I’m really worried about him, Nat,” Rooster sighed as he held his phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He was working on making little Samy some banana pancakes. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay here forever, but he needs someone.” 

“No one is asking you to babysit me, Bradshaw,” Jake replied to the statement Bradley wasn’t expecting an answer to. “You can leave, trust me, I can drop the kids off with my mum.” 

Bradley stood stunned into silence as he watched Jake round the corner and into vision. He reluctantly reached for his phone and hung up as Phoenix questioned what was going on. 

“Hey man,” Rooster finally broke the silence as he watched Jake walk closer and closer to where Sammy sat in his high chair. “How you feeling today?” 

“Well, my wife’s still dead, so that’s something,” Jake replied with a sigh as he picked up Sammy and placed him on his lap. Lennox could see the look of pure admiration in his younger brother’s eyes as Jake hugged the smallest of the Seresin kids. “Seriously, you’ve done enough for us, I got it from here.” It was the biggest lie Jake had ever tried to tell not only himself but his best friend. 

“Uh,” Bradley wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? I mean–I wanna stay as long as you need man,” Bradley tried to plead his case as Jake went about his business with Sammy. The business being nothing. Jake stood somewhat dazed and lost in the middle of the clean-ish kitchen. A kitchen he knew where nothing was. It wasn’t his. It was yours. 

“I think the kids should come back to North Island with me,” Jake opted to ignore what Bradley was saying. Instead, he decided to continue with a vague plan for what the future holds. A future he didn’t want to have with you. A future he didn’t care about. 

“You want the kids to uproot everything they know?” Rooster frowned as he looked over to where Lenny sat watching on. The kids were down, to say the least. Bradley could recognise himself in the permanent pout that had taken shape across Lennox’s face. The puffy eyes and saddened expression really tied the whole look of mourning together. They were just kids, they didn’t deserve any of this. “I don’t think you should be thinking about coming back to work anything soon either.” 

“I don’t need you micromanaging me,” Jake hissed as he held onto his youngest son, all the while his eldest watched on with concern for his dad. “I need you to go home, Rooster, we’ve got it from here.” 

“You don’t got anything, Seresin. Are you kidding me right now?” Bradley didn’t mean to come across as so defensive. But he’d seen Jake in this grief-fueled spiral long enough to know that his destructive and depressive mindset would end up causing more distress for the kids than intended. Jake was a good dad, that had never been questioned. Until now… Bradley wasn’t sure if his best friend could handle parenting three small children without a village to back him up. “The kids haven’t seen you in days–” 

“Would you rather them see me at my worst or not see me at all?” Jake’s grief was eating away at him. So much so that Jake began to wish each time he closed his eyes he’d get to stay with the version of you his mind had envisioned. “I’m fine, I’ve got it from here,” Jake sighed as he hugged little Sammy with all the strength that he had. “I wasn’t, but I’m fine now and I just wanna spend time with the kids.” 

“I don’t believe a word you’re saying right now man,” Bradley replied as he caught sight of Lucy coming down the hall. She’d been sleeping much like her father was. Great, all three Seresin children were present for their father’s impending breakdown. 

“Get the fuck out of my house, Bradshaw.” This hadn’t been the first confrontation Jake and Bradley had gotten into while Bradley had been staying in Rhode Island as the Seresin kid’s personal live-in nanny. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was becoming an almost everyday occurrence. The only difference this time was the kids were here to witness it. “I don’t need you here–”

“You aren’t thinking straight, just–how about the kids and I go for a walk or something and you sort yourself out? Have a shower? Shave? Drink something other than alcohol for–” Before Rooster could finish his sentence, Jake was placing Sam on the kitchen floor with a haste that didn’t sit right with Rooster. Lennox was the first to move from his chair. He was the spitting image of his father. 

“I don’t fucking care, Rooster!” Jake shouted at the top of his lungs. So loud and with such rage that the veins in his neck were popping as his skin turned a nice shade of ruby red. He took fast strides across the kitchen until Jake was standing toe to toe with his best friend. The very friend who’d been taking care of his children since before your passing. “I have to live the rest of my fucking live without the woman I love, so, cut me some godman slack before I knock your smug ass head from your shoulders.” 

Bradley didn’t move. He didn’t retaliate. He watched over Jake’s shoulder how his three children all cowered on the kitchen floor, scared of how their father yelled. Jake was oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn’t see the kids were struggling too. 

“Jake?” Bradley sighed as he placed his hands on either side of Jake’s face. “When the fuck are you gonna get through all this?” Braley asked softly as he remained calm. “When are you gonna wake up?” 

“Wake up?” Jake repeated as he pulled his face from his best friend's grip. “Wake up? Bradshaw, I died with my wife! There is no waking up from any of this!” 

“Maybe–” Bradley shrugged as he walked over to where the kids had been huddled together. It was only as Jake followed Bradley’s trajectory that he realised how much he’d scared his children. Something he never wanted to do. “There's always hope though.” 

“Kids,” Jake sighed as his tears began to fall. He dropped to his knees right then and there in the kitchen he wasn't familiar with. In a house that was now cold and dark without your constant radiating light to keep it warm and bright. “Guys, I'm sorry, huh–Dad didn't mean to raise his voice, he’s just–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, little Lennox was finishing his father’s sentence for him. 

“You’re just sick, dad.” 

“What?” Jake frowned as the kids made their way over to where Jake was kneeling on the tiles. 

“I said you’re just sad, Dad,” Lennox replied once more as he gave his dad a hug. “We’ll take care of you.” 

************************

December 31st 

Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry. 

Things had changed since Jake fell mind, body and soul into an unimaginably deep hole of depression. So much so that days had become to feel like one long dream. A paradox of grief and manic love. Your mother had told Jake to feel every ounce of emotion he had locked away. Maz had told him that grief was just someone’s residual love with nowhere else to go. 

Once Jake was able to understand that the pain of losing you was his love for you, he understood why it hurt so deeply on a cellular level. He understood why it hurt to look at the children he’d created with you. He understood why the kids had wanted to sit and open the small, still-wrapped Christmas present Lenny had found in Jake’s bag when he was looking for his dad’s wallet. 

Because it was one of the last things you ever gifted someone. It was one of your last acts on earth. 

“What did Mum get you for Christmas, Daddy?” Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable. 

“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would. 

“We haven’t taken the tree down yet,” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it, Dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it. 

“Alright, I’d better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest. 

Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it. 

“Hey, Dad?” Lucy’s voice sounded completely different to anything Jake had ever heard before. She was looking right at him yet her eyes were trained on something one hundred miles away. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Jake replied just as he was about to open the present you’d given him before his life was turned upside down. 

“You need to wake up now,” Lucy’s voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t her own. “You’ve had enough time here,” 

“What are you talking about Lu?” Jake frowned as he looked at his daughter. An extension of himself and you. “Lucy? Are you feeling okay?” 

“You’ll be a good dad soon,” Lucy smiled as she unwrapped the small ring box in Jake’s hand. The ring box that held what Jake assumed to be your engagement ring. But as little Lucy opened the wrapping, a blinding light burst through the cracks. A light so bright it forced Jake to squint. 

“Please wake up, honey,” Jake heard your voice clear as day as Lucy opened the ring box to send a piercing white light into the living room. Jake was completely captured by the light around him. So much so the entire room was drowned in a light so pure it was crystal clear. He couldn’t see a single thing beyond the all-encompassing white. 

“Please wake up for us,” again your voice was the only thing Jake could hear in the void he found himself in. 

“Y/n?” Jake called out into the void around him. He could feel his ribcage breaking like he couldn't breathe. Every breath he took was agony. “Hello?” Yet he could hear your voice. A voice he longed for. A voice he had to get back to. Jake had to get to you. 

“I’m here, you’re alright,” Jake once again heard your angelic siren song. His head began to throb. The feeling was agonising. Like there was no more room for swelling. 

“Where are you?” Jake called out as he stumbled in the light. The smell of burning flesh mixed with jet fuel overcame Jake’s senses. His need to get to you was more powerful than the deep bone ache he could feel in his legs. There was nothing on earth or beyond that would stop Jake from getting to wherever the hell you were calling him from. His entire body ached with a pain so unimaginable it sent him to his knees. Crawling, Jake cried out for you just one more time. 

“Y/n!?” Jake called out once more in a desperate attempt to find you in the void. “Kids?” 

“Here he comes,” Bradley’s voice echoed out as Jake looked up towards where he assumed the sky would be. The glare was too much. Jake placed his forearms over his forehead to soften the brightness. “Come on Hangman, don't leave us out to dry.” 

Some people spend their whole lives trying to make a dream come true. They set a goal and make a plan on how to achieve it. It works for some people. But for others, it’s not so easy. As hard as they work toward the dream, it can feel like the whole world has plotted against them. 

As someone gets further and further away from the dream, people begin to cling to any sign of hope. And the longer it takes and the more it costs…you start to consider whether you should give up. Do you find a new dream? Or do you stick to the one that started you on this journey in the first place? 

For Jake, things weren’t as black and white. 

As Jake closed his eyes and took one painful last breath in, he felt as if he’d fallen from cloud nine. When he opened his eyes, the light was still there….But he wasn’t.

Jake’s eyelids fluttered, the faintest hint of light creeping through the haze of his mind. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign as if it wasn’t entirely his own. The weight of unconsciousness clung to him, reluctant to release its hold. Slowly, he became aware of the sounds around him—

“Jake, It’s me, can you hear me?”

**********************

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream

@maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional

@jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

@the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989 @avengersgirllorianna

[lovie-bugzz]

goodnight ┊sirius black

pairing - bsf!sirius x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - You wake up from a nightmare, not being able to sleep. So you go to your best friend Sirius for comfort. Still not being able to sleep, Sirius claims he knows the perfect way to get you to sleep…

contains - smut, soft dom!Sirius, swearing, fingering, female orgasm, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial(sort of)

word count - 4627

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

I woke up with a start, shooting up in my bed with a gasp, my eyes shooting open as I panted heavily. My heart was racing, my body was sweating profusely, and I was shaking.

I haven’t had a nightmare this bad since I was a kid, but recently they’ve been happening more frequently as the wizarding war gets more intense. Seeing the terrifying and awful things that are happening in the world written on the daily prophet everyday has taken a toll on me.

I was scared all the time. It felt like all it took was one wrong move and my friends and I would be gone, just like that.

Once I steadied my heartbeat, I laid back down, letting out a sigh. I closed my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see were flashes from my nightmare, all of my friends dying at the hands of the dark lord.

I sat up once more, thinking for a moment before getting out of bed, grabbing my wand, and leaving my dorm. I quickly but quietly walked down the girls dormitory stairs, and went up the boys stairs.

I found myself standing in front of the marauders dorm, after a moment I pointed my wand at the doorknob and whispered, “Alohomora.” before twisting the handle and walking in.

I was sort of surprised to see all of the boys sound asleep since usually they'd be up causing mischief, so I carefully closed and locked the door behind me.

I tiptoed over to Sirius’ bed, chuckling quietly to myself as I peaked through his curtains and saw his sleeping position. His black hair wildly strewn across his face, while he held tightly onto one of his pillows, soft snores falling from his lips.

I admired him for a moment longer before moving the curtain aside so I could reach down and nudge his shoulder. “Sirius… Sirius…” I whispered.

The boy let out a soft grumble as he stirred a bit, before his eyelids slowly fluttered open, his sleepy gaze landing on me standing over him. His brows furrowed as he let out a yawn, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from just waking up.

“I… I had a nightmare. I can't get back to sleep.” I told him, shifting on my feet. Sirius was the only person who knew about my nightmares, though I never spoke in detail about them, which he respected.

His sleepy expression softened when he heard my words, concern etched onto his face as he studied my expression. He had been worried about me ever since my nightmares started. Sirius sat up fully and pushed the blankets off of him, “C'mere.” He said, patting the spot next to him on the bed for me.

I smiled gratefully and instantly slipped through his curtains, and crawled under his covers, curling into his bare chest. “Thank you…” I whispered to him as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side.

He hummed in response, wrapping his other arm around me as well and holding me tightly against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. He pressed a delicate kiss to the top of my head while one of his hands started gently rubbing my back.

"No need to thank me, darling." He whispered softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily.

I felt so safe in his arms, it's been a while since we've had a sleepover together, the last time was probably in our 3rd year, which was 3 years ago as now we are in 6th year. I let out a deep breath against his chest, feeling calmer now that I was in his arms.

Sirius smiled against my hair, he knew how much I loved and craved physical affection, especially in times like these where I was upset. He started tracing patterns along my back with his fingers, enjoying the feeling of having me in his arms again after a while.

"I missed this…" He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded my head against him with a small content smile on my face, as I mumbled, “Yeah… me too.”

He hummed softly as he continued tracing patterns on my back, occasionally moving up to run his fingers through my hair. He looked down at me, noticing how tired I looked, and pressed another kiss to the top of my head before speaking up again. "You can try and sleep if you want, darling. I'm right here."

A small yawn left my lips, as I realized how exhausted I truly was, "Okay..." I spoke, letting my eyes close as I tried to fall asleep with Sirius still holding me close.

About 5 minutes had passed, and I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't sure exactly why, as I was so tired, but my brain wouldn't turn off. I let out a huff as my eyes opened again, my brows furrowed in frustration as all I wanted was a good night's rest.

Sirius noticed how tense my body was against his, meaning that I wasn't asleep yet. He could tell that I was frustrated and probably annoyed that I couldn't sleep. He stopped tracing patterns on my back and moved his hand to gently grip my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Your mind is racing, isn't it?"

I nodded in response, rolling the smallest bit out of his arms and onto my back, making his hand fall from my chin. My gaze was fixed on the ceiling as I chewed on my bottom lip, something I did when I was frustrated.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at me as he propped himself up on his elbow looking down at me. "Hey, don't do that." He said, using his other hand to gently take my lip out from between my teeth with his thumb and index finger.

My head turned to the side to look at him as he freed my lip, I gave him a small smile before sighing, "I just want to be able to sleep. This is so annoying."

My words gave Sirius an idea. He knew how to get people to go to sleep, girls specifically. It was sort of his specialty. A mind blowing orgasm or two would do it. But he had never done that with me, I was his best friend, but at the same time, he knew how much I needed rest, and this was the only way he knew how to help me.

Sirius debated in his head for a moment, if he should really do what he had in mind, for a second he almost thought it was ridiculous, but then he looked at me. He looked at how tired I was and how frustrated I seemed. That's when he decided to do it, besides it didn't have to mean anything, it was just one friend helping another.

I furrowed my brows as I watched the grin grow on his face, and just before I could question him, he leaned closer to me and whispered, "I think I know just the thing to help you sleep, darling." He said in a soft yet suggestive tone.

My cheeks turned a soft pink as he used that tone of voice on me, I knew that tone. It was the same tone he always used when he tried to seduce girls.

"What are you-" I started, but before I could finish he cut me off by slowly placing a hand on my hip and gently tugging me closer to him.

He smirked as he saw the confused and curious look on my face. He then leaned in closer to the point where his breath was hitting my ear and spoke in a low tone, so only I could hear. "Would you like me to show you?"

His tone of voice and the way his breath wafted over my ear made a shiver run down my spine, my breath catching in my throat. "Sirius..." I whispered out, gulping before continuing. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Sirius' smirk only widened as he noticed how flustered I got by his subtle actions and the way my voice was shaking. His hand on my hip tightened a bit. He gently nipped at my earlobe before responding, his voice was still low and seductive as he spoke.

"I think it's the only idea, darling. You need to relax and get some rest, and I know just the way to do that." He said, his hand slowly moving from my hip to my thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

I gently bit my lip again, but this time to make sure any noises didn't slip out. He was turning me on, I could already feel the wetness seeping into my panties. But still, I had doubts, no matter how much I needed it.

"What if the boys hear?" I asked, but Sirius was already pulling his wand out from under his pillow and pointing it towards his bed curtains. He quickly muttered the silencing spell, "Muffliato."

He smirked as he looked back at me, placing his wand back under his pillow, I let out a shaky breath as his hand returned to my thigh, "There. They won't hear a thing." He told me, his voice now a little smug as he continued to tease you, before his face softened, "Just say the word, and I'll stop." He spoke, looking deep into my eyes to make sure I knew he was serious.

Now I wasn't an idiot, I knew all about Sirius' sexual escapades. How could I not? He bragged about them all the time, and from the stories I've heard from all the girls he's been with, I knew he was incredible in bed. With that knowledge mixed with my desperate need to get some sleep, I didn't have the strength in me to say no, so instead the words that came out of my mouth were, "Don't stop."

Sirius let out a satisfied hum as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, as he heard those words leave my mouth. His hand on my thigh traveled further up, slowly making its way in between my legs, stopping when his fingers were pressed against my covered core, making my breath hitch once again.

"Good girl." Sirius mumbled softly before leaning in closer, his mouth now directly next to my ear again. "Just relax and let me take care of you, darling." He whispered into my ear, nipping at it once again before pulling away and placing a light kiss on my neck, his other hand that wasn't between my legs moving to gently grip my chin, tilting my head back a bit.

A small whimper fell from my lips, and in one quick movement, Sirius had pushed me down so my back was against the bed, while he hovered over me, his lips still attached to my neck. After a moment, he pulled away, moving both his hands to the waistband of my shorts, but he stayed like that, not moving as he questioned me with his eyes.

I gave him a short nod, but it seemed Sirius wanted more, "Words, darling. I need words." He said in a low voice, making me squirm a bit. I gulped, before speaking, "Take them off."

Sirius smirked once again, obviously loving the effect he had on me. It made his ego grow. "As you wish, darling." He responded, before slowly tugging my shorts down my legs and placing them to the side. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he stared down at me, before leaning back down to hover above me.

His lips reattached to my neck, now lightly nipping at the skin, occasionally letting out a soft growl against my skin when he found a sensitive spot that made me let out a soft sound. One of his hands slowly pulled up my shirt, his hand occasionally slipping under it to gently run his fingers over my stomach, while his other hand went back to its spot between my legs, now starting to rub small circles over my clit through my panties, making me whine in pleasure.

Sirius continued his assault on my neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to soothe over the spots that he nipped leaving small purple marks that would have to be covered up tomorrow, but right now he didn't care.

His attention was focused on finding the spots that made me whimper and whine, and once he did, he would make sure to keep his mouth in that spot as long as possible, all while his other hand continued to tease me through my panties in the most torturous way. He was enjoying every single noise that was escaping me, loving the way I was squirming and wriggling underneath him.

"You make such beautiful sounds, darling." He whispered against my skin, his lips trailing down to my collarbone as he moved my panties to the side. The boy chuckled when he felt me shiver underneath his touch.

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt the delicate touch of his finger against my soaking wet folds. "S-Sirius..." I whimpered out, as he pulled his head back to look down at me. My face was blushed, my breath coming in pants, I was already a mess.

"You’re so wet for me already.” he spoke, and as if to prove a point he let his middle finger slip right inside me, making me gasp in both pleasure and shock. He smirked down at me as he took his finger back out, spreading my slick around my folds.

My head lolled back against the pillow as more whimpers fell from my mouth. I don't think I had ever been this turned on and desperate in my life. What was even more shocking was the fact that Sirius Black, my best friend, was doing this to me, he was making me feel like this.

