#is he number one employee or something…

[wishchip106]

i take iron supplements each night so i think atp magneto could just move me around like a puppet by controlling my blood

i don’t think that would feel very nice ngl

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.

Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33

Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.

Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”

Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.

[amaranthinespirit]

Hi! Request for the husband!simon and murderer!reader, your latest post mentioned we've never killed a woman.

But what if Simon comes home to another one of your killings but this time it's a barista/or just a woman who wouldn't get the hint that Simon is happily married.

husband!simon riley discovering your latest kill is the barista from his favorite coffee shop

simon has a certain coffee shop he frequents to get his morning coffee—typically when he wants to let you sleep in because he prefers you to make his coffee to him. you just have a magic touch.

the coffee shop is the next best thing, and while it's not quite as good as how his sweet wife makes it, it'll do. sometimes, on his way home, he'll stop and grab you a sweet drink and a treat—you'll need the energy for later.

but lately, he's noticed this one barista in particular that just won't get the hint he has a ring on his finger and a perfect wife at home to match it.

sure, the barista is pretty—but not to his standards. everyone pales in comparison to you. he worships the ground you walk on and kisses your feet.

every day he goes in, and she's there, she won't miss the opportunity to tighten her apron around her waist, bat her lashes while biting her thin bottom lip, and speak with a sweet voice that makes his stomach roll. (he prefers his wife in an apron—typically because she doesn't wear anything under it when he asks her).

she leaves hearts on his to-go cups that he disposes of once he transfers it to a tumbler with a kiss print on the outside from your red lipstick. she gives him her employee discount. more money to spend on equipment to dispose of your bodies, not the tip jar.

simon ignores all of this, but he also doesn't tell you. he figures you're already stressed as is and doesn't want to add a petulant and persistent twenty-something girl to the mix.

next thing he knows, she's scribbled her number on his cup, encased in a heart. he knew they had to write personal messages to increase customer connection, but this seemed a bit of a reach.

i mean, come on. 'xxx-xxx-xxxx call me x' is a little excessive.

he scowled at it, resisting the urge to squish the cup under his palm. he turned away without another word, but he did send you a picture this time before promptly throwing it away—the coffee still inside. who knew what she had done to it.

simon didn't question when you wanted to know her name. meek curiosity, he assumed, but what an incorrect assumption it was.

arriving home was always a guessing game because you don't tell him when you've lured another man to his demise. don't wanna keep records of it, simon would tell you. just in case.

every day, he'd take a guess on if you've killed or not. so far, he hasn't been wrong. maybe he can just tell whenever you're in that type of mood, but his reward is giving you the same number of orgasms as his streak. he's currently at nine.

when he pulled into the driveway, he was thinking that he would find a large body belonging to a man, too close to your rug—which he would scold you about by edging you mercilessly.

what he wasn't expecting was the body of the barista that always flirted with him, and you wielding a knife as you stared at him like it was his turn.

boy, did that make him hard.

standing there with a bloodied hand on your hip, red dripping from the knife as you waved it slowly back and forth through the air, as if taunting him. "got something to explain, si?"

his expression contorted to one of confusion, looking between you and the body before relaxing with a chuckle. "jealous, luv?" he stepped closer, pulling the knife from your hand and letting it clatter to the floor.

his rough hands found your hips, rubbing himself against your front as he trailed kisses from your jaw and down your neck. "new perfume?" he diverted.

"si. don't distract me. are you hiding something?" you tried to keep a straight face as you scolded him, but how could you? your husband was dangerously irresistible.

he chuckles again. "only tha' she's been botherin' me for t'long." his voice is gruff. "if y'didn't handle 'er, I would'v."

"oh." a frown pulls at your face. "why didn't you tell me? I would've killed her a lot sooner—"

you yelp as simon suddenly takes you over his shoulder, followed by a giggle as you struggle for a grip against his shirt. a whine of his name only earns a slap to your rear.

"c'mon, luvie, got'a get ya cleaned up." he starts in the direction of the bathroom, where he would personally scrub the blood from your body. somewhat like he had to do the first time you killed. clueless thing. "need ta stay pretty f'me, yeah?"

he'll take care of the corpse a bit later, if it meant cleaning you up personally. and delivering...ten orgasms as his reward for keeping his streak.

[kingkaisen]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄!

🍔🍟 — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: there’s one thing GOJO won’t accept, and it’s bad customer service. he’ll just have to fuck the attitude right out of the rude cashier.

🍔🍟 — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 18+ ONLY || MDNI — semi-public, unprotected & hate sex, creampie, orgasm denial, brief spanking, sweet & degrading nicknames, manhandling, dumbification, oral, fem! reader.

🍔🍟 — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3K

🍔🍟 — 𝐚/𝐧: mdni template guide by @/kithsune. the reader does NOT work at mcdonald’s. screw mcdonald’s.

When Satoru Gojo stepped through the double doors of his favorite 24-hour fast-food restaurant — the door chiming to alert any potential workers of his presence — he wasn’t greeted.

That was the first red flag.

Truth be told, he wasn’t so entitled that he would expect to be greeted whenever he entered a place where customer service was expected, as most times, the employees were too busy preparing burgers and fries or wiping off greasy tables covered in spilled soda with nothing but a wet rag and an insane amount of patience.

But, it wasn’t the lunchtime rush hour. It was 1:35 A.M., and as he approached the counter, he saw only one employee, who wasn’t doing anything at all, aside from glaring at him.

As a busy man, Satoru wasn’t one to spend his precious time standing over a hot stove.

While he could cook, and his food was edible at the very least, his busy, career-driven lifestyle as an overworked individual meant that he had to rely on convenient fast food and styrofoam cups of chicken-flavored ramen more than he was willing to admit.

And, because of that, you recognized that white-haired man instantly.

Frequent visitor.

Always came in at the worst hours imaginable.

Liked to change up his order constantly as well, making it impossible to have his food prepared before his arrival.

“You again?” Frowning at the customer, you leaned over the counter, placing your elbow on the cold, gray countertop as your chin rested in the palm of your hand. “Did anyone ever teach you how to cook?”

“Did anyone ever teach you how to have manners?” Satoru shot back, his hands in his pockets as he halted his footsteps.

Those beautiful blue eyes of his scanned the big menu board above you, searching for the perfect hour-past-midnight combo.

Truth be told, he wasn’t taking a long time to order. Not any longer than most customers take, at least. But, even so, you rhythmically tapped your nails against the counter, sighing heavily with impatience.

“Something wrong?” Satoru darted his eyes down to you — the sluggish cashier.

“Can you just hurry up and order, please? I already gotta go cook whatever you want by myself without any help, so stop wasting my time.”

Satoru laughed, and you frowned.

What exactly did that lousy bastard find so funny?

“No wonder you’re not afraid to talk to me like that. And to dress out of dress code. There’s no one around to discipline you, huh?”

“Shut up,” rising from the counter, your frown only deepened, and his smile only widened. “Even if my boss was here, he wouldn’t care. Besides, the skirt is a part of the dress code, now just hurry up and order some-”

“But it’s not supposed to be pulled up that high, is it?”

Instead of responding, you grabbed your cup off of the counter, sipping on your favorite drink through the red, plastic straw as you glared at the aggravating customer.

“Are you gonna order or not?” You eventually questioned, your eyes glistening with annoyance.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Smirking, he pulled his black wallet out of his pocket. “I’ll have the number one with a coke.”

Silently, you pressed a few buttons on the POS system computer screen in front of you.

“$20.78.”

“That’s not right,” Satoru paused. “Way too high.”

“Well, I put it in correctly, so I don’t know what you want me to do about it. Can’t afford it?”

For a moment, Satoru simply stared at you. His facial expression was impossible to read.

Suddenly, he walked away from the counter, went through the black door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, and was standing right behind you in only a handful of seconds.

“What-” Stammering, you looked back at the tall man hovering behind you, who stared the computer screen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to come back here.”

“And you’re not supposed to overcharge a customer, right?” Satoru’s body was only a few inches away from yours, close enough for you to smell him. Feel his body heat. “Let me take a look at it.”

No flippant remark was fired back. How surprising.

You couldn’t see his face once you turned to look at the white screen displaying his incorrectly rung-up order, but you could feel his cocky smirk as he pressed a few buttons on your screen.

“Here’s the problem, baby.” He said. “You rang up my order twice without realizing it. Is pressing a few buttons too difficult for you? Hm?”

Folding your arms across your chest, you refused to answer that smirking son-of-a-bitch.

“No answer? Oh, c’mon.” Suddenly, Satoru closed the space between your bodies, completely pressing himself against your backside. “You were running your mouth earlier. Why so shy now? Not so bold when there isn’t a counter separating us, are you?”

You gulped. And you gulped because that annoying customer’s hard bulge was pressed right against your ass and back, and — god — as much as you would like to slap him across the face, you found yourself slickly pushing back against him instead, just to feel it through your skirt a little more.

Your own desperation was embarrassing for you, but it couldn’t be helped. Not when he was so close.

“Oh, I see,” Reaching around you, Satoru’s large hand suddenly cupped your jaw, and he pulled your head up and to the side until you were looking at him.

“So you don’t wanna talk, you don’t wanna take my order, but you wanna try and grind yourself against me? I had a feeling you were nothing more than a little slut, and it looks like I was right.”

Before you could respond — not that you would have, as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction — Satoru leaned down a bit and smashed his lips against yours.

You sharply inhaled, gasping in shock, and he smiled against your lips before deepening the kiss.

With his large hand cupping your jaw, keeping your head in place, he shoved his tongue into your wet mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of you.

Feeling your tongue swirl around his as if you could keep up with the sloppy way he dominated your mouth was both cute and amusing to him.

He kissed you deeply like this so you would forever remember the taste of him. So you would never forget the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours.

And when he pulled away, a string of spit falling from your previously connected lips, Satoru suddenly gripped your waist from behind, lifted you a bit, and placed you across the counter.

You were lying on your stomach with your ass exposed to him, and the entire scene was exposed for any potential customer who walked in to witness.

“What the hell are you thinking?” You glanced around, double-checking that the restaurant was empty. “Someone could walk in and catch us, you idiot.”

“Think that makes it pretty exciting, doesn’t it? Maybe they’ll enjoy a show.”

He wasn’t worried. Worst case scenario, he’d have to ask his friend in the government, Suguru Geto, to work some magic for him.

Satoru ran his hands over the back of your soft thighs. Then, he fondled your ass, raising your skirt and pulling down your underwear.

He gave your ass a quick spank, laughing when you yelped a bit.

“You know what I think?” He paused, running his fingers across the glistening lips of your pussy. “I think you’re overworked, aren’t you, baby? Pretty girls like you become all bitter and angry when they have to work so much because then they have no time to get fucked properly. Isn’t that right?”

Suddenly, Satoru bit his bottom lip and shoved two of his fingers inside your aching hole.

“This pussy’s pretty tight, sweetheart. Seems like I was right.” Pumping his long fingers in and out of you at a steady, quick pace, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure you get a good fucking.”

Muffled moans and the sound of cars speeding down the road in the distance filled the silence. Satoru, however, didn’t appreciate your attempts at quieting the beautiful noises he was eliciting from you.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Satoru ordered.

You removed your hand, which was previously covering your mouth. Placing both arms behind your back, Satoru held on tightly to your wrists with one hand and continued to curl his fingers up inside of your pussy with the other.

“There we go,” he said with a teasing tone. “I’ve had to listen to you run your mouth. Now let me hear you moan.”

“Oh my god,” you breathlessly moaned. “Shit . . .”

He was right. It had been far too long since anyone had touched you, and even then, it wasn’t as pleasurable as it was right now.

He moved his fingers with great skill. As you arrived closer and closer to your approaching orgasm — made obvious by the way you started to squirm — Satoru pumped his fingers faster and faster.

Just when you were about cum, he yanked them out of your clenching hole.

“Why-Why’d you stop?” You groaned in frustration. “Keep going.”

“No. I don’t want you cumming on my fingers. I want you to cum in my mouth.” With a smirk — although you couldn’t see his face — Satoru raised his fingers to his lips and licked them, sampling a taste of what he would soon devour.

“You’re an asshole,” you swore. Satoru only laughed in response.

He then got down on his knees, getting in the perfect position to eat you out from behind, releasing your wrists so he could use both of his hands to spread your pussy lips apart. “You ready? Don’t hold back, okay?”

Feeling Satoru’s tongue against your clit resulted in a gasp of shock erupting from your throat, followed by a lengthy moan.

He didn’t eat you out like a gentleman, either.

He licked, sucked, and slurped at you like a starving man.

He swirled his tongue around your clit, pausing only to suck on it. He pushed his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.

Your combined moans were a beautiful sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. His moans in particular added a bit of vibration as he ate your pussy.

Satoru gripped your ass cheeks with his hands, massaging them. The sheer force of his lips and tongue working against your sensitive pussy made your body rock back and forth across the counter.

Damn him.

“Ah!” You moaned sharply. “Oh my – oh my god . . .”

The pleasure was indescribable.

He knew exactly how to work his tongue, and the magic that came with having your clit licked at and sucked on had you squirming your arms around, gripping the edge of the counter, trying to find anything to hold on to.

You accidentally knocked your drink off of the counter and onto the floor. It splattered, ice and soda spilling everywhere, but at the same time, your cum was starting to spill onto Satoru’s tongue.

That was all that mattered.

He smacked your ass once again as he felt you start to flood his mouth.

God, you tasted amazing. Better than the food he originally came into the fast-food restaurant to eat.

If he could, he would have eaten you out over and over again. Made you cum onto his tongue over and over again. One orgasm for every customer you mistreated.

But he was in a hurry, truthfully not wanting to push his luck when it came to having privacy.

And, at this point, his clothed dick was painfully hard.

Satoru rose to his feet.

Suddenly, he grabbed your waist and flipped you over, your back against the counter this time.

Leaning over slightly, he placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing them. It was undoubtedly his favorite body part of yours.

His eyes darted down to the red framed name tag above your right breast.

“Y/N, huh? Cute name.”

Satoru unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down.

Lining the tip of his lengthy cock up with your hole, he said, “it’s nice to officially meet you. My name’s Satoru. Make sure you moan it for me, okay?”

Satoru started to fill you up perfectly. His rhythmic thrusts, quick, yet steady pace — it all made beautiful moans flutter from between your lips without a second thought.

You were no longer worried about getting caught. With every thrust, you found yourself unable to focus on anything that wasn’t related to being fucked by your annoying customer.

“Ah, Satoru,” you moaned and whimpered.

He gripped your hips, his blue eyes flickering between your pretty, fucked out face and your bouncing boobs.

He increased his speed — god, he wanted to cum so badly. Desperately.

His desire to fill you up resulted in him holding onto the plush of your hips a bit tighter, slamming in and out of you a bit faster.

Skin slapped against skin. His balls bounced off of your ass.

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, baby. Just lie there and take it for me. Take it.”

He leaned over. His mouth hovered above your ear, thrusts never slowing, and he whispered, “my pretty girl can’t think about anything other than this dick, hm? All you know how to do is cum and moan, is that right?”

With a low moan of his own, Satoru slowly licked your left ear. Removing one of his hands from your hips, he gripped your right tit, slowly gliding his thumb over your hard, clothed nipple. Those perfect lips of his detached from your ear only to trail wet kisses down your neck. His index finger flicked at your nipple rapidly.

“Shit, I can’t wait to cum inside of you.” Satoru hooked his hand under your knee, pushing your leg back towards your chest, which made you feel his cock even deeper than before.

“Satoru . . . gonna cum again,” your pathetic warning was followed by a whine.

“Ah . . .” Beads of sweat pooled across Satoru’s forehead. “So close, I’m so close, baby. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-”

Your tight pussy was milking his cock like you were both put on this earth for the sole purpose of fucking one another.

With a loud moan, Satoru’s steady thrusts staggered in rhythm, and he shot his big load inside of you. Never had he come so much — he was almost embarrassed by it, stuffing your hole so sinfully.

But then, your pussy clenched around him, and your second orgasm crashed upon you like an enormous wave, overwhelming your senses until you couldn’t do anything except moan, cum, and feel Satoru’s dick throb and spurt out his semen inside of you.

You were both breathless. Happily fucked out.

But as Satoru pulled you off of the counter, the lustful gaze within his blue eyes told you that he wasn’t finished with you yet.

“Get on your knees.”

How obedient you were, following his orders by dropping down on the black and white tiled floor. He could hardly believe you were the same woman who had the nerve to be snappy with him earlier. The same woman who purposely wouldn’t give condiments to annoying restaurant regulars.

When you opened your mouth without him telling you to, looking up at him with pleading eyes, his cock throbbed painfully.

“You’re such a good girl,” Satoru grinned, pumping his cock with his fist.

“Hurry,” you whined impatiently.

Satoru gripped the back of your head. He shoved his dick in your mouth.

Instantly, he started to thrust his dick down your throat, bucking his hips yet again as he had done several times throughout the night.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long,” he spoke sarcastically and breathlessly, tossing his head back. “I know how many times you’ve kept me waiting for my orders as a customer. Doesn’t feel so good, does it, sweetheart? To be kept waiting?”

With a moan, Satoru gripped your hair even tighter than before. Your warm and wet mouth was working wonders on his dick. He already dreaded the moment in which he’d have to stop face fucking you.

“Your mouth feels so good,” he closed his eyes in pure bliss. “I’m gonna cum again already.”

Spit dribbled out from the sides of your mouth. Your hands held onto his thighs. The big vein on the underside of his cock throbbed against your tongue as he moaned louder, thrusts growing sloppy.

His sweet and warm cum flooded your mouth.

“Swallow it. Fucking swallow it, baby. There you go.” Breathing unevenly as he came, he held your head still, not daring to take his cock out of your mouth until you swallowed every last drop. “That mouth was meant for swallowing my cum, not talking back to me. You understand me?”

You hummed around his cock in response. The vibrating sensation made his dick twitch, spurting out the last bit of his cum down your throat.

Satoru removed his dick from your mouth, but he only gave you a second to breathe, because suddenly, he leaned down and he replaced his cock with his tongue.

Still gripping your hair, he kissed you sloppily — filthily — creating a mixture of your combined spit and the remnants of his cum you hadn’t yet completely swallowed. The customer moaned just to show you how much he was enjoying the taste of your mouth. How he cherished the mess you were both making.

Eventually, Satoru pulled his tongue out of your mouth, ending the kiss with a quick bite at your bottom lip.

Like a gentleman, he helped you off of the floor.

You both started to put back on your removed clothing items or straighten out what had gotten disheveled.

“Are you still hungry?” You asked rather shyly, running your hands down your skirt, smoothing it out.

With a small laugh, Satoru said, “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot about the food.”

You washed up with low-quality soap and water as best as you could. The raggedy soap dispensers could surely use an upgrade.

Then, you made your way into the kitchen, preparing Satoru’s order as he waited patiently.

You gave him his hot bag of food with a soft smile.

Opening it, he saw plenty of napkins and condiments.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Grabbing the bag and his drink, he winked at you before he started walking away from the very counter he just finished fucking you across. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Okay,” your sad mumble — which was from the fact that he was leaving already — had quickly changed as you started to realize something. “Wait! You forgot to pay!”

Satoru wholeheartedly ignored you. Stepping through the exit doors, which dinged as he opened them, he left the fast-food restaurant and got into his car. Pulling out his phone, the man set a reminder to wipe tonight’s surveillance camera footage in the morning.

It was rather fortunate that he owned the restaurant.

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

[superhoeva]

awkward!simon/pharmacy au part two | part one

"i never got to thank you for your help."

simon jumps out of his lean against the side of the building, cursing under his breath when the cigarette tucked between his fingers falls dumbly to the ground. gulping, he glances at you before averting his stare to settle somewhere on your cheek.

not your eyes, but close enough.

"s'not a problem," he nods slowly, mind blanking on what else he could say. he catches how you shift, unsure of what to do with the silence he's forced to let linger. biting the inside of his lip, simon clears his throat. "'uh, yeah. glad i could help."

you give him a small, bashful smile in return of his words and the man nearly stops breathing. he feels his face flushing once again, and he's lucky you're nice enough to not say anything about it.

more silence. you and simon squirm when you accidentally make eye contact before quickly looking away to the nearest anything. his stare lands on the bag in your grasp, filled with those damn pills and the few other items he saw you pluck from the shelves when you'd caught his eye at least ten minutes before reluctantly asking him for help.

the nerve's rattling simon soon grate into a prickly annoyance. god, you having to waste your money on something like that for someone that simon's certain is sticking it in someone else is nipping away at his sense. chest puffing as he takes in a sigh, his index finger scratches a random spot as the back of his head as he grumbles.

"wish there was somethin' i could do t' help. gorgeous thing like you shouldn't suffer over some bloke like that..."

gorgeous. did he just say gorgeous? he must've based on the gobsmacked fucking look on your face.

shit. he's fucked–and not just because his insides flutter at how wide your eyes are and how satisfying your lips look when they're parted in surprise.

simon blinks at you, eyes reading of horror and a hint of panic. when you open your mouth to sputter out a reply, the man turns and makes a b-line for the side door of the pharmacy that's a few feet away.

employees only is plastered across it and you need to know the code to press on the keypad to unlock it and get in, so there's no way you can follow after him and his red cheeks. great.

what's not so great is how foolishly simon's fingers mash into the buttons as he attempts to escape. it takes two times of the buzzer letting him know he's wrong before he can finally think slowly enough to remember the correct order of the four numbers.

simon sends you one last breathless glance and already knows that the dumbfounded look still plastered across your face–the look that has all his blood rushing downward–is going to haunt him for the rest of the day. he slips back into the pharmacy's supply room, the door clanging loudly behind him.

the man collapses back-first against the metal with a huff, one of his hands reaching to wipe at his eyes.

nice. you think he's nice?

"fuck," he whispers thickly to himself, glancing down and grunting at just how noticeable his bulge is becoming as his mind floods with the thought of you; your lips. your watery eyes. your sweet words. all of you. squeezing at his cock through his pants, he hisses at the throb it generates.

glancing at a nearby clock, simon's thinks. whether the six minutes he has before john will probably come looking for him are enough or not, simon couldn't care less.

he doesn't even bother unzipping his pants, slinking a hand into his waistband with little shame. his eyes roll at the way his palm slicks right over his head, and simon grinds into the feeling with a pleased huff.

good thing he skipped wearing underwear today. and thank fuck he threw on his darker jeans.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[irisintheafterglow]

do you ever think about university!satoru who keeps checking out new books every week as an excuse to talk to the cute front desk employee?

he makes a bet one day with suguru that he can get a date with you faster than suguru can get a date with the rec center attendant. quantity over quality interactions would win him the bet, so he makes it his mission to simply see you as much as possible. but he can't hold up the line, right? so instead of leaning over the desk and chatting you up with a charming smile, he checks out new books every week just to see you and show his face, snagging little pieces of information about you as time goes on. he searches up corny jokes and puns to make you smile while you're scanning his school id, and he lives for the times he makes you laugh even in the brief interactions he has to plan out in his head (to not waste any time, obviously).

you start to ask him about himself, like if he also worked, if he was taking any difficult classes, and finally his major...to which his response is bioengineering. your eyes widen and you blink a few times, like he'd said something incorrect.

is something wrong?

not at all, you chuckle. i just thought your major would be undeclared considering the variety of stuff you check out.

variety? his eyebrows furrow and you turn the laptop monitor so that he can read what he'd been checking out for the past few weeks. he gapes dumbly at the screen, completely unaware that he'd left such an incriminatingly stupid paper trail. the truth was, he'd just been grabbing a book off a random shelf and checking it out, not bothering to see what it was. so, he could imagine your surprise when he checks out in succession:

a summary of the most important technological advancements during the qing dynasty,

a comprehensive guide to teaching physics (in german, of all things),

a periodical compilation of women's fashion from 1983,

and a bilingual translation of the communist manifesto.

i have...interesting taste? you burst out laughing harder than he'd ever made you laugh before and cover your face with your hands. what's so funny?

nothing, nothing, you insist. it's just, if you wanted my number, you could've just asked, you know?

would you have given it to me?

maybe, if you came in with a good book report the next week. you shrug innocently before handing him his newest loan: the financial workings of central american countries. before he can respond, you wave over the next student and he's shelved until next week.

when he approaches you again, he's holding his item with less bravado than previous weeks. your smile is teasing and he barely says a word, only placing the item gently on the front desk. he sheepishly slides over the book and you notice the post-it with his phone number on it before you notice the title.

"flirting for dummies."

[georgeplease]

The One Where We Have to Fuck or Die

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Fred gives Reader his test vial of a new love potion for the store. They quickly realize if they don’t have sex then it’ll kill her.

Tags: Porn Logic, Aphrodisiac, fucking like rabbits, both reader and Fred are in their late 20s-early 30s

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

It started as a normal Saturday for (Y/n). She had slept in, made some breakfast, cleaned her flat, and had been getting ready to relax for the rest of the day. That was until a familiar owl had found its way to her window, dropping off a letter with her name scrawled across the front. The handwriting was all too familiar, making her roll her eyes as she retrieved it from the owl before sending him on his way.

Having met the twins in her first year at Hogwarts was a pivotal moment, developing a fast friendship with the both of them after a prank gone wrong. That fateful afternoon sparked a 12 year long friendship between the twins and her.

Yet, there was always something between her and Fred, others may say they were destined together, they chose to believe they were just really good friends. It’s part of the reason he could send a letter like this, asking for her to rush down to his shop and help him. As annoyed as she would act, she would always rush to his side.

It didn’t take long for her to get dressed and make her way to Diagon Alley, easily finding her way through the busy street to her favorite store. As (Y/n) entered the shop she turned waving to George as she passed through toward the back. The store was as crowded as it usually was for a weekend, causing her to weave through several other customers before she was able to each the employees only section. The letter she had received from Fred to come to the store said it was an urgent matter, but having known him long enough, she was positive he was lying. But yet, here she was.

Not wasting anytime, she pushed into his office, seeing him sat at his desk, feet resting as he smirked upon seeing her enter.

“Well, if it isn’t my most loyal test subject.”

“What is it now, Fred?” She asked, crossing her arms, clearly not assumed by his mood.

Standing up, Fred walked around his desk, handing her a glittery pink vial, causing her to raise an eyebrow as she grabbed it from him. Looking at it, it was clear what it was supposed to be, having seen many of the Twin’s famous love potions before.

“A love potion? Don’t you already have several different kinds?” She asked, curious as to where this was leading.

“Not just any love potion, this is specifically for our older couples. You know, to help them spicy up their lives.”

“Like Viagra?”

Fred raised an eyebrow, not understanding what that was. He quickly shrugged it off, turning back to his sales pitch. “No, no. This is better than any muggle product.” Moving behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the number one reason most people get divorced?” He gave a second for her to think before answering for her. “That’s right, lack of passion. Imagine how many people we could help if we sold passion in a vial. How ‘bout that?”

