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shuadotcom · 2 months

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In Case You Didn’t Know (M)

Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

Genres: Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst | AUs: Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au

Rating: 18+(MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) | Words: 28.8k 🥴

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, will-they-won’t-they tension, a scene of reader x Lee Minhyuk (suggestive) and reader x Joshua (romantic) | Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, good boy), service top!Chan

Note: Written for the Now That’s 90s collab hosted by @beomcoups & @mingsolo ! I wanted to get this out for Christmas but my brain had other plans. I wanted to invoke a kind of cheesy Christmas romance movie feel to this while still keeping it 90s so that’s the vibe we’re going for! Thank you to the always amazing @wongyuseokie for the lovely banner 💙 And thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta reading my word vomit and helping me come up with this title! I love and appreciate you very much my beta/fic title queen! 💖 Also, I want to give giant sappy thank yous, hugs, and kisses to Bee, @horanghater, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil for all giving me pep talks and offering support throughout the process of this fic coming to exist. It’s my longest fic ever and I wanted to start over so many more times than I did so I appreciate and love y’all v much!! 🥹💞🫶🏽

“Miss? We’re here,” The taxi driver's voice wakes you, bleary eyes focusing on the apartment building outside the car window. You hadn’t been sleeping that long, but it was long enough to make you tired after your fifteen-hour flight to Seoul. That, coupled with the heat of the taxi made you cozy enough to nap, but you’re finally looking forward to being out of a moving vehicle.

As the taxi driver unloads your suitcases from the trunk, you step out into the cold September air, and triple-check the address of the apartment building, comparing the number on the building in front of you to what’s written in your planner in hand. You had verified the address with your step-brother each time the two of you spoke on the phone leading up to your flight to Korea.

When you originally told Hansol that you decided that you were ready to quit your flight attendant career and move back home, your original plan was to move back in with your parents. Going into it, you knew well enough that the move would be annoying. You loved your mom and stepdad, but your mom was a bit of a helicopter mom growing up, so you can only imagine what living under her roof again would be like.

Luckily, you and your brother have always gotten along and been close, so instead of subjecting you to moving back home, he offered to let you move in with him and his roommate. Their third roommate was planning on moving out to live with his partner, so his room would be open for the taking.

“It’d be so much easier than putting an ad in the paper or online and interviewing strangers. You and Chan are cool right?” Hansol had asked, referring to his other roommate. Lee Chan was one of his best friends since you all were kids. Other than his very loud and very obvious crush on you, you had no problem with Chan and gladly accepted the room offer.

After you and your brother made a plan for you to move in, you contacted your oldest and closest friend who had offered you job opportunities before, citing if you ever wanted to move back to South Korea, she would do her damndest to get you something. Needless to say, she was thrilled to hear your voice when you finally called and broke the news.

The planning to get here seemed like it took forever, but now that you’re back with your feet on Seoul soil, you were happy. The journey of closing this chapter of your life was wrapping up. Now you will have a chance at doing something different for the next part of your life.

With both full-to-the-brim suitcases in hand, you roll them behind you into the building and to the elevator. The ride to the third floor is short and the walk to your brother’s apartment is even shorter.

Just as he had instructed, you lift the welcome mat to find a key waiting for you and use it to let yourself in.

“Han?” You call your brother’s name once inside but don’t get a response. You can hear water running down the hall and see shoes by the door so he’s obviously home.

Your eyes sweep over the living room as you take off your coat and boots. You’re surprised at just how clean the apartment is with two men in their mid-twenties living in it. The couch is a simple black fabric three-seater with a matching chair off to the side. A brown wood coffee table sits in front of both with a few magazines and two remotes on it. Presumably, for the TV and VCR sitting across the room from the seating.

You had half expected to see clothes and movies strewn across the floor and furniture, but there’s none of that in sight.

After hanging your coat on the rack by the door and leaving your boots with the other pair, you leave your suitcases in the foyer and start down the hallway, heading for what you assume is the bathroom. You’re not sure which room is Hansol’s, but he mentioned that he’d be home when you got in, so you plan on poking your head into each door until you find the one that so obviously screams Chwe Hansol.

The water cuts off in the bathroom as your socked feet pad across the carpet and you make a pitstop at the bathroom, figuring you’ll just meet your brother there instead.

“Hansol?” You raise a hand to knock on the door at the same time that it swings open. It is most certainly not your brother on the other side.

Out of the bathroom, clad in only a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, steps your brother’s roommate and best friend Lee Chan.

The same Lee Chan that you’ve known since he was in grade school when his hair was spiked, his eyes were too far apart and his head was too big for his body. The same one that’s been hopelessly in love with you since he and his family moved in next door to you and Hansol when he was ten. You of course have had to turn him down all of your life. Other than the fact that he’s a few years younger than you, he was always just your brother’s awkward but sweet best friend. You remember exactly how he looked and how he acted - like a kid.

This Lee Chan though is different. This Lee Chan very clearly works out. His arms are muscular and buff. He has defined pecs and abs that are still covered in flecks of water that are dripping down his built body. Dripping down to the light dusting of hair leading from his belly button and underneath the towel.

This Lee Chan has a strong jaw, pouty lips, and dark hair that hangs in his eyes. This Lee Chan is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life - and a man he most certainly is. Your eyes unabashedly sweep over his mouth-watering frame until you meet his brown eyes and you remember instantly that this is still the Lee Chan that you should absolutely not be looking at like this.

“Oh! Y/n!” His voice is much deeper than you remember and it sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“Chan! Sorry, I thought you were Hansol! He said he’d be home when I got in.” You clear your throat, trying to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh yeah, he got called into work at the last minute. He left you a note on the fridge.”

“Oh, okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, neither of you speaking.

“Well uh, let me get dressed and then I can give you a tour of the apartment and your room. I’m heading out soon to meet up with some friends, but I have time.”

“Only if you want to! I don't want to hold you up!”

“You won’t, promise! Just give me a few minutes.”

Chan flashes you a smile that fills up his whole face and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks.

You nod and scurry to the opposite side of the hallway, realizing that you’re still trapping him in the doorway of the bathroom. You watch him walk into what you can only assume is his room and go back into the living room, waiting for him on the couch.

You’re thankful for him needing to take a few minutes because you need some time yourself as well. The fact that this man is the same boy that you grew up alongside is a lot to wrap your head around.

The two of you have always gotten along. He was a sweet kid even though all he did was follow you around at any moment he could. He was funny and probably one of Hansol’s most respectful friends which you appreciate, given that his friend group was all just a bunch of rowdy boys, but you’ve never thought about him like that in all the time that you knew him.

Over the years, there have been a few times where you’d see him in pictures your mom would email or mail to you whenever you were somewhere for a long period of time. The last time you’d come home for the holidays was three years ago and you saw Chan briefly, but from what you recall, he just looked like some guy to you when you had seen him. He did not look like this then and he certainly hadn’t been this good-looking growing up or maybe you would have entertained something with him.

That thought is only fleeting and you have to calm your heart (and your pussy) from reacting to seeing him like this. He’s still your little brother’s best friend and he’s now your roommate, and in no way can anything happen. That is messy on so many levels.

This sudden onslaught of want has to be because you’re just that desperate for a romantic connection with someone. Or you just need to get laid. Trying to maintain any semblance of a relationship in your line of work proved to be harder than you’d think.

For the past almost 10 years of working in the sky, you’ve had your fair share of hookups here and there. Your last was a fun, albeit messy, fling with a new pilot you were often on the same flights with named Kevin. He was handsome and funny and easy to get along with, but that didn’t end well, seeing how he got right to work hooking up with all the other flight attendants on his flights. You weren’t sure if commitment in the form of officially being boyfriend and girlfriend was what you wanted with him, but you had gone out of your way to make sure you weren’t sleeping around or seeing other people when the two of you got together. He didn’t agree with that.

Before Kevin, there was another flight attendant you were often on the same flights as. Krystal was sweet and the two of you had grown close, but she wanted to keep your relationship a secret from everyone all of the time. You had known going into it that you were still in a time where people were weird about queer people, but you also didn’t care that much. She did though, and ended up calling it off mostly due to paranoia.

Then there was the wealthy businessman, Jacob. He was an amazing guy and an even more amazing lay, but he wanted you to quit your job and move to Canada with him. This was a bit earlier in your career so you were nowhere near ready to abandon it all. He didn’t like that and would get into huge fights with you about it until you finally broke it off.

There were other tries and fails, but the moral of the story is that dating was damn near impossible for you for most of your adult life. Now that you’re planning on finally settling somewhere, you need to get back onto the dating scene and stop lusting over someone you should not be drooling over.

Chan comes out of his room then, dressed and hair styled. He’s clad in denim jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt and somehow your eyes still sweep over him as if he’s still standing in front of you in a towel.

He doesn’t seem to notice your ogling since he simply flashes you a wide smile and beckons you to follow him into the next room.

“So, the apartment isn’t anything too fancy. We’ve got the kitchen around the corner here; if you go through that door, that’s the balcony. There’s a couple of chairs and a drying rack out there - nothing very interesting.” He points around the simple kitchen, gesturing to the sliding door next to the fridge leading to the balcony. Chan walks in front of you again to lead you back out into the living room and you can’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. The warm, woodsy scent makes you groan internally, and yet again, you need to check yourself.

He gestures to the living room, mentioning the entertainment center and their VHS collection. He mentions that your brother made a space for you under the sink in the bathroom for you to put some of your things. Chan points out the small closet next to the bathroom where they keep extra towels and linens and the washing machine which sits in a small nook next to that closet.

The room directly across from the bathroom belongs to Hansol, and when looking inside you see that’s obvious. Posters line the walls and CDs and books are piled on the dark wood desk in the corner. Clothes are strewn about on the floor along with a few pairs of sneakers. Since the rest of the apartment is cleaned up, clearly Hansol reserves the mess for his own space.

The second room next to Hansol’s is Chan’s. He lets you poke your head in and you’re surprised at how neat it is, much like the main area of the apartment. It’s safe to assume that Chan must be in charge of keeping things neat or at least keeping your notoriously messy brother in line.

The last room at the end of the hall is yours. It previously belonged to Seungkwan, another one of Hansol’s best friends and their former roommate. It’s clean and neat, with a desk against the wall on one side and a made-up bed on the other. A dresser sits near the closet next to a full-length mirror. Otherwise, there’s not much else in it.

“Oh! Let me grab your bags! I should’ve offered.” Chan ignores your protest telling him not to worry about it and goes to get your suitcases anyway.

He wheels them down the hall and into your room as you grab your backpack and purse and follow behind him.

“Thanks, Chan.” He leaves your luggage by the door and smiles at you again.

“No worries, Y/n,” Chan checks his watch before announcing that he’s about to leave. “ If you need anything, Hansol should be back later this afternoon and I know he keeps the number to his work line on the fridge. I’ll probably be home in the evening, but otherwise, the apartment is yours since you live here now.” Chan waves at you as he leaves your room and you take a seat on the chair in front of the desk, listening as he collects his things and shouts another goodbye, closing, and locking the front door behind him.

The apartment is quiet when it’s just you and the temptation to sprawl out onto the bed and take a nap is so real, but instead, you force yourself up and out into the living room. You know that you should call your mom and let her know you’ve landed, but you also know she’ll talk your ear off if she answers, and you’re not really in the mood for that.

Instead, you pick up the phone on the side table and call your childhood best friend Jinah, intending to coordinate a time to meet and catch up. When she doesn’t answer you leave a message, letting her know this phone number and that you’ve made it to Seoul. There are a few other friends you need to connect with, but that can wait until later.

For now, you decide that a hot shower is calling you. Admittedly, it takes a few minutes for you to figure out how the shower works, but when you do, you’re more than thankful for the opportunity to clear your head and finally relax. You’ve been frazzled and stressed for months leading up to quitting your career and moving back home, but now that it’s done and you’re here, you feel as though you get a little bit of breathing room.

You still have the matter of getting a new job, which Jinah will be helping you with, and eventually, you need to figure out where you’ll move after you’re back on your feet since you don’t plan on making staying with your brother permanent, but for now, the biggest hurdle of moving back across the globe has been crossed.

After your shower, you make note of how your stomach growls, but decide to get a little unpacking done first. You already know that if you don’t at least start, your suitcases may sit in this room for days until you have the willpower to put things away. After digging your discman out of your backpack, you pop in an Aaliyah CD and get to work.

You only get as far as folding your underwear and bras and putting those in the dresser before you’re stretching out on the bed and telling yourself you’ll only close your eyes for a moment before resuming.

Your head feels groggy when you open your eyes, sit up, and take in your surroundings. For a moment, you forget where you are, until you remember you’re in your new room in Seoul. Sun shines through the curtains covering your window and you spot your discman on the nightstand next to your head.

When you poke your head out of your room, you can hear soft sounds from the TV in the living room, but before you investigate, you take a detour to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“Look who’s returned to the land of the living!” Hansol greets you when you finally make your way into the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, watching a variety show, but quickly gets up to pull you into a hug.

“Hey, Sol. What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“In the morning?!” You blink at the window with the curtains drawn open, frowning at the sunlight coming into the room. “I got in at noon yesterday!”

Hansol chuckles as you plop onto the couch next to him. “Yep. I tried to wake you when I got home yesterday, but you just grumbled at me and turned back over. I put your discman on the nightstand so you wouldn’t knock it off or anything so you’re welcome.”

“Damn, guess I was just that tired.”

“Yeah, Chan tried to get you up too, but you didn’t budge. He brought dinner home but not even food could get you up.” Hansol laughs, thankfully not noticing the way his words fluster you. The thought of Chan seeing you sprawled out on your bed, mouth likely open as you slept is embarrassing. You quickly have to remind yourself that he is your roommate so he’s bound to see you sleeping and to get over it.

“That explains why it feels like there’s a gaping hole in the pit of my stomach.”

“Don’t worry, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge for you. And I’m sure there’s some other stuff to tide you over until later.”

“Where’s Chan now?”

“Work. Same place I’m about to go. It’s my turn for dinner tonight so I’ll bring chicken home with me.”

“Ugh, I haven’t had good fried chicken since I was in the States and we landed in Atlanta, Georgia for a while.”

“I got you. There’s a really good place not far from the apartment.”

“You’re the best, Sol.”

“I know,” your brother boasts, getting off the couch to stretch.

“Oh! Mom called last night for you. She’s pissed you didn’t call her when you got here.”

Letting out a groan, you roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just didn’t have it in me to listen to her tell me a story that I’ve probably already heard ten times. I’ll call her later after I finish unpacking. I already know she’s gonna want me to come over.”

“Oh, she does. She wants us both over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! She didn’t even ask if that works!”

“She didn’t, but that’s because she knows I’m off work tomorrow and in her words, ‘it’s not like your sister has any obligations yet, so you can come over close to lunch.’”

Hansol’s recounting of your mom’s words forces another eye roll out of you, but you’ll both be there and you already know it.

“I’m running to the bathroom then I’ll get ready to head out. Here, have fun.” He hands you the TV remote before disappearing into the bathroom.

Before you can get comfortable, you pull your tired body from the couch to grab leftovers and eat before your mom calls again, inevitably nagging you about not calling her earlier.

As expected when you settle back down to call, your mom picks up the phone on the first ring and spends the next ten minutes chastising you for not calling her when you landed. You apologize multiple times, assuring her that both you and Hansol will visit her tomorrow.

Also as expected she talks your ear off for about twenty minutes, giving you updates that you know she’ll tell you about again tomorrow. Thankfully, the mailman shows up in the middle of another story about the neighbor she’s been having a holiday decoration war with for the last three years in a row so she lets you go, saying she’s happy to see you tomorrow.

Jinah is next on your call list and she also picks up after a few rings, cheering as soon as she hears your voice, celebrating your arrival in Seoul.

“I’m so happy we’re in the same timezone again!”

“Me too. I don’t even remember the last time we got to sit and chat.”

“I want to say it was when we were both in Spain last year. You had that day-long layover and I was out there for Fashion Week.”

“Oh, you’re right! You met that guy at that mall we went to.”

“Mmm, Ricky! He was so sweet. He still calls me sometimes. I don’t always answer, but he tries.” Jinah giggles, no doubt at some memory of her and the model she easily picked up that day.

She shifts around on the other line. “Oh damn, as much as I want to catch up with you babe, I’m about to head out for a meeting. Can we meet up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if you can do it late in the afternoon? My mom wants me and Hansol to come over tomorrow. She already chewed my head off for not calling her when I got in.”

“Oh, Mrs. Chwe. Well, after you’re done with family time, let’s meet up! There’s a new bakery that opened in Hongdae that I haven’t tried yet. We can go together since it’s not too far from your parents’ place.”

“Please! I am craving a croissant actually.” Jinah tells you the address which you quickly write down, agreeing to meet tomorrow afternoon.

With that call over, you decide to finally bite the bullet and finish unpacking your things so you can stop thinking about it. It doesn’t take very long, seeing how your whole life was packed away in two suitcases, a backpack, and a purse. You make a mental note to do some decoration shopping for your room once you have the funds and decide to reward yourself with TV time.

You didn’t get to catch up on many shows always being on the go, so you plan to spend your time now getting in the know and watching as many reruns as you can catch. Among other things, not being in the sky for 90% of your time will offer you the opportunity to take things much slower. You’re used to always either being on a plane, spending a few nights in hotels or short-term rental places, or rushing between all of these destinations, so you plan on doing the complete opposite with your new schedule now.

You’re stretched out on the couch, enjoying an episode of one of the new dramas everyone around you has mentioned when you fall asleep again, your eyelids unable to concentrate for long.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel yourself being slightly shaken, your eyes cracking open to see Chan staring down at you. When your eyes finally adjust you get a better look at him and note how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and beanie. Why is that even the first thing you thought?

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home and we have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, fried chicken!” You sit up, groggily rubbing your eyes and you see Hansol coming into the living room, bag in hand.

You step away to freshen up, fixing your hair and splashing some water on your face. Your brother and Chan have already set up the chicken and beer on the coffee table, taking their seats on the floor around the table as Hansol flips through TV channels.

Plopping on the floor across from Chan, Hansol pulls a can of soda out of the bag next to you, sliding it over your way. You eagerly open it, thanking him for remembering your lack of enthusiasm about drinking, and grab a piece of chicken.

“So, Y/n,” Chan starts, his full attention on you. “What brought you back to Seoul? When we talked about you moving in, Hansol told me you wanted to quit and move home, but I didn’t ask why.”

“I was just ready for something more stable, is all. Traveling the world is fun and I didn’t hate my job - I met a ton of new and interesting people - but at some point, I just got tired of never having a true place that is mine. I mean, I’ve been doing this since I was twenty. There are only so many hotels and rental places a person can do until they get tired of the constant movement.”

“That makes sense. When I went abroad during my first year of college I got super homesick so I ended up coming back. Some of our friends said I was lame for coming back, but I don’t know, I’ve always loved Korea you know? It’s where I grew up and I feel safe and secure here. I guess I just needed time away to decide what I wanted to do.”

You nod along, understanding what he means. You didn’t know too much about Chan after you graduated and left Korea, so it was nice to learn a little more about him.

“I get that, I mean we see I’m back now after all these years. Some people just gravitate back to where they came from.”

“Yeah, I was just surprised when Hansol mentioned you coming back. I remember you being so excited after graduation because you knew what you wanted to do already and I know you just wanted to see something else other than here.” Chan smiles at you gently. The fact that he remembers how you were feeling after graduation is sweet to you.

“I was excited and I don’t regret what I chose to do. It was fun but ended up not being my end-all-be-all, which is okay. But anyway, enough about me! Hansol told me that you own a dance studio?”

“Oh, yeah. I took over my dad’s dance studio. He’s still around, but I own it. We’re talking about expanding and making it an actual dance company. People from all over Korea come to the studio, so if we can find more spaces and good instructors we can open another here and even abroad.”

“That’s amazing, Chan! You always loved to dance. I’m glad you’re able to do it full-time.” The tips of Chan’s ears redden at your compliment and he takes a long swig of his beer.

“Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course. I only hope that now that I’m back I can find the next thing that I want to do. My friend Jinah, I don’t know if you guys remember her, but she’s going to get me a job at the modeling agency she works at. It’ll probably just be something in the office until I find something else or figure out my next move.”

“Well, you’ve always been really smart and ambitious so I’m sure you’ll find something you’re good at now that you’re back.”

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel your face heat up at his words.

The two of you seem to share a moment where you both glance down at your food, then back up at each other every few minutes.

Hansol suddenly clears his throat as if reminding you both that he’s sitting right in between you.

“Things at my job are going well thanks for asking.”

You both snap out of whatever that moment was and recover by asking Hansol how he likes his new responsibilities, recalling the raise he got recently at work. Hansol’s worked for the same newspaper company for the past four years and you know he’s done his best to gain a good reputation at the company and that he works hard.

You do your best to avoid the questioning look he’s passing between the two of you and instead take a big bite of the chicken wing in front of you.

“It’s good. I write movie reviews now which is cool. I get to see a bunch of movies that come out before the general public for free. It’s much better than the random articles they had me working on before this promotion.”

“I’m proud of you, Sol.” You reach over to ruffle his hair with the hand not touching your food, ignoring the groan he lets out at the action. “Maybe one day you can bring your big sister to one of these early movie showings?”

“Tch, good luck. He won’t even bring me,” Chan mumbles, taking another sip of beer.

“I’m watching movies for work, thank you very much.” Hansol rolls his eyes at the way that Chan sticks his tongue out at him playfully. “Speaking of work, Y/n, make sure you let me know soon if Jinah can’t get you into her company. We have some openings that popped up recently and I’m sure I can get you in if you need it.”

“I will. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow after we see Mom and Dad and I’ll ask her more about it then.”

The three of you spend the rest of dinner watching TV and spend more time catching up. Hansol talks about some upcoming articles he has to work on, Chan goes over more plans for expanding his father’s dance studio, and the men both question you about all the places you’ve traveled to and everything you did as a flight attendant.

After dinner, you help clean up the trash before deciding to go to bed. Your internal clock is still readjusting to a semi-normal schedule, so you need at least a few more days before you can stay up later than 9 PM.

“Goodnight, guys,” You wave at the boys, heading down the hall into your room. You’ll take a shower in the morning - for now, you just want to rest.

Once you’re in your room, the door shut, Hansol eyes Chan as the man casts a few glimpses down the hall. He chuckles, getting his best friend’s attention.

“What?”

“Your crush is still showing, you know.”

Frowning, Chan looks between Hansol and the hallway before fixing his gaze on the TV.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hansol scoffs at him but drops it. He knows Chan well enough to know when he’s lying through his teeth, but he won’t press it.

“Whatever you say, dude.” Hansol shrugs, announcing that he’s going to get ready for bed too. Chan stays in the living room, staring at the TV for a little while longer, but not taking in the show.

All he can think about is the fact that he is very much still into you and he’s never actually stopped. When Hansol brought up you moving in with them, he had no problem with it. You’re his best friend’s sister who needs help, of course, he wouldn’t say no. Chan figured that it would be nice to get to know you more as an adult since all of the knowledge he has of you is the person you were from middle school to high school and the things he hears Hansol or the Chwes say about what you are doing or where you are.

He knew it would be nice to catch up and spend time with you because you’ve always gotten along and you were always nice to him. He hadn’t expected his decade-old crush to creep back into his heart the moment he laid eyes on you, but it did. Chan doesn’t know what to do with these feelings so for now, he’ll squash them down the same way he has since he was ten. He’s more than used to it by now.

“My Y/n!”

It’s the first thing out of your mom’s mouth when she opens the front door, sweeping you up into a hug. She rocks you back and forth telling you how much she missed you.

“Wow, she never hugs me like that,” Hansol murmurs behind you as he steps inside and starts taking his shoes off.

“Oh, hush Sollie! I saw you two weeks ago. I haven’t seen your sister in two years!”

She does end up reaching over to pull Hansol into a hug of his own, once she decides you can breathe again. Your stepdad follows a minute after, hugging you for a much more normal amount of time, but also makes sure to let you know he’s personally offended that you haven’t been home in so long.

As anticipated, your mom has a full spread of food waiting on the table and ushers you and Hansol to sit and eat. Also as expected, she gives you the third degree, wanting to know about your work, your plans, and everything in between, which includes your nonexistent love life. You appease her and keep it short and simple: you’re hearing from Jinah soon about a position, you plan on doing that for at least the next year or two to save up enough money to move into a place of your own, and you’re single and have been for months.

This turns into an almost two-hour visit. If your parents aren’t asking you about your travels or asking Hansol about his job, they’re circling back to you and the fact that ‘now that you’re home and getting situated, you can think about eventually settling down. Since you’re almost thirty.’

You keep to yourself that you have had pretty lackluster luck when it comes to dating overall, but your mom still finds opportunities to sprinkle in that she could ask around to her friends about whose sons may be single, and you tell her you don’t need the help (even though you know she’ll likely do it anyway).

Eventually, you manage to get your parents to talk about themselves and get them to update you on things in the house they’re fixing up, how your dad is doing at work, and some new crochet projects your mom is working on.

Even though they can smother you at times, you know they both do what they do out of love - especially your mom. You did miss your parents at the end of the day and they mean well. They love you and Hansol and have missed you terribly - the latter a fact that your mom made sure to reiterate over and over again.

Before you leave, your mom repeats how happy she is that you’re back home, especially in time for the holidays, and truthfully, so are you. You love holidays because you love decorating and you love all of the themed things that come with holidays. Hansol mentions that he and Chan have never really worried about decorating their apartment, which you immediately informed him will change this year. You plan on decorating the apartment for Halloween and will turn it into a winter wonderland come November. Your brother knows you well enough not to argue and simply laughs, shrugging and telling you to go crazy.

After you finally manage to escape from your parents’ house, you and Hansol split up. He’s going to meet up with some friends and will meet you at home later, he says. You take a cab for the short ride to the coffee shop you and Jinah are meeting at and you notice you’ve arrived first when you don’t see anyone that resembles her.

You’ve only sat down for less than a minute when she sweeps into the shop with her long coat, big sunglasses, and beanie. She slips the sunglasses down her nose and peers around before meeting your eyes. A smile breaks out across her red-painted lips and she rushes over to you. She looks as pretty as she did growing up and it warms your heart. It makes complete sense that she’s such a prolific model now.

“Y/n!” She says your name when making it to the table and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, Jinah! It’s so good to see you!”

“You too! It’s been too long and I hate it.” She pouts at you as she moves to her seat, shedding her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now.”

“You are and you’re gonna get sick of seeing me so much! Especially, if you get a spot at the company! I’m still waiting for my boss to get back to me about your resume.”

“Ugh, I hope it’s soon. I’m not picky about what’s open honestly, I just need something.”

“Well you know I’ll call you as soon as I get some info. I’m sure they’ll hire you. I’m noted as your referral and everyone loves me there!”

Before you dive into more chit chat, you pause the conversation, wanting to order coffee. Jinah takes your order and goes to the counter herself, quickly coming back with two hot cups of caffeine.

“Okay, so no more work talk. How is it living with a couple of twenty-something boys after jetsetting all around the world?”

“Not so bad really. The apartment is surprisingly clean and put together. Me and Hansol have always been close, you know so it’s good so far. And Chan is cool - we’ve always gotten along. He was always around growing up so I’m used to having him in my space anyway. He’s different now of course, but uh, yeah you know.”

You stumble, just slightly on your last sentence and something flashes in Jinah’s eyes, her perfectly waxed brows rising almost immediately. You forgot about the fact that no matter how long you two spend apart, she’s still your best friend and she knows you almost as well as she knows herself.

“He’s different?” There’s a tilt in her voice that you don’t recall having in your words.

“I didn’t say it like that!”

“Yes, the hell you did! He’s different how? All I remember about your brother’s best friend is some skinny, big-headed kid that followed us around at school and whenever I was over your house.”

You bite your lip, assessing Jinah and if there’s any way you can steer the conversation elsewhere.

No such luck arrives for you though as she sits there, unwavering as she patiently waits for you to tell her the truth. You already know she won’t leave it alone if you don’t.

Begrudgingly, you give in, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, whatever, he’s fucking hot now, okay?! I’ve only been there like three days and any time I run into him he’s nothing but polite and considerate. He’s always been nice but he’s mature now. It’s just so different.”

“Hmph. So, you think he’s mature and polite and hot now? Got it.” She nods, taking a sip of her coffee, and swallowing slowly before speaking. “So do you think you’ll finally give him a chance?”

“Absolutely not! He’s younger than me and not only my brother’s best fucking friend but we’re roommates now. The level of messiness went from 80% to 180% if something goes wrong between us.”

“Yeah, but the chances of things going well also go from 80% to 180% too, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“But you’re both adults! What does it matter? Do you think Hansol will care?”

“I don’t know. But again, the main problem is if Chan and I only end up being a hookup or one of us wants something that the other doesn’t then living with the man will be incredibly awkward, and once again, he and my brother are best friends. Things won’t only be awkward for us, but I don’t want to drag Sol into that mess either. So it’s in everyone’s best interest that I keep my mouth and my legs closed and don’t even think about trying anything with Chan.”

Jinah hums and clearly disagrees but she doesn’t press it. Not that she has to because just like she knows you, you know her, and you know she has so many objections rattling around in her head.

“Anyway, time to hear about you! Tell me about your love life! Is it busy? Are you seeing anyone? Are you sleeping with anyone? I want to know everything about Im Jinah’s romantic endeavors.”

Your best friend clicks her tongue at you, noticing the obvious conversation redirect, but she obliges. She talks about a guy she’s mentioned to you before that she works with that she’s been on a few dates with. As an aside, she mentions that there are plenty of hot, single people at her company that you’ll run into, but you wave that part off.

She mentions that she needs to go shopping this upcoming weekend for a Halloween costume for a party a friend of hers is throwing at the end of October. She also addsthat you too, will be going to said party with her.

“I am?”

“You are. So, this weekend we’ll be getting costumes. A guy I’ve done a ton of ads and shoots with has a party every year and you’ll be my plus one! He’s super nice and pretty wealthy so his place is really nice.”

You do love Halloween and you haven’t really gotten to do much to celebrate it the last handful of years, so you agree to go, even though you knew she would’ve hounded you about going for days anyway. You saved both of you some trouble.

On the topic of Christmas, the two of you get caught up in talking about needing to figure out what to get people and when to go shopping to get ahead of it. You easily fall into conversation with your best friend, your subject changing every few minutes as you laugh and properly get caught up until you’ve both got two empty coffee cups each.

Eventually, Jinah glances at her watch and curses.

“Damn, I’ve got another meeting to run to. My manager and I have been meeting with a few magazines for some last-minute holiday ads they want to shoot for. “I’ll be sure to badger her about any news on your resume okay?”

You and Jinah exchange your goodbyes and you promise to chat in a few days if you don’t hear from her sooner. Even though she’s busy, she cites she’ll still be sure to make time for the two of you to hang out more. You both walk out of the shop together and with a goodbye hug, you both go your separate ways. Her to grab a taxi and you to the train station to head back home.

Chan really thought he was done with big life revelations. His last and biggest was deciding that college and a traditional degree weren’t what he wanted. After that, a bunch of smaller decisions hit him but no combination of realizations, big or small, could’ve prepared him for the fact that he’s still hopelessly in love with the same girl for the last almost fifteen years.

But seeing you again was like someone doused him with a gallon of cold water to the face. Shocking and jarring and nothing could’ve prepared him. Not for the way his eyes almost bugged out of his head upon seeing you again after what felt like far too long or the way his palms got sweaty just being close to you, even though he had just finished a shower before seeing you.

Chan was so sure that he was over you. He’s had plenty of partners over the years. Some serious and some not so much, but he doesn’t think he’s ever compared any of those people to you. It’s been years so surely he isn’t still hung up on his best friend’s older sister.

Unfortunately for him, that is exactly what he is and he’s not sure what to do with this information. A tiny voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him he’s a loser for not being over his childhood crush who has never reciprocated the feelings anyway. Never once have you made any indication that you thought of Chan the same, so it’s not as though you’re going to magically do it now…right?

His mind is so wrapped up in you that he keeps fumbling with the moves he practices at work in preparation for a dance class in a few days. He lets out another frustrated huff as he watches himself in the mirror trip over his feet yet again.

Chan’s close friend and co-choreographer at the studio walks over to the boombox at the side of the room, cutting off the music and staring him down.

“Okay, where’s your head, Chan?” Soonyoung looks at him pointedly. “You’ve been distracted since you get here and keep fucking up.” He waits for an answer, hands on his hips.

Chan hesitates for a moment, wondering if he wants to repeat his early years - where he would tell anyone who would listen that he was in love with Y/n Chwe. This is different though, this is his friend checking on him so he decides to tell Soonyoung.

“The girl I’ve loved since I was ten is back in town.”

“Okay?”

“And I still love her.”

“And? You’re both adults now so you can do something about it right?”

“And she’s living with me. We’re roommates now.”

“And?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, still not seeing too much of an issue with this.

“She, uh, she’s Hansol’s sister.”

Soonyoung cocks his head to the side in thought. “Okay…well what’s the problem? Hansol is super chill. Do you think he’ll be mad about it?”

“I don’t know. I know Hansol more than almost anybody, but for some reason, I’m still really stressed about how he’ll react.”

“You could always ask him?” Soonyoung tries, offering Chan a bottle of water from the cooler across the room.

“I don’t know. I mean, even if I do and he’s okay with it, what if I ask her out and she says no? She had never liked me like that when we were young. I was always just her brother’s snot-nosed best friend.”

“I get being worried about that, but you’re grown now. Maybe things can be different?”