When Sirius saw my head fall back against the pillow, he gently grabbed my chin with his free hand and tilted my head up so my eyes locked onto his, his smirk only growing wider when he saw how flushed and desperate I looked. "Look at me." He said, his gaze was dark, full of lust while his finger dropped to my entrance again to collect more of my wetness, before trailing up to my bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight circles.

His words combined with his actions made me let out a moan as I struggled to keep my gaze on him. "Shh, I know, darling." He mumbled, as his finger continued its slow, torturous pace on my clit, wanting to drive me insane before any sort of relief. "Look at you, already trembling and whining for me, and I've barely even touched you."

He was right, I was trembling, my breaths coming in pants as my heart thundered against my chest. I was so desperate, all I wanted was a release, but he was taking his time with me. "Sirius... Please." I whimpered, looking up at him.

His dick was throbbing against his pants, straining against the material and begging for attention as he watched me squirming and moaning at his touch. But for once in his life he didn’t feel the need to give himself pleasure, tonight was about me and me only. "You want it, don’t you?" he asked, leaning down and placing a kiss against my cheek while his finger picked up its pace the smallest bit, "You want my fingers inside you?” He breathed out in question.

I let out a shaky moan as I felt him kiss my cheek and spoke to me in that low sultry voice. He was driving me insane, his words and his actions making my eyes roll back in my head, "Y-Yes." I responded, my voice was trembling as I could barely speak from the way I was shaking with pleasure. I moved my head to the side, my cheeks flushed red as I met his gaze again. I could tell that this was affecting him too, but he was being surprisingly selfless tonight.

The look on my face and the tone of my voice made his smirk grow even wider, his breathing becoming a bit unsteady the more he watched me squirm and moan from his touches.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip, before leaning down closer so our faces were mere inches away from each other. "You look absolutely beautiful like this..." he mumbled, which made my stomach clench and my face flush. After a moment, he pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it up to my mouth, tracing my lips with it, before whispering, "Open your mouth for me."

I did as he said, parting my lips just enough for his finger to slip in, and I wrapped my lips around it, swirling my tongue as I tasted myself. Sirius let out a shaky breath as he watched me, a small groan leaving his mouth, "Fuck..." He practically growled as he removed his finger from my mouth.

Sirius leaned back down and started to place kisses down my neck as he whispered in my ears, the low tone of his voice making me shiver under him once again. "Such a good girl, following instructions so nicely." He mumbled, the smirk never leaving his face as he gently nipped at my skin.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me right now, darling." he mumbled, his finger trailing back down my body, "But right now it's about you, and only you. Understood? Tonight is only about your pleasure."

I bit my lip, nodding my head in response as I didn't think I'd even be able to form any words at the moment. Sirius smirked at me, muttering a small, "Good." and before I could even say or do anything, he slipped two fingers inside of me, pumping them at a slow speed making me moan out.

"You're so tight, darling." he mumbled, as he picked up the pace just the smallest bit, loving the look on my face as I moaned in response. It wasn't rare to see a girl like this for him, so desperate and needy, falling apart for him, but the fact that it was me only made it even more special, but he kept that to himself. He was only doing this to help me sleep, right? He shook the thought off before it could develop further, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind in favor of paying attention to my pleasure.

"Fuck, Sirius..." I moaned out, as he picked up his pace even more, while simultaneously circling his thumb around my clit. The feeling made my eyes roll back in my head as my hands searched around me for something to grip onto, only finding the bedsheets below me, trying to ground myself in some way as my body trembled from his touch.

"Yeah? You like your best friend's fingers?" He teased as he pumped his digits even faster, his gaze focused on my pleasure filled face. I unconsciously clenched around him from his dirty words, the action making him let out a low growl. "Answer me." He spoke, his voice husky as his fingers reached deeper inside of me, brushing right up against my g-spot.

I let out a guttural moan, "Yes! Yes, I love it!" I moaned out, feeling myself getting closer to my release, and I was sure he could tell too, with the way I was constantly squeezing around his fingers.

His smirk only grew, he was growing obsessed with hearing me moan out what he wanted to hear. If there was anything Sirius Black loved it was praise, hearing a girl tell him how good he was making her feel. But once again he had to try and shake off the weird feelings he was getting from all this. I was his best friend, but for some reason it seemed to feel like much more than that. Sirius looked down at me, watching my expression change as I grew closer and closer to my release, but he was nowhere near being done with me. He wanted to see how much he could push me.

His pace picked up, now going at such a speed that my breath was coming out in pants and my vision was going blurry, and I was so close, right on the edge of my release. Right when I was about to cum, Sirius slowed down to an achingly slow pace, his smirk growing wider as he saw the look on my face. He knew how desperate I was, he knew what I wanted.

He kept up his slow pace, his thumb gently rubbing against my clit every so often, but never enough to send me over the edge. "Come on, Sirius." I whined out, my hips squirming as I tried to make him go faster again.

"Ah, ah." He said, using his free hand to lightly grip my hip, stopping me from moving while keeping his fingers moving at their unbearably slow pace, "Patience darling. Don't be greedy." He spoke, his voice was smug, seeing the desperation on my face, knowing what I wanted, but not giving it to me just yet. He was enjoying torturing me like this, the control he had over my pleasure.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he knew it was driving me crazy. I let out a frustrated groan as he continued to move his fingers at a snail's pace, my hips trying to move but his hand on my hip stopped me from doing so. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need, silently begging him to let me cum.

Seeing the look on my face, made his heart flutter and his stomach clench. He'd never been this affected by a girl before, well at least not that he could remember. He was starting to wonder if this was a good idea, but before he could think about it too hard, one of his fingers curled up against my g-spot and his pace picked up speed. Not too much, but it was enough to send my eyes rolling back in my head, and a loud moan tore from my throat.

The sound of your moan sent a jolt straight to his cock, making him bite back a moan of his own. His eyes never left your face as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, watching your expressions change with every single touch, committing them to memory.

Still being sensitive from my stolen orgasm, it didn't take long for me to get close again. I couldn't hold back any of the moans leaving my mouth, my body was tingling with pleasure and need for release.

Sirius watched as you grew more and more desperate, and as you approached your orgasm again, he started to pick up the pace of his fingers once more. He knew you wouldn't last long this time, not after what he had just done to you.

"Are you close, darling?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he spoke into your ear. His thumb moved faster over your clit as he curled his fingers inside you.

"Yes. Yes! Please let me cum." I moaned out, practically pleading with him as I neared the edge.

His smirk only grew wider at that, he loved seeing me begging for him, begging for my release, it only fueled his ego even more. "Go on then, darling. Cum for me." he practically growled out, as his fingers moved even faster, hitting all the right spots inside me.

And once his words registered in my brain, I did, my back arching off the bed as a series of sounds left my mouth, a mix of his name and curses. My entire body shook in pure ecstasy, my vision going white for a moment as I came, hard, my legs trembling as I tried to process the intense feeling.

The look on Sirius' face was satisfied as he watched, his heart racing from seeing me get so lost in pleasure that he was giving me. His eyes were fixed on my face, taking in every single expression, every single twitch and every single moan. He was growing obsessed, watching me fall apart from his touch, he didn't understand why he was having these thoughts and feelings, and for once, Sirius Black wasn't in control of himself.

In one swift movement, he leaned down and captured my lips with his in a heated kiss, swallowing all of my moans as his fingers worked me through my orgasm. His eyes were shut tightly as his lips moved against mine, he was completely lost in the kiss, his fingers continuing to move inside me as my body trembled under his touch.

The kiss was messy and completely intoxicating, neither of us seemed to want it to end anytime soon. Sirius felt something inside him start to stir as he kissed me, something that he didn't quite understand, but he wasn't thinking properly enough to question what it was.

After another moment, he forced himself to pull his lips away from mine, but his fingers didn't stop, he only slowed down before eventually stopping, watching as I whimpered and trembled under him from the aftershocks of my orgasm. "You're so beautiful like this." he whispered, his voice soft as he pulled me into his arms.

I was still shaking as he pulled me into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I attempted to steady my breathing and slow my thudding heart. Everything was still sort of blurry from the intensity of the orgasm he had given me, I was sure this was the most powerful one I had ever experienced. "You're not so bad yourself..." I mumbled against his skin, my voice weak and shaky.

He chuckled lightly and planted a gentle kiss on top of my head, a small smirk still on his face as he thought about everything that just happened. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

He laid there with me in his arms, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room. Sirius was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he just made his best friend cum. His best friend, who he was so close with that they practically knew everything about each other, who he had never even looked at in a sexual way before.

I stayed pressed up against his chest, my eyes slowly started to flutter closed as my body relaxed against him. His heartbeat was steady and soothing next to my ear, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed helped to slowly calm my own frantic breathing. Soon I felt the exhaustion start to hit me, my body completely spent from everything that just happened.

Sirius smiled a little as he felt my body slowly go slack against him, my breaths becoming deep and even as I began to fall asleep. He held me close to him, continuing to place soft kisses on top of my head. He still had a million questions in his head about everything that had just happened, but his mind was too foggy from exhaustion to properly process all of them. After a moment he spoke, his voice soft and quiet.

"Goodnight, darling."

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

[headspace-hotel]

Thoughtful selective breeding is obviously part of agriculture with both plants and animals. It is the responsible thing to do to not breed animals with known genetic diseases. Is this the same thing as eugenics in humans? After all, the same thing was suggested with humans that have genetic diseases.

I say that it is not, but before discussing that, I also say that most things eugenicists were concerned with, were not completely genetically determined, or genetically determined at all. Out of the things that were actually genetically determined, it was usually because of too many different genes for selection to be possible, and out of traits that did have simplistic associations with genes, it was arbitrary and biased to judge them as "good" or bad" traits.

The eugenics movement happened before we knew what DNA was. The exact mechanisms of how heredity worked were unknown. It was not possible to link a trait to a certain gene that could be detected in a person's DNA.

Eugenicists thought entire individuals were inferior or superior to others, and thought that an "inferior" individual would produce "inferior" children. In reality, children inherit thousands of distinct genes that each may or may not be expressed based upon the impacts of other genes and environmental factors. If genes truly were either "good" or "bad," each individual would have a combination of "good" and "bad" genes. But it would be impossible to tell by looking at outward characteristics whether an individual had certain "good" or "bad" genes, because not all of the genes would be expressed.

Even worse, if you selected an elite group of individuals you thought had "good" genes and made them reproduce only within themselves, "bad" genes you didn't know about would begin expressing, due to the gene pool becoming more similar. A smaller gene pool makes it more likely to inherit two copies of the same gene. With recessive genes, they are only expressed when there are two copies, meaning that generations of individuals can have ("carry") the gene without ever showing any effects. Until suddenly, two carriers have a child and that child happens to inherit the recessive copy from both parents, and out of nowhere, the gene starts having an effect. A lot of genetic diseases are like this.

(In this way, eugenics type thinking ironically contributes to genetic diseases, by assuming that restricted gene pools of only individuals that appear "superior" will reliably create offspring expressing the same "superior" traits.)

Of course, in all except a few scenarios (a high chance of breast cancer is probably bad), genes aren't inherently good or bad at all. Let's say you decided that tall people were genetically superior, and organized a club for tall people to get together and have tall kids. If you did this for generations and generations, your descendants might be able to become consistently extremely tall, but you would probably also find that being extremely tall could have negative effects in many situations. Tallness might be genetically linked to some positive things, but it would be just as likely to be genetically linked to negative things. If the tall people club was restricted from having children with people outside the club, eventually you would likely see a high incidence of genetic diseases being expressed due to inbreeding.

Animal breeding has been going on for millennia, but the preoccupation with "pure" breeds is much newer. Inbreeding has been practiced widely in development of breeds because that is basically the only way to quickly make sure the traits you want are consistently expressed in the offspring, but since there is no such thing as a "superior" animal, it's also a good way to accidentally perpetuate "bad" traits (such as a high risk of cancer) throughout an entire gene pool.

There is also the fact that whether genes are "good" or "bad" usually depends on the situation. There has been a MASSIVE loss of genetic diversity among livestock since the beginning of industrial farming, and this has been very bad because whenever something changes about farming--whether it's a new disease popping up, effects of climate change, or improved practices--genes that are helpful in the new state of affairs are hard to find, because so much diversity has been eliminated. You just don't know what impact a gene might have in the future. Imagine some kind of new virus emerges that cattle with a certain gene are particularly susceptible to. If your herd is genetically diverse, the incidence of the gene might be small, so you might only lose one or two cows. But if your herd is genetically similar, you might be losing half of your herd. Five minutes ago, those cows were the "best" cows! Not anymore.

Imagine how much more complicated it is with humans! Even within our lifetimes, different body types have become fashionable and "ideal" and different personality traits have become favored for the workplace. And we still haven't cracked the genetic basis of body type or personality, let alone the array of environmental factors that might contribute.

Ultimately the problem of eugenics is assuming that any entity "knows better" about whether someone should pass on their genes than the person themselves. Humans have the ability to understand genetic diseases and heredity for themselves, and choose to have children or not based upon their own judgment. Furthermore, humans have the ability to communicate their needs to other humans, understand disability in themselves and others, and care for disabled members of their own species, therefore optimal quality of life is possible.

It is hard to apply the concept of personal choice to other animals, since we can't give animals education on what actions can lead to or prevent reproduction or the ability to exercise choice in whether to reproduce. The reproductive biology of many of our domesticated species is such that they have an estrus cycle where they are driven to mate during the period of time when fertilization is possible. Humans do not have an estrus cycle and can engage or not engage in sex regardless of fertility. It is not a very good comparison.

I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit

Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"

well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs

like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive

Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well

[hyunebunx]

maybe it's not our fault - chapter 03

── synopsis: after a nasty breakup that’s left you completely shattered, you’re set on giving up on love forever. That is until, in a surprising turn of events, your respective best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace in your broken relationship. Will their plan succeed? Will they manage to play cupid and get you and your high school sweetheart back together, or will it all backfire and result in the end of their own love story?

There is only one way to find out. If only your beloved’s heart wasn’t already broken beyond repair…

╰─▸ ❝ pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

╰─▸ ❝ content: exes to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, suggestive themes, drama and heartbreak, jock!hyunjin who is captain of the uni's football team + dance major!hyunjin, college au, lack of communication.

╰─▸ ❝ word count: 16k

╰─▸ ❝ warnings: a lot of cursing, sex jokes, mentions of a threesome, arguments, hyunjin's angry 80% of this chapter.

a/n: this chapter is super long but i swear it doesn't feel like much fhdhhfgh. we have flashbacks, kissing, drama and angst <3 y/n thinks of hyunjin for the majority of the chapter lmao. i've been waiting for soo long to reveal everything that's happening here, so pls enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3<3<3

One year ago.

“Hwang! Out!”

Out of frustration, Hyunjin removes his helmet and throws it on the ground with such force that it almost ricochets back into his hand, grass debris flying up and staining his white uniform pants. He takes a moment to calm down amid the craziness of the game, running a hand through short, black hair as the coach continues yelling at him from afar.

Frozen on the spot, Hyunjin pauses a minute more, chest heaving from the effort while sweat clouds his vision, barely reacting as his teammate, the other quarterback passes by him and pats his back.

Concerned, you hurry down the steps, almost crashing into the short fence that separates the field from the audience, searching for his eyes. You want to call out, but he seems to snap out of it on his own, legs leading him back to the coach on autopilot.

“Hyun…” You lean over the fence, trying to understand what the older man is telling him, heart squeezing painfully in your chest as worry overwhelms you.

A little further away, Hyunjin has his head hung low as the coach scolds him, screaming in his face about what just transpired on the field. American football was an aggressive sport, one you never saw Hyunjin getting roped into. Your boyfriend was soft and gentle, all smiles and crinkled eyes – you never understood where this desire came from, seemingly sprouting out of nowhere.

He was an athletic guy, but artistic, dedicating most of his time to dancing and painting, with the casual swimming lesson here and then. So, when he suddenly told you, in your freshman year of university, that he was thinking of trying out for the football team, you were surprised.

Hyunjin has loved football for as long as you can remember. He was an excellent player, an asset for your high school’s football team for the two years he spent playing on it. But he never took it too seriously, looking at it as a means to destress and have fun with his friends, one of these sports he became fond of as a kid.

You never thought he’d go through with it, but he always loved surprising you. Not only did he do it, he even made it to captain in his first year, thanks to his great skills and leadership abilities.

Since then, Hyunjin’s plate has always been overflowing, barely juggling all his hobbies while remaining top of his class. One thing always had to suffer, get the short end of the stick and the least of his attention. Sometimes it was his grades, then his dancing, while other times he’d barely touch a pencil for months on end.

But never you. Your relationship never changed, no matter how busy or exhausted he was, Hyunjin put loving you on the pedestal he carried on his shoulders daily.

At last, the scolding ends, and with a forceful pat on his shoulder pads, the coach walks away and leaves your boyfriend stranded, benched for the time being.

“Hyunjin!”

His head shoots up instantly and you swear, besides the sweat, there’s now a hint of tears in his eyes. Frustrated and angry, they don’t dare roll down his cheeks in fear of getting his wrath.

Making his way over, you’re relieved to see his sharp edges soften, palms unclenching.

“Baby.” You coo the moment he’s near, instantly reaching to wipe his face with the towel you brought along, wanting to make him feel more comfortable. Without a word, he lets you pamper him while his eyes flutter shut, exhaling softly through his nose, chest already moving at a calmer pace.

Pushing his hair out of beautiful face, you rest the towel around his neck, his eyes following your every move until you offer him your opened water bottle, which he takes gratefully.

“It isn’t your fault.” You whisper, moving to wrap your arms over broad shoulders, pulling him into an embrace he returns instantly, strong arms around your middle almost lifting your body over the fence. “You did well. The coach saw you weren’t the one that started it.”

Conflicts on the field were rare but never nonexistent and as the captain, your boyfriend has had his fair share of them. Only this time, it got too far, with a guy from the other team getting into Hyunjin’s face to start a real, physical fight. Hyunjin usually didn’t engage, but this time he almost did, the guy’s nasty words getting under his skin.

Pulling back, you take his gloved hand into both of yours, gently massaging it. “Are you okay?”

His silence is concerning, out of character for the man who would usually talk your ear off about the most mundane things.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s lips part as he takes a deep breath, no longer able to meet your gaze. However, as he prepares to speak, someone beats him to it.

“Yo, Hwang! Get it together!” A familiar voice gets both of your attention and as you turn to the culprit, you see Jisung, frowning in his seat a few rows above while Chris next to him throws encouraging thumbs-ups your way. “Did you stub your thumb and need your girlfriend to kiss it better? Should she also get you a pacifier while she’s at it?”

He smirks, raising his chin defiantly, which certainly has the desired effect on your boyfriend. Without missing a beat, Hyunjin pries his hand out of yours, gently, and proudly raises his middle finger at the boy, making Jisung and everyone around him laugh.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, trying to bite back the smile that quickly widens when Hyunjin leans down without warning to peck your lips sweetly, not once, but two times, lingering there and basking in all the love and support your mere presence provides him with.

A few people in the audience, who seemed to have stopped following the game in favour of watching you, wolf whistle and cheer, deeming you more interesting. But your boyfriend doesn’t care, he never does when your arms are around him, grounding him and chasing all of his anger and negative emotions away.

When he pulls back, the smile on his lips is genuine as he rests his forehead on yours. “God, Jisung is so fucking annoying.”