“Work on your sales pitch, but I do like the idea.” placing a hand in her chin, she observed the vial closely. “I figure you want me to test it?“ Looking over her shoulder she sees Fred nod. “Have you tested it on anything else?”

“Tested a few drops on some plants, didn’t kill them so it should be fine for human consumption.”

“That sounds promising.” She teased, sliding away from his grasp. “What’s in it for me?”

“Besides being so horny there’s no way you won’t have an amazing orgasm once you go home?” He teased, before continuing his pitch. “Usual price, 50 galleons and unlimited supplies if you so need it.”

Fred stuck his hand out, waiting to see if she’d take his offer. After pondering for a few seconds, she reached out with her free hand shaking it. A deal with the devil, some would say.

Uncorking the vial, she pressed it to her lips, swallowing the liquid. Luckily, he had been able to get it to taste more pleasant than his other attempts, reminding her of fresh strawberries with cream. Her eyes moved to look at the ceiling, waiting for the desired effects to happen. Awkwardly she began to look around the room to pass the time, feeling a little weird to test this kind of potion in front of her friend, but money is money. And she trusted that Fred would not kill her.

As she took a look behind him, her attention was drawn to his work station. Her eyes were drawn to the ingredients he had used, haphazardly tossed about. There were the components to making a love potion, a rather simple potion. No, what caught her eye was the other ingredients he had mixed, a good amount well known aphrodisiacs along with an odd collection of ingredients that have her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Walking over, she got a better look at them, understanding why she felt so uneasy. Mixing these ingredients together are well known for causing the person who took the potion to die if certain conditions weren’t met.

Wide eyed, she snapped to look at Fred, her body feeling warm as she felt it begins to take effect. He seems none the wiser to his fatal error, his arrogant smirk pissing her off. Throwing the empty vial at him, she turned on her heel to face him.

“You fucking moron.” She spat, panic raising in her voice, her legs subconsciously clenching together as that heat began to grow between her legs. “You didn’t make a better love potion, you made an aphrodisiac with poison.”

Fred’s face contorted, not understanding why she seemed so ticked off. His brows pushed together, as he walked over to her, trying to better understand the situation, while also a little ticked off she had thrown the small vial at him. He began to watch her more closely than before, thinking that something about his potion had caused her reaction.

Trying her best not to act on the deep ache, she moved farther from Fred. The feeling was almost too much, her hand subconsciously moving toward her crotch, wanting to swirl circles to dull the ache. Instead, her other hand moved to hold the other one, interlocking her fingers together behind her back.

“What are you on about?” Fred asked as he moved closer.

“Fred, this potion is going to kill me. How fucking dense are you?” (Y/n) ran a hand through her hair, tugging at it to try and regain her focus as her thoughts grew more perverse.

“You’ve gone mental. Don’t tell me you never been horny before, love?” Fred teased, watching the way her face flushed like a virgin.

“I’m being serious.” She said, fanning herself as she felt her body warm up. “You’ve basically just signed my death warrant if I don’t get shagged as soon as possible.”

“So you’re saying, you need dick not to die?” He laughed, almost not taking her seriously.

“Shut up.” She spat, moving away from him as he moved closer.

“Have you gone sick in the brain?” He asks, reaching to take her temperature, which she skillfully dodged. “Honestly, woman, if you wanted me that badly you didn’t need to make up such an insane lie.”

“Fred, fucking listen to me.” She said, stepping forward and grabbing his face to look at his ingredients. “Think real hard about what these ingredients do. I know potions wasn’t your strong suit, but fucking think.”

As Fred surveyed the ingredients, he tried his best to recall his potions class. As his mind ran through all the things Snape had said, he came to the same horrifying conclusion she had come to moments ago. His head whipped around, noticing how want she looked, her eyes struggling to stay locked on his face, and the way her legs shook as they clenched together.

“Oh, I fucked up.” He mumbled, his brain racing as he tried to think of an antidote. Fred bolted from his spot, looking at what ingredients he had left. His mind was racing trying to figure out how to make an antidote before his potion killed her.

Her eyes watched him, panic rising through her body as she felt how the heat began to rise within. The potion Fred had brewed was a lot more fast acting than she was expecting. Even though her brain was being quickly consumed with impure thoughts, she began calculating how much time she had before it would inevitably kill her, but her thoughts kept getting interrupted.

Her eyes trailed down his body, wanting nothing more than to pull his trousers down and go wild with him. It felt insane, she had known him since they were teens and they had never once come close to hooking up, despite all the rumors that had swirled saying otherwise. Speaking of rumors, her mind couldn’t help but focus on the rumors of how good Fred was in bed, remembering how they spoke so highly of his ability. How the girls he did hook up with swore he was the best fuck they had ever had.

Letting out a drawn out whine, she stomped her foot, closing her eyes tight as she tried to fight back from thinking of him like that. It felt so shameful, like she was no better than a common pervert to think that way about Fred. Shaking her head, she used all her brain power to push the impure thoughts out, which she was successfully able to do.

Given the large amounts of aphrodisiacs he had mixed in, she figured they had less than 30 minutes before the effects became irreversible. No matter how fast her and Fred worked, she would still be dead before he figured the correct concoction. The only solution was that they had to have sex now. Eyes widening, she felt a new emotion besides instensely building lust, dread.

“We don’t have fucking time,” she cursed, her breathing becoming more labored as she tried to speak, “we have to do it.”

“It?!”

“It!!!” She shot back, already moving to throw her shirt off her body, exposing him to the way her chest heaved.

Fred nearly had a heart attack seeing her chest. It wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything, he had seen his fair share of tits, but this was his best friend. His insanely hot best friend he has had a massive thing for for years now, but still his best friend. His best friends who was surprisingly good at removing her clothes as fast as she can, most of her clothes now thrown about his office. His best friend who looked as if she was going to jump him any second now.

“We don’t have time for you to guess who to brew the antidote, unless you’d rather I die than fuck me.” Her voice was strained, trying hard to focus on her words than succumbing to the lust.

Fred didn’t respond immediately, causing her to look at him, worried he might just let her die rather than fuck her. Most of her clothes were already thrown around the room, she felt way too exposed for a serious moment like this. Raising her eyebrows, she shot him a concerned look, silently pleading that he wouldn’t just let her suffer for his mistake. It seemed to have knocked some sense into Fred, who quickly responded.

“Right,” he stuttered out, “you’re right.” He quickly said, beginning to unbutton his shirt, his mind racing with a million thoughts. “I am so bloody sorry, (Y/n).”

“Shut up, if you get all sad and shit it’ll be difficult for you to get hard.” She replied, trying her best to seem cold and calculated. Her thoughts were only occupied on getting this done as soon as possible, no need for feelings. “You can think of ways to make this up to me after I’m no longer dying.”

“Wait,” Fred said, making (Y/n) stop in her tracks, “let me just…” he reached over, pushing her close to him before apperating them both into the apartment above the store, right in his room. “This will be better.”

The environment from his office to his room was definitely better, no longer could they hear the muffled sounds of customers from within the store. Fred’s room was messy, clearly he hadn’t assumed this would be how his day would be going. As he threw his clothes onto the floor where the rest of his laundry seemed to end up, he tried to think of sexy thoughts to get himself aroused. But looking back at his friend, who was giving him the most fuckable bedroom eyes he had ever seen did the trick.

(Y/n) ripped off her underwear, tossing them into the room before laying on the bed, crawling backwards as she let out a shaky moan, her mind unable to fight off the lustful thoughts anymore. Her hand reached between her legs, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but only making her more needy. Some part of her felt humiliated, to be reduced this easily from a potion, no longer able to spit out any kind of insult at him as she stared up at him. All she was able to do was speak directly from her lust, not able to cover it up with any kind of quick witted reply as she normally would.

“Fuck,” she shakily moaned, her eyes then locking onto Fred’s, “need you. Badly.”

Now, here’s how Fred’s usual hook ups turn out. He charms them into his bed and then shows them how it’s done. Never in his life had he ever been lost for words, yet a situation like this rarely occurs. So you must forgive him for not knowing what to do watching his best friend of over ten years touch herself and talk to him like that.

Fred made his way to the bed, sliding in between her parted thighs. He felt like a total prat for even struggling to take control of the situation and fuck her. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Fred steadied himself, reaching down to stroke himself a few times. His cock stood tall and proud, making her clench in need as she looked down.

As he lined himself up with her entrance, he found the situation awkward given their history. She deserved better than a standard fuck, a little romance and, though he hates to say it, a little passion. Looking down at her, his hair falling perfectly over his face, he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

(Y/n) looked at him incredulously, already completely naked in front of him. The rational part of her brain wanted to tell him no, to keep their feelings out of this and just do what they have to to keep her from an early grave. But god, did she want to kiss him. To not feel like this decision is inevitably going to ruin your friendship.

She quickly nodded her head, her lust answering for her as she shot forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.

It should’ve been awkward, like kissing a sibling. They both should’ve hated the kiss, but instead it was electrifying. Their mouths melded perfectly together, as if they were meant to be.

As they made out, Fred got to work, rubbing the tip of his cock against her cunt, trying to coat it in her slick before he slid in. His eyes almost rolled back when he felt just got wet she already was, groaning into her mouth as his hips subconsciously pushed forward. (Y/n) whined against his mouth, her eyes screwing up as the tip of his cock bumped into her inflamed clit, mumbling out his name.

It was all too much, her body felt on fire as she began to beg him to fuck her, tears welling as the potion came to a head. Her head was swimming with lust as she felt his length press against her.

Fred began to push in, trying to go as slow as possible. God, it felt way too good to be true, as if she was meant for him the way she perfectly sucked him in. As he pulled back from the kiss, he couldn’t help but watch the way he stretched her open.

“You feel s’good,” Fred groaned as he was fully sheathed in her.

“Fred-,” her voice called out, the air from her lungs having been knocked out from the feeling. Her nails were digging into his back as she felt him bottom out, his words almost too much to hear at the same time. “Move. Move now, need it,” it would’ve sound like her usually bossy tone if it wasn’t as whiney as it had been.

His hips moved back, almost agonizingly slow before snapping forward with enough force to move her up the bed. She couldn’t tell if it was the potion or if Fred was actually this good in bed, but it was driving her crazy how good she felt. A part of her feared she may be ruined for life, that nobody else would ever make her feel this good ever again. Not that she’d ever admit that to him, his ego already too inflated for his own good.

“Need me that bad that you’ll beg for it?” He smugly spoke, his hips snapping forward to accentuate his point. “Need me to fuck you nice and hard?” He teased, clearly not feeling as awkward as he once did.

Reaching out, his finger masterfully found its way to her clit, swirling around it. (Y/n) threw her head back, loudly whining as she ground against him. Her hands went to cover her face, embarrassed that she knew the potion wasn’t entirely to blame for how horny she felt in this moment. That fucking her best friend was better than any rumor she had ever heard.

“Come on, tell me how good you feel, (Y/n).”

God, did she want to smack him upside his smug head, to wipe that grin off the cocky bastards face. But she couldn’t hide the way his words made her feel, how he cunt clenched tightly around him each time he spoke. Bringing her arm over her face, she attempted to hide from him, too flustered by his dirty talk. Nobody had ever talked to her like this and she definitely didn’t expect Fred would be the one to do so.

His hips started to slow, causing her eyes to snap open. Panic began to rise in her chest, both sides of her brain not wanting this to stop. It was a bluff, he felt way too good to stop. And he didn’t want her to die either.

“Need you to tell me how bad you want this cock.”

Exasperated by his sudden need to hear her, she let her lust driven brain speak freely. Throwing her head back, she didn’t even filter her thoughts out.

“Please fuck me, need to feel you fill me up. Feels so fucking good, Fred.” Her hips attempted to grind up against his, but felt his hand hold her down. “Wanted this, wanted to feel you stretch me out for so long.”

“You’re so bloody perfect.” Fred’s his snapped back into hers, a new sense of vigor taking over as he pounded into her. “Gonna make this pussy mine.”

His eyes met hers and for the first time they saw each other since this whole mess started. She stared up at him with her pupils blown out in lust, but with so much trust in him.

His hips stuttered as he felt unbelievably close, his mouth opening as his eyes shut, letting out a groan. “Oh, fuck. Feels so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

As he spoke, her hips began to rise, grinding against his groin as she met his thrusts. The deep need to release filling her mind to the brim. Her head moved to look at the clock on the wall, but Fred’s hand moved to stop her from looking.

“Focus on me,” he spoke, his voice deep as his hips began to hammer into her harder, “just focus on me.”

Looking into his eyes, seeing how he looked at her for the first time was eye opening. All the love and adoration he felt for her as his hips continued to pound into her made her legs lock around him, keeping him in place. Throwing her head back, her vision turned white, her voice cracking from the intensity she felt as her body tensed up around him, finally releasing.

And Fred was right, this was one of the best orgasms of her life. Mind shattering, earth breaking, pure bliss from such a tiny vial of poison.

His hips began to slow as she clenched around him, sucking him deep. Feeling him twitch inside her as he shot his load into her, his hips pressing firmly against hers as he released his seed. Her eyes clenched shut and her nails dug into his shoulder blades, hard enough to leave marks.

Unexpectedly, he leaned down, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips, his hips still pressed firmly against her. (Y/n)’s hands flew to his hair, tangling into his ginger locks as she kissed back, riding out their climaxes together.

Once the emotions came down, he rested his forehead against hers, savoring the remaining moments before he had to pull away. Looking back down, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then pulling out, apologizing as he saw her wince at the feeling.

As Fred pulled out, (Y/n) felt her body begin to feel normal again, no longer under the control of the potion. Between the mix of sweat and the feeling of his cum leaking out of her, she felt that her thoughts were finally hers, no longer clouded by lust. Looking over, she saw Fred running a hand through his hair, seeing him in entirely new light than before. And suddenly everything made sense to her.

All those failed dates, countless nights spent wondering why nobody ever made her feel like this. It all clicked into place in her mind.

They were both laid in Fred’s bed, staring at the ceiling, coming to terms with everything they just did. No longer with the looming threat of death, it gave them a moment to reflect on what this meant for them. It was clear that they could not ignore this and move on from it, not when they both felt the same.

Fred makes the first move, moving closer to her, doing that thing where he pokes at her head when she’s over thinking. He gets one of those smiles that just lights up the room before he speaks to her.

“Soooo… round two?” Fred half heartedly joked.

Her hands reach to grab her pillow and push it into his face, softly smothering him. She playful pulled away from his embrace, needing to run to the bathroom to clean the mess.

“Shut up, I need to get cleaned up.” She spoke, trying to sound irritated but the smile on her face betrayed her.

He playfully reached out, missing her warmth next to him as she searched the room for something to cover herself with.

“Hopefully that afternoon crowd will keep George busy, because I’m not done with you.” Fred yells after her, laughing at her embarrassment as she wrapped a blanket around her and ran down the hall to his bathroom. “I have years to make up for not doing this.”

“Yeah, you can think of ways to make up for nearly killing me while your waiting.”

Tag list: @lowdownlolo @samsamsantos @clpritchett @almostpurplelady @wwmalufa @artzygurl @shininjjongg @hellohelohelo @multi-fandom-imagine @hehehhe1d @novausstuff @h-0-error @tatumrileyslover @marauderslover18 @renaholicss @vyxz-00 @lunacurlclaw @buendiabebeta @theacreativity @lousypotatoes @starziux @erika5373919882920 @rotravelsblog @stupidfer @liviacarol88-blog @calablack @aki-ham @elizabethblood9 @itsaperiwinkleworldv2 @reenfluffmarshmallow @liviacarol88-blog @

[myricall]

Bllk boyfriend headcanons<3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Boyfriend! Isagi who would never miss out the chance of giving you one of his jersey's to wear. He would never admit it but the way he felt seeing his name on your back, his number. Truly made him feel like you were his (ofc you always saw the he blushed when you wore them tho<3)

...

"Yoichi..? Are you okay?" you smile softly whilst laying on your stomach on his bed. He'd make sure to always have time every day to hang out.

Your boyfriend stood there in the doorway in some sort of gaze. God he loved the way his name was splayed out across your back.

His cheeks heated up.

"y-yeah.. Just thinking about something" he mumbled back, shutting the door behind him.

"why don't you come think about it on the bed with me?"

He couldn't resist you...

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Bachira that constantly peppers your face with kisses and cannot keep his hands off of you! You're sitting alone on his bed? Cuddles! Walking with him? You bet he's holding your hand. Just be prepared to be bombarded with physical touch.

... 

"Meg- that tickles" your sweet voice cuts through, trying to hide your neck as Bachira covers your shoulders with quick little kisses.

How could he resist!

You wore that strappy top that revealed your perfect skin. You tasted so sweet he could just eat you up for the rest of his life.

"just a few more!- peck, missed you today"

"-we only haven't seen each other for a few hours!"

"I know- too long. Now stay still"

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Rin that acts nonchalant when out in public but acts all soft when just with you. He may not act like it all the time but trust when I say this man is head over heels for you and he'll definitely show it when jealous... He makes sure to let everyone know you're his after<3

... 

Today was one of the rare days that Rin was free from all the training that he did.

"Rin! Isn't this shirt so cute?" You pulled out another shirt from the rack, showing it to your boyfriend who already had a handful of bags stacking up on his arms.

"Don't you already have one like that?" He muttered, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

"you just don't get it" huffing as you check out the shirt more.

Rin sighed, looking around the store before his eyes caught onto something. More like.. Someone.

Was that employee looking at you?

Eurgh. Not on his watch.

At an instant, he linked your arm with his, taking the shirt from your hands.

"We're going"

"But the shirt-"

"We'll buy it- let's go"

You left the store with a new shirt and a much more clingy Rin on your hands.

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Nagi who acts needy and helpless whenever you are near him. Everything suddenly becomes a hassle that requires your help. He swears that without you sitting in his lap, he'd lose at every single videogame.

... 

"Just one more game pretty" Nagi held you tighter in his grip making sure you were secure.

"You said that last match.. And the one before that.."

"Yeah but I'm on a win streak.. Please, you're my good luck charm" he huffed, keeping you in place as his thumbs tapped on his phone.

You shuffled in his lap, figuring you should at least get comfortable. You're gonna be here for a while...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~work of @myricall (help i need more ideas </3)

[eightmakesonebraincell]

and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky

genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 39.7k

c/w: slow burn in reverse, work/life burnout, heavy medical themes (death, cancer) and mentions of medical procedures (medication, needles, chemotherapy, surgery), grief and crying, brief mentions of self-harm (hitting, pinching), mental breakdowns, workplace misogyny and nepotism, profanity, kissing, non-sexual nudity, m x m interactions

synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.

a/n: please read the tags carefully as this is probably my heaviest fic in terms of the themes and struggles being explored. mandatory shoutout @sorryimananti-romantic for putting up with my snail-pace writing speed the last five months :)

nobody talks about how ironic it feels to work in the hospital during the holidays, particularly christmas.

in any other establishment that is open, be it a restaurant, cafe, retail store or convenience mart, employees are greeted kindly with festive cheer–warm wishes and sincere smiles from one stranger to another. but nobody walks into the hospital on christmas with laughter and gratitude for the assistance of the doctors and nurses, because nobody wants to be at the hospital.

nobody plans to spend the day there, either.

where white embodies the nature of christmas itself–joy, celebration, festivity, snow–it changes the moment you step through the sliding glass doors of the hospital’s entrance. white is the sterile and detached appearance of the tiled floors and coated walls. it is the bedsheets and linen of the ward beds which fall short of mimicking home. it is the authoritative coats of the doctors who are the arbiters between life and death; the very same coat that jongho currently wears over his scrubs.

you are reminded of this dystopian juxtaposition as you and five others gather around your phone from the brightness of the cosy living room in your shared apartment, talking to jongho over facetime while he hides in a storage room for five minutes of respite.

in the background of your video, the fairy lights blink rhythmically on the christmas tree and reflect off the glossy wrappers of the presents placed underneath its bottom branches. behind jongho, there are shelves of medication that you can recognise as the anaesthetics and anticoagulants solely from the colours of their labels, even in the hazy darkness of the storage room.

“you won’t fucking believe the number of grannies i’ve had to explain to today that no, they cannot go home for christmas because they literally just came out of open-heart surgery ten hours ago,” jongho rubs his temples.

yeosang laughs quietly from beside you, amusement poorly concealed behind his hands. you fondly admonish him with a light slap to his thigh but cannot deny the smile that tugs at your lips too.

rushing in for damage control, seonghwa asks, “how’s mingi?”

“tired as fuuuck,” jongho snickers whilst dragging out his words smugly, as if his own eye bags do not reach the middle of his cheeks. the way he lacks the self-control to police his language is also evidence of his utter exhaustion. “last i heard, he was dealing with a couple who had gotten a bauble ornament stuck up the dude’s ass because they wanted to try something ‘festive’ or some shit like that.”

the stories you hear from the emergency department never fail to amaze you with what the human mind can think of doing. it is natural selection at its finest–exhibit a, b, all the way to fucking z. wooyoung gets an absolute kick out of it every single time though, so there is that.

“plain stupidity,” hongjoong rolls his eyes in exasperation. “people need to stop adding to our caseload.”

you chuckle with agreement. “what about yunho? did you get to see him?”

“he’s in surgery,” jongho shakes his head. “not sure what for, but i haven’t heard from him all day so it must be a pretty complicated one.”

the conversation is cut short when his pager goes off. jongho curses, downing the last of his coffee in one large gulp and grimacing from the stale and grainy taste. he crumples the empty paper cup before he apologises, “i have to go. sorry we couldn’t spend christmas together.”

from over the phone, you and your boys refute him with comforting utterances of “don’t be”s, followed by warm exchanges of “merry christmas”s.

“i love you all,” jongho murmurs shyly, the end of a call the only time other than whispered confessions in the safety of a bed where he is comfortable enough to express himself so intimately.

you respond giddily, “love you too,” at the same time your other boyfriends also return the same spoken sentiments. then the youngest ends the call, rushing to attend to an abnormal ECG reading for a patient.

san lets out a sad little sigh as the screen of your phone turns off. his fingers continue to absentmindedly tousle the back of yours and yeosang’s heads whilst wondering, “when will we get to celebrate christmas together? i don’t think all nine of us have ever been free on the same day since we started dating.”

“most of you finish your residency in just over a year, and jongho in two,” seonghwa fondly pinches san’s cheeks, a bittersweet smile adorning his own face, “so maybe the year after that?”

piping up from your other side, wooyoung suggests to the oldest, “or, hear me out–you and hongjoong work while the rest of us stay at home.”

“and do what,” hongjoong narrows his eyes.

“look pretty,” you say in unison with wooyoung, twin grins of mischief flashing at the only registered doctor and clinical nurse specialist in your relationship.

seonghwa laughs endearingly as hongjoong pretends he is not. the rounds of your cheeks settle with warmth when seonghwa leans down to place a sweet kiss against the corner of your mouth in between a teasing, “i wouldn’t mind that.”

it draws out a girlish giggle from you, forever unable to curb the feeling of butterflies in your stomach whenever you are with your boys, even more so with the intoxication of christmas itself–the season of love. wooyoung tilts his cheek out expectantly for his own kiss at the same time hongjoong scruffs the oldest by the neck with a playful chide, “they’re going to actually drop out from the residency program at this rate, hwa.”

but hongjoong is smitten, as you all are for one another, and contrary to his words there is adoration dripping from his gaze…only for it to immediately disappear when wooyoung punches his forearm.

“kiss me, peasant!” wooyoung demands.

“that’s it,” hongjoong snaps and the younger screeches as his neck becomes wrapped in a headlock. in retaliation, wooyoung bites the skin that is within reach, setting off a high-pitched yelp.

yeosang stands up so you take it as your cue to do the same, both of you tucking your chairs under the dining table as san and seonghwa step back from the commotion. you grab your phone then walk away with the three of them to the continued sound of petty slaps and childish bickering.

just another normal day.

“should we sleep in the main bedroom tonight?”

at your suggestion, san wraps his arms around you from behind. his voice rumbles with enthusiasm that you can feel against your back and you sink into his embrace as he agrees, “good idea, love.”

the main bedroom is quite literally a bed room. it consists of numerous platform beds pushed together to make–for lack of better description–an XXXXXXXXL bed. there is nothing else in the room, any and all visible space taken up by the beds as it is the only way to create a surface size comfortable for all nine of you to sleep together.

there are only double or twin beds in the remaining normal bedrooms because frankly, you all need quality sleep for your jobs. between all of your on-call shifts, leaving the house and arriving home at random hours of the day, it is just easier to sleep separately on most nights. plus, despite the fact that you are all earning more than the average salary already, there is still a fuckload of student debt to pay off and mattresses are fucking expensive. hence, you make do with the one room where you splurged your money.

“i’ll let the others know,” yeosang states. he pulls out his phone to send a text to the group chat. mingi and jongho were unlucky enough to have drawn the short end of the stick with a 24-hour shift, and yunho had apparently been placed on surgery. so although it is not the ideal nine of you, you have long learnt to accept that there will almost always be at least two absent at any one time.

seonghwa has already made himself comfortable in the centre of the mattresses when you walk into the bedroom. he lifts the edge of the blanket, arms beckoning for you to cuddle him. you toe off your slippers and crawl into his arms, slotting yourself perfectly against his chest as he tucks you under his chin and covers you with the blanket that is warm from his body heat.

the bed dips again from the weight of somebody else slipping in behind you. he curls around you, a sturdy arm gently cradling your waist with a comforting weight. you can immediately tell that it is san simply from the way his body feels against yours–you would be able to tell any of them apart simply from the way they held you, even if you were to lose your sense of sight.

slowly tracing a finger along the prominent veins on san’s forearm, the bed suddenly rocks with a gleeful shout before the three of you are crushed under an energetic mass. “wooyoung!” you gasp between exasperated fondness and he giggles whilst squirming to make himself space within the cuddle pile.

san moves over so the younger can slot in beside you whilst extending an arm out to his side. it wraps around yeosang to tuck him into the group, and hongjoong settles in last behind seonghwa on the outside edge. there is a bit of further wriggling as you all adjust yourselves comfortably, but eventually your arms and legs twist together snugly. with seonghwa’s fingers languidly combing through your hair, fingertips grazing your scalp with each repetitive motion, you drift off to the boys’ low whispers and enter a dreamy haze of cackling fire and fluttering snow.

it is well into the early hours of the next morning when one of the trio comes home. the soft click of the front door wakes you up, your body used to sleeping lightly from years of on-call shifts. your ears slowly drag you back into the realms of consciousness as you listen.

there is a dull thud and a muffled “ow” that tells you it is yunho, the only one who has somehow made it a habit of his to bump his head on the cabinet every time he bends down to put his sneakers away. as his soft footsteps pad down the hallway, you track his path mentally in your head; to the open dining room to place his messenger bag down on one of the chairs, to the bathroom to wash his face and his hands, then finally to the main bedroom.

to see his lovers.

yunho nudges the door open with bated breath in hopes that he does not wake anybody up. a smile immediately spreads across his face, unable to contain his fondness at the sight that greets him as his eyes adjust to the darkness. within the hands of slumber, you and the boys have slowly spread yourselves out across the mattresses. still, you somehow manage to find each other through the tangle of blankets–seonghwa’s fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist; the tip of wooyoung’s nose nudging your forearm–unwilling to completely separate even in your unconsciousness.

your body dips with the mattress under yunho’s weight when he carefully inches towards you. his sturdy arms hold his frame over your smaller one and you pretend to be asleep just to feel the protective tenderness with which he dips his head slowly to press the softest of kisses against your temple. his warm lips worship your skin with the reverence a butterfly would land upon the prettiest of flowers.

in the magical remnants of an enchanted pre-dawn, yunho whispers bittersweetly, “sorry i’m late, y/n. merry christmas.” then he tucks the blanket more snugly around you, cocooning you in both warmth and love before he pushes himself back off the bed to leave.

as much as he wants to hold you and his boys, yunho has not yet showered. he is exhausted to his very core, unable to bring himself to the arduous task of showering when he can barely keep his eyes open. so he retires himself to one of the other bedrooms instead even though it is the last thing any of you want.

but all of you are used to it. none of you are strangers to coming home in the ghostly hours of night, fighting off debilitating weariness long enough only to check on the others briefly before falling against a mattress away from the clean warmth of somebody's arms.

it is the career and life that you have all chosen. it is just another normal day.

and it is this exact self-sacrificial nature within the medical field that is easily forgotten and overlooked. you and your boys sacrifice your holidays with loved ones to ensure other people get to go back to their loved ones for the holidays. it comes with the price of time, freedom and memories.

but what can also happen is that sometimes…you end up sacrificing the relationships themselves.

for every rapid shuffle you make throughout the house, gathering your things to haphazardly shove into your backpack, mingi trails behind you easily with languid strides of his own.