“Yeah, but if she turns me down, I don’t want to make things awkward for us all living together. And even if I am in some bizarre universe where she is into me too, I could very well fuck this up and she’ll want nothing to do with me and we’ll break up and it’ll still be awkward and then Hansol could not want to be my friend anymore or want me to move out and then what?” Chan ends his rant with a grunt, sliding against the mirror until he plops onto the hardwood floor. Soonyoung comes over and joins him, sitting cross-legged next to his friend.

“This has really been on your mind huh?”

“Hard for it not to be when she is as beautiful as always and sleeping in the room right next to me now.”

“Well, even though I’ve never been through something like this, my advice? Maybe try to just take it slow. Hang out with her more, test the waters, and see if she reciprocates. If so, then either keep getting closer or ask her out and go from there. What’s the point in constant what-ifs you know? Maybe you’re getting a second chance now that you’re both adults and in good places in your life. And sure you might fuck it up, but you also might not. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Soonyoung shrugs, taking a gulp of water.

Chan side-eyes his friend, genuinely surprised at his words.

“Since when did you turn into a relationship expert with actual good advice?”

Soonyoung chokes on his water, coughing loudly to recover. “What do you mean actual good advice?! I give good advice all the time!”

“Tsk, just like that so-called, good advice you gave me that one time we went to the club and you told me I should start a dance battle with that girl that was flirting with me?”

The man looks genuinely offended, hand flying to his chest in surprise.

“First of all, I was drunk! Second of all, that was a good idea. She said she liked dancers!”

“Yeah, but I think she meant slow, sensual dancing like we had been doing all night before you swooped in with your so-called, good advice.”

“Whatever! Don’t take my advice and pine over this woman for another decade. Just decide so you can stop fucking up this dance!” Soonyoung pushes him over, making him land on his side, but the push is more playful than anything.

While Soonyoung may not have a great track record of steering Chan in the right direction, he mulls it over for the rest of the day after getting back to practicing. He ultimately decides that maybe Soonyoung is right. He won’t do anything weird or out of the ordinary. He’ll just be himself and try to spend more time with you and hopefully be able to show you the real him. The him that’s a mid-twenties career man with a plan and a future, who’s much more mature than from when you used to know him.

If he’s lucky, he won’t make a fool out of himself and if you’re not into him still, you’ll at least let him down gently. If he’s super lucky, you’ll feel the same way about him and he’ll finally get to call you his.

He’s not going to hold his breath, but he’ll regret it once again if he doesn’t at least try with you, unlike he failed to do when he was young and dumb.

Getting the call three days later from Jinah that you got a job at her agency was the best news you’ve gotten in a very long time. Her boss manages to get you a role in their travel department. You’d be working with the assistants of the models to help get their travel booked, manage their transportation, and help arrange all things travel related. While you don’t have any office experience, your flight attendant experience seems to be enough to get you into the role and you weren’t about to argue with that.

As soon as you start, you consider yourself lucky that you seem to fall into the team you’re on easily. It’s not difficult to get comfortable and find your place which makes getting settled all that much simpler. Plus, the pay is decent, and even a little more than what you previously made, so you can’t complain about that.

Jinah uses the Halloween party she told you about as an excuse to go out with you again and an excuse to celebrate your job. Hansol and Chan had already gotten you a small cake to celebrate which was extremely sweet, so you don’t mind celebrating with Jinah.

The cake, you learn in passing from Hansol, was Chan’s idea. It’s only one thing on the long list of ways that Chan has succeeded in getting closer to you over the weeks that it takes you to get settled in. You’ve spent time with Chan as a kid when he was around all the time, but you really get the chance to know him now that you’re adults living together.

You learn most, if not all of his likes and dislikes. His favorite colors, favorite foods, movies he likes, and celebrities he can’t stand (his one-sided rivalry with Lee Byunghun is especially funny to you since he also compliments his acting whenever one of his movies is on). He’s constantly making you laugh, always asking how your day was when you see each other in the evenings, and he always says good morning and asks how you slept when you get up for the day. On nights when he has to get dinner for you all, he always asks if there’s any food you're craving because he promises he’ll pick it up or make it (and he always does every time).

On the weekends, when you’re home relaxing and sleeping in, and if he works, he has started to call home often and ask if you need him to grab anything on the way home, be it medicine, food, a video rental, or anything in between. Chan makes it a habit to check in with you even more than your brother, which Hansol calls out one night over dinner. Chan’s cheeks go red and he throws a wayward shrimp at his best friend but doesn’t deny it, citing that he just wants to help you be comfortable.

If he isn’t checking on you or buying you small things, he’s making sure your laundry is washed if he’s doing his and that your favorite mug (the yellow one with the fried eggs print all over it) is always washed. He makes sure your favorite snacks are in the apartment and that you’re never without anything you need - even finding out your preferred brand of tampons and pads and wordlessly getting them for you.

By the time the end of October rolls around, you’ve been living with Chan and your brother for a month and your feelings for Chan are only growing, much to your utter dismay. You don’t want to like him, for the multitude of reasons you’ve already outlined in your head and to Jinah, but he makes it damn near impossible. If he’s not being the most sweet and polite man you’ve ever been around, he’s walking around the apartment shirtless from time to time or coming back from the gym or work sweaty and flushed with his arms on display.

He constantly treats you like a true gentleman would, carrying groceries for you and doing any heavy lifting around the apartment that comes up. It may be the bare minimum, but Chan treats you better as someone you’re not dating than anyone you actually have dated. You’re in a constant battle between your coochie and your heart about your array of feelings for Lee Chan and it’s only serving to drive you crazier each day.

On the night of Halloween, when Jinah is in your room with you getting ready for her friend’s party, she teases that Chan may not be able to hold himself back when he sees you.

“I don’t know, Y/n. Your ass does look really good in this jumpsuit.” You admire your figure in your mirror, admiring how the soft yet clingy fabric does, in fact, do your ass justice.

You and Jinah decided to go with a theme for your costumes. She’s going as an angel, complete with a white mini-dress, wings, and a halo. You went with a devil, the red, clingy jumpsuit you wear hugs every part of your body that you’d wanna show off and the zipper in the front is open just enough to accentuate your cleavage. The horns attached to the headband on your head sit comfortably and are the finishing touch.

Yes, you’re not supposed to want Chan to like you because it’ll make it that much harder for you, but you don’t mind the idea of him looking.

“Ready?” You ask when you’re finally done with your makeup, making sure your red lipstick is perfect.

“Yep! Let me call a car for us!” You and Jinah leave your room and she fishes her Nokia from her white bag.

When you step into the living room, you nearly trip over your feet upon seeing Chan lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels. You know he and Hansol are also going out tonight to their friend Junhui’s Halloween party, but you hadn’t discussed your costumes.

His black t-shirt is as tight as your jumpsuit is and displays every muscle and ripple in his arms and chest and you even swear you can make out the faint outline of his abs. The black pants he wears are baggy since he’s dressed as a firefighter, but the fabric stretches over his thighs as he spreads his legs, and the suspenders that keep those pants up stir something feral within you. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go over and mount yourself in his lap right then and there.

Chan notices you both come in and hurries to sit up, making room on the couch for you. He seems to take notice of your costume and you watch as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe, unabashed and almost forgetting (or uncaring) that you can see him checking you out.

“Hey! You, uh, you look amazing.” He blurts, eyes still locked onto you. Jinah clears her voice from next to you and Chan seems to then remember that someone else is in the room. “Er, ah, you both do!” He adds, eyes flickering to your best friend who just snorts.

“Thanks, Chan. Our ride is here though, so I do have to steal her away now.”

“Ah, okay. Sure. I’ll see you later tonight, Y/n. Have fun and you both stay safe, okay?”

You nod, telling him to do the same. You catch sight of your brother as you and Jinah are on your way to the door. His Ghostface robe drags on the carpet as he comes down the hall.

Once you and Jinah slide into the car, and she gives the driver the address, she gives you a look.

“Don’t,” you say, stopping her before she can say what you already know she will.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? That Chan got real-time tunnel vision checking you out in your costume and that he forgot I was even in the room.”

“Yes, that! Don’t say that!”

She shrugs, reaching into her bag and pulling out her compact to check her reflection.

“Okay. I won’t say it. I don’t really need to since you know.”

You did, of course, you did. You could feel the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, but you remind yourself that you can’t do anything more than look. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone at this party can distract you.

Truth be told, when you longed for someone at this party to distract you from Chan, you were only putting it into the universe and just keeping your fingers crossed. You didn’t think you’d actually find someone else to catch your interest. You didn’t anticipate that Jinah’s model friend that owns the large, expertly decorated house would take an interest in you, and yet he did the moment you met him.

“Minhyuk, this is my best friend, Y/n! Y/n, this is Lee Minhyuk. Y/n just moved back to Seoul after traveling for work.”

Minhyuk wastes no time in bowing to you before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the top of it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Any friend of Jinah is a friend of mine.” The handsome man smiles widely at you, making you swoon on the spot. “Especially a friend as stunning as you.”

One look at this buff, beautiful man with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfect face and you’re not surprised in the slightest that he’s a model. You’re sure he can get any woman that he wants and that his charms work on anyone he flashes a brilliant smile to. You’re annoyed that he’s having the same effect on you the more he talks to you and stays by your side for the first hour of the party. You chalk it up to having been single for so long and on your repressed desire for Chan, but you let Minhyuk flirt with you and drape his arm over your shoulder as he asks you about your flight attendant days.

Jinah stays with you both for a while after introducing you, but when it seems obvious that Minhyuk is making heart eyes at you, she excuses the two of you momentarily, pulling you aside.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She says as best as she can in your ear. The music from the sound system in the next room is quieter in the dining room you’re standing in, but is still turned up to a booming volume.

“Yeah, I’m good!”

“You sure? He’s hitting on you pretty hard. He’s a good guy but say the word and we’re out of here.” You mull your next words and decisions over, ultimately deciding to stay and see where things go with Minhyuk. You had asked the universe for a distraction on your way and here it is so why pass it up?

“I’m sure. If I need you or want out, I’ll tell you.” Jinah gives you another firm look before relenting and going with you back to Minhyuk’s side.

An hour later Minhyuk offers to show you around his house. Jinah stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You’re sure this will end up with the two of you somewhere in this house, presumably naked, but you decide that’s exactly what you need.

Minhyuk keeps his arm draped over your shoulders as she gives you a tour of his house, avoiding all of the drunken party goers and horny couples making out as you go. Almost every room in his house has people packed into it. His den, his game room, his second living room, and all four of his guest rooms. The only room that has no one else in it is his bedroom which is where you ultimately end up.

“Your house is very fancy,” you compliment, looking around his bedroom. The bed is bigger than even some of the hotel beds you’ve slept in. The duvet is soft under your palms as you sit on the edge and lean back on your hands. Art hangs on the walls and he has two dressers that you can see. You can’t see into the bathroom across the room, but the tub you catch sight of has to be able to fit at least four people.

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it. How’s the bed?” Minhyuk smirks at you from across the room, leaning against a tall dresser. The scrubs of his doctor costume are standard, save for the fact that the top is sleeveless. He crosses his arms and you see how every muscle flexes and twitches under his tan skin

“Mmm, it’s pretty soft. Your duvet is nice.” You cross and uncross your legs, watching as the model follows your movements with his eyes.

“Yeah? The sheets are even better.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah. They’re real silk. And temperature controlled so they’re the perfect coolness and won’t make you hot.” As he speaks he stalks towards you, tossing aside the surgical mask that has been hanging under his chin since you met him.

“Oh? They sound expensive.”

“They are. And they feel like a cloud. Wanna feel them?” Minhyuk is standing in front of you now, his knee resting against the edge of the bed between your legs, waiting for your next words.

You don’t leave him waiting for long, as you breathe out an “I’d love to,” and he immediately bends forward, hands grabbing your face to pull you into a heated kiss. Your hands reach out to grasp at his arms, nails lightly digging into the firm flesh.

Minhyuk grunts into your mouth, fully climbing onto the bed to hover over your body. One hand stays on your cheek while the other travels down your body, grabbing and squeezing as he settles on your hip.

His tongue slips into your mouth when you separate your lips to take in a breath. Your bodies move together as you shuffle backward up the bed a little, giving him more room to drape his body over yours and kneel between your legs. He presses his pelvis forward, the movement causing him to brush against you, the clothed tip of his hardening length grazing your crotch.

The sensation makes him groan and pause for a moment, his tongue and body stilling. A jolt of confidence rushes over you, making you shift underneath him and flip him onto his side. You quickly push him all the way onto his back and crawl into his lap.

“Mmm maybe I like this view more than you under me,” he mumbles, admiring the new position. He only gets a moment to take it in before you’re leaning down to kiss him again, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. Minhyuk’s hands move down your back to grip your ass.

Your make out session lasts for a few minutes, your mind finally slipping away from everything else that has been tumbling around in your brain. At some point, Minhyuk pulls away with a gasp and quickly peels his top off, tossing it aside before leaning back and letting you ogle him.

Your mouth drops at the sight of him, all chiseled muscle and rippling abs. You gawk for only a moment before your brain decides to remind you of the way that Chan looks without a shirt. He’s also muscular but in a much softer way. Chan’s abs are lightly defined and his pecs are still visible. You also always find your way back to thinking of that day when he had just gotten out of the shower, of the small happy trail that runs down, down, down to where you can’t see. You wonder how soft that dusting of hair is.

Minhyuk momentarily pushes away your Chan imagery when he reaches up to grab your face to pull you back down to kiss him again. Your hands stretch out to steady yourself, finding purchase on his biceps. The hard muscles twitch under your fingers and you squeeze in return. Immediately, you’re reminded of how soft Chan’s biceps and arms are.

A week ago the two of you had run into each other in the hallway of the apartment. You were leaving when he was rounding the corner, coming back from the gym. He had a tank top on and when he appeared in front of you, you both jumped, yelping in surprise. You had reached your hands out by instinct, with the intention of doing what you’re not sure, but when you noticed it was Chan at the last minute your hands unfurled from fists and gripped his arms to steady yourself.

His arms were built, but still so soft and smooth under your hands. That feeling has stayed with you even now as you think about Chan and his arms while another man is kissing your neck.

All of a sudden, you wonder what it would feel like if Chan was the one that was under you and if he was the one whose lips were pressing kisses on your throat instead.

Minhyuk’s fingers walk their way to the front of your jumpsuit and he flicks at the zipper that keeps your outfit secure. Before he has a chance to unzip it, his bedroom door bursts open and a woman stands in the doorway, yelling his name angrily.

The intrusion makes you jump, jerking too far back and toppling backward onto the floor.

“Shit, Y/n! You okay?!” Minhyuk jumps up and offers you his hand, being nice enough to at least check on you.

“Minhyuk, what the fuck?!” The woman screeches again, stomping over to him and shoving his chest. “I’ve been walking around this stupid party looking for you for like half an hour! You invited me tonight just to run off and fuck someone else?!”

“Hyoseong, I’m sorry, I-” Hyoseong cuts him off by shoving him backward, making him lose his balance and fall back onto the bed. He’s too close to the corner of the bed though, because he keeps going and falls back off the side, yelping the whole time.

Hyoseong smirks, satisfied as she watches him before turning her gaze to you still standing there awkwardly. The flame in her eyes diminishes and is replaced with concern.

“He’s not worth it, I promise. All he knows how to do is fuck every girl he looks at and lead you on!” She screams that last part at him before turning and storming back out of the room.

Embarrassment is written all over Minhyuk’s face as he scrambles up and gives you a sheepish smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.

“Don’t even try it.” You stick your palm out at him, stopping him from responding.

He listens, not saying anything as you leave the room and beeline back downstairs in search of Jinah. You find her in the kitchen talking to a few other girls and when she sees you, she immediately rushes over to you, worry written all over her face. You reassure her that you’re okay and tell her about Hyoseong and she gasps.

“Fuck, I thought they broke up! Ugh, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I’ll go kick his ass right now!” She looks over your shoulder for him, but you stop her. This is clearly a story you’ll have to ask her about on another day. Right now, all you want to do is go home, shower, and flop into bed.

She doesn’t let you convince her to stay and have fun and is already calling a car for you both. You ride together and you tell her what was going through your head when you were hooking up with Minhyuk and she just nods, letting you pour out your garbled thoughts.

Of course, her response is to act on these feelings, but you quickly shut that down, reminding her of the list of reasons that you cannot act on said feelings. As she’s gotten accustomed to doing, she rolls her eyes and tells you that you’re thinking too much into this.

The conversation dies when you pull up at home, thanking her for the ride and hurrying out before she can keep bringing it up.

Chan is fucked. That’s all he thinks when he and Hansol get to Junhui’s party. Ever since you left, all that his brain plays on a loop is you in that red jumpsuit. It is long sleeved and the bottom of the pants are flared, but the fabric hugs you in every way imaginable. The only things he wanted to look at was the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, and the way it framed your ass as you left.

He knows that the image of you in that costume is all he’ll think about for not only the rest of the night but quite possibly for the rest of his life. He did his very best not to make it obvious he was checking you out, but in his defense, he swears he also saw your eyes stay too long on his chest and his thighs.

As the month has ticked by living with you, Chan has only fallen for you even more than he thought was possible. Everything you do and say makes his heart race. Every time he sees you, he wants to hold and kiss you, no matter what time of day it is. You look just as beautiful waking up as you do going to sleep.

He’s whipped and he hasn’t even told you that he’s still in love with you.

He knows he only has eyes for you because he spends the first hour of the party talking with his friends and sipping on a drink, but he still keeps going back to you in his mind. He knows he is especially hopeless when a cute girl approaches him and asks him to dance. He forgets her name as soon as she says it (Yerim maybe?) and even though she looks incredibly sexy in her little black dress and cat ears, the only thing Chan can see is you when he closes his eyes.

Even when she drags him to the living room to dance and presses her body close to his, he wishes it was you that was rubbing your ass against his crotch. Chan wonders what you’re doing right now and if you’re dancing with someone else just like this. He beats himself up at the thought, chiding himself for not asking you to come to this party instead or even to stop by after the one you’re at now. Even though Jinah asked you to her friend’s party first, he still should’ve brought it up, but he was too nervous you’d turn him down. He hates the idea of you looking that stunning and having other people look at you or touch you. He wants you so bad, in any way you’ll have him, and he doesn’t care how pathetic that sounds.

The cat girl seems to take notice that Chan is distracted as his arms lay limp on her hips. She turns around, draping her arms around his neck and pressing her tits against his chest. Her wide brown eyes blink up at him and her black painted lips curl up in a smile. She’s really cute, Chan can admit - like really cute - but she’s also not you. Before he can think anymore, she’s on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his lips.

Any other time, he doesn’t think he’d turn down a cute girl that is so obviously into him and he certainly wouldn’t turn away from a kiss, but this time is different. This time, Chan only thinks of you and wishes this was you. That’s why he doesn’t make much effort to kiss her back. Not a single spark pops between him and the cat girl. She quickly gets tired of his lack of enthusiasm, soon pulling away and turning in a huff to leave him standing in the middle of the living room.

Chan watches her go, his eyes looking around the room and it hits him how much he doesn’t actually want to be here. He’d much rather be back at home, sitting on the couch with you watching late night sitcoms like the two of you have fallen into the habit of doing.

He’s only at the party for a couple of hours, before he finds Hansol in the kitchen, letting him know that he doesn’t feel very party-like anymore and decides to go home. Hansol is right in the middle of racing with their friend Seokmin, trying to shotgun a beer faster than him, but when he wins, he gives Chan his attention.

“Are you sure? You want me to go with you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Stay. I’m just gonna shower and probably chill.”

“Alright, dude. Can you just keep an eye out for Y/n when you get back?”

Hansol doesn’t have to ask twice. Even if he hadn’t asked once, Chan would’ve looked out for you anyway. It’s why after he’s showered and gotten a snack, he goes to the couch instead of his bed. He assumes you won’t be home until it’s late, but if he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse of you before you go to bed and will make sure you’re safe.

He’ll also get one more look at your costume which isn’t as important as making sure you’re safe, but it’s absolutely something he’s looking forward to.

When you get home, you’re surprised to see that the TV in the living room is on. When you round the corner you see Chan sitting on the couch, under a blanket with popcorn in hand and eyes wide in surprise at seeing you.

“Hey, Y/n! You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really feeling like being at a party anymore. Too people-y. I’m surprised you’re here though.”

Chan shrugs, “I guess I wasn’t feeling like being at a party either.”

You hum, glancing at the space on the couch he makes for you. “I’m gonna shower and put on my pajamas. Mind if I hang out here with you when I’m done? I’m not that tired yet.”

“Yeah! I mean, uh, yeah of course you can.” He clears his throat, eyes still flickering between you and the TV.

“Great. I’ll be quick and then we can watch a movie?” Chan nods and shamelessly watches you go when you hurry down the hall and into the bathroom.

You remove your makeup and shower faster than you think you ever have, eager to spend the evening with Chan.

Once your most comfortable pajamas are on, you join him, plopping next to him on the couch.

“So, what’re we watching?”

“Scream?”

“Oh, yes! Both of them?”

“Sure.”

Chan starts the movie already in the VCR and passes you the bowl in his hands which you eagerly accept. As the movie goes on, you both start on your respective sides of the couch. It isn’t until you’re halfway through the first movie that you have half a mind to notice that your leg brushes against Chan’s each time you adjust. At first, you jump at the contact, and he seems to as well, both of you shifting away embarrassedly.

That only lasts for a small amount of time though, because by the end of the movie, you’re both close again and the bowl of popcorn you’ve been sharing is empty. After Chan gets up and puts in the second movie, he comes back to the couch and sits down, this time close enough that your thighs touch and neither of you moves.

You continue to stay close to one another as you watch the movie and eventually, you’re so close that you’re practically cuddling. You’re not, but you may as well. Seeing how at some point, you end up falling asleep with your head on Chan’s shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

You only know this to be the case when you’re woken up sometime later, Hansol’s voice rousing you out of your sleep. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Ghostface staring down at you, causing you to scream, jolting into Chan’s lap and making the man jolt awake too. His eyes meet Ghostface standing in front of you both, also making him shriek and grasp onto you for protection.

Hansol lets out a chuckle, and lifts the mask, taking in the terror written on his roommates’ faces.

“It’s just me.”

“Jesus, Sol! You could’ve taken the damn mask off before you scared the shit out of us.”

You toss a pillow at him, hitting him in the gut, but he doesn't flinch.

“Nah this was more fun.” He dodges the second pillow that Chan tries to smack him with and says goodnight to you both as he sprints down the hall.

Once he’s gone, you both realize that you’re still partially in Chan’s lap and he still has an arm around you. You sit up quickly, sharing an awkward laugh with him as you get up, announcing that you’ll start to clean up. Chan helps and you tidy up the living room and cut the TV off, refolding the blanket you shared and saying goodnight before you go your separate ways to your rooms.

Your words are awkward, but neither of you can get over how warm and right it felt being so close. You tell yourself to forget it as you get into bed, reminding yourself that you can’t do that again.

Meanwhile, Chan can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about him too, just like he’s thinking about you and the way you smell and how much he wants to hold you like that again one day.

He’s not sure if that’ll be a reality for him, but he can only hope so.

November is halfway over when you think that maybe you can finally, fully and unabashedly admit that you like Lee Chan. After Halloween night when you fell asleep together, you’ve only been spending more time with him and getting to know more about him. The problem is, the more you get to know Chan, the more you’re unable to ignore the rapidly growing crush on him.

You want to date him and have sex with him and kiss him. You want to hold his hand when you're grocery shopping or if you’re both in the same room. You want to hug him when you’re sitting next to each other on the couch or on the floor. You want to sleep in the same bed with him, cuddle against his chest, and wake up next to him the following morning.

You admit this to Jinah one day over lunch and she isn’t the least bit surprised. She’s stopped being so enthusiastic about you admitting your feelings for and to Chan, but you already know that’s what she wants to tell you to do whenever you talk about him or she sees you looking at him if you’re all in the same room.

It gets worse when you and Chan spend a day together decorating the apartment for Christmas. He helps you get the tree - a small plastic, realistic looking one since none of you want to deal with the work of a real one - decorate it, and hang up other decorations around the apartment. It all feels so incredibly domestic, similar to all of the cheesy rom coms you’ve had to watch on long flights around this time of year. Of course Hansol is there helping too, but he doesn’t seem to get in between the two of you when you stand too close or reach for the same ornaments.

Well, it’s more likely that he literally doesn’t even notice, but it’s still very cozy and special nonetheless.

Either way, Chan only continues to prove himself as the sweetest, most caring man you’ve ever been around and it’s only serving to stoke the fire that is your feelings for him. It was getting harder and harder to separate those feelings until you simply can’t deny them anymore.

You’re not alone in this want and desire. Every day that Chan has to see you and spend time with you, he only falls for you more. He thought his feelings were rough to grapple with when he was a kid, but this is different. Now that he’s spent so much time with you as adults, getting to know any and everything about you, it only cements his love for you into his heart.

This only makes things harder for him. He’s been trying to take Soonyoung’s advice and show more of the true him to you and he can’t tell if it’s working or not. You seem to enjoy being around him and he knows that at times he’s seen your eyes stray over his body. It’s not enough to make him brave enough to make any moves yet, but he thinks about it constantly. What if he’s reading the signals wrong? What if you’re just really nice and a good roommate and you don’t feel anything remotely romantic for him?

It’s that doubt and fear that has him keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he just constantly thinks about every part of you that he likes (which is everything, to be honest). He thinks about how pretty you are and how soft your skin is. He’s been lucky enough to accidentally knock into you or brush arms or thighs on occasion and every time he feels electricity throughout his body. He constantly thinks about how good you smell and how he can rank a list of all of his favorite outfits that you own. He thinks about your smile and your laugh and the way your expressions change when you experience different emotions.

Lee Chan is in love with you. Always has been and at this rate, probably always will be. He wants to be with you in every way possible. You’re always on his mind, but when he’s in bed, with only a single wall separating you both, he can’t help but think of other things that he likes about you.

Like how pretty your lips are when he sees you wrap them around a bottle or lick stray food from your fingers. Or how tempting your legs look when the heat in the apartment is a little too warm and you wear small sleep shorts. Or even the sound of your voice when you talk to him. He can imagine so easily how soft and breathy your voice could sound while you say his name if he was between your legs in either your bed or his.

Chan thinks about all of these things so much more when he wraps his hand around his aching cock and jerks off, wishing that it was your hand, or mouth, or pussy around him instead. He thinks about how much he’d love to watch you fall apart for him and only him.

When he cums all over himself with a whisper of your name on his lips, he starts to feel a little guilty for thinking of you like this but reminds himself that it’s just fantasies and he’s not acting on anything.

Little does he know that you want him to act on all of those things and more. He’s on your mind most nights too and you can’t help but slip your fingers between your legs. You think about his laugh and his wonderful smile and how high pitched his moans probably are and how stunning you know he’d look under you while you ride him. When your fingers are buried inside of yourself knuckle deep, you want so badly for it to be him and his fingers or his cock.

You have similar conflicting feelings after you fall apart, biting down on your lip to stop from crying his name. Guilt washes over you after the orgasm haze lifts and you scold yourself for thinking of him like this when you specifically tell yourself not to. That lasts for a bit until you remind yourself that it’s not like you can act on any of these fantasies so they’re better off as just that.

It's Thursday when snow starts to fall and cover the city of Seoul. You don’t mind too much. You can’t remember the last time you were in a place where you’d have the potential of a snowy Christmas, so you weren’t complaining too much.

Saturday is when the snow stops and sits on the ground like a fresh blanket. Your original plan is to lounge around the apartment and enjoy a day of nothing, the book you’ve been meaning to finish in hand when the phone rings. Your plans are rerouted when Hansol announces that you’re all going ice skating. Seungkwan and his partner want to go to the new outdoor skating rink that recently opened, but they want to invite all of you. You’re prepared to turn down the invitation because you’re cozy and you don’t even know how to skate, until Chan, who’s on the couch next to you playing his Game Boy, looks up and nods. He gives you a sidelong glance to see what your answer will be. The excited look on his face is enough for you to agree.

Half an hour later the three of you are in Hansol’s car and driving to the rink. Seungkwan and his partner are there when you arrive along with their other friend Seokmin who you recognize a little but from high school. Everyone eagerly lines up at the booth to get their rental skates and you lag behind. Chan notices and moves to stand next to you, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine I just, I don’t actually know how to skate.”

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

You shrug, taking a step as the line moves. “I don’t know. Everyone seemed excited to come so I didn’t wanna ruin it.” That’s partially true. You also just wanted to spend time with him, but you keep that to yourself.

“Well don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

“Ah, you don’t have to-”

“Nope. I wasn’t asking! I’m telling you that I’ll help.” He gives you a wide smile that makes you melt just as fast as the snow piled under your feet.

When it’s finally your turn for your skates, you ask for your size and Chan insists on paying for your rental with his, ignoring how many times you object. He leads you both to a bench on the side of the rink and helps you lace up your skates. Once they’re on and secure, you adjust your scarf and gloves and wait for him to finish putting his on.

Chan stands first and offers you his gloved hand which you take without much thought. Slowly, he leads you to the entrance of the rink, letting you slowly step out as he skates backward. As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice you almost feel your balance give out, but Chan keeps a strong grip on your hands, helping keep you upright.

“I won’t let you fall. Promise.” He smiles at you again, this time soft and warm and the gesture feels like a comforting hug.

You and Chan do an entire lap around the rink, albeit slowly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Hansol has already passed you both numerous times, as has Seungkwan, but Chan doesn’t pay them any mind. All of his attention is locked on you and only you.

You manage to do a few more laps, your legs feeling more confident each time. Chan keeps skating backwards with his hands on you, the two of you falling into conversation and laughing the more comfortable you get with him ferrying you around the ice.

Things are going well. Your time with him feels so incredibly right. He seems to be enjoying it too because at some point he shortens the gap between both of you and moves his hands from around yours to your forearms, your biceps, and eventually, his hands are around your waist and yours are draped over his shoulder. The closeness is not exactly normal for two roommates who are not romantically involved, but neither of you moves away.

Your cheeks, nose, and lips are so cold that eventually, you’re ready to call for a break, but then you notice how close Chan is and how red his lips are. He looks cold too and you wonder what will happen if you lean forward and close the already lessening gap.

Chan’s eyes flicker up from your feet to your eyes, and then your lips. You hold your breath in that moment and look between his lips and his eyes. Something between the two of you stirs and you swear you see him inching his face closer and closer.

Before you can finally kiss Chan like you’ve been daydreaming about for the past 2 and a half months, you shift on your left foot which proves to be a horrible idea. You’re falling backward faster than you and Chan can register. You attempt to put your hands back to break your fall which helps because you don’t fall on your ass but you do land on your left wrist with more force than you thought. A sharp, shooting pain runs from your wrist to your elbow making you yelp in pain.

“Y/n!” Chan drops to his knees to check on you and Hansol is at your side in seconds.

“I’m okay, I think I fucked up my wrist though.” They both help you up, each man on either side of you to get you off of the ice. They sit you on a bench and Chan takes off your skates, then his before sprinting to the bench you both started at that still has your boots.

The rest of your group joins you to check in and you notice a few other skaters looking in your direction. In between the pain in your wrist, you feel utter mortification at all of the attention and the way that you busted your ass in front of everyone. Especially given the fact that you swear that you were so close to kissing Chan.

When he comes back with your boots, Chan helps you stand up and announces that he and Hansol will take you to the hospital. You try to object, but they don't want to hear it.

So, you end your day sitting in the hospital getting a wrist brace put on. The doctor says it’s only a mild sprain and all you need to do is wear your brace and use your wrist as little as possible for at least two weeks and you should be just fine.

Even though Chan is in the room when the words “mild sprain” leave the doctor’s mouth, he still treats you as if you have two broken legs and a concussion. He insists on helping you out of the hospital and car and into the apartment. When you sit on the couch he makes sure to prop the throw pillows up under your arm to keep your wrist elevated.

“Chan, my arm won’t fall off.”

“I know, but the doctor recommended keeping it elevated, remember? Now are you hungry? I think we have some leftovers, or if you want me to go out and grab something I can.” He stares at you concerned, waiting for your next order.

Shaking your head you slide over on the couch and gesture to the cushion. “Chan, I promise I’m fine. All I need is for you to sit down and just relax. I ruined skating so try and enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything! It was an accident. I’m just happy you’re okay.” Chan’s hand lifts and hovers over your good hand sitting on the cushion between the two of you. It’s only for a second because he seems to rather quickly decide against it, letting his hand land in his lap.

He doesn’t think you notice, but you do and it stings, just a little.

Despite the awkwardness that lingers now and again between you and Chan over the next week, he still insists on taking care of you. He ignores your protests for the first two days, so you end up just giving in. You let him do any simple lifting around the apartment, even going as far as to carry your food for you at mealtimes. He’s already been doing a lot of small favors and nice things for you, but he does it even more as your wrist heals. It’s both overwhelming and the most flattering thing anyone has ever done for you.

It’s not helping your emotional battle with your feelings for him in the slightest, but you’re ready to give up and accept it. You’re not sure if he feels the same or not. He was the first to initiate what you truly thought was about to be a kiss at the skating rink, but since that failed spectacularly, you feel like he’s also pulling away a little bit. To you, your relationship has only deepened since you moved in and you two were becoming closer and closer. Now though, even though he practically waits on you hand and foot, he still does it in the most platonic way possible, if that’s even possible. So, feelings you harbor for him aside, you’re stuck holding them to yourself in a vice grip.