You giggle, stealing another kiss he returns eagerly, cupping your face to bring you closer and lick into your mouth, not being able to hold himself back any longer. It’s hot and passionate, almost like he wants to eat you whole without caring about who’s here to witness it, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, insatiable, and you barely hold yourself back from moaning into his mouth, still too aware of your surroundings to lose your head like that.

Fortunately, he remembers where he is and cools it down before you, pulling back with a low groan at the barely visible string of saliva that keeps you connected for a few seconds more.

“Thank you, baby.” He breathes out, relaxed, his previous frustration nowhere in sight. “My little guarding angel that always knows what to do to make me feel better.”

And as fate has it, Hyunjin only continued to change after that, day by day, and slowly but surely, you stopped being his top priority. Now, all of the previously mentioned hobbies and passions became more important, and more time consuming, while you, his family, and sometimes even his friends, were benched for seasons at a time.

Hyunjin never noticed it, nor did he recognize it as an actual problem when you brought it up, brushing past your concerns like they were nothing at all. He became snappy, more stressed, walking towards the edge of the abyss that represented burnout at an alarming pace he did nothing to slow down, almost like his brakes were removed.

Free falling to an impending doom.

That’s how you lost him. That’s how you lost the love of your life, unable to save him or any remains of the person he once was five years ago.

Present day.

Your head is spinning, still not fully processing the information you’ve just learned, frozen on the spot and forced to watch a scene that only brought you discomfort.

“Hyunjin…has been replaced?”

The words escape slowly, almost like you were first tasting them on your tongue before choosing to let them free. When you manage to tear your gaze from the field, blocking out the happiness on their faces, laughing away without a care in the world like they weren’t missing their core, the most fundamental part of the team, your friends are unable to meet your eyes. The only one who tries is Jeongin, with a frown that contorts his whole face, as if your sadness was contagious and he caught it without meaning to just because he was there.

But this one was his. Because Jeongin cared a great deal, the little brother Hyunjin never got but has always wanted. They used to be close like no other, and you can’t even begin to imagine what he’s feeling right now.

“Allegedly.” Jisung shrugs like he couldn’t care less, the perfect picture of nonchalance with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Temporarily!” Seohyun quickly clarifies, shooting him a cold glare he doesn’t even acknowledge. “Just until he can play again, that’s all.”

Now, you’re even more confused, gaze dropping to Chris who exhales loudly, taking his seat with great difficulty. “Why isn’t he able to play?” He hesitates, and that causes your heart rate to speed up, worry plaguing your mind and painting your surroundings in charcoal black, the colors fading gradually along with the light in your eyes.

“Hyunjin…” Chris trails off, clearing his throat and avoiding your pleading eyes. “He got injured three months ago, at the last game of the season. The team couldn’t remain in the lead without him so they lost.”

Noticing the shock on your face, he grasps your hand, squeezing while the other three come to cover you from prying eyes. His voice drops to ensure nobody else hears your conversation. “It might’ve cost the team their victory but Hyunjin had to pay the price with his health. Changbin told me he still has trouble walking sometimes, so the coach and his dance professor agreed to give him more time to recover.”

“Hyunjin is injured…” You feel like a parrot, only managing to repeat whatever words have the biggest impact on your impressionable mind, stuck in place like a broken record.

“Bug – “

“You all knew and didn’t think to tell me?”

They don’t expect you to snap out of it so soon, and redirect your emotions at them, eyes narrowing. Seohyun looks sheepish, even a little guilty while Jisung doesn’t allow you to see his face, suddenly fascinated by the greatness of the stadium.

“I – “ Jeongin clears his throat, pushing his big glasses up his nose. “Tried to contact him after I heard what happened. He didn’t answer, not even once, not even as time passed and he was already MIA for months.”

His face falls, obviously mourning the loss of their friendship. “I’m guessing they got a similar answer. Felix took pity on me at one point and filled me in on his situation. Hyunjin travelled home to Daegu right after, so nobody saw him for months. He became a ghost I doubted myself of ever meeting…”

Chris nods, more in the loop than you were. “He didn’t answer any of our calls, but I did send him a flower basket and a card on our behalf.”

“A fucking flower basket, Chris?” You can’t hold it in, exploding like a firework that missed its cue and blew up in someone’s face, devoid of any pretty colors as tears well up in your eyes. “You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re joking.”

Everyone knew and chose to keep you in the dark, to protect you without realizing their actions were causing more harm than good.

If only you would have attended the game and not run off, if only they would have bothered to tell you – you could have been there for him, his shoulder to lean on during his recovery. That’s why Hyunjin was different, so much colder and detached; he was in pain. Sure, this change started way before the accident in June, when the game took place, but now his recent behavior made sense.

You couldn’t even imagine what he must be feeling right now, forced to sit on the sidelines, not allowed to express himself through dance or run freely on the field to blow off some steam. A tortured man, trapped inside his own body without any means of escaping. Everything he worked so hard on, poured so much of himself into suddenly ripped away from him, life put on hold because of a stupid accident. Of an injury he didn’t deserve.

The irony of it all almost had you in tears. Somehow, in some way, people who used their bodies for art, or to provide entertainment for others, always ended up in pain, unable to continue doing so.

Dancing was his past, present and future. Hyunjin must be devastated, rattling against the bars that kept him in place to be let out, screaming and crying in agony with nobody able to hear him.

One blow after the other, the coach’s decision must have driven him back home, to isolate himself from the world until he felt, even the tiniest bit, like himself again.

Scoffing, you don’t wait for any of them to answer, storming down the stairs in search of the man who possessed all the answers you were looking for, not staring back once as Chris called after you, concerned.

You slip through the crowd, quickly avoiding all of the students who were just now arriving, leaving the bleachers area and sneaking into the field, on the other side of the fence.

The coach has his back to you, an older man in his forties who was the equivalent of a teddy bear, leaving everyone confused as to what drove him into coaching such a sport. In your opinion, he should have been a kindergarten teacher, with the way he coddles these grown men on the field. Of course, except in the cases where they mess up or get into fights.

“Oh, it’s you.” The coach tenses up once he notices your presence, surprised, almost like the one in front of him wasn’t you but a big, intimidating guy ready for a fight.

You slide next to him, taking a seat on the bench he’s standing by. “Hello.”

“Hyunjin isn’t here.”

“Yes, I have eyes.”

He looks nervous, arms crossed over his chest as he sneaks glances at you from the corner of his eye, perplexed at your sudden appearance. “Listen, if you came over to try and convince me to change my mind – “

“I didn’t.”

His shoulders slump forward, deflating as he sighs, looking straight up defeated, like the team’s fate has been sealed before they even got the chance to play. Fidgeting on the spot, you wait patiently for him to speak again, knowing it’s a matter of time before he caves in and spills his heart out. The coach has always been a sensitive man, a heart over mind type of guy, caring beyond belief which made him the butt of the joke one too many times.

“I didn’t want to bench him, it was never my intention, believe me. But I had no choice.”

You remain composed, crossing one leg over the other as you watch the team warm up some feet away. “Because of his injuries?”

“Yes.” He breathes out, relieved you seem to understand. “He’s all skin and bones now, barely managing to use his dominant hand. Tell me, what was I supposed to do? Put the team above his health? Ruin his chances at a full recovery because of my selfish reasons?”

Now that was definitely an exaggeration. You’ve seen him recently, granted in his uniform, but Hyunjin looked fine, just about the same. The same but different, taking into account the changes he brought to his appearance.

But you did remember seeing him catch the football with his left hand while his right was behind his back, almost like he was hiding it from the world. This was concerning, causing anxiety to eat at your core unpleasantly. If Hyunjin also injured his dominant hand, that meant he couldn’t paint. Which ultimately meant he was currently going stir-crazy, feeling truly hopeless.

Why was the universe so cruel to him?

“And so? Who became captain in his stead? Yeonjun?” You play dumb, keeping your emotions in check just to get all the necessary information out of him. A little dishonest, but your moral compass wasn’t really working right now.

To your surprise, the man scoffs, turning to face you. “Yeonjun? He called me a joke and laughed in my face.”

Bewiled, you lean closer, trying to understand Yeonjun’s behavior. He was one of the best guys on the team, why would he react like that? “What?”

He nods, letting his bulky arms fall to his sides. “All of my best players refused to fill in for him, turning me down in hopes of changing my mind and allowing Hyunjin to return sooner.”

Now this was heartwarming, pulling an unvoluntary smile out of you, happiness blooming in your chest at their obvious care for their long time captain. They were all standing in solidarity with him, unafraid to share their opinions and give the coach a piece of their mind. Hyunjin was so loved – if only he was here to see it with his own eyes, you were sure he’d feel a hundred times better.

“Then maybe you should.”

“I thought you said you weren’t here to get me to change my mind?” He raises a suspicious brow.

You grin, standing up and inching closer. “I lied.”

With a sigh, the coach shakes his head, not as impressed as you thought he’d be. “Sorry, can’t do. I already spoke with his dance prof and Hyunjin will be taking it easy for the next two months.”

You open your mouth ready to protest, his decision a little too extreme until something makes you stop, a light bulb going off in your head. Two months meant until November at most. The season started in late October which meant, in his words, Hyunjin would be back just in time to lead the team to victory. He wasn’t trying to sabotage him or his mental health, the coach was genuinely looking out for him, trying to help and ensure he was completely healed before the championship.

He was giving him as much time as he could to pull himself together, to regain his strength and the sparkle in his eyes. Hopefully, Hyunjin could see that, see the light that was peeking through the dark clouds that were currently only bringing rain into his life.

Seems like, no matter how hard you try, you’ll always care for him.

“Besides,” he continues, voice softer as he notices the contemplative look on your face, “Jaemin is a good player. Hyunjin picked him himself during last year’s tryouts.”

Well, Hyunjin definitely didn’t expect Jaemin to take his place when he made that choice.

“He’s the only one who didn’t reject me. If it weren’t for him, our team wouldn’t have a captain right now, and you know how important that is for morale.”

Now this spoke volumes about Jaemin’s character. Sure, this was the right thing to do, a noble act that was meant to redirect the team on the right track, lead them in time of need. Yet, on the other hand, your personal feelings on the matter viewed him as an opportunist, one that couldn’t care less about Hyunjin or the individuals on the team.

It looked like his loyalties only lay with himself. Something that wasn’t viewed favorably in a team sport.

“So please, don’t resent me too much.”

Your head snaps to him, to see the man crestfallen, a sign his decision must weigh heavy on his heart.

Sighing, all the fight leaves your body as you prepare to leave, taking one last look at the field that now looks so much different. “I don’t think I’m the person you should be telling that to.”

Defeated, he nods and walks away towards the locker rooms, to reflect or maybe encourage the remaining guys before the game starts. You barely make it two steps when a deep, loud voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“Y/n! Wait up!”

Turning, you’re surprised to see the one currently running towards you, distraught and desperate is none other than Daehyun from Yonsei University. Your rivals in more fields than one, the deans have been beefing behind the scenes and plotting on how to take the other down every single day without fail for years now.

Despite your reservations, you allow him to catch up, curious about what he’s going to say. You weren’t friends, but you did bump into each other on one too many team dinners in the past, loving to celebrate his wins at the same restaurant Hyunjin’s team frequented a little too much. Petty and immature till the end, no wonder his most famous nickname was Petty Wap.

He comes to a stop in front of you, briefly leaning on his knees to catch his breath before blurting out, without giving you the chance to say anything. “Where the fuck is Hwang? Did he finally realize he sucked and quit for good?”

Your eyes widen at the blatant disrespect, blood boiling in your veins as you try to pull yourself together and not cuss him out into retirement. With the nastiest glare you can muster, you cross your arms over your chest. “Hello to you too, Daehyun. Don’t you have a game to play?”

“What game?” He throws his arms up before running a hand over his face, too agitated for your liking. “I’m not playing against anyone other than Hwang! So where is he? Do I need to come drag his ass back on the field or what?”

The rivalry that sparked between them after a random game a few years ago was often a form of entertainment for all the people in attendance, who were looking forward to the games they’d play against each other in anticipation of the winner. SNU’s team was arguably better than Yonsei’s, all of the stats pointing in that direction but sometimes, even they failed as the two teams would be neck and neck until the goal that sealed their fates.

It was mostly a one-sided rivalry, with Hyunjin loving to get under Daehyun’s skin by barely acknowledging his existence on and outside the field. Which only sprouted him, set on earning Hyunjin’s attention like he was some sort of buff high school girl, spending her days longing for her crush’s love.

You don’t get to respond when an arm is thrown over your shoulder, the friendly gesture signalling only one person’s presence.

“Get off the field then. Nobody is looking forward to your lacklustre performance anyway.”

You look up at Yeonjun, surprised at the hostility in his voice. Daehyun splutters, taken aback. “What – “

“Oh, sorry.” However, the apology is not sincere in the slightest, his arm pulling you closer. “Should I speak slower so you can catch up? Since you’ll never catch up to me on the field, I might as well give you an advantage. “

“Jun – “ You try to diffuse the situation once you notice the anger on Daehyun’s face, his form towering over you both.

“Motherfucker.” He bites, almost growling and you still can’t wrap your head around Yeonjun’s objective. Did he hear your conversation? Why the hell was he so mean?

You’re pushed behind him when Daehyun steps forward, chest to chest with Yeonjun like they were preparing for a face off, drawing the nearby players’ attention. Flabbergasted, you get a hold of his jersey and pull, urging him to back off until either of the coaches notices the commotion and calls the whole game off, benching them for the whole school year.

Before you know it, a hand comes in between them, and a familiar voice asks, concerned. “What is going on here?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Daehyun spits at Jaemin, eyes flying to Yeonjun who nods and makes a face you can’t see. Squinting down at him, more guys gather around, assessing the situation before deciding if they should butt in or not.

“You’re the pipsqueak that’s currently replacing Hwang?!” It dawns on him a moment later, and now his anger is quickly redirected. It almost looks like they’re both ganging up on Jaemin, suddenly joining forces once they realise they share the same enemy.

“Excuse me?” Jaemin raises a brow, looking between Daehyun and Yeonjun in confusion.

Then, almost like he couldn’t be bothered to speak to him again, Daehyun lowers his head to whisper to both you and Yeonjun, deeming you an accomplice. “Meet me by the lockers after the game. We can take him out together.”

Yeonjun smirks as you stare at them in horror, not believing your ears. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had in your life, Park. Let’s do it.”

They high five, snickering and you take this as your cue to back away, not wanting to get roped into whatever deranged plan they were currently cooking up. Sure, your perception of him might have been altered, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see Jaemin getting beat up! What the hell was with men and starting unnecessary fights, just to satisfy their fragile egos?

You should let the coach know about this, just in case they actually decide to go through with their plan.

However, the tone of his voice surprises you before you can make your grand escape.

“Choi.” Jaemin speaks lowly, eyes narrowed as he stares at him with a superiority that is bound to make the other man’s blood boil. “Shouldn’t you be warming up for the game instead of kissing the competition’s ass? Or have I interrupted something I shouldn’t have?”

The implication isn’t lost on either of them and while Yeonjun fumes, Daehyun can’t help but chuckle, mumbling something under his breath that sounds almost like ‘my bitch’.

“Scram.” Jaemin points towards the benches like he’s training a stray dog who can’t do anything but obey, especially since the coach chooses this moment to exit the locker room. They stare each other down for a moment more before Yeonjun scoffs and walks away, bumping into his shoulder with unnecessary force while calling out mockingly.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Saluting, the bitterness seems to sting Jaemin, who exhales loudly, relieved when Daehyun follows without saying another word.

Then, his eyes land on you, and you do everything in your power to not react as nasty as the other two did.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n!”

You ignore him, whipping around in the opposite direction to find Chris by the fence, waving you over, a little concerned and ready to jump over any obstacle to get to you. Behind him, you spot Seohyun, Jisung and Jeongin looking just as worried.

So, without another glance in Jaemin’s direction, you walk away, your indifference leaving him confused, and a little hurt, wondering what he could have done to upset you.

Oblivion was his middle name. Or so, you thought.

You don’t stay for the game, previous plan all forgotten, your little friend group bouncing to a nearby café for a hot drink and a much needed chat.

Chris explains everything, from beginning to end, with the other three chiming in whenever necessary to complete his story. As you’ve already established, Hyunjin got injured at the last game of the season, with some guy tackling him to the ground with a little more force than usual. He was expecting him to stand his ground, meet him head on and when Hyunjin didn’t, they both ended up hurt.

Hyunjin came out of it with a broken leg and a sprained hand, his helmet preventing any face injuries. It was apparently a big deal, taking two players out in an instant, and the game was almost called off until the coaches agreed to continue despite what happened. With him out, and all the other guys shaken up about what just transpired, SNU lost, not able to remain in the lead without its captain.

You’re listening so intently, transported into the story your choices prevented you from witnessing, that your heart breaks into tiny pieces all over again. You almost stand up and drive yourself all the way to Daegu, just so you can finally provide him with the love and care he needs, to beg on your knees for forgiveness like him getting injured was somehow your fault.

It wasn’t. It wasn’t anybody’s fault but his own. He took on too much, juggling too many things all at once while choosing to ignore the sirens and signs screaming all around him to stop. Hyunjin’s body has reached its limit and his stubbornness was the only one to blame.

And now, after making what he thought was a full recovery, he was forced to remain on the sidelines, so his mind could rest too. Chris continued to keep tabs on him, concerned as his friend, and Changbin had let him know that Hyunjin had just up and left their apartment, returning home to Daegu like he didn’t spend his whole summer there.

But not only was he in Daegu, with his dog and parents who were supposed to bring him the needed comfort, he was apparently partying it up every chance he got, urged on by his childhood friends and the people around him. Hyunjin was on a quest of destruction, with nobody there to stop or slap him back to his senses. Nobody aware of what was happening, anyway.

How the hell were you supposed to help him from over here?

Better yet, were you the one supposed to help him in the first place?

Even if you were to make the trip, which would never happen since none of your friends would allow you to leave like that, just as the school year began, who’s to say he wanted you there?

It was so typical of you to drop everything for him, put him above your needs and everyone else in your life that now, since his role in the story changed, you didn’t know how to cope.

On most occasions, it felt like he was the sun, and you were one of the many planets rotating around him, pulled in by gravity and whatever magnetic field he developed over the years.

And how was the Earth supposed to not die out without the Sun?

You were running for your life, book bag above your head doing a poor job at protecting you from the pouring rain that was coming down violently, almost like the sky was venting its anger onto everyone in the city. Everyone unfortunate enough to not have checked the weather forecast that morning, anyway.

A few weeks have passed by in the blink of an eye and now October rolled around, bringing along its best friends, rain and thunder. Some friends you didn’t particularly enjoy sneaking up on you.

You got caught up in tutoring the first years, so while most of the students had already gone home, you remained until the sun had set, being the last one to leave. It wasn’t like you to lose track of the time, but for once, you didn’t mind since you were enjoying yourself after so long.

They were full of energy and new ideas, coming up with things your department has never done before. And hence their excitement, you promised you would try to bring their project to life, take it upon yourself to talk to your professors and maybe employ the help of some upperclassmen.

You used to love getting involved in stuff like that, share the joy of music with everyone in different, innovative ways, get people moving to the beats you created. But with time, you seemed to have forgotten, your identity getting a little lost along the way.

Just as you’re about to start mulling over it, already chewing down on your bottom lip, Converse wet since you stepped into one too many puddles, a car pulls up right next to you, careful with the breaks to not splash anyone.

Without wasting a second, you run to the other side to get in, thankful for your saving grace.