“i can drive,” you reason half-heartedly as you focus on the stubborn front zipper. “you can be my passenger princess.”

his scandalised look that you would even suggest a thing goes unnoticed even as he protests, “or you be my passenger princess.”

“okay, and how will i get home? your shift doesn’t even end at the same time as mine.” you throw the door of the fridge open to grab your packed lunch, cramming it into the large compartment of your bag.

“yun’s shift does, so he can give you a ride home unless he gets called in for surgery again.”

“and if he does?”

mingi looks at the whiteboard calendar that is mounted on the wall beside him, squinting at the mass of colour-coded letters that are scribbled into the box marking today’s date. “then wait for hwa. his shift ends at five.”

“no,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, “you know how often he picks up extra hours because he can’t bear to leave his PICU babies. i’ll just take the bus home.”

“no,” mingi mimics you as he holds out your coat for you to shrug on, “the correct answer is to then wait for hongjoong or call one of us. between the eight of your boyfriends, there’ll always be someone who is just ending their shift or is free to pick you up.”

you look up from your shoes to level him with a blank stare, “you know that isn’t feasible every single day, right?” despite your words, you do nothing to stop him from stealing your car keys out of your pocket.

mingi’s doggedness–all of their doggedness–in ensuring one of them will always be accompanying you to and from work is endearing, but the truth is that it is not feasible. there is a reason why you had been commuting by yourself the last three years of your residency, and along with the fact that the nine of you have different shifts that change each week, the logistics of it all will drive you insane, if not them.

“that’s besides the point. it’s your first day of work today so i’m doing my baby a favour,” mingi coos teasingly, pinching your cheeks because he knows it gets a rise out of you.

you swat his hands away with a grunt, jabbing his side for good measure in retaliation to his smug grin. “you talk as if we aren’t both fourth-year residents. and it’s not a favour if you have to go there anyway since, you know, we work at the same hospital.”

“it’s your first day at this hospital, so technically you’re still fresh meat,” mingi argues as he pulls the front door open. while you lock it behind you–everybody else already at the hospital–he continues, “plus, my shift doesn’t start until tonight so i’m sacrificing my sleep for you.”

you give him a little curtsy with exaggerated gratitude then hurry after him when he swivels on his heel, head held high like a noble king with you as his court lady. except, the roles reverse the moment you reach the car and he opens the passenger door for you with a bow.

“m’lady,” he beckons inside.

you snort but settle yourself into the seat, patiently waiting for mingi to get in from the other side of the car. as he starts the fifteen-minute drive to the hospital, you suddenly look at him with suspicious clarity, head now clearing enough to wonder why the most rational of your boyfriends is being irrational. 

“you’re trying to get on my good side for something, aren’t you? did you spill coffee on seonghwa’s scrubs again?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“what?” mingi’s head whips towards you before he looks back at the road, chuckling nervously. “no? of course not. why would you think that?”

at your lack of response, he crumbles with a confession. “it was hongjoong’s idea! he said i should drop you off so i can size up whoever might try and chat you up on your first day.”

“god, you’re all hopeless,” you burst out into laughter.

prior to today, you and the boys had discussed how public you were all going to be at the hospital about your relationship. it had been decided that you would not deny it if questions arose, but at the same time, you were not going to go out of your way to make your relationship with one another general knowledge.

not everybody is going to be accepting of your polyamorous dynamic and neither do you need people questioning whether you successfully transferred into the residency program at this hospital through…favours. because despite the fact that it is the twenty-first century, it remains the harsh reality that the doctoral field is still predominantly male-oriented, with females automatically assumed to be the nurses–lesser in hierarchy, knowledge and skill.

a rumour as such might not affect the boys but it would be enough to tarnish your career.

as mingi pulls into the underground parking lot for employees, you rest a hand on his forearm to stop him from turning off the ignition. “mingi, i’ll be fine,” you reassure. “go home and get some sleep.”

“but hongjoong–”

“–will just have to stop being a big baby. we’re in our mid-twenties,” you chuckle, “not fresh eighteen-year-olds discovering the opposite gender for the first time. everyone’s going to be too busy on their first day to care about flirting.”

you lean over the console of the car and mingi relaxes easily under your hand that caresses his jawline. he melts once you press a soft kiss against his cheek, conceding, “alright.”

“i’ll see you at home before your shift.”

he nods and watches as you get out of the car. from out of the open window, he gives you a cute little wave, waiting for you to walk through the sliding doors before he leaves. you walk to the elevator doors to press the up arrow, fidgeting with your scrubs and hair with nervous restlessness until the sounding of a soft ding followed by the low groan of parting doors. you take a deep breath, then you walk in.

into kq hospital.

boasting over one hundred different core and specialised departments and home to some of the few fields in advanced medicine, kq hospital is the largest and most renowned hospital in seoul. your years of clinical experience in other hospitals and past visits to your boys during their shifts provide you with a sense of familiarity with the place, but it is still easy to feel overwhelmed by its formidable size and bustling urgency.

seeing the fresh interns and second-year residents gathered in the auditorium as you join them for the morning orientation reminds you of your own four years ago. never did you think you would have to undergo orientation again during your residency, yet here you are, having transferred to kq hospital in your final year for the clinical exposure and opportunities in career advancement that it has to offer.

you sit towards the back of the auditorium, a few seats away from a girl who has the nerves of an intern. you give her a polite smile then face the front, not exactly ready to make small talk unless you have to. yunho always jokes that as an introvert you really picked the wrong job–you have no defence as you pull out your phone and pretend to be occupied.

somebody slides into the seat next to yours a few minutes later. however, your saving grace comes in the form of several people walking across the front of the stage, so you do not have to do much more than dip your head in courteous greeting before everybody settles into silence.

a woman in thin-rimmed glasses steps up to the podium. “welcome, interns and residents. my name is doctor heo and i’m the program director of the paediatric residency program here at kq hospital.”

the hours of the morning quickly blur together into a multitude of faces, names and information. you and a few of the other senior residents had only been required to attend half of the general welcome talk, your orientation much faster and tailored to your pre-existing experience. by the time you have gone through the policies, patient populations and workflows of the paediatric department, your head is reeling to digest it all.

only at twelve do you converge with the interns again, this time at the cafeteria. there is a generous spread of catering of finger food and drinks before the joint lunch you will have with the other faculty members from your department.

“this will be a good opportunity for all of you to meet the residents, doctors, nurses and department heads. get to know your colleagues because they will be the ones you are learning from,” dr. heo advises.

your ears perk up, wondering whether you will be able to see some of your boyfriends. san is already a fourth-year resident in the paediatric department, wooyoung one of the nurses, and even though seonghwa works mainly in the paediatric ICU, his position as a clinical nurse specialist likely makes him important enough to at least show his face.

everybody starts to make their way over to the tables to fill their plates as they mingle and chat amongst one another. you have always had a sensitive stomach that often disagrees with food–the very reason why wooyoung makes your lunch most days, which currently still sits inside your bag–but you do not want to appear ungrateful or picky. so you head to the drinks to at least keep your hands filled.

just as you grab a small glass of orange juice, a voice startles you. “it’s you! hi.”

you turn to find a man maybe a few years younger than you with a bright smile on his face. “hi?” you hesitantly answer, unsure why he is acting so familiar with you.

he frowns slightly, “you don’t remember me?”

you could honestly give less than a flying fuck who he is, but you suppose the whole point of this break is to give those fucks, so you apologise instead, “sorry, i’m not great with faces.”

“i sat next to you during orientation this morning,” he laughs like you have just cracked the funniest joke. he extends his hand out for a handshake, “i’m doctor baek, but you can call me cheolmin.”

“nice to meet you, doctor baek,” you return the handshake, setting your boundaries with your response. “doctor l/n.”

he quirks a brow amusedly. unprompted, he reveals, “my sister’s boyfriend’s aunt’s friend knows the director of this hospital,” as if he thinks you would be impressed. you are willing to bet the seventy-two dollars in your savings account that the director of the hospital does not have a clue who this dr. baek is.

as you struggle to come up with a professional response that is not a sarcastic ‘cool’, you suddenly make eye contact with somebody from over his shoulder. they are looking at you with nonchalant amusement, lips tugged up smugly and their hands in the pockets of their coat.

you hurry to wrap up the conversation and make a move to step around dr. baek. “that’s great, nice to meet you. i’m going to go and introduce myself to–”

“are you doing anything after work today?” he cuts you off, stepping slightly in front of you. “it would be nice for us to get to know each other better, considering we’ll be colleagues from now on.”

“uh…” you trail off, distracted when you make eye contact again with the person and they cock their eyebrow, asking for your permission to play knight. you give the subtlest of nods before dr. baek adjusts himself into your line of vision.

“doctor l/n, don’t play hard to g–”

“y/n,” the dependable voice of hongjoong interrupts dr. baek. your expression relaxes into a smile as your boyfriend sidles up to you, presence steadfast and unwavering. “i didn’t catch you this morning–how are you getting home?”

dr. baek’s eyes narrow even further at the implication of hongjoong’s question than when he realises you two are on first-name basis.

“mingi dropped me off so i can’t drive,” you shrug.

“i finish at five-thirty. i’ll take you home,” hongjoong says, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. “make sure to put on your jacket while you wait for me. it’s meant to snow later so it’ll be cold.”

you laugh softly at his attentiveness, “okay, hongjoong.”

unable to watch any longer, dr. baek pivots on his heel and stalks away. your boyfriend cannot resist pulling you closer by the sleeve of your scrubs as he haughtily huffs, “i knew people would hit on you.”

“is that why you told mingi to take me to work today?” you tease. hongjoong is also from the neurology department–definitely not meant to be here right now–but you will save that ammunition for another time.

“oh, look,” hongjoong pretends not to hear you as he ushers you away from the tables. “san and wooyoung are over there. let’s go and talk to people who actually matter.”

the laugh you let out this time is unrestrained, letting yourself be led through the interspersed groups of people towards your other boyfriends–the only people who actually matter. san and wooyoung’s faces break out into the most tender of smiles the moment they lay their eyes upon you and hongjoong, and the remaining nerves and tension in your body completely melt away when you feel their subtle embraces around you.

it may be winter and the road ahead to acclimatise with your new job may be demanding, but you know that you will be shielded from the cold of the world by the warmth that your boys will always bring to you.

“patient history and current status?”

selecting the seventh floor, you press the close button to the elevator doors once your team of four have settled inside. you turn back slightly to look at your interns in wait for a response to your question.

dr. son glances at dr. yang before answering, “the patient is kim seolhee, currently six years and three months old. she was initially diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukaemia at two years, eight months. she was admitted into hospital one month ago due to a relapse and is currently undergoing re-induction therapy. she received a chemotherapy dose this morning, so we are monitoring for any potential side effects from the treatment.”

“and how is she responding to the treatment?” you probe.

“slow response–the leukaemia cells are not clearing as expected so second-line chemotherapy is likely to be recommended.”

you nod at the information as the elevator doors open to the paediatric oncology ward. walking out, you ask, “why is the patient not responding to first-line treatment?”

the following silence permeates with flusteredness that shows neither intern has considered this question. “doctor lee?” you cue instead.

the junior resident takes over with ease. “seolhee’s initial treatment when she was first diagnosed required aggressive chemotherapy due to resistant leukaemia. treatment lasted for two and a half years and she achieved remission at five years, four months. however, she relapsed one month ago due to minimal residual disease in the bone marrow.

“from her history, we know that her leukaemia was resistant to initial treatment and there is the persistence of residual cancer cells at the time of relapse. plus, her diagnosis is T-cell, not B-cell, which tends to present with greater quantities of leukaemia cells and thus requires more intensive therapy. all of these risk factors combined makes it difficult for remission to be achieved through first-line re-induction therapy.”

“well done, doctor lee,” you acknowledge as he beams, “all of that and the fact that her relapse is early–merely nine months after remission–correlates to a higher likelihood of treatment resistance.” you address your interns, “it is easy to focus on the patient’s immediate presentation, but it is just as important–if not more–to look at it in the context of their prior admissions and treatment responses. that was a good attempt though, doctor yang.” reaching the door to the room you are about to enter, you quickly wrap up the conversation and head in.

seolhee looks at you curiously, a new face being one of the only interesting things that change up her repetitive days in the hospital. her sickly pallor and sunken cheeks are a morbid juxtaposition against her rounded eyes and braided pigtails. as you walk closer, you can see that her hair has been plaited loosely with care so as not to strain her already-thinning hair.

you lower yourself to the side of her bed with a bright smile as you compliment, “i love your hair! who did it for you?”

immediately, she beams, any prior apprehension clearing as she tells you, “my favourite nurse! he's been braiding my hair for years!”

“has he now?” you gaze at her fondly as she happily shows you the ribbons tied to the ends too.

“are you talking about me?”

seolhee’s eyes instantly light up in response to the voice that enters the room. she exclaims, “nurse hwa!”

“hello, my snowflake.”

you turn just in time to see seonghwa walking in with endearment enveloping his entire face. you let out a small chuckle, your own eyes melting with honey at the sight of him. of course he would be the favourite nurse.

when seolhee questions why he is making his rounds earlier than usual, he leans in conspiratorially, yet in a whisper loud enough for you to hear, “a little birdie told me that your new doctor is very pretty, so i had to come see for myself.”

he winks at you and you shake your head with an exasperated smile. so much for keeping lowkey and professional. clearing your throat, you play along, “ah, are you the favourite nurse who braided her hair, nurse hwa?” you find it absolutely hilarious that six-year-olds are using the same pet name that you use for your boyfriend.

seonghwa nods, “my girlfriend taught me.”

“she must be quite the amazing girlfriend, then,” you joke.

“she is,” he smiles, gazing softly at you.

for a six-year-old, seolhee is frighteningly perceptive as she looks back and forth between the two of you before blurting out, “is she the pretty girlfriend you always talk about?”

you fluster with a bright blush that you try to conceal behind a cough, only to make eye contact with dr. son and dr. lee giving you the most delightful shit-eating grins on their faces from beside you. seonghwa simply laughs, brightly and joyfully like the festive chime of bells. his affirmative nod in response is just as childishly proud as the one adorning seolhee’s face at having guessed correctly. she decides right there and then that you are her favourite doctor, because you are pretty.

“let me give you something,” she beckons with a small wave, little fingers calling for you to look closely.

seolhee pulls a little booklet out of the bedside table’s top drawer. the cover and edges are well-loved and from the way the top of the little booklet is nearly falling apart, you can tell that she has used it often. she flicks through the empty pages one by one until she finds what she is looking for. fiddling for a few more seconds, she holds out her hand to present you with–

“a sticker?” you ask.

“for doing a good job,” she giggles.

you take the circular sticker from her extended fingers. when you look down, you realise it is a little snowflake with a smiley face on it. the corners of your own mouth tug upwards involuntarily and your cheeks round out until they start to feel sore. never did you think a mere sticker would bring you such glee as an adult, but you are going to wear it proudly.

you tug the breast pocket of your scrubs outwards so that you can stick it onto your name badge, right next to the small twinkling star that is the signature additional design on all of the paediatric departments’ name badges. at your response, seolhee beams with pride.

“where’s mine?” seonghwa childishly quips.

“you haven’t done anything yet,” seolhee wags her little finger at him as he swallows the urge to retort that neither have you. “have you drawn my blood yet? inserted an eye-vee line or a…pick line?”

“no,” he chortles in defeat, “no IV or PICC lines today. maybe a blood test later.”

“so no sticker for you,” she reprimands him rightfully.

the conversation draws a laugh out of you, yet leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. a child like seolhee should be talking about the colour of her doll’s dress and the name of her plush teddy, not medical procedures that draw her line between life and death.

seonghwa eyes your sticker mischievously. “i might have to steal her sticker then.”

seolhee glares at him like a ferocious kitten, easily deciding that you are now her favourite out of all the doctors and nurses. “don’t you dare,” she pouts before turning to you with full solemnity and seriousness to pledge, “if he steals it, come back and i’ll give you another one.”

you send him a smug wink and seonghwa finally concedes, arms raised in mock surrender. “i’ll go back to my morning rounds then. see you later, snowflake,” he gives her a wave before bidding you goodbye with playful professionalism, “see you later, doctor l/n.”

on his way out, seonghwa exchanges brief but warm pleasantries with a middle-aged woman who is simultaneously entering the room. it is easy to presume that she is seolhee’s visitor, considering she is not wearing scrubs. just as you are about to introduce yourself, the woman's eyes skim right past yours to land on the taller of the interns behind you.

"hi, you must be seolhee's new doctor," she greets. "i'm her mother."

dr. yang shifts uncomfortably on his feet and glances at you, unsure how to correct the older woman that whilst he is a doctor, he is not the most senior one. with grace, you extend a warm hand out with an even warmer smile.

"lovely to meet you, mrs kim. i'm doctor l/n, and this is my intern, doctor yang," you introduce, before gesturing behind to your left. "this is my other intern, doctor son, and this is doctor lee, my second-year resident."

seolhee's mother rushes to shake your hand as she trails off, "sorry, i assumed he was the doctor because..."

"i know, i get that often. don't worry about it," you pat her hand placatingly.

she responds, "well, it's going to be nice having a female face around."

from the flush on her face and the overcompensatory laugh that leaves her lips, you know she does not mean it as much as she is trying to cover up her embarrassment. the woman before you is not the first person to have dismissed you as a nurse or an intern solely based on your gender, and she will definitely not be the last. so you pretend not to notice, redirecting with a laugh of your own and the question, “how has seolhee been feeling since her dose this morning?”

mrs kim easily jumps on the change in conversation and the attention shifts to the little girl in bed. you listen intently to any side effects of concern, long having learnt to ignore the layered feelings of fatigue, frustration and disappointment in your chest whenever somebody undermines your capabilities, even if it is never ill-intentioned.

because as with any job, there are sacrifices to be made, and putting other people’s comfort before your own is just one of the many.

you do not want to jinx it, but you think that you may not mind night shifts after all.

“what are you thinking about?”

yeosang fills your entire vision, his brown orbs blinking at you curiously with a mellow dusting of blossom pink speckled across his cheeks from your close proximity. you have often been pulled away into a hidden corner or spare room somewhere within the labyrinth of the hospital by one of your boyfriends for a few minutes of company, but this is the first time yeosang has initiated it. his shy nature is endearing though, and it is a much-needed break during your second consecutive night shift.

you tease, "it's a secret," before pressing an innocent kiss against the corner of his lips right where it quirks up bashfully whenever he is around you. yeosang carefully rests his hands on the dips of your hips and brings you in a little closer towards him as you ask, "what about you? what's on your mind?"

“wondering how long we can stay in this storage room for before one of us gets paged.”

his answer stuns you for a second but then you both break out into giggles at the absurdity of his answer. “jongho has rubbed off on you too much," you adoringly flick the bottom of his chin with the tip of your finger. not many people know, but yeosang is just as bad of an influence as all your other boyfriends when he wants to be.

"we could try," he suggests with a grin. "none of my team was rostered on for a night shift with me."

your laugh easily fills the small space, "neither was my team."

“so nobody would come looking for us, unless–”

a discrete tap sounds against the door from right next to where you and yeosang are pressed up against one another. you both fall silent and motionless, pupils wide and breaths held, hoping you have either misheard or whoever is outside will leave soon. but then you hear another tap and it does not stop. the tapping is incessant, obviously trying to gain the attention of you two. yeosang ducks down as you raise the blinds of the small window on the door and you peer out to find–

–fucking wooyoung squashed right up against the glass pane with a cheshire grin. you finish yeosang’s sentence for him, “unless one of our boyfriends do.”

wooyoung perks up immediately at the word 'boyfriends' as if that is his cue. "hi," he announces, "are you guys making out? i heard yeosang."

you sputter while yeosang pops up beside you with a horrified expression at the younger’s uncouth question. said person beams cheekily, “can i join?”

wooyoung’s breath fogs up the glass with every word he says but he is unfazed. your boyfriend simply rubs the glass with the sleeve of his coat, presses his face up against the window again and continues to look at you both with a dazzling, expectant smile. when neither of you respond, he winks for good measure.

wooyoung flinches and shrieks when you tap the glass right between his eyes. he jerks back enough for you to push the door open and step out through the gap with mirth bubbling in your chest. you playfully drag your fingers across his chest, then tease with faux coyness, “break time is over, sorry.”

the indignant whine you receive in response is more than enough for the amusement to spill out of your chest as you walk away. you will make it up to him with triple the amount of kisses once both of you are home. for now, you walk back to your department, pleased that yeosang’s oncology ward is not far from yours.

even during the late hours of a night shift, the hospital is never completely quiet. the rhythmic sounds of beeping machines interspersed by footsteps and closing doors follow you down the corridors of the paediatric ward. what truly sobers you out of the lighthearted moment you just had, though, are the occasional whimpers; of discomfort, of pain, of nightmares.

you enter seolhee’s room alone–your interns and junior resident scheduled only for the day shift–to find the little girl also by herself. her parents must have decided to go home, having already spent countless consecutive nights by her side since she commenced second-line chemotherapy last week.

seolhee received a dose of nelarabine just this morning so you need to keep a close eye on her. a quick flick through the chart on her rolling cart shows that the nurse on night shift had taken her vitals just two hours ago with no abnormalities.

“doctor snowflake?”

you startle at the quiet murmur. turning to look at the bed, seolhee is looking at you with slow, blinking eyes and a tiny smile. your own eyes soften as you lower yourself down towards her, “why are you still awake?”

“couldn’t sleep,” she mutters.

you scan her face with concern, “are you feeling pain anywhere? feeling sick?”

seolhee shakes her head in reassurance. then in a small voice, she answers, “just lonely.”

the tension in your shoulders releases only slightly. the little girl before you may be feeling all right physically…but at what cost? your chest tightens with humbling clarity–you may sacrifice a lot as a doctor, but your patients sacrifice so much more. neither is it a choice for them.

it is a relatively quiet night; you can spend time with her. and even if you did not have time, you can make time for her.

you pull a chair closer to sit down, gesturing for her consent to lift up her blankets to check her skin for signs of bruising or infection. she nods and you ask, “why doctor snowflake?” to keep her mind occupied.

seolhee glances at your name badge. “because you still have the snowflake sticker and snowflakes are pretty, just like you.”

the line insertion site on her chest is free of discharge and irritation and you fix the front of her hospital gown. “that must also be why nurse hwa calls you a snowflake,” you fondly tap the tip of her nose as she giggles.

“my name means snow,” she tells you proudly. “my parents named me seolhee because i was born on the first day of snow.”

“they named you well, seolhee. you really are a special gift, a precious snowflake.” in the muffled quiet of the hospital ward, you let go of your professionalism for a brief moment to make a hushed promise, “one day, you will be able to join all the other snowflakes outside–free to flutter and land wherever you want.”

not confined to the hospital nor your sickness.

seolhee returns a promise of her own, “and when i’m all better, i’ll come back to visit you.” she beckons for you to lean in before she whispers into your ear, “because you’re my favourite.”

you are technically not meant to play favourites, but it is hard when she is far ahead of the others in the unofficial competition. so you whisper back scandalously, like two teenage girl friends gossiping together, not a doctor with her patient in hospital, “you’re my favourite, too.”

the pager in your pocket goes off and seolhee’s face falls with disappointment. one of her hands involuntarily reaches out in your direction, seeking comfort and companionship in a place where people succumb to grief and isolation every day.

seolhee is only a child. she should be sleeping in her own bed at home, the faint glow from her phosphorescent star stickers across her bedroom ceiling guiding her into whimsical dreams. instead, it is the washed out moonlight filtering through the drawn curtains in her hospital room, shadows of snowfall outside drifting gently across her face, that surrounds seolhee’s fragile body in a romanticised nightmare.

“how about this,” you suggest, “if you go to sleep now, i’ll come again tomorrow night and i’ll tell you the story of how nurse hwa and i met.”

her eyes light up. “you promise?”

christmas has passed, but it does not mean that the season of miracles has to come to an end with it. you nod, “i promise.”

this time, when you make a move to stand up, seolhee does not reach out for you. she does not need you to stay; she has your gift of a promise to hold onto instead.

“goodnight, my little snowflake,” you tuck her blanket around her shoulders. affectionately, you brush her thinning hair off her forehead, “love you.”

you almost miss her sleepy response, a mumbled sentence just as you reach the threshold of the door to her room–words from a little girl whose heart is too big for the world to ever truly contain.