Working with your wrist sprained is annoying, to say the least. Your role involves computer and phone usage which isn’t impossible, it just makes you a little slower at doing your day to day since everything has to be done with one hand.

When you hit the middle of your second week in the brace, you feel like your wrist will heal closer to the two weeks. That means that if you’re lucky, you only have three days left to suffer in the brace. You wonder if that means things between you and Chan will continue to change even further, but do your best to fight the spiral you’re about to go on. You’re just happy work is done for the day and you can relax.

“Sol!” When you walk into the apartment it’s the first thing you yell out, waiting for your brother to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Did I get a package today?!” Your very first set of business cards that your boss ordered for you a few weeks ago were supposed to arrive today. Hansol stayed home due to a stomach bug, so he was responsible for getting the mail. It wasn’t anything particularly fun, but you were still excited for your own business cards nonetheless.

“That depends; did you pick up the medicine I asked you to get?” He calls back. You roll your eyes as you kick your shoes off and gently remove your crossbody bag.

“And what if I said I didn’t? What’re you gonna do? Hold my package for ransom in your room?”

“Maybe. Or I hid it somewhere in the apartment and now you have to play hide and seek for it.” He chuckles.

“Hansol Vernon Chwe, if you don’t give me my mail, I will literally take your Game Boy and shove it up my - oh.” Your threat to Hansol vanishes the second you turn the corner into the living room and see a man on your couch that you don’t know. A handsome man at that.

A very handsome man.

“What was that?” Your brother teases you, seeing the way you blink back wordlessly at his friend.

“Nothing, shut up. Here’s your medicine, nerd.” You snap out of it and toss the paper bag at your brother on the couch.

“Thanks. Your package is in your room on your desk.”

“Thanks,” you nod, your eyes shifting back to the man on the couch who’s just been smiling politely at you since you entered, chuckling at your sibling spat.

“This is Joshua, by the way.” Hansol finally says, gesturing to the man next to him. “Josh, this is my sister I told you about.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Hey, Y/n,” Joshua waves at you, his smile lowering but you still notice the way the corners of his lips quirk.

“You remember me?” You ask as you try and wrack your brain for any Joshuas from your past. “Oh! Joshua Hong?!” The minute you remember him, you’re even more shocked at how good looking he is. The once lanky, awkward looking transfer student that your brother befriended in his first year of high school even though Joshua is older than him, is now so much different. He’s filled out more, the t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his torso in the most distracting way possible. His jaw is defined, his hair longer and a soft shade of reddish-brown. He looks like a completely different person in your eyes.

What the fuck is going on with all of your brother’s friends? Why were they all suddenly so goddamn hot?!

“That’s me. It’s been a while, huh?”

“I mean yeah, try almost a decade?” You sit on the couch on the other side of Hansol to catch up. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’m finishing my last year of school. I’m getting my bachelor of medicine right now.”

“You’re going to be a doctor?!” You’re surprised, to say the least. From your memory, you can’t remember Joshua being interested in the medical field, but at the same time, you didn’t really know Joshua well enough to recall too much about him.

He lets out a sheepish laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I’ll be doing pediatrics. I didn’t anticipate that I’d get into pediatric medicine initially, it’s just what I fell into and I love it.” God, he’s incredibly fine and he’s going to be a doctor? You’ve completely forgotten what you were planning on doing when you get home.

The front door opens then, Chan arriving home from work too. When he comes into the living room he freezes, surprised at the third person on the couch.

“Shua hyung?”

“Hey, Chan!”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Ah, my apartment building is being exterminated and I need to be out for two days and Hansol is gracious enough to let me crash on your couch till it’s done.”

Chan nods, not minding too much until his eyes flicker to you. He immediately notices the way you look at Joshua. He looks at you enough to know most of your facial expressions and the way your eyes inspect Joshua makes it clear you’re looking at him in the complete opposite of a platonic way.

Chan feels something unpleasant stirring in the pit of his stomach that he can’t shake.

It turns out Joshua is much more than just a doctor-to-be with a pretty face the more you talk with him. It should’ve been a little more awkward getting to know him, but it really wasn’t. You have a lot in common and he’s incredibly interesting and charming. He’s easier to get along with than you had anticipated. The two of you end up spending time together while he’s staying over and he also insists on helping you when he can even though, as you remind all of the men in the house, it’s just a minor wrist sprain.

You are lucky that he’s studying medicine because he inspects your wrist while he’s staying with you and reaffirms what the doctor at the hospital said. It’s not that serious and you should be free by the end of the week. Joshua’s hands are so much bigger than yours and they’re so very warm. The way he cradles your injured wrist is delicate and he handles you like the smallest flower. His sweet gestures make you feel warm all over anytime he says something kind to you or helps you.

He’s only on your couch for two days, but it’s long enough that you’re drawn to him. It helps that he is probably one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen, but his personality makes him almost too good to be true. Or you’re just incredibly desperate for someone to give you attention since it seems like Chan has taken a step back from being your nurse or growing closer to you. It hurts a bit, but having Joshua around feels nice and makes you feel a little more cared for.

When it’s the day that Joshua is supposed to be leaving, you both get back from work at the same time. You chat with him while he puts the pillowcase and blanket he used in the laundry and goes into the bathroom to make sure he’s packed all of his toiletries.

As you walk him to the door he thanks you again for letting him stay. Before he leaves though, he stops and takes a few seconds before turning back to you, surprising you.

“Hey, Y/n, I know this will seem completely out of nowhere, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but would you let me take you out sometime?”

You blink back at him, mouth opening into a surprised ‘o.’

“No pressure of course! And I won’t be upset if you say no. You’ve only really been getting to know me for two days, so I wouldn’t blame you at all if it’s a no.”

Even though Joshua seems like an absolute gentleman and has been nothing but nice to you, you still can’t help but pause. Your track record with dating has historically not been very good. Hell, even your last attempt at a hookup failed miserably. Plus, Joshua is another one of your brother’s friends. He’s only a couple of years younger than you, and sure, he doesn’t live with you, but you’d hate to be the reason that any of Hansol’s friendships get ruined.

“Joshua, you’re really sweet, but I’m Hansol’s older sister. I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Okay, that’s a very fair hesitation, but if it helps, I asked Hansol this morning if I could ask you out and he said, and I quote, ‘Sure, whatever. Just make sure you don’t hurt her or I’ll tell Seungcheol.’” Joshua laughs, shrugging at you. You recognize that name as being Hansol’s oldest friend. You didn’t talk much when you were in school, but you remember him being mildly popular and feared by many.

You return his laugh and can’t help but wonder if Hansol would feel the same if you and Chan dated.

Shaking your head, you brush the thought away. One date can’t hurt - it’s not like Joshua is asking you to be his girlfriend. You and Chan are still in an odd place right now anyway. You’re not really sure how to gauge him right now, and he isn’t making any moves to change that. Sure you don’t know Joshua very well but that’s what dates are for right?

“Okay,” you finally say. “But after I get this stupid brace off. I will see my doctor tomorrow afternoon and I should get an all clear.”

The smile Joshua gives you is lethal and makes your palms sweaty. “Of course. After you take your brace off. I’d want you to be feeling completely better so you can enjoy yourself.” His words make your face heat up, suddenly feeling shy. “What do you say I pick you up tomorrow at six?”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“It’s a date then,” Joshua offers you one more look before he’s out the door and on his way.

Once he’s gone, you bring your hands to your cheeks, cursing yourself for getting so flustered around a guy you barely know, no matter how perfect he looks. To get your mind off of Joshua, you shower and get ready for the evening before deciding you’ll order a pizza and call Jinah to tell her about your date tomorrow.

“So how’s it going with Y/n?” Soonyoung asks Chan as they clean up and prepare to lock up the dance studio at the end of the day.

“It’s…going I guess.”

“I assume this means it’s going absolutely nowhere?” Chan narrows his eyes at Soonyoung, ignoring the way his friend laughs at him.

“It was going somewhere. And then I made her break her wrist and now everything is weird.”

“Oh yeah I remember you said that, but you also said that she was about to reciprocate when you almost kissed, was she not?”

“I mean, yeah I think so, but she’s also been flirting with Joshua since he got here and he’s definitely been flirting back. What if I’m wrong and she wasn’t actually going to kiss me back?”

Soonyoung lets out a sigh behind Chan, watching as his younger friend visibly agonizes over his thoughts and self-doubt.

“Chan, listen, I’m going to be honest with you okay?”

“Why am I worried…”

“Because I’m about to tell you the truth!” Soonyoung waits for Chan to lock the studio door and turns to look at him. “You need to decide what you want to do. Either you’ll keep doing this weird will-they-won’t-they with her and not tell her how you feel and probably stress over her for the rest of your life or you tell her and see what happens. I know you’re worried about what she’ll say or how she’ll react, but is that better or worse than letting this eat you up forever?”

Chan scoffs, both options are terrible and he hates them equally, but at the same time, he really has to decide. Either option makes him uncomfortable and unhappy, but Soonyoung has a point, he’s just not sure which is the lesser of the two evils.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I think you should think about it again and figure it out. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with flirting unless she actually becomes his girlfriend or something, right?”

Chan mumbles something that even he finds unintelligible, but Soonyoung doesn’t press him to repeat himself. They walk the short distance to the parking lot on the side of the studio and bid each other goodbye, Soonyoung wishing him luck again.

Chan spends the entire drive home in silence, weighing the pros and cons of telling you how he feels versus not telling you. He’s had this internal battle with himself since you moved in and it’s always the same in each category.

You may hate him. He’ll make living with you awkward. He’ll fuck up his friendship with Hansol.

All the same negative scenarios play on repeat. The only pro (and the biggest, to be clear), would be that you feel the same for him or you’ll at least want to give him a chance. For Chan, it comes down to how much of a risk he wants to take here.

He’s not much of a risk taker usually, but he also can’t help but tell himself that you’re more than worth the risk. If he can get over his fear of the cons that is.

Chan is still deep in thought when he gets home. When he walks into the apartment, he can hear you talking in your room. The dock for the cordless phone sits empty on the side table next to the couch which tells him you’re using it.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, truly he doesn’t, but as he’s walking down the hall to his room, he overhears you mention Joshua’s name and the word ‘date.’ Chan freezes in his tracks, his heart beating rapidly at the implication. He knows he should go into his room and wait until you’re done to ask what the plan for dinner is.

Instead, he tiptoes to your room, the door ajar enough for him to listen without being seen.

“I’m not sure where he’s taking me. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I want to be surprised.” You chuckle and there’s a beat of silence as the person, who Chan assumes is Jinah, speaks. “I’m telling you, he looks so different now. Like, fuck I can’t even describe how good looking he is! And hello, he’s going to be a doctor!” More silence. “I mean, let’s not get crazy. We’re not eloping or anything, it’s just one date.” You stop talking before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Chan takes this as his sign to slink away, trudging to his bedroom to wallow. He tries to remind himself that you don’t even know how he feels, he’s never even told you about his feelings, so what right does he have to be upset about this?

Absolutely none, logically speaking. That doesn’t make the twinge of pain in his chest feel any more bearable.

It’s ten minutes to six when you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair and fastening your jewelry. You called Joshua earlier in the day to let him know that your doctor gave you the okay to take off your brace and that your wrist is feeling much better. You also asked if you should wear anything special for tonight. He advised that you didn’t need anything fancy, just whatever makes you feel good and some comfortable shoes. To be safe, you were going with thermal leggings and a nice sweater to stay warm and comfy.

With your bag and boots in hand, you leave your room and head down the hallway, intending to wait in the living room. The apartment is quiet with Hansol out for the night and Chan presumably in his room. You haven’t seen him much since he got home from work last night. He took his pizza into his room to eat it and you only saw him briefly this morning when he was coming back from the gym. You want to ask him if he’s okay, but you can’t seem to get a moment with him to do so.

As you reach the end of the hallway, Chan rounds the corner suddenly and you both let out a yelp, running into each other.

“Shit, sorry!” Chan steadies you when your shoes and bag fall out of your hand along with the book that had been in his. He quickly bends down to pick up your things and gingerly hands them over to you.

“Thanks,” you smile at him, forcing your eyes up to his face and not down to the black tank top that hugs his torso.

“Of course,” Chan smiles back, neither of you moving. He’s blocking the entryway into the living room, you tell yourself, so he has to move first.

He doesn’t and instead looks above your head, chuckling nervously.

“Huh?” You look up and catch sight of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. Who the fuck even put that there?

The two of you look from the mistletoe to each other, and then back up again.

“You don’t have to,” Chan starts, his neck turning a deep shade of red.

“I - I mean you neither, if you don’t want to. But if you do, since you know it’s tradition or whatever, we can. Only if you want!” You’re stammering at this point, hand gripping the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles hurt.

Your mind goes back to the ice skating rink and the moment the two of you shared. Chan’s reaction now might just reaffirm your thoughts from that day, but you try not to get too emotionally attached as you wait for his next words.

He doesn’t say anything, and instead, he answers with his movements. He looks into your eyes, so intensely you feel yourself squirm under his gaze. He starts to lean forward then, his face coming closer and closer to yours.

There’s your answer.

Nothing comes from the moment though, when the doorbell rings, making both you and Chan spring apart with wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you apologize to Chan as you shuffle past him and into the living room.

“One minute!” You call out to the door, assuming it’s Joshua. You fish your compact out of your bag to give yourself one more once over before you rush to the door and sure enough, you see Joshua through the peephole.

“Hi. You look beautiful,” are the first words out of his mouth when he sees you, eyes sweeping over your frame appreciatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome. And are those for me?” You gesture to the large bouquet in his hands and accept it when he holds it out to you.

“Thank you. And yes they are. I couldn’t just show up empty handed.” You thank him again and step back into the apartment to find somewhere to put your flowers. Chan is gone when you enter the living room again and you don’t see him as you find a vase in the kitchen and fill it with water, placing the bouquet in them before joining Joshua again and leaving with him.

Your date with Joshua is as normal as a date can get, but you don’t mind one bit. As he drives you to your destination, you fall into easy conversation as you ask him about his job. Right now, he’s working at his friend’s office until he’s done with school. Since he’s still getting his degree, he can’t legally do much medical wise, but he does volunteer at the hospital when he can to visit the kids and keep them company between surgeries and procedures.

He tells you stories from the hospital and you can tell just in the way he talks about the patients he’s spent time with that it’s something he really enjoys and is looking forward to doing full time. It’s admirable to see someone so in love with what they do and recall it in such a positive way. You know that when you recount stories from your time in the air and in different countries, it’s always with bittersweet words. There was so much you loved about being a flight attendant and so much you disliked, but Joshua talks about medicine with nothing but love.

Similar to how Chan speaks about dancing.

You push that thought away as soon as it conjures in your brain, refocusing back on your date.

Joshua takes you to a fancy looking Japanese restaurant and does everything right that you would expect. He makes sure to open your car door for you and the door of the restaurant. He pulls out your chair and tells you to order whatever you want, making it clear that he’ll be paying and brushing you off when you try to convince him to split the bill.

“Okay, Doctor Hong, you win. You’re more stubborn than me,” you joke after you both order.

He laughs, shrugging and making eye contact with you. “I asked you out, so I’ll pay. Simple as that. Maybe next time you can arrange the next date and you can pay.”

The idea of another date with Joshua hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re comfortable with him and are enjoying talking with him and getting to know him more, but you feel like there’s something missing that you can’t quite put your finger on.

That feeling persists during dinner, even through the shared laughter and the jokes and it sticks when you’re back in the car after dessert. It lingers as you chat on the way to the second, secret destination he has on the itinerary.

When Joshua eventually parks on the curb of a neighborhood you don’t recognize, you see a bunch of other cars parked and can see bright lights in the distance.

“Where exactly are we?” You try to read street signs around but don’t recognize them. Joshua offers his hand as he opens your door and you hesitantly take it, letting him escort you out. He doesn’t let your hand go as you walk down the sidewalk and get closer to all of the lights.

“I know you’re really into Christmas and decorations so I wanted to take you here,” As you walk closer to the lights, you finally start to notice that they’re Christmas decorations. It’s a whole street of houses adorned with bright lights and flashy decorations. “There aren’t too many people who go all out with the decorations here, but I happened upon this street when I got lost once and they do this every year. It reminds me of the way people back home in L.A. decorate their houses for the holidays.”

You nod, eyes taking in a house with sparking blue and white lights wrapped around every inch of their house. “Yeah, whenever we had layovers or rest periods in the U.S. for the holidays it was nice to see all the decorations out there. It’s why I made Hansol and Chan decorate the apartment. It makes the holidays feel more fun for me.” You laugh, sticking the hand not in Joshua’s in your coat pocket. “I don’t know, maybe that’s silly.”

“It’s not,” he insists, squeezing your hand. “I think it’s very cute and sweet.” Looking over at him out of the corner of your eye, he smiles warmly at you. Joshua is so good at making you flustered it’s almost illegal.

You keep your hand in his as you walk down the sidewalk, pointing out different decorations and your favorite houses. There are other people around you taking in the decorations, all other couples from what you can see. There’s one house that you get to towards the end of the street that’s the most dramatic looking of all. Twinkling, multicolored lights cover the house and an army of snowmen litter the yard, all draped in winter clothes with lights on them as accessories. Various blow-up decorations dot the yard, one of them even playing instrumental versions of classic Christmas carols. Paired with the December snow on the ground, the yard resembles a true winter wonderland and for a moment, you just focus on that and not the fact that your brain keeps wanting you to imagine taking all of this in with Chan.

You’re so focused on the wonder in front of you that you don’t notice the way Joshua admires your profile, smiling at the way your eyes sparkle as you admire the lights and decorations. Joshua takes the moment, turning to you and placing his fingers under your chin to turn your head towards him. The gesture catches you off guard, as does the kiss he leans down to place on your lips.

Joshua’s lips are plush against yours and so incredibly soft. He almost doesn’t feel real. His lips move against yours and you reciprocate, but that earlier, nagging feeling you’ve had since the restaurant comes back. The insistence that something here is missing and it’s even louder now that Joshua is kissing you. It’s especially hard to enjoy kissing him when your mind only wants to focus on your second almost-kiss with Chan earlier. You yearn so badly to feel his lips on yours and daydream about if they feel as soft as they look. You also can’t help but wonder if kissing Chan would make you feel things like fireworks. That consideration alone makes you notice the severe lack of them now. Guilt occupies your mind along with your thoughts of Chan and you notice just how little you feel from kissing Joshua.

As if he feels it too, he pulls away slowly, eyes immediately scanning your face.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“It’s just that, well I mean, you’ve seemed like your mind is only half here all night. I could feel it just now. Did I do something? I should’ve asked you before kissing you, I’m sorry.”

“No! No, Joshua it’s fine! You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise! You’re a great kisser anyway,” you mumble the last part, truly meaning it. Joshua chuckles and thanks you, but his expression gets serious again.

“I appreciate that and you are too, but I still feel like something is wrong.” He stares at you as if trying to read your mind and it makes you feel shy.

“It’s just…fuck, listen, Joshua, I have had a lot of fun tonight, okay? You’re easy to talk to and laugh with and I like hanging out with you, but I think maybe…there’s a spark between us that’s missing? I’m really sorry.” You gnaw on your bottom lip as you get your words out, worrying about how he’ll react.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make any indication that he’s upset at you. Instead, Joshua just nods and if anything, looks a little disappointed.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I’ve had a really fun time too. Even though I do genuinely like you, I’m not going to try and make you return my feelings. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to at least stay friends? I promise I can get over my crush.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad that I had you take me out like this and it was for nothing.”

“Hey, it wasn’t for nothing! I’m a little disappointed we can’t be more, but I still got to know you more. I mean it when I say let’s stay friends. It’s comfortable and nice hanging out with you. I promise I won’t make this weird. If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, when I take you home, I’ll drop you off and fuck off forever.”

You huff out a laugh, mostly in relief at how normal he’s taking your lack of interest. You study him for a moment, sincerity is easy to read in his expression.

Your shoulders relax as you nod, telling Joshua that you’ll gladly still be friends. This seems to put him at ease as well, letting out a sigh of relief. In your friendship travels, finding a dependable guy friend has been near impossible, so the idea of finally finding one means you can't just let the friendship slip away. You did genuinely enjoy spending time with him too.

You and Joshua finish the walk and any awkwardness you felt when the night started leaves now that the air is a bit clearer. Joshua doesn’t hold your hand, but he stays close and you appreciate that he genuinely meant he didn’t want you to feel weird around him.

After going around the block and taking a few selfies together (at Joshua’s request), you walk back to his car and he still holds the door open for you.

“What? Just because we’re friends this is still a date right?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes but laugh, nodding at his words. “Exactly. Now let’s get you home.”

Once back in the car, Joshua turns up the heat, both of you thawing as he starts the drive back to your apartment building.

At one point in your chatter as he takes you home, you compliment his gentlemanly behavior all night, telling him it’s honestly some of the most you’ve been wooed out of most other guys you’ve been with. Joshua frowns, citing how fucked up that is and how much guys fucking suck. You can’t help but laugh, noting that his level-headedness just adds to the fact that he’s the perfect guy for most women.

You voice this, adding: “If you’re still looking for someone special, my best friend just might fall in love with you if she meets you.” Joshua laughs, shooting you a brief look that you catch. “Yeah okay. I’ll tell her about you and let you know what she says.” You giggle.

“Sorry!” He winces, regretting his obvious expression. “Was that weird? Did I make it weird?”

“No, no! I don’t mind! I do think you’re a great guy and I love her and want her to be with a great guy. I don’t have a problem with you two going out. I’m just a little relieved to know you wanna talk to someone else so quickly. Makes me feel less bad about everything.”

“Hey, for real, don’t feel bad! I told you I’m going to be okay.”

“Ugh I know, I just feel bad because you paid for that fancy sushi and walked out in the cold and I’m curbing you.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to go home and write in my journal that you broke my heart. It was just a date, okay?”

Sighing, you finally accept his answer, deciding to let it drop, but still let him know you’re going to talk to Jinah about him.

“If you guys do go out and fall in love, try not to treat me like a third wheel, yeah?”

Chuckling, Joshua rolls his eyes at you as the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “She doesn’t even know my name yet, Y/n.”

“Yeah well, what I said still stands.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Mmhmm.” Joshua shakes his head at you and your triumphant sounding rebuttal. “Just make sure you don’t forget about your friends whenever you find someone.”

Frowning, you shake your head. “Oh, absolutely not. I’ve never even entertained abandoning my friends for a relationship. I’ll divide my time evenly between you guys and Ch-” Your lips clamp together like your mouth has been sewn shut, halting your words immediately.

Unfortunately, Joshua catches it, his eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear into his hairline. “Us and who?”

“No one.”

“That's obviously a lie. You were totally about to say someone’s name.”

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

You hit another red light and Joshua fixes you with a blank expression. “Really? You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Hey, this is still a date, remember?! What kind of date would I be if I talked about another guy?”

Joshua narrows his eyes once more before focusing back on the road as he accelerates and drops it, a suspicious look still on his face. You steer the conversation back to Joshua, getting him to tell you about his family back home a little more. He surely knows you’re deflecting but he doesn’t press you further.

The conversation leads you right to a parking spot in your complex near the building entrance. Joshua, ever the gentleman, opens your door for you and walks you inside.

When reaching the third floor, Joshua walks you to the door. He pulls you into a hug, saying again that he had a good time hanging out with you regardless of the outcome. He says that he’ll look forward to your call about Jinah and about hanging out again soon.

Things with Joshua may not have gone as intended, but you’re grateful that he’s understanding and not mad at the fact that you ended up not being interested.

“I will, promise. Get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night.” He waves at you as he starts to go, but turns quickly to look at you with a glint in his eyes. “And good luck with Chan.” He caps his sentence off with a wink and the moment leaves you flabbergasted. Did he just say Chan?!

“I - what about Chan?!” You can only hope you don’t look as panicked as you feel. Joshua doesn’t address your question, or what he said as he gets to the elevator, offering you a final wave and laughing as the door closes.

How the hell did he know that’s who you were talking about? You’ve never done anything to make someone think you like Chan, but clearly the response lets you know that maybe you’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. Has Chan noticed anything from you that would clue him in on your feelings for him being more than platonic? If so, you can only hope Hansol has been too… Hansol to notice it himself.

Chan’s lost count of how many times he’s paced the living room. He keeps trying to sit or do something else other than obsess over you, but nothing seems to be working. All he can think about is you out on a date, having fun, and developing feelings for someone other than him. He even called out of work tonight, telling Soonyoung he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Seeing the way Joshua just swept in after so long and snatched you up, just-like-that, legitimately made his head and stomach hurt. Chan knows for sure he is absolutely in love with you and the other almost-kiss he nearly shared with you proves it. He still didn’t recall where the mistletoe came from, but because of it, even if it wasn’t the proper result, he’s not exactly complaining. Well, not about the fact that you very clearly almost kissed him back.

He just feels like an idiot because he let you leave and is watching you slip away from him again and this time it’s to one of his friends. A friend that has more guts than him to step up and ask you out and tell you that he’s into you.

Chan hasn’t been brave enough to approach you and finally, finally try asking you out. The time when he was fourteen didn’t count because he was still a kid and you never saw him as anything other than your little brother’s annoying best friend that followed you around. Of course, you wouldn't have ever gone out with him.

But it’s different now. You’re both adults and you’re closer than that already. You seem to actually enjoy spending time with Chan and being around him for the first time in the entire time that he has known you and maybe, just maybe, he’d have a real chance with you.

His own cowardice stopped him from speaking up and allowed his older, much more confident hyung to do what he’s been too afraid to. It fucking sucked.

After you left, the only thing he’s done is stay up and stare at the TV, jealousy chipping away at him. Jealous that Joshua got to you before he could do it. Jealousy eats him up so much that he can’t feel relaxed no matter what he does. So, the only thing he thinks to do is sit up and wait for you.

As you enter the apartment, you expect the room to be dark, but you’re surprised to instead see Chan pacing around the living room with the TV playing a commercial.

When he turns upon hearing the door, you both freeze, his expression reading a deer in headlights.

“Y/n.”

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

His eyes are wide as he watches you slip your shoes off.

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, grabbing your hands when you step into the room. The gesture is the most contact you’ve had in a week and it lights up all of your senses. He guides you into the room, but the two of you stay standing. “I have some stuff I want to say, okay? It might sound weird and you might hate me and I might fuck up everything, but I’m going to explode if I keep this to myself anymore.”

“Okay…” Your hesitance is obvious, but you don’t walk away to take your hands out of his hold, so he takes this as a sign to continue.

“I, fuck I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it, but Y/n, the truth is that I’m still in love with you. It’s different from when I was a dumb kid. That was me being captivated by my best friend’s big sister who was so much cooler and more mature than me and was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. When you left for college and your career, it hurt, but I told myself to get over it. That it was just my first crush and first crushes eventually go away.

And I thought that was true until you moved back and I realized, ‘oh shit, I’m still into her,’ only now it’s worse because I got to know you, like really know you, and realized that you’re still that intelligent, mature, amazing girl, but now you’re a woman and you’re still the woman of my dreams. I’ve been trying so hard to show you that I still care for you without actually saying it because I was worried that you’d turn me down and I didn’t know if I could handle that, but seeing you go out with Joshua and potentially slip away from me for good again has been killing me all night and I can’t hold back anymore.

If you don’t like me back that is completely okay! I know Joshua hyung is handsome and smart and he’s going to be a doctor so like whatever, yeah I get it. I won’t make living with you weird at all! I’ll even steer clear of certain areas when you’re around if that makes you feel better. Just, you know, whatever you want. But okay, I’m done. Too many words.”

Chan wants the floor to open up right at this moment and swallow him given the way you’re looking at him. Wide-eyed and mouth in a firm line as you absorb his words.

“Dammit, Chan!”

“What?! Sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry I suck I-”

“Huh? No! I didn’t mean it like that! I said that because, well, I think that you succeeded in showing me how much you care for me because I’ve fallen for you over the past three months.” Chan’s eyes widen almost comically, but he doesn’t say anything. “ I tried to fight it given one, you’re my brother’s best friend, two we live together, and three, you’re younger than me and four, I just didn’t want to make things weird with all of us living together, but knowing you like me just makes me want to stop being so cautious.”

“Really?”

“Really. Spending time with you and getting to know you has only made me like you more. Being around you, spending time with you, talking with you, everything just feels so right when we’re together. It’s scary because I have never felt like this, but I want it. I want you, Chan. In every sense of the word.”

The shell shocked man across from you has to let your words sit in his brain for a bit before he fully registers what you’ve said. You like him too. You’ve fallen for him. Being with him feels right. You want him.

If this is a cruel dream, Chan would really appreciate it if he could wake up right now. He closes his eyes tightly, counting to three before opening again. Sure enough, you’re still standing in front of him, looking at him with expectant eyes, anticipating his next words.

“Sorry, I’m just letting this all sink in. I don’t think I thought you’d actually say you feel the same.”

You shrug, shooting him a small smile. “Me neither honestly. I thought for sure you had gotten over your crush on me and moved on to actual women who returned your feelings.”

“Me too, at first I mean. But like I said, just seeing you again had all of those feelings rushing back to me.”

“Well I’m extremely lucky then it seems.”

“So am I.” You both stand there, grinning at each other, unsure what to do next. You think about maybe kissing Chan, finally, but you wonder if that’s too fast and too presumptuous of you.

As if he can read your mind, Chan clears his throat, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away and taking a breath.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” He blurts out, but you still hear him.

“Please do!” You answer immediately, encouraged by the knowledge that he wants the same as you.

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately rushing over to you before you have too much time to think. Your back hits the wall in an effort to keep your weak knees from giving out. When Chan stops, right in front of you, you’re almost chest to chest. He’s so close that you feel the warmth that radiates from him.

His arm rests above your head, keeping you trapped, but leaving his other arm down, allowing you a way out if you wanted. Neither of you speak for a moment, both blinking at the other. You each need to decide what will happen next.

You both make that decision at the exact same time. Chan’s eyes stay locked on yours as he lowers his face. At the same time, your eyes flutter closed as you crane your neck up, allowing your lips to meet somewhere in the middle.

Your lips are still a little cold, Chan notes as your arms reach out in the tiny space between the two of you, and grasp the front of his t-shirt to pull him close, his body pressing you completely against the wall. He squeezes his eyes closed hard enough to hurt a few times in an effort to wake himself up from the dream that he feels like he’s having. He’s had more dreams than he can count about kissing you for as long as he can remember, so surely this is another one of those?

That thought is only sent away when your arms slip up his body and around his neck, fingers weaving into the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck and tugging. The action is like lightning through his body and helps keep him in the very real moment.

Kissing Chan feels the way that you think they describe in movies. They always describe it as feeling like the world around you fades away in a haze and your head feels fuzzy. All of the sounds you hear are like white noise or turn into muffled background noise. It’s cliché and something you don’t think you’ve ever felt until this moment. Kissing Chan feels right and you don’t think you ever want to kiss anyone else for a long time, if ever again.

His strong arms wrap around your waist as you melt into him, your lips moving together in perfect sync. Your hands move down to his biceps to steady yourself, fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can, which isn’t much but you try.

You stay like that longer than you think you can count. Both of you clinging to one another, making out against the wall like lovestruck, horny teenagers, even if that’s exactly what you feel like. Your heart hammers against your chest and your thighs squeeze together as the kiss ignites not only something in your chest, but in your panties too.

The kiss turns from soft and sentimental to heated quicker than either of you are brave enough to admit, but you’re not complaining. You’ve wanted each other for months (years for Chan) and are finally getting what you’ve dreamt of. Chan’s thick, muscled thigh wedges its way between yours. Your leggings may have been thick enough to avoid the cold, but they aren’t thick enough to keep you away from feeling him brush against your tender folds.

What sounds like a whimper slips out of you and gets swept away by Chan’s tongue and into his mouth. He swallows down sound after sound as he makes sure to nudge your pussy again and again and soon enough, you’re grinding down on him, sloppily riding his thigh as his lips stay connected to yours.

When you finally pull away, the first sound out of your mouth is a deep moan. Chan flexes his thigh in a way that tenses the muscles and he hits your clothed clit in the most delicious way.

“Fuck,” Chan pants as he holds your hips. His knee rests between your legs and against the wall to stay steady. You grind over Chan’s sweatpants again and with each sweet sound that slips out of your mouth, he feels himself getting painfully harder.

“Ch-Chan,” you manage out.

“Hmm?”

“I need more.”

“More? More what, baby girl?”

The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily, too easily, and your pussy throbs even harder. Riding his thigh feels fucking amazing and you know you can cum just like this, but you don’t want to just yet. You’d much rather cum around his cock. The playful part of you also wants him to be just as needy as you.

“More of you. Please, baby,” You lean up to place kisses on his neck. When you get to his jawline, you flatten your tongue right on the side of his chin, dragging it up his jaw, and landing on his ear lobe. Chan makes the prettiest, breathy whines as you tease him and it only makes you clench even more. When you stop and your teeth nibble on the shell of his ear, capping it off with a whisper of, “Please Channie,” Chan feels like he could explode, right then and there.

“Anything. Fucking anything for you” Chan mumbles his words before diving down to lavish your neck in kisses of his own, the tip of his tongue darting out occasionally to lap at your skin. He leaves sloppy kisses on your skin as he descends down to your chest, stopping briefly where your nipples sit behind layers of clothes.

He drops to his knees as he goes and doesn’t stop until he reaches your waist.

“Chan?” You’re surprised that this is how he wants you first. You expected him to finger you before anything, but he clearly wants to start elsewhere.