The first thing Chris does when he sees you is laugh, reaching over the console in an attempt to fix your wet hair before deciding against it and opening the glove compartment for some tissues.

“Sweetheart, you look like a wet dog.” He states the obvious, eyes sparkling in amusement. “Did you wait long? Sorry, I was at the studio when you called.”

You shake your head, accepting the tissues to wipe your face as he starts driving. “No, don’t worry. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“I’ll always come when you call.” He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you know it’s true since he’s come to your rescue numerous times over the years.

You settle your bag on the floor, by your feet and that’s when you notice your seat getting warmer, the heat turned up just for you.

“Sorry for the mess. I know how much you despise water on your leather seats.”

Chris shakes his head, doing a great job at pretending he’s not bothered at all as he focuses on the road. “Nonsense.” Then, he nods to one of the drinks in the cupholder. “I got you a hot chocolate to warm up. The red one.”

You let out a short laugh, shivering as your clothes were still sticking to your skin. “Why is it red?”

“Because it’s from your favorite coffee shop, duh.” He rolls his eyes in fake annoyance, driving leisurely with only one hand on the wheel.

“God, have I told you how much I love you, lately?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice, but it never hurts to hear more about it.”

Having him in your life was a blessing you still weren’t sure you deserved; the first person who’s ever shown you the real meaning of friendship, sticking by your side no matter how many years passed, or how much you changed on your road to discovery. He’s seen your highs and was right there for your lows, helping you get through them with a kind smile and encouraging words, never letting you give up no matter how hard it got.

“How was tutoring?” The rain is still slamming against the body of the car, even angrier now and you were so grateful you were finally out of it, spared of its wrath.

You look in the back for one of his gym towels, the napkins not cutting it anymore, quickly grabbing it to dry your hair when he nods. “Exhausting. These kids are way too happy.”

Chris laughs, tattooed arms flexing without difficulty in the flimsy tank top he was wearing, the black charm bracelet you’ve bought him for his 18th birthday shining prettily when the light from the lampposts outside hit it just right. You were getting colder just by looking at him. “We used to be just like them a few years ago.”

“I don’t miss it.” You shrug, bending your head to continue with your previous task.

“Liar.”

He knew you too well.

“Anyway, Binnie tells me you’re avoiding him.”

A gasp escapes you, sitting up a little too quickly. “I’m not!”

“Yeah?” He raises a brow, briefly making eye contact before looking back at the road. You were almost there, your apartment building not that far away from campus. “Then why haven’t you replied to any of his texts?”

“I – “ You trail off, embarrassed to say it out loud.

“What?”

Mumbling under your breath, you speak a little louder, but still not loud enough for him to understand you properly. Chris turns down the music just as one of his songs comes on, his playlist as random as ever.

“Y/n, sweetheart, dear best friend, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

With a deep sigh, you give in, right after throwing the towel over your shoulder, in the backseat. “Chris, I can’t write to save my life. I haven’t been able to write any lyrics in months now, my mind completely blank. That’s why I’m not texting Changbin back because I have nothing to say.”

Just then, the car comes to a stop and Chris rests one of his hands on your headrest, looking back to focus on parking.

You continue blabbering. “He’s coming up with all of these great ideas and all I’m capable of doing is agree and marvel at his genius.”

He chuckles but otherwise remains silent until the car stops moving, parking executed perfectly. Then, he raises the handbrake and bursts out laughing. “Genius, huh?”

You frown, blowing a wet strand of hair out of your face. “Don’t be mean.”

Shaking his head, Chris continues laughing. “You know what he does when he can’t write?”

“Hm?”

“Takes a break to get laid.”

You’re surprised, eyes widening gradually as he keeps laughing, reaching up to wipe stray tears out of his eyes like he’s delivered the funniest joke of the night.

A little embarrassed, you struggle to get a word in between his laughter. “Wow, gee thanks, Christopher! What helpful advice!”

You don’t know what’s worse. The fact that he believes you haven’t tried it before, or that he assumes your sex life isn’t completely nonexistent at the moment. Wait…what if he’s suggesting you sleep with Changbin? No, no, no! No way! Chris would never!

“What? You’re telling me you haven’t tried it before?” He wiggles his eyebrows, gently elbowing your side.

“To get inspiration?” He nods and you respond a little too quickly, feeling your face warm up. “No!”

Settling down, his smile is still as bright as ever, his happiness contagious as even you can’t stop yourself from giggling, despite the lingering embarrassment. Since befriending Seohyun, you’ve exclusively discussed things of this nature with her, sparing your childhood best friend the awkwardness the topic of your sex life would bring.

You were dating his friend, after all, you couldn’t begin to imagine how weird it would have been for him.

“You should. The post nut clarity hits hard, but not as hard as it hits Jisung.”

The face you make has him laughing again, and you almost gag at the idea of thinking of your other best friend in such a state. “Okay, gross! Stop putting these images in my head before I barf all over your expensive leather seats!”

Chris throws his head back, having the time of his life, until it hits you, reaching over to slap his biceps repeatedly.

“Wait, is that why he keeps going back to Yoona?”

“Bingo.”

“Oh my god!” You shriek, hand flying over your mouth in disbelief. “He’s so self-destructive!”

Nodding, Chris stretches in his seat. “I know and I keep telling him but it’s like he goes selectively blind, ignoring all of the red flags like they’re not even there.”

You couldn’t have said it better. Since before their break up, when the relationship was still fresh in the honeymoon phase, nobody could bring themselves to like Yoona. It wasn’t like she was a horrible person, this evil green witch straight out of a fairytale; she just brought out the worst in Jisung, stressing him out, upsetting him and making him cry more times than you could count. Their relationship turned toxic so fast that before you knew it, they broke up and got back together twice in the same month.

He claims he wrote all of his best songs while dating her but you beg to differ.

“Anyways, my point is.” Chan’s voice snaps you out of reminiscing, making you aware of the pouring rain that still shows no sign of stopping. “We all have an activity that never fails to inspire us. Or a person, a song, a movie or even a book. Try to remember yours and it will get easier.”

You nod, taking it all in. “Yeah, and apparently yours is sex. Have you ever thought about a threesome? Just imagine all of the ideas you’d get if the three of you had sex at the same time!”

The deadpan look on his face makes you lose it, his next words as serious as they come among your loud laughter. “Don’t even joke about this shit, Y/n, oh my God! My poor mind! I’m going to be sick.”

You’re having the time of your life at his expense, enjoying the way he shudders and gags as he starts imagining against his will. That’s what he gets for laughing at you.

“Fine, but only if we go in before I freeze to death.”

Chris rolls his eyes but complies, opening the door before your hand on his elbow stops him. “Didn’t you bring an umbrella? Or a sweater?”

“For what? Our building is right over there.”

“Chris, it’s pouring.”

He grins, showing off his pearly whites. “The last one there is a wet chicken.” And then he bolts, slamming the car door shut while his giggles resonate throughout the whole parking lot.

You blink, still staring at where he used to be a second ago before you’re taking off, not forgetting your bag in the process as you begin running after him, in the direction of your building.

The rain soaks through your clothes, cold and angry, but Chan doesn’t seem to care, deliberately stepping into every puddle with the biggest smile on his face. It reminds you of when you were kids, and you’d go out into his backyard to dance in the rain and look for snails, impatiently waiting for the rainbow that was sure to follow.

He looked so carefree and happy that it was rubbing off on you, allowing him to get a hold of your hands just so you could spin around, laughing together. The neighbours probably thought you were crazy, stupid kids without an ounce of maturity – but you were too happy to care, finally feeling like yourself in God knows how long.

Eventually, the cold found a new home in your bones, so you entered the building, creating small puddles everywhere you stepped, and laughing at each other’s appearance.

And there, by the elevator, was none other than Jisung, leaning against a nearby wall with his eyes glued to his phone. He was wearing all black, leather jacket with silver trinkets going along nicely with all of his jewelry and slicked back hair. The two of you were a mess compared to him.

“Ji!” You call out, startling him as he almost drops the device. “Hi!”

His eyes widen as he takes in the state of you, pushing himself off the wall in slight concern. “Yo, you’re both soaked. Did you decide to bathe in a puddle or what the hell happened?”

You and Chris share a mischievous look before nodding and lunging at him, arms wide open as he shrieks and tries to sidestep you.

“No! This is a new jacket! Spare me!”

“But, Ji! We missed you so much, let us hug you!”

He’s cornered, eyes darting every which way before the both of you are on him, squeezing him into the tightest hug, fueled by the power of friendship!

Safe to say by the end of it, Jisung had to join you upstairs to change before going on his merry way, grumbling about running late to whatever plans he’s made tonight.

A mere hour later, Chris has also left – something about an urgent appointment which in his language was code for one of his usual booty calls.

So now, you were all alone in your apartment, which felt a little strange. Always surrounded by your friends has made you a little dependent, needing them at all times to feel whole. But now, they were all out, having fun at a party or a random outing, because as much as it hurt you to admit, time didn’t stop for anyone. They weren’t frozen in place, unable to step out of quicksand and continue with their lives like you were, no matter how supportive or kind they’ve been.

Your life was on hold, against your will, but theirs wasn’t. As much as you deluded yourself into believing it, life went on, and your friends were all their own people, with their struggles and insecurities, and they weren’t obliged to stand still and wait until you got your shit together.

Not like you minded, that much. You reckon having them all to yourself, at your beck and call like you were nothing more but a fragile being that needed help at all times, would feel worse.

So, you were glad to see that their lives regained their normality, the one they struggled so much to build and keep.

And you were sure that after a while, you would manage to follow in their footsteps as well. Just not now. Now felt too soon for any of that, your fluffy blanket too comfortable to leave behind yet.

In an effort to do so, to begin training to ensure you’ll be able to keep up, you do the unexpected. Listening to Chris’ advice from earlier, you take one of your four guitars out of hiding, all dusty from the months spent in the disorganized closet. You knock over some boxes in the process, stumbling backwards like you weren’t welcomed into the little space, banished entirely from relieving any beautiful memory that was stored there.

From boxes to clothes, both yours and numerous articles that belonged to other people in your life, to your prized guitars and old diaries, your closet housed everything. There were photo albums, small gifts you wanted to keep safe, matching jewellery that was missing their other halves, movie, art gallery and concert tickets – you kept everything. A little bit of a hoarder, in Jisung’s words, your sentimental side couldn’t rid itself of anything.

Yet, one box decided to bare its contents to you, taking pity on your pathetic self. Crouching down to examine it closer, familiar handwriting greeted you with a punch in the gut, note yellowed with time.

The first song you ever wrote. And the cute, crooked doddles he decided to leave everywhere, like little comments and annotations he couldn’t keep to himself, highlighting every word or passage he liked. Hearts, smiley faces and angel wings, this is how Hyunjin described your stupid song that barely made any sense, the one he’d claim was his favorite, even after years and years passed and your skills improved.

You never got it, never understood why he was so attached to a love song written by a teenage girl who had no idea what love even meant at the time, a foreign concept she only discovered much later.

Perhaps he was even more sentimental than you, letting nostalgia rule his whole world without bothering to have a say in it. A go with the flow kind of guy, Hyunjin’s next move was always a mystery to everyone around him. That’s exactly why you were left dumbfounded when you tried gifting him this same song, but better, finished and properly recorded, a few years ago, and he firmly refused. He claimed the original was better, more authentic and you, and that nothing could ever come close to it in his heart.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement; you were disheartened for weeks, especially since that was the first time Hyunjin openly disliked one of your songs. Always your biggest fan, your muse would hype up everything you came up with and deemed worthy enough to put on paper, record and show him. After all, most of your songs were about him and your relationship, of course, he’d be left flustered and giddy, honoured by your unconditional love and support.

It's not like you couldn’t handle criticism, your whole major consisted of it, but when it came from him, it hit extra hard. Not like he criticized your work to begin with, he just felt comfortable enough to speak his mind – but for some reason, you still took it as such.

So, for a few months, you stopped writing and composing, being left in limbo just like you were now, not daring to pick up another pen. Back then, you managed to get out of that state with his help, his love the anchor that pulled you back up to the surface.

But now, you didn’t have such a luxury. How were you going to navigate these new waves by yourself?

Closing the box, you don’t spare it another glance as your foot pushes it back into the closet. You grab your guitar and move to the living room, making yourself comfortable on the couch with slight hesitation.

Your fingers hovered over the chords, mind racing with all of these different thoughts you couldn’t seem to put in order, quiet down enough to entrap on paper. You didn’t have a muse now, so what exactly were you supposed to write about? It felt like every significant moment of your life had a song, immortalized into a piece of art to remember for years to come.

All but one, the most recent event.

You begin tickling the chords, sheepish and clumsy, out of your element as the random anime sticker Jisung stuck on the guitar stares at you expectantly. The pink haired girl was smiling, but you still felt like she was judging you and your lack of talent.

“What the fuck am I saying?”

Shaking your head, your eyes close as a familiar melody fills the air, echoing through the empty apartment. Your favorite song has never failed you before, sure to warm up your brain and unlock the creative part of it, breaking the chains which held it captive.

The corners of your mouth tilt upwards in a small, but genuine smile, pleased at what you are hearing and experiencing, happiness blossoming like flowers in your empty chest. Just as you open your mouth to start singing, you can’t seem to find your voice, breath hitching in your throat.

You try again, and again, and by the third time, you’re luckily interrupted by loud buzzing, your fingers stopping abruptly. Where did you leave your phone?

Back in your room, you find it thrown on the bed, face down.

“Hello?” You answer, barely checking the caller ID, a little annoyed at being interrupted.

“Babe!” Seohyun’s loud voice greets you enthusiastically, followed by muffled giggling and booming music in the background. Now see, compared to Jisung, Seohyun would actually pick up the phone if you called even if she was having the time of her life at a party. “I miss you! What are you doing?”

You sigh, smiling despite yourself. “I’m at home, Seo. Did something happen?”

She was currently at a random sorority party thrown by her department, having fun with friends and classmates alike. Of course, she had asked you to come along but you really didn’t feel like it, choosing the comfort of your own home in favor of the loud, over the top party.

“So, nothing important, okay.” She giggles, and you can already tell how many drinks she’s had by now. “Will you come here? I promise it’s so fun, and you’ll love it!”

Your head turns to the window by the bed, the rain calming down but not stopping entirely. “But it’s raining.”

You hear her groan, presumably rolling her eyes before giggling again. “Oh, excuse me, your highness, I didn’t know a little rain would cause you to melt and turn into a puddle yourself.”

This time you snort, amused at her teasing. “Not at all, but I might grow a tail instead of legs and freak everyone out.”

You share a laugh, easily falling into your usual dynamic.

“Please?” She tries again, the music suddenly quieter. “I want you to meet someone and I know you’re in desperate need of a drink. Or two. Or a round of shots if I think about it.”

She was certainly right but you weren’t about to admit that and have her come back home just to drag your ass there personally.

“Seohyun – “

“No, I don’t want to hear it if you’re going to reject me!” Her voice gets higher, likely a little upset.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, letting yourself fall backwards on the fluffy covers. “Then I’ll just hang up the phone.”

“Boo, you whore!” You laugh at the reference, not taking any offence as she keeps talking. “Fine, I’ll come and get you – “

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence as a loud shriek escapes her, followed by crashing in the background that has you sitting up instantly, worried.

“Seo, are you okay?”

No answer, at least not from her anyway, the chatter on the other side escalating into yelling that prevents you from catching any glimpse of your best friend. You hang up with the biggest sigh, throwing your phone to the side while letting your head fall onto cold hands, needing ten seconds to pull yourself together and come to terms with what you’re about to do.

When you stand up, grab your phone and keys, your mind is cursing at you for being such a good friend.

When you exit the uber, after a fifteen minute drive, you’re greeted by a sight that could only rightfully belong in a zoo. The beautiful and grand sorority, with its tall, white columns and perfectly mowed lawn, was a mess. With cheap, plastic lounge chairs thrown about hazardable, toiled paper on the roof and a few passed out students right next to random, white ballons and red plastic cups, the sight was one straight out of a bad, coming of age college movie.

It was obvious this was not the usual sorority party because the girls would never allow their place to get this rowdy. This was their sanctuary, so the fact that they allowed guys in here was already surprising enough. Now you were sure they would all be banned from stepping on their property by tomorrow morning, first thing once the sun rose.

You step over every drunk man and vomit puddle, swiftly avoiding the couples busy eating each other’s faces off as you enter, already regretting your decision. But Seohyun stopped answering her phone, and you were too worried for your own good, needing to know what exactly cut your means of communication to be able to sleep tonight.

The castle like interior was filled to the brim with students, from every department you could think of, lounging about anywhere their eyes landed, either to rest or because they were too intoxicated to get up. It’s packed, but somehow breathable, so you manage to make your way inside with ease – until you pass the grand staircase in the hallway, marble and chandelier. The main living area resembles a rave, lights down low, booming music along with the strong smell of alcohol and weed that makes your eyes water.

Ever the party animal, this was Seohyun’s natural habitat, loving everything this type of setting entailed, so she shouldn’t be far. You, however, were quickly remembering why you stopped attending sorority and fraternity parties in the first place. They weren’t as exclusive or organized as the parties 3racha threw, so by definition, they were a complete mess – mixing drugs with huge amounts of alcohol often led to lots of fighting, hook ups and too many unsanitary liquids on the floor. 

They got so crazy that the university came up with a new rule, which forced every house to block off their pools and balconies to prevent any unfortunate accidents from happening. Most obliged, but some, that felt like they were above the dean, only pretended to listen to get the old man off their backs.

Passing through, you squint in an attempt at spotting any part of your best friend, bumping into people left and right. The colorful flashing lights were making it hard to see, or think, so you reached for your phone again, dialling her number in hopes of finally getting an answer.

You only manage to bring the device to your ear before a hand lands on your shoulder and suddenly, you’re spun around to face the one person you’ve been searching for. What luck, really.

“Babe! You made it!” Seohyun throws herself at you before you can utter a word, hugging you tightly with her arms over your shoulders, buzzing with excitement. Her sweet perfume provides a welcomed change from all the overwhelming smells in here, bringing you some much needed comfort.

“Seo.” You pull back, holding her by the shoulders with a frown. “I must’ve called you a hundred times by now. Why did you hang up like that?”

Visibly confused, your best friend blinks, the gold shimmer on her eyelids blinding every passerby. “What?”

“Your phone!” You try again, speaking louder to make sure she hears you over the loud music. “Where is it?”

“I’m not sure…”

The furrow between your eyebrows deepens, grabbing her hand into yours. “Seohyun.”

The smile she shoots you is so bright, so sincere and toothy that your concern seems silly now like you have been worrying for nothing. Squeezing your hand into both of hers, she doesn’t even seem to mind the people on the dancefloor constantly bumping into her, and you.

“Y/n! I’m so happy to see you!”

Defeated, you allow her to bring you into another hug, her delighted giggles like ointment for your tense muscles. One thing was for sure, Seohyun was drunk out of her mind, so you didn’t regret coming out to find her, even if her level of awareness was currently under the negative mark.

Dealing with a drunk Seohyun was a particularly challenging task, one not many could see to completion. Her energy was either on top of the world or down in the dumps, no middle ground. Clingy like no other or suddenly disliking you with all of her might, a river of tears running down her pretty face that somehow didn’t ruin her flawless makeup. Yet no matter her current state, Seohyun was still as endearing as one could be, unable to get mad when her childlike glee would sneak through all of your barriers and warm your cold heart.