“i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”

like the heavy snowfall that comes with the arrival of mid-winter, work quickly starts to pile upon itself into layers that do not melt away easily.

you are not the only one nearly thigh-deep in the snow. besides yourself, yunho, yeosang and san are also residents in your final year juggling demanding caseloads and increasing responsibilities as the seniors. hongjoong has been slaving away in preparation for the annual meeting of the korean neurological association, and seonghwa has recently been tasked with revising the departmental policies and procedures for sepsis protocols.

all of that on top of the nine of you studying for specialty board exams, pouring over journal articles to stay up to date and partaking in research projects, it almost becomes a game of never-ending tag in the house with the small increments of time that are lucky enough to overlap with somebody else.

unable to see one another as often, much less spend time together, you and the boys have to make do whenever you can, wherever you can, however you can. it comes in varying forms; a shared smile in brief passing through the wards, an extra chocolate in your packed lunch, a quick reminder to wrap your scarf snugly.

this morning, it comes in the form of an inconspicuous-looking disposable cup waiting for you in your assigned cubby. you almost miss it and knock it over with the bag you hastily push into the space, but the stark contrast of a black scribble against the whiteness of the cup’s surface catches your eye right before you give your bag a final shove.

it is a cup of takeaway coffee from the cafe downstairs–the one you never buy coffee from because the wait for your order can take up to ten minutes, and that is ten minutes of time every single day that you cannot afford to give up. but for you, there is someone willing to sacrifice those ten minutes of their day.

your eyes soften and eyebrows upturn as you immediately deduce who the coffee is from. if the coffee itself is not a dead giveaway, then the cute, artistic doodle of rudolph surrounded by little hearts around his antlers and the accompanying phrase, ‘you’re my rein-dear’, is.

jongho.

for a brief moment of respite from the unceasing rapidity of the hospital, you are warmed from your very core all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes by your boyfriend’s gesture. one hand starts to reach for your phone to send a text of appreciation when the call of your name jerks you out of the comfort you had been encased in. the cup is set down without finding its sweet home against a pair of lips.

“doctor nam is looking for you.”

you wince. dr. nam, the head of the paediatric department, has never really seemed to take a fancy to you for some reason. you are quite certain you have not done anything to provoke his unwarranted scrutiny, but apparently you can never be too sure.

as you hurry to dr. nam’s office, your legs work on autopilot through the corridors and doorways. your mind bombards itself with a barrage of thoughts, guessing what the meeting may be for, estimating how long it might take, and calculating how far behind you will fall with the onslaught of other tasks you are meant to complete before you are joined by your juniors for your morning rounds.

you do not have time for this, and you most certainly do not have time to–

“–take on an extra intern?”

your eyes blink themselves into a carefully schooled expression of neutrality despite the voiced incredulity in the question you have just asked. dr. nam has summoned you to his office to notify you of an additional intern commencing in the paediatric department and you are to be their assigned senior. what a fucking splendid way to start the day.

it is completely normal for a senior resident to have four juniors to teach, but interns have less experience and confidence, requiring significantly more time and effort–time and effort that you do not know if you have. the thought of another intern in addition to your existing two and second-year resident is enough to make you want to enter hibernation for the rest of your life.

what you also know though is that dr. yoon, another fourth-year resident, only has two juniors under him–both second-years at that. respectfully yet firmly, you bring up such and suggest, “it may be in the best interest of all parties for doctor yoon or somebody else, even doctor ha, to take on the new intern. this can ensure all of our junior doctors are receiving as much one-on-one support and guidance as possible.”

the department head raises an eyebrow, eyes dull and mouth pressed together thinly as he stares back at you dryly. “both doctor yoon and doctor ha are promising candidates to become chief residents. they do not have time to spare to teach interns.”

‘promising candidates’. you are not saying that that is bullshit…but that is bullshit. this is the first time anybody has praised them as such and the only thing that would make them both supposedly more qualified than all the other senior residents is their direct acquaintance with dr. nam himself.

fuck nepotism.

gritting your teeth and taking a deep but restrained breath in what you know is just a losing fight, you yield, “when does the intern start?”

the right corner of dr. nam’s lips raises smugly as he answers, “today. doctor lim will be waiting for you in the resident lounge near my office. orientate him to the department.”

and down the drain goes all thoughts of ending on time tonight. when you stalk over stiffly to the lounge, dr. lim is leaning against the edge of a desk, legs extended and crossed at the ankles in front of him not dissimilar to how his arms are over his chest. one foot taps disinterestedly as he waits. you have a bad feeling you already know what kind of intern he is going to be.

“doctor lim,” you call out.

“you’re doctor l/n?” the intern looks at you snobbishly, very obviously sizing you up and down.

“yes.”

dr. lim takes a lazy glance at the clock on the wall. “you’re kinda late.”

and you’re kinda a fucking asshole, you want to retort. but you have not survived this long without learning how to reel in the burst of flames that erupts inside your chest, so instead you look at him placatingly. “you were not originally part of my planned day. doctor nam asked for a very last minute favour.”

not so much a favour as an outright demand, but he does not need to know.

“i’ll show you around the hospital before our morning rounds,” you state. at his audible sigh whilst pushing himself heavily off the table, you cannot help but get at least one jab in, “an inconvenience for the both of us, but do bear with me.”

after a sarcastic smile, you turn around without waiting to see if he follows. the first place you take him to is where all the personal lockers and cubbies are just to retrieve your forgotten coffee and take a long sip. it spites him as desired, a nose wrinkled in your direction. nevermind the fact that it has long cooled to room temperature–your coffee has never tasted sweeter.

the rest of your day, unfortunately, runs in bitter discord. straight after dr. lim’s orientation, you run yourself dry with morning rounds, acute care and consultations with other paediatric departments, all the while trying to catch dr. lim up to the expected competency for interns. the end of the day does not appear to get any closer within reach and yet, you have no idea where all your time is going.

you end up throwing in the towel exactly seven hours and twenty-three minutes into your shift, when you are trying to teach the very basics of the hospital’s electronic medical record system for the umpteenth time. there are only so many ways you can explain the five steps required to start drafting a progress note for a patient–the very five steps that do not change. if you have to repeat yourself one more fucking time you are going to shoot somebody, doctor’s oath or not, and that somebody has a last name that starts with ‘l’ and rhymes with ‘dim’.

dr. son and dr. yang are sent as the scapegoats to teach the new intern how to navigate the system. with all three of your interns now occupied, you also send dr. lee off to adjust the medication for a few of the patients whose daily lab results had come back this morning with minor fluctuations in numbers.

your body almost crashes the moment your juniors disperse and only then do you tune in to your senses. contrary to the grumbling cavern in your stomach, there is a heavy pressure in your bladder and parchedness in your throat. jongho’s coffee was the last of anything you had consumed today–the lunch wooyoung had packed for you remains untouched in your bag–and you have been unable to step away even briefly to use the bathroom. trudging heavily through the paediatric oncology ward, the one thing that keeps you upright on your feet is that you are not scheduled for an on-call shift tonight. 

“y/n.”

the sweet and low timbre of the voice that sounds from ahead of you immediately turns the one into two things. it takes the remainder of your willpower not to bury yourself straight into san’s arms as he gives you a cute dimpled smile.

your eyes reflect the sparkle of happiness in his once you are close enough, neither of you having planned to run into one another. san is currently in his paediatric haematology rotation and whilst your departments are closely related, it is not very often that your caseloads align for patient consultation directly between the two of you.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the pleasant surprise in your words.

san steps in a little, naturally inclined to be physically close to you and answers, “going to check up on seolhee. have you gotten around to seeing her today?”

seolhee was one of the patients you were planning on fitting into your day. one of the nurses had documented nausea and reduced appetite at lunch time, so you were going to review her current antiemetic regimen and decide if it needed adjusting. but then she had ultimately been pushed back as a medium priority on your list with everything else you had to complete first.

when you shake your head, san proposes, “want to join me then?”

your lips quirk upwards at his suggestion. it is sort of piteous that your time walking together through the ward to see a shared patient is the closest to a date you have had with san in the last few weeks. but as he gives you a playful nudge to your side and you back to him like you are strolling along the snowy streets instead of sterile corridors, you are grateful for at least these short moments of interaction.

seolhee’s voice is spirited when she greets you despite the increasingly dark shadows silhouetting her face. you smile, “hi, snowflake. i brought a friend with me this time.”

when san’s gaze is not focused on you, he looks at the little girl with the same softness and deep affection; you like his moon, his patients like his stars. you are unable to imagine san ever working in a career that does not involve children.

“i’m doctor choi,” he introduces himself gently. “i heard you’ve been feeling a bit tired and didn’t really eat lunch today, so i’m here to see what i can do to help you feel better.”

as you bend down slightly to adjust the corner of seolhee’s blanket, san steps behind you to reach for her chart. he unconsciously places his left hand on the nape of your neck and tenderly squeezes out of loving habit. immediately, san feels the tight knots under his fingertips that only surface whenever you are stressed or overworked.

his eyebrows furrow and he dips his head down slightly to softly murmur, “hey, rough day today?”

“just a little,” you admit, looking upwards whilst placing your own hand atop his in reassurance. “don’t worry.”

there is a giggle to the side. seolhee’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you before she cryptically asks, “doctor choi, do you know who nurse hwa is?”

“i do…” san answers, puzzled by the random question.

seolhee looks at you and giggles again with a very directed comment, “i see.”

you have said this before and you will say this again: seolhee is frighteningly perceptive. if she were two decades older, you just know she would be that friend of yours who you are unable to hide any secrets from. leaning in, you whisper, “there are six more of us.”

her eyes widen with curiosity. “do i know any of them?”

of the remaining boys, wooyoung is the only other one who is specialising in paediatrics and likely to have come across seolhee before. “nurse wooyoung,” you divulge.

she sinks back into her pillow at the revelation and nods approvingly as if she is your mother. “good choices,” she supports, san letting out a bright laugh from beside you now having caught on to what the conversation is about.

the rest of the bedside evaluation continues as such. seolhee badgers you both with questions about the rest of your boyfriends–which department they are in, what their names are and most importantly, what they look like so she can keep an eye out for them.

you indulge her with answers, far longer than you should, but it is an easy decision when it comes to anything involving your favourite patient and your boyfriends. you have long learnt that any amount of time that you give to somebody else even at your own expense will always be worth lifetimes more to them than the luxury of a punctual meal or longer shower that you would gain from the time instead.

so when your shift for the day ends and you still have not completed all of your work, you end up staying overtime and it is only then, during the evening, that you are finally able to sit. your stomach no longer growls, body running solely on cortisol, the caffeine from jongho’s coffee having long depleted. you turn on your hospital-issued tablet and pull out a stack of jotted notes. with mid-rotation feedback for your juniors in two days, you have their paperwork to complete before you can even start to scrape away at your actual paperwork.

you do not realise how stiff your neck and shoulders have become from hunching over for a prolonged period until there is a knock at the door of the resident lounge and a timid, “um, doctor l/n?”

“yes?” a soft wince escapes your lips when the movement from looking up sends a brief stab of pain down your back.

the intern standing at the doorway comes scurrying in. “i’m here to give you the report on the pathology results.”

“pathology results?” you repeat, mind blank of patients who had needed a biopsy or tumour excision.

“from doctor jeong? from general surgery?” the intern’s voice trails off, face blanching at the creeping possibility that he has found the wrong resident.

“doctor j–oh,” you suppress the sudden tug at the corners of your lips to reassure, “yes, my apologies, i forgot. thank you.”

you have certainly not forgotten about an entire pathology report you have requested–this is simply yunho being your boyfriend. waiting until the intern has scurried off, you flick the clipboard open to find exactly what you had been expecting: anything but a report.

there is a sole sticky note, neon green, that grins right up at you with another of yunho's scrawled jokes. 'are you a snowman? cause i wanna stick my carrot into your mou–'

the clipboard slams shut with a resounding clap in the emptiness of the lounge. back ramrod straight, your eyes dart around scandalously even though you are the only person in the room to witness the contents of the flirtatious message.

"oh my fucking god," you guffaw. "jeong yunho!"

(from somewhere within the general surgery department three floors down, somebody lets out a delighted giggle of glee at the thought of a certain message having been received.)

your laugh eventually fades out with a poignant sigh as you peel the sticky note off the clipboard and stare at it in your hands. the start of this year has already been the toughest year in your residency thus far and it is no easy feat for nine people in the same or similar situation to balance a romantic relationship simultaneously.

you must give, and give, and give, but like you have experienced today, you also receive. it is never anything huge; a coffee, some food, a note, a conversation. yet for now, that is enough to keep moving forward even if your feet are buried deep under the snow.

however, you will soon come to realise that the issue does not lie in whether you are receiving enough or not, but in the fact that you can unknowingly give away too much of yourself without even realising.

you give the little boy and his family who are in front of you a smile that conveys both appreciation and apologeticness. if you were in their position, surrounded by inexperienced interns learning to properly insert a central line, you would be on edge too.

dr. yang and dr. son stand off to the side, hands clasped together in front of themselves with concealed nervousness for dr. lim. said man is anything but nervous, when really, he is the only intern who should be nervous out of the three of them. ever since he started, dr. lim has consistently performed with a shocking lack of care and willingness to learn. but you had learnt the hard way the first time you tried to bring up this issue that dr. lim is not somebody you can touch because of his connections, so you have no choice but to tolerate his incompetence.

you beckon for dr. lim to come closer so that you can show him the proper angle of needle entry. he does, at least smart enough to know he needs to maintain some level of professionalism in front of actual patients lest the hospital be sued.

“for an internal jugular vein catheterisation while the head is in the neutral position, what is the angle of needle entry?” you question.

dr. lim guesses, “twenty?”

“thirty to forty-five, and the angle adjusts based on the ultrasound image,” you correct, not having expected him to remember despite the numerous times you have already taught him on physical phantoms. your gloved fingers trace over the patient’s clavicle towards the sternum as you continue explaining, “locate both the sternal and clavicular heads of the sternocleidomastoid muscle. this forms the triangle where your IVJ lies beneath. the needle should aim towards the ipsilateral nipple.”

positioning the tip of the needle at the apex of the triangle for a few seconds, you then pass it to dr. lim with the instruction, “show me the positioning and angle of the needle only.”

the intern takes the needle from your hand, his other hand roughly probing the sternocleidomastoid muscle before angling the needle perpendicular to the young boy’s neck like he is a fucking hostage. your voice is curt as you rush to correct dr. lim, adjusting his hands with verbal prompts, before you slip the needle out of his hands to fully take over the procedure now.

“you’re not ready yet,” you assert when he glares at you, further reiterating, “when you can independently position and angle the needle, and you can demonstrate to me that you can use the correct pressure when inserting the needle in a mannequin, then you are ready.” you do not care if he has connections with dr. nam. you make it clear to your intern that he cannot fuck around with his theoretical knowledge and phantom training and still expect you to let him practice on real people.

outside the room, wooyoung winces in sympathy for you as he passes by and catches the end of your firm reprimand. you have come home far too many times with pent-up frustration for him–and all your boyfriends–not to know about your notorious intern. wooyoung hands over the central line kit he is returning to the ward’s nursing station then dawdles by the desk.

he waits in hopes of catching your eye and giving you a smile to equip you with the patience he knows must be needed to deal with dr. lim. your boyfriend’s face softens unconsciously as he watches your expression, now concentrated with furrowed brows as you steadily insert the needle whilst monitoring the ultrasound, because wooyoung thinks you look the most charismatic when you are working. when a nurse calls out for wooyoung, he takes one last glance at you before walking away.

you straighten up and step away for dr. lee to take over the rest of the procedure, just in time to see the back of your boyfriend’s figure darting away with purpose. his long unruly hair flies around with mirrored chaos that you could recognise anywhere. and as you explain to the patient’s parents the remainder of the catheterisation procedure, the smile on your face is much more genuine than it would have been mere seconds ago.

it continues to linger subconsciously long after the brief glimpse you get of your boyfriend. for wooyoung, too, it is the same. working together at the hospital means that you can still be a source of light for one another even if only from a far distance and that is always what gets you through to the end of your shift.

when five o’clock finally rolls around, you head to your locker whilst checking your phone. there are no notifications from hongjoong, so you type a quick message to let him know you are clocking off and going to his department first. it is one of those rare days where you two have managed to organise a date–just a quick and simple dinner before heading home since your shifts end at the same time, but a date nonetheless.

“good thing i caught you before you left. doctor nam wants to talk to you.”

you look up to see dr. lee already changed into a puffer jacket and his backpack on, a cheeky grin on his face as he delivers the message and adds, “bet you’re in trouble.”

scoffing playfully, you quip back, “probably for something you did wrong.”

he shrugs exaggeratedly and sing-songs, “who knows,” before darting away with a goodbye.

you sigh and delete your drafted text to hongjoong, alerting him that you will be going to the department head’s office and for him to meet you outside if he finishes. then with heavy steps, you go to find dr. nam. with your stroke of luck, dr. lee is probably right about you being in trouble for something.

and he is right.

“did you tell one of your interns that he wasn’t ready for a clinical task in front of your patients?”

dr. nam’s direct question the moment you step into his office is enough to stun your mind into blankness at how a situation could be wrongfully warped like so. blinking distractedly you start to explain, “doctor lim was tasked with simulating the correct needle placement against the skin–nothing more and nothing less. i had to reiterate those expectations when he–”

“so he was not allowed to insert the central line, correct?” dr. nam interrupts.

you frown involuntarily and parrot, “allowed? it was not a subjective decision to–”

“doctor l/n, you only need to answer the question that i ask. was doctor lim allowed to insert the central line or not?” he interjects yet again.

you barely manage to swallow the rising heat in your chest to answer, “no.”

“you said he was not ready in front of the patient, yes or no?”

“yes.”

dr. nam leans back in his chair. “have your other interns inserted the needle before?”

despite his position as your department head, you keep your mouth shut in defiance because dr. nam is simply fishing for the answer he wants to hear regardless of context. he does not need to hear that dr. lim is a shit intern–all he wants to hear is that you are treating your juniors differently.

as expected, without waiting for your response, dr. nam states, “there have been some…concerns raised that you are not giving your interns equal opportunities.”

“is that what doctor lim told you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“you do not need to know,” he dismisses thoughtlessly, “the point is, there seems to be a bias in the amount of support and guidance you are providing doctor lim. perhaps it is your lack of teaching and provision of learning opportunities that is hindering his full potential.”

struggling to keep your voice polite as frustration quickens your breaths, you defend, “i have taught him the theory numerous times, allowed him to observe, provided him with supervised mannequin practice and step-by-step grading on actual patients, and my experience as a senior resident and his direct supervisor tells me that he does not yet have the competency to insert a central line.”

dr. nam hums as if he is considering your words but the way he distractedly brushes the dust off the surface of his table tells you otherwise. “i see there are differing opinions. this all comes down to miscommunication and lack of clear expectations set from the both of you. i suggest you take some time to sit down and talk to doctor lim about what opportunities he will have moving forward.”

from behind your back, your hands clench together, muscles quivering from how hard your fingers dig into your palms. yet you do not say anything–you cannot say anything, not when dr. nam simply dismisses you with, “i expect there to be no further issues in the future.”

and just like that, the one-sided discussion is over.

your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.

you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.

if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.

some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smiles before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.

you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”

you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”

“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”

“oh.”

the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.

“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.

you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.

it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.

you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.

the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.

by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.

you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.

you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.

“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.

your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”

despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.

“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”

your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”

san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”

“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”

you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.

the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.

“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”

you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.

“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”

your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.

nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.

swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”

a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.

mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.

“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”

sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”

you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”

“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.

an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”

another white lie.

before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.

then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.

a third white lie.

but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.

winter passes and spring arrives, but contrary to the pulsating liveliness that awakens with the season, things start to dull with repetition and roboticism.

your rotation in the paediatric oncology ward comes to an end and you commence your next rotation in paediatric haematology. whilst your acquaintanceship with your new junior team is nowhere near as close as you had gotten to dr. lee, son and yang, there is also no more dr. lim to deal with. still, unlike the snow that has now long melted away, your workload does not cease nor diminish.

you wake up and you go to work; you manage your patients, teach your juniors and have on-call shifts; you go home, you eat, you shower; you squeeze time to see your boyfriends, you sleep for a few hours; you wake up and you go to work. the cycle repeats itself, neither you nor your boyfriends able to escape from its grip.

seolhee, too, suffers from the torment of her own cycle. second-line therapy had eventually been deemed ineffective against her leukemic cells, requiring her to undergo salvage chemotherapy and putting her at increased risk of myelosuppression. because of this, she is one of the few patients who have remained on your caseload despite the rotation change.

the most unsettling change that the toll of fatigue can have on a person is not the change in their demeanour but in their eyes. and as you complete a routine check-up on seolhee, her eyes watching you with a slight dullness to them that is not due to the late hours of midnight, you do not realise that your own pupils look the same.

you give seolhee a soft smile as you tell her, “i’ll get nurse hwa to check on you in the morning. how does that sound, snowflake?”

“he’s busy?” she asks quietly.

you shake your head. “he’s at home. both him and nurse woo are working day shifts this week.”

“what about doctor choi?”

“he finished his haematology rotation,” you sigh regretfully. “he’s in the NICU now.”

seolhee mulls over the information with her eyes downcast, then murmurs, “are you busy? can you teach me how to braid your hair?” she absent-mindedly touches the nape of her neck where her fingertips meet the smooth skin of her bare scalp. “that way i can braid my own hair when it grows back.”

you still have notes from today to write and tomorrow’s chemotherapy doses to confirm with the pharmacy and platelet orders to put through before you can chance an hour or two of sleep. but what difference does the amount of sleep make when you wake up from both with the same bone-deep exhaustion anyway?

seolhee’s eyes brighten the slightest when you pull a chair up beside her bed and it solidifies your decision to answer, “of course,” because as a doctor, time is not for yourself but for other people. you have to make time out of nothing.

you tug on the elastic around your ponytail and shake your hair out, sectioning off the right side to work with. from your experience teaching all of your boyfriends, it had quickly become clear that braiding was easiest learnt with less hair to work with. splitting the sectioned hair into three locks, you lace them through your fingers to keep them separate as you talk seolhee through the steps.

“take the right strand and bring it over into the middle like this,” you teach, moving your fingers deftly but slowly. “then take the left strand and bring it over into the middle. then we repeat it again–right into the middle, left into the middle.”

your fingers continue weaving the locks of hair over and under, the motions familiar and the memory of teaching somebody else even more so. when you have braided almost to the ends of your hair, you release the braid then tuck your chair closer to the bed so that seolhee can reach easily.

“here, you try.”

at your encouragement, the little girl does as she remembers and starts to section off three locks of hair. her fingers accidentally tug too hard when she encounters a knot and you both rush to apologise.

“sorry, my hair is kind of tangled,” you chuckle lowly as heat rushes to the tip of your ears. “i haven’t used conditioner in a long time.”

“that’s okay. me neither,” seolhee jokes, giggling at her own words before asking you, “why not?”

you distractedly run your fingers through the hair that is not in seolhee’s hands as you slowly answer, “it saves me five minutes each time. it doesn’t sound like a lot, but…”

“...in the hospital it’s a lot,” seolhee finishes solemnly.

you nod. “five minutes can be a long hug before someone leaves forever. it can be somebody’s last confession or last promise. five minutes can be the difference between life and death.”

hush settles over her room while she eases the knot apart, six-year-old fingers gentle with the understanding of an adult several times her age. after a few minutes, she changes the topic. “who was the fastest learner out of your boyfriends? was it nurse hwa?”

“it was actually doctor jeong,” you reveal.

“from general surgery?”

you laugh at seolhee’s memory, “yes, doctor jeong from general surgery. he has the steadiest and most skillful hands.”

“are his braids also the prettiest, then?”

“they are very pretty, but i think doctor choi–the younger choi–does the prettiest braids.”

seolhee’s fingers pause so she can admire the beginnings of her handiwork. “do they still braid your hair?” she asks.

“not anymore,” you give a miniscule shrug. “there isn’t as much time to do things like this and certain things just lose their novelty over time.”

she looks at you curiously. “what does novelty mean?”

“something new and unfamiliar…in a sense, special.”

“why do things lose their novelty then?” seolhee frowns.

you hum, unsure how to answer such a simple yet riveting question when you yourself have never thought about it. you deliberate over your words, “i guess when we see, do and say things that were originally different over and over again, they can simply become habits and part of our routines. we do things just for the sake of doing them and eventually they lose their meaning. when that happens, sometimes you just end up not doing them anymore.”

wistful nostalgia fills you as seolhee continues braiding your hair, the ticklish intimacy sending your mind adrift to a time when your boys would do the same–back to a time when your hair was smooth and knot-free because you still used conditioner. but change is inevitable and you have no time to dwell on what used to be. so after seolhee finishes her braid, you return to your cycle of work, home and sleep.

by the time you get home in the afternoon, most of your boyfriends have long left for their shifts save for san, who was also on-call, and yunho, who is still not back from an emergency trauma surgery. you are barely able to keep your eyes open when you stumble into the bathroom for a quick shower. this time, you completely forgo both conditioner and shampoo, simply wetting your hair as you roughly scrub your face and the rest of your body. you do not bother to dry your hair either, keeping it wrapped in a towel before you sink into bed.

you have no recollection of falling asleep when the soft click of the front door opening and closing wakes you up. eyes still closed, you drowsily listen to yunho’s soft thuds and murmurs as he treads his usual path through the house upon returning. your boyfriend pads softly to the dining room, to the bathroom…then he goes straight to his own bedroom.

no longer do you stay within the clutches of rest. yunho has always, no matter how exhausted, taken time to give you and the others a kiss before he heads to sleep. it is his habit, his routine. you lay awake for a long time, coming up with excuses as to why he has broken his cycle today, waiting to see if yunho will get up again and come into your room.

he does not and you eventually fall asleep again in restless fitfulness.

this will soon become the new norm; yunho will not take an extra five minutes to go into your bedrooms and give you tender kisses. in due time, your heart will no longer clench in disappointment nor will you lay awake in false hope whenever he returns from his shift.

you will simply drift back into the realms of unconsciousness seconds after hearing the click of the front door open, succumbing into peaceful sleep again before the door has even closed shut. after all, things lose their novelty over time.

you do not normally watch dramas or tv shows, or anything that requires a recurring time commitment, really. for one, that is hours upon hours of time that could be used elsewhere, and two, the scattered time you can find here and there is so sparse you often forget the events of the last episode by the time you watch the next.

but your fingers currently hover over the first episode of an airing drama, one too many clips of this particular show having appeared on your feed for you not to crack, so you decide to give it a go. you can watch maybe half an episode before you should head to sleep since your shift starts early tomorrow, but maybe, just maybe, tonight you will spoil yourself with the entire episode.

keeping the volume low on your phone since you are in the living room with a few of your boyfriends, you tuck your feet closer towards yourself on the couch and play the first episode. jongho’s ears perk up at the starting sounds of the introduction from where he is in the kitchen reheating some leftovers and he comments, “it’s been a while since you last watched something.”

you nod just as jongho’s words catch the attention of wooyoung walking past. “you’re starting a drama?” he asks, peering at your phone with a slight snicker. “damn, you’re going to spend even less time with us now.”

it is an off-handed joke with no ill intentions, yet it digs itself uncomfortably inside your chest, even more so when a few of the others also chuckle. your finger twitches to stop your episode. the couch sinks beside you under the weight of mingi, who has moved from his position on the floor to your right with quiet comfort and veiled protectiveness.

“we’ve all been spending less time with one another,” he vaguely points out.

hongjoong looks up from the systematic review he is reading on gene replacement therapy, still rushing to complete his presentation. “you’re right. that’s funny,” he remarks, “i can’t remember the last time we went out on dates, even when just any two of us.”

wooyoung shrugs, “we’ve all been tired.”

your mouth opens before you can stop yourself from snapping, “so why was i the only one who was the butt of the joke?”