His hands move to grasp at your waistband, stopping before he actually undresses you. His eyes meet yours, fingertips meeting your bare skin underneath your sweater.

“Can I? I need to get my mouth on you so badly.”

“Fuck, yes. You better,” you demand in response, not even flinching at his request. The two of you easily slip your leggings and your panties down and off of you in one go.

Chan lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes widen at the sight of you bare and wet in front of him. His mouth waters at the glistening arousal he sees coating your lower lips and he almost gets lightheaded at the heady scent of you. Chan could die right here before even tasting you and even that would be okay with him.

“Chan, please I need you!” You beg, feeling self conscious under his stare. He doesn’t make you wait any longer and instantly dives between your folds, his tongue lapping at you harshly.

Your knees nearly buckle at the suction, a loud cry ringing out. He doesn’t hesitate at all, his tongue immediately plunging into your wet hole. Your head hits the wall with a thunk as Chan begins eating you out as if his life depended on it. He fucks you with his tongue with obvious vigor, his nose bumping into your clit with each turn of his head.

His hands cup your ass, pulling you closer to his face so he can reach deeper in you, damn near making out with your cunt. Chan grunts and groans into you as he slurps, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

“Fuck, Chan. Fuck you’re t-too fucking good,” Your fingers are in his hair again, knotting into his strands to hold his face against you. The action makes him dizzy, his cock painfully hard and begging to be released from the confines of his sweatpants.

When you cum, which isn’t very long from when he started devouring you, you think you almost pass out. Your vision whites out and your body feels like gelatin, almost falling forward. Chan keeps his grip on your ass, not stopping until you start to yank him away from your pussy.

“I am going to pass out if you keep eating me out like that!”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you,” he’s breathless when he speaks, licking his lips in the most obscene manner.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You tease, getting wet all over again as you observe the way his face glistens with your juices and his blown out pupils.

“You have no idea. But we’re not done yet, beautiful.”

Another simple pet name has you shivering and Chan notices, and he loves the way you react to him. He stands upright again and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he leads you to his bedroom. When he gets you in the room he brings you to his bed, pushing you and watching you bounce gently on his quilt. You start to undress what you had left on, keeping your eyes trained on him as you pull your sweater over your head and unhook your bra, tossing it somewhere in the room.

This is just like so many wet dreams he’s had, but this time it’s real life and almost too good to be true.

“You gonna just stand there and ogle me or are you going to get naked and come over here and kiss me?” You tease him, widening your legs to make room for him.

Chan’s eyes are glued to your pussy, still wet and shining for him, and he all but tears his clothes from his body and scrambles onto the bed without another thought.

“Sorry,” he says between kisses. “I was just admiring the goddess waiting for me on my bed,” You’re ready to tease him again, but he cuts you off when he lowers his head and his mouth suctions around one of your nipples, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off of the bed.

Eager lips lavish over the sensitive bud as his hand finds its way between your legs. He circles your entrance with a finger and repeats the motion a few more times before kissing his way over to your other nipple to give it the same amount of attention.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin. Your fingers tangle in his dark hair as he covers your chest in bites, licks, and kisses, his finger still teasing you.

As if sensing you about to complain, he finally lets your nipple go, kissing his way down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy again.

“Chan…” you sigh, feeling his tongue dart out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He takes the time to spend extra attention on your nub, stiffening his tongue and flicking at it at what feels like an inhumane speed.

Chan relishes the gorgeous sound of your cries for him, noises of pleasure mixed in with huffs of his name and whispers of curse words. He loves that these sounds are all for him and because of him. He already knew he’d get addicted to you if he ever was able to get you into his bed and this settles that. He needs to hear you like this for him until he passes away. Even then, he wants to be buried with a recording of your moans and whines.

He shifts on his stomach to get closer to your core and plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue again. The angle allows him room to grind against his quilt, pretending that it’s you he’s rutting against. His eyes slip closed as your thighs do the same around his head and he loses himself as he eats you out with a sense of excitement that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt about anything else.

Chan moves as if he didn’t do the same thing not even ten minutes ago and he only serves in pushing you so much closer to the edge faster than the first time. You call this out to him, tugging at his hair and it only spurs him on. He burrows between your legs even further, letting out more determined grunts that you feel throughout your entire body.

“Ch-Chan, fuck, I’m cumming! Right there, right there - I - fuck!” Your hands keep Chan trapped as you let go, legs spasming as he keeps at it, happily lapping up your release that covers his chin.

Out of breath, your body sags against the bed and you pry your legs open to let him up. “Shit, Chan enough. Come up here and fuck me already.”

“Yes ma’am.” His face is covered in you and his use of yes ma’am sends molten heat up your spine and between your legs again.

He leans over to his nightstand to fish out a condom, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m on the pill, just pull out?”

Your words could’ve very well been a spell with the way they make him dizzy, but he doesn’t question it and only breathes out a yes and positions himself between your legs.

“Are you okay? Tell me to stop at any time and I will, okay?” He checks your face to make sure you’re comfortable and when he sees you nod he starts to ease himself into you slowly.

When his bulbous tip slips in first, you’re instantly letting out small mewls that only intensify with each inch that Chan fills you with.

“Oh my fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible. Shit!” Chan grits his teeth as he takes his time entering you. When he’s finally filled you up to the hilt, he has to take a second and take a deep breath. He’s never felt so close to cumming this quickly since he was in high school. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you truly feel like nothing and no one he’s ever felt. Your soft velvet walls cradle him perfectly, clenching every now and again making him even weaker.

“Move, Channie,” you breathe out, lifting your hips a little to get him going. Chan sits up on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grabs a hold of your hips.

He starts slow as he fucks you, finding a pace that works for him. Once he gets it, which he does rather quickly, he’s relentless. His hips drive into yours at breakneck speed, balls hitting your ass which each thrust forward.

“Fuck, Y/n, baby, you feel like a fucking dream!” His compliment comes out high pitched as he says it, the sound of his hips slapping against yours almost drowning out his words, but you hear him.

“Yeah, fuck, you feel so good Channie. Fucking me so, so good!” Tears collect at the corners of your eyes as Chan bullies into you over and over again, shoving you further up the bed. “You’re such a good boy for m-me, aren’t you?”

Chan’s eyes cross at your praise, biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood just to keep himself from bursting inside of you at that moment. He nods like a madman, taking deep breaths to push back his orgasm. He’s so terribly close, but he refuses to cum without you.

He pants above you, eyes darting between your fucked out expression with your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open, your tits that bounce with each force of his body, to between your legs as he catches sight of himself disappearing into your heat. He catches sight of the white ring of arousal you coat around his dick and he feels himself getting closer and closer.

He’s dizzy with lust for you but still manages to check in with you, forcing out coherent words to ask how you’re doing. You reassure him you’re okay, praising him once again about how good he feels.

“H-harder, Channie. Fuck me harder!”

As with anything else Chan does for you, he doesn’t need you to ask twice as he readjusts his knees before leaning forward to bend at the waist, making sure your legs are still secure around his waist. He leans down, his hands on either side of your head as kisses you, the new angle allowing him to thrust into you at a harder pace.

“Just like that, Chan! Fuck me like that!” Your words tumble out of you in a garbled mess, but he hears you loud and clear. The sensation of your nails digging into his back as you hold him closer sends him into a frenzy as he continues his brutal pace. His new position also allows his pelvis to brush against your clit hard enough to send you over the edge all the way.

“I’m - Y/n, I’m so close. I’m -”

“Me too, Channie, me too. Want you to cum. Wanna see you and hear you,” you cry out, each word almost cut off with a moan.

When you cum, your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and your eyes squeeze shut, stars erupting behind your lids as your body almost convulses underneath him. Your muscles hurt with how hard your body stiffens and your brain only focuses on the drag of Chan’s cock against your hyper-sensitive walls.

The sight alone and your chant of Chan’s name has him cumming next. He pulls out, desperately jerking himself off over you before he panics.

“Wh-where can I?”

“Anywhere, baby! Anywhere you want,” As soon as the last word leaves your lips, Chan yells out your name, his warm seed spurting out and landing on your stomach, some of it even hitting right under your breasts as he milks himself over your body. If you weren’t so tired you’d suck him off to overstimulate him, but for now, you just admire how stunning Chan looks. Skin flushed and chiseled jaw clenched as he empties himself onto your sweaty body.

As he cums, Chan tears up a little because holy shit you’re the best feeling he’s ever felt, and being inside of you is like an out of body experience. He’s no virgin, but this is the first time he’s slept with someone who he has such a strong emotional connection with. It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced in his life, he thinks.

Once he’s released everything he possibly can, Chan rolls off of you and flops next to your spent body.

“Holy shit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath. “I think my soul has officially left the building.”

“Oh, I know mine is gone. It was gone the moment you let me kiss you.” Giggling, you glance over at Chan who’s already looking at you.

“I’ll always let you kiss me now. How can I not?” Chan grins wide enough at you that you think his mouth should probably hurt. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh.

Chan tilts his head at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just admiring how cute you are,” As if not expecting that answer, Chan gets a little shy, eyes looking away from you as you see the tips of his ears reddening. You can’t help but lean up and place a kiss on his ear and he jumps at the light peck. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed. You can sleep in my room tonight and we’ll wash your sheets tomorrow. Sound good?”

Chan nods so aggressively, that you almost question how his neck is feeling. He reaches for his tissues on the side table and wipes the cooling cum from your body. He then helps you up from the bed and tosses you one of his towels, wrapping one around his waist.

When you have the towel covering yourself, you both step into the hallway only to freeze when seeing Hansol coming down the hall, and he stops too. He takes notice of the two of you, standing there holding towels over yourselves, and lets out a laugh. He takes his headphones off and lets them drape about his neck, the sound of “All the Small Things” filling the silence between the three of you.

“I take it the mistletoe worked?”

You and Chan share an incredulous look before turning back to your brother.

“You put the mistletoe up?!” You gasp. You had just accepted the fact that you put it up and forgot, but it’s nice to know you aren't going completely insane.

“Well, it was Soonyoung’s idea. He called earlier and told me to put it up somewhere both of you would end up. I wasn’t sure at first, but it looks like it worked.”

“I mean…kind of. But I have so many questions.”

“Ask them later. I’ve been home for a little while but didn’t wanna come into the hallway and uh, interrupt.” Hansol frowns and continues on to his room. Your brother halts his steps before going in and fixes you both with a look. “Oh, and I only have two things to say. One, Chan, if you hurt my sister I will kick your ass. And I’m telling Cheol hyung,” Chan lets out a small squeak and salutes Hansol, promising he’ll treat you like a queen. Hansol nods and then continues. “And two, can y’all like, I don’t know, leave a sock or something on your doors when you’re gonna do this? I came in and heard some noises I never want to hear my sister and best friend making ever again so just give me a chance to put my headphones on.”

“Ugh, sorry,” you grunt, your face heating up in mortification.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Glad you guys can stop trying but failing not to flirt in front of me. Now goodnight and please keep it down for the night, I’m begging you.”

You and Chan promise your brother that you’ll be considerate and he thanks you before shuffling into his room for the night.

“He took that better than expected,” you observe as you and Chan move into the bathroom.

“Yeah. Honestly, I was expecting him either to be grossed out or do something very out of character and hit me or something.”

You snort, turning on the shower water and hanging up the towel you’ve been holding against your body. “Hansol hasn’t swung on anyone or anything since he was at least seven and that was at our old neighbor’s bird because it tried to land on his head.”

Chan cackles at the thought, but it’s quickly replaced with a low sigh as he watches you tuck your hair into a shower cap to keep it from getting wet. Watching you stand in front of him, naked and just existing comfortably makes both his heart beat out of his chest and his dick uncomfortably hard.

You at least can notice the latter, eyes playfully observing his length between his legs. “Someone has an impressive bounce back period.”

“I can’t help it. I have a beautiful, sexy woman standing naked in front of me. What do you want me to do?”

The bathroom isn’t that big so when you brush past Chan, it’s not hard to brush against him. Your thigh grazes his erection and he groans louder than intended, slapping his hand over his mouth when the sound comes out. You can’t help but giggle as you slip into the shower watching him still stand there and gawk at you.

“What you can do is, come join me in this shower and fuck me against this wall, but only if you can be way quieter than you just were.”

The sentence doesn’t even have a chance to finish completely before Chan is practically leaping into the shower, body crowding yours against the tile wall.

“Anything for you, Y/n.” He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses, biting the skin as he goes.

“Mmm, you have got to stop saying that to me, Channie. You’ll spoil me.”

Chan pulls away, eyes meeting yours with the most serious expression you’ve seen from him since he confessed his feelings for you earlier this evening.

“Good. I want to spoil you and I will until I physically can’t anymore.” Chan rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to enjoy being close to you as the shower water warms your skin.

“Only if you let me do the same to you, baby.” His eyes flutter at the pet name and you love the way it seems to make his skin flush more.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, existing? Making me the luckiest man in the world? All of the above?” It’s your turn to get sheepish at his words, playfully pushing against his firm chest.

“Thank you, Chan. You treat me differently from so many other people I’ve been with and you make me feel special.” You hope he understands just how true your words are. The way he’s treated you since you moved in has been with nothing but care and affection, even before knowing he still likes you. Chan is a truly amazing guy and you consider yourself lucky that he wants you in his life like this.

“You are special and you should feel that way. I’ll make sure to keep doing it. And I’ll make sure you feel amazing and special in every way.” Warm hands slide down your body and slip between your legs to rub gentle circles against your clit. The whiplash from the tender moment to the not-so-tender startles you for only a moment before it’s replaced with want as Chan works you up.

Chan’s dancer hips are something to be studied and worshiped with the way in which he drills into you under the spray. You had teased him with being quiet, but you’re the one that needs to sink your teeth into the thick skin of his shoulder to stop from yelling his name.

He laughs between thrusts, but when you clench around him in retaliation, his pace falters and he pouts down at you. You kiss his pout away, keeping your lips together as you both cum, swallowing the possible noise complaints you’d have received otherwise.

Even if Hansol had lectured you both about your noise level, it’d be worth it, especially when you see the blissful look on Chan’s face as he gazes at you. Eyes full of wonder, tiredness, and above all else, love. Even though it hasn’t been long at all, you’ll be surprised if he can’t see the same shining back up at him.

Time seems to fly by, and Christmas suddenly creeps up on you. Thankfully, you finish your shopping before the last minute and get everything you need to, done. You and Chan spend the time leading up to it doing as many cute, coupley things that you can think of while Hansol does his best to not be a third wheel. He rarely ever is, but you’re thankful for the support from your brother nonetheless.

On Christmas morning, Chan is up first, already wide awake and looking at you when you open your eyes. It’s cute if not a little surprising at first. He at least lets you brush your teeth and make yourself decent before ushering you into the hallway. He knocks loudly on Hansol’s door as he passes, telling him it’s time for presents.

His excitement is incredibly endearing and it warms your heart to see him so eager to sit you down on the couch and present you with your first gift from under the Christmas tree. The first box is a small square, secured with a red sparkly ribbon. When you take the lid off, a CD looks back at you in a red, jewel tone case. You smile as you take it out and turn it over, seeing a note on the back along with the tracklist.

Songs for the only woman who’s ever owned my heart. Merry Christmas, Y/n. Love, Your Channie

Tears prick your eyes at the gesture. It’s a small gift, but it’s personal. You don’t think you’ve had anyone make you a mixtape and yet again, it just proves how sweet Lee Chan is.

“Thank you Channie,” you pucker your lips and he eagerly leans down to kiss you, almost tripping into your lap in the process. “Oh!” He jumps up, running back to the tree for another box, this one wrapped in white ribbons. Inside is another rectangle box, but in that is the gift.

“Chan?!”

“You like it?” He asks, taking the bracelet out of the box before you can answer. He gestures to your wrist and you present it, letting him clip the shiny, diamond tennis bracelet. “The sales lady said they’re really popular for the “special ladies in your life” this year and I thought you’d like it since you like pretty jewelry.” You give Chan a watery smile, stopping yourself again from nearly crying. Instead, you get up and pull him into a hug, squeezing his waist hard.

“I love it, thank you Chan,” When you pull away, it’s your turn to go to the tree to retrieve his gifts.

“But I’ve already gotten the greatest gift I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he gestures to you with a flourish, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Guess that means I should return these presents then huh?” You dangle both boxes in the air, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean…you already bought them and wrapped them though so you may as well just…” he makes grabby hands at the boxes and you can’t help but laugh, handing over both gifts to him.

The first one he opens has a shiny silver watch in it that you saw in the mall with Jinah weeks ago and thought of him. It’s your turn to help him as you put it on his wrist, both of you admiring it. He mentions that it’s the nicest watch he’s ever owned and that he’ll never take it off.

When he gets to the other small box, he opens it to see an envelope sitting in the middle of the tissue paper. Curiously, Chan opens it pulling out what’s inside and he nearly passes out.

“Michael Jackson tickets?!”

“Yeah! I heard people at work talk about it like two months ago. He’s going to be in Seoul this summer! I was getting them for you whether we ended up together or not because I know how much you love him. You deserve it!” You beam at him and watch as tears well in his eyes this time. “Aw, Channie!”

Chan jumps from the couch to pull you into a bear hug at the same time that Hansol comes into the living room.

“Hyung, I have to tell you now, but I’m going to marry your sister,” he says in a serious tone.

“Chan!” Laughing, you squeeze his arms, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

“Fine as long as you still stick by my rules.”

“Hansol!” Both men purposely ignore you as they discuss your fictional wedding and Chan brags about his concert tickets. The whole moment fills you with an indescribable warmth, even when Chan finally releases you and lets you sit on the couch.

You didn’t anticipate that you’d end up here when you first thought about leaving your career, but you’re glad you did. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than here on Christmas with your two favorite men.

“The ball is going to drop soon!” Seungkwan announces to your group. He turns the volume of the TV up as the countdown shows on the screen.

It’s New Year’s Eve and your large group of friends is huddled in Jinah’s living room to ring in the New Year. You hadn’t known where you’d be ringing in the year 2000 initially and had anticipated it’d be at home, but with Jinah and Joshua dating and being almost inseparable for the last two weeks, she found herself hanging around the rest of the guys as much as you have and since her apartment is the biggest, she had everyone come here.

You’re sitting next to Chan on her couch as you pull your drinks closer. Seungkwan and his partner sit together holding hands, nervously checking the clock on the wall and looking back at the TV. The two of them, Seokmin, and one of their other friends named Mingyu all found out about Y2K around the same time and have been preparing for it leading up to tonight. No matter how many times you, Hansol, and Joshua try to tell them you’ll all be fine, you let the group of conspiracy theorists have their beliefs, knowing once the new year rolls in, they’ll be fine.

Chan often makes fun of them, but you also never miss the way his eyes widen when they talk about the computers exploding and the world ending.

“Three…two…one, happy new year!” Everyone’s voices echo throughout the room as you count down to the new year together, noisemakers and cheers following.

Chan turns towards you, his lips meeting yours as you share your first kiss of the new year. His hands cradle your face, tilting your head back just the slightest to deepen the short yet sensual kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” He says against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Chan.”

Around the room, the rest of your friends are pouring more champagne and you catch sight of Seungkwan and his partner still sharing their New Year’s kiss, both smiling, likely in relief. Joshua and Jinah are on the other side of the room, her head resting on his shoulder as they watch the fireworks on TV. Chan redirects your attention back to him to kiss you once more, this one quicker yet just as sweet.

And just like that the world doesn’t end, much to Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan’s (and Chan’s) relief, but your new world with Chan in it has just begun. You’re looking forward to what the new millennia and life with Chan will bring.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf | Taglist: @aaniag

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margowritesthings · 1 year

Text

The Greatest Gift A Cowgirl Could Ask For

a @rdrevents Valentines gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 4,400 words warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, sexual themes, vaginal sex, mentions of death, unprotected sex, throwing up (TW EMETOPHOBIA), very brief mention of SA in the past, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of Micah Bell a/n: am I britney spears in her 2000 grammy award winning song??? because oops, i did it again. i don't know how I managed to get Bea as my recipient for a SECOND time, but it only felt right to carry on building this universe I've made for her and lying to her about it all week. Whoops.

Bea, my beloved, Happy Valentines Day. You deserve the world and Im so glad I could dedicate this fic to you. Honestly I probably couldn't have gotten the motivation to get back on my feet and write again if it wasn't for you. Thanks for everything you do bby and I hope this lives up to your 'if by some miracle you get me for your gift exchange disregard my prompts and write a TGG prequel' (yes she actually said that) idea. Love you lots xxx

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @luvliewriting @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @snobbybastard

My Darling Wife,

I’m writing to you from up near Tempest Rim. I’ve tracked this bounty all over the goddamn Grizzlies and I’m ready to come home to you. I miss you so much and I’m real sorry I can’t be home in time for St. Valentines. Hopefully I can catch this bastard soon and make it up to ya. We’ll go to the theatre and sit right at the back, how’s that sound? I’ll move heaven and Earth to be beside you soon, you know I will.

I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can be with enough money to take you out on the town. Won’t be long, I promise.

All my love, Arthur

Your finger runs over his looped script, over and over as if it will somehow will your husband out of the crumpled paper and into your bed. It’s been 2 months since the letter arrived, 2 months of the agony of not knowing if he’s dead or alive robbing you of sleep each and every night. You miss him, more than you could ever imagine one person could miss another and you honestly don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t come home.

It’s a 600 dollar bounty, it’s sure to be a tough job you constantly reassure yourself, unable to focus on anything but the absence of half of your very soul in every waking moment.

The day he comes home starts like any other. Time's arrow marches on, the sun rises and sets over your makeshift family as they work and plan and rob and hunt. You busy yourself planning a job with Karen, cushioned into your schedule between menial tasks so that it’s just that bit easier to not think about him. As usual, your efforts are in vain, but at least the chores are done, your steed Diesel is happy, and, all being well, you and Karen will have about 30 dollars to split between you when the week is out.

An hour before he comes home, everyone retires to bed, save for John (who’s on watch tonight) and you’re left alone by the campfire. It crackles and pops, embers swirling the air around you. It feels like you stare at the twisting flames until your eyes blur and burn and you can’t tell which are tears of irritation to your senses and which are your heart breaking once more.

Moments before you’re reunited with the second half of your heart, you hear John yelling. It’s instinct that drives your hand into your holster, still resting against your hip despite the late hour, and you perk up like a startled deer, straining to decipher Marston’s words.

“Who is it?!” “Arthur, you dumbass!”

Arthur.

Arthur?

“Arthur?!” It’s a breathless shout, barely heard over the rushing blood in your ears as your feet take you to your husband before your mind can even fathom that he’s here.

But sure enough, when you reach the edge of camp, heart racing, you see Arthur Morgan riding his chestnut mare straight towards you, spurring her into a gallop as soon as he lays his eye on his waiting wife. Marston probably makes some remark about who ‘decided to show up’, but to you, there is nothing but you and Arthur, two magnets parted by an unnatural force finally reaching each other again with a deafening crash.

And it is. A crash, that is, when Arthur all but throws himself off his saddle and your bodies collide, great big arms wrapping around your frame. It is then that the tears fall down your cheek, soaking into Arthur’s coat that smells so much like him it truly feels like a dream.

You thought he was dead.

Only when you’re safely in his arms, when he’s pressing frantic kisses to your head, whispering your name over and over into your hair do you allow yourself to admit that fact. You thought he was never coming back, and yet here he is. Words fail you, the overwhelming emotion settling right in your throat.

“Oh, god… oh, darlin’ I-I missed you so much…”

You feel two large hands cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that holds everything and anything the past 3 months could have been had you not spent it apart. But everything fits back into place, the world starts spinning again and you’re whole the second Arthur Morgan’s lips meet yours. It lasts a lifetime, it lasts a fraction of a second. You want to stop time, keep Arthur in your arms forever and never again have to go through the torture of being away from each other. The two of you only part to throw near identical scowls at John, who is amusing himself by telling you to get a room.

Unfortunately, as Ms. Grimshaw so often reminds you all, the Van der Linde Camp is not a hotel, so tonight you will not be afforded the luxury of a private suite as John so kindly suggested. There is only your tent, hitched against the gang’s weapons wagon, the old canvas pulled around to offer a little privacy when you and Arthur first started… well, needing the seclusion.

Calloused fingers intertwine with your own digits, Arthur’s other hand flipping John off before his weight pulls you towards your little corner of camp. There's so much purpose in his stride, the need to have you all to himself, not even share you with the lord above or wildlife below, driving him forward. Driving him home.

When you’re finally, truly alone, the tears welling in your eyes glistening in the candlelight, no words are needed. Soon enough, you’ll talk for hours on end, catching each other up on every little detail of the last few months. But for now, all that there is and all that could matter is right this very second, when Arthur reaches for you, brushing a thumb over the tear tracks on your left cheek. His eyes, looking almost emerald in the dark of night, roam over each and every detail of you with such an intensity in him that you think he’s trying to remember this moment for the rest of time. You’re sure it’s one you could never possibly forget.

Arthur snakes both arms around your waist, guiding you backwards until the backs of your knees gently hit the cot and you lay back onto it. He covers the full length of you and then some, making you feel so fragile and small. It’s nice to feel breakable for once, to let go of the need to be the strongest in the room, lest you be ridiculed for being too sensitive or too weak or too womanly. Arthur knows just how strong you are, you need to prove nothing to him, so you can submit to his embrace, allow yourself to just breathe for once knowing you can break and there’s re will always be somebody to put you back together.

He lowers himself to your lips, pressing a kiss to them that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Arthur then kisses your nose, then your cheeks and chin, before trailing down to the crook of your neck. Your skin feels as though it’s on fire, so starved for the man you cannot live without that now he’s finally here everything feels that much more intense. The tiniest scrape of Arthur’s teeth against your flesh shoots through every single nerve in your body and you moan right into his ear. You can actually feel him harden against your thigh at the sweet melody of your pleasure.

Pushing Arthur’s hat off to the side, your fingers rake through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp encouragingly as he nibbles at your skin.

“Oh, Arthur… Oh, I missed you so much…” You breathlessly whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat when he pauses his movements to glance at you from under impossibly long eyelashes, jade green eyes glistening up at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So so much.” His voice is soft, as if he’s handling the peacefulness around you so delicately and it causes the overwhelming emotion to well in your chest and choke up your throat. Arthur sees this, trying not to be too taken with his own surprising amount of emotion himself, and relieves you of your job of a response by directing his attention to the buttons of your shirt. You don’t remember him pushing your jacket off your shoulders, but there it lies on the floor beside the entrance to your tent, so he must have.

Despite the juxtaposition of such dainty buttonholes and such large fingers, Arthur expertly undresses your top half until you’re bare to him. He takes no time at all to take one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking at it with a hunger you feel right in your toes. You moan loudly, unable to stop yourself after yearning for this very feeling for so long.

Arthur coos and shushes you and it vibrates across your skin, not helping you stay quiet in the slightest. The hand not tugging on his dirty blonde locks reaches between your two longing bodies to begin to unbuckle his belt. You can feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, your coil growing tighter and tighter by the second. It’s been almost 3 months since your bodies have joined like this, and yet you’re not sure you can wait another minute.

You’re purring for Arthur, twitching and grinding as your hand fumbles desperately at the belt. His absence from your skin is agony the second he pulls his hips back to sit up straight. Spotting your downright bratty expression, bottom lip protruding in a pout, Arthur chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby… I gotta get these damn clothes off us.” He gestures to his belt, still very much buckled around his waist. Definitely not your fault. He was being far too distracting.

He’s quick, you’ll give him that, shedding his clothes without taking his eyes off you. You burn under his stare, even more so when he crawls back on top of you to slide your boots off one by one and peel your pants and undergarments down your legs.

The heat radiates off his huge body, his cock pulsing with need. The way he’s putting his weight into his arms to stop from crushing you with his weight adds a definition to his already beautifully sculpted body. Reaching down, you brush the tip of your finger oh so gently over his rosy head, finding a bead of cum already leaking, and you snap. You can’t wait a second longer, scratching and gripping at him like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Please, Arthur, please I need you. S-So long, it’s been so long-” “Shh, I know, princess, I know. I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna take care of your pretty little cunt, I promise.” He soothes you, though his own voice is shaky from the very effort of restraining himself, maintaining his control to not drive into you and ruin you. While he whispers to you, he lines himself up at your entrance and you quiver in anticipation.

In all your years before you met Arthur, you never really saw sex as anything but something to give, or worse, something to be taken from you. You never truly understood, not until you met Arthur, who taught you it’s something to share, to experience. With Arthur, it’s different. It is connection and pleasure and it’s wonderful and god damn it, it’s addictive. So when Arthur slides into you, letting out a visceral, guttural groan as he does, everything is right in the world.

You feel so full, especially when Arthur pushes all the way to the hilt, connecting you completely at the pelvis. The moan that escapes your lips is downright obscene and Arthur crashes down into your mouth to swallow it.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long, or the emotion of it all, but you swear you can feel everything. Every vein and ridge, every twitch and movement of his perfect cock as Arthur slowly starts to move in and out of you.

“Fuck… s-so good, darlin. So tight- y’feel so fucking good, princess…”

You’ve never hurtled so close towards a climax so quickly in your life. His torturously slow, deep thrusts drag into your sweet spot every fucking time and trying to hold back brings a blur into your vision. Your own hips grind against his, Arthur gripping into your flesh to guide you perfectly in time with him.

“I-I’m so close already, Arthur… fuck…” You breathe out, your breath tickling Arthur’s ear and sending a visible shudder down his spine. He looks proud at your admission.

“You missed me that much, huh? Gonna cum for me already, darlin’?”

He gives you no time to respond, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing in time with everything else. You implode, pulling Arthur down to catch the scream you’re about to wake everybody up with. It has never felt so intense, and with every thrust Arthur fucks into you it only grows and grows, shattering you to pieces for Arthur to fix back together again.

When you return, a rhythmic thudding in your ears, the first thing you see is Arthur, of course. His jaw is fluttering madly, a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead but the candlelight makes him look ethereal. You still can’t believe he’s here, alive.

Tears start to glisten in your eyes. You’ve never cried during sex before, not for anything positive, at least, but somehow this doesn’t feel wrong. Arthur slows again, watching you, and you spot an extra shine to his own jade orbs. He knows. He feels it too.

He’s right there with you. As he always is.

He brushes a piece of hair stuck to your forehead away, and the gesture is enough to send the tears falling down the same worn path on your cheeks as before.

“I love you, Mr. Morgan…” “I love you, Mrs. Morgan…”

It seems to become too much for Arthur to stay still, and you’re glad for it. You’re desperate for the friction, already flying towards another orgasm. He’s really fucking into you this time, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. He’s groaning and growling and you decide in that moment that it’s your favourite sound in all the world.

“I… I ain’t gonna last much longer, baby…”

“C-Cum in me…” “Huh?” He slows, shuddering at the exertion required to control his movements, “I-”

But you’re not listening to his protests, your nails digging into the skin of his back and ass and anywhere else you can reach to urge him forwards again.

“Please Arthur, I-I need you… I need you to cum with me, I need you with me…” you plead with him, not truly understanding your need but honouring it. You’ve been without him for so long, you deserve him with you now.

He appears to consider you for just a moment, before diving down to lock your lips with his. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting every bit of you and he starts to pump into you unreservedly. His body grinds against yours and the friction is perfect and you’re so fucking full and before you can even try to hold back, you’re cumming again, stars scattering your vision, heart pounding out of your chest to find release from it’s mortal, physical cage. Your inner walls twitch around Arthur’s length and this time, he doesn’t hold back either.

His eyes fly open and lock onto yours as you both climax together. It’s vulnerable and strange, but perhaps more connected than you ever thought possible for two people to be.

Arthur’s cock twitches inside you, pumping out his spend as he groans viscerally, completely losing control of his rhythm as he thrusts into you one last time, harsh and deep. You’ve never experienced this before, with Arthur or any other man, normally erring on the side of caution when it came to such matters, but even as you come down you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Whatever you and Arthur just experienced together felt spiritual, and worth much more than a little risk.

Arthur collapses, even as depleted as he is still considerate enough to collapse onto his elbows and not crush you. He slides out of you, earning a little wince, and rolls to the side so you can rest your head on his chest. It’s like a locket that’s been ripped apart, finally fixed together with the most satisfying click.

═══════☆═══════

Two months later, life has returned to its equilibrium. You and Arthur are perhaps clingier, still in a sort of second honeymoon phase where you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, more so than usual. It’s a side effect of prolonged solitude, you’re sure.

The first time it happens, you blame Pearson and think nothing of it. It’s pretty early in the morning and you’re sitting with Tilly and Abigail, peeling potatoes for the stew tonight. Abigail is venting her frustrations about when John did this and John said that, and everything feels so normal. Pearson arrives, throwing a rather large, rather dead fish onto the table you’re leaning against and you feel the thud from the weight of it vibrate against your back.

It isn’t until the smell invades your senses that everything starts to feel off. It smells exactly like all the other fish Pearson has ever slammed onto that poor table, which doesn’t explain why you immediately lurch forwards, grabbing an empty bucket and throwing up your breakfast. The fish stench is suffocating and all you can do is get the hell away from it, not noticing when Abigail’s brows knit together almost… knowingly?

You skip the stew that night.

―

The second time it happens, you try not to think about it. You’re riding Diesel and almost don’t make it off him in time. There is nothing to set you off, no horse shit or rotting animal at the side of the road, and yet in an instant your stomach feels like it has been flipped upside down.

The sheer volume of your retching catches Arthur’s attention and he tugs on the leather reins in his hands to steady his mare.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?”