“There you are.” A deep voice startles you out of your thoughts, clear as day in your ear despite the loud music all around you. “I should’ve known you’d manage to find her even in this crowd.”

Seohyun pulls away, eyes sparkling as they land on the new presence behind you, suddenly giddier than before. You don’t manage to turn around before a small, familiar leather clutch is handed to her over your shoulder, a strong yet sweet cologne invading all of your senses as the stranger gets closer.

“My bag!” She almost jumps with joy, smiling brightly as she hugs the expensive garment to her chest. You’re now trapped between her and a random guy you’re sure she just met, lovely.

Fishing her phone out of the bag, her attention is back on you. “Some guys got into a fight and bumped into me when I was talking to you, so all of my belongings ended up on the floor, trampled by everyone. Thankfully Felix took care of them.”

Your eyes widen, worry mixed with surprise creating a concoction of a cocktail in your head. “Felix?”

You whip around before she can say anything else, heart rate speeding up as anticipation rises. There was only one guy you knew with that name, and even though the odds were low, you needed to see for yourself, to check if somehow, by some weird coincidence, the guy Seohyun met was your old friend.

And so, as unexpected as ever, your jaw drops when you make eye contact, too close to be mistaken, his many freckles greeting you before he gets the chance to open his mouth.

“Hello, darling.” Felix smiles with his whole face, ready to burst with happiness at any moment. Your friend Felix, the one you met years ago in high school, who’s been studying abroad in Australia for the majority of your time here, was in front of you, smiling like he never left. Which was funny because his smile was the only familiar thing about him, while things like his appearance and clothes, even the way he carried himself, were completely different.

You barely recognized the person in front of you, so grown up with his bleached, shoulder length hair and black, leather clothes. The exterior was different, but changes on the interior were harder to spot, and to accomplish, and by the way he was staring at you one thing was for certain.

His heart definitely hasn’t changed.

“Felix?” You’re so taken aback that you can’t help but repeat yourself, his presence at this party is the last thing you expected. “But how? Why? When? Weren’t you just in Australia a few months ago – “

He laughs, high pitched as you remembered, throwing his head back in amusement. “God, I missed you, Y/n.”

You’re pulled into a hug before you can wrap your head around everything that’s happening, your questions left unanswered as he squeezes you tightly, lifting your feet off the ground. Felix was really here, at a random sorority party, treating you as warmly as ever.

For the longest time, you were certain that once he returned, Felix would treat you as coldly as Minho, barely acknowledging your existence and the bond you shared. Which was understandable, if you took into consideration the way your relationship with Hyunjin ended. But here he was, claiming he missed you.

He hasn’t been the greatest at keeping in touch, and you never blamed him – Felix was in his hometown, living life to the fullest, and experiencing university just like all of you were doing here. You couldn’t expect him to be as present as before, a significant part of your friend group when he had his own thing going on, almost an ocean apart.

His warmth was familiar as you hugged him back, reminiscent of the way he’d always hug you in greeting, every time you’d bump into each other, either by mistake or when all of you hung out together. It almost brought tears to your eyes, a wave of emotions surging through you.

When you’re put down, his smile hasn’t budged, staring at you with such fondness that you can’t hold yourself back from pulling his cheeks. “Look who finally remembered he also has friends here, in Korea!” You pull a little harder, and he grimaces, the only show of discomfort as he then laughs loudly. “Have you met up with Chris yet? He’s been missing you like crazy!”

One of his arms finds its way around your waist, the other reaching for Seohyun behind you as he pulls the three of you back, out of the way of all the people on the dance floor. By a wall, right next to a couch that was occupied by multiple couples who were oblivious to their surroundings, too busy making out to care, Felix finally answers.

“Not yet. I got back last month and I barely managed to find time to visit my grandparents.” The only family he still had here.

“Wait a minute.” As if snapping out of a trance, Seohyun butts in. “You know each other?!”

Both of your heads turn in her direction, stifling a laugh as she crosses her arms over her chest, little black dress riding up her thigh slightly. “What the fuck? I wanted to introduce you two!”

This time, Felix does laugh, properly amused. “You’re joking, right? When she and I met, back in high school, you weren’t even aware of her existence. I should be the one introducing Y/n to you.”

Baffled, she takes a step back and lightly collides with the wall, unsteady on her feet. “What?! Y/n’s my best friend!” Then, her gaze flies to you. “Right? Please back me up here.”

Giggling, you reach for her hand. “Of course, babe.”

Seohyun relaxes, and a smirk tilts the corners of her mouth as she sticks her tongue out at Felix. “See? Suck it, pretty boy.”

Shaking his head, chuckling, Felix leans over to tickle her sides, the sudden closeness surprising as they share a laugh. Maybe you should be the one getting an introduction after all because damn, where was all of this coming from?

“Yongbok!”

And just like that, your second surprise of the night strolls in like he owns the place, making his way over like there wasn’t a whole ongoing party keeping you apart.

Felix turns around at the same time your heart drops, smiling so brightly while you try everything in your power to not succumb to the inevitable panic attack that threatens to take you under.

“Hyunjinnie!”

What were the fucking odds?

Hyunjin shoves past a couple that’s in his way, tense features relaxing once he spots his best friend, managing to stand out from the crowd even in the dim, dark blue lighting in his red, mohair cardigan and blonde ponytail. A sight to behold, Hyunjin could never be overlooked, no matter what was currently taking place around him.

People stop and stare, eyes wide in wonder as some try to get his attention, to no avail. He doesn’t slow down nor greets anyone, for some reason in a hurry and heading straight to you. Well, not you specifically.

“Yongbok.” He breathes out once he reaches your little group, face stern. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why the fuck did you run off like that?”

Frankly speaking, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Last you heard, Hyunjin was partying it up in Daegu. Did he suddenly change venues?

You couldn’t look at him, heart aching painfully in your chest, but at the same time, you didn’t seem to be able to look away from him either, his mere presence pulling you in just like it was doing to everyone else around. A magician without a wand, his irresistible charm was enough to enthral a whole room of people at a time.

Felix bounces on his heels, like an excited puppy seeing his owner after a long time, forgetting all about you. “Jinnie! I want you to meet someone!”

Seohyun disappears from your side, brought forth by Felix’s muscular arms, like some sort of trophy or a new, shiny toy a kid was excited about winning at a claw machine.

Hyunjin raises a brow, arms over his wide chest. “Seohyun.”

“Hwang.”

“What the fuck?” Now Felix is the confused one, but still not as speechless as you, looking between the two like they somehow grew a third head. “You know each other?!”

Talk about deja vu. Was it all a dream? Did you actually fall asleep before leaving the house and this whole scene was nothing but a fragment of your imagination? Somehow, that would make more sense than whatever was happening right now.

Hyunjin himself doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on either, but his cheeky side still manages to peek through. “We’re best friends.”

Seohyun scoffs, shaking Felix’s hands off her. “I can’t stand you.”

“See?” He grins, as fake as they come, in Felix’s direction. “I told you.”

“But…” Felix trails off, doe eyes softening as he looks at his best friend, almost like a lost child looking for guidance. “She’s the one I’ve been telling you about. The one I bumped into on the first day.”

Hyunjin blinks, gaze drifting to Seohyun. “So, you’re the one who stole his diary?”

“Stole?! I’m no thief, Hwang!”

Then, without being able to hold it in anymore, you explode. “What the fuck is going on here?!”

The three of them turn to face you at the same time, with Hyunjin’s eyes doubling in size like it’s the first time he’s made aware of your presence, the first time he sees you tonight. And you were sure it was, his attention solely on Felix from the moment he walked in. Which was to be expected, you haven’t been his priority in a long time. An afterthought he barely remembered on most occasions, as always.

Still, he takes the time to look you up and down, take in your pathetic excuse of an outfit you threw together in your hurry to leave the house, regretting your choice that was now making you feel self-conscious. Not like he was fairing any better, in his obnoxious leopard sweats you could never stand that he managed to pull off infuriatingly well, looking like he just rolled out of bed. Even so, he was still flawless, glowing like an angel without his halo.

You haven’t bumped into each other since last month but now, after your talk with the coach a few weeks ago, you saw him in a new light. Out of his gear, Hyunjin did look differently, softer around the edges, the weight loss visible on his lean body. Hyunjin was usually in tip-top shape, hitting the gym multiple times a week, properly taking care of himself and his health.

The injury must have left more marks than he would’ve liked, forcing him to watch his muscle mass decrease with every day spent in bed, making him weaker than he’s ever been.

“Y/n.” Seohyun grabs your hand, leaning into you for support as Felix begins talking Hyunjin’s ear off about what happened earlier. He’s still staring at you, and you can’t seem to be the first to give up and look away, not managing to decipher the emotion in his eyes. “I don’t feel so well.”

Your other arm wraps around her shoulders automatically, to keep her upwards as you continue looking at him, pulled in his direction. “Let’s go get some fresh air.”

Making your way outside proves more difficult than expected with Seohyun on your arm, leaning most of her weight on you. Leaving the guys behind, and Hyunjin’s intense gaze that you don’t notice following your every move, means you’re back into the sea of people, trying your best to navigate the tumultuous waters without crashing.

But you manage like you always do, and five minutes later you’re finally on the porch with a shivering Seohyun. The later hour has brought forth colder weather, characteristic of the autumn month.

“Are you cold?” You ask, just now noticing her outfit. In a strapless, sparkly black dress that barely covered her ass, your best friend shivers like a frightened chihuahua. When she nods, you don’t hesitate to remove your leather jacket and drape it over her shoulders, careful of her long hair.

“Thank you, Y/n.” She smiles, grateful, the cold helping her sober up. “And thank you for coming all the way here just because I asked. You’re an angel.”

You shake your head, thinking nothing of it as you hug yourself. The tight and thin crew neck you had underneath isn’t helping you combat the cold at all. “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, staring down at her shuffling feet, heels suddenly uncomfortable.

“Do you want some water before we leave? I’m pretty sure there were bottles by the front door.”

“That’s champagne.” Seohyun laughs, properly wearing your jacket. “Believe me, I’ve had more than enough of that.”

As you open your mouth to respond, the words die on the tip of your tongue when the front door slams open and startles everyone nearby in the process. You barely register as a random, naked guy flies past, running around the front yard without a care in the world, making it out into the streets and flashing the whole neighbourhood.

He’s happy, laughing loudly as a small group approaches with their phones out, putting on a show for them all to record and make fun of later. With the elegance of a baby deer that’s just learned how to keep steady on his feet, the guy jumps and dances or attempts to, his ballet number not as graceful as he’d hoped.

Not like it matters anyway – even the couples that were busy making out are now cheering on him, clapping and giving him the confidence to continue with his drunken charade.

“It’s small.”

You turn sharply to face her, eyes wide like you couldn’t believe your ears.

“What?” She throws her head back in delight, finding the scandalized look on your face more entertaining than the guy who was currently making a fool out of himself. “It’s an unspoken rule! If your wiener isn’t cooked, you don’t take your pants off.”

You’re still silent, disgust slowly morphing into your features.

“Sorry. I forgot you don’t get my humor.” Seohyun sighs, disappointed.

“Yes, I do. This just wasn’t funny.”

“Or you’re just a prude.”

You gasp, taking a step back. “Wait, do you actually think so? Because Chris has implied the same thing earlier and now I’m starting to believe – “

“Were you planning on leaving without us?”

You’re cut off by the same deep voice from before, with Felix and Hyunjin seemingly appearing out of nowhere since the front door was still wide open. You don’t make eye contact, body turned slightly away from the two in an obvious display of discomfort. As much as you loved Felix, the fact that he brought your ex out here was really starting to bother you, heart aching a little too painfully to be bearable.

“Yeah, the uber is on its way.” You mumble, shuffling closer to Seohyun.

“Lying is a sin, Y/n.”

You roll your eyes just as Felix gasps, warm hand landing softly on your elbow. “Are you in a hurry? Did something happen?”

“Not at all!” Seohyun chimes in before you can respond, stepping between you and the two blondes. Come to think of it, they must’ve talked about it beforehand – their hairstyles looked a little too similar.

Turning to them with a sigh, Felix grins and squeezes your arm. “Great! Because Jinnie will be driving us!”

Hyunjin’s bleached eyebrows shoot up, surprised. “Does Jinnie know about this?”

Felix frowns, his hold on you loosening entirely. “Is Jinnie deaf?”

“Does Yongbokkie want to be left here?” Hyunjin counters, faux sweetness in his tone.

“I was the one who called you –“

“Do you guys need a moment?” You can’t help but giggle as Seohyun interrupts them, not missing the way Hyunjin’s eyes fly straight to you, softening. Meeting his gaze for a split second, you look away as loud cheering erupts from inside, attention stolen once again.

Shaking his head, Hyunjin then steps away with a sigh, presumably to his car.

Felix’s eyes follow him, his hands reaching for both yours and Seohyun’s as he begins dragging you along, contagious happiness in his voice. “Alright! Let’s go!”

A little farther down the street, the party and its loud music start fading in the distance, a faraway memory you won’t be looking forward to recalling any time soon. Hyunjin is a few feet in front, leading the way without a word. In contrast, Felix hasn’t stopped talking since you left.

Frankly speaking, letting your ex drive you home was the worst idea someone could ever come up with. Your protests fell on deaf ears, however, because both Felix and Seohyun were too giddy and enamoured with each other to bother hearing anything else. So, you were stuck between them, surrounded from all sides with no way of escaping other than running back in the direction you came from.

Lovely. You couldn’t think of a crueller fate, really.

A faint beeping sound signals you’ve reached your destination, but the car in front of you couldn’t be Hyunjin’s. This big, white SUV was brand new, nothing like the old, muscle car he got as a birthday gift a few years ago. Confused, you try to look around as subtly as possible, trying to understand what could’ve happened with the other car.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin opens the door to the back seat. “After you, Your Highness.”

Felix almost jumps in, stumbling over his own feet in the process and falling face first into the leather seat, to which both Seohyun and Hyunjin laugh a little too loudly at seeing. But he recovers quickly, and so do you, and as you move to join him, Seohyun steps right in your tracks.

“Babe.” She lowers her voice, waiting until Hyunjin takes his seat at the wheel before continuing. “Would you please, please, seat in front – “

You immediately shake your head, refusing on the spot. “No.”

Was she crazy? Batshit insane? You could not sit there, right next to Hyunjin and pretend everything was fine and dandy when you felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall to your doom at any second.

“Y/n – “

“Seohyun – “

“Hear me out!” She whisper yells, cheeks rosy as she bites onto her bottom lip, timid. “I really like this guy. Felix is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met and I think he might like me too. So, can I please sit with him?”

“But you will, I’ll just be on your other side.” You force a smile, reaching for the door until she slams it shut, surprising you.

“Alone?” She adds, sheepish and way too flustered than she’d usually get in front of anyone. Seohyun was bold and confident, nobody could ever reduce her to a blushing, stuttering mess like she was right now. Nervous was not a word in her vocabulary so, nobody could blame you for not recognizing the person before you.

But then again, she was still drunk, emotions heightened by the alcohol she consumed. Still, you don’t think she understood what she was asking of you.

“Please, Y/n? Will you please do me this huge favor? It’s a fifteen minute drive anyway, you’re gonna be fine.”

Right, because who cared about what you felt anyway? Y/n, the one who always puts others and their needs above her wellbeing.

Seohyun is staring at you expectantly, almost like knowing you will eventually give in and she’ll get her way. Which would have offended you if it weren’t true.

With resignation written all over your face, you step away, and she cheers while thanking you multiple times, her voice dying out when you get into the car and close the door. Hyunjin barely spares you a glance, like you riding shotgun next to him is the most natural thing in the world.

Because it is. Or actually, was.

Seohyun follows quickly after, and Felix shifts to make room, the rearview mirror turning you into a spectator of a play you didn’t have any interest in watching, at least not right now. A story of new affection, an unexpected bond that appeared out of nowhere and forced you right back to the person who made you stop believing in true love.

But then again, maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions so soon. As much as you hoped this thing she had with Felix worked in the long run, you had to be realistic and remember they just met.

The four of you won’t ever be together like this again. You were going to make sure of it.

Hyunjin wastes no time in starting the car, driving off without a hitch, as relaxed behind the wheel as always. This new car was different, so much different than the one he’s been driving since your freshman year, but nobody seemed to care. This man was slowly but surely changing everything about himself and none of his friends said anything, not an ounce of concern expressed for his ears to hear.

You needed to talk to him.

“Nice jacket.” Felix says lowly, a statement meant for Seohyun’s ears only. However, his deep voice carries over, and since neither is trying to be subtle, you and Hyunjin have no problem hearing everything.

“Thanks, I got it from my date.” Unexpectedly, she drapes herself over your seat to plant a big, loud smooch on your cheek that doesn’t fail in leaving a red, lipstick mark. You’re so taken aback that you don’t react for a few moments, stunned before a groan escapes you and she laughs, delighted at your misery. You pull down the mirror on your side to check the damage, rubbing off the mark with your fingers while the conversation continues.

“I thought I was your date?” Felix asks, slightly offended.

“Well, I didn’t see you offering me your jacket?” Seohyun counters, arms over her chest.

Felix glances down at his outfit, leather shirt a little too constraining. “I’m literally naked under this.”

“What a surprise.” Hyunjin mumbles, eyes focused solely on the road.

Through the rearview mirror, you see Felix lean forward to pat him on the shoulder, grinning. “You shouldn’t be talking when you’re currently dressed like a fucking stop sign.”

Seohyun laughs, a little too loudly, and you try to muffle your giggles, still pretending to be busy fixing the mess on your face.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Hyunjin pouting the slightest bit. You haven’t seen him make that expression in literal months. “These are my lounging around the house clothes. Sorry I didn’t put on a suit before coming to pick your drunk ass up.”

Huh. Guess Hyunjin was tricked into coming over there just like you were, driven by the worry he only seemed to carry for his friends. Considering everything you’ve heard about him lately, you were half expecting him to be one of tonight’s hosts, coming from Daegu just so he can party it up with new people.

“Lighten up, Jinnie.” There’s a hint of melancholy in Felix’s smile, squeezing his shoulder before returning to his seat, and opening his arms to allow Seohyun to snuggle herself into his embrace. You flinch at the sight, looking out the window to distract yourself.

“Yeah, or else your face will remain stuck like that.” Seohyun agrees, her head on Felix’s chest.

When Hyunjin doesn’t respond, silence falls over the car, save for the occasional whispering and giggling heard in the back seat from the pair who were still too drunk for their own good. Stuck in their little world, they couldn’t care less about the fact that you felt like a fish out of water in your seat, suffocating as you tried your best to not glance at Hyunjin whose eyes were strictly on the road, focused on getting you all home.

The usual fifteen minute drive seemed to stretch on forever, your destination suddenly impossible to reach. You felt like you were driving around in circles, fidgeting in your seat in an effort to get comfortable.

Not only was Hyunjin too close for comfort after being out of reach for so long, but sitting next to him brought forth all of the instances you’ve found yourself in the same predicament, driving around together with no set destination in mind. Only back then, things were not as bad as now. Back then he was your boyfriend, your sweet and loving Hyunjin whose free hand was always resting on your thigh or holding your own, not letting go until the car’s engine was turned off.