“woah, sorry,” hongjoong winces slightly, “we didn’t know it would make you feel upset or anything.”

it is not sadness so much as guilt that pricks at your conscience, because there is slight truth to the situation–you haven’t been making as much effort, but neither has anyone. you are not the one drifting away from the others. you are all drifting apart in your own directions.

jongho steps in to smoothen the situation with a blanket statement, “we’ve all been tired and busy. nobody’s pointing fingers at anybody. drop it.” the microwave sounds and he turns to take his food out.

something is pressed into your hand and you glance down to see mingi wordlessly handing you a set of earphones. he gives you a small smile, nudging your hand with the earphones and a beckon of his brows. you return his smile and place one in your ear before offering him the other. mingi puts it in whilst reaching over to hold your phone in your stead, then taps his own shoulder with his free hand for you to rest your head against.

your boyfriend adjusts the volume higher as he murmurs, “it’s a bit hard to hear,” but you know better. mingi does not care for dramas and the volume is already plenty loud. sometimes, additional noise is just needed to drown out other noise.

the drama continues to play but you heed no attention to it. wooyoung has walked back into his room to finish the lecture he is watching, jongho now sits at the dining table to eat, and hongjoong is working on his presentation again.

the conversation with your boyfriends has ended with the conclusion that there have been no dates recently. yet, there is no extension of the conversation to make a date happen. it would be a lie to say that you have not noticed their absence, but after the first couple of times they had to be postponed or called off entirely, they just started slipping from your mind completely.

you wonder when you had all stopped making the intentional effort to go on dates, but most of all, you wonder when you had all stopped caring.

you only watch half an episode that night. you do not pick it back up again either.

she is alive.

there is a webbing of tubes and wires encasing her entire body–blood transfusions, vasopressors, monitoring lines of all sorts–but she is alive. kim seolhee is still alive.

only at the physical sight of her chest moving up and down does the reassurance unlock the tautness in your joints, the strained muscles in your body almost failing to hold your weight upright as you lean subtly against the threshold of the door.

you had headed straight for seolhee’s room before everything else the moment you had arrived for your shift. the usual fifteen-minute drive to the hospital had been shortened to half its time when mingi had arrived home from his shift just as you were getting ready to leave for yours with the news that seolhee had been readmitted into the ED with sepsis and was now in the paediatric intensive care unit. you had driven on autopilot the entire way swallowing the thick surge of panic that kept rising up your throat despite mingi’s repeated reassurances that she was stable; she just needed further monitoring.

“i thought i was going to die.”

those are the first words that faintly leave her lips when she sees you, her face mercifully free of a ventilator and oxygen mask, which is always a good sign. you weakly breathe out, tone as light as you can make it, “well, thank god you’re alive.”

“missed you too much, doctor snowflake,” seolhee’s hand twitches in your direction with attempted cheekiness as you walk closer. “i came back to follow you to your next rotation.”

despite the situation, you break out into a small bout of giggles at her morbid humour. you had sated seolhee’s curiosity by telling her your entire year of scheduled rotations and by some twist of fate, your PICU rotation had commenced two weeks ago. with a fond tap of her nose that conceals the clenching sadness inside your heart, you joke, “you just like riding in the ambulance, don’t you?”

“maybe,” she grins innocently. “the sirens are pretty cool.”

despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, her answer is what truly makes your throat constrict and voice waver. your words are hardly audible–afraid to break down fully in front of your patient, in front of sweet seolhee–when you respond, “i knew it.”

but she is ever perceptive as she comforts, “don’t cry.”

“i’m not,” you shamelessly counter, even as heat starts to pool around your eyes, and the both of you laugh at your absurdity. but in certain situations if you do not laugh, the only other option will be to cry and you cannot have that because that would be unprofessional–neither would you be able to stop–so you will wait until you are only in the presence of your boyfriends to let yourself go.

sleep starts to take over seolhee again and she drowsily blinks at you, energy depleted from her infection, cancer and the numerous drugs pumping throughout her battered body. she sinks herself a little deeper into her crinkly mattress and fights off her closing eyelids just long enough to tell you once more, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”

it is already nearing the end of summer now despite the unchanging pristine whiteness of winter within the hospital walls. yet, you cannot bear to point that out, not when you were so close to losing her phrase of affection forever.

her eyes close and you watch the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling. thank god she is alive.

your prayer comes from y/n, but the bitter resentment at the irony of those five words comes from doctor l/n. your entire life is dedicated to saving the lives of others, yet time and time again you are forced to wonder just how much power you truly have as a doctor in the face of fate and the gods above; where it makes you wonder whether your efforts and sacrifices will always be in vain if your patient is somebody whose time on earth has just simply run out.

and it appears that you are not the only person weighed down by the harsh insecurities of your career today. yeosang’s knees are drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them as he sits on the floor against the wall of the storage room you two are hiding in, mere hours later after your turbulent morning with seolhee.

“he was our age,” yeosang finally murmurs after a few minutes of silence. “he was admitted for a suspected brain tumour only because a sudden headache caused him to lose consciousness.”

whereas seolhee had been a case of could have–she could have died–there are cases like yeosang’s patient. the would have lived; the what if and the if only.

yeosang’s chest shudders as he exhales, “he had had consistent migraines for months but he never did anything about them. he would’ve lived, otherwise. turns out it was a brain tumour all along and it ended up rupturing because it was left untreated…he didn’t survive the surgery.”

your boyfriend rarely cries and today is no exception either. yet the way he leans into your side for both physical and emotional support shows just how much his heart is hurting for this death. death is something you all learn to become accustomed to in the medical field, but desensitisation does not equate to immunity. there will always be ones that hit harder than others.

it is a harrowing death when the patient is close in age because it makes you think of yourself–of your friends, of your lovers–and it hurts that much more to think that it could have been any of those people. this morning has already left your emotions strung tight and heart vulnerable, and very quickly you can feel the same swell of tears threatening to demolish the walls you had hastily built to keep yourself collected.

you want to cry but then that would be taking away from yeosang’s hurt, so you will wait until you are home instead. for now, you tug yeosang into your arms, holding him steady against your chest as if that will support your own walls and keep them from crumbling.

by the time you get home after your shift, you are no more than a mere husk of yourself. you have drained every single reservoir of yours that holds your love, care and courage for your patients. all that is left are the fragile remnants waiting to break at the slightest touch. you trudge down the corridor to your room, muddled mind trying to recall whether san is home tonight to hold you in your sleep, when you walk past the partially-closed door to seonghwa’s bedroom.

instinctively, you glance inside. he lays listlessly on his bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and you immediately know.

where there are the could haves and the would haves, there are also the should haves; the unjust, the young deaths. those that should not even be an existing phenomenon in the world no matter how cruel the devil may be–those who should have lived.

seonghwa, who wears his entire heart on his sleeve, has lost a PICU baby at work today.

for a split second, there is a shameful thought that suddenly infiltrates your mind–to continue walking past as if you had not seen him until you reach the confines of your own room. but you could never do that to any of your boyfriends, much less seonghwa. seonghwa, who treats each and every baby like his own, who hides in the bathroom to cry after he sees the parents hurting, whose love and empathy is a never-ending fountain of supply.

you knock softly on the door so as not to startle him then gently call out his name. it takes the door opening a little wider for him to realise you are stepping into his room and he immediately sits up, a small smile gracing his face at the sight of you despite the blotchiness of his skin.

“sorry, love. i didn’t notice you standing there,” he apologises.

you shake your head, heart clenching at the sight of him pretending to be okay. you walk closer to him until you can smooth down the back of his hair with kind hands. “do you want to talk?” you tenderly ask.

the tension releases in seonghwa’s shoulders and back as he sags, no longer keeping up his facade at the knowledge that you can see right through him. he looks up at you tiredly with his swollen eyes, “do you have time to talk?”

time you can always make. perhaps the question that should be asked is whether you have the capacity to talk…the emotional capacity. frankly, you do not. you yourself need to cry, whether for seolhee or out of mental exhaustion itself it does not matter anymore. but saying no would be putting your needs before his, and putting your needs after everybody else’s is all that you have known as a doctor, so you will wait until you are alone in the darkness under your bed covers to finally let yourself go.

for now, you rest seonghwa’s head in your lap and brush away his tears, soaking up the pain of his words into your own heart instead. only when his breathing evens out and he no longer stirs under your fingers do you finally ease yourself to lie down next to him, barely hanging on to the edges of your own consciousness. you fall asleep before your tears can even begin to gather underneath your closed eyelids.

that night, you dream of drowning–stifling lungs and gasping mouthfuls–until you eventually suffocate in silence and become swallowed by the black depths of the water. the pillow underneath your cheek is damp when you jolt awake, but whether it is from cold sweat or tears you do not know.

you are convinced dr nam’s job description includes making your life hell. no matter where your rotation takes place, the department head always manages to find fault in something you do…or do not do.

“do you know what our hospital prides itself in?” dr. nam asks rhetorically. “we are not simply a hospital–we are a family. we help each other out in times of need.”

there is a rising snort in your throat that threatens to reveal your cynicism, knowing that when the phrase ‘family’ comes from somebody of higher authority, it is just a cover-up of mock care for the employees. dr. nam continues to smile, not unkindly, but with obvious artificiality that makes it look dangerous as he asks, “so how come you are not helping out in the NICU? i know that the attending has asked you for help.”

overnight on-call shifts already have fewer staff rostered on than usual, but with one of the junior residents having called in sick, the NICU is currently understaffed. the attending physician had paged you earlier asking if you could help out with some of the routine admissions and write up the patient histories and physicals, but you had apologised and declined. for one, you are assigned to the PICU, two, you are the most senior resident on that shift and three, you have endless tasks with far higher priority to complete instead.

you struggle to keep the exasperation out of your voice, sick of being flagged for ridiculous reasons and much less when you are seventeen hours into your shift, “most of the NICU admissions were stable and did not require urgent attention. their H&Ps can be completed later when the juniors are back.”

“ah,” dr. nam nods his head condescendingly, “doctor l/n, you stick by the rules too much. where is your sense of comradeship for this family that we have at kq–if not the entire hospital, then at least within our own department? if i remember correctly, there was a similar incident with one of your past interns.”

it is absolutely ridiculous that even months later you are still being faulted for the central line incident with dr. lim. you stay silent, expression dark and jaw grinding no matter how hard you try not to let your frustration show. 

“go help out in the NICU for an hour or two. i’m sure your own unit is relatively quiet right now,” he instructs. “remember, we’re a family that helps one another.” dr. nam’s grin grows wider, words dripping with saccharine honey that makes it impossible to refute.

“yes, doctor nam,” you respond through gritted teeth. double-checking you have your pager on you so that your actual ward can still reach you for emergencies, you take the elevator down to the NICU.

the next few hours are spent stretching yourself thin over both units as you run back and forth managing patients, answering questions, and most irritatingly, completing tasks that should really be allocated to juniors. it is not until you dazedly mistype the same word four times into the EMR that it registers in your groggy mind that it is already early in the morning, past the quiet time that is your usual window for a brief hour of sleep.

you inhale slowly until your chest is full then let out the longest sigh, your head tilted upwards, eyes closed and shoulders slouching as the world’s worth of resignation weighs down on you. it is 5:30AM, only five more hours–or three if you are lucky–left until the end of your shift. keeping your eyes shut for another few seconds, you recollect yourself to make it through the morning.

a resident appears in front of you, seemingly chipper as he stretches his arms above his head and jokes to a passing nurse that he had an amazing nap in the call room. the brief composure you had gathered immediately dissipates when you hear him. not only have you sacrificed your own sleep to help a unit that is not your own, but there are NICU residents who have taken the liberty to nap instead.

that’s it. you have done multitudes more than your duty requires you to do so. greeting the well-rested resident with a passive-aggressive smile, even if you are aware he is not at fault, you bid your farewell with the instruction, “tell your attending that doctor l/n has gone back to her own unit now.”

you punch the elevator’s number to your floor a little harder than intended, grateful that there is nobody else inside to hear your loud exhale of weariness and defeat. the floor display slowly flickers with higher numbers. maybe being back in the PICU will give you peace of mind.

the elevator doors open to directly reveal a ruckus beside the nursing station. “fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, finally letting a curse slip through. “what now?”

“what do you mean you’re not a doctor?” a shrill voice cuts through the noise of the small huddle of people as you walk closer.

“i am a nurse, mrs ryeo, not a doctor,” somebody answers.

you could recognise his voice anywhere–it is wooyoung. your exasperation quickly turns into concern and you ease yourself through a few nurses so that you can reach your boyfriend.

mrs ryeo states, “but you’re a man.”

“that is an excellent observation, but unfortunately, that does not change my job qualifications.” despite wooyoung’s innate cheek, it does not usually appear when he is dealing with parents or the occasional adult patient, which tells you that this woman is either a repeating offender or has been kicking up a fuss for some time now.

“hello, mrs ryeo,” you intercept, stepping over to wooyoung’s side. “how can i help you?”

the middle-aged lady scans you up and down with disdain before scoffing, “i don’t want a nurse; i want a doctor.”

your patience has long been running on thin ice and if you did not care about your career, you would turn around, walk two steps away, then twirl around with a curtsey whilst introducing yourself as doctor l/n just to fuck with her. at least wooyoung would laugh.

unfortunately, you do care about your career so you can only explain with a placating smile on your face that you are a doctor–a fourth-year resident at that. mrs ryeo ignores you in favour of rudely pointing and beckoning behind you. “hey, you,” she demands, “see my child.”

a glance over your shoulder reveals that she has pointed to one of your male interns. he does not make a move to step forward, warily gesturing back towards you as he explains, “she’s the senior resident on call right now.”

“i don’t want a fucking resident. i want a real doctor,” she opposes.

“mrs ryeo,” you grit your teeth, “he is my intern. i am a doctor–the most senior doctor currently on shift–”

“bullshit you’re the most senior doctor. i refuse to let you treat my child. i want a male doctor.”

your fingers flutter out to grasp the side of wooyoung’s scrubs, partially to ground yourself, but also because you know that he will not stand there and let you be disrespected. however, there is absolutely no way any of you will be able to talk some sense into her, so it is better to just save your breaths. “dr. ahn will not be in until this afternoon,” you simply state.

“then i’ll wait,” she snaps stubbornly.

you nod, “as you wish. i’ll let him know.” you walk away and the nurses take that as their cue to disperse and continue with their duties now that the situation has been somewhat diffused. 

wooyoung follows you aside to where there are less people. “you okay?” he asks, searching your eyes.

with a dismissive shrug you answer, “you get used to it,” then change the topic to gently remind, “document it on the EMR that she refused to be seen and then fill out an incident report.”

wooyoung nods but continues to look at you unconvinced. “do you finish at seven today? i’ll wait for you,” he offers.

“no,” you grimace, “i probably have to wait until the morning rounds are over. you go home first.” a soft laugh escapes from you when your boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together and you reassure, “i’m fine, really. i should get back to work. i’ll see you at home, woo.”

you turn around before his expression or any further questions can weaken your resolve. from somewhere near the nursing station, you know that mrs ryeo is still staring at you scathingly. breaking down now in any shape or form would only serve to fuel her misogynistic prejudices. so you hold your head up high, pretend that this is just any other day, then continue with the remainder of your shift telling yourself that nothing can make you break.

it is nearing eleven in the morning by the time you get home. your feet mechanically take you to your doorstep and your hands slide the cover of the keypad lock upwards to tap in the number code, mind dissociated from your heart and the rest of your body. like water and hot oil, you keep them separated, otherwise dwelling on how they feel together will inevitably lead to a sudden outburst of emotion.

you feel yourself being dragged back to your senses, automatically tuning in to the rowdiness that increases in volume when you open the door. it is one of those rare sundays where more than half of you are home together. there are shouts of teasing banter, cabinets closing shut and the clink of glassware being washed. vaguely, you can also hear a passionate squabble between two of your boyfriends over something trivial.

whereas before, coming home to your boys would have cooled down your bubbling oil, today they feel like the water you are trying to keep away.

“i swear it wasn’t me,” you hear.

san’s voice is slightly muffled as he teases back, “yeah, whatever you say, yunho.”

you slowly walk into the open living room from where you can also see the kitchen. the countertop surface is covered with plastic bags, groceries for nine spilling out from them as jongho systematically pulls the cold items out to hand them over to san. said boyfriend has his body halfway inside the fridge whilst yunho holds the door open by leaning on it with his weight.

“it’s true! i didn’t drink any this week,” yunho defends himself. “y/n didn’t buy them!”

you falter at the mention of your name. without the context of the conversation, you are suddenly left wondering whether you had messed something up.

“speak of the devil,” yeosang announces, spotting you as he returns from the bathroom. he comes up and gives you quick squeeze in greeting.

yunho perks up at the sight of you. “perfect! let me prove it to you,” he tells san. determined to attest his supposed innocence over something that you still do not know what, your tallest boyfriend turns to face you and asks, “did you restock our protein shakes last week?”

you frown with an unintelligent stutter as you try to recall the sudden information. last week, you had gone out to get some fresh groceries but had suddenly been called in for a shift, so you had had to give up on everything you did not deem as essential. san and yunho’s shakes, unfortunately, did not make the cut.

“no, i–”

“see!” yunho exclaims, whipping around to face san again before you can finish the rest of your sentence. his tone is triumphant as he reiterates, “i told you it was y/n who was the culprit, not me!”

san chuckles with fondness at the other, “okay, you’re forgiven.”

a bitter taste immediately spreads throughout your mouth along with the flaming heat that now covers your cheeks. you cannot tell whether it is anger or embarrassment–perhaps both–but it feels as though the water you have been holding off has suddenly been poured over you.

“why didn’t you go buy them yourself, then, if you knew i didn’t,” you question yunho curtly.

he looks at you with a grin, “because you were meant to buy them and then i didn’t have time to go.” his words are stated as a matter-of-factly with absolutely no intentions to insinuate anything apart from his reasons as to why he did not buy the protein shakes himself.

but you do not hear yunho and his playfulness that you normally indulge in–you hear dr. nam instead belittling your time and you also hear mrs ryeo with her condescending contempt, and now that you are no longer at work, you fail to reign yourself in. you snap before you even realise how heated your words are, “yeah, and i have all the time in the world.” you throw out sarcastically, “next time, why don’t i also mix your shakes, wait on my knees and hold the straw up to your lips while you drink them during your workouts.”

your boyfriends stare at you with wide eyes, silence deafening after the near-shout your voice had risen to by the end of your sentence. you let out a shaky exhale, suddenly sober. you no longer bubble and boil inside, emotions down to a simmer now, but still they remain unsteady and suddenly leave you with overwhelming exhaustion.

“sorry,” you mutter under your breath, “forget i said anything.”

pivoting on the balls of your feet, you escape to your own bedroom, ignoring the concern on wooyoung’s face from where he has woken up and stuck his head out of his own room at the commotion. you shut your door and then sit heavily on the edge of your bed, elbows resting on your knees and head buried in your hands.

“fuck,” you hiss, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes to stop yourself from crying. you are so frustrated–at everything that has happened today, at how you reacted, at the fact that you cannot seem to understand what you are feeling or what you want anymore.

you are going to have to talk to your boyfriends and apologise later, but for now, you just need to be alone.

only a few minutes pass before there is a soft knock on your bedroom door. you make no move to acknowledge the sound. neither do you make a noise of rejection though, so the boyfriend outside your door takes it as his cue to walk in.

“y/n?” he calls out hesitantly.

at the sound of his voice, you immediately look up. it is yunho looking like a kicked puppy, unable to bear any sort of conflict between any of you no matter how big or small the matter. you stand up but stay close to your bed. your heart wants to tug you closer towards your boyfriend yet your feet stay glued to their spot.

“y/n…” he starts again, “i–sorry, i didn’t mean for you to feel as though i was blaming you.”

you shake your head, “it’s fine, i know you didn’t.”

“that still doesn’t change the fact that i hurt you,” yunho expresses, taking a step closer towards you.

“no, i should be the one apologising–sorry. what i said to you was completely uncalled for,” you admit.

“hey, no. i didn’t come for an apology,” he looks at you with rounded eyes, now close enough to grasp you gently by your arms. yunho’s voice is soft as he says, “i’m worried about you. you don’t normally lash out like that…what’s wrong?”

everything.

“nothing,” you answer, avoiding his gaze.

he continues to probe, “are you sure? is it something to do with work?” when you remain quiet, he starts to guess, “...or is it us–”

“it’s work,” you cut him off before he can turn his words into a real question. “work has been tiring. i just–give me a bit of time.” you pat yunho’s hand placatingly, subtly easing your arms out of his grasp at the same time. you do not deserve his affection right now.

he fumbles awkwardly, unease stringing his body tight as his eyes scan yours. “we’ll talk later then?” he eventually concludes, verbally reaching out one more time to see if you want to take it.

“later,” you confirm softly, a small smile gracing your lips that does not reach the rest of your face. “i’m going to catch up on some sleep now.”

“ah, right. you were on call. sleep well then,” yunho concedes. he walks out of your room, gingerly closing the door behind him.

you have barely grabbed a fresh set of pajamas and underwear to quickly rinse yourself in the shower when there is another knock on your door. it takes a lot of energy not to sigh but to open the door instead where you discover san and jongho standing in the corridor with twin expressions of concern.

“did yunho talk things out with you?” san asks as jongho simultaneously says, “how are you feeling?”

you know that they have good intentions checking up on you, but you really just want to be left alone. your own thoughts and emotions are already equivalent to a crowd themselves. “yeah, yunho and i are fine. i’m fine, just tired. thanks for asking and sorry for shouting earlier,” you apologise, because you owe them that much at the very least. then you try and dismiss them before they can ask anything else, “a shower and some sleep will do me good.”

they glance down when you lift up your hand and they see the clothes you hold. jongho knows better than to push, so he places his own hand on san’s back in silent meaning whilst answering on their behalf, “you’re right. we’ll let you sleep. do you want us to wake you up for dinner?”

you smile a little more genuinely but still shake your head. “i’ll eat something before i leave for work tomorrow.”

although san has a lot to say to that, he holds his tongue and lets himself be guided back to the kitchen with jongho’s hand still on him. “let her have some time alone first. she’ll eat if she’s hungry,” the younger reassures him and san can only nod and hope that rest is all that you need. he cannot shake off the feeling that there is much more to it than you are letting on.

you hop into the shower, rinse and dry off and brush your teeth within ten minutes. sleep is your only reprieve now–the only time you do not need to think or feel–and you rush through your routine before you can start coming to conclusions about the whats and whys to the problems in your life. finishing up in the bathroom you go back to your own room, startling when you open the door and are greeted by the sight of wooyoung waiting on your bed.

“you okay?” he asks as soon as he sees you.

annoyance starts to grind your gears no matter how hard you try to remind yourself that your boyfriends are purely looking out for you. but concern has its limits before it starts to become overbearing and when they keep asking one after the other, you are unable to appreciate their efforts.

“i’m fine,” you respond tersely, words no longer genuine after how many times you have repeated them to questions you have heard on loop.

“are you sure? i know you had a rough day at work with mrs ryeo and–”

“wooyoung,” you finally interrupt, “just drop it. please.”

his expression falls and you immediately regret your words. but what’s done is done and the list of people you are hurting today only seems capable of growing–what is one more person on the list? wooyoung stands up and leaves your room with a quiet, sorry, and you do nothing to stop him.

hearing the door shut behind you, you walk over to where the curtains are pulled aside to let the afternoon sunlight of autumn filter in. all the curtains in the bedrooms are blackout curtains, the first additions to the apartment from day one of your careers. you draw them closed, shutting out the sunlight and plunging your room into darkness.

at last, you slide into bed. the screen of your phone lights up as you plug it into your charger and you find a text from yeosang and one from seonghwa just a few minutes ago, but you do not open them. you clear your notifications before you can even read the previews and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’. making sure your alarm is set for tomorrow’s shift, you switch the screen off and shove it under your pillow.

you close your eyes. you have a long list of people to work things out with before you can truly say that you are fine. but there is one thing you fail to realise as you finally fall asleep. the name at the very top of the list is not one of your boyfriends’–

it is your own.

the incident ends up being swept under the rug. you wake up that next morning an hour before your first alarm goes off, lying in the muted hours of dawn before the world starts to stir with the shadows on the ceiling of your bedroom twisting and warping like creatures.

your entire body is filled with an inexplicable sense of dread at the thought of the day ahead. it is not solely due to what happened yesterday between you and your boyfriends. there are a multitude of contributing factors but frankly, you fear dwelling on them and finding out just what percentage of your anxiety stems from the boys. unable to fall asleep and not entirely ready to face anybody yet, you decide to leave for your shift early.

the drive to the hospital feels particularly dystopian today. no matter what season the streets transition into over the year–regardless of the brilliant vibrance of autumn that has blanketed the ground for the last two months–it unfailingly turns back into the perpetual state of sterile winter once you are inside the hospital. it has never been something that you have dwelled on, but now it seems to be the truest reflection of your current self–a mere utopian facade hiding what is inside your walls.

you return nurse aeri’s enthusiastic greeting upon walking into the PICU with chirpiness that your weekend was great. you gasp with animated reactions at the story little siwoo tells you when you reach his room during your morning rounds. you comfort mr and mrs chae with graceful compassion and warm smiles when you tell them their daughter can finally be discharged. not a single person would look at you and think that something is wrong, and yet, you feel like you are simply a ghost of your emotions, detached and distant from your own words and actions. not even the news of seolhee stabilising enough to be transferred out of the PICU back to the paediatric oncology ward gives you the same genuine spike in emotions you would have felt a week ago.

the brief encounters with seonghwa around the unit and the brief glimpses of san and wooyoung around the department do nothing to alleviate your blanket of anxiety because they are a visual and physical reminder of the cavernous pit in your stomach. you end up going home after your shift with a tightness in your chest that has gradually become suffocating at the thought of being confined in the same space as your boyfriends, wondering if they are expecting you to talk to them; the conversation you had brushed off yesterday.

you are not ready yet and you do not want to talk, so instead you do what you do best–walk through the threshold of your front door with a plastered expression of neutrality as though nothing has happened the day before. but to your surprise–whether pleasant or bitter, however contradictory that may be, you cannot tell–they too appear to skirt around the issue.

there is a restless buzz in the air as yunho portions dinner out into separate bowls for those who are at home. hongjoong is hunched over his laptop with concentration at the dining table as usual, zeroed in on his presentation even amongst the bustle of yeosang and jongho setting the cutlery around him, but the jitters in his legs tell you differently. when he spots you walking closer, he shuts his laptop and places it to the side to greet you.