His concern is evident in his tone and in the tight line between his brows, which deepens when he finds you unable to respond in anything but a frantic nod. He dismounts, spurs clicking against the dusty ground when he approaches you.

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s it, easy, easy… you’re okay…”

You feel gentle circles rubbed into the tense muscles of your back as you try to get through this again. It’s not lost on you that Arthur is speaking to you like a spooked horse, but it actually really does help. (You decide to prioritise peace of mind and not psychoanalyse why that is). Eventually, it relents and you regain your composure, albeit somewhat less gracefully than you’d have liked.

“Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, maybe I ate somethin’.”

Your apology for something you can’t help earns you a sad smile from your husband, who places a loving kiss on the top of your head before reaching for your discarded hat and putting it back on for you.

“Y’don’t gotta apologise. I gotcha, darlin’.”

You know he does.

He always does.

―

The third time it happens, the luxury of denial is stolen from you. It’s early enough that your view while you sit with Abigail drinking coffee involves glorious hues of orange and pink scattered around the rising sun. It’s peaceful, tranquil. The warmth of the little metal mug in your hands and Arthur’s jacket around your shoulders is enough to ward off the fresh morning chill in the air.

There is absolutely no warning when it hits, when it happens again. You’re so goddamn sick (no pun intended) of hurling. Your eyes water and your throat hurts a little and you curse under your breath when it’s over. Abi is beside you, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. She waits until it’s over before speaking hesitantly.

“Uh, can I ask you somethin’?”

You nod, eyes still red and glistening as you swirl coffee around your mouth to take away from the awful, acidic taste lingering.

“When did you last bleed?”

“What, like an injury? Uh, I cut my hand couple days back, but I don’t see what-“

… Oh fuck.

═══════☆═══════

The anxiety bounces around your body and you decide that you’ve become far too acquainted with the concept of nausea. You can actually tell the difference between nerves twisting your stomach and… well, let’s say it as it is: morning sickness. This is the former, you deduce, spinning both your engagement and wedding ring around your finger to give your hands something better to do than carve fingernail-shaped moons into your palm. He should be home any minute now. Any minute now and it will all change forever.

It’s quite late, but the poker game Arthur was scoping out for potential jobs is known to last a while. You’re the only one still awake, poking the embers of the campfire to keep yourself as comfortable as possible.

You hear hooves hitting dry dirt first, and it seems to trigger your fight or flight response. God, you’d love to run away from this, but that is pretty much impossible, so fight it is. It’ll be the greatest fight of your life, you’ll soon learn, one you’re privileged to be a part of. But right now, it feels like an all-consuming unknown.

Arthur can tell something is wrong the second he sees you. You’re terrible at hiding things, especially from him. He always reads you as though you have a poster advertising your feelings printed on your forehead. Arthur dismounts, kissing you tenderly on the temple and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’re you still doin’ up, darlin’? Is everything alright?” You can feel his worry vibrating in his chest as you nuzzle into his embrace.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just… Can we talk? I kept the fire goin’.” You say it into his shirt, reluctant to move from this hold.

“Of course…” there’s something in his voice, a tense apprehension that really doesn’t help the knot contorting itself in your gut.

While you’re more than capable of keeping a fire going, Arthur is an expert, and has it healthily burning within seconds of you sitting down on the overturned log the gang has fashioned into a bench. You’re back to spinning your beautiful gold bands around your finger, trying to remember to breathe in and out every so often.

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” His voice is so soft, so kind that it makes you want to cry. But you promised yourself you wouldn’t until you’d told him, because this might just be the most important conversation you’ve ever had, and you definitely won’t get through it if you’re a blubbering mess.

“I, uh… I… somethin’s happened.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat and Arthur leans towards you, completely enveloping your hands in his. They’re sandwiched in now and you can’t fiddle with your rings anymore.

“What? What happened? Was it Micah? If he’s said somethin’ to you, I’ll kill him, the rat bastard-”

“No, no, it’s… as much as I’d love to see that, it’s not him.”

The tension releases. Just a little bit.

“I’m pregnant.”

Oh wait, there it is.

The silence is deafening, even though you’re almost certain it isn’t actually silent out here right now. There's a fire going and crickets are just metres away, you’re just shutting down with nerves.

The normally so often tense, fluttering jaw of Arthur Morgan is slack, his eyes wide and gaping at you, occasionally flicking down to your so far bump-less belly. (You should know- you’ve been obsessively looking in a mirror any chance you get for some sort of sign that this is really happening).

Say something. Please say something. Please don’t be angry. Oh, God please don’t hate me.

“I-I… You’re pregnant?” He repeats, reassuring you that you haven’t actually gone deaf, though his tone holds no indication of anything but shock. That’s probably fair…

You nod, hands instinctively reaching over your belly. It feels… weird. Holding your hands over your baby. Yours and Arthur’s baby.

“It happened a couple months back, when you got back from The Grizzlies, I think… I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I shoulda’ been more careful and-and…” You’re rambling, filling a silence that probably should just be allowed to be a silence.

“There… There’s gonna be a baby?”

There. Right there, adorning Arthur’s beautiful features, is the pull of a smile. It chokes you up instantly, so far deep in nightmares of arguments and unhappiness that you hadn’t even considered the good. You start to nod, a little bit of your fringe falling in your face.

“Yeah… There’s gonna be a baby. Our baby…”

“Our baby…” He repeats, his arm raising to brush the hair away from your eyes in such a natural manner it feels like it’s just his instinct to care for you. It is his instinct to care for you, Arthur has shown you that in every minute of every day of your marriage, and suddenly you’re not sure why you’ve been so scared.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He still seems in disbelief, but that’s normal. It’s taken you a few days to come to terms with it, and even then the fingernail marks in your palms are still red raw.

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

It hits him. Really hits him and he all but throws himself into you, scooping you up and spinning you around as he laughs unreservedly.

“Well goddamn, I’m gonna be a Daddy!”

You laugh with him, worries and anxiety a distant memory as your feet swing around in the air. You’re probably waking the camp up, but you don’t care all that much. Right now, you’re the happiest girl in the world.

A baby. There’s gonna be a baby. Arthur’s baby.

Really, it’s the greatest gift a cowgirl could ask for.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redepmtion 2 #arthur morgan rdr #rdr2 arthur #rdr valentines change

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anxiousdreamcore · 8 months

Note

Hi would you like to draw Spider as street kid in modern au? I really like your Billy Batson art + the way you draw Spider so I think this combination would be so perfect 😅 I totally understand if not, anyway have a nice day/night!

BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU—

Ever since @naavispider responded to a prompt about street kid Spider meeting Quaritch, I was very interested in the idea so I def wanna draw that but for now, let me present you with some thing I came up with.

Street kid Spider modern AU

Imagine Miles Spider Socorro in the modern AU, escaping from the foster system bc he was treated very poorly and decided to gamble with the homeless life instead. He lives like that for maybe three-four years when Miles tracks him down. Because the boy is so good at parkour, he’s been given the street nickname of Spider, which the blonde is proud of and uses as his real name.

Spider lives in the attic of an abandoned mall that is so overgrown with unkept plants and trees that it’s more of a jungle. He takes care of many cats who made themselves at home there and as a result of being around them 24/7 develops some of their mannerisms, like head movements when curious, crouching and hissing when agitated. He doesn’t get much proper human contact until meeting the Sullies.

The Sully kids have moved in not long ago and crave adventure. The overgrown mall looks like a magical forest to them and in it they find Spider, a creature of the woods with his long, curly, matted hair, ripped and stitched together over a thousand times clothes, trinkets worn on his neck like necklaces, and the many cats surrounding him. Spider smells like soil and cat food and is initially scared of the four children (four bc you’d never catch Neteyam exploring abandoned buildings, he’s a good boy), ready to fight them like he fought every other street-dweller ever since ending up outside of care. Out here, the kids mostly end up either as addicts or in gangs, so Spider had no friends his age…until that fateful day.

From that point on, Spider becomes their secret friend and the siblings visit him every day. They love his bravery and sass, underneath which lies a compassionate heart of gold. They not only buy him necessities, but even help him shoplift on some days, not only for himself but for the street animals as well, plus old homeless people who huddle around makeshift fires on cold nights. They become sort of robins in their own right, and Jake, together with Neytiri, although suspect something, don’t know about the secret bestie their kids made.

Neteyam suspect much more and slowly puts the puzzle together. He is not thrilled.

All is well, life is looking up…until Kiri tells Spider one day, as they hang out in the roof, that she heard in the news of a certain “Miles Quaritch” getting out of prison, advising that the boy stays safe.

She stills when she sees the sheer look of horror on his face.

“Spider..?..”

“I…”

“…You know him?”

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“I-I won’t, I won’t.”

“…

I’m, like…his son.”

From that point on the drama quickly ramps up because Spider’s social cervices agent Norm has also tracked the kid down to this city, operating on rumours and rare camera footage of the boy. It doesn’t make the situation easier that Norm is also friends with Jake and keeps venting to him about how miserable and hurt Spider must be while the Sully kids are right there knowing where he hides.

And that’s pretty much the gist of this AU. For Spider, it’s a tense situation where he has to be sneakier than ever bc cps are close on his track and his father is even closer and he wants his son back. On both fronts, Socorro is threatened with a total loss of freedom and autonomy. The kids have to be sneaky too when they visit him…but no one can be sneaky enough to pass under Quaritch’s nose.

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annabethy · 6 months

Note

"i won't tell a soul"

There are a lot of things Annabeth had never imagined about her life.

For starters, she’d never imagined herself making it this far. Twenty years isn’t all that much in the grand scheme of things, but it feels a lifetime away from when she was seven years old, wondering if it would ever get better. Somehow, she’s far from the little girl running from monsters with her tiny fingers wrapped around a hammer. It’s entirely different having the warmth of a home and people to come home to.

She’d also never imagined herself here, lying in the arms of someone who’d walk through hell with a smile if it meant keeping her safe.

It’s a nice change, she thinks, watching Percy’s rhythmic breathing. It’s dark in the living room, the only light sprinkling in through the icy windows, but it’s just enough for her to make out the shape of him, to analyze the rise and fall of his chest every few seconds and just feel relief that he, too, had made it this far. Annabeth had spent far too many years terrified that each breath she watched him take would be his last.

Like the snow to the ground, those worries fade away.

Annabeth would drift to sleep, but she finds that she doesn’t want to quite yet, so she watches him some more. They hadn’t intended to fall asleep on his mother’s living room couch, but it turns out watching movies all night is easier said than done when you’re two demigods battling something far more exhausting than monsters: college. She knew he was exhausted that day anyway, and he probably would’ve gone to bed earlier to begin with if it weren’t for her begging for a movie night.

He’s not usually the first to sleep, but she’s not complaining. She’s warm in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest, and she can’t really move without risking waking him up, but there are worse places to be and worse battles to fight. She should know. She’d been running from them longer than she can remember. Until now, anyway. Annabeth hopes it can always be like this, snowy nights in his mom’s apartment. She knows it won’t always be, but maybe that’s okay too. They get to really live now, without fear that each kiss is their last. They get the chance to grow up and have these nights in their own apartment. She imagines there will be marriage, and eventually, a few kids. Sons and daughters.

The thought is bittersweet. As much as she wants that, she doesn’t want to give this up.

For a while longer, she doesn’t have to.

She shifts in closer to Percy, digging her nose into the soft fabric of his sweater, and she just exists. She exists until the world around her fades, until the arms around her back tighten and she feels safer than she ever has. Until she thinks she might drift to sleep, if it weren’t for the warm lips pressing to the curve of her ear, and the sleepy voice that asks, “Are you okay?”

Annabeth smiles softly and lifts her face to catch the eyes that stare back at her. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

Percy stretches languidly, but he keeps her gathered close. “Only a little.”

She giggles softly at the nonsensical answer, resuming her place against his chest when he’s done shifting around. It’s the little things she notices, like his index finger tracing shapes into her back beneath her gray crewneck stolen from his closet, light as the feeling flowing through her. It’s the big things she notices too, like the way he moves his hand away from that spot to lift her chin away from his chest so he can give her a proper kiss or two, and one on the nose for good measure.

“We can head to my room,” he suggests quietly, voice still laced with sleep. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” she assures. “Go back to sleep.”

“And miss out on your pretty face?”

“You had no qualms five minutes ago.”

“And I feel awful about it, really.” Percy gives her another sweet kiss. She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “Have you been up long?”

“A bit,” she answers vaguely.

“And you didn’t wake me up? Was I not invited?”

“Your lack of sleep is making you delirious,” she tells him. “Go back to sleep, Percy.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Stare at your pretty face,” she mocks.

Percy gasps, and though she can’t see him, she imagines him shooting her an insulted look when he pinches her side.

“It was a compliment!”

“It was not and you know it.” His hand rubs over the spot he’d pinch in apology, not that it had really hurt in the first place. “Seriously, let’s go to bed. I feel bad keeping you up.”

“You’re not keeping me up,�� she promises. “I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking?” She can hear the grin in his voice. “What about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Well, now you’ve got me on the edge of my seat. I won’t be able to sleep until you tell me.”

“You make a good point,” Annabeth kisses his jaw. “But no.”

“You prick.”

“You love me.”

“I really do,” he laughs. “A shame. I could have anyone I want if I so much as look at them–”

“Sure you can, buddy.”

“But I don’t because you love me too.”

“Who said that?”

“Do you not?”

“I don’t not, but I also didn’t say that,” she points out, snickering. “You’re making assumptions here.”

“Okay, aside from the million times you’ve said it before, yeah, I made some assumptions there.” Percy grabs her face and brings her close. Now, she can see the playful twinkle in his eye, and she can feel the breath that hits her lips with each shallow inhale. “But you do, right?”

Annabeth just laughs in his face. “I have a secret.”

And Percy seems to know where this is going. He squeezes her cheeks twice before letting go. “Please tell me your secret. I’ll die without knowing this secret of which I have no idea what it could possibly be.”

“It’s really embarrassing. You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“I will not promise that. Now, tell me.”

“It could destroy my life, Percy. Promise me.”

Percy’s laughing now, and she is too. Their voices are hushed because his mom and sister are a few doors down, and the last thing she’d want to do is risk waking them up. She’d feel guilty if they did, but it would also disturb this carefully balanced peace that is far and few between on nights like these.

His nose nudges hers. “I promise.”

“I love you too.”

It would’ve always come to this. They’ve made it this far. They’ve made it past the worst.

“You can trust me,” he says, pulling her closer. “I won’t tell a soul.”

#this is from august 5 2022 #MY BAD #my writing #I honest to god forgot how to write

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pink-sparkly-witch · 7 months

Text

The One That Got Away - Chapter Ten

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, angst, heart-to-heart, language.

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Y/N and Dean danced delicately around the things they really should be discussing. They talked about their careers, the town gossip, and what they’d been up to for the past twelve years. She wiped down Dean’s kitchen, ignoring his protests, and now that the surfaces gleamed, Y/N felt the tension in the room rise. She couldn’t take much more of dodging the elephant in the room, it was driving her crazy, and she could feel her hackles rise the longer they stayed awkwardly quiet with each other.

It had never been like this between them before. Not even in the hospital had it been so electrically charged, and it terrified Y/N. She grabbed plates, cutlery, and pie and headed back to the dining table, where Dean quickly sliced and served them a piece of the sweet pastry treat.

“So, uh, Bobby told me about your dad. I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” Dean spoke, breaking through the thickening tension. And there it was, the first elephant in the room. Y/N shrugged with indifference before she carefully responded.

“It is what it is. That man must’ve gone through five bottles of Jack a week, maybe more, for the past twenty years. It was bound to happen,” she finished and took a mouthful of pie.

“Have you seen him yet?” Dean asked, and she shook her head. “You gonna?” he prodded gently. Y/N shrugged again as she chewed the pie, responding after she swallowed.

“I know I should, I’ll probably regret it if I don’t, but there’s nothing that can be gained by me going there. According to Bobby, he doesn’t remember anything, so an apology or an explanation for what he did isn’t coming, so why bother? It’s not like I’ll get any closure from it,” Y/N shoved another piece of the pie in her mouth, and Dean studied her expression a little more before speaking again.

“So, it’s unlikely he remembers what he did to you?” Dean clarified, and she nodded. “But you won’t know for sure if you don’t see him. It might give you some peace or closure seeing him again even if he doesn’t remember-”

“I remember, Dean,” Y/N said a little louder than she intended. “I remember everything that happened when I was a kid, and anything that happens or is said or not said in that room will stay with me for the rest of my life, and he’ll get to remain blissfully ignorant of all of it. How’s that for closure?” she huffed.

“I just need a little more time to figure out what will be easier for me to live with. Will I be able to live with things the way they are now and happily never see him again? Can I face him knowing he’ll never apologise? Not even remember what he did?”

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you,” Dean said as he took her hand.

“Can you tell Bobby that?” Y/N scoffed a sad laugh. “He won’t get off my case. ‘Speak to your father,’ ‘speak to Dean,’ like it’s not hard enough coming back here after being away for so long and knowing I hurt people. He just expects everything to be fine, and I’ll slip back into the folds, be accepted, and fit in like the past decade never happened. It’s daunting, and I don’t know if I made the right choice coming back here, and I’m scared…”

“Okay, alright, stop and breathe,” Dean said as he gripped her shoulders. “First off, it’s your decision what you do about your father, alright? You hit the nail on the head, Princess. You, and only you, know what’s best for you, so you need to tell Bobby to back off and leave you be,” he smiled softly as she laughed, glad he could ease her worries just a little.

“Second, never doubt that you don’t fit in here. You do. It’s your home. The family you have here will always be your family. Blood or not. That won’t ever change. Were people hurt that you left? Yes, absolutely. But were any of them as hurt as you? No. Not even close. They were hurt because they didn’t know the extent of what was happening and felt like they’d failed you in every way.”

“I never told anyone, Dean. Only you,” she frowned, a slight look of accusation crossing her features.

“And I never told anyone, I swear to you. But, Princess, it was no secret your father was an alcoholic. It didn’t go unnoticed that there was some level of neglect. That you had to look after the both of you much younger than any kid should have to,” Dean said as he placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin and pushed gently to force her to meet his gaze.

“The bruises, cuts, broken bones,” Dean continued, “were mostly hidden, but more than once, mom asked about a black eye or the fingerprint bruises on your arms. The black eyes I explained away as your clumsiness,” he smiled softly at her sad laugh. “The bruises as you were probably putting your dad to bed,” Dean swiped the tears from her cheek that had fallen.

“And then, Bobby and Mom got letters telling them everything, and the guilt and hurt they had because they didn’t help you-”

“When I started school,” Y/N interrupted, “my father sat me down and said that if I told anyone about the drinking and the hitting, he’d be taken away, and I’d never see him again. And because I didn’t have a mother, I’d be taken far away from Uncle Bobby and you guys and be put in a foster home. I’d never see anyone I loved ever again. It’s why I didn’t tell anyone. Except you. And why I was so insistent that you didn’t tell anyone. That’s on me, not them.”

“It’s not on you, Y/N. Not telling anyone was the decision of a frightened little girl stuck between protecting herself and protecting her father. She did what she thought was right and tried to protect both of them. All she had to do was hold on and keep pretending ‘til she was old enough to get the hell outta Dodge. Well, Lawrence, technically, but you get what I mean!” Dean smiled at the soft chuckle she gave him.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, or it’s too soon, tell me, and it’s dropped,” Dean said and licked his lips. “Mom wants to reach out to you. She misses you. I do, too,” he finished as he gently took her hands again.

“I’ll call her, and maybe we can arrange something when I come off night shift rotation next week,” Y/N said quietly. “I miss her too,” she smiled sadly. “But I miss you the most, and that scares me.”

Dean saw the water pool in her eyes and frowned. He’d thought she might be overly guarded tonight, having not seen each other in so long, and that it’d take longer for her to put her armour down. She did have shields up, he could see them, but his Y/N, his girl, was cautiously peeking over them, just waiting to bring them down completely.

“What scares you, Princess? Me?” he asked, following her lead and lowering his guard slightly.

“God, not you! Never you, Dean. I’m scared of this. Us. You invited me here, said we needed to talk, and yeah, we’re talking, but not really about what we need to talk about. There’s this…” Y/N trailed off, hands gesturing wildly, trying to find the right words. “Vibe… this tension that is slapping me in the face, and quite honestly, I can’t figure out if you wanna kiss me or yell at me. And that scares me because there was a time when I could read you, cut through all the bullshit and get straight to the point.

“And yeah,” she continued before he could respond. “That’s my fault. Because I left, and it’s been a long time, and we’ve probably grown apart. Changed beyond the other’s recognition,” she finished and ran her hands down her face in frustration.

Dean wasn’t sure what she was trying to say and couldn’t predict where this would go. Yes, they had both changed, but he wasn’t sure he’d changed as much as she had. He was proud of who she’d become. Everything from how she carried herself to how she spoke with more confidence than he’d ever heard from her astounded him. He couldn’t wait to get to know her all over again. The spark of physical attraction was still there for him. She was as beautiful as she’d always been. More beautiful. He also couldn’t deny that he thought her confidence was quite the turn on.

“Alright,” Dean said. “Let’s get the ball rolling. I read your letter. Mom gave it to me the day you met Jess. You thanked me for not asking you to stay?” he questioned.

“Yes. You probably saved both our lives that night,” Y/N smiled sadly.

“Princess…” Dean whispered, and she shook her head, cutting him off.

“You might not realise this, but I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. My father would’ve gone too far again, and you’d have killed him. And because you’re a good man, you’d have turned yourself in,” she said as she touched his cheek, caressing his jaw with her thumb.

Dean’s lips tightened, and he nodded once, confirming that was precisely what he’d have done.

“So, tell me, Dean,” Y/N said. “What are we doing here? What do you really want?”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @kazsrm67 @waters-2567 @spnbaby-67

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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reneeluv154 · 4 months

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Anger

I hope you enjoy it!!!🤍🤍🤍

In this imagine you made it to the safe haven and newt helps you through your emotions while your still struggling with the loss of the others.

(More on my profile if you enjoy this one.) 🫶🏼🫶🏼

⚠️Tw: mentions of suicide⚠️

I stared at Newt, glaring at him through the flames of fire between us. We were finally in the safe haven and everyone was happy, everyone but me. I couldn’t remember the last time I truly smiled, or really felt anything for that matter. How could they be smiling and laughing?

We lost so many wonderful lives and they were just over it? I didn’t understand. Having Gally back was relieving, he was never the nicest person, to anyone, but he had grown, and it showed.

“Y/n, you good?” Minho questioned, Newt’s eyes locked with mine and I quickly looked away. “Yeah.” I sounded cold and mean, I held a little bit of anger against them, I just didn’t understand how they were okay. It was selfish, the others would have loved to be here. Yes, we carved their names on the rock but it just didn’t feel like enough. They deserved so much more.

I stood grabbing one of Gally’s drinks while walking towards the beach. I made it to the shore leaving the dancing and laughter behind. I sat down and stared out upon the endless ocean. I wished I could dig deep into my heart, take my pain, and let it drift out into the sea.

“I miss you guys, It’s not the same without you here.” I scoffed, taking a swig. “I’m so fucking angry, why not me. I wanted to die.” I said looking from the sky to the ground.

I whispered, “I still wanna die.”

“Pretty isn’t it?” I jumped hearing the all too familiar voice of a brown-eyed blonde-haired boy. He sat down beside me staring up at the starry sky.

“Yeah, gorgeous.” I agreed.

“I heard you talking.” I was drowning in embarrassment and grief.

“I just want them to know.” He nodded now it was his turn to take a swig. “They know Y/n, they're watching us every day.”

I shook my head.

“That’s supposed to make it easier?”

He shrugged, “Maybe a little, yes. I’m not saying you can’t mourn, because you can, but you’ve gotta learn to move on.” This made me angry.

“Like you? Five fucking day’s after they were gone.”

He looked at me, clenching his jaw, his eyes were angry. “I had to stay strong for you and the others, I’m bloody hurt Y/n. I’ve been hurt for a long, long time! You don’t get to tell me I was a bad person when I was just trying to keep you and the others alive!” He blew up on me, his voice louder and bolder than ever.

I couldn't look at him, the tears in my eyes rolling down my cheeks. Maybe I should kill myself, He would stay strong so the others would be okay, right? They wouldn't miss me, not like I bring anything good to the group. I would get to see the others as well. “I know that look Y/n, I can see it in your eyes, I’ve seen it in your eyes for a long time and I promise you it won’t make anything better.”

How did he know…

“I’m sure y'all would be fine.”

He shook his head. “Nope, we wouldn't.”

“I’m just so angry.” I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. I sat for a minute looking at the sky when I realized. “It’s like I’m the moon and the stars are everyone in my life.” “

“I think you’ve had a tad too much to drink Y/n.”

“No. The moon and the stars adorn each other. Without the stars, the moon is just the moon.”

“Follow me.”

He stood and began walking, I walked up and stood beside him in front of a cluster of rocks. “I want you to throw that bottle as hard as you can, letting it shatter against those rocks.”

“What?” I asked

He nodded, “Scream as loud as you want, you can even cry if you’d like. Here I’ll give you my glass too.”

I shook my head. “The others will think something is wrong.”

“They can’t hear you from here.” He handed me the glass and backed up sitting on a log behind him.

“Go on. Let it out.”

Taking a moment I took the glass throwing it as hard as I could at the biggest rock there was, it shattered.

A tear ran down my cheek as I grabbed the other glass watching it fly through the air and shatter just as the other one did.

It felt too good tears now pouring down my face, I searched for anything to throw picking up smaller rocks and shells.

“Aghhhhhhh!!!!” I screamed as loud as I could feeling a sharp pain through my head, but I couldn’t stop,

“They should be here!!!”

“I loved them!!!”

“I should have hugged you when I had the chance!!!” I sobbed, still throwing whatever I could find before I ran out of breath and fell to my knees. “It should have been me!” I felt a gentle hand on my back, another on my cheek pulling me into himself.

“Shhh, that's not true love.”

I cried for a long time, even after Newt carried me back to my hut and tucked me in before he sat down in a chair beside my bed to keep an eye on me and calm me down.” I eventually fell asleep having a strong headache but also a sense of emotional relief.

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

Percy Jackson

Stars on the Water by liketolaugh

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

On Heists and Home Economics by chellethewriter

Over the last few days, Annabeth has spent a great deal of time imagining what was stolen, what could cause Percy and the Stolls so much antagonism and strife. She imagined valuables and prized possessions and even—thanks to Malcolm—something as ridiculous as an engagement ring.

But never, not once, had she considered the possibility of a baby doll.

Because who in Hades would?

“That wasn’t just some children’s toy!”

And Annabeth can feel it. She can feel Percy's rage bursting forth with his words—a pressure that whips through the pavilion like the briny wind of a sea storm. It's something primal, she thinks. Something desperate. So when Percy rises to his feet, climbing and cresting like a tidal wave, Annabeth doesn't blame the Stolls for shrinking toward the floor. If she didn't know Percy so well, she would do the same.

“That doll,” Percy grits out, “is worth fifty percent of my Home Economics grade!"

Of Storms and Bloodlines by inkncoffee

When people thought of Poseidon they thought of the sea; Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, Commander of the Waves, the Stormbringer. Upon consideration they would add Earthshaker, for catastrophic events such as earthquakes were hard to forget. Few remembered, however, that Poseidon was also Lord of the Horses. Stormbringer and Earthshaker tended to squeeze that one out.

Percy had been able to talk to horses for as long as he could remember. He liked to think he understood them. Although he's not entirely sure why the new stallion thinks he's its foal.

Poseidon is not jealous that Percy thinks a horse makes a better father figure than himself. At all.

Not By Design by inkncoffee

Being a stepfather was hard enough even when your new stepson wasn't the greatest demigod of his time.

Paul's journey from that guy dating Sally to being Percy's father.

Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun!

Broody Feelings by writerkat

Quite abruptly, Balam's behavior takes a sudden turn for the aggressive. Though some know why, no one knows how.

It may be wind up up to Iruma to find that out. As well as how to get Balam back to being the gentle giant he's always been.

A Spoonful of Sugar by silvershadowkit.

The stress of living in the Netherworld finally causes Iruma to succumb to the worse of human conditions: the common cold. How do his friends and family react in this moment of crisis?

He's Doing Just Fine by ScatteredNova (Timewormbloom)

Asmodeus and Clara discover the truth behind Iruma's parents and decide that it's their responsibility to make up for the love and affection he missed out on growing up. But they somehow miss the fact that Iruma is doing just fine without his previous family, and he's enjoying his new one very much.

Just a Bit Warmer by Creativitee

Iruma gets himself, quite literally, stuck in a bad situation. He calls on his familiar somewhat accidentally for a little bit of help.

Kalego is more than displeased at the situation to say the least, until he realizes it may be just a bit more dire than first glance shows.

SVSSS

simmering heat by tagteamme

Shen Qingqiu gets hit by a curse that is a little different than the hedonistic traps he and his husband normally fall victim to. In fact, it’s the opposite— in order to make it out of this curse alive, Shen Qingqiu must abstain from touching Luo Binghe.

This should be nothing more than a much-needed holiday for his old hips and waist, right?

#is anyone surprised that this fic is half pyo and half iruma #because i'm not #having 2 fandoms is fun but my mfl on ao3 has gotten so long aaa #my posts #weekly fic round up #fic recs #svsss recs #pjo recs #m!ik recs

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scribbledghost · 2 months

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hello !! just returned to tumblr and the first thing i saw was that your requests are open. so i just wanted to know if you could do prompt 17? just watched melancholia a few weeks ago and listened to 'as the world caves in' so the idea of spending the end of times with a loved one is living inside my head like a little worm for now 👍like imagine simon spending his final night alongside reader in the quietness of the country, and maybe hoping for a second chance for the lot of them somewhere else ;; like imagine him realizing that, despite everything, he got to be happy and live a content life with someone he loved ;;;

or maybe prompt 37 !! just something sweet for our little meow meow (or any of the 141 boys, if you want). like maybe lighting candles and enjoying the quietness of the house together during a blackout, or maybe enjoying breakfast on a fresh, quiet morning after sleeping in !!

or just anything you want really !! i honestly really enjoy your ideas and your writing, especially since you always bring something sweet to this characters, i think <3

happy 3k followers btw !! i'm so so glad there's plenty of us that've decided to stay to enjoy your work. and i'm sure many many more will come in the future, mark my words !! so i hope you're having a good day (or night) today, stay safe <3

Note: Thank you so so much!! I'm so glad you enjoy my works, it means a lot!! 💖💖 I decided to go with the first one, I hope you enjoy! 17. The apocalypse is immanent and cannot be prevented 3K Follower Prompt List

It’s… strange, Simon realizes, knowing what your exact expiration date will be. Knowing that within a month, a week, a day, you will not be alive anymore.

And neither will anyone you love.

A colossal asteroid, hundreds of kilometers in diameter, was headed for Earth. It had only been detected in the past few months, but every single containment and preventative measure had failed. Seven days ago, the world’s top minds had declared there was nothing more they could do but wait for the inevitable.

“Go home,” Price had said when the news broke. “Be with your people. No use wastin’ any more time now.”

Of course, Simon’s natural road of travel led him straight home to you.

Now, in the dark of planet Earth’s final night, he lays with you. Eyes open. Heart bleeding.

It isn’t fair, he thinks. I didn’t get enough time.

Then again, he could’ve been given another thousand years in your arms, and it wouldn’t have been enough.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you he loves you. It’s something he’s never said out loud before - he prefers to say it in other ways - but he can’t bear you both leaving this world without you hearing it from his own mouth.

He loves you.

You are everything to him.

He loves you.

His only regret is not meeting you sooner.

He loves you.

They all mean the same thing, but he’ll continue to say it until the world explodes beneath him.

“Do you think the universe will be kinder next time?” you softly ask.

He studies your face, just as he’s been doing for the past week. Trying desperately to memorize your features, as if it will make it easier for him to find you in the next life.

“Yeah.”

It has to be.

He allows himself to imagine it as he kisses you: a softer life with a gentler ending. Maybe next time will spare him the trauma, maybe he will be an easier man to love, maybe you’ll both grow old and spend your twilight years on a porch in a pair of rocking chairs like you were meant to.

Death, though it has brushed against him and bit at his throat, has always refused to fully claim him. He will not remain in the ether for long, and he knows you won’t either. He has no doubt you will both be reborn somewhere else, and he knows in the sinews and fibers of his being that he’ll find you when you both return.

Simon considers just how grateful he is for you - how grateful he is to know you, to have been able to experience your love and care despite the darkness he had to wade through to find it. Despite the pain, the fear, the anguish, he still got to see your guiding light.

He’s content with walking into the dark expanse of the unknown, as long as he gets to hold your hand as he does so.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

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plague-of-insomnia · 13 days

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Sebardagni Headcanon/AU Idea #001 - Post-Apocalyptic Sickfic AU

It’s no secret the last 7 months or so have not been great for me, and I haven’t been able to write for various reasons, since my health has been bad.

I’m hoping that the second half of 2024 will show some improvement but in the time being I’ve been trying to imagine my fave trio: Sebardagni in various sickfic scenarios

Like I had one in mind that’s not well formulated bc my brain is not working well enough for more than vague shapes of ideas, but it’s post-apocalyptic.

I don’t like that genre generally because as a chronically ill disabled person, I know how absolutely fucked I would be if society collapsed.

However, one of my fave independent novels I ever read featured this concept, and one of the characters had a chronic lung disease so not having regular access to medicine made his life much harder, and put enormous strain on his husband and family.