Without their loud chatter to distract you, the strangeness of the situation was slowly creeping in, letting itself take shelter among your many thoughts. This must be as uncomfortable for him as it was for you, but for different reasons – especially since he now loved to pretend you didn’t exist, not sparing you a second glance no matter how many times your gaze found its way to him, staring holes into his perfect side profile.

It truly felt like he didn’t care about you anymore – the actual ending to the love story you thought would last forever. And it hurt, so much so that you struggled to breathe, opting to look out the window in hopes that your body wouldn’t betray you and let the tears escape without permission. That would be truly mortifying.

“Jinnie.” Felix’s voice makes itself heard again, snapping you out of your misery, quieter than before as you realize Seohyun is fast asleep on his chest, clinging onto him.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin asks just as quietly, meeting his best friend’s eyes through the rear-view mirror, which only prompts you to steal another glance at him. He’s relaxed, leaning back into his seat while driving with one hand, the other laying casually next to the central console. Your fingers were itching for him; it would be so easy to move over and hold his hand, intertwine your digits and bring them to rest on your thigh, just to feel his warmth one last time.

With a silent yawn, Felix gets more comfortable in his seat, looking sleepy himself. “I really hope you get to play next month. I know how much you miss it, and we all miss seeing you happy on the field.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as Hyunjin inhales sharply, free hand closing into a fist as the one on the heel tightens its grip, knuckles turning white. Before you can properly react, Felix continues.

“I overheard Mrs. Kang speak with your coach the other day.” He rambles on, the alcohol in his system blurring all of his awareness and making him spill everything without a care in the world, preventing him from noticing Hyunjin’s change in mood. “She hopes you’ll return to class soon. She misses seeing you dance and happily attending her lessons.”

You’re full-on staring at him now, following his every move like a hawk would its prey, noticing the way his muscles all tense up and scream at Felix to stop talking, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Your eyes widen as he slightly raises his fist, in a way that makes it seem he’s about to hit the dashboard, so uncharacteristic of him and his character that you almost freeze on the spot. Before you can even think about it, and process your next move, you reach for him, both of your hands closing over his fist to prevent him from being stupid. That makes him finally turn to you, eyebrows raised in complete surprise, facing you for the first time since you all got into his car.

Meeting his gaze, you subtly shake your head, letting your eyes do all the talking as you gently bring his hand in your lap, trying to coax him into unclenching his fingers.

Hyunjin is frozen, stunned and confused, tearing his eyes away from you once he remembers he’s still driving. Even so, a moment later, you feel him start to relax, your gesture appreciated.

Struggling to find an answer that would satisfy both him and Felix, Hyunjin fidgets in his seat, exhaling deeply once you finally intertwine your fingers with his. “We’ll see.” He manages to croak out, voice louder than before.

This answer, however, seems to confuse Felix even further. “Isn’t this what you want?” His accent is thicker, voice latched with sleep. He’s completely oblivious to what’s currently happening around him.

“Of course.” He nods, not skipping a beat, stealing another glance your way when you start drawing comforting patterns on the back of his hand.

Felix frowns. “Then – “

To Hyunjin’s relief, Felix doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Seohyun starts moving in his arms and steals all of his attention, with him opting to curl around her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear to soothe her back to sleep. A scene you wish you didn’t witness. Staring out the window once again, you try to shake off the painful way your heart keeps squeezing in your chest, hating yourself for your incapability of being happy for your best friend.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks quietly, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s actually talking to you for once, briefly squeezing your hand as the car stops at a red light.

You nod, meekly, looking in the rearview mirror for a split second just to find Felix fast asleep, joining Seohyun in dreamland.

Your fingers on his skin stop their exploration once they feel something similar to a scar, tainting the side of his soft hand all the way up to his pinkie. You look down and see it, angry and red and just now beginning to heal properly. “Are you?”

He doesn’t even need to look to realize what you’re talking about, the brief touch causing him to tense up again and remove his hand like burnt, resting it back on the wheel. “Yup.”

You’re both lying.

The sudden tension is suffocating, so much thicker and unbearable than before as neither is willing to address the huge elephant in the room. You so desperately want to, having enough questions for the both of you. You knew he wasn’t curious about what you’ve been up to ever since you broke up, that he didn’t care, but you did, and this silence was eating away at your sanity with every second that passed.

Were you truly the only heartbroken one? The only one who suffered every day because of his absence? That was something you couldn’t comprehend, weren’t willing to entertain for the sake of your emotional well-being.

Hyunjin has been your everything once. Actually, as much as you hated to admit it, he still is. But how could you let yourself fall for someone whose feelings have never run as deep, didn’t consume his every thought and waking moment as they did to you?

How could you have been so dumb? But most importantly, how could you continue being this dumb when it was clear he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore?

Because you have no answers that don’t involve him, you somehow manage to muster enough courage to open your mouth and ask the one thing that’s been on your mind ever since you found out about it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice is low, and weak since bravery has never been one of your strong suits.

Hyunjin is silent, and you’re afraid that maybe he didn’t even hear you. Eventually, as he turns into a familiar street, he asks, voice just as quiet in consideration of the two sleeping beauties in the back. “Tell you about what?”

“Your injuries.” It escapes so quickly that you don’t even have time to regret or feel bad for bringing it up in the first place.

To your surprise, Hyunjin laughs, short and dry and way too bitter. “And why would I tell you about that?”

“Why?” You’re baffled, blatantly staring at him as he continues avoiding eye contact, like driving didn’t come as second nature to him. “We dated for five years, Hyunjin.”

“I’m well aware, Y/n.” The way he responds, with obvious animosity, makes you curl into yourself, hurting more than it should considering his recent behavior. He changes lanes, entering a well-lit parking lot. “But we’re not dating anymore, so me getting injured was none of your concerns.”

“None of my – of course it was! Are you hearing yourself?”

It’s not like you felt entitled to any explanation whatsoever – Hyunjin was hardheaded, you could never catch him doing something he didn’t want to, which in combination with his hyper independent self was a dangerous combo. But the way he was acting right now made it seem like he was actively trying to erase your shared past, on a solitary quest to a place that couldn’t be accessed by all of the memories and love you grew for each other over the years.

Never one to open up on his own accord when hurt, you had to pry every single word out of him with silver pliers to ensure they wouldn’t irritate his sensitive skin. But this was ridiculous.

The person in front of you was no longer the Hyunjin you have come to adore with every fibre of your being.

“And why would it be?” He counters, pulling the handbrake to ensure the car wouldn’t be going down the same hill your conversation will inevitably take a tumble on.

You shrug, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible before his icy glare. “You know why.”

“No.” Hyunjin shakes his head, running the hand that still had remains of your warmth through unruly hair. “No, I don’t”

Defeated, your voice drops to a whisper. “You should have just told me. Picking up the phone and texting is literally the easiest thing in the world.”

But Hyunjin isn’t as mellow. “If you cared as much as you’re suddenly trying to convince me of doing, you would have come to the game.”

The subtle accusation hidden between the lines stings, and you turn to face him in your seat with a little more bite than before. “Oh yes! Because you would have surely loved to see me there! Especially after you dumped me days prior!”

“Maybe I would have!” He throws his hands up briefly, coming together on the wheel as he lowers his head with a deep sigh, trying to get rid of the emotions that were threatening to bubble to the surface and take him down in the process

“You’re so fucking confusing!”

You can’t believe your ears nor the audacity Hyunjin is currently displaying, the entitlement so infuriating that you had half a mind of storming out of this car and never sparing him a glance for as long as you lived. Who did Hyunjin think he was to expect this of you? For you to read his mind and still put him first after he completely shattered your soul and entire existence?

He leans back, on the headrest with his eyes closed and you can’t help but wonder what nonsense he was preparing next. Annoyance pinches his every word, the belief he was being the bigger person as clear as day. “I don’t want to fight, Y/n.”

“Fight?” You blink, eyes narrowed as they shoot tiny daggers at his blonde head. “I only wanted to talk! But I forgot you hate talking to me, so let’s just drop it.”

Before you can even process it, Hyunjin removes his seatbelt and swings the car door open, preparing to step out. Your hand reaches for his in an instant, eyes wide as sadness begins overflowing the usual colour, the fear of abandonment surging through you at an alarming pace. “What are you – “

“Let’s talk.”

You let go, reluctantly, and his door slams shut, the loud sound helping you snap out of it and recognize your surroundings. He has driven you home, car parked in the usual spot he used every time he came to visit – his spot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling yourself together before following him, not wanting to miss such an opportunity no matter how much your heart hurts.

Unbeknown to you, as soon as your door closes and you begin walking away in the opposite direction, two heads full of curiosity shoot up, undetected thanks to the car’s tinted windows.

“Phase one, complete!” Seohyun cheers, raising her dainty hand for a high fives Felix returns with a chuckle.

“I admit, I’m impressed.” He nods, eyes glued to his two friends outside who were currently studying each other with keen interest, unsure of where to start. “How did you know this would happen?”

“I didn’t” She shakes her head, fishing a hair tie out of her bag, suddenly as sober as one could be. “I just knew Y/n wouldn’t be able to keep silent, especially after you gave her the opportunity to ask about his injuries. They’re too obsessed with each other to shut up or keep their hands to themselves. You saw for yourself.”

Felix looks amused, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “You really do have a lot of faith in this plan of yours, don’t you?”

“Duh. Why wouldn’t I?” She smiles around the hair tie, twisting her long hair into a bun. “Just wait and see, I’ll have you calling me Cupid by the end of it all.”

He raises a brow, tearing his gaze away from the two when he starts to feel like he’s intruding. “And when does it end?”

“When they get back together, silly.”

“Sure. But in what time frame?”

“What do you mean?” Seohyun tilts her head, not quite getting his new line of concerns.

“Your whole plan is solely dependent on the conversation they’re having right now. What if they fight and nothing changes? Things might get worse and then you won’t be able to get them in the same room anymore, let alone back together.”

She pauses, lips thinning as the gears in her brain get back to work. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage no matter what.”

Felix is surprised by her determination, not expecting anyone to go to such lengths for a relationship that wasn’t their own. Y/n has found such a great friend in Seohyun, he’s glad she managed to open up and create new, genuine bonds while he was away. “Yeah? Even if they fight and swear to never speak to each other again?”

She nods, not fazed by anything he’s saying. “Yeah, wanna bet?”

Felix throws his head back, laughing loudly. “Bet on their relationship? Seohyun, that’s fucked up.”

“Bet on my amazing matchmaking skills, goofy!”

He wipes invisible tears from his eyes, freckles still sparkling from the faint traces of glitter on his face in the dim light that peeks through the windscreen, providing the night sky with the stars the grey clouds have obscured. “Alright, Seohyun, let’s bet. But if your plan falls through, you have to admit I was right.”

Seohyun frowns, a little offended. “We’re a team. You’re supposed to help me not pray on my downfall.”

“And I will.” He nods, leaning back into his seat while spreading his legs to make himself more comfortable, channelling all of his self-control not to spare the two outside another glance. “But my plan is better.”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs. “Your plan takes too fucking long. I get taking it slow, but if we were to go with what you suggested, they’d only get around to holding hands by this time next year! We need to get a move on right now, Felix.”

“Alright, Miss Cupid.” Without warning, he leans in close, faces mere inches apart as they begin sharing a breath, lowering his voice to fluster her further. “Teach me what love is.”

[ravensuperr]

Prompt: Gotham Baby Switch Mystery (DCXDP)

Gotham City is in chaos. Major breaking news has just surfaced: a nurse or doctor (your pick) has been involved in switching the identities of nearly 200 babies over the course of their career. Gotham PD, working overtime alongside other police departments, has been investigating the swaps. The authorities now have a list of affected families, and the shocking implications are that the child you’ve cared for, loved, and raised with all your heart may not actually be yours. Worse yet, the child you buried may also have been someone else’s.

Among the families affected? The Wayne family. And, understandably, the Batfamily is freaking out. The questions are piling up: Does this mean we have a brother or sister out there in the world? Why hasn’t Bruce told us about this? Chaos ensues.

Bruce Wayne, however, is left with only one certainty: the child he and Talia al Ghul had together, a baby born prematurely. The child spent days in the ICU, and the doctors were hopeful, but ultimately, the baby passed away. That tragic event had driven a wedge between Bruce and Talia, and she cut ties with him. When she became pregnant with Damian, Talia did everything in her power to ensure that her second child would survive to term, determined not to lose another baby like their first.

Faced with the turmoil of this new revelation, Bruce does the only thing he can think of: he calls Talia. He tells her about the baby swap scandal and asks if, given the news, she’d like to meet the child who might be their lost son or daughter. Talia, understandably, is furious. Her emotions boil over. The trauma of burying her child, only to now be told that the baby may not have been hers at all, is too much to bear. Her first instinct is to kill the person responsible for causing this pain.

Still, Talia decides to take Bruce up on his offer. If the League of Assassins and Batman work together to gather information, she wants to know the truth. And of course, Damian has just discovered that he may have an older sibling—and he’s determined to meet them first. He’s not going to let anyone else in the family get to them first, calling dibs on being the first to see the once presumed-dead sibling.

Two months had passed, and there was still no new information about where in the world Bruce and Talia’s child was. However, since the news had broken in the U.S., many of Bruce’s friends had stepped in to help. Lex Luthor and Oliver Queen suggested that Bruce's child might have taken a DNA test, as it was becoming increasingly popular among adopted or orphaned individuals who wanted to find their birth parents or potential siblings—whether through sperm donation or other means.

That’s when they discovered that a 14-year-old kid from a small town in Illinois had done a DNA test. This was how Bruce, Talia, and the Bat family found out that their lost sibling—whom they all assumed was a boy—was alive. The confusion had arisen because, when she took the test, Danny had used her nickname, Danny Fenton, rather than her full name, Danielle Fenton, which led everyone to assume she was male. In contrast, Jazz, her older sibling, had written her full name—Jasmine Fenton—on her own test. So, when the Bat family found the results, they expected a boy but were unaware that Danny was, in fact, a girl.

However, Danny and Jazz’s parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, had never opened the letter containing the letter explain the whole affair. . It had been sent to the Fenton household, but it was discarded as junk mail, with the Fentons assuming it was another complaint about their family, specifically Jack and Maddie’s eccentric, often controversial, scientific endeavors. No one realized the importance of the letter until much later.

The test results showed two key revelations that shocked both Danny and Jazz. First, the two were not biologically related at all. They were not sisters by blood. Second, the test revealed that one of Danny’s biological parents had Middle Eastern ancestry. This was a detail that Danny hadn’t known, nor had she ever suspected.

Meanwhile, as Danny was undergoing a strange and painful transformation, gaining her ghost powers and becoming a half-ghost, she unknowingly shared this moment with a significant event taking place far from Amity Park. On the other side of the world, John Constantine was battling demons. During one such fight, a particular demon expressed an intense fear, saying, “Are we really going through with this? I thought Lady Gotham would never agree to it. Hell, most of us demons don’t want to deal with her wrath.”

Constantine, intrigued, asked, “Why would a demon like you be afraid of Lady Gotham? I’ve met Batman and his insane family, and honestly, half the time, I don’t even believe they’re mortal. But what does Batman have to do with you? He doesn’t even know you.”

The demon paused, clearly shaken. “There was an event where Cronus ( Clockworks) called together all the demons, all the powerful beings, into the infinite realms. During that meeting, Cronus ( Clockworks) revealed one truth: the Ghost King will wake from his slumber. And only a warrior—not from the land of the living, nor from the Infinite realm—will be able to defeat him. This event will happen in every timeline Cronus has seen. But the parentage of the warrior changes with each timeline. This time, the warrior’s parentage is what scares us. Nobody wants to see the wrath of Lady Gotham.”

Constantine narrowed his eyes, sensing the gravity in the demon’s words. “What are you talking about?”

The demon continued, fear lacing its voice. “The decision that was made—bringing this individual, this warrior, into the fight—has caused a ripple effect across the ancient realms. Some of us, those who are eternal, those who have never known death, have already overstepped. Even some of the observers—beings who are supposed to remain neutral—have meddled. Now we have to deal with the consequences of our actions. And it’s not just us. It’s the entire infinite realm. We’re all doomed. Let us pray, Constantine, that the Ghost King never awakens. For when he does, and the warrior defeats him in single combat... that will be when all of our fears come to fruition. It will be the beginning of the end.”

Constantine’s stomach turned as the weight of the demon’s words settled in. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath.

“Deadly serious,” the demon replied. “What they’ve done… is beyond repair. And the worst part is, they didn’t even realize it. The actions of the living—specifically Lady Gotham and her vigilantes—have overstepped a boundary. The warriors of Gotham, the protectors, the police, the citizens—even the Joker—are all unknowingly playing a part in this colossal mistake. It wasn’t Darkside, or any of the other cosmic threats or even Supernatural threats that you and those Heroes have faced, that will bring about the end. NO It’s this one misstep. One moment of carelessness. One action, and now it’s too late.”

Constantine stood there, his mind racing. “This prophecy... It’s not just about one person, is it? It's about the whole damn city, the whole damn world.”

The demon nodded grimly. “Gotham is the key. And once the warrior rises, once the wrath of Lady Gotham is unleashed, nothing will stop it. Cronus himself is holding an emergency meeting about this, trying to figure out how to deal with it. And let me tell you—things are not looking good for anyone.”

Constantine cursed under his breath. He realized that the situation was far worse than he could have ever imagined. If the demon was right, and this prophecy was truly tied to Gotham, then they were all in serious trouble. And what terrified Constantine the most was the thought of Batman finding out that someone—someone he loved—was being manipulated, consciously or not. Batman didn’t care about the methods or the reasons; if anyone he cared about was caught up in a scheme like this, the consequences would be catastrophic.

“God help us,” Constantine muttered, more to himself than to the demon. “Because if this gets back to Gotham… none of us are getting out of this alive.”

So if this post gets a lot of likes I will make a part 2 continuing the story. Because this is something that has been stuck in my mind I just want to share it.

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Princess Treatment

Surprise! @almostempty I’m your secret santa!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it(:

Dave York x Nanny!reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: 18+, SMUT. We’ve got infidelity (dave is married w/kids hence the need for a nanny) threesome, two splash’s of cuck, a small side of pre ejaculation, double penetration, sprinkle of hidden camera, a facial and I think I got everything. Not beta’d, lightly proofed by me. All mistakes are mine.

Wc: 3663

And now, time for the main event

Good ole suburbia. Home sweet home. Perfectly built houses lined up and down the street, all filled with perfect little families. Well behaved children played in the front yards. Neighbors would throw bbq’s in the summer and invite everyone over. Wife’s sending their husbands off to work in the morning. Picture perfect. Of course it’s all a facade. The big blue house tucked back in the cul de sac is home to the York family. Dave and his wife Carol and their two daughters Molly and Alice. To the outside world, they are a beautiful family. Doting father of two with a government job and subservient wife who takes care of the kids and keeps the house clean and dinner on the table by 5 oclock sharp every night. They hired you about a year ago as a live in nanny. Dave is frequently going on business trips and Carol decided she wanted to go back to work and she would need the help with the girls. They were a lovely couple when you first interviewed. You always felt a more warm welcome from Dave than Carol. It was like she had a bad taste in her mouth around you.