“seonghwa made ramen bulgogi for us before he left,” he tells you while you wash your hands at the sink and peer into the pot yunho is holding.

you gingerly slide into the seat across from hongjoong, watching yeosang dawdling in the kitchen as if he is trying to find something to keep himself busy with. “i thought he wasn’t rostered on for night shift today,” you absentmindedly comment.

jongho places your bowl of ramen in front of you and sits to your right as he answers, “he had to cover for one of the other nurses.”

you nod, waiting for the two in the kitchen. yunho comes to sit on your other side at the head of the table and yeosang beside hongjoong, their bowls placed down with a clunk that leads to silence in conversation.

“how’s your presentation going?” yunho vaguely asks hongjoong after a few minutes.

the older picks at his meat in his bowl, “it’s going alright. i only have the limitations and future directions for neurological gene therapies left to research.”

there is another lull in conversation before jongho asks, “did your surgeries go smoothly today?”

yunho nods, “i led a couple of trauma surgeries today. only one of them ended up going overtime.”

“you’re going to surpass the other doctors soon, doctor jeong from general surgery,” you tease slightly.

the boys share a few chuckles before the table falls silent once more and you can only hear the occasional slurp of noodles or clatter of chopsticks against the bowl. you glance at hongjoong, who is scratching the back of his neck, then at yeosang, whose gaze you can see darting around his bowl like he is avoiding eye contact. shifting your weight slightly in your chair, you suddenly start to realise why they are all acting so awkwardly.

it is not that your boyfriends are trying to skirt around yesterday’s fallout–if you can call it that–like you are. instead, they are waiting for you to be the one initiating the conversation so that they know for sure you are ready to have the conversation. the sentiment is appreciated but it does nothing to stop your muscles from clamming up even further.

the thought of talking and even just thinking about why you are feeling the way you are is enough to overwhelm you entirely again. it is much easier to simply pretend you are okay than to face the problems head on, because then you have to actually acknowledge that something is wrong. but you know that it is not just one issue but several things exacerbating one another, and just that awareness in itself already makes your insides lurch and clench dangerously. 

there is one sole advantage to your boyfriends’ approach to handling this situation. the timeline of when to talk is left up to you, so you choose the one option they had failed to preempt–not to talk at all. you finish your ramen in silence pretending you do not see the shared glances between the boys, get up to place your dishes into the sink ignoring the gazes that linger on your back, then retreat to your bedroom whilst shoving your emotions into the deepest corners in the back of your mind.

they gave you a choice. you simply made one.

the weeks pass by. you change through another rotation and the beginning of winter arrives once more. the only thing that stays the same is the elephant in the room that remains unaddressed and your lonely fight to keep it that way.

restlessness seeps into every interaction that the boys share with you. it follows you to work, jongho and yunho making excuses to go to your ward just to see what you are doing even though their own wards are on the other side of the hospital. it is in the way san tries to swap himself onto night shifts the days he knows you are working one as well, and in how seonghwa liaises with your colleagues under the guise of his role as the CNS, simply to probe whether you are overexerting yourself or not.

it follows you home too, a constant breathing down your neck in the form of mingi carefully scanning your expression the moment you walk through the door after your shift, and in yeosang hovering within five feet regardless of where you are. wooyoung checks the fridge first thing after coming home, counting the boxes of meal prep to make sure you had taken one to work that day, and hongjoong asks how your day was with the intention of probing further to ask how you are coping. he is not the only one who tries to check and your answer never changes–work was good, you are fine.

gradually, you find yourself trying to avoid their line of sight, ducking behind colleagues on the wards or back into your own bedroom at home. it is easier to pretend that you are okay than to admit that you are not, and when that does not work, to just stay away from your boyfriends completely. you are well aware that avoiding them is not healthy, but smokers too know very clearly the health risks of tobacco yet continue to smoke. just how many things are there in the world that we know are unhealthy for ourselves–physically, mentally, socially–and we still choose to make that decision?

but as with any unhealthy choices, they eventually lead to detrimental consequences. unbeknownst to you, each denial of help causes the string inside of you to wind up tighter and tighter until it becomes taut enough to snap at any moment.

and that is what ends up happening on a wednesday night.

seonghwa and wooyoung are both still at the hospital. by the time they get home after their shifts, it will already nearly be time for dinner, so with everybody’s first preferences for cooks still working, you are the next in line. hongjoong had originally offered to order takeout instead since you had been on call last night, but you had been unable to fall asleep despite how exhausted you felt and you hated being stuck in the limbo state of idleness between rest and non-rest.

“are you sure you don’t want us to just order takeout today?”

“it’s fine, hongjoong,” you respond shortly, “i’ve already started cooking.”

yeosang sits at the countertop separating the kitchen from the open living room and dining area, watching as you make a simple soup and stir-fried dish. you try to ignore his intent staring but it is difficult when his gaze quite literally follows you from cupboard to sink to stove. it is only when he hesitantly asks, “are you okay?” that you realise you have left your expression unschooled, dark frown covering your face.

you force your features to relax and nod, trying not to throw a question back at him asking what he is doing just staring at you. his question catches the attention of san sitting on the couch, who calls out to check up on you, “is something wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong,” you sigh, turning around as if that will help to block them out, aware that your patience for them–for anybody–has started running thin. you idly hum at san’s reminder to ask them for help if you need it despite knowing fully well that having an extra person in the kitchen space would only serve to have the opposite effect to its intended purpose.

jongho passes by behind you to fill up a cup of water at the sink. as he waits, he glances at you stirring the pot before double taking at your expression. he tentatively questions, “you alright? do you want me to help?”

“why do you keep asking me that?” you reply, only half-jokingly. you drive him out with an irritated wave of your hand, “just sit and wait.”

your boyfriends are at least tactful enough to understand they are not to step foot into the kitchen until dinner is cooked, but it does nothing to alleviate the sensation of holes being drilled into the back of your head. you are so focused on ignoring them that you do not realise when seonghwa and wooyoung come home from their shifts.

“hey, love,” seonghwa sidles up to you in the kitchen as you slice some extra spring onions. “how’s your day been?”

as he asks you, he comes up from behind and slides a hand around your hip to rest on it. his touch is habitual–something he always does to you and the boys–but you are tense and on edge. you jerk in surprise, accidentally slicing your finger with the knife. it is only a small cut and absolutely unintentional on your boyfriend’s part, but your fuse finally runs out and you drop the knife with a clatter, whirling around angrily to face him.

“can you fucking stop doing that?” you snap, tone clipped and unkind.

seonghwa flusters, trying to apologise and look at your injury whilst simultaneously jerking backwards in confusion at your hostility. he stutters, “i–y/n, are you okay? i didn’t mean to surprise you–”

“no, that’s not it,” you interrupt, blind to the stinging in your finger. “i mean your fucking questions, and not just from you. all of you.” you lash out at the other boys too who have now stood up and are varying distances from the kitchen. “every single fucking day you ask me if i’m okay. can you please stop that?”

san slowly walks closer until he reaches the countertop that separates the both of you. “y/n,” he calls out to you sadly, your sudden anger uncharacteristic, “we’re just worried about you. we want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“i know you do,” you cry out with exasperation, heat starting to gather behind your eyes, “and i’m trying to be okay, alright? i’m trying for everybody’s sake. but you make it so fucking hard when each and every single one of you keep asking me how i’m feeling as if you want me to fucking break down.”

“that’s not what we’re trying to do,” hongjoong tries to reason with you, but you are unable to rationalise anything in the spur of the moment.

you desperately blink back tears. “i’ve tried to pretend that everything is okay–pushed everything to the back of my mind so that i don’t think about it and hope that it resolves itself…but it’s not working.” you take a shaky breath, lips quivering and voice quieting with every word, “i’m just one person at home and i’m just one person at work. i am so fucking tired all the time.”

“but you aren’t just one person. you can tell us and we can help you.”

you do not even register who says that, because your eyes blur with wetness and your voice increases with frustration, “no, i can’t. when you’re tired, when you’re exhausted, you don’t have the time or the energy to ask for help, much less to fight for yourself. you think i haven’t thought about complaining to you guys and letting myself cry in your arms? or escalating whatever happens at work to the higher-ups? i know what i should do, but it’s all useless.

“when you are about to be caught in an avalanche and buried alive, do you remember to ignore your instincts and run horizontally instead of attempting to outrun it? do you remember to keep your mouth shut to stop yourself from choking on snow? or to use your arms and legs to create air pockets for yourself, or to spit and use its trajectory to work out which way is up and down after you’re disorientated? no, you fucking don’t, because in the moment you can only focus on surviving. there is no time to do anything but that.”

your boyfriends are stunned into silence, not only by the bitter resentment that coats your loud voice and mars your face with furrowed eyebrows, but by the raw confession that tumbles out of your lips. they had known you were tired recently, just not the extent of it.

the tone of your words soften with exhaustion and heartache as you look them in the eyes one by one, “just think about ourselves…things aren’t the same between us anymore, don’t try to deny it. we don’t love each other like we used to. things have changed between us this year–it’s just that nobody has brought it up.” the tears that have pooled around your eyes finally slip down your cheeks. “and you know why? it’s because we’re all just trying to survive now. we don’t have the time or the luxury to do anything but survive.”

there is no thought that can be formulated in response to your words. seonghwa opens his mouth but then shuts it again because he knows you are right. it is ugly, but it is the truth.

having been in a relationship together for over four years now, not even including the turbulent years prior to becoming official when you were all navigating the hardships of medical school, your bonds are built upon the foundation of comfort and understanding. but what happens when that comfort turns into complacency, and understanding turns into indifference? what happens when time runs its course and wears down a relationship?

you avert your eyes downwards, the lines of the kitchen tiles blurry underneath your feet as your vision mists over, afraid to look at the sad gazes of your boyfriends any longer. there is a sudden thump of body colliding against the wall and a muffled curse that draws everybody’s attention, including yours, towards the corridor. mingi’s head snaps upwards with guilty eyes from where he had been trying to slink his way in from the front door unnoticed before accidentally stubbing his toe.

your body makes a split-second decision with the diversion. you push past seonghwa in the kitchen, past san and yeosang at the countertop and mingi by the wall, and past the rest of your boyfriends just standing there, back into the safety of your bedroom. it is from years of muscle memory navigating the apartment that you do not walk head-first into anything despite your vulnerable state, although your boyfriends also step out of your way in stunned stupor.

fumbling for the edge of the door behind you with your hand the moment you walk past the threshold to your bedroom, you step backwards until you are able to push it closed. it shuts with a loud click and then finally, you are alone.

you slowly sink forward to the ground, legs useless as your hands reach out towards the floor to hold yourself up. the world around you continues to blur with wetness, a stinging heat behind your eyes and nose, yet the tears do not fall and you do not cry. your gaze remains unfocused on the spot right beside the leg of your bed, frozen in your own stupor of tangled thoughts and emotions.

time, fucking time. you despise that word with your entire soul. in this world, the ones who are truly rich are not those with endless wealth to spare–the ones who are truly rich are those with endless time to spare.

when was the last time you drank freshly-brewed coffee at a cafe instead of guzzling down the grainy staleness of a rushed instant coffee that has not even been mixed properly? when was the last time you sat down for a knife-and-fork meal with warm food instead of popping a mint into your mouth to stave off your hunger pains for a little longer? when was the last time you went shopping for a pretty dress and a cute pair of matching heels instead of sniffing your scrubs at the end of a shift wondering whether you can postpone the laundry for one more day? when was the last time you used shampoo and conditioner when washing your hair instead of simply rinsing it under the water before your eyes closed on themselves?

they are such simple tasks of everyday life, yet they have now become unattainable luxuries in the face of insufficient time. you deliberately sacrifice the quality of your life to save a few extra minutes here, a few extra minutes there. but no matter how much time you are able to scrape out of thin air, it slips through the cracks of your fingers like fine sand and disappears amongst the people around you. even one spare minute, if you have any leftover after prioritising your patients, must be somehow split between the eight of your boyfriends.

you can save however much time you can, but it will never be enough. you are not enough.

the knotted twist of anxiety that has been distorting your insides for the past few weeks suddenly unravels with shattering clarity as your fears suddenly weigh you down with crushing exhaustion. you cannot even take care of yourself anymore–how can you take care of your boyfriends, much less eight of them? you want everything to just stop, but what exactly ‘everything’ entails, you have no idea.

there is a soft hand on your shoulder squeezing tenderly. it is warm, you idly think to yourself. they murmur, “y/n,” and only when they squeeze you again do you dazedly look up, blinking to clear your vision. mingi’s round eyes gaze at you and you find him kneeling beside your crumpled form on the floor of your bedroom. you have no energy to acknowledge him further than another blink and prolonged eye contact.

he stares at you for a few seconds, eyes full of words that he holds back, before simply asking, “have you showered yet?”

you do not answer, but he had not questioned you with the intention of receiving an answer. he responds for you, “probably, but i doubt you washed your hair. come,” his hand slowly travels down from your shoulder to your smaller hand, “take a shower with me.”

mingi’s gaze does not waver despite the slight narrowing of your eyes that tells him you are tired and unamused. “i stink and i want your company,” he states. then he makes the decision for you and tugs you upwards with him. despite his strength, mingi’s hands are gentle as he holds you, leading you out of your bedroom and into the bathroom instead.

you stand there and let him guide your arms through your jumper so that he can take it off your head. he does the same with your shirt, your pants and with your undergarments, his touch intimate and loving not with sexual desires but with devoted care as if he is afraid you will crack under the slightest of pressures. his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps where they brush against your skin and your eyes close with the softest of sighs, letting yourself relax under your boyfriend’s careful movements.

the bathroom begins to steam up from the spray of hot water and mingi steps you into the shower with him. quietly, he wets your hair and lathers his shampoo into it, sturdy hands massaging the tension out of your scalp and the nape of your neck. you watch the concentration in his creased brows and the water that drips down from his chin falls between your chests. not once does he look at you–only focuses on properly shampooing your hair.

it is only when mingi is rinsing your hair and you are no longer facing him do you pluck up the courage to speak delicately, “why aren’t you asking me if i’m okay?”

he is silent for a few seconds and you feel the slight pause in his hands against your scalp before he continues to run his fingers through your hair. “do you want me to ask?”

once again, you do not answer, but that is an answer in itself.

“plus,” mingi softly murmurs, hands leaving your hair, the click of a bottle cap opening resounding in the echo of the bathroom louder than his voice, “you’ll just say that you’re okay…even though you’re not.”

then the touch of his fingers returns as he teases something cold into your hair from its roots to its ends. almost immediately, you choke up and your expression crumples, lips trembling downwards as your eyebrows furrow, because mingi is putting conditioner in your hair. it is embarrassing that this of all things is what finally marks your breakdown, but mingi does not comment when your shoulders shudder with shaky exhales nor when you fail to hold in a stuttering sob. he lets you cry out your sorrows, pain and fatigue and he simply continues to massage the conditioner into your hair.

mingi simply continues to love you in the way that you did not love yourself.

when your hair is rinsed, only then does he turn you around to face him. under the showerhead with only the comforting tranquility of water pattering against the tiles around the both of you, he softly tilts your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss. it is a slow but simple kiss, lips pressed against yours with a thousand utterances of comfort and reassurances dancing across them.

he gives you one kiss, then another, and another, each one sweeter than the previous despite the salty tracks that run down your cheeks. your hands find their way onto his chest and the steady beat of his heart thrums underneath your palm. mingi rests your foreheads together, your tears falling in solitude with the water and with the tears that fall from inside his heart.

finally, he asks, “is it work?”

you shake your head slightly. “i don’t know.”

“is it us?”

the tears that had slowed down reappear with a strangled sob as you answer truthfully, your fears emerging at least, “i don’t know.”

“that’s okay, you don’t have to know,” he whispers, “and you don’t have to be okay.” he pulls away a little so that he can cradle your jaw with his hands and look into your eyes. “take the day off tomorrow, y/n.”

you do nothing to stop the tears that continue spilling over the bottom of your eyes as you shakily answer, “i don’t have time. my patients need me.”

“you do have time,” mingi counters, thumbing your tears away. “you just haven’t been spending that time on yourself. even doctors get sick, you know.”

“i’m not sick,” you deny.

your boyfriend pulls you into his chest and encases you in a protective embrace. “physically, maybe not. but your mental health is just as important, and sometimes the things that you can’t see inflict more suffering than the things that you can see.”

it is something that you all know and understand, but when you are trapped in a workplace where the mentality revolves entirely around a medical model of physical health, the disparity in value you place between your physical and mental health becomes so deeply ingrained it is almost impossible to change.

“mingi, what if…” you trail off. your boyfriend nuzzles the top of your head with his chin before brushing his lips over the crown of your forehead in encouragement. you swallow thickly to continue, “what if i need time alone?”

mingi pulls away from you once more, slowly so as not to further upset your already-scattered emotions. he looks at you earnestly, considering your words and their meaning–whether he is understanding your undertone correctly and whether this is a genuine request for respite or a spur-of-the-moment cry for reassurance. he watches your eyes flicker back and forth between his own.

“if that’s what you need,” he finally whispers, wrapping you closer in his arms again, “then i’ll support you no matter what.”

he feels your small puff of surprise against his chest and it pierces through his heart like a sword. how he wishes that you would realise that he and any of your other boys would pluck all the stars in the universe’s galaxies if you were to ask for them. but instead, you are asking him in a small and timid voice, “you’re not upset? the others won’t be upset?”

mingi chooses his next words carefully, aware that they could easily be misunderstood but also unwilling to treat you like a child where the world is only full of happy endings. not that you believe that anymore, anyway. “we will be upset,” he gently breaks to you, “but only at the situation that we're in because things have ended up like this before we could even really do anything for you. y/n, we will never be upset at you in this situation, much less upset at the decisions you choose to make. if time is what you need, then take however much time you need.”

you do not have the courage to lift up your head to meet his eyes, shame starting to creep through your veins because what if this decision is simply a decision to run away yet again? but then mingi senses your doubts and draws you in for another kiss. he captures your lips between his, pressing against you a little harder when you both start to run out of breath. he draws it out for longer until the kiss becomes dizzyingly and intoxicatingly blissful and fills your mind with thoughts of him and him only.

when you can finally inhale, the air swirls with a mix of his scent and the shampoo he had used. here, under the warm spray of water within the safe confines of the shower and mingi's arms, it may only be momentary but you are okay.

“can you tell the boys for me?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. “i don't think i can tell them myself.”

mingi nods and the corners of his lips rise bittersweetly. “of course.”

so for the first time in four years since moving in with your boys, on a night that snows lightly but unceasingly, you pack a small bag of clothes and essential belongings…

and move out.

“good evening, doctor jeong from general surgery.”

the running joke between himself and the little girl in front never fails to draw a laugh of amusement out of yunho, who pretends to bow in formal greeting as he returns the acknowledgement, “good evening, kim seolhee from the paediatric ward.” when she giggles, he comments, “you look like you’re having a good day.”

seolhee grins and nods with excitement. not only does her expression look livelier, there is a slight healthy glow to her skin as well. “i was just telling doctor snowflake that they’re letting me go home for christmas next week before my next round of treatments start.”

at her words, there is no way to avoid eye contact with your boyfriend as his gaze automatically flicks over to where you are sitting beside her bed. ever since you moved out a few days ago into a friend’s rented apartment with a spare couch, your encounters with your boyfriends around the hospital have been…different.

a shift in dynamics was always going to be inevitable because it was–is–an action of request for space to think and just breathe, even though neither parties are truly mad or upset at one another. just as mingi had reassured you in the shower, it is simply the circumstances that have piled up and led to a consequence like so, and if you need time away from a contributing factor to sort your emotions out, there are absolutely no hard feelings. despite all this, your boyfriends cannot help but yearn to reach out and bring you back into their arms–to bring you back home.

yunho’s eyes soften the moment they lay upon you and he savours the sight of you today, unsure of when he will next see you around the hospital. “that’s so good to hear,” he says earnestly, “and i’m sure that news has made doctor snowflake’s entire week.”

he smiles at you warmly and this time you find yourself mirroring his expression, awkwardness taking a backseat because you know he is genuinely happy for both seolhee and you. the level of fondness and love you have for seolhee has long blurred past the usual level of care you would show to a patient on your caseload. she has spent more christmas’ in hospital than out, so to be able to spend these holidays at home is the greatest gift seolhee could receive and the greatest gift you could witness.

your boyfriend lingers around for a little longer, pushing his visit as long as he can without it being obvious that he does not actually have a reason to stay. eventually he says, “i better get back to work. enjoy your christmas at home, seolhee.”

she nods happily and then he looks at you. “i’ll see you–” yunho cuts himself off, holding back from finishing the sentence with ‘at home’. he corrects, “i’ll see you around.”

“see you,” you respond amiably, fingers fiddling with the hem of your scrubs as he walks out.

yunho only makes it a couple of steps away before he bumps into wooyoung making his evening rounds. they exchange brief conversation and you quickly avert your gaze when you see the taller of the two gesturing back into seolhee’s room. seolhee’s eyes dart between yours and the view outside her room before she points out, “it’s nurse woo!”

“really?” you lie, pretending you had not noticed. yunho has already walked off by the time you look back, so only wooyoung is looking at you. he makes no move to come into seolhee’s room. instead, he gives you a little wave with a hopeful smile. a small exhale of fondness leaves you as you return his gesture through the room’s window with a similar amount of restraint. however, it is enough to make your boyfriend break out into a beam, and then he goes running off.

seolhee is already staring at you when you turn to face her again. she raises an eyebrow. “are you and your boyfriends fighting?” she immediately asks.

her question makes you flinch with a sheepish smile, knowing that she would catch a whiff of it sooner or later–just not this fast. are you and your boys fighting? it is technically not a proper argument nor a proper break from the relationship, but there is the need to take a step back and rethink what certain things mean to you–to the boys–and what you want your life to look like.

you are not about to unload all of this onto the now seven-year-old girl with an ‘it’s complicated’ as your answer, so you opt for a simple, “yeah, kind of.”

seolhee shrugs and comments casually, “my parents used to fight all the time.”

you are reminded of her mother, mrs kim, who you have seen several times during visiting hours after that first meeting with her. you are also reminded of mr kim, her father who drops by whenever he can when he is not at work. they have been nothing but strong and supportive parents during seolhee’s battle with her cancer and you cannot reconcile that image of them with the image of constant arguing.

“what changed?” you probe curiously.

despite the smile on her face, the glimmer in seolhee’s eyes fade slightly. “i got diagnosed and then they realised that in the grand scheme of the universe, life is just too short not to spend every moment loving each other.” she turns to look outside the window on the other side of her bed. “we learnt a lot–love isn’t just about expensive outings and fancy gestures and impressive words because there are a lot of things that i can’t do that other normal kids and families can…we learnt that love is all about the small things too and those small moments in life are the things we truly end up cherishing, especially during the tough times.

“mum helps me pick out the colour of my bandanna when i want to wear one, and dad helps me hold the bucket up when i’m feeling sick. i pretend to hide my parents behind the curtains to see if the nurses will let us have an extra five minutes past visiting hours, and they will always smile and give us ten. we don’t always love each other the same way as other families do, but those are the things that we’ll remember the most.”

you look out the window with seolhee as you listen to her words. the snow has fallen lightly the entire day and now under the streetlights, the growing layer of snow glows brightly amongst the dimness of the winter night. you think back to your boys–the lack of dates and diminishing displays of love; how that had been one of the first indicators that something had changed in the relationship dynamics. then you also think back to those small gestures they had done for you; the silly notes, the coffees, the brief conversations, the meals, the break room hugs.

“it’s kind of like snow,” you murmur to neither yourself nor seolhee in particular. “you don’t notice it at first, and only when it starts to form a layer on the ground over time do you start to realise how much it has actually snowed.”

the moment those words leave your lips, you are suddenly reminded of how even those small gestures had gradually disappeared–how that too played a part in the shift in your romantic relationships. your tone is wistful, “then the snow melts and it's gone, just like that.”

seolhee looks back at you, considering your words thoughtfully. she hums for a moment before putting forward, “it melts, but does that change the fact that it snowed in the first place?”

the snowflakes continue to drift softly outside like butterfly wings. as beautiful as they are, there will come a time when they melt away, but the reality before your eyes right now is that they exist–they are there. it is snowing.

“no,” you reply, “it doesn’t.”

“then maybe it's up to us to remember that it snowed until it does snow again,” she smiles triumphantly, the innocence of her radiating beam so strikingly different to the clarifying wisdom she has suddenly dropped even if she does not know the true extent of the meaning her words hold to you. seolhee points at your name badge to drive her point home, “it's just like your badge. my sticker is gone now but that doesn't change the fact that it used to be there.”

your head flicks down immediately and you tilt your badge upwards so that you can get a good look it at. disappointment washes over you when you find that her words are true and her sticker is gone, so worn and loved that it has fallen off somewhere within the hospital. you have no idea when that occurred but it must have been today, because it was still there this morning when you touched it for comfort on your drive here. now, only the faint outline of its shape remains.

it should not hold as much sentimental value as it does, but the realisation that seolhee’s sticker is no longer with you makes you ask, like you the child and seolhee the adult, “can i have another one?”

her voice takes a rare tone of complaint as she grumbles, “i lost the sticker book when i moved back to this ward.”

“that’s a shame” you remark, as genuinely upset as the little girl beside you.

she lets out an endearing little sigh, then pats the back of her hand with her own. “that’s okay, you can look outside whenever you miss me. remember,” seolhee blinks at you earnestly, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”

you place your other hand over hers with a hint of a challenging smile. “and if it stops snowing?” you ask, testing the seemingly boundless wisdom that is hidden inside of her.

seolhee beams, answer so clear and obvious. “then count the stars in the sky.”

for the first time in his life, jongho is late.

his, san’s and yeosang’s mornings had all started off a little rough after the latter had rushed past the open door to the bedroom the other two were sleeping in together, dressed in his scrubs and puffer jacket ready to leave, only to double take at the sight of them still in bed. they had been woken up by yeosang’s frantic question, “jongho? don’t you have work today?”

san had groggily lifted his upper body off the bed as jongho jolted into a sitting position, trying to pull himself together. “what?” jongho’s brain had remained foggy no matter how alert he appeared in panic. “what time is it? what day is it today?”

“it’s six thirty,” yeosang had responded, san’s grunts of confirmation affirming the same. alarm had suddenly run through yeosang as doubt creeped into his own mind. “and it’s monday…isn’t it?”

“yeah,” san had confirmed again, voice thick with sleep.

jongho had been certain he did not have work. “i checked the whiteboard last night. my name’s not down for a shift,” he had stated, only to break out into cold sweat immediately afterwards with realisation. you are the only one who goes to all the effort to note down everybody’s shifts for the fortnight on the whiteboard–the very same one that has not been changed since you moved out.