So I imagined a scenario in which Sebastian, Agni, and Bard have settled in a remote mountain cabin because it’s removed from some of the dangers of the cities, the air is cleaner for Sebastian to breathe a little easier, and there is plenty of food and resources.

But the problem is that they really should move on, but they can’t travel, not with Sebastian sick, and they’re running out of places to scavenge for medicine. One of them always has to stay behind with Sebastian, so only one can go out at a time.

Bard had been increasingly having to go away for days or even weeks at a stretch, going farther and farther from their home base in an attempt to find medicine for Sebastian and other supplies they can’t make or grow themselves.

It makes Sebastian guilty and anxious that one day Bard won’t come back and it’ll be his fault, and it frustrates him that he can’t help more, or that his partners have to sacrifice so much for him. More than once he’s told them to leave him behind, but they both insist they’d rather die with him than abandon him.

I imagined a particular scene where Sebastian’s health has taken a sharp downturn while Agni has been waiting for Bard to return, and it’s getting to be long enough he’s worried maybe this will be the day Bard never comes home.

But he does, all smiles. He didn’t find medicine, at least not what they’d hoped to find, but he did find a treasure trove of things that were under a collapsed shelf in an asian market a few towns over.

Matcha powder, and a lot of it.

Matcha is highly caffeinated, and it’s related to another molecule that’s often used to treat asthma and other lung conditions, because it helps open the airways. Drinking a lot of caffeine can thus help your breathing a little bit. It’s not medicine, but it definitely helps in a pinch.

I imagine Agni grows what he can for Sebastian, various herbs and plants like marijuana that can help him, and despite the world ending and the challenges of their new lives, ultimately they’re happy.

I think it could be a really lovely story, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to write it.

#black butler #黒執事 #sebardagni #sebastian michaelis #bardroy #agni #bard #kuro au inspo #poi og #post apocalyptic au #sickfic #it sounds very fluffy but ofc there would be plenty of angst and whump #i know i am addicted to human sebastian i can’t help it #my headcanons

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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oh my gods Viserys forcing Corlys and Rhaenys youngest daughter to marry Aegon because the Velaryons are obviously pissed that Rhaenyra keeps having bastards but they won’t say anything. and whole funeral thing kind of added fuel to the fire. so Viserys thinks having the reader marry Aegon will smooth things over but it really just complicates everything.

of course the reader is her mother’s child. so there’s no way in hell that Aegon goes down the path that he does. homegirl whips him up into shape. and he kind of becomes a fun mix of Oberyn Martell and Tyrion Lannister where he’s always drinking and he always horny for his wife but he’s lowkey deadly. because she absolutely was not gonna be embarrassed by this boy.

and it brings up so many mixed feelings for Corlys because he really wants his bloodline on the throne but Rhaenyra’s boys don’t have his blood despite having his name. and there’s also a small part of him that wonders if Rhaenyra and Daemon really killed Laenor like the rumours say. what if Daemon comes after the boys to install his own sons? so he’s beginning to lean towards the Aegon and the other greens in the court. especially after seeing them welcome the reader with open arms because she was the only one who can reign Aegon in so they fucking love her and know she’ll make sure Aegon is a good king. but Rhaenys is stressing because it leaves the Blues stuck in the middle of the battlefield cause they’re daughter will be crowned queen and their grandson will be made the Prince of Dragonstone soon. and that’s her only living child. what if Daemon comes after the reader and her children? they’d lose everything if the reader died.

Okay but I can’t help but imagine yan!poly!Aegon and Helaena for the Reader in this situation. Like, I can see Viserys realizing after the whole Vaemond outburst that maybe he should try to work something out more with the Velaryons, especially since it looks like even they are torn amongst themselves on whose side to be on. So, why not make it easier for them, at least that’s what Viserys thinks his actions will be achieving. Only it does the complete opposite and makes things much worse, especially for Rhaenyra.

I feel like this betrothal would happen behind Rhaenys’ back because of course she wouldn’t be so willing to marry off her youngest and remaining child, especially not to the Greens. And especially not to Aegon. She doesn’t care that their child will be Queen of the seven kingdoms or birth the future princes and princesses, Rhaenys wants to keep her remaining child as close as possible. She’s already lost two of her children and one of them may have been murdered by his own wife so she surely wouldn’t trust Aegon or the Greens to do something similar to the Reader.

Corlys is apprehensive as well but this could also be a monumental opportunity for not only the Reader but also all of House Velaryon as a whole. He doesn’t want to use his remaining child as a playing piece either especially after losing Laenor and Laena but this may be just what they need. He knows his child well enough and knows they’ll be able to hold their own, especially against Aegon. Corlys isn’t too worried about how Aegon will be with the Reader but he is worried about the underlying threats of others, such as Otto, Alicent, Rhaenyra and Daemon. He would have to mull it over but would inevitably accept the betrothal regarding his child and Aegon. After all, he thinks this would be very beneficial for the Reader in the long run. But, Corlys also knows that this will inevitably cause a rift between him and Rhaenys when he tells her. And Rhaenys would take this as a betrayal on her husband’s part, never forgetting that he put their last remaining child up freely for the Greens to have.

Going off Aegon already having married Helaena and now being betrothed to the Reader too, he would just see it as yet another thing forced upon him. He hadn’t even wanted to marry Helaena in the first place now he has to marry yet again, being stuck with two wives. The only thing that may get him to think of it differently is someone referring to the situation as it being like Aegon the Conquer, Rhaenys and Visenya all over again. Aegon would take that as people seeing him as Aegon the Conqueror and his ego would only grow because of it. But the Reader will be their to knock him down a few pegs or more.

I like to imagine the Reader being pretty free spirited and strong willed. The first time they meet Aegon, whether before or after the whole betrothal thing, he was most likely drunk and either said something vulgar to them or about someone else and they heard it resulting in them verbally handing his ass to him. The next day Aemond, Jace, Luke and others are laughing about the situation which causes Aegon to storm off and seek out the Reader to ‘punish’ them. Only when he finds the Reader to do just that, they physically kick his ass and fuck his whole shit up. After that he sees them in a completely different light. He’s kind of scared of them and ashamed that he got his ass beat but it also totally turned him on cause of course it would. He never really had anyone do something him like that, let alone a woman. He usually always got what he wanted but that was the first time someone really put him in his place and it got him feeling some type of way. Of course he wouldn’t allow anyone else to ever do that to him and get away with it but he’d make an exception for his darling. After that, Aegon wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off the Reader, he would try to get as close to them as possible justifying it with getting to know each other better because of the betrothal. He’d always find his way to their side and if he couldn’t be there then he would take to keeping them in his line of sight. Inwardly panicking a little when he would lose sight of them, automatically fearing that someone had stolen them away from him.

Given that the Reader is a free spirit I imagine that they would always be riding their dragon and going on adventures, which would only cause Aegon even more anxiety. Sure, it’s one thing to be able to go on his own dragon and fly after the Reader but it’s another thing after they’ve gotten married and they insist on him staying behind to manage his royal duties and look after everything like a good king should do. There would be an underlying fear of the Reader leaving and never returning, whether due to them perishing on their adventure or because they decided to start anew and someone else ended up capturing their heart. Aegon would compromise that the Reader either wait until he has the free time and could come with/be able to follow them on their impromptu adventures or stop their adventures altogether if they wanted him to continue keeping up with being a ‘good king’. He would threat to burn all the Seven Kingdoms to the ground if they up and left him again like that, even if they were to always come back. If they ever did leave on their dragon again after he tried compromising, especially doing so just to spite him, Aegon would have no problem hunting them down himself and forcing them back home and once they were back home, he would go as far as to kill their dragon so they wouldn’t be able to leave him again. He may also take to having them locked in their shared room or they would at the very least be heavily monitored. Aegon would also keep the Reader pregnant as often as he could to ensure they would stay in one place and prevent them from trying to flee.

I imagine that Helaena would really be the closest person to the Reader, maybe besides Rhaenyra depending on whether the Reader was still on her side after the rumors about her having Laenor killed. I don’t think the Reader or Helaena would have a hard time getting along and if they both have to be married to Aegon then that would only drive them closer to each other. Aegon may even grow jealous of how much closer his darling his with Helaena then compared to him. He would childishly accuse the Reader of loving Helaena more than him whenever he got drunk, which would be often. And both the Reader and Helaena would roll their eyes and ignore him or try very half assed to soothe his hurt feelings. These little jealous bouts happen more often then not so his darling and Helaena are more than use to them. The few times all three of them have shared the bed together there have been times Aegon will wake the Reader and Helaena out of their sleep accusing them of cuddling with each other more than with him. The three of them have been forced to try and find a sleeping arrangement that would work where Aegon would feel included but to no avail, he’d always find a problem. So eventually he just kicked Helaena out to her own room. But then one night Aegon woke up all alone in the bed while the Reader had slipped away to keep Helaena company in the night. Which led to Aegon barging in and throwing a huge hissy fit. He would complain about it to his mother and his brothers but Aemond honestly couldn’t careless and didn’t want to hear any of it due to his own envy. But eventually Aegon would come around to moving Helaena back into his and the Reader’s shared room. He liked it better when it was him and the Reader but they insist on it since Helaena is a part of the marriage as well. Not to mention it doesn’t feel right when she’s gone. If it bothers his darling so much than he can tolerate it, he supposed.

When Aegon hits his limit with the Reader up and leaving on their own accord and has them kept in their room, Helaena would be their sole company for the most part, besides Aegon himself. (Aemond and Daeron would visit themselves if only Aegon hadn’t banned them from interacting with his darling.) Helaena doesn’t agree with Aegon, knowing that no matter how many times the Reader left or how long they were gone they would always come back to the two of them. But she could also see where he was coming from. She did often worry herself whether their darling would just abandon them or meet their fate on one of their adventures. This way they can ensure their darling is safe and with them always. Not to mention it results in Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor getting to have more siblings due to Aegon using that as a way to keep the Reader occupied and to prevent them trying to run away.

Earlier on when the Reader was in the beginnings of shaping Aegon to be a rightful king, there’s a good chance that they could get him to be on good/okay-ish terms with Rhaenyra. Especially if the Reader was still very much Team Black. It didn’t matter whether they actually had any care for Rhaenyra but given that she does have the Reader’s nieces and ‘nephews’ with her I could see the Reader trying to keep peace so as to not cause any harm or trouble for Baela, Rhaena, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. And if the Reader themself were close to Rhaenyra then I’m sure they wouldn’t want anything to put a damper into that either. It would really be Alicent, Otto, Larys, Aemond and Aegon himself who would ruin the peace. Leading to Corlys and Rhaenys having to choose a side.

Also, there’s a very good chance that Rhaenys moves to King’s Landing permanently once the Reader is married off to Aegon. Rhaenys wouldn’t want to leave her child all alone with the Greens and would certainly want to be there for when her grandchildren are born, not to mention she’s still very pissed with Corlys for even goimng through with this whole thing and is still very much feeling betrayed over it. She would also want to make it very clear to her child that they have support by having her there with them. Although, Aegon wouldn’t like it too much with Rhaenys giving and always being with the Reader and also given that she watches him like a hawk whenber he’s near his darling but his mother would make him bite his tongue to keep Rhaenys and the Velaryons on their side. And if it did mean a lot to the Reader to have their mother with them then he could deal with it, for now.

#anxious answers #yandere aegon ii targaryen #yandere rhaenys targaryen #yandere corlys velaryon #yandere helaena targaryen #yandere house of the dragon #yandere game of thrones #yandere house of the dragon concept #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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fizzyxcustard · 1 year

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Anything Is Possible.

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, brief smut

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine you and Guy are in love but you are to be married to someone else. It feels like everything is keeping you apart."

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Requested by anon. This has the potential to make it into a long fic, so if you're interested in further parts then let me know.

“I love you,” Guy told you as you lay on your side, propped on your arm, looking down at him. “I’ll make a way for us to be together, I promise.” He reached forward and cupped your cheek with his hand. “I will make you my wife one day.”

You looked down at the mattress of the bed and pulled away from him. Tears came forth and a ball of tight breath caught in your chest, causing pain. “It won’t happen, Guy. We both know that.”

“Your father doesn’t hold that much sway over you!” Guy snapped.

“No, but my husband-to-be does. He’s already threatened my father that he’d hurt mother if I try to run or if he pulls out of the deal. I can’t risk my mother.”

You got up from the bed and began to re-dress. As you did, your hand ghosted your stomach and you thought of the children that would never have Guy as their father. Even if Guy sired any of your children, they would never carry the Gisborne name and know the truth of their lineage.

It was dark outside and you knew that if you stayed any longer, then your father would ask questions. He was already suspicious of your relationship with Guy and had made his distain towards the very idea of it extremely clear. Your marriage would go ahead, whether you liked it or not. You would marry Sir Edmund, a wealthy and powerful man who had held sway over your father for many years and was also an advisor to the Sheriff.

Guy stood behind you, silent and still. Everything he wanted was standing here, in the form of you. A wife, the mother of his children, a lover, a friend. If only he could take your hand, be legally bound to you in the eyes of the law of Nottingham, then he could give you the world. He placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned in, kissing the side of your head. “You’re all I want,” he whispered, his baritone voice cracking in the pain that was so raw in his chest. “Why will God not grant us this one wish?”

“The world, and everything in it, is cruel,” you wept. Then you turned slowly to face the man you loved so dearly.

Guy dipped his head towards you, being taller, and pressed his brow to yours. His hand curled around your cheek. “I will make this right. I will make this right,” he growled between gritted teeth.

“You can’t make it right, my love,” you said. “Nothing will ever be right. And I must go.”

“Tomorrow?” Guy asked, hope in his tone and in his silver blue eyes.

Realisation slammed into your gut and you closed your eyes for a second, then focused on Guy. “We need to stop this. We can’t be together, and by us keep meeting, it won’t make things any easier; it’ll make them worse.”

Guy stepped up to you. “Don’t you think things are already bad enough?” he hissed. “Spending what time I can with you gives me something to live for. When we’re apart, I’m a ghost. Fight with me.”

“I can’t…”

He grabbed your hands and pulled them to his lips. “Of anyone I know who can stand firm to their wants and dreams, it’s you. Stand with me, and if anyone takes us down, they take us down together.”

“But my mother…”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe. We do this together.”

Your dam broke open completely and you rushed towards him, sealing the deal with a hard kiss. The two of you sank into each other and within a minute, Guy was over you and inside you again. Both of you clung to each other and rode your passion to high waves, until you both hit that crescendo. You shook beneath Guy and cried out, unable to hold back your vocalisation of such pleasure. The flickers of electricity still racked through you and down your legs as Guy came, spilling into you, and then fell down on the bed beside you.

You looked across at Guy and took his hand, holding it tight. “We do this together,” you said.

***

Guy escorted you back to your home, but remained at the end of the row, a hood over his head. The two of you kissed beneath the stars. “I will see this made right and Edmund gone. No one will make you their bride but me,” he told you.

“Is that an official proposal?” you asked, giggling.

“And what is your official answer?” Guy replied with a smirk.

“Always. I’m yours, Gisborne. I thought you already knew that.”

The two of you kissed again, and then reluctantly parted.

Guy remained in the shadow, hooded and cloaked, watching as you disappeared into the warmth of your home. Thoughts began to swirl around his head, plots and schemes. It would be any way to make sure that he could take you as his. The love he felt for you was relentless in its pursuit to be bound to you in all ways. Anything was possible to make it happen. Nothing would be too much. You were worth the risk. You were worth the fight and worth the blood of a hundred men.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @guardianofrivendell @luna-xial @meganlpie @eunoiaastralwings @asgardianhobbit98 @msjava1972 @rachel1959 @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @mrsdurin @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady

Guy of Gisborne tag list: @puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig @whoooooisthis

#Guy of Gisborne #Robin Hood #Guy of Gisborne x You #Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader #Guy of Gisborne x Reader

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bluebird722 · 2 months

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Giving a Chance

Summary: He thought that his feelings would go away after the three years. He worries that she will not give him that chance. An imagining of the final episode.

Pairing: Jeankasa, implied Aruani

Rating: K

AN: So the inspiration for this story was born right after I began scrolling through AOT posts on Instagram (since I started following Jean's, Mikasa's, and Pieck's English VAs' accounts) and saw how downright nasty people can be to each other in the fandom! Anyone who even mentions Jeankasa faces an enormous wave of protests from Eremika shippers, people attack each other for suggesting that she deserves to move on and be happy even without him, and commentors fight over the whole "virginity/flowers" symbolism. It got to a point where (aside from not wanting to look at even AOT fanart anymore) I thought if Yams intended for Jeankasa to be endgame, why not illustrate how it could have evolved? How could a character continue to love the one who saved her life and still develop a loving relationship that would give her joy? I hope you enjoy reading of it as I had dreaming of it and putting pencil to paper.

Jean eagerly combed back his hair and tried to conceal his excitement that, after three long years and the most trying years of his life, he was getting closer to the dream life about which he had been dreaming for years. Any time that something was not going as intended or he missed home, he thought about what he still needed to do: get his dream apartment, find the right woman, save up for the best liquors, have a baby or two, and contemplate that he was good enough of a person to deserve those fortunes.

For whom am I trying to look good for? he thought to himself, reflecting on Pieck’s question. Not just the ladies who will read history books one day–but good looks and good vibes go hand in hand, he thought with a smirk. All they needed to do was meet with the Queen and other diplomats, and then a visit to the grave, and then…whatever else he needed to do before his dream life–much better than if he had joined the Military Police as intended years ago–could finally begin.

Then they arrived back to Paradis, wrapped up their meeting a little before twilight, and made the trip to the grave, where Mikasa was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, and Jean felt like the atmosphere had crashed around him.

As Mikasa embraced Armin, who practically lifted her off her feet in their hug, he noticed how much she had changed, from her hair length to the style of her clothes now that she had given up the way of the warrior. He had rarely seen her in anything both so casual, so feminine, and so civilian, so the combination of pink and blue gave her a new aura of beauty. She even grew out her hair, the long hair that he remembered adoring when he first met her.

She’s still so beautiful, Jean thought to himself. However, that was not the moment to think about that. Now was the time to mourn their late friend, who died for freedom.

Jean managed to concentrate on the burden and peace that Eren had left for his beloved friends to save the destroyed world and make it better, but somehow it was easier imagined than experienced. It’s all right, Jean, he thought. Soon Paradis will be at peace. Maybe one day we can imprison or reprogram the Yeagerists, and my family won’t have to live under the Queen’s protection anymore, and then I can focus on having the perfect house and family…

Then he looked up at Mikasa, who was comforting a weeping Armin, and felt a sudden heavy pressure in his chest. All those feelings that he remembered having since they first met and stifled every time he saw how she had feelings for Eren, and feelings that he continued to suppress until they didn’t give him a dull ache in his heart, came back.

Jean gazed at her out of the corner of his eye as they waited to lay down flowers. She had already set down four–the number meaning that nothing would separate the two of them. Even after everything that Eren had put her through, risked for their loved ones, and inflicted upon the outside world, she still felt the same about him.

For three years, he thought that he had gotten over Mikasa even at the mention of her name. Then just the sound of her voice and the change in appearance unlocked what he thought was long gone.

***

The ambassadors were to stay in an undisclosed house until the Queen was certain of their outside safety. Connie, Armin, Reiner, and Jean shared one half–two men in each room–while Pieck and Annie had their own, with a kitchen between for heating tea and a bathroom for each group. After visiting Eren’s grave and a quiet dinner with the Queen, the ambassadors went to their undisclosed house while Mikasa returned to her own that the Queen set up for her and in which she was safe after returning home from Marley. Mikasa, however, was not ready to return yet. She visited with the ambassadors, caught up with them over tea, and informed them of how much worse the Yeagerists had grown. Some Paradi natives were willingly moving out of the island in hopes of finding a better life in a foreign land. This unsettled Reiner and Pieck, who planned to move back to Marley, while Annie was uncertain about her future.

“As long as we’re together,” said Connie, “do you think…we could survive this?”

Only Armin was fully convinced, but Mikasa expressed hope that it was possible.

***

Groaning, Jean kicked away the blanket and sighed into his pillow. Sleep could not come to him for two hours. It was black outside, and his body ached with fatigue.

Careful not to wake up Reiner in the other bed, Jean carefully opened the door and walked barefoot into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror, with his preferred stubble length and the hair that remained polished and well groomed even after a long day.

Then he unbuttoned his shirt, turned on the faucet, splashed cold water over his face twice, and cried harder than he ever did in his life.

For goodness sake, Mikasa, he bitterly thought, which made hot tears run faster down his cheeks, why can’t I get over you?! It’s been three years, and I thought things would change! If you wouldn’t change, I could… It’s been three years, and I still think about you that way! I still dream about falling in love with you, imaging you as my life partner, the mother of my children—things that I never imagined until we were getting ready to stop Eren!

Jean weakly looked at himself in the mirror. I could be everything you want, everything you need, but I’m not him! I could give you everything I have and more, but you would still love him more than anything else in the world. If you could have your way, you would bring him back to life and have a life with him–a life…a married life that I would not want with anyone I didn’t feel as I did with you! He hung his head and sobbed. Why can’t I let you go if you don’t want me?

I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone, he thought. You deserve love and peace, to know that there are people out there who love you and only want the best for you! Even if you gave me a chance, I would never tell you to forget about him! I would still take you to visit his grave, I would never make you get rid of that scarf, and if you ever needed to miss him, I could spend hours awake at night with you for as long as you needed it…

Jean took deep, haggard breaths and let the tears fall with the droplets dripping from his face and hair. I could be everything you want and need, but I’m not him.

***

The conferences with the Queen and the island’s earliest cohort of allies continued on for about two more weeks, leaving the ambassadors exhausted every night. It was more tiring than if they fought the Rumbling all over again, but their temporary house and tightened security gave them some assurance that things could change for the better. Dinners in which Mikasa joined them sometimes helped, though it only bothered Jean even more.

Fortunately, despite the Yeagerists taking over the island, the inhabitants continued to live as before everything changed. With mainland influence came new fashions, new technologies, new music, and new food. Two days before Reiner and Pieck were to board a steamboat back to their birth country, the alliance decided to go to a street festival and see to what extent the cuisine and fashion were growing on the island.

Jean tried not to look at Mikasa, who stayed at Armin’s side the whole time, as they walked around the festival. Some vendors were selling different flavors and types of bread, the people at an ice-cream stand were handing sample cups to about five children to taste before choosing what to buy, and, to Connie’s absolute delight, a vendor was selling various kinds of fried chicken, which he had become obsessed with while staying in Marley.

“What do you think, Mikasa?” he eagerly asked the black-haired woman who blinked at the different options like she couldn’t comprehend how people could make so many ways to make chicken taste different. Fortunately, Annie said that they would have one of everything just to let Mikasa try one of everything, from mild to spicy to sweet.

Jean sat on the opposite side of Mikasa when she and the alliance sat down with all kinds of chicken. Some of it looked gross, and some smelled so appetizing. Watching her eat from the chicken bone was kind of amusing, in Jean’s opinion, as were the faces she made. Some were too sweet, some seasonings could go together, and even some of the spicier ones were rather good. Annie, naturally, selected the ones sweetened with brown sugar and caramel flakes; Connie wolfed down his meal–one of everything, like Mikasa’s–and went back for more.

“So tell me more about the foods you ate in Marley,” said Mikasa to everyone, “and what you got to eat that I didn’t have when I…when we first went there.”

Everyone had a story to tell. Armin recalled trying grilled and fried and sauteed duck, and attempting to make his own. Connie talked about something called a sloppy joe that was messy but downright delicious. Jean mentioned escargots and how people flavored the snails. Annie, Reiner, and Pieck said that one day, hopefully soon, Mikasa could go to Marley and not be limited to just vanilla ice cream; Marley sold, and continued to make, drinkable ice cream called milkshakes offered in many delicious flavors like chocolate, peanut butter, fudge, and caramel.

Mikasa nodded along and was full after eating all the chicken, but she was so glad to try each flavor. “I will definitely taste each one,” she said quietly. “I just can’t believe that we missed out on so much.”

Jean shrugged but grinned. “That’s why, when I meet the right woman and have children, I’m taking them to events like this so they can grow up experiencing everything that I would have really liked when I was a boy.”

Most of the alliance smiled, but then Jean felt the blood drain from his face. Why did he have to mention a family, children, at that moment? Sure, he knew that adults had an expectation on children to grow up and become parents, and Jean knew his parents felt the same about him, but to actually realize that a family life was something he would like even though he never really imagined one for himself until the Rumbling was starting, when he used an imaginary future as an escape from reality, struck him almost painfully.

Well, he thought to himself as they started talking about something else, just remember–it’s not worth having a family if you are not happily partnered with someone who wants to be your partner on the biggest project of your life. Then he looked at Mikasa and the scar that he remembered from his dream. It just wouldn’t be her, since she wouldn’t want to have had a family with anyone else.

***

After Reiner and Pieck’s steamboat faded from view, Mikasa accompanied the remaining alliance to the shared house, with the Queen’s security team, to spend the night and rest so they could wake up early the next morning to reunite Connie and his mother. Annie, who had decided to start over with her life in Paradis but hoped to visit her father soon, ordered cookies and tiny cakes to munch along with their afternoon tea and sat by Armin’s side the entire afternoon. Jean, who had cooked for everyone omelets like his mother had taught him, knew that Armin was jittery about their seating position but still could not wash away that horrible feeling of jealousy.

It was a nice, sunny afternoon that day, so Jean decided to finish his work outside and conclude the day’s sunlight with his sketchbook and charcoal. Drawing was like reuniting with a friend long separated since childhood. Jean appreciated how much bigger the city appeared now that the walls were gone. He no longer felt like cattle trapped in a pen when he thought about what he had experienced.

“Jean?”

The voice gave his heart a prickling sensation. He cocked his head at the eyes that haunted his most recent dreams. He chastised himself for thinking of how beautiful she was when he knew that she could never find him as attractive. “Yes?” he hesitantly asked.

“Are you done with your tea?” she asked with her finger pointing to the cup and saucer at his side, to which he shook his head and said that he would be in later for a warmer brew. He wanted her to leave him alone so he could forget about her and fall head over heels for someone who would love him over any other man in the world.

Then again…Eren tried to push her away. He insulted her, said nasty things to her that were devastating to someone he considered a sister…but she still held on.

I’m not him, Jean thought to himself. He looked up at Mikasa peering over the balcony at life below them. He inched closer for sketching inspiration. Two children who looked to be brother and sister were carrying armfuls of books that he suspected came from the new library. An elderly couple walking by ate a doughnut split in half. Two women, one hugely pregnant, were lounging outside a cafe and laughing.

Jean sighed to himself, wistfully hoping that he didn’t have to make too many more painful sacrifices for strangers below to live these deserved lives, and noticed that Mikasa stared under the balcony and then turned away with an almost pained expression. You don’t deserve her, he thought to himself. In a fresh state of anger, he tore in half the page on which he was sketching.

Mikasa sharply moved her head in his direction. “Jean?” she asked. “What was that?”

Jean looked down at the paper half crumbled in his fist and closed his eyes. Lie, he told himself. “Just…I just hope I’m heading in the right direction,” he said. He felt her looking at him and knew that she wasn’t going to look away. Sighing, he went on: “When I was a boy, years ago… I used to sketch what I wanted in adulthood, like how I wanted my home to look in the Military Police, what the city would look like from my window…even…” He swallowed. “...even how…how I imagined what my future wife would look like.”

Mikasa didn’t move or change her expression.

Keep making things up, he thought. Don’t let her suspect anything. He looked down at the sketchbook with a heavy sigh. “But then…things are taken away from you.” He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Like, the Battle of Trost, and seeing what happened to people we knew and trained with…and how I didn’t want to join the MP anymore…”

Still, Mikasa didn’t move or make a face. Jean looked away from her. “And thinking…with all that’s going on here in this island… would I be able to find someone, a woman…even though…” He stumbled and swallowed. “Even though this position as ambassador is supposed to be for the greater good of this island…what woman would want to risk her life to be with me if being an ambassador meant that Connie’s and my families had to rely on the Queen for protection?”

Mikasa knelt down at a reasonable distance from him. “Don’t you think that the right woman would want to take that risk?” she asked in her usual stoic voice. “If she loves you so much…then it would be a worthwhile relationship.”

Jean twisted his mouth. “But now…it would be hard to find her, because of the Yeagerists.” When Mikasa blinked, he explained: “Like, you don’t know who believes in them and who secretly opposes them, but you’re at a point where you can’t trust anyone for fear or retaliation.” Jean stared at the charcoal under his fingernails. “And let’s say I meet and fall for someone who used to side with the Yeagerists. I…I don’t know if I would be able to look at her the same, knowing that about her.

“Like…you know how Rico is a Yeagerist? And Hitch?”

Mikasa nodded with her mouth in a straight line.

“Let’s say they stop being Yeagerists and decided to work with us.” Jean sighed. “Like…knowing what I know now, I–I could never see myself really being even friends with them at this point in my life. It’s like when a friend lies, and it can ruin your friendship for so long, if it’s not already destroyed.”

“I understand,” said Mikasa.

Jean opened, then closed his mouth, and finally gave in. “Do you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “It is already difficult for me now, especially because of my affiliation with Eren. They know how close we were, so I still get Yeagerists asking me to join them, and they always say that he did it for me, for everyone on this island.” She shook her head. “No matter how much I miss him…I could never associate myself with a group that would proudly kill innocent lives and children. What he wanted was beyond my limits, and as much as I did not want to take his life…”

Jean felt guilty for bringing up painful feelings and angry with himself for reiterating that her love for Eren was strong enough to overlook where he hurt her indirectly, such as a desire to kill even children. He remembered questioning why in Liberio he couldn’t kill that boy who turned out to be Falco. Was it because he himself was unwilling to murder a child? It didn’t matter anymore. He set down his sketchbook, picked up his cup and saucer, and walked inside, where he washed the cup and saucer through grinding teeth. I’m not him, he thought. I could be everything you ever wanted or needed in a partner, but you would see only him and fantasize about him every time we–we…

Jean tried not to think subtle thoughts–of bedsheets, of panting, hands grasping bare backs, two bodies bringing the other to pleasure, morning kisses and nuzzles, and arms around waists, of two bodies trying to spend as much time together as possible. He closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against the cabinet.

For goodness sake, why can’t I get over you?! We’ve been through so much together, good and bad, that I thought these feelings would go away! You would not even want to imagine me as anything more, let alone even dream of a married life with me! You could marry as many men as you’d like and still insist that you be buried with that scarf and beside Eren at the tree, because no man’s love could ever fill that hole that he left you!

“Jean?”

He cocked his head without pulling away from the cabinet. She had come back inside and held his sketchbook and charcoal in one hand. “You left this outside. It’s supposed to rain later today.”

His sigh was not in relief. “Thank you.” He listened to her set down the sketchbook and turned back to the saucer under the soapy water. Why can’t I let go of these thoughts…

“Excuse me?”

Jean slightly jumped. It was Mikasa’s voice. “What?” he asked.

“You said something under your breath,” she pointed out. “Something about thoughts…”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just…lost my faith that things could get better.” He resumed washing the cup and saucer, but she didn’t move away.

For someone who didn’t like to talk about her feelings, she was making it awfully hard to deny his emotional turmoil.

“That’s odd to say, coming from an ambassador who is working towards peace,” she said in her usual monotone.

Jean remembered when he said that he could not imagine being friends with Rico or Hitch should they leave the Yeagerists. He knew that confessing his feelings to Mikasa would destroy whatever relationship they had, and that she could never think of him as a friend again. Frustrated, he dropped the porcelain in his hands and hung his head. “It’s been three years,” he croaked, “and…I still can’t rid of these feelings I have. I thought that my time in Marley, and being an ambassador–they would go away. But then I came home after these three years…”

He gripped the edges of the sink. “I thought they would go away like my ambition to join the Military Police,” he spat. “But these feelings…why can’t I force them to go away?”

“Feelings,” she repeated.

Jean felt set up and swallowed nausea bubbling in his throat. He looked at her over his shoulder. She was somehow even more beautiful than in the cadets, despite the trauma and pain they endured from fighting the right and wrong enemies. “Mikasa,” he said with burning eyes, “I didn’t save your life, I didn’t wrap that scarf around you, I didn’t let you live with me after your entire life changed in one day…but…”

He clenched his teeth after his rushed speech. “I could be and give you everything you wanted and everything you needed, but I’m not him! I could love you with every fiber of my being, but it wouldn’t erase the pain that he left you.” When the tears came, he brushed them away. “I just want you to be happy–like Armin does, like Connie does, like everyone else, I want you to be happy.” He took a shaky breath. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy and mourn over what had been, or a dream of what could have been. I told you to kill your best friend, your soulmate, and that will haunt me every day for the rest of my life.”

He turned away his face and rinsed off the cup and saucer to put on the drying rack, but before he could turn around, a hand touched his arm. Her expression didn’t change. “I thought we could be allies again, friends…” He bit his upper lip and watched the water go down the drain. “I should never have brought this up.”

Mikasa took a shaky breath and moved her hand up his arm to his shoulder, and Jean had no other choice but to meet her eyes. “Do you see yourself…giving yourself that chance?” she whispered. “If I let you…would you?”

The nausea was coming up his throat again, and Jean made himself swallow, though it was like gulping down scalding water. “If you let me?” he repeated. He shook his head. “Even if you gave me that chance… I would never make you forget him. I would never tell you to throw away that scarf. I would spend hours awake with you if you missed him so much that you couldn’t sleep at night. I would take you to his grave as often as you wanted to go. I would never make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, or become someone you were not. I would vow to you above myself, in good and bad.”