You tried your best to ignore the weird vibes you got from her since you were mostly around her on a daily basis. For the most part it wasn’t that bad and you got paid a very pretty penny too which absolutely helped. About a month into living at the York house, you accidentally overheard Dave and Carol arguing. They were trying to keep it hush but you could make out that Carol didn’t like that Dave paid you as much as he did. It seemed like she was overall just bothered by your presence. After that you kinda just kept your head down and did everything expected of you and kept to yourself. You were in charge of getting the girls up in the morning and on the school bus, getting them off the bus in the afternoon and getting them to all their extracurriculars. Not too hard.

After a full year being the York’s nanny, you’ve grown quite close to Molly and Alice. You and Carol are cordial. And then there’s Dave. If tall, mysterious and handsome were an actual person, it would be Dave. He has this aura about him. You could never fully explain it but you could feel it. When he was at home, you felt safe but also felt like you could never shake the feeling that his eyes were always on you somehow. Even when he was away, you could still feel his eyes on you but it wasn’t as strong as when he was home. You’ll never forget the day you caught him blatantly staring down your shirt. You had been wearing a simple black tshirt with a v neck. When you had caught him staring you couldn’t help but be shocked and he just smirked at you as if to say “Yea I’m looking and what are you gonna do about it.” That night you gave into your deepest desire and you got yourself off multiple times thinking of Dave. Your poor fingers were cramped but you kept going. You’d been attracted to him since day 1 but you buried it deep due to the whole he’s a married man thing. You thought of his thick fingers fucking you, how he’d feel coming up behind you, bending you over and just making you take every inch of his dick. You fantasized him using you whenever, wherever. You came thinking about how good he’d feel as you cockwarmed him after a long day at the office.

There was a change in the air the next morning after this. It was a Sunday, which is your off day. You woke up around 6:30am, rolled out of bed and into the shower before getting dressed in a simple, cute black tshirt dress. As you walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, you noticed it was quiet. Quieter than normal for a Sunday morning in a household with two kids. No cartoons playing, no toys going off, no arguing over who’s turn it is to play with whatever the girls are currently obsessed with. As you rounded the corner, you saw Dave sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his hair still tousled from sleep.

“Good morning sleeping beauty, I know todays your day off but Carol decided to take the girls to go visit her parents last night so it’s just the two of us today.”

“Oh okay I was curious about the quiet.” You said with a soft giggle as you smiled at Dave before looking down at your feet. As hot as Dave is, it’s hard for you to hold eye contact with him for long. He has a strong, intimidating stare.

Dave goes to stand up and walks over to where your standing,

“Please, help yourself to anything in here. I’m sure you probably know what’s in here more than I do,” he chuckled, “if you need me I’ll be in my office.”

Looking up at him, you gulped and nodded, “Thank you Mr. York.”

Dave’s hand comes up to your face, his thumb and fore finger gently grab your chin as he makes you look at him.

“It’s Dave, sweet girl.”

“Dave” you repeat in a whisper. Knees weak from the proximity to your boss.

He flashes you a toothy smile and a wink before dropping his hand and stepping to the side to get around you to leave the kitchen.

The rest of the morning moves rather quietly into the afternoon when you hear a truck roar into the driveway. You sneak a peak out your bedroom window to see Dave’s friend, Frankie Morales, step out of his truck and make his way to the door on the side of the house that leads down into the basement. You’ve met Frankie a couple of times before. Old military buddy of Dave’s, pretty cute, single father of one. He doesn’t intimidate you like Dave does. He has a softer look, one that makes you wanna cook him meals and surprise him with head after work. You get the vibe he wouldn’t be the type to be overly dominant in the bedroom and on occasion that he does, he feels bad and apologizes immediately after. You like that though, you have a soft spot for men with a tough exterior that are really just big softies.

About an hour has passed since Frankie came over. You start to feel hungry so you decide to go see what Dave would like for dinner. As you go downstairs into the basement, you could hear music playing and the clank of balls being shot into the pockets of the pool table.

As you step off the last step before you even have time to make your presence known, both men stop what they’re doing and look up at you.

“Well speak of the devil, we were just talking about you princess. You’ve met my buddy Frankie before. Come on over, don’t be shy.” Dave has both hands on the pool table as he slightly leans over it. Frankie’s standing next to him, holding a pool stick. You cross the distance from the steps over to the pool table as you nibble on your bottom lip.

You stand across from the men and give them a soft smile as Dave picks up his stick and comes over by you. He lays his stick on the table just so and crouches down, getting eye level with the ball right before he pulls back and lets the stick shoot forward. His target falls into the corner pocket.

He looks up at you, smirking,

“You know how to play sweet girl?”

You shake your head no as Frankie comes over, now sandwiched between the two men.

“Here take my stick.” Frankie hands his stick over to you. As you grab it from him, his big hand covers yours as he reaches behind you and grabs your other hand and places it higher up on the stick. His broad frame covering you as he leans in closer, his face now next to yours.

“Bend down, you wanna be more eye level with the stick to see what angle it’ll hit the ball.”

“Okay” you say softly before taking your eyes off of him and bending over. Your eyes go wide as you feel his bulge press against your ass.

“Don’t overthink it too much or you’ll overshoot.” Dave’s smooth voice interrupted.

You can feel the heat of Dave’s body right next to you with Frankie’s body practically swallowing you whole. You try hard to focus on the game in front of you but in reality, you are zeroed in on the two men. Frankie moves the stick in your hands, you can feel it glide in between your fingers that are covered by his. Before you even realized, the stick shoots forward. The sound of the ball getting smacked and rolling into a pocket snapped you out of this trance you seem to be in.

“You know I was just telling Frankie here a funny story. I saw something last night and,” he chuckles, “I think you’d get a good laugh out of it too. Here,” he slides his phone into your line of sight, a video playing. The video shows a woman laying on a bed, legs spread as her fingers move in a circle on her clit. Her head thrown back, a breathy moan “oh Dave oh fuck me dave please”

Something about this is eerily familiar. After a few seconds it dawns on you.

Your eyes go wide and your face heats up as you watch you finger fuck yourself on your boss’ phone.

You can feel Frankie smile behind you as he takes the stick out of your hand and lays it on the table but still continues to stand behind you.

“Wanna tell me what this is about sweet girl?”

“I - I I I’m s- so sorry Mr York I - I’m not I promise I didn’t mean -“

Dave clicks his tongue as Frankie lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t try and lie to me. I watched you try and finger your poor abused little pussy all night long. Is that any way to treat her? I’m right down the hall baby. Could’ve sent me a text and told me to meet you in the bathroom since you were so needy.”

Your mouth dropped open, absolutely gobsmacked at what he just said. Frankie now fully grinding into your ass as he giggles at the scene in front of him. Dave gets up and walks over to the couch and sits down. Frankie follows his lead and sits on the chair that sits to the side, half facing the couch. Frozen in spot, it takes Dave to give you a come here movement with his fingers before you feel your legs carry your body over to where the men are sitting.

“Come sit on my lap honey. Let’s talk.”

You follow his orders, a part of you terrified your boss knows your deepest darkest secret and the other half hoping they both fuck your brains out. You move on autopilot as you turn to sit on his knee, doing your best to not put a lot of weight on his leg. Dave quickly puts an end to that as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you back on his lap. Your thin dress and his sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You can feel his hard on, plain as day.

“I’ve told you before, no need to be shy sweetheart. Spread those pretty legs of yours.”

You lean back against his chest as you look at him shyly before opening your legs for him. His big hands run up and down your thighs before pushing up your dress, revealing your soaked panties.

“Damn baby all this for me?” He says, eyes fixed on your pussy as he pulls them to the side.

“You don’t mind if he watches right?”

“N no”

Dave gives you a big grin, “Good.” His eyes go back down to watch as his fingers go up your wet seam. You watch his fingers as he slowly spreads your lips open, gently exploring your pussy.

“How many fingers you think she can take?”

Before you can even answer, Dave plunges two thick fingers deep inside you illicitly a gasp from you. His fingers alone are so thick, you feel yourself being stretched wide open on them. He moves them in and out at a slow pace as his other hand moves up to grope your tit.

Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps fingering you, pushing in and out, filling you up.

You manage to open your eyes and look over at Frankie. He was leaned back in the chair, manspreading as he palmed his hard cock.

Dave noticed you watching Frankie, taking his fingers out, “Frank, come here. Let’s see how much this tight little pussy can take.”

Frankie gets up and sits next to you and Dave before sliding his hand up your thigh,

“I don’t know Dave, I don’t think she can handle both of us.”

A horny demon seems to take over you and you quickly shake your head yes,

“I I can try”

For as eager as you are, you are equally nervous. You’ve never taken on two dicks at once but holy fuck are you turned on and wanna try.

Both men just smile, more so to themselves as Dave’s fingers pull one side of your pussy open and Frankie’s pulls the other side open. Dave’s the first to plunge a finger in and Frankie follows. They find a nice rhythm as their fingers move in and out. You throw your head back and let out a deep moan that you’ve been trying to hold back. Dave bites the side of your neck as he sinks another finger in. Your pussy convulses around the thick digits. Frankie pulls the top of your dress down and pulls your tit out, leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth. You can’t help but put your arm around his head and hold him close as he sucks your breast. The feeling of both of their fingers moving in tandem has you on the verge of tears.

“Oh fuck look at that baby, taking four fucking fingers. Soaking our fucking hands, goddamn baby that’s it.” As soon as Dave said that, you managed your best to look down and they both had two fingers plunged deep inside you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when you felt Dave’s other hand press on your lower stomach. It was like a light switch. You somehow felt them even deeper. The pressure from that and from their fingers moving amplified. Tears escaped your eyes, you couldn’t take much more. This deep build up inside of you clawing its way out. You had started to squirm, your ass now rubbing up and down Dave’s lap. Dave’s breath hitched in your ear.

“Breath baby, just breath, you’re doing so good. Come on breath with me.” Dave managed to get out in a hurried whisper, his own voice giving him away. Seeing you like this has him on the verge of his own orgasm. The friction of your ass rubbing against him added to the sight of you and knowing he’s the reason your falling apart.

A sob wracked through your entire body as your orgasm crashed into you. Your hips practically levitating

Frankie and Dave both watched as you gushed out, practically pushing their fingers out. Dave’s own moans finally coming out as his dick starts to spurt cum inside his sweat pants. His chest heaving as he pants in your ear, holding you close to him.

“Fuck that was hot.” Frankie said breathlessly before leaning in and claiming your lips with his. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you still felt disoriented but managed to kiss him back with as much fierceness as he had.

Frankie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. Your own body still trembling from the aftershocks of that mind blowing moment.

Frankie moved your hips up and down, causing you to grind against him while he continued to claim your lips with his. After a few moments he broke the kiss and made quick work of taking his dick out.

Out of breath and just barely getting ahold of yourself again, you look down at his throbbing cock as he gives it a few pumps before he’s pulling you back close again. You put your arms on his shoulders as he does the work for you, putting his dick right where you want him.

You’re so wet, you slide down his cock easily but the delicious burn of the stretch still makes your jaw drop as it takes your breath away.

Frankie’s head rolls back as his eyes close, feeling every inch of your pussy as he uses you like a fleshlight. Moving your hips up and down as he fucks you slowly. He knows he has a big dick and he doesn’t want to hurt you by going hard too fast. He takes his time and builds up speed before wrapping his arms around you and jack hammering his cock up into you. You collapse, hanging onto him as he makes you take his girthy dick. The two of you so lost in what you were doing, completely forgetting Dave sitting right next to you.

But Dave is very much enjoying the show. He’s pulled out his own cock using his cum as lube, stroking himself as he watches Frankie fuck you.

“Fffuckk that’s it baby, god look at you. What a fucking whore. I wish you could see how you look right now, fucking beautiful.” Dave starts to ramble as he works himself up again. His voice startles you a little as you try to lift your head and look over at him.

Frankie slows his thrusts down, grabbing your ass checks as he rolls his hips up. Grinding deep inside you.

Dave stands up and hets behind you. His big hand pushes on your back causing you to fall forward on Frankie.

You feel his finger probe your asshole, just barely poking in before he sinks in to the knuckle. Your poor pussy starts to convulse on Frankie’s dick, getting even wetter.

“Don’t get scared now baby, you can take us.” Dave said as he starts to move his finger in and out. He bends forward a little before pursing his lips and spitting. A wet splat lands in between your cheeks as he takes his finger out to move it down to your hole. Without notice he sticks a second finger in, slowly working you open. Frankie’s holding you tight to him, not moving inside you as his friend stretch’s you open so you can take both cocks at once.

Your face buried in Frankie’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as this amazing, full feeling washes over you. It’s so much having a cock in your pussy and feeling his fingers in your ass.

After a few minutes of getting you ready, Dave takes his fingers out. Spits on his hand to add to his already cum lubed dick. Guiding his cock to your back entrance, he slowly pushes the tip in. You gasp as all the air leaves your body. Clinging to Frankie as you try to accommodate both men.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Fucking beautiful.” Dave grunts out as he pushes all the way in. Once his cock is buried in your ass, you can feel him throb. Dave reaches up and gathers your hair in a ponytail before giving you an experimental grind. Slowly moving back out, he starts to fuck your ass. Frankie begins to thrust up into you. The two men quickly work up a rhythm, both cocks moving in and out, fucking you. Dave tugs on your hair, causing you to lift your head off Frankie’s shoulder and bend back. Loud moans tumble from your lips.

“There she is, look at you taking us sweet girl. Taking it so well, fuck.”

“She’s so wet Dave, I think she likes being stuffed with two dicks. Don’t you baby? Such a slutty little pussy, needs two men to fuck her properly huh?” Frankie groans as your pussy answers for you, tightening on his cock.

A symphony of grunts and moans fill the air, balls slapping against skin, cocks sliding in and out of your holes.

“Frank, I think we should give our girl a nice facial. To thank her for letting us use her pretty holes.”

“No better way to show our appreciation Dave.”

Dave pulls out and pulls you off of Frankie. Doing his best to gently guide you to your knees. Your own legs jelly from the most intense fuck of your life.

Both men stand in front of you, jerking their cocks in your face as you stick your tongue out as far as you can. Dave and Frankie both tap the tip of their cocks on your tongue. Frankie starts to spurt cum first, painting your face with thick globs hitting above your eye and on your tongue. Dave cums next, his hitting you on your cheek and around your mouth. Frankie scoops a little off your face, putting it in your mouth. Closing your mouth around his digits to suck them clean.

“Thank you” you say with a smile and the little bit of air you have left in your lungs.

The men look down at you and smile. They are going to throughly enjoy having you around.

[doberbutts]

I was a Girl Scout for about 7 or so years before my troop disbanded and my area couldn't find another leader until after I aged out, or else I would have stayed in the Scouts much longer.

I will say that at least when I was a Scout, I could see why a trans boy might be uncomfortable, as there is a LOT of emphasis on girlhood and sisterhood and being a girl growing into a woman etc. And there may be a question about how appropriate it is for him to be sharing the same sleeping areas and changing areas as the girls as these kids age and puberty behinds to happen.

However. However. The Girl Scouts have already declared that they are friendly to trans girls and will accept them in direct opposition to the Boy Scouts original stance on trans youth as an organization, and the opposition to *that* was pretty much verbatim: what happens when a trans girl goes through puberty and is still using the same changing areas and cabins and such as the cis girls. And the Girl Scouts pretty much went "w/e we'll figure it out, girls are girls so anyone who is a girl can stay" and to my knowledge that's pretty much as far as it went.

(Also at least when my troop went camping, we went with the local Boy Scout troop and so we had "boy bathrooms" and "girl bathrooms" and "boy cabins" and "girl cabins" so it's not even that hard to like. Just have the kid use the correct bathroom and cabin for their gender. But perhaps other troops don't coordinate like that.)

So it's... odd, to me, to say that reacting negatively to this case of a trans boy is, hmm, "saying trans men can be everywhere but trans women can be nowhere" because it's more or less the opposite that's happening to this kid. The Boy Scouts took much longer to accept trans boys than the Girl Scouts did to accept trans girls, which means there's a fairly high chance that this particular kid likely *already had made connections in his local GS troop and didn't want to uproot his social group*.

This is important and needs some keeping in mind- because this kid was 17, and has been part of his GS troop since he was 6, and Boy Scouts only started allowing trans boys on a case-by-case basis... 7 years ago. So he was 10, and already well-secured in his troop community, when the Boy Scouts had a shaky at best policy, in a super red area that likely *would not* have approved his entry regardless of what the Council said, much like they did for other trans boys *that same calendar year*.

So... to be clear, we're asking a 9-11 year old depending on exact birthdays to give up all their friends on a solid maybe that, considering the area, almost guarantees he's going to at least get beaten up and bullied... because that is just good transgender-friendly praxis. Yeah. OK.

We also don't know how long he's been out, or even known he was transgender, so it's very possible that his social transition is much more recent than that even, which gives him even longer to have formed connections.

And *then* you add that usually your Scout troop is your local community, so he may very well have known boys within his local Boy Scout troop that were known to not be kind to queer kids and din't want the trouble. I can tell you that the girls in my troop clocked me well before I even knew the word transgender and were not kind to me about it, and I lived in an equally red part of the same state.

folks if you can't conceive of a world in which both trans boys and trans girls are able to exist in the same space that's like. your problem. i actually think it's incredibly easy for the girl scouts to both be fully inclusive of trans girls AND any trans boys who want to participate in it, especially if they were a scout pre transition and that is where all of their friends and support comes from. or if there are no boy scouts nearby. or if they are nonbinary and assigned whatever at birth and want to be in a scouting troup and girl scouts seems more affirming than boy scouts. why do Y'ALL feel like trans girls can only be affirmed through binarism. why are y'all so uncharitable to trans boys.

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

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Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

Today, he made up his mind to pay a visit to the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He wanted to witness the pinnacle of jujutsu for himself. To see, with his own eyes, what someone truly blessed—in all the ways he isn’t —can amount to.   

Toji was already surprised that Satoru took note of him. Never in his life has anyone else been able to do that. It seems it really is true. That a mere child possesses power beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. However, right now, he’s surprised for a different reason entirely.   

And of course, that reason is you .   

Toji blinks. He can’t help but wonder if he must be imagining things. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. There’s no rational explanation for what’s happening. Did some strange little girl seriously just walk up to him and ask for his help?   

“What,” Toji simply replies. It’s not even really a question. Rather, he’s in disbelief. And you’re still standing in front of him, looking up at him with hope and admiration.   

To be honest, no one has ever looked at him that way.  

“I want to become strong, just like you,” you repeat, and even now, your smile shows no signs of disappearing. “Since you don’t have any cursed energy, by any chance, do you… fight using cursed tools? Because I’d like to try learning how to use them as well. I’ve been looking for someone to help train me.”   

Satoru gapes at you. “Uh, [Name]? What are you saying? You can’t just ask some random weirdo to train you! We don’t even know who he is!”   

“It’s not nice to call people weirdos, Satoru. Especially when you barely know them.”   

“Either way, he’s still a stranger! Why did you even walk up to him in the first place? You’re seriously crazy!”   

Toji blinks yet again. Is this… some kind of joke? A comedy routine? Standing right in front of him is Gojo Satoru, hailed as the pride and joy of the jujutsu world. Even as young as he currently is, he can go head-to-head with the most formidable, elite sorcerers—and not only that, but he’d win .   

A few moments ago, Toji felt a chill in the air, and it wasn’t due to the cold winter breeze. When Satoru turned towards him, with those eerie, piercing blue eyes of his, Toji immediately felt inferior. Even more so than he already did. He’s not the type to get intimidated, and yet, there was no denying the sheer pressure behind that young boy’s gaze.  