“oh, shit,” jongho had cursed. “i do have work.”

and so for the first time in his life, jongho is late. he knows he only has himself to blame for relying on somebody else for something as important as when he has to show up for work, but for years that is how it has been. not once have you ever made a mistake with the erasable calendar, always taking meticulous care to check that all the shifts for each day are correct because it is the easiest way to help you all keep track of where everybody is for the day.

nobody asks you to update the whiteboard. you just do.

hongjoong realises the same thing in the wake of jongho’s rush to leave the house. he stands in front of the bathroom sink, his eyes half-closed as he brings his toothbrush up to his mouth, only to get a gross mouthful of plain bristles. it is still too early in the morning to swear so he sighs in resignation instead, “not again.”

he pulls the head of the toothbrush back out of his mouth to squeeze a glob of toothpaste on top. it is the third morning in a row that he has done this, still unaccustomed to your absence in the house. on the mornings you leave for work earlier than him–which is most days–you have always pre-squeezed his toothpaste for him, simply because you know it takes a little longer for the cogs in his head to start turning in comparison to your other boys.

hongjoong does not ask you to squeeze his toothpaste for him. you just do.

it is second nature to you, just as it is to hang wooyoung’s keys on the jacket hook by the front door so that he does not upturn the entire house looking for them like he has been for the past fifteen minutes. seonghwa follows hot on the younger’s heels flipping cushions back onto their spots on the couch, shifting trinkets on the kitchen counter back where they belong and closing all the cabinet doors that are swung open haphazardly.

“i never understand why you don’t just put your keys back onto the same hook whenever you get home,” seonghwa exhales.

wooyoung pointedly chooses not to respond to that, instead firmly stating, “i’m telling you, they were on the couch just last night."

“and why would you put them on the couch in the first place?”

“that’s besides the point,” the younger waves his words away carelessly, going back to the couch once more and sliding his hands along the cracks in case they slipped inside.

“how does y/n always manage to find your keys,” seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair.

“i don’t know,” wooyoung suddenly dampens, hands coming to a stop in the middle of the couch as he thinks of you knowing exactly where his keys are in the chaos of the house. “she just…does.”

and there are a lot of other things that you just do. when mingi saunters into the kitchen after dinner, feeling peckish but not for something unhealthy considering it is already close to bedtime, he pokes his nose into the fridge as san washes the dishes. the latter glances over his shoulder.

“you want me to cut you an apple later?” san offers.

mingi nods happily and requests, “without the skin?”

the older laughs, repeating his words, “without the skin.”

when mingi is handed a plate of neat apple slices ten minutes later, he finds himself subconsciously comparing them to the ones you will silently place into his hands after dinner before he even asks for them. san’s slices are the same in appearance–skinned and uniform–except he cuts them into thicker wedges than you do.

mingi takes a bite into one. the apple tastes sweet and tart across his tongue and yet he cannot help but think that the apples taste better when you cut them. whereas san cuts them into six slices, you cut them into nine; just something that you do.

later that night, yunho is again the last one to arrive home after his surgeries run overtime, save for seonghwa and yeosang on night shift. it is pitch black when he enters, bumping not only into the shoe cabinet but also an untucked dining chair as he fumbles his way in with his hands outstretched.

the night light that is usually plugged into the wall of the living room is not on to greet him in the dark hours past midnight today. the light was something you had insisted he buy, absolutely not because the design of the glowing mushroom cap was cute, but because you did not want anybody–read yunho–tripping flat onto their face coming home from a late shift. you are always the one to turn it on if you know one of them will be late, but this time there is no light…because there is no you.

yunho does not ask you to turn the light on for him. you just do. nobody asks you to do any of those small things for them, yet you just do, because that is your way of showing you see, your way of showing you care, and your way of showing you love.

a wave of longing washes over yunho, the sands of his heart already long damp from the moment you moved out. how he wishes he could just walk into your room right now and shelter your peacefully-sleeping form from the shadows of the night with a tender kiss, just like he used to.

but he cannot, not anymore, and he regrets more than anything not doing it while he could.

nurse yejin, the head of the paediatric emergency department, is just about to greet you as you walk up to the nursing station when she takes all but one look at you and points out, “you’re looking like shit this morning.”

from anybody else, that statement would have been insulting despite it being the truth. but nurse yejin has always been frank and blunt, not one to beat around the bush with the intent of getting to the root of problems as efficiently and effectively as possible. ‘head nurse things’, she had told you early on in your rotation.

you let out a laugh in response, although it probably looks like a grimace more than anything. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” you joke.

it is only true to a certain extent since you have not been sleeping on a bed but on a couch for the past six days, now counting seven. but ever since you moved out, you have woken up every morning feeling out of routine, standing in the middle of the unfamiliar living room disorientated and wondering whether you usually brush your teeth before changing into your scrubs or after, and whether you usually grab your socks before you pack your bag or right before you leave for work. you do not realise how mentally ingrained into your system your morning routine is, down to the number of steps your feet can take on autopilot and the exact placement of the items your hands can grab without looking, until your environment changes entirely.

the drive to the hospital is also different. it is only ten minutes longer than your usual commute and the streets all look similar under the covering of snow, yet it still throws you off, setting the tone as such for the remainder of the day.

this morning had been no exception–arguably worse–when you realised with frustration that you had no more clean scrubs to change into. you had forgotten to run a load of laundry the day before, leaving you with no choice but to borrow your friend’s clothes that were presentable enough for you to wear to work until you could change into a set of the hospital’s spare scrubs.

forgetting to do your laundry is no rare occurrence but it has never been an issue. how many times had you opened your wardrobe, uncertain whether you would find a set of wearable scrubs, only to be surprised by an ironed and neatly-hung set waiting for you? it has never been an issue until now, as realisation dawns upon you that one of your boyfriends has always looked out for you by ensuring you always had clean scrubs for work.

“you better snap out of it quick then, doctor l/n,” nurse yejin advises, words pulling you back to the present. “we have a thirteen-year-old male arriving in a few minutes with a first-time generalised tonic-clonic seizure. episode lasted for six minutes, now postictal but stable.”

your mind immediately shifts, focus zeroing in on the length of the seizure as the head nurse continues to provide you a handover of the paramedic’s call. you instruct, “notify the fellow or resident currently on call in paediatric neurology. tell them to be ready for immediate assessment.”

nurse yejin nods and reaches for the phone as you walk off briskly to prepare for the patient’s arrival. from behind, she watches you with a slight smirk of pride because there you are; fire lit up in your eyes once again. only, it is nowhere near as intense as it used to be.

for fire, too, has a life of its own. it is able to burn and burn and burn, engulfing whatever it can within its vicinity in order to keep itself alive and bright. but even the strongest of fires will eventually burn out into nothing but a wither of smoke if it does receive enough fuel to keep it sustained, whether sourced by itself or provided by those around it.

“you’re not eating?” your intern asks you, hours later.

you turn your head slightly towards her to show she has your attention, but you keep your eyes glued to the screen as you rapidly type up the notes for the seizure patient from this morning. “you go have lunch first,” you respond distractedly, not having realised it was already past one thirty. “i’ll eat in a bit.”

only, when it comes to three o’clock, a wrench having been thrown into the works by a sudden code blue, you realise you do not have a lunch to eat. “fuck,” you curse at yourself, hands digging into your bag once more in hopes of finding a stray protein bar. you knew you should have thrown in a couple of them last night while it was on your mind.

just like your scrubs, your lunch has never been an issue for you until now. once more, realisation is forced upon you as you wonder why not; san has always had an uncanny sixth sense that somehow alerts him each time you forget to stuff your lunchbox into your bag so that he can do it in your stead. on the days you forget and he leaves earlier than you, hongjoong is there to take it to work, personally finding you on the wards to deliver it to you.

sometimes, your lunch will be packed in a different container. when wooyoung makes a heavily-spiced or greasier dish, he portions some to cook with less chilli or seasoning specifically for you to take to work the next day because he knows your stomach is sensitive, especially when you are stressed or fatigued. today though, you have no choice but to grab something from the cafeteria.

even the instant coffee you quickly brew for yourself tastes particularly unpalatable and sand-like, a tricky feat considering how rock-bottom the standard already is. jongho has always somehow managed to make it taste bearable if he does not have time to order freshly-brewed coffee from the cafe. you think that maybe it is because he takes the extra minute that you do not to properly pre-dissolve the powder in some boiling water before diluting the coffee with the rest of the water. and jongho does do that, except the reality is that it tastes better simply because he is making it for you.

you find your mind incessantly churning as your day continues in a similar manner–sudden awareness of all the different ways your boyfriends have been looking out for you. it shadows you from the hospital back to your friend’s apartment, which is pitch black when you get back after your shift. your friend had texted you earlier that she would be out drinking with friends and unlikely to return before the morning, so when you unlock the door, you are greeted by nothing but deafening silence and apocalyptic stillness.

using the display of your lockscreen to illuminate a path, you toe off your shoes and sluggishly trudge into the living room. you have never come home to complete blackness before–one of your boyfriends, usually yunho, has always made sure to keep a night light on for you. but this time, the lonely gloom of your friend’s apartment beckons to you in a way that is hauntingly comforting. so instead of turning its lights on, you sit down heavily on the couch in the darkness.

the night seems colder than usual.

you lean back onto the cushions of the couch and stare blankly at the ceiling above. the display on your phone dims before turning off from idleness. as if your body takes it as a cue to do the same, you close your eyes and slowly exhale, muscles deflating into the couch as the silence spreads over your body like the gradual creep of water freezing.

just what exactly are you doing? what is it that you need?

did you simply need an opportunity to just be yourself, away from those who you felt the need to always be a perfectly happy and positive y/n around? or did you need space to reconsider the state of your relationship with the boys? maybe it was never even about the relationships in the first place, but that you had no way of isolating yourself from work so you chose the next best option to cut yourself off from.

perhaps, you really just wanted to continue running away and hiding from a greater problem that you do not want to acknowledge.

a wetness builds up behind your eyelids, confused and overwhelmed by the fact itself that you still cannot make sense of your emotions. maybe it is because there is no one answer but that all of them are answers, because no matter what you try to do or where you try to run, you cannot seem to rid the bone-deep exhaustion that continues to crush and constrict your soul.

however, there is one thing you are certain of after today. having spent so many days away from the boys and your normal routine, only now do you realise just how many subtle routines there are that intertwine you all together. some you only notice because of the change it has brought upon this week; others long known because they ceased to occur.

but seolhee’s words resonate within you. yes, some of those routines had disappeared, but like the snow, it does not change the fact that they existed in the first place. the commonality that all of the routines share–whether it be those you had previously been so hung up about dwindling or those you are only just becoming conscious of–is that they are all routines of love.

and like the golden warmth of the sun during the frigid bitterness of winter, you do not learn to truly appreciate something until it becomes absent from your life.

sometimes, you wonder what the end of the world will be like.

you wonder how it happens; whether it would be instantaneous, one second everybody going about their everyday life then the next second everything gone, people’s last moments still in blissful ignorance as to what has become of them and the world; or whether it would be gradual, an agonisingly slow and painful wait as inevitable doom creeps closer, no better than mercifully taking your own life.

you wonder what you would feel; fear for what will be or resignation for what is to be? regret for what had been or grief for what will not be? you wonder how you would realise, where you would be the moment it happens, who would come to mind first, why the world would be ending.

you have wondered so much and yet, you would have never expected to experience a part of your world ending through a phone call, your ringtone jarring and eerie in the late hours past midnight, jolting you awake on an unfamiliar couch to the sight of an equally unfamiliar ceiling. it takes you a few seconds to process the sound, disoriented from having accidentally fallen asleep still in your scrubs with no recollection of the last few hours.

by the time your fingers fumble across your phone, it has already stopped ringing. squinting, you turn the screen on. there are fresh notifications at the top of your screen showing two missed calls, but before you can process who they are from, the silent living room is disturbed by the piercing sound of your ringtone once again.

it is only seonghwa who is calling but an unsettling shift in the air abruptly makes the hair along your skin rise. something is wrong. you pick up.

“...hwa?”

“hey, love,” your boyfriend responds carefully. “where–are you at your friend’s place right now?”

you sit up on the couch and adjust the phone closer towards your ear with both hands. “yeah…i am.”

you can hear seonghwa take a shaky exhale before answering, “i think you might want to come to the hospital.”

blood rushes to your ears and your breath hitches. “why?” you whisper out, voice barely audible as your clutch on your phone tightens.

he does not answer you immediately. it is not until you choke out your question once more, voice urgent and desperate, that he breaks. seonghwa's tone is solemn, hesitance to speak louder than a waterfall, and never would you have thought that it would only take something as simple as his next two words for you to experience what feels like the end of the world.

“it’s seolhee.”

the room spins around from under your feet. you suddenly find yourself blindly groping the surface of the kitchen countertop, having stumbled your way across the dark living room. the phone call has ended–you cannot recall whether you hung up on seonghwa or whether he hung up on you, or whether it is actually still ongoing, his concerned shouts of your name simply falling upon deaf ears.

your breathing becomes increasingly shallow but you do not start crying. your expression remains stonily frozen as you frantically feel and search the countertop with your hands, uncaring of the ruckus and mess you are making. you are looking for something. what are you looking for? you need something. you need to bring something, but what? keys. you need to bring your keys. you need keys. you need your car keys. car keys, so you can drive to the hospital. you need to drive to the hospital because seolhee is there. you need to get to the hospital and you need to drive and you need your keys, where are your keys? you need your keys.

something cold brushes against the side of your pinky and immediately you snatch it up. you rush to the front door, toeing on the first thing that feels like a pair of shoes, then yank the door open before they are properly on your feet. you have no time. your leg jitters and your finger repeatedly jabs the elevator button as you watch the display numbers of the floor slowly move upwards towards yours. please, you beg to whichever higher entity is willing to listen to you, please, i have no time.

the moment the doors start to crack open, you force your way into the elevator. the doors cannot close fast enough and you pace in restless circles in the enclosed space while it takes you down to the underground carpark. your feet have already exited the threshold of the elevator before the doors even fully open again and your frantic steps reverberate loudly in the echo of the parking lot as you sprint for your car.

“y/n!”

you almost miss the yell of your name in your distraught, but your steps falter at the last moment, slowing down only slightly to turn in the direction of the sound. there is no time to question what you see. mingi is there, rapidly closing the distance between the two of you.

he stands in front of you within seconds and his chest heaves with effort and adrenaline. you feel your face crumpling as you instinctively and automatically reach out for him. mingi catches your hands, letting you squeeze his own in panic even if your nails dig into his skin.

“mingi, seonghwa–seolhee, she–the hospital–”

“i know,” mingi nods quickly, gently shushing your unintelligible blabber, “i know. let’s get you to the hospital.”

he envelops your hand in his and tugs you along behind him towards his car. you want to urge him to run, but he maintains a steady pace until he can pull the car door open and guide you into the seat. mingi can feel your anxiety rolling off in waves as he rounds the front of the car to the driver’s seat and he knows how desperate you are for him to hurry up and floor the pedal, but he also knows that feeding into your panic with his own will only make things worse.

mingi drives as fast as he can without speeding too dangerously, although he cuts it close with a few red lights. the two of you sit in loud silence the entire ride. your boyfriend glances over at you every now and then, brows furrowed with concern, but you remain motionless with your eyes fixed to the road in front despite the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat.

“y/n–” your boyfriend cuts himself off upon arriving at the hospital, where you tumble out of the car the moment it jerks to a stop. he is not quick enough to grab you as he puts the car into park and he fumbles to undo his own seatbelt whilst you are already weaving your way towards the sliding doors to the elevator.

you run. never before in your life have you ever run with such sheer desperation. one after the other, the soles of your shoes strike against the ceramic tiles of the lobby before they become thuds against the vinyl flooring of the wards.

the past month, you have walked this exact path almost every single day; you have seen stretchers being rushed in, and parents and family members forcibly pulled away from the side of their loved ones to make way for immediate medical assistance from doctors like you. but today, you are on the other side–you are the one rushing into the paediatric ED dishevelled and crazed, uncaring of how you look to the rest of the world.

“seolhee,” you mutter to yourself, pace slowing to an unsteady stumble as you twist and turn to find her familiar smile. “seolhee, where are you?”

nurse yejin spots you and rushes up to grasp you by the elbow. “doctor l/n,” she urges with wide eyes, “she came in as a code blue. she's in the resus bay but she–”

your blood runs cold and the rest of nurse yejin's words become a muffled fuzz in your ear along with the surrounding clamour of the ED, replaced instead by a high-pitched ringing that reverberates throughout your entire skull. gaze unfocused, you sway as your feet slowly pivot in the direction of the resus bay. nurse yejin’s outstretched hand falls to her side and she watches you helplessly, your shoes shuffling with contradictory urgency and hesitancy towards the sliding glass doors.

around you, the commotion of the ward blurs away, your vision narrowing into a pinprick tunnel the closer you get. seonghwa tries to reach for you when you pass by him and some of your colleagues near the doors, but you continue shambling forward as if you are possessed, mind and body completely blind to his presence and touch. you do not stop until you reach the doors. slowly, you bring your hands up to rest on the cool surface as you press yourself closer and look inside.

it’s a code blue, you think to yourself in a state of trance and stupored confusion at the scene that unfolds before your eyes, but why is nobody resuscitating seolhee? why is nobody helping her? why isn’t anybody doing anything?

“seolhee,” you whisper vaguely, right hand weakly hitting the glass. then again, you call out her name, this time with more urgency. “seolhee.”

you hit the glass once more, then a third time but harder yet. “seolhee!” you shout, both hands now fisted and pounding against the glass in distress. “seolhee! somebody save her!”

hands start to pull you back but you do not register any of them nor are they strong enough to draw you away from the doors. the anguished cries of your name are left unheard, but despite the wildness of your crazed desperation, your mind vaguely registers the few words that somehow manage to break through. the sounds are warped and distorted as if you are continuously being thrust underwater then hauled upwards over and over again, but it is enough for you to piece them together.

“cardiac arrest…multi-organ failure–” “–terminal lucidity–” “–time of death–”

your body nearly topples over as you freeze under the resistance of those around you, jostling around limply in the crowd of limbs. all of a sudden, you are wrenched out of the water and your chest convulses trying to gasp for air. the noise of the ED and the shouts around you flood back into your ears like a tsunami, except it comes from every direction imaginable with force that has multiplied infinitely and pulverises your entire soul.

you cannot stay here any longer. you run.

you run wherever your feet take you and you do not stop, even when your lungs and your legs begin to sear at the same intensity as the inferno that currently incinerates your heart. lurching up stairs after stairs after stairs, you run and run and run until you burst through the doors to the rooftop of the hospital where your chest takes in a heaving inhale. the piercing temperature of the air leaves your system shocked and breathless and you stumble over to the ground.

there is nothing to break your fall in every sense, so there, on your hands and knees at your absolute lowest in the stinging cold of the hospital rooftop, you finally shatter into smithereens. it starts off as a tremble of your lips and a quiver of your chin, a choked stutter of breath as your eyebrows crumple and your eyes blink back the growing heat behind them. but then a small cry of pain leaves you and you lean back heavily onto your feet before your hands fist the material of your scrubs. your skin turns white as you clench and rock yourself back and forth, breathing erratic and sobs increasing in volume until they are long, soulful wails.

your entire body convulses uncontrollably with each gut-wrenching cry that leaves you. the world around you blurs away from the tears that fall down your face and your head pounds with lightheadedness. you hit your chest with an agonised fist, again and again, harder and harder, because you would rather feel any physical pain than the shattering crevice in your heart.

you are suddenly jostled by a strong pair of arms wrapping around your upper body. they tuck you firmly into their chest, a hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you from hurting yourself any further and the other pressing your head against the warmth of their neck.

they shush you repetitively with soothing rocks back and forth. as they comfort you, their own voice cracks from their constricted throat, “i’ve got you, y/n. just cry.” only then do you hazily register it as seonghwa’s voice. seonghwa, who was just as close to seolhee as you, understands the pain that is breaking you apart and is here to hold you through it.

you cannot rid the image of seolhee’s last smile out of your head–her excitement to go home for christmas, her cheery confession of how much she loves you. you fist the front of seonghwa’s scrubs and weep, “it hurts, seonghwa. why does it hurt so much?”

he rests his cheek against the top of your head, his own tears falling freely and dripping down to join yours on the snowy floor in bittersweet harmony. as doctors and nurses, grieving for patients is a luxury that cannot be afforded for every single life that is lost. grief is a weakness in the medical field because you cannot look back–you can only look forward and do your best to make sure there are no more lives that are lost.

but you forget that grief is not a weakness as a person, and you are human first and foremost before you are doctors and nurses. sometimes, it becomes a necessity to grieve before you can keep moving forward.

“i know, love,” seonghwa brushes his hand over your hair as he tries to keep his voice from breaking. “grief is the price you pay for loving somebody.”

because unfortunately, life comes with transactions and between two people, there will always be one person who must pay the price of love.

you close your eyes, gritting your teeth when your face crumples again and a fresh bout of sobs escapes through your lips. seonghwa presses his lips to the crown of your forehead, resting them there while you shake in his arms. eventually, he murmurs into your hair, “you want to know what seolhee’s mother told me once?”

your answer is in the form of more anguished cries but you hang onto every word that comes out of your boyfriend’s mouth like they are your lifeline. the corners of seonghwa’s lips tug upwards with mournful nostalgia as he tells you, “she’s always wanted to thank you for loving her daughter as if she is your own…so it’s okay–it’s normal for you to hurt so badly, because you love seolhee and the more you love somebody, the greater the price you pay.”

seonghwa’s unconscious choice of phrasing–that you love her, not that you loved her–simultaneously cradles and crushes your heart. it is an exact reflection of the last conversation you had with seolhee. snow may melt, but it does not change the fact that snowflakes flutter down from the sky. seolhee may be gone, but it does not change the fact that you love and remember her.

“seolhee’s last wish was fulfilled,” seonghwa softly murmurs, pulling out his phone from his pocket to turn the screen on. the light hurts your sensitive eyes when you try to make out the display through your fuzzy vision and you can just barely make out what looks to be the time on his lockscreen. he explains, “it’s four thirty am…that makes it christmas already. not only was she able to spend some time at home with her family again, but now she gets to spend the rest of her christmas back where she came from–”

your boyfriend pulls away slightly and tilts your head up tenderly with his fingers. you see him properly for the first time tonight. his eyes are just as red and swollen as yours are, cheeks wet and glistening despite the small smile he gives you when you finally look at him. he finishes, “–the sky, with all the other beautiful angels just like her.”

you slowly follow his gaze upwards. once more, a wounded cry breaks free at the sight that greets you. it no longer snows, the thin blanket of snowflakes covering the ground and the rooftop the only traces left and already steadily melting away. but that is not what makes you sob even harder.

the skies above you are filled with an endless expanse of stars, shining and gleaming no matter where your eyes look. there are thousands upon millions of stars, too many to begin counting even if you were to stand on the rooftop for numerous lifetimes.

the heavens cried in the form of the first snow when seolhee was born, for they lost her to the world. but tonight they rejoice, for their precious angel has returned soaring through the starry skies. and even amidst her joy of freedom–from the shackles of pain and suffering–seolhee remembers to tell you that she loves you more than you can fathom.

more than you can count the stars in the sky.

you jolt awake confused and disorientated for the second day in a row. only, this time it is not a jerk-induced reaction to your ringtone but a sudden thrust into consciousness by the feeling that you have overslept.

shit, what time is it? i have work.

the rising flood of panic in your chest is immediately quelled when you spot a scrap of paper on your bedside table, handwriting printed neatly in the centre.

hongjoong took sick leave for you today. don’t worry about work and go back to sleep after you take the painkillers.

that is when you register the fucking terrible headache you are sporting and you let out an involuntary groan as you press a hand to your temple. your other hand grabs the two tablets and you down them with the glass of water beside the paper.

groggily, you pat the mattress around you in search of your phone to look at the time. apart from the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the curtains to your left are drawn shut in your room, making it impossible to discern whether it is the morning, afternoon or night. the numbers blink back at you when you turn the screen on and you find that you have slept past lunchtime. confusion swirls inside of you with an unusual mix of something else. taking the day off work is not the only thing that is off.

wait.

your head jerks to the left, then to the right, then down at your bedding–the blue-grey colour familiar and soft to the touch. you are in your room–your room room, back at your place with the boys. you turn your phone on again and check the date. it is christmas.

and then it hits you.

it is still christmas. it is still the same day as what now feels like a vivid fever dream. you can only recall bits and pieces, so hazy and yet so evocative at the same time. it is like trying to make sense of an optical illusion; it disappears when you think about it too directly, but the moment you take your mind off it even slightly, it is right there in your peripheral vision, begging for your attention.

you remember being woken up by seonghwa’s phone call and your desperation to get to the hospital. you remember mingi driving you there and then sprinting towards the ED. you remember breaking down on the hospital’s rooftop after finding out that seolhee had…

your fingers pinch the inside of your left wrist to stop yourself from finishing the memory. with an unsteady exhale, all tension is lost from your body and you fall back to slump against the headboard. grief starts to take over you once more, vice tightening its grasp around your heart but simultaneously leaving a cavernous hollowness and numbness in your chest.

that is how wooyoung finds you an hour later, still staring blankly at the bedroom wall across from you and swimming in muddy water. he had only tentatively knocked twice on your door before entering, half-expecting you to still be asleep and making a soft noise of surprise when he finds that you are not. in the back of your mind, you vaguely feel a twinge of guilt at not having the energy to do something as simple as greet him as he sits carefully on the edge of your bed.

but wooyoung is a persistent soul and an even more persistent lover. he has learnt from experience that sometimes, asking anything but what he truly wants to ask is what you actually need. wooyoung catches himself from gazing sadly at you, putting on a small smile instead as he lays a hand over your thigh. his touch is warm through the blanket.

“should i bring in some food for you? there’s dumpling soup,” he tells you. “or do you want to go to the living room? we can put on a movie.”

it is hard to find the words to answer him–hard to even hum or nod or shake your head in response. your fingers twitch slightly in the direction of wooyoung’s hand still on your thigh and he immediately moves it to place over yours. the rhythmic touch of his thumb brushing back and forth over your skin is soothing.

“we don’t have to talk. we can just sit for a bit,” he offers.

the room settles into silence for a while as he gives you time to decide. finally, you ask, voice quiet, “who’s home?”

wooyoung wriggles a little closer with restrained excitement at your response. “all of us are.” when you blink at him in reaction, he understands your question immediately because none of you can remember the last time the nine of you had a day off together, much less on a christmas. he explains, “we all took whatever personal leave we could.”

“the hospital let?” you frown slightly, the tone of disbelief the most amount of emotion you have shown so far.

wooyoung mirrors the minute increase in animation with cheek in his vague shrug, “they can’t afford to fire any of us. plus…i think we’ve all realised that some things are more important than work.”

you are more important than work; ‘us’ is more important than work.

something tugs at your heartstrings and you sit up a little straighter. looking at wooyoung, a slight spark of resolve lighting up in your eyes, you slowly suggest, “can we…have a talk?”

he is taken aback with pleasant surprise as he answers, “of course we can. we don’t have to do it today though.”