Jean’s heart was thumping so fast that he worried that he would have a heart attack. He put his wet hands on her waist without thinking and hitched his breath. “I never pursued women in Marley, and I didn’t know why, not even other Eldian women.”

Mikasa’s eyes were of uncertainty, and Jean felt even more guilty and ashamed of himself for making her feel like she had to give in to his dreams that he harbored for years, and that he could promise her a lifetime of happiness even if he wasn’t him. He dropped his hands from her waist, but then her hands–slender and warm–cupped the sides of his jaw and lowered his head so she could kiss the middle of his forehead.

***

Jean struggled to swallow the mouthful of soup, and not just because it was boiling hot–it was spicy, like the peppers that Marleyans warned made people cry. He inhaled and moved his blistering tongue around his mouth. “Good heavens, that was hurtful,” he panted.

Mikasa twisted her mouth. “I know,” she said, “but you know that the doctor said that this will clear out your system, kill the virus in you.”

Jean turned his head away and sneezed into his sleeve. “Ugh…felt like I sneezed out a chili pepper,” he groaned.

“You may as well have,” said Mikasa. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Jean, groaning louder, sat up and impatiently pulled the shirt over his head despite his aching muscles. “Sorry to keep adding to the laundry load,” he heaved as he fell back onto his pillow.

“Do not apologize,” said Mikasa. “I’ll let the soup cool down and take this outside, all right?”

“That sounds good,” Jean whispered.

At that moment, the door opened, and a pair of tiny footsteps walked into the room. “Marco?” said Mikasa. “What is it?”

The five-year-old’s face was on the verge of crying. “Mama…my throat hurts…” He threw back his head and sneezed into the crease of his elbow, trailing colored snot.

Mikasa immediately stood up and lifted her son onto her hip. “I’ll take you into the bathroom, and you can have a nice warm bath. It’s good for fighting the flu.”

Marco whined and rubbed his forehead against her collarbone.

Mikasa had just stepped out of the bedroom when she heard heaving and lurching in the bedroom across from hers. Without knocking, she opened the door and saw her little girl sitting on the floor with her face in the wastebin pulled between her pale, shaking legs. Poor thing was too weak to walk to the bathroom. “Sasha? Sweetheart?”

The three-year-old weakly lifted her head and started crying. “Mama… make it stop… It’s like sloppy joes…”

Mikasa swiftly helped Sasha onto her other hip and carried her children into the bathroom. She positioned Sasha’s head over the toilet, drew warm water, helped Marco out of his pajamas, and lowered him into the tub. The boy nearly yelped but then closed his eyes. “I don’t feel better yet,” he whined.

“You will,” his mother promised. “It will take time.” She glanced over the tub and saw that Sasha was on the floor, pressing her forehead against the tiles. “Sasha!”

Sasha protested when her mother tried lifting her. “No, Mama, my head… it feels nice…”

“If you keep laying like that, Sasha, you will only get sicker.” Mikasa removed Sasha’s nightgown and placed her in the tub beside her brother. At their mother’s instruction, the children held their breaths, pinched their noses, and dunked their heads under the surface. Once they came back up, Mikasa gathered their germy pajamas and told them to relax and not try to drown each other while she went outside. She would come back very soon, once she hung the new load to dry.

After five minutes, Mikasa finished hanging the soaking clothes and bedsheets, had unclipped the dry linens, and carried the basket back inside. She set everything onto the kitchen table to fold later and hurried back up to the bathroom. She opened the door and saw that the children were not in the tub.

Before panic struck, she instantly saw tiny droplets of water trailing into her and Jean’s bedroom. Mikasa followed the trail and peeked inside.

Marco cuddled to his father, his head on Jean’s ribcage, while Sasha was curled to Jean’s chest. Both children were wearing fresh sleepwear, and they still had towels wrapped around their heads. The three of them, aside from the occasional cough, were napping quite peacefully. Mikasa smiled to herself and left the room to give her sick family peace.

She went into Sasha’s room to strip off the soaked bedding, but the sheets were already pulled off and in a pile at the foot of the bed. On Sasha’s pillow was a sheet of paper with Jean’s recognizable handwriting: I got this for you. You go take a nap. You deserve it.

***

When Mikasa woke up from her nap, it was already dark. She didn’t hear coughing, so the children were probably still sleeping. She could probably take down the hanging laundry from outside and set up the beds for when the children woke up.

Mikasa went downstairs with a candle, but before she went outside, she peeked into the kitchen and saw that not only was the laundry that she brought in earlier folded and stacked on the table, but also folded were the children’s sheets and pajamas that they wore before their bath. Her mouth twitched in affection, and she went into the kitchen to pick up everything.

Inside, however, she saw Jean, wearing only slippers and a towel with droplets of water on his bare back and arms, at the stove, tending to the spicy soup that she fed him earlier. He turned his head when he heard her approach him and smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You, um…”

Jean smirked and ladled the soup into a small bowl. “Do you want one?” he asked her. “I suspect that you forgot to eat before your nap.”

He was always like that, worrying that Mikasa starved herself. She shrugged and said why not. She accepted the steaming bowl and waited for him to sit across from her before she ate. It was both spicy and hot enough to fully awaken her.

After the usual questions that Jean was all right, that he enjoyed his bath, how well were the children sleeping, and if anyone vomited or had trouble holding down food, Mikasa beckoned to the basket and folded cloths. “Why did you fold them for me? I could have done it.”

Jean shook his head. “I know, but you deserve rest. You may the only one of us who will remain in perfect health while everyone around you gets sick…but you’re my wife, my dearest love.” He set down his spoon and put his hand over hers. “Remember–we’re in this together, caring for the biggest, most important projects of our lives.”

Mikasa cocked her head and smirked. “I know–”

“But,” he cut her off before she could continue, “that doesn’t mean that I’m going to leave you to everything.” With those words, his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. “Remember what I said all those years ago? That I would put you above myself in good and bad times?”

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but she nodded. Jean continued: “I wasn’t saying that so you would give me a chance. I said those words because I meant them, just as much as I do now.” He pulled her hand to himself and kissed her knuckles. “I love you too much.”

Mikasa could not count how many times she heard him say those words, but they always gave her a light feeling in her chest that lifted her spirits. He knew that he could never erase away her old love, nor did he attempt to, but the joy he gave her because of the love he gave and the love that he had for their children made Mikasa glad that she gave him that chance. It was unlike how she imagined her future for years, but sometimes she appreciated how her life in reality was even better than her dream life.

#attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #jeankasa #armin arlert #annie leonhart #aruani #fanfiction #pieck finger #reiner braun #connie springer #jean kirschtein #jeanmika #jean x mikasa #mikasa x jean

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months

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Dark Knowledge: Part Five

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, tentacles, dubcon elements, forced proximity, power imbalance

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Part Five of Dark Knowledge (for @childofyuggoth)

The First and Last Dragonborn come together. Hermaeus Mora makes a move. Reality is returned.

Part Four

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dark knowledge masterlist

What are the options before you? What cards do you have to play?

The answer is few. There are not many things you can do when you’re at someone else’s mercy. Having to submit is insulting, but your pride is of little importance when there are greater perils showing their faces.

You escaped Hermaeus Mora only to land in Miraak’s lap. One hell for another. One terror traded for an arrogant, power-hungry bastard who believes you’ll join him, that there is no question about your compliance, and fighting against him is imaginable.

Miraak is wrong to think you won’t push back about his quest for power. Teldryn was right when he said that all of Tamriel’s ills are not your responsibility. They aren’t, even though sometimes it feels that way, and that every error or catastrophe can somehow be rectified if you take up the mantel yourself.

After the bath, you emerge to food. It isn’t exactly warm, but it is filling, and you notice that Miraak does not eat. But he does watch you from behind the mask, as if you consuming the meal is somehow hypnotic to him.

It’s unnerving, and every bite becomes staler in the mouth the longer he watches.

As the First Dragonborn, he must be incredibly old, but how is it that he has lived for so long? Is it because he has dwelled in Hermaeus Mora’s realm for all these years? Is Miraak alive simply because Mora has made it so, or is there something else going on? What magical secrets does Miraak keep locked away in his head?

“Afraid I’ll choke?” you ask dryly, not particularly liking his undivided attention.

The old rags you wore before are gone. They were whisked away by a Seeker, likely destroyed or maybe used for some nefarious purpose. In their place, you were offered simple, plain black robes. They’re similar to the robes the Ciphers of the Eye wear except yours ties off at the waist.

You’re thankful for the coverage of the material but nothing about this outfit will protect you in a fight. It seems inevitable that blood will be spilled. Whether that is yours or Miraak’s—or someone else’s—is yet to be determined.

Miraak is not your friend. He is not an ally. Nor is Hermaeus Mora. You distrust the both of them, but the Daedric Prince of Knowledge is the one you fear more. Gods are eternal. They can be pushed back, kept down, even restrained. But killed? No. Not Mora.

The easier target is Miraak, but right now he is all you have. He is just a man. He is arrogant, and clearly needful in his quest for power. Stringing him along might be enough for now until you can find a way out of this awful place.

“Mora’s scent is gone,” states Miraak, completely ignoring your question.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you mutter, consuming another bite of food. The bath Miraak provided was lovely, even if the conversation the two of you had struck a nerve, and made you question everything. Those followers of his tried you kill you, and yet Miraak didn’t want that. He’s made that perfectly clear several times over.

But there is still a part of you that doesn’t trust his offer. Even if you join with him, help him break out of Apocrypha and back into the lands of Tamriel, why would he have any reason to keep you around afterward? With his quest for domination, you would eventually become an obstacle, a barrier he’ll need to break through.

Miraak circles around the side of the table, coming to a stop next to you. You pause, utensil halfway to your mouth. His golden mask tilts slightly to the left, his broad shoulders taking up too much space.

It’s like you’re in a cage again. Trapped. Boxed in. But this time, there is a sensual sway to the way Miraak inserts himself into your space. It’s not exactly a threat, but there is certainly an underlying hunger radiating off of him.

With deliberate slowness, Miraak lifts his hand, and gently runs the back of his gloved knuckles down the length of your upper arm. There is an immediate spark, a quick burst of power that appears when he makes contact and then blinks out the moment he retreats.

You’re so focused on that sudden wave, that Miraak’s voice is a distant, gnarled thing that sound like you’re submerged in water.

“What?” you ask, blinking, your mind refocusing on the present moment.

“Mora’s scent is gone,” he repeats. “I shall replace it with my own.”

I shall replace it with my own.

No. You are not Miraak’s to toy with. You are not his wife, or even his partner. You owe him nothing, and you are not his property.

The utensil drops from your hand, clattering against the vessel your food is served in. Power ripples up from your toes, sending the edges of your fingers tingling with need to lash out. A deep, primal part of you tells you to do just that, to rip off that mask, and go for his eyes. But you are also incredibly exhausted, and the rising power fades as quickly as it appears.

“I am not an object,” you growl, pushing off from the table.

You need some distance even though there is little space for you to escape to. Whatever you decide, Miraak will simply run after you. It’s clear that he’s not going down without a fight, especially on keep you to himself and not leaving you to Mora’s whims.

“No,” croons Miraak. “You are more than that. You are Dovahkiin.”

When Miraak speaks the word, the ground and earth shakes. It startles you so severely that you reach out for the table, eyes widening in fear. Won’t Hermaeus Mora hear that? Won’t he know that you’re here?

“What are you doing?” you snap. “Hermaeus Mora will hear you.”

“Will he?” Miraak replies, the delivery so casual that you nearly choke in disbelief.

“This is Apocrypha. This is his home. He knows all here.”

Miraak taps his knuckles on the table. “You should finish eating.”

Now you’ve truly had enough. Pushing off from the table, your cross your arms over your chest. “If you want my cooperation, you need to be nicer to me.”

Miraak’s hand flattens against the top of the table. “I have bathed you. Provided you food. Showered you with compliments.”

You snort. This man is arrogance personified. “You told me I smell and then proceed to order me around.”

“Hermaeus Mora is laughing at us. He knows you’re here with me. Likely amused with our…disagreement.”

“You’re delusional.”

Miraak slams his hand against the tabletop. Everything atop it rattles. “And you are trying my patience.”

“My apologies,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Men are always complaining. They always whine when they don’t have their way, especially if a woman will not bend to them. You’re not going to bend, but you might twist a bit as a way to ensure your survival.

Miraak’s hand forms into a fist, and yet you know he does not intend to strike you. There is something defeatist about the way he does it, like he’s losing hope. But about what? While you are aware that Miraak desires freedom, that he longs to return to Tamriel once again, you also know that Hermaeus Mora is in the way. As are you to a certain extent.

It is entirely likely that Miraak can return to Tamriel with or without your assistance. Why all this effort to keep you around if you’re entirely capable of putting a stop to all of his plans? Is it only to keep you out of Hermaeus Mora’s grasp? Or does Miraak seek something else?

Whatever Miraak’s internal conflicts, they aren’t yours to figure out.

“Hermaeus Mora probably thinks you’ll kill me or I’ll kill you. Which is why he hasn’t intervened yet,” says Miraak flatly. “That is unfortunate…for him.”

“How so?” you ask, entertaining him for the hell of it.

“Because you will join me. That is inevitable.”

You sigh heavily. “I’m not interested.”

Miraak shrugs. “It does not matter that you’re uninterested. You have no choice in this.”

“I have no choice?” you scoff. “Are you listening to yourself?”

This man is truly delusional. Miraak is almost or perhaps even more arrogant than Hermaeus Mora. You’re in hell. This is torture, having to listen to and be pushed around in this forsaken place with no will of your own.

Returning his hand to the top of the table, Miraak starts to walk toward you. His stride is languid, and you’re sure he’s smirking behind that golden mask.

“The Last Dragonborn will join me. Or die. Those are the only options.” With the agility of a serpent, Miraak grabs the back of your neck, and draws you closer. On instinct, your hands go up to rest against his chest. You try to push back, but your muscles are tired, and there is true power behind Miraak’s grip.

“Do you wish to die, Dovahkiin? Or will you waste such beauty?”

Snarling, your rip yourself out of his grasp, almost tumbling to the floor in your haste to find space.

“Don’t touch me,” you snap.

“My scent belongs on you,” replies Miraak, his voice soothing even though you feel anything but. “And you on me.”

Grabbing the nearest object—an empty bowl—you hurl it at Miraak. He bats it aside. The bowl strikes the ground, shattering.

“You’re mistaken if you believe I’ll ever lay with you.” You back up, not watching where it is you’re going.

“Oh, but you will. Don’t you feel that attraction? That power between us? Because I do. And I know it is not something easily denied.”

This time you grab a book. It’s rotten, and your fingers sink into it, but you hardly care. “You’ll only find pleasure with your own hand, Miraak.” You hurl the book at him and he catches it out of the air, lightly tossing it to the side.

“Then you will watch. And want to join.”

You can hear the amusement in his tone, the teasing underneath his words. It’s irritating, and yet your body warms with the idea, betraying your growing anger. This isn’t right, and it’s not fair. You don’t want any part of this.

Turning on your heel, you run for the platform, intending to throw yourself over the ledge and into the maze below. Miraak does not stop you. He only follows, moving slowly, as if his pace will catch up to you.

When you make it onto the platform, you jump, preparing to use your Thu’um to catch your fall. Hovering in the air, you are weightless, holding in suspension. Now, you feel true freedom.

Your body starts to sag, and then descent kicks in.

But it is short-lived. Fleeting.

One moment you are falling and the next everything blinks out and returns, your feet on familiar ground. You’re back in Miraak’s tower. You’re back in the room and Miraak is only a few feet away.

“You can’t run from me,” he says.

You don’t stop to question what just happened. Instead, you take off again, priming your legs to lift you off the ground.

Your feet leave stone, and then it happens all over again. This time, you’re even closer to Miraak. Again, you run, and again you are pulled back to him, teleported over and over until you’re nearly within his grasp.

Trying once more only lands you directly in front of him. This time you cannot run. This time you cannot bolt.

“I can call you back to my tower as often as I like. There is no fleeing from me.” Miraak takes hold of your upper arm. Your strike out at him, but Miraak is quicker, twisting your arms against your back and bending you over the nearest table.

“So you’re going to take what you want?” you snarl, bucking against his hold which only presses you into his groin. You feel the hard outline of him through his robes.

“That is where you’re wrong, Dragonborn. I am not going to take from you. You are going to give in. You will surrender to me. You will join with me of your own desire.”

“I doubt that,” you growl.

Miraak does not respond. Instead, he drags you off the table, spins you around, and effortlessly lifts you by the waist and situates you on the edge. Miraak stands between your legs as your hands grip the front of his robes. One hand stays on your waist while the other rests against the top of your thigh.

“Shall we test it out?” Miraak’s gloved fingers squeeze your flesh through the robes you wear. “Spread your legs, Dragonborn. Let me have a taste.”

His touch is fire, rippling through your body like an inferno. Miraak is right. The teether is strong. Its tug is even more apparent now that you’re nearly under him.

“You wish you could feast between my thighs. It is an honor you’ll never have.” Your words are hollow. Deep within yourself, a primal part of you understands that it will happen, that the two of you will join bodies even if it is momentary.

Miraak leans closer, the golden mask nearly brushing against your cheek.

“Grant me this one request, Dragonborn. And then you can decide.” His voice drips like honey. It is sweet and deadly. Poisonous comfort. His hands are under your robes, massaging bare thigh. “Remove my mask.”

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper, even as your fingers loosen around the front of his robes.

“Don’t deny yourself.” Miraak’s voice is a caress, one that moves you to action.

Slowly, you release his robes, hands falling upon the sides of his golden mask. Miraak does not draw out of your touch, nor does he cower or hide. He stands perfectly still, waiting for you to remove it.

There is a slight tremor in your fingers before your resolve shifts into place, becoming steel. Perhaps under the mask, Miraak is a monster. Or he is simply a man. Nothing more. The only way to find out is to get this over with, to remove the mask, and face him directly.

Your fingers grip the sides, and then the mask gives, surrendering as you start to remove it. Miraak’s features come in a slow reveal. First, there is pale skin and scars. Next comes piercing dark eyes followed by a strong chin and jawline. The last feature is Miraak’s hair. Silky, shoulder-length, and blond. It falls into place once the mask is gone and resting in your hands.

Miraak is handsome, and for some reason you did not expect that, which is downright irritating. He is your enemy. You need to escape from here, to get away from him, and yet his knowing smile is all sultry prowess, like you removing the mask is the first step to victory.

His hands are what bring you back to reality. They are at the tops of your thighs where your legs meet your body. He is dangerously close to your core. Just a small movement and he’d be brushing his thumb over your clit.

“This is your monster,” murmurs Miraak, his mouth dangerously close to yours.

His fingers dig in deeper, and then tug you to very edge, your legs forcing further apart around his hips. “Am I so terrible?” he asks.

No. He’s not. In the mortal world, if a man like this propositioned you, you’d likely take him up on the offer. But this is Miraak. The First Dragonborn.

“Not physically,” you reply, immediately hating yourself for admitting so.

Miraak’s smile is nearly playful, and perhaps it’s really not so bad. He is just a man. Not a god. Give him some slack, let him believe he is winning, and then tug it all out from under him.

Leave him hanging. Leaving him swinging.

Those hands of his ease upward, his forearms pushing your robes open further, revealing more leg and thigh. Miraak starts to sink to the floor, and you’re utterly hypnotized by the way his gaze slowly drops to the place between your legs.

You’re not sure what you see upon his face. An emotion passes over it, one that appears and disappears quickly, slipping through your fingers, escaping your ability to comprehend it before its gone.

Miraak’s breath against your thighs is warm. It tingles, nearly tickles your skin. You’re not ashamed of your body, but you are nervous. You’re vulnerable like this, and this man is supposed to be your enemy.

But an enemy does not place their mouth upon you like he does. When Miraak’s lips and tongue touches your flesh, there is an immediate connection, a string pulled taut, your back arching, hips nearly coming off the table as he caresses your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“There she is,” murmurs Miraak. His tongue darts out against, circling your clit with several soft strokes that has your thighs quivering, squeezing around his head like you’re trying to crush him.

“This changes nothing,” you groan as Miraak’s hands drag along your thighs and he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go out, grab at his shoulders and his hair. Your fingers tangle in his blond locks, mouth hanging open as you try and fail to slow your breathing. The power is drowning and ice cold. It is a slap against the heat burning under your flesh.

Miraak releases your clit, only to lazily flick over and around it. It’s almost lazy in the way he does it, and you’re so sensitive, that the pleasure building in your spine rockets upward, rippling out into your limbs, seizing your muscles.

Your back bends, curls forward, fingers digging into his scalp as your end appears with a choked moan. Miraak grins against your sex as your body responds in little tremors. He is victorious, and while you’re buzzing, this is not enough to make you join him.

As the peak of your orgasm begins to fade, your lips part, words forming on your tongue. It’s to tell him he’d failed. That, while his tongue knows what it’s doing, it isn’t enough to make you join him.

Seeming to sense your rebuttal, Miraak’s mouth returns to your cunt, his tongue sliding over you yet again.

“Oh, gods,” your groan, completely falling back against the table, your grip on him slipping.

One of Miraak’s hands fall away from your thigh, only for a finger to press at your entrance. Your legs obediently fall wider, opening like a flower. Miraak’s own groan on pleasure drifts up from between your legs, and the sound is enough to make the power under your skin vibrate in response.

The connection is growing, becoming stronger, deeper. Perhaps inseparable. And yet you’re hardly thinking of that. You’re concentrated on the slow thrusts of his finger in and out of your body, and how his tongue moves in perfect rhythm with it.

Another wave slams into you, and Miraak does not cease. He devours and tastes, giving and giving until tears form in your eyes. The pleasure is unending, bordering on painful. Only then does Miraak give you relief. Only then does he pull away from your body.

Miraak’s lips and chin drip with you. He grins, proud of his accomplishment. “What do you think now, Dragonborn?”

Your chest heaves, and your mind is gone, drifting off into Apocrypha’s atmosphere. “Can’t speak?” he chuckles. “Perhaps you need something else to find your voice.”

With a quickness that surprises, Miraak lifts you off the table and into his arms. You are soft and pliant, more like melting snow than the strong warrior that you are. It is but seconds before Miraak brings you down on the bed, slipping your robes off in the process, leaving you bare and open for his gaze.

He sighs with contentment, hands roaming up and down your body. “By the end you will want only me. I promise.”

The orgasms Miraak just gave you make it hard to think, to even process his words. The euphoria of pleasure is still beating beneath your skin, burning bright and hot. Miraak is removing his own clothes, tossing them aside as if they’re nothing at all.

You reach for him, and his response is a low growl of need, his hands slipping between your legs to guide your thighs open and up. Where has all your resistance gone? It is washed away. Missing.

Miraak’s cock slides over your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. The head bumps against your clit with each pass, and it only drives your sensitivity higher, the muscles in your thighs quivering with anticipation.

Slowly, Miraak starts to drape himself over your body, trapping your legs in this position as the head of his cock begins to slide in. There is brief resistance before it glides in, and then your body welcomes him entirely.

You both groan when he bottoms out.

Miraak rolls his hips backward, and then thrusts forward, his head falling to burrow against the side of your throat. His hands reach for your arms, bring them over your head, crossing your wrists. Then, with one hand, he presses down on those wrists, pinning you to the bed with more than just his hips.

Using your locked wrists as leverage, Miraak begins to pound into his, each thrust powerful and steady. He hits deep, and each meeting pushes the air from your lungs. You can hardly hold on. You can only desperately reach for reality. It is slipping. Falling away.

Like this, you are at his mercy. You are at Miraak’s pleasure. And he takes full advantage, claiming you in a way that no other man ever has. There is no reason for sex with him to be this good. It’s simply impossible.

It has to be the connection, the buzzing battering of power that seems to exchange hands every time his hips smack into yours. His nose nuzzles against your neck, and Miraak inhales deeply, sighing as he exhales. His lips, which are surprisingly soft, brush against your skin in tender caress.

This isn’t fair. It makes no sense.

Miraak shifts position, forcing your legs open wider, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with each renewed thrust. You sink into the bed, surrendering to the pleasure, basking in how perfectly the two of you fit together.

Those powerful, steady thrusts of his become erratic and needy. He is heading toward his own end, seeking it out in desperation. You can tell by the way his soft grunts become breathy groans against your throat.

Miraak’s hand encases your throat, squeezing slightly as he arrives at his end. He grinds forward, groaning loudly as your cunt squeezes around him, his releasing emptying inside you.

“How does it feel, Dragonborn? To truly be mine?”

Using his hand around your throat, Miraak guides you to face him, his lips hovering against yours but not fully closing the distance.

You don’t answer him. Don’t dare speak. There is no agreeing to that, regardless of how wonderful you feel.

And Miraak does not kiss you. He only nuzzles your cheek before he releases your throat and then your wrists. With a carefulness that surprises, Miraak slides out of your body, leaving a hollowness you don’t particularly like.

He lifts himself up enough to help your legs fall to bed. Kept in that position, the backs of your thighs burn, and seeming to know this, Miraak starts to caress and massage these muscles even as he shifts to lay at your side. He is incredibly tender, but you’re unsure if it is performance or genuine concern.

One of Miraak’s hands slides between your breasts and pauses on your belly, pressing lightly. This one touch pulls at a thought, draws forth a doubtful tug that sits heavy in your chest.

“Miraak!”

Hermaeus Mora’s voice rings loud around the tower. It’s piercing like an arrow and you slap your hands over your ears in an attempt to cut off the bloody sound.

Miraak’s arms immediately wrap around you, tightening. He pushes you onto your back, his body draped over yours protectively. The middle of his brow wrinkles with anger, and his mouth is formed into an animalistic snarl. Miraak’s gaze darts everywhere, searching for the Daedric Lord.

He lowers his body, head dipping toward your face. Miraak to press his lips to your ear. “He will not take you from me.”

The possessiveness of his words twists your stomach.

“Show yourself, Miraak. Release the Last Dragonborn to me.”

Miraak chest expands as he inhales. His anger is palpable, nearly vibrating against your skin like a Seeker’s rattling cry.

“There is a Black Book at the top of this tower,” he continues to whisper against your ear. “Open it. And you will return to Solstheim.”

He draws back enough for you to turn to him.

“I will distract him,” mouths Miraak, carefully moving to the edge of the bed. Once there, he leisurely stands, completely naked. Only then does he begin to dress, taking his time in doing so. He’s drawing this out. Giving you a chance.

Knowing this is all the time you have, you snag your discarded robes and secure them quickly, not caring if they don’t look perfect or even practical. You just need to get to that Black Book and you’ll be free.

“You are trying my patience,” comes Mora’s voice. It is a rolling rumble, one that shakes your skeleton.

It is closer now, and you hurriedly slip out of the bed, keeping low as you move toward the spiral stairs at the far side of the room. Miraak is still taking his time, but his gaze is intense, watching you while also keeping any eye on the open platform.

Hermaeus Mora might appear right there in all his horrid splendor, and you don’t want to be anywhere near that space when he does.

As you slink by the alchemy shelves and place your foot on the bottom step of the stairs, you hear the slimy squelch of tentacles. Glancing over your shoulder, you watch with horror as at least a dozen black tentacles appear on the platform and archway. They curl around the stone or slide over it, seeking something—or someone.

But Miraak is not watching it. He is watching you. The golden mask is in his hands and his eyes are pleading, telling you to go. Swallowing down the memory of what Mora’s tentacles felt like, you ascend, stopping just as you step out of sight and hear Hermaeus Mora speak in a voice that is so near it sounds like he’s speaking just over your shoulder.

“Where is she, Miraak? I know she dwells within your tower. I sense her.”

Keeping low, you peer around the small structural wall that supports the ceiling and the level above. Mora’s form takes up the entire platform. He is so large, even larger than the dragon that brought you here. Miraak seems like nothing more than discarded parchment in comparison to the Daedric Lord of Knowledge, and yet Miraak appears unafraid of his master.

“I do not command the Last Dragonborn,” replies Miraak, voice calm.

Hermaeus Mora bristles, his tentacles vibrating as if he’s shaking off a shiver. “But you want to. I sense your desire to control her. You believe she’ll bring you great power.”

Miraak says nothing, and Mora’s massive form deflates slightly as if releasing a great exhale. “She hides from me. Tell me, champion, where is she?”

Still, Miraak says nothing.

“What do you think you will gain?” asks Hermaeus Mora. More tentacles appear, sliding into the interior of the tower from the platform. “Is it power over me?” The massive singular eye in the middle of Mora’s horrid form blinks slowly. “That would be foolish.”

“I do not seek to usurp you.”

“But you are restless,” replies Mora, one of the larger tentacles snapping in the air like a whip.

Hermaeus Mora’s massive eye swivels in the socket, seeking you out. You sense Mora’s magic creeping up from nowhere, sinking in to everything around you. It is an anchor, and you realize that he is physically trying to draw you out into the open.

You will not go back to him. You will not return to the prison he put you in.

That anchor, those invisible teethers, are tentacles in their own right as they attempt to snatch you from your dark shroud and drag you into his horrific presence. Resisting their pull, your foot slips, slamming hard into the rock, the sound echoing around the tower.

Hermaeus Mora large eye snaps in your direction. Miraak turns too, his shoulders stiff. It is quiet before chaos.

“Dragonborn!” roars Hermaeus Mora, the tower rattling from the sheer strength of his voice.

Twisting, you start up the remaining stairs, nearly slipping on every damn step as you ascend.

Turning, you start up the remaining stairs, nearly slipping on every damn step as you ascend. The tower shakes, and Mora roars, his anger palpable. You throw yourself up the last bit of stairs, only to be spit out into a small room with a singular window. In the middle of the room is a black stone pedestal. Resting on top of it is a Black Book.

Like the one you opened, this too oozes black mist and hums in its own voice. This time, there is no nefarious pull. There is only desperation on your end as you the tower rumbles, tossing you to the side like a discarded doll.

Crawling on your hands and knees toward the pedestal, your reach of the rock, helping yourself up to standing, staring down at the large tome before you. This is your out. This is your chance. It is done.

Grabbing the edge of the cover, you force it open, the pages moving with you, following the cover.

Just as before, there is nothing. The pages you stare at are blank. In the next second, all sound disappears as if the room is frozen in time, and Hermaeus Mora’s roar is a distant thing. Even the shaking of the tower is far away. You don’t even feel it.

The sudden silence is followed by a soft pop, and the world comes hurtling forward. The blank pages begin to fill in archaic, living writing. The unknown words and symbols move across the page in systematic lines and circles. Some are large and easy to see while others are so tiny they float around in the background in faint swirls.

Between the pages is a void. It emerges from the binding, moving outward over the pages. It is an abyss, and its emptiness drags you forward, your feet lifting off the floor until you’re on your toes.

Tentacles burst forth from the darkness, sliding over and around you, wrapping around your arms and shoulders. They suction to your face and neck. They probe and push as this time you do not resist them. While you know what’s coming, you also know that this is your only way out. Escape is possible as long as the tentacles pull you through before Hermaeus Mora finds you.

You’re hauled forward, tipping down into the abyss, delving into the darkness. There is a loud roaring and then your feet land on…wood.

The odd, almost stagnant temperature of Apocrypha is gone. Instead, there is warmth. Physical heat with the slightest bite of cold air. Your nostrils flare, inhaling the scent of burning firewood, and roasting meat.

Glancing up, you find yourself in a vaguely familiar structure. It’s a shaman’s shack. You’ve been here before. You’ve stayed in this home, eaten shared food, and listening to stories.

It’s a Skaal home. This is Storn’s home.

A familiar voice calls your name. It’s a bit slurry as if you’re listening on the other side of a door. Slowly, you shift to the right, glancing in that direction, only to see Teldryn. The edges of him are blurry but become clearer by the second.

“Teldryn,” you breathe, arms going out to him.

He sighs with relief and wraps his arms around you. “Azura be praised,” he murmurs against the top of your head.

“You’re squeezing me too hard, Teldryn,” you mutter against his chest, voice muffled.

“Shut up. I’m sad I’m not getting the house.”

You laugh, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. When he pulls back to glance down at your face, all that relief washes away, replaced by worry.

“What is it?” you ask just before the world starts tipping.

You blink. Shake your head. Attempt to throw off whatever this odd feeling is. There is a slithery sensation over your skin. A creeping that drags, pulling you into a soft weightlessness.

Teldryn calls your name but you are falling to your knees even with his arms around you.

Reality is fading.

Fading fast.

Dovahkiin.

“No.”

Dovahkiin.

Within your chest and head, Mora’s voice blooms and grows, shoving you down into an abyss.

Part Four

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i-me-mine · 9 months

Text

As time goes by | Chapter 17: Gone

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 8k

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | AO3

Chapter Summary: Enjoying your last days in Hawkins before leaving for college could have been easier if you hadn’t had to deal with the fact that Eddie ran away and left you alone after you kissed.

Notes: Sorry it took so long for me to update this! Life got in the way, then I got locked out of Tumblr; it took me a while to get back to writing… and then I wrote this super long chapter - I thought about splitting it into 2 chapters, but it’s been so long since I posted that I didn’t want to delay it anymore xD.

People spend their whole lives experiencing moments and sensations that become memories that, over time, will weaken and disappear. But you were sure you’d never felt an emotion like the one that washed over you when Eddie kissed you. The feel of rough guitar-playing fingers on your skin felt etched into you, and his lips’ soft, urgent touch felt like you were meant to merge into one. The wave of feelings invading your being in those moments changed you fundamentally. You didn’t see how you could be the same after that.