Except now, that pressure is gone.   

All Toji sees is two stupid, bickering kids.   

“We’re leaving,” Satoru grits out. He glares pointedly up at Toji, still with his little arms wrapped around you, and the expression he makes is juvenile, or rather, childish . Because technically, he is a child.   

Toji just stands there with a frown. He’s heard of Gojo Satoru, of course, but he has absolutely no idea who you’re supposed to be. A relative, perhaps? Or a friend? But you just said that you’re not strong. That’s why you want to get stronger. Would the Gojo Clan really permit their prized jewel to waste time frolicking with some talentless little brat?   

“I can’t leave yet,” you insist. Satoru tries to pull you along, but you root your feet firmly into the ground, making it clear that you’re not going anywhere. Then you look back at Toji and smile once again. “What do you say, mister? Would you be willing to help train me? I’m [Name], by the way. What’s your name?”   

“Stop it!” Satoru fumes. “You shouldn’t go around telling strangers your name!”   

“But you already said my name earlier, and he obviously heard it. Silly Satoru. Always getting worked up for no reason. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch and learn.”   

You grin confidently, and Toji can’t help but marvel at your idiocy. Or perhaps it’s lunacy. Either way, it doesn’t make much of a difference.   

“No,” he replies, watching as your expression drops. “Why should I train some brat I just met? You must have lived a very sheltered life until now, if you feel comfortable going around asking others for favors.”   

Satoru furiously grinds his teeth together. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about her. Rotten old fart. [Name]’s life has been anything but sheltered. If you don’t shut up, I’ll kick your ass.”  

“I’m nowhere near as old as you seem to think I am,” Toji scowls.   

Whatever. He’s had enough foolishness for one day. He already did what he set out to do. He came here to steal a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, and all it did was sour his mood even more. He’s better off walking away before he loses his temper.   

And so, he leaves. Or at least, he tries to.   

You’ve grabbed onto his arm and are refusing to let go.   

“Please at least hear me out, mister,” you insist. Toji stares down at you in stark disbelief, and meanwhile, Satoru outright gasps. Honestly, he kind of looks like he’s about to pass out. Your never-ending antics really aren’t good for his heart.   

It’s absurd. Two little kids are basically playing tug-of-war at Toji’s expense. Of course, he could push you back with ease, although something tells him the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Which just makes it even more tempting, truthfully. Toji already resents the world of jujutsu as it is. Perhaps purposefully angering Gojo Satoru, even at the risk of his own life, might give him some relief.   

He could do it. He could pick a fight if he really wanted to. Also, there’s no guarantee he’d lose. Maybe he should give it a try. If he were to somehow win against this spoiled brat who’s been blessed with everything he could ever dream of… maybe finally, the Zen’in Clan would acknowledge him.   

The longer Toji stares into Satoru’s pale, blindingly blue eyes, the more he feels like testing his luck. The more he itches to bring the world of jujutsu sorcerers, and everything it stands for, crumbling into pieces.   

But he doesn’t.   

Your next words resonate with him more than he could ever have imagined.   

“My family hated me because I was so weak,” you say, keeping your little hands tightly wrapped around Toji’s arm as you stare up at him, gaze solemn and determined. “They told me I was worthless, and that I would never amount to anything. My dad beat me really badly one day because he was so embarrassed of me. I’m sure it would have kept happening if Satoru hadn’t offered to let me live with him instead. I might not have zero cursed energy, like you, but I barely have enough to qualify as a sorcerer, and everyone always looks down on me for it. I think it’s unfair how some people get judged and cast aside, before they get the chance to prove themselves. Even if you don’t have any cursed energy, it’s obvious to me that you’re really strong. And it makes me feel like I could maybe be strong one day, too. I know it probably sounds like a hassle, but is there even a chance you might consider it? I could—oh, I know! I could pay you. Would you do it then? If I paid you enough?”  

Yet again, Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

“Um… unfortunately, this is all I have on me right now.” You dig into your yukata and pull out a few wrapped candies, then gently place them into Toji’s open palm. He blinks, incredulous, as you smile once more. “I’ll pay you with real money, of course. Think of these candies as a promise, or like a down payment. I live with the Gojo Clan, and they’ve got a lot of money. If you agree to help train me, you might even become rich.”   

Satoru’s jaw couldn’t possibly be hanging any lower. “[Name], what the hell? I just told you to leave this geezer alone, and now you’re saying you’re going to pay him?!”  

“Well, I wouldn’t be the one paying, technically. Your relatives would.”   

“And you’re just assuming they’ll go along with this?!”   

“Maybe. If you do a good job of convincing them.”   

You grin widely. Toji is quickly realizing that you’re a cheeky little brat, and apparently, even Gojo Satoru doesn’t quite know how to handle you. Not that it stops him from trying, though. Satoru grits his teeth as he struggles to pull you back. He must be consciously avoiding using his cursed energy, so as not to hurt you even a little. But without it, he’s physically no stronger than an ordinary seven-year-old kid. It also doesn’t help that you’ve latched onto Toji with seemingly all the strength you can muster.  

God. This situation is so ridiculous, it’s almost laughable.   

“I’m not going!” you insist, burying your face in the sleeves of Toji’s kimono as he sighs irritably. “You can’t make me, Satoru! I need to hear how this nice mister responds first! And even if he says no again, I’m going to stay here until I change his mind!”   

Toji knits his brows together. “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions by assuming I’m nice?”  

“Oh. Maybe. But I like to try and stay optimistic,” you beam.   

 “It’s called being dumb , not optimistic,” Satoru grimaces. “We seriously need to go , already! You’re taking things too far!”   

He must have just mustered up the nerve to strengthen himself using cursed energy, because finally, he manages to pull you away from Toji. You stumble backwards, losing your balance in the process, but Satoru catches you in his arms and holds you tight, refusing to let you break free again.   

Strange. Toji always imagined that the strongest would be elevated above everyone else, detached from reality, seemingly in a world of their own. Like some kind of deity, so to speak. At least, based on the way that everyone seems to worship him.   

But he’s actually… surprisingly human. He has someone he cherishes deeply and strives to protect.   

Toji isn’t quite sure whether that makes him feel better or worse.   

“You’re awfully chatty, even for a kid,” Toji remarks. He stares down at the candies you just placed in his hand, but rather than handing them back to you or tossing them aside, he just shrugs and places them in his pocket. “You asked what my name was, didn’t you? It’s Zen’in Toji. You and that boy both belong to the Gojo Clan, so you must understand what this means. Our clans despise each other. Even if I agreed to help you, do you really think they would allow such a thing?”   

Right. You remember that was briefly touched on in the series. It had something to do with the former clan heads having killed each other in the past. The Gojo Clan and the Zen’in Clan have some particularly bad blood between them.  

Then again, the past is the past. What’s done is already done. There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change.   

You must constantly face forward, towards the future .   

Toji can’t possibly understand it, and neither can Satoru, for that matter, but it’s okay. You’ve already decided that this will be your burden to bear. So, yeah. You could care less about a petty feud between clans. It’s nowhere near enough to deter you or keep you from accomplishing what you’ve set out to do.   

“Yeah. I’ve heard about it. I know that the Gojo Clan and Zen’in Clan don’t like each other,” you say.  

Toji nods. “Good. So, that means you understand how—”   

“I don’t really care, though.”   

“...what?”   

“I don’t care,” you repeat, and Toji can’t help the way his eyes widen. “How is it my fault that something like that happened a long time ago? It’s not like I was involved. It’s not like any of the people still alive today were involved either. Honestly, most jujutsu sorcerers are stupid. They care about stupid things and look down on others just because they don’t align with what they think is right. They can be upset if they want to be. I’m not trying to become stronger because I want anyone’s approval. I’m doing it because it’s important to me. So that I can protect the people I care about and make a difference. Even if others still consider me to be weak, based on their first impression of me… it’s fine. Because I’ll know they’re wrong. And that’s enough.”   

It really is absurd. What are you, six, seven years old? You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to be naive and ignorant to the harsh reality of the world.   

Yet, ironically, you sound more mature and clear-minded than any of the shitty, elitist adults Toji has ever known.   

This time, he really can’t help it.   

He laughs.   

“Haha… ha!” Toji throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as the laughter rumbles up from deep inside his belly. It’s honestly cathartic. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he laughed at all .   

Satoru pulls you even further back and shudders. “Ugh. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. [Name], I’m telling you, he’s bad news.”   

“If he wanted to hurt me, I’m sure he would have already done it by now,” you shrug.   

“What kind of reasoning is that…?”   

“Ah, that’s funny,” Toji keeps on laughing. He pauses to wipe the small tears that have formed in his eyes, then grins. “I didn’t know kids could be so entertaining. You seem much smarter than I initially gave you credit for. You’re probably smarter than the entire Zen’in Clan. Those bastards can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”   

“Now he’s even comparing heads and asses,” Satoru whispers in your ear. “I’m starting to think he might be a pervert, too.”   

Toji slowly turns away. “Don’t change your way of thinking. It’d be a shame. You’re right that jujutsu sorcerers are all a bunch of idiots. This whole world they’ve built up is a joke. Like you said, they refuse to acknowledge anything that doesn’t align with their own beliefs. They’re all pathetic, narrow-minded scum.”   

Wow. Is Toji really venting to you right now? Meeting Satoru was one thing, but surely, you could never have been prepared for something like this .   

It makes you happy, though. If it brings him even a little bit of relief, you’ll gladly listen to him complain, over and over again.   

“Goodbye, strange little girl,” Toji chuckles. “[Name], you said? I’ll remember it. This day turned out to be unexpectedly amusing.”   

“Oh. You’re leaving? But… you never answered my question,” you frown. “Will you help train me? Or at the very least, will you try to consider it?”   

Toji is already walking away, waving you off with the back of his hand, and Satoru will be damned if he lets you chase after him again.   

Still, all things considered, this encounter went a lot better than you thought it would. It was a long shot anyway. At least you tried.   

What you don’t realize, however, is that Toji is still thinking of his meeting with you, even by the time he returns back to the Zen’in estate. He remembers your words from before, and as he passes by several clan members, somehow, their scornful looks don’t bother him quite as much as they used to.   

It’s a momentary reprieve, but he’s grateful for it.   

“Are you… Toji?”   

Toji turns his head. He’s sitting out in the courtyard, and a child has just walked up to him. He seems to be having lots of encounters with children today, for whatever reason. Although this child isn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. He recognizes him based on his appearance. After all, he’s the one rumored to take over as the leader of the clan one day. The youngest son of Zen’in Naobito. Naoya.  

Toji doesn’t bother responding. He just stares at him, with a sharp, unwavering gaze, and Naoya immediately freezes up.  

Truth be told, Naoya came here to mock Toji. He planned on finally seeing for himself what the infamous man with no cursed energy was like. He wanted to get a glimpse of his sad, pitiful expression. To ridicule someone weaker than him.  

Except Naoya can’t seem to do that, because just by looking at Toji, he can tell.  

This man is strong .   

Toji eventually turns away, still without uttering a single word, and Noaya watches as Toji pulls out the candies you handed him earlier. He stares at them, then chuckles. He isn’t unwrapping them to eat them or anything. It’s also strange that the coldness in his gaze has suddenly disappeared. His expression looks a bit more gentle now.   

Naoya swallows the lump in his throat and awkwardly approaches. “Is that candy? Do you… like sweets?”   

“Hm? No, not really.”  

“Oh. Then what’s the candy for?”   

Toji continues staring down at the palm of his hand. The silence feels unsettling to Naoya, especially because of the immense pressure Toji constantly exudes, but eventually, another chuckle can be heard.   

“This isn’t just candy,” Toji muses. “It’s… a down payment.” 

No matter how hard you try, there are bound to be some instances where things don’t work out the way you want them to.   

Based on how Toji walked off without giving you a proper answer, naturally, you figure it’s a done deal. It’s disappointing, of course, because you dared to imagine a world in which Toji doesn’t go on to commit atrocities, but not everything can be changed. Not always.   

You’re in for one hell of a surprise, though.   

“...he’s here,” Satoru mumbles one day, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch as his eyes widen, and he turns his head towards the entrance of the estate. “That man we met a while ago. The one with no cursed energy. He’s here .”   

“What?”   

You can’t quite believe it—at least, not until you walk past all the buildings and see him with your own eyes.   

Once again, Toji stands in front of you.  

“Yay, Toji! You really came!”   

Without even thinking twice, you run up to him and attempt to wrap your little arms around his broad frame. Toji stands there, looking slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t try to push you away, and that has to count for something, right?   

Satoru, however, looks like he’s about to throw a fit.   

“[Name]!” he fumes. “Why are you hugging that creepy old guy? It’s inappropriate! And besides, you should only be hugging me !”   

Despite Satoru’s protests, you continue to cling to Toji, because even if he’ll never admit it, you know that he could really, really use a hug.   

Satoru mashes his teeth together in frustration, and he even shakes his small fist in the air. Which is probably intended to be a warning, but he’s ridiculously cute, so it’s not too effective, in your opinion.  

Naturally, all of this commotion draws other people towards the source, and soon, you find yourself surrounded by several Gojo clan members.   

One of them gestures to you with a frown. “[Name]? Who is that man? Why did he just show up here all of a sudden?”   

“You fool. Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” another clan member mutters in distaste. “He… has absolutely no cursed energy. And that scar across his lip. It must be him . The failure of the Zen’in Clan. Zen’in Toji.”   

The atmosphere shifts all too suddenly. Everyone’s expressions are laden with disgust. Not only because of the general disdain sorcerers have towards those deemed as ‘weak’, but also due to the fact that he’s a Zen’in. In the eyes of the Gojo Clan, that’s the worst possible combination.   

Toji chuckles as he pats you on the head. “Not quite the welcoming I was hoping for. It seems not everyone is as friendly as you are, [Name].”   

Honestly, you can’t even really focus on the tension right now, because Toji just patted you on the head.   

Hehe. I’m happy.   

“State your business,” one of the clan members mutters. “You should know better than to show up unannounced.”   

“Well, that’s rude. Especially when I’m here to do one of you a favor.” Everyone blinks, clearly in disbelief, as Toji peers down at you. “Right, [Name]? Didn’t you ask me to help train you before?”   

“R-Really? You’ll… actually do it?”   

You marvel at the sudden declaration. Of course, the clan members are becoming more infuriated by the second, and Satoru doesn’t look too happy about it either. He actually looks like he’s itching to kick Toji in the nuts.   

A clan member steps forward, teeth bared. “Under no circumstances will a member of the Zen’in Clan have any part in—”   

“Shut up,” Satoru glares. “Let [Name] speak. I want to hear what she has to say first.”   

He turns back towards you, and even though he clearly has his doubts about Toji, for your sake, he might be willing to give him a chance.   

“Well? Are you sure you really want this guy to train you? Does it have to be him?”  

You look up at Toji. Admittedly, his character was far from innocent in the canon series. He chose to abandon his son and become an assassin. Nobody forced that life upon him. Ultimately, his demise was his own doing.   

But it probably wouldn’t have happened if only he’d been accepted in the first place. If only he hadn’t been treated like an outcast and made to resent the world he grew up in.   

Even though you might not succeed, you’re going to try and help him.   

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, hugging Toji even tighter than before. “I don’t want anyone else to teach me. It has to be him.”   

Satoru sighs. He wishes you didn’t have to make things so difficult. He’s never had a friend before, but ever since you stepped into his life, he’s been worrying about you practically nonstop. You’re honestly quite the hassle.   

But then again, you’re worth it.   

“And are you going to train her properly?” Satoru asks, now addressing Toji with a stern gaze. “I’m telling you right now, but you’re not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit. I’m going to be watching your training sessions to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. If at any point she’s in danger… I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”   

Toji shrugs. “Sure. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn’t know how to hold back against a little kid.”   

Satoru stares at Toji for a while longer, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but you’ve spent enough time with him by now to be able to read his expressions, and you can tell that he’s just about to give in.   

Finally, he nods.   

“Okay, then. You can train [Name]. I give you permission.”   

Your eyes light up, and you even let out a squeal of delight as you excitedly jump in place, still clinging to Toji all the while. He obviously doesn’t react with the same kind of enthusiasm, but as he looks down at your tiny little frame, he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even if you’re just a little kid, it feels nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.  

It would be great if you could just wrap this up on a high note, but of course, things are never that easy.   

“Master Satoru,” one of the clan members gapes. “What in the world are you saying? We refuse to condone this. The nerve of this talentless Zen’in trash to even step foot here, let alone insert himself into your lives… it’s ludicrous. We simply won’t hear of it.”   

You frown. “But I promised to pay Toji in exchange for him training me. Why is it such a big deal? Clans should be helping each other out, not hating each other. It would be way more productive if everyone cooperated. Isn’t our goal supposed to be getting rid of curses and keeping people safe?”    

“You want to pay him? Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”   

“Uh oh,” Toji chuckles, messily ruffling your hair. “It looks like they’re getting really angry now. I guess it’s a good thing I decided that I don’t actually need to be paid.”   

You blink, incredulous. “You… don’t?”   

“No. It’s fine. If doing this pisses off your clan, as well as those in the Zen’in Clan… that’s already more than enough for me.”  

A prideful smirk sweeps across Toji’s face. It looks like he wants to stick it to the man, so to speak. He’d much rather get under the skin of those who’ve wronged him than have some extra cash to spend. Well, not that you care exactly what his motivations are. He’s agreed to help you, and that’s already more than enough.   

One of the clan members takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the next moment, you can tell that their cursed energy has spiked.   

“ Leave ,” they demand. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to—”   

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”   

It’s Satoru, of course. He’s staring at them with an irritable expression, and he even walks up to you and Toji and assumes a protective stance.   

“[Name] says she wants this guy to train her, so he’s going to train her,” Satoru mutters. “I’m not too happy about it either, but this is what she’s decided, so I’m going to support her. If any of you have a problem with that, we can just leave. I’ll take [Name] far, far away from here and never come back. I’ll leave the Gojo Clan forever. Is that what you want?”   

Neither of them respond, but you can tell that internally, they’re panicking. Sure enough, if Satoru really wanted to, he could overpower everyone here and do as he pleases. There’s no way to force him into anything. All of his diligence towards his training up until now… he’s been doing it out of a sense of obligation, not because he doesn’t have the strength to object. He’s been going along with everyone’s demands because he’s the strongest. Because the fate of the world hangs on his shoulders.  

When it comes to you, however, he can be awfully selfish. And everyone in the Gojo Clan already knows that.   

“...fine.”   

Their faces are bitter, ashamed, and resentful, but nevertheless, they have no choice but to concede. The embarrassment of relying on a Zen’in Clan member is nothing compared to the risk of losing Gojo Satoru.  

You smile yet again. So, it’s really happening. You’re not sure how, but you actually managed to pull it off.   

From this moment onward, Toji is your mentor.   

“I’ll do my best,” you beam, eyes brighter than ever. “I’ll train my butt off, and I promise I won’t ever complain, no matter how hard it gets. You’re going to be super impressed. Just wait and see!”   

Perhaps this is nothing more than the silly, idealistic ramblings of an ignorant child. Children like to say all kinds of things, after all. They make big, grandiose promises that they can’t keep. And they constantly exaggerate, making their feats seem larger than life itself.  

And yet, Toji feels inclined to believe you.   

“Very well,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ll hold you to that, so show me. Show me… how you’re going to prove everyone wrong.”