And knowing that Eddie was gone and that you probably wouldn’t get the chance to feel that again was unbearable. It was one thing to dream of what it would be like, a wish lost in the realm of imagination… and another to have that vivid memory bubbling up inside you. You already knew you were going to suffer, like a drug addict going through withdrawal.

The sounds seemed far away while you were still deep in thought, but you could hear Steve’s voice, with a falsely excited tone, trying to encourage everyone to return to the backyard, drawing attention away from you. The room grew quieter, and you felt Robin nudging your shoulder.

“You are full of surprises, huh? I was betting on Harrington... But, you like Munson, then?”

“Yes,” you murmured, admitting it.

“But you like him, like… for real? How much?” Nancy urged, trying to get more information from you.

“Obviously more than he likes me, not that I can help that,” you sighed, ashamed, remembering how everyone saw you being rejected.

“Judging by the intensity of that kiss, I’m sure there is more love than you may imagine. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to keep things PG here.” Robin tried to cheer you up.

You shook your head in doubt, though your heart throbbed at her words, and you wanted more than anything to be able to believe them. At that moment, when you were his, and he was yours, everything seemed perfect, making it easy to feed your delusions that he could love you back.

Robin and Nancy started commenting on the boy’s dares, making fun of their performances, trying to make you laugh. After a while, you were feeling a little better, and you joined the rest of the gang, and gladly, no one else brought up the subject of Eddie up, so you tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night. As everyone returned home and you and Steve remained, he opened his arms, and you ran to his embrace, allowing yourself to cry. He knew you were hurt, and you knew that you could let your tears run freely around him, that he would offer you comfort, not judgment.

“It was too good to be real.” you breathed deeply. “How can the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me be at the same moment?” you mourned. “Why doesn’t he love me? Am I such an unlovable person?”

“Please, how could you think he doesn’t love you after that kiss? Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like that… I can’t even imagine what it was like for you guys who felt that. Someone who doesn’t love you wouldn’t kiss you like that; it’s impossible.”

All you could hope was that it had been as special to him as it was to you.

“But still, it wasn’t enough to make him stay. I think I’m just gonna have to leave it at that.”

Steve frowned. “Why are you saying that? Are you going to hide from him?”

“I won’t need to.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you…”

“He will do it for me. That’s what he does, what we do,” you explained. “Except that we used to do it together, hide away from our problems, from the world… But now I’m the reason why he hides away. So I have no other option than letting him go.”

“Don’t bullshit me, little lady... You may get hurt, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

But you were not sure how many times you still wanted to try. Sometimes you thought that you just don’t know Eddie anymore, that you don’t understand his signs… or that maybe he is not giving any signal at all; it’s just you wishing to have something to hold on to.

“The truth, Steve… the hard truth is that if he wanted something with me, he would have made it clear already, he wouldn’t leave.” you used the back of your hands to wipe your tears, “but he always leaves. And I love him so much, but I’m tired of being on this alone.”

Your suffering hurt Steve deeply. He didn’t understand why things couldn’t be easier for you - if someone with a heart as good as yours was not happy in love, how could anyone else? It wasn’t fair.

“You know, some people live their whole lives and will never get the chance of getting a kiss like that or loving someone as much as you love him. Why don’t you just admit how you really feel? He deserves to know the truth. You deserve to get this out of your chest. I can’t stand you keeping secrets about this.”

“It was just a kiss out of a dare, and look what happened. I can’t say anything; I’m afraid it will only worsen things.”

Steve knew you were confused and hurt, and he didn’t want to push you further, but he also loved you too much, so he couldn’t help but be honest and try to open your eyes.

“Have you noticed that usually bad communication happens out of fear? Fear of conflict, fear of the result, fear of reaction…” he noticed how you looked down, avoiding his gaze. “This fear is a little monster that, if not crushed at the first opportunity of being honest, will grow, and this will become an evergrowing snowball jeopardizing everything.”

“When did you get so wise, big boy?”

“I think you bring the best out of me” he kissed the top of your head.

You were grateful that Steve let you stay there that night. The warm shower, plush sheets, and comfy bed in Steve’s guest room were welcoming, a lull in the middle of the hustle and an escape route from the trailer park, where you’d deep down wanted to be if only things had gone your way, but couldn’t think about going back after all that happened. You were daydreaming in bed when a light tap on the door caught your attention; Steve walked in and sat next to you.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am. I’m sorry for my little breakdown earlier… I’ve changed my mind… I’m glad that I’m able to love him so much.” you spoke a little too quickly as if trying to justify something to him. “Could you imagine how hard it would be going through life without ever feeling something so great?”

“That’s my girl! Things won’t be this bad forever.”

“I know… and I could have avoided all this pain… but it would also mean I would miss all the awesome moments I shared with him. Things are not perfect, but I think I can live with that.” you shrugged.

“Speaking about the pain that could be avoided, but gladly was not… I think I never told you, but thank God I met you when I did… you changed my life.” he held your hand. “I was so heartbroken because of Nancy… I could have easily gone back to being a douchebag that didn’t care about anyone…”

“I doubt that, Steve…”

“I mean it.” he interrupted you. “I was confused back then, but you helped me. And you made me care about you. You showed me that there are still people with good hearts out there.”

“And you are one of them! Come here, big boy” You hugged Steve tightly, and he gently rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You saved me… and I can’t save you… that makes me so sad.”

“I don’t know how I would have survived all of this without your support, Steve. You are the best, and you are very special to me.”

You genuinely enjoyed spending time with him and getting to know him as a person was undoubtedly one of the few good things you got out of the whole nightmarish period when Eddie was with Samantha. You appreciated Steve’s kindness, loyalty, and sense of humor. He deserved so much more credit than he got.

“Same here, little lady. I just wish you didn’t have to go so far away… but I’m sure you’ll do great things..”

“Just wait and see what I’m about to do with my life.” you laughed. “But don’t worry, a part of me will always be with you.”

“I’ll miss you so much! Who is going to hang out with me now? No one understands me as you do. How am I going to keep myself busy without you here?”

“You won’t be alone. The kids love you, especially Dustin. Robin is great too.”

“Yeah, but she hates me.”

“She’ll learn to love you, just like I did.”

“I’m not so sure of it! I’ll miss having someone to take care… and be taken care of.”

“Take care of our kids for me, will ya? I’m sure they’ll need you. And don’t stop looking, you’ll find someone.”

“I’ll try my best! I’ll let you rest now. Everything will be better tomorrow; you’ll see.”

He kissed your forehead softly and stroked your hair like a loving father saying goodbye to a child at bedtime. All you could hope was that his words were true, that things would improve. But in the meantime, you could still find refuge in the memory of the kiss that changed everything.

It’s strange to see how a whole life fits into just a few cardboard boxes. Memories of years, happy and sad moments, little pieces of you separated into piles, cataloged as things to take to college, leave at home, and donate. Packing up your things was a long process over days, but it helped you physically stay away from Eddie, even though your thoughts were always on him. Until one day, as you were putting out the garbage, he approached slowly as if afraid you would run away from him.

Eddie, the vivid chaotic boy, who just couldn’t shut up about things, who always narrated so many campaigns, who had a quick mind ready to counter any smart player in D&D, was now tongue-tied, unable to find the right words to say, with a heart full of emotions and words stuck in the throat, repressed. He tentatively raised one hand as a ‘hello’ and just got a slight nod of your head as a response, which made his stomach ache.

“I’m sorry for fucking this up. I hate the silence between us. Shit, I miss you.” he bursted.

“A little late for that, don’t you think?”

You shouldn’t sound so wounded, damn it; you also missed him, you shouldn’t be pushing him, but your instinct gave out that reactive response before you could control yourself. You could see Eddie closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Look, I don’t want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in life, knowing that soon you are going away.” the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t slept well in days. “So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, stupid, and if you were merciful, we could take a shot at just pretending nothing changed and being friends again.”

The sad look in his eyes reminded you of the face he used to have sometimes as a kid. You hadn’t had an easy childhood, but you also knew that you’d somehow muddled your way through it because you had each other to hold on to. Time has passed, but somehow you were still those two kids, not knowing what you were doing but always there for each other. And you had to believe that it wouldn’t change.

“Ok, I can do that.” you would rather have small pieces of him than nothing. “I miss you, Eds.” you gave him a small, shy smile, thinking how it was so good to tell him that, knowing all the feelings behind that.

Seeing your shimmering eyes and smile made his heart beat quickly. He wanted to take you in his arms and kiss you, but he wanted to take things slow, not wanting to risk losing you again.

“So, you should come to see us at The Hideout tonight… that could be your last chance to see us making a fool of ourselves on the stage before leaving us here.”

“I’ll be there; Gareth invited me… I’ll always be Corroded Coffin’s number 1 fan, no matter what happens or where I am.”

“Then let me show you firsthand the new song I’ll be playing today!” His eyes were now glimmering with barely contained excitement, holding your hand and guiding you to his trailer.

He showed you the setlist, played some songs, and told you how they almost secured a fixed weekly day to play at the hideout. He was so happy - It was so good to have that soft, funny Eddie back - that boy willing to make a fool of himself just to make you laugh and feel comfortable and happy. It was easy to forget all the worries while standing with him in his bedroom.

“We should stop running away from each other; things are always better when we are together,” he said, out of breath, after playing a few songs.

“Hey, don’t look at me; maybe the problem is you.”

“Oh, the problem is definitely me, I’m sure.”

“You have been nothing but trouble since our younger years,” you said, throwing a pillow at him.

“But it was fun,” he threw it back. “I didn’t know how much I liked you until I realized every time I saw you, I just smiled…. even you being an annoying little girl, I couldn’t stay away.”

And you smiled hearing his words, without even meaning to, like some infectious effect that Eddie had on you.

“The idea of having an older boy to protect me was too good to let it pass. I’m glad I found you.”

“I’m glad you never gave up on me.” As much as it was true, those tiny confessions were still hard to come out of Eddie’s mouth, so how the hell was he supposed to say anything else? He was trying to take small steps, but it was not getting any easier.

He laid down next to you without a word. It could have been an awkward silence, but staying next to him was too good of a sensation for you to complain about.

“Do you think I’ll adapt to college life? Sometimes it does not feel like something for me,” you said in a shy voice, as that was a genuine concern in your heart.

“I’m sure you’ll do great! You were made for this! I was not made for college, and unfortunately, I was also not made for anything else” Eddie hugged you and started to brush his fingers through your hair.

“You were made for being with me,” you thought but did not dare to say. As much as you wanted to kiss him and tell him how much you wanted him, you were also happy to be able to be there, hugging him again.

When you embraced Eddie, you felt like it was a kind of energy transmission, and it made you feel at peace, even if for a few seconds. Staying there with him like this was like the world stopped so you could be truly happy for a while. Even if just for a bit.

And in times like these, feeling his arms around you, you thought that there was nothing greater in life than your love for him… and that it should count for something… but you also knew that it was nonsense, that you were just living the last few breaths of something that had already ended.

“That was amazing, guys!!” you exclaimed as you entered the backstage.

“Things will be way quieter now that we won’t have you single-clapping for us after the show anymore.” Jeff laughed.

Acid remarks were being thrown on each side - you would surely miss spending time just hanging out with the boys at the hideout. Eddie, however, was grumpy in the corner of the room, clearly not sharing the fun vibe that was going on. When he noticed you taking gifts from your backpack to give to the boys, the farewell gifts you were distributing to everyone, he couldn’t handle that anymore and stormed out of the room.

“Don’t worry about him; he is just having a hard time dealing with… you know… the fact you are leaving soon” Gareth face transformed with a huge smile when he saw the red flannel shirt you gave him. “I love it, by the way.”

“Yeah, you rock!” Jeff added, proudly looking at the Black Sabbath shirt you gave him.

“Would you mind if…” you started saying

“Go, he needs you.” Gareth encouraged you with a smile.

You found him smoking a cigarette, looking to the stars, and he let out a startled gasp when he noticed you approaching.

“Would you mind sharing?” you said tentatively, getting a small smile from him, and he handed you the cigarette.

You stayed there for a moment when you finally broke the silence. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

He ran his hands on his face before looking at you.

“I just can’t understand how everyone could be so okay with you going away.”

“And I can’t understand why you are acting like this and wasting our time before I’m gone. It’s not easy for me, you know.” you countered.

Your sudden sincerity took Eddie aback. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His facial expression seemed confused for a moment, and suddenly he wrapped his arms around you, and you rested your head against his chest. His hands slid up your back, and his cheek leaned against your hair.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things worse… I’m just feeling lost,” He admitted.

“So am I,” you whispered.

The scariest thing about distance is that he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe you would miss him or completely forget about him. He never planned to fall in love with you, and things could be much easier if he didn’t. But at the same time, thanks to you, he knew that his life was way better.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” he offered.

The ride home was quiet, both of you with a million thoughts running in your heads but not verbalizing a single one. There were so many things you wanted to ask him… but you knew that Eddie would lose it if he knew what you were thinking and feeling. As you got to the trailer park and climbed out of the van, you asked the question that was burning in the back of your mind.

“So… what should we do with our last days here?”

“I just want to spend every possible minute of them with you,” he admitted.

How could someone give you so much strength yet still be your only weakness?

“Come on, then,” you said, pulling him into this trailer, feeling his warm and sweaty hand in yours. It was insane to think how you were both afraid of speaking about your feelings but were also unable to deal with how starved for each other closeness you were.

Laying on the bed beside him felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford. You wished that you hadn’t wasted so much time shutting him out, maybe it was already too late to live what you would really want to, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy what you have now.

“I know you are giving gifts to everyone, but would you accept one from me?” he whispered and smiled when you nodded, agreeing.

He then turned to hit play on his stereo, and you waited silently. Then the music began. And his voice, sweet, deep, passionate, started singing, and the lyrics described the travels of an adventurer in a distant land with his companion. Under that disguise, you recognized some of your own adventures and moments you both shared, and you knew it was a song about you. You listened, speechless and wide-eyed. You knew he was waiting for your reaction, but you couldn’t find the words to speak. Tears welled in your eyes, and you reached up to wipe them away before they streamed down your face.

“I thought that maybe you could take the tape to listen whenever you miss us.” his voice was low, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“Oh, Eds…” you started, but he interrupted you, putting a small package in your hand.

You opened it and couldn’t help but smile. It was a guitar pick necklace, but that wasn’t a typical guitar pick. When you were younger, you started doing small jobs here and there to get some coins, and the first thing you bought wasn’t something for you. You went to the music store and chose that pick for him. He used to tell you it was his lucky pick and used it in important concerts or whenever he was too anxious.

“Take it with you… maybe it would make you remember me once in a while. You know how it is, out of sight, out of mind.”

You took it in your hand and felt it for a moment. Its energy was warm and comforting, like a warm hug. You placed its chain over your neck and held it close to your heart.

“You’ll wear it?” he asked.

“Of course, I will.”

He grinned at you with that wide happy smile that melted your heart.

“You may not be able to be around me, sweetheart, but you can carry a piece of me with you,” he added shyly.

You reached out to touch his cheek, and he caught your hand, pressing it against his lips. He stroked your cheek With his other hand, and you could feel the blood rushing beneath your face. You stayed there, pressing your foreheads together, inhaling simultaneously. You wished you weren’t able to be so comfortable in silence because there were moments when things had to be said, but you both were, again and again, choosing to avoid speaking about what really mattered. Once again, you decided to delay a hard conversation and sank into sleep, enveloped in his warmth.

Eddie, however, was having a hard time falling asleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, you would disappear. He slowly realized how much he would miss that intimacy - holding the other in the middle of the night, cuddling, holding hands, laughing about something dumb the boys did or said, listening to music, reading to each other. All the lingering stares. All those conversations without speaking. He knew he would not find that with anyone else, and knowing that he was about to lose made him want to cry, and it took a long time until he finally gave up and slept.

Despite the gray day, the sun escaped and entered through the window. When Eddie woke the next morning, he gazed at your back as you slept and felt something that he couldn’t name in the pit of his stomach. It could have been desire or affection, but he knew it was more.

Your bat tattoo on display seemed to tease him. You made it as a promise that you would fly away together, but now you were leaving, and he would stay behind, left, forgotten. He wanted to hold you close and not let you go away, but he knew it was selfish.

“I’ll make you proud someday. I promise,” he murmured, knowing you could not hear him.

He lightly touched each of the bats in your tattoo, trying not to wake you, thinking if they would somehow help you fly back to him one day. A gasp left his lips as he noticed you turning to face him. But you were not awake, not yet. He noticed how your eyes started to blink and knew you were close to waking up, so close… he ran his hand over your face gently and wished he could keep you there. He wished he had the power to know what’s on your mind and wished you couldn’t know what’s on his as he was ashamed of all the messy thoughts clouding his mind.

“Are you awake already, sweetheart? Let me get you breakfast then” he kissed your forehead, getting up and leaving the room.

An idea has been forming in your mind the whole night, and you looked around, finding Eddie’s notebook and his pen. You hurried and wrote what you wanted desperately to tell him on a piece of paper, folding it and writing “For Eddie” on top of it, leaving it on his bedside table before leaving his bedroom.

You had existed in a blissful bubble for the past few weeks, living in the moment, savoring every second of the time you spent together. You watched movies, read to each other, went on hikes, laid on the top of his trailer, and gazed at the stars. You took advantage of any opportunity to find comfort in each other’s arms without crossing the line of a kiss again, but you were happy anyway. It had been easy during this time to put off any serious discussion, any talk of the future. But as your last day in Hawkins approached, Eddie started to get sad, and in his heart, he began to believe he wasn’t good enough for you and that soon you would realize it, so it would be better if you were not there by his side when it happened.

On the morning before your last day, you got up and left the trailer while Eddie slept on unawares, snoring softly. You promised Will that you would play one of his campaigns before leaving, and the boys would meet very early in Mike’s basement. You knew the campaign would likely go through the whole day, so you had already planned a sleepover with Nancy, and Max would join you. Joyce was kind enough to convince Hopper to let El join the boys during the day, so you had the chance to also say goodbye to her, but unfortunately, he didn’t allow her to stay the night.

It was fun playing D&D with the boys. You couldn’t wait until they got to high school; you were sure that Eddie would love to welcome them to Hellfire. They were excited when you gave them your old miniatures and D&D guides. You knew you wouldn’t have time for it in college, and D&D stuff is usually something that you pass from one player to the other - you hoped that maybe you could pass your guides to Max, but she wasn’t interested in it - hopefully, your old things were safe with the kids until they could find a new player who would benefit from them.

You had a great time during the night with the girls. You knew that Nancy cared about the kids a lot, and you wanted Max to know that while you would be away, Nancy would still be someone she could count on - that’s why all the moments you three shared mattered a lot to you. And you knew you were going to miss them.

The morning of your last day finally arrived. Steve planned a farewell party for you, which was good, as everyone was busy with their summer jobs and you didn’t see them as much as you wanted to. But that was the last time you would see Max before leaving. When the time for the goodbye came, you gave her your gift: a Walkman.

“Music always helps, no matter what you’re going through. I’ll be listening to mine, so whenever you listen to yours, we’ll be connected,” you explained when you gave it to her.

Unexpectedly, Max threw her arms around you. “You be careful,”

You hesitated just a moment before you hugged her back. “You, too,”

She still kept her arms around your neck, head on your shoulder. “I’ll be all right,” she said, clasping your face. “But I’ll miss you, for sure.”.

“I’ll miss you too, Max. You have Nancy… and you have El too. She needs her time, but I’m sure you two will be great friends, be patient; it will happen, I know it! And I love you, don’t forget that!”.

“I love you too,” said Max, not wanting to let go of you.

When you got back to the trailer park, Marc was already waiting for you. He was there to get your things to put in the car, so you could go right after the party, not needing to come back to the trailer park later. You were glad he was there to help you - your boxes were heavier than you thought.

“Need a ride for the party?” he offered after loading the car with the last box.

“I’ll go with Eddie… but I’ll see you there, right?”

“Of course.” his smile diminished a bit. “see you later, princess,” he said before driving away.

Your house suddenly felt so empty. Your father was drunk already, snoring on the couch, and didn’t pay attention when you tried to say your goodbyes. You left your house and met Eddie in your usual spot in the woods near the trailer park. Without a word, he understood how you were feeling and held your hand, guiding you to the old tire swing where you used to play when you were kids.

“I think you need a little bit of fun, m’lady,” he said while helping you get into it.

He pushed you, and you started singing silly songs as you did as a child. He laughed and started to sing along, and at that moment, the sound of your voices made you forget all the things that were worrying you. It was like being back in those simpler times.

“You know I’ll stand by you, support and love you, no matter the distance between us, right? Nothing will ever change.” He said in a choked voice. The fact that he wasn’t looking into your eyes made it a bit easier for him to speak.

“Things change, Eds… in a moment we were kids playing here.. And in a blink of an eye, a decade goes by, and here we are… with me getting ready to move to another city, having to deal with living by myself, going to college, finding a job, adapting to a whole new life…”

“All of this seems too much for only one girl.”

“Well, don’t blame me for trying. I’ll try to have courage.”

And Eddie thought it was beautiful becausem deep down, he was a man afraid of many things - and he got distracted for a moment and didn’t notice you tried to jump off the tire swing and fell to the ground.

He hurried to check if you were hurt, and the sound of your laughter echoed while he helped you get back up. The rest of the world dropped away when you took each other’s hand and looked into each other’s eyes. You felt as if you could hear the flickering of birds, water lapping, and the wind blowing, and then all at once, you couldn’t. Everything around you fell silent. It was just the two of you.

It could have been minutes or just a second; you couldn’t measure how long you stared at each other, unable to break eye contact. Eddie looked like he was about to slam you against a tree and make out to you, or maybe it was just the burning desire playing tricks with your mind. Being so close to him was torture. You were tired of pretending.

“Eddie, I have to admit… I’m scared.” you were on the verge of tears

“Just saying that makes you more brave than you imagine… but you don’t have to be scared, sweetheart.”

But you were scared about the new life ahead of you and the things you were leaving behind.

“What if I’m making the wrong decisions, Eds? What if…”

He interrupted you: “I’ll be damned if I let your insecurities win. I have never met anyone like you; if there is anyone that can conquer the world, that one is you.”

“The rest of the world may not agree with you, Eds.”

“Sweetheart, other people’s judgments are meaningless… unless you allow them to mean something. Don’t do this”.

And as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Eddie realized something - He was always fearless, not worrying about the bullies in the school, always doing as he pleased… but it was different with you. He usually got speechless and was always worried about messing up and afraid of what you could think… and that was the reason. He didn’t care about what others were thinking except for you. What you could think about him meant the world to him, the opinion that mattered.

There was a lot he wished to confess, but he struggled to let the next phrase come out of his mouth:

“You know… I’m scared too. Things are easy when you are here… but life will be hard again once you leave.”

“And what does that mean, Eds?” you paused. “Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

His heart was hitting his chest, and he hoped you couldn’t feel its ragged rhythm. He, a man who could talk to anyone, was now tongue-tied in your presence. He just couldn’t seem to control his words or his emotions, though he tried his best. Every time you were together, he held back. He wanted to be all over you but was cautious, not wanting you to see how he was burning for you.

But time passed, and he kept quiet. You felt your chest getting heavier and bit your lip to avoid the tears pooling in your eyes. You took his silence as a sign of indifference.

“We should get back,” you murmured, defeated, walking back without waiting for him.

The sadness of the cold goodbye you got from your father and the silence from Eddie faded away when you got back to the trailer park, as Wayne was waiting for you with warm eyes and a smile. Saying goodbye to him was more challenging than you thought, and you could already feel the tears pooling in your eyes, and you looked down, not knowing how to say goodbye to him.

“You should get Hopper to arrest me - leaving you and Eddie alone is practically criminal negligence; who will take care of you now?”

“Our lives won’t be the same without you here… but I think it’s important to get away from where you’ve grown up for some of your life… Go see the world, kiddo! But don’t forget you’ll always have us here whenever you want to come back.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you mumbled, pouting like a small kid.

“Keep your head up, my sweet, beautiful girl. This is just the beginning. Don’t forget this old man will always wish you all the best.”

You were never good with words, and this time you wished you were because there were so many things you wanted to tell him.

“I love you, Uncle Wayne!” You hugged him around the waist, tears streaming down your face.

“There, now. You don’t want to miss your party. Go have fun, kiddo. I love you.”. He patted your back and tried to hide that he was almost crying.

Eddie was also trying to keep his emotions under control and tried his best to distract himself by singing in the car while going to Steve’s house, knowing that was probably the last car ride you would share. He didn’t want to think of all the preparations you did - how you left him a copy of the keys to your trailer, how you let him store some of his belongings in your old room, to declutter a bit his bedroom in his trailer, how you were wearing his favorite shirt, and wearing the guitar pick necklace you gave him. He just couldn’t believe this was the day he would lose you.

When you got to Steve’s house, everyone was already there - Eddie let you go and join the others, he knew that everyone wanted to spend time with you, and he wanted to let you enjoy it. He was happy to see you all playing and having fun together.

And during all that, he gazed at you, trying to memorize everything about you. Your hair, your eyes, the clothes you were wearing, your lips, your cheeks, the color of your skin when the sun hit it, your voice, so beautiful while singing along with the boys, that smile that he loved so much.

He looked at you and wished he would never stop looking at you, but he knew it was the end. He could already imagine that the weeks would pass, maybe you would stop to write back his letters, to answer his calls, there would be that unspoken thing, the heavy silence, and you would then forget about him. So he knew he had to remember every little detail now because those were the last moments he would have the chance to see and witness them.

And you were smiling so beautifully, playing catch with the girls when you stopped and looked at him. And then you started to run to him, and without thinking, he also ran to meet you. He picked you up and spun you around, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. Being around you made him feel giddy and excited. It made his heart race, and he could not string a coherent sentence, but he was glad it didn’t bother you.

“You know that not a single day will go by that I won’t think of you, right?”

“Good!” you replied, smiling.

He could picture the whole life ahead you would have, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was holding you back. He had no idea what would happen in the future, which scared him.

“You and I are going to be okay; you know that, right?” he didn’t know if he was telling that to reassure you or to convince himself about it.

You nodded, and when your lips opened to say something, Robin grabbed your arms, making you stand in a chair to make a speech to everyone before you left. Shyness washed over you, but you did your best to mumble a few words to everyone.

“And we may have had some ups and downs,” you concluded, looking fondly at the group, “but I love every one of you. I know that I’m moving on to the next chapter of my life, but please know that I sincerely hope we can hold each other close in our hearts. I know I’m taking all this love with me wherever I go.”

“She is smart. Too smart to stay stuck here,” Steve murmured. He could feel the tears falling, and Robin, standing by his side, was surprised to see that he wasn’t trying to stop the tears.

You raised your cup, your eyes shining with tears. “Cheers, everyone. I’m so glad I met you!”

“Cheers!” They all responded in unison, tapping their cups together and wiping their eyes with broad smiles. No one was smiling brighter and crying harder than the curly hair boy in the corner.

“That’s my girl!” you heard Steve call out from the sidelines - you were thankful he was there trying to cheer you, although it made you feel the blood hot under your cheeks.

He held out his arms for you and brought you in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, little lady,” he murmured into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest.

“I know you are, big boy!”

“I’m gonna miss you so much” Nancy stole you from Steve’s arms to hug you.

“Don’t. Be. A. Stranger.” Jonathan wagged his finger in your face.

You pretended to think about it for a second. “Sorry, Jonathan. Can’t make any promises.” You patted his face giving him a confident smile.

Eddie stepped into the space Jonathan had once stood in, finding himself beside you. The indescribable urge to touch and kiss you welled in his entire being, but he attempted to keep it at bay.

“Are you gonna say goodbye? I don’t wanna hear it.” Eddie said quickly.

You shared one last hug, hiding your face in his neck. You mumbled what you knew could be your last words to him.

“I’m afraid we will forget this. I don’t wanna forget how this feels.”

He stepped back and gently cupped your face, staring into your eyes. “I won’t forget. I could never forget you… it’s hard to forget someone who gave me so much to remember.”

You were unable to speak another word, lost in those chocolate-brown eyes. You hoped that your eyes would say enough.

“shh,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “it’s okay, sweetheart.”

Your eyes locked, and your breathing quickened. A tiny spark of hope that you would kiss crossed your mind, but the sound of a door slamming snapped you out of the moment. You turned to find Marc ready and waiting for you by his car.

“Up you go,” Eddie said, in a voice he was fighting to keep steady. He leaned in close, gently, and whispered, “I’ll miss you.”

He stepped back again, you both just staring at each other awestruck. Dazzled. In his mind, he kept repeating, “I’m never gonna be okay with being apart. I’m gonna keep missing the hell out of you,“ but he couldn’t find the strength to tell you that.

One side of his mouth pulled up into your favorite uneven smile. You couldn’t catch your breath soon enough to reply and just tried to smile back. The words stuck in your throat as you saw the lost light in his eyes just before he turned and walked away.

You waved your goodbyes to the others and joined Marc, ready to start the ride. Through it all, you sat numbly in the car, tears leaking steadily from your eyes, while you left your heart, your whole life behind, heading into the unknown.

Several beer cans were spread out in the trailer’ living room, and Wayne’s heart ached when he noticed a wasted Eddie with his head on the table.

“Boy, are you ok?” he asked, knowing already the answer.

“She left. Why leave me? Why no one stays? What am I going to do now she is gone?” the intrusive thoughts were fighting their way into Eddie’s mind and were winning.

“C’mon, boy, as much as heartbroken you must be now… she must have felt the same pain when leaving; she is crazy about you.”

“All I ever wanted was to be enough for her. But I’m not. Do we get what we deserve? Because it seems that I surely don’t deserve her. Why would I? She is now going to college while I’m here, stuck repeating the senior year. I wanted to be a perfect guy and be important, but why would she want someone like me? She would never want…”

Eddie was speaking so fast, his breathing increasing as he was getting increasingly anxious, until Wayne put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Eddie. You need to see yourself as worthy of love, son, because you are.”

“I’m not; I’m just a fucked up mess.” he tried to push Wayne away, but Wayne decided not to leave Eddie’s side. “I always thought that loving someone, giving that much authority to one person was scary, but you see… that’s the easiest part. I would give my whole life to her without thinking twice - but the problem is that my life is not valuable, not enough for her, and that’s scary.”

“Being receptive to affection is one of the things that trauma steals from us, boy, and it hurts me to see this happening to you.” Wayne caressed Eddie’s hair. “I’ve already been in that moment of not accepting, or rather forgetting how to accept good things… and I can tell you that pain can put us in places that are complicated and far away from the ones we care about, and we can get lost… you don’t have to go through that.

“It’s not that easy! When I saw all those romantic movies with her, I understood why she loved them, but I never wanted to live them... I mean, can you imagine loving someone so deeply that when they leave, you crumble into pieces?” he sighed. “And here I am, feeling just like them. And I know what comes next, a pain that will engulf me so much that I won’t be able to eat, sleep or drink properly… I felt it before when we were apart, and now it will be even worse.”

“So you would rather not love her, then…”

“Loving her is the best thing that could have happened to me! But it’s the worst for her! I only mean trouble for her.”

“Life is trouble, son. You’ve got to fight for what you want.”

Eddie spent so long trying to convince himself he did the right thing but wasn’t so sure anymore. He didn’t know what to think.

“I don’t have the right to hold her life up. I can’t fight for her if that’s not what she wants. I need to respect her decisions, and she decided to go away. There’s nothing I could do.”

Eddie got up and left, not wanting to argue anymore. Wayne sighed - He knew how good for each other you were, how you always encouraged and supported each other, how you saved each other. And he could only hope that this would not be lost forever because he didn’t want to see Eddie suffering.

Eddie’s eyes drifted across his bedroom as he slowly entered. Every corner had something that reminded him of you, of the connection you two had, a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. What once was his happy place now felt empty and hollow. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw your trembling lips trying to form a smile in that farewell moment. The weight of unspoken words pressed heavily upon his heart.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, letting out a sigh, replaying the moment of your parting in his mind - you have left for college, to your new beginning, while his feelings remained locked away, unvoiced - as these emotions surged, a whirlwind of frustration and regret filled his chest - he wanted to believe it was the right thing to do, he didn’t want to hold you back from pursuing your dreams, but with every minute away from you, his doubts gnawed at his resolve.

Amid his thoughts, a sudden flicker of color caught his eye. The folded piece of paper was on the nightstand amidst the chaos of scattered textbooks and old photographs. Seeing your handwriting in “For Eddie” made him smile.

He hadn’t dared to read it when you left it for him, but he hoped that your letter would have words of comfort and would help him cope with your absence. His trembling hands reached out to retrieve it, and his heart skipped a beat as he unfolded the note.

“FUCK! SHIT, SHIT, NO!” Eddie yelled, his frustration growing into a potent mix of anger and regret, settling like a heavy fog, enveloping his senses, making him throw things around - while broken fragments stayed scattered on the floor, his tears burning their way down his cheeks.

He sank to his knees, clutching the note tightly in his hands. It was a poignant reminder of the depths of feelings and the missed opportunity to express them. With every fiber of his being, Eddie wished he could turn back time and rewrite the script of your farewell.

Instead of the heartful, lengthy letter that Eddie expected, you wrote only 4 simple words to him:

“Ask me to stay.”

💜 For all of you that are still reading this, thank you, thank you! This story is my little baby, a coping mechanism for me and writing it helps me feel better, and I can't believe that there are people that actually read it! 🥰 Your feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments make my day!

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