“no,” you shake your head, “let’s talk now.”

while we still can. before it becomes too late. plus, who knows when the next time all of you are together like this will be.

so you follow wooyoung out of your bed and then out of your room, his fingers intertwined between yours as he walks the both of you into the living room. it is a lie to say that it is not awkward seeing everybody’s heads turn towards you in simultaneity and your knee-jerk response is to dismiss their poorly-concealed concern with a wave of your hand and an, ‘i’m fine’. but you think you have had enough of that–enough of pretending and enough of pushing them away.

yunho opens his arms from his seat on the couch, eyes hopeful. you push away any second thoughts and bury yourself against him. your boyfriend pulls you right into his chest whilst tucking your legs off the ground over his thighs and he murmurs against your temple, “you sleep okay?”

you nod into his neck as jongho asks, “did you take the painkillers?” and seonghwa questions, “do you want dumplings?”

a small puff of amusement comes out of your chest because just mere weeks ago, perhaps even one, questions like these would have fanned an inexplicable inferno inside of you. now, it all seems so long ago, but it does not change the fact that you are apologetic about it–apologetic about a lot of things.

“i took them, thanks jongho. and maybe later, hwa,” you respond softly. “come sit?”

the boys heed to your words immediately and the oldest of your boyfriends crosses the living room in three large strides to take your other side on the couch, the rest of them settling on the adjacent couch or on the floor. the shared warmth from being sandwiched between seonghwa and yunho immediately envelops you in comfort and safety and your body relaxes into the shape of theirs.

you do not know where to start, much less what you even want to say to the boys now that you are here with them. there are masses of things to unpack and each one seems like such a colossal mountain to climb. some you do not know the route up, others you know the route up but not the way back down, and the rest you cannot even see the mountaintop. so you choose to start easy: at the very bottom of the trail where it is safe.

“i miss having clean scrubs,” you blurt out, “and i miss the lunches that wooyoung cooks and the coffees that jongho makes.”

from beside you, yunho’s body rumbles with low laughter at your unexpected conversation starter and he glances down at you fondly. his voice is soothing in your ear as he says, “we miss seeing your night light greet us whenever we come home.”

“and the changes you make on our whiteboard calendar,” yeosang adds.

“we struggled to remember our shifts without you keeping track of them,” jongho divulges sheepishly.

yeosang tattles with a giggle, “he was late for work for the first time.”

“yeah,” you smile, “i heard.”

jongho huffs out before quipping, “at least i still knew how to squeeze my own toothpaste and find my own car keys.”

both hongjoong and wooyoung curse indignantly at the uncalled-for betrayal of the youngest as he pointedly ignores them and continues, “some of us have realised we have non-existent survival skills without you.”

“oh, speak for yourself,” san nudges him endearingly.

but you are more than grateful for the lightening of the mood because you do not think you would have the courage to otherwise abruptly apologise, “i’m sorry that i took so many things for granted.”

“what? no,” san counters, the first of many others to parrot the same thing. “we’re sorry about that too. when you moved out, we also realised just how many things you do for us without our appreciation. you raised a valid concern because our relationship with one another is something we have all become too complacent about.”

yunho squeezes you a little tighter with the arm he has around your shoulders. he muses, “it’s easy for a long-term relationship to become less ‘exciting’, but we forget that part of the reason is because we simply become so attuned to one another’s likes and dislikes, preferences and habits that it becomes our own second nature to do those things naturally. it isn’t that we love each other less, it’s just that we become so used to the way we love and are loved that we stop noticing it.”

your mind drifts slightly to a sweet, little girl with a bright smile, telling you that relationships are not always about the grand gestures, but rather the small things. she always did know better than you.

“in saying that though,” hongjoong brings up, “as important as it is for us to start appreciating all of those things again, i think it’s just as important for us to put in the conscious effort to go out of our way to have quality time and conversations with one another, like going on dates.”

wooyoung cackles, “that’s a bit rich coming from you, mister sorry-i-forgot-about-our-date,” and a snort comes out of you despite yourself.

the older flips him off. on both hands.

now occupied with his handsy insults, seonghwa takes over the conversation instead, “no relationship is perfect. they all need mutual effort to maintain and it definitely won’t be easy, especially since so many of you are nearing the end of your residency. it’ll be a busy few months preparing for the board exam and there’ll be plenty of hurdles to jump over in the future too, but things will work out because we’ve got each other’s backs now.”

the boys all smile affectionately at one another and at you. seonghwa presses a loving kiss against your temple and you bathe in the brief feeling of everything being okay before you remind yourself that it still is not. “on that note,” you start cautiously, “i owe you all another apology.”

you catch the gaze of mingi’s soft expression from opposite you, who gives you a small nod and a minute smile of encouragement. with an exhale, you admit, “the way i handled everything–not just moving out but everything leading up to that–i know you were all trying to look out for me and i shouldn’t have pushed you all away the way that i did. i just–everything was so overwhelming and confusing and tiring, and i wanted to work things out by myself because all of you had enough things to deal with, and i…”

once more, you are unsure of what you want to communicate. you are sick of not knowing and not understanding and your eyes start to water with frustration.

at your sentence trailing off, mingi finally speaks up, “life isn’t meant to be smooth sailing, y/n. yes, they’re your feelings, but that doesn’t mean that they have to make sense to you.”

and it is as if that is the validation you have needed all along, because the vice around your chest finally loosens its grip. you can breathe again and the rush of oxygen into your lungs without a heavy weight crushing you inwards is liberating.

“as healthcare workers, we become accustomed to seeing other people in the most painful moments of their lives.” mingi gently shrugs his shoulders, “we become accustomed to invalidating our own feelings. it doesn’t matter if we’re having a bad day; there will always be somebody else having the worst day of their lives. but we forget that pain is not relative–just because somebody else is hurting ‘more’, it doesn’t make our own hurt hurt less.

“and yeah, work is always going to be shitty and we’re always going to run ourselves ragged chasing after time, and then coming home from work to eight of us is going to be tiring too,” he chuckles softly. “but y/n…i think part of the reason why it’s been so hard for you is because you never let yourself have time for yourself. you never let yourself be tired or be hurt.”

you swallow your objections–the voice inside of you that says you shouldn’t and the voice that says you can’t–because you know mingi is right. you just needed to hear that you should and that you can.

he continues, “we all need quiet time away from other people and that’s okay. we spend all day showing our patients, their families and our colleagues the best side of ourselves, which means that a lot of the times we only have the…” mingi scratches the side of his head as he finds a way to express his thoughts without saying ‘the ugly side’, because that is far from what it is. “we only have the side of ourselves that we do not like as much because it isn’t what we view as ‘perfect’. but it simply holds our realest emotions–fatigue, stress, worry, frustration, impatience. it is not just you who has that side–we all do and we understand better than anybody how guilty it can feel when that is the only side that is left by the time we get home.”

there is a brief pause in the conversation as he lets the words sink in. around you, heads and gazes lower alike to the floor because that guilt is something that resounds with everybody in the room. you continue to look at mingi, though, unable to avert your eyes as his solace finally stirs the cathartic release of tears flowing freely from your heart to your eyes.

“like i said, it’s okay to take time away from us; in your room or out with your friends or somewhere else. but at the same time, i want you to know that it doesn’t make us love you any less if you don’t come home happy. you don’t love us any less when we’re unable to leave our baggage at work, because you have the same struggles. in fact, you are often the first to offer to share the load.

“as doctors and nurses, we have signed up for a lifetime of baggage and sacrifice. and that is exactly why it is that much more important for you to know that home is your safe space.” mingi gazes at you with all the earnesty in his heart. “we are your safe space where you can share your baggage. we might not be able to take it off you, but we sure as hell can curse or laugh or cry together over it, and sometimes, just that is already enough to help you keep carrying its weight over whatever mountain you are facing.”

from beside mingi, san watches you with a clenching heart. in an ideal world, san would rather you have no baggage at all and he be your only mountain–the one who shields you from the harsh elements of the world and is your unwavering presence from sunrise till sunset and yet again till the following sunrise. he sees the way you finally lower your head and let months of repressed tears fall in front of them, soft sobs in yunho and seonghwa’s comforting arms and the rest of your boyfriends within reach.

but san knows your tears are no longer ones of pain or fatigue, so for now, that is enough. he scooches closer across the floor until he is at your feet, peering up at you from between the strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face. tenderly, he asks, “y/n, will you move back in with us?”

a warm hand brushes over your cheeks. it could be san, it could be seonghwa, it could be yunho or it could be any of them. but it does not really matter. what matters is this: in order to love others, you must first love yourself–

“yeah,” you slowly nod, “i will.”

–and part of loving yourself is letting others love you. there is no place like home, much less a place like where your boys are. snow melts, but it will always fall again. without fail.

as your boyfriends all shuffle closer and envelop you in the middle of an embrace that is long overdue, loving warmth dizzying to the touch, outside the windows the first snowflake of many others flutters its graceful path down from the sky. soon, snow will cover the streets as far as the eye can see.

nobody talks about how ironic it feels to work in the hospital during the holidays, particularly christmas.

in any other establishment that is open, be it a restaurant, cafe, retail store or convenience mart, employees are greeted kindly with festive cheer–warm wishes and sincere smiles from one stranger to another. but nobody walks into the hospital on christmas with laughter and gratitude for the assistance of the doctors and nurses, because nobody wants to be at the hospital.

nobody plans to spend the day there, either.

but that is exactly why it is ironic. the hospital is a symbol of misery, the white colour of its interior the embodiment of sterility and detachment all year round–all except for a few days. on christmas eve, christmas itself and perhaps even the rest of the week leading up to the new year, the corridors are adorned with never-ending lengths of glittering tinsel, the wards are filled with the low hum of christmas carols on a looping playlist, and the staff all wear silly scrubs with rudolph faces and dancing santas on them.

there is an underlying hum of excitement and festive cheer that overrides the usual despondency of the hospital as everybody pretends it does not exist, even if just for a few days. the electric buzz thrums not just in the air at work but outside of work too, filling households with a hustle and bustle of liveliness–yours included.

“hongjoong!” you yell as you knock on the bathroom door, “we’re leaving in a few minutes!”

you press yourself flat against the door as yunho races past you with several pairs of socks in both hands despite the ones he already has on his own feet. he skids to a wobbly stop and shuffles backwards two steps to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“gross,” you laugh, pretending to wipe it off your face, but yunho is already skedaddling off again back towards his destination of the living room, on a mission to deliver the socks to your other boyfriends.

ever since you, yunho, yeosang and san all passed the board exam and became fully licensed doctors like hongjoong, your shifts have been significantly more consistent. it is much easier for you and your boyfriends to drive to work together in fewer cars, making the mornings before work significantly more chaotic. your wake-up times and subsequent bathroom usage is no longer as staggered as it was with different start times and several more night shifts, but it is a good chaotic–a bright and lively chaotic.

hongjoong yells back at you, “my hair gel isn’t hair gel-ing!” and you nearly topple onto him when he suddenly pulls the bathroom door open.

his hair is swept up neatly away from his forehead and there is not a single strand that is out of place. you chuckle and tell him as such, “your hair looks perfect, joong,” but you know his nerves are due to something completely different. you cup his jaw and gently pull him towards you for a kiss before you encourage, “you’ll do great today. you already presented at the korean neurological association earlier this year–what’s a seminar to the hospital staff in comparison?”

your boyfriend groans, “i know these people though. they’re all my colleagues.”

“and all of these colleagues will be wearing their ugly christmas sweaters or have stupid antler headbands with glowing lights on top of their heads. trust me, you’ll do amazing,” you reassure, pressing another chaste kiss against his lips to quieten his worries.

“y/n! hongjoong!” yeosang hollers.

“coming!”

you pull hongjoong out of the bathroom with you hand in hand, only letting go when you both fumble to catch the socks that yunho chucks through the air in your directions. within the next few minutes, there are playful elbows, harmless shoves and childish curses as you all cram yourselves in the corridor to put on your shoes and walk out the door to the car.

as you squish into the backseat with hongjoong and yeosang, yunho in the driver’s seat and san beside him, the latter wonders what you should all do after work. by some christmas miracle, neither you nor any of your boys have been scheduled for a night shift today, which means that if there are no hiccups at work, the nine of you will be able to spend christmas together once more.

you like to think that your guardian angel is still looking out for you, even an entire year later.

“should we try to make a reservation for a nice restaurant?” san suggests. “or should we stay up and watch a movie together?”

hongjoong proposes, “i have a friend who works at a pretty decent french restaurant if we want to go there.”

voicing your opinion without prefacing it with an apology is still something you are working on, but you have gotten much better at communicating over the year. you pipe up, “i’d prefer to stay at home tonight, but the movie sounds like a good idea. maybe we can go to your friend’s restaurant for new year’s?”

“yeah, i don’t really fancy going out tonight either,” yeosang agrees. “but new year’s, definitely.”

san nods enthusiastically. “i’ll let the rest of the boys know,” he says, then sends a question for movie recommendations for tonight into the group chat.

it is not long after that yunho pulls into the hospital’s car park where you all pile out and wait obediently by a nearby pillar as he backs the car into a particularly tight space. when he has turned the ignition off and carefully squeezed himself out without slamming the door into the car beside him, it is his turn to wait obediently as you all thank him with a quick hug or peck on the cheek.

you grasp the collar of his coat and pull him down to give him a teasing kiss on the forehead but he tiptoes instead to make it harder for you. in retaliation, you quickly jab his side and he immediately keels over enough for you to plant a triumphant kiss on his face. the boys chuckle around you, yunho pretending to nurse his wounds as he stumbles after all of you into the elevator.

the doors close and he straightens to offhandedly comment, “you guys thank me for driving every single time.”

yeosang shoots back with the same nonchalance, “because we’re thankful every single time.”

yunho claps his hand over his mouth and looks at the younger out of the corner of his eyes, but it is clear that he is hiding a bashful grin behind his fingers. the expression is not lost to any of you, your displays of gratefulness always done with the intention of making one another feel appreciated for even the smallest of things, because you have all learnt that a simple thank you goes a long way.

“see you all after work,” hongjoong says, stepping out into the lobby with the rest of you following him to let those waiting for the elevator get in.

just as you all turn to walk off your separate ways to your respective departments, he calls out as an afterthought, uncaring of the people around, “merry christmas, babes!”

you reciprocate his words with a laugh, a tinkling, cheery sound that makes san reach out for your hand and intertwine your fingers together to pull you in for a quick kiss of endearment. “choi san!” you giggle, slapping him lightly and looking around to see if anybody noticed.

if there is one thing that has changed the most over the year, it is how daring your boyfriends have become with public displays of affection. but, just as wooyoung has made it a point to remind you all of his newfound motto, what is the hospital going to do? fire all nine of you?

highly unlikely.

“alright, babes,” san tugs you along teasingly, “let’s get to work.” pinkies intertwined and swinging gently between your bodies, the two of you walk towards the same department, letting go only at the last moment to lead your morning rounds.

there is a running joke that it does not matter if you end up having enough children to make an entire soccer team because almost half of you are now fully licensed to work with children; you and san as doctors, seonghwa and wooyoung as nurses. there is no need to worry about ageing either, not when the other five are each in charge of their own specialties too.

you and your boys do not work at a hospital–you and your boys are the hospital. and it certainly feels that way when there is almost always at least one of them watching over you, regardless of wherever you are in the paediatric department.

it is later that day as you are attending to a three-week-old baby in the NICU when a second-year resident walks up to you, addressing you carelessly. immediately, you feel wooyoung’s ears perk up and watchful eyes zero in on the offending resident as the both of you recognise the younger.

“good to see you’ve stuck with paediatrics, doctor lim,” you greet neutrally. it is anything but good to see him still in the medical program at all, but you digress.

your past intern ignores your comment, confidence through the roof not only because he has somebody backing him up but because he is now a second-year resident. he shortly says, “doctor nam wants you taking over the shift for the NICU attending tonight.”

the department head has more or so left you alone for the last few months, but you guess he suddenly felt a christmas urge to scratch an itch that never existed in the first place. your expression remains impartial as you ask, “for what reason?”

dr. lim is unable to hide the brief flash of surprise across his face, not having expected you to put up a fight. he quickly scowls, “do as you’re told.”

you will not, in fact, ‘do as you’re told’, not when dr. nam is blatantly abusing his power to assign you a shift without a proper justification or notice–and through dr. lim at that too. you sure hope wooyoung can hear you as you respond sarcastically, “tell doctor nam to notify me of this change in schedule through an email from the chief resident. i’m sure he’s familiar with the proper procedure that i’m referring to.”

“i’ll make sure to tell him,” dr. lim scorns and you snort as he retreats.

“merry fuckin’ christmas to you,” you mutter at his back. you hope he slips on ice on his way home tonight.

you jump in surprise when you turn around and find wooyoung right there, an absolutely shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. he cackles as he quotes, “‘merry fuckin’ christmas to you.’ the boys are going to love it when i tell them what just happened.”

the shove you give him only serves to make him laugh even harder but you cannot deny that a sense of pride rushes through your body. force doctor nam to leave written evidence that can be used against him, jongho had advised you to do one day, and you feel a surge in confidence that this might actually work.

wooyoung certainly thinks that it will, gathering himself enough to give you an attractive smirk as he leans closer to whisper into your ear, “that’s our girl.” pleasant shivers run down your spine at his deep voice and it leaves you on cloud nine long after he stalks off absolutely preening at the response he has elicited from you.

you do not hear from dr. lim or dr. nam again nor do you receive an email regarding the extra shift tonight, so you begin to safely assume that the request is no more–that is, until the end of your shift when you are in the team workroom finishing off a referral letter.

“doctor y/n,” dr. bang grabs your attention from the table opposite you with a cryptic tone of amusement. “i think you’re wanted.”

you blink at the slight smugness on her face with confusion until she beckons her head behind you in the direction of the office door. you glance back, suddenly expecting dr. nam to be standing there fuming and ready to give you a harsh reprimand for your snarky response. except it is not him.

of all people, you did not expect it to be mingi, pressed up against the little window that looks through the door into the room. but then you realise he is not the only one peeping in–there is another pair of mischievous eyes in the corner of the window that you recognise as yunho’s, and another face pressed up against the large window along the wall, and oh–

they are all gathered around the workroom peering in with varying expressions of cheekiness as they enthusiastically wave at you. it is hard to tell whether you are the monkey in the zoo or if they are the monkeys staring out through their enclosure. you guffaw, half in embarrassment and half in exasperated fondness, then scramble to save your work and log off for the night before your boyfriends garner even more attention than they already have.

with unrestrained eagerness, your boys drag you off after exchanging rushed but warm wishes of  “merry christmas”s with your and san’s colleagues. seonghwa pivots around from where he has been walking at the front of the group, “should we walk home today?”

“in the snow?”

he nods excitedly, so obviously the youngest in his family despite being the oldest in your relationship. “we can finally experience a hallmark christmas.”

“what about our cars?” yunho asks, although he is not at all opposed to the idea.

seonghwa suggests, “how about you and i drive the cars home and then we’ll start walking back here. we can meet up along the way and walk the rest home together.”

the two of them share a look for a few seconds before they immediately take off in unison in the direction of the lifts to the car park, yunho hollering over his shoulder, “walk slowly!” within seconds, they disappear from sight around a corner and the rest of you blink at the fast exchange that has just occurred.

“fuck it, we ball,” wooyoung grins, earning himself a scandalised look from hongjoong as a reminder he is still in the hospital. “come on, gramps,” he snickers, then loops an arm around the older’s shoulders and starts to drag him towards the main entrance, the rest of you falling into step beside them as he devises, “let’s think about how we can attack the two with snowballs once they get back.”

only, he really should have known who he was going to be up against.

you and your boyfriends are about halfway home, cutting through a small field of what is now covered in a decent layer of fresh snow, when a snowball suddenly whizzes past your face and explodes against the side of wooyoung’s head in a detonation of white crumbs. he whirls around with a shriek absolutely ready to risk it all in the name of your dared treachery, only to see yeosang getting pummelled in a similar fashion and then jongho following victim immediately after.

“snowball fight!” comes seonghwa and yunho’s combined battlecries from thin air before a hail of pre-made snowballs is unleashed upon your group.

hongjoong’s screams fill the air until he is abruptly cut off by a mouthful of snow and wooyoung runs around like a headless chicken as three snowballs hit their mark in quick succession. you laugh loudly, running to hide behind jongho who has escaped several feet away from the danger zone. san, too, starts to retreat a distance, but only to shovel snowballs together without the risk of anybody stepping on them.

a shower of residual snow sprinkles over you as yunho switches targets and pitches his snowballs in your direction. however, you rapidly realise his eyes are only fixated on jongho. your shield now a danger hazard, you make a split decision and run as fast as you can through the snow towards your tallest boyfriend. call yourself fickle or whatever, you are simply a survivor.

“traitor!” mingi yells out and points a finger at you. “y/n has switched sides!”

the boys echo with a roar, “traitor!” and you squeal with adrenalised glee as you leap the final stride towards yunho, who stretches out a hand to pull you behind him. seonghwa immediately rushes to defend you both, throwing snowball after snowball with scary precision and strength. you can only hear the solid thump of snow hitting against thick clothing and the splutters of indignation as a result of the eldest’s lobs because your eyes are closed from how hard you are now laughing.

with equally-as-scary unity, hongjoong and your five youngest boyfriends charge in simultaneity towards you and yunho. neither of you have time to brace yourselves before you are tackled into the snow, limbs tangling together as seonghwa also jumps on top.

you cannot tell who is who, but you can tell exactly whose laugh is whose–each one so distinct and playing out as different melodies in your ears. your own laughter is radiant and effervescent and the sound makes every one of your boys break out into a joyous smile. yunho starts to push the others’ weights off of himself and you, and they begin to roll off the pile into the snow around you.

one by one they join you on their backs, your bodies leaving the memory of your merriness deep in the white softness of the ground. you are all a little breathless; from the physical exertion and adrenaline of the childlike fight, from the windedness of being tackled into a dog-pile, from the chill slowly seeping in through your clothes from the snow, from the soul-stirring view of the night sky above.

you all lay there in silence, hush broken only by the scattered puffs of visible air as you catch your breaths under the whispering snowfall.

it is amazing how much can change in one year. you still fatigue from juggling your time, down to the last second. you still burn out from the sacrifices you make as a doctor, no matter your years of experience. you still grieve over the loss of seolhee, particularly on this day. but you are finally at peace with yourself, with your life and with the love you deserve, and you realise that you are also breathless from the overwhelming feeling of how lucky, content and happy you are.

in a burst of gratification and fulfillment, you are unable to stay silent. you confess, heartfelt words that you keep close to your soul every day, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling right now.”

your boys turn to look at you, gazes softening impossibly at the tranquil smile that adorns your face. seonghwa feels a heat gathering behind his eyes, knowing better than any of them the weight behind your confession.

he prompts, softly, tenderly, “and if it stops snowing?”

you smile wider, because you have been taught the answer by a forever-seven-year-old-girl who received all the bad things in the world yet chose to only see the good; who taught you not to focus on what has melted away, but rather what you remember; who taught you that the purest reflection of love is something that is hard to see but will always be looking over you.

and so if it stops snowing?

“then count the stars in the sky.”

[wtfaniii]

Req for a Hwang In-ho os with kind off parenting scenarios like what if by mistake a toddler was brought to the games and he ends up in the caretaker roll (and yes he gives off daddy vibes ya know !)

God I loved this one, I feel like him would be great protector.

¿What if...? a little girl entered the games

little girl x Hwang In-ho father figure

Summary: Your eleven-year-old self is taken to an island believing you'll be a little entertainment.

Warning: In-ho may not be that attached to the original character ¡this man will be a big hug bear here!

Note: I do my best to answer the rest of the requests, thanks for your support!! And if I make a mistake I accept constructive criticism!

You lived alone on the street, you didn't know anything about your parents and every day was a struggle until one day you saw a man in a suit playing Ddakji with another person, when you saw that he gave money as a reward if you beat him quickly went to him.

At first he ignored you and walked away with you right behind him but you were so persistent that after walking a few blocks he finally turned to with a raised eyebrow.

You played with him and won every time, received money and a card to continue playing for more money.

You didn't owe anything, he knew that, but he thought he was doing you a favor by opening the doors to the slaughterhouse, maybe it would be better than you continuing to sleep in a box and eat leftover food.

"She's going to die anyway, I'm just making her suffering shorter" thought the salesman.

What he didn't know is that a certain man would take a liking to you as soon as he saw you.

You played "green light, red light" and managed to get through without a scratch, you were scared but Gi-hun made sure to keep you safe during this game.

—¡They are bastards! ¡They brought a little girl for the love of God! —456 screamed to the sky as the ceiling loomed over their heads, the other player 390 covered your eyes so you wouldn't see all the carnage they left behind in the first round.

Meanwhile... The Front Man's firm footsteps echoed through the hallways as he made his way to the control booth, when he arrived, he spoke in a voice that chilled the blood of his employees.

—¿Who let her in?

He knew the salesman, he knew the heartless idiot had no empathy for even a puppy but the fact that these guards had dressed you up and put you in that arena gave him a headache.

When he was given the number of the one who allowed you to get into the first game, he personally took it upon himself to put a bullet in him head.

He thought about getting you out immediately but considering the fact that he would also be infiltrating there and how after that massacre you were playing and talking non-stop with 390 and 456 as if nothing had happened, he let you continue but this time under his personal supervision.

It was quite easy for him to infiltrate and join Gi-hun, keeping his enemy close would be very useful but he also kept his eyes on you.

—Eat this too —In-ho handed you his can of food when he saw how quickly you had finished the rice, sausage and egg.

—No thanks —The smile you gave him almost made his hard heart beat—You should eat too, but if you insist so much you can give me the sausages.

You finished with a smile, to which he returned the gesture and gave you part of his portion.

During the night he took care of covering you with the blanket so that you wouldn't be cold and of laying you in bed next to him in case you had a nightmare, but to his surprise and that of your new friends, you slept all night without interruptions.

When it was time to go to the next game, In-ho kept you by his side so that you would be on his team with Gi-hun.

His team made it to the end so he wasn't worried if they lost, if they did neither you nor he would have died and there would be no witnesses.

He would break just a few of the rules to stay you alive.

Every time some players were eliminated, you covered your ears and closed your eyes tightly, something that moved him so much that he also distracted you by talking to you every time the guards removed the bodies to prevent you from seeing all that show of death and blood.

After the second vote Jung-bae was sorry for choosing the circle so he apologized to you and Jun-hee.

—It's okay, as long as we're together ¡we'll win! —You said with a beaming smile as Young-il ruffled your hair in excitement.

The day seemed long in there, but you didn't get bored with Young-il. He told you some children's stories and played with you.

However, when you were playing with the empty milk carton you accidentally hit the back of player 100.

—Oops, sorry sir —You said politely, reaching out to grab the little box from the floor, but before you could do so, he stepped on it hard, stepping on two of your fingers of the hand in the process.

Your cry of pain caught In-ho's immediate attention, he cut off the conversation he was having with Gi-hun and went to you.

—¡¿How is it possible that you are still alive?! ¡You are just a little brat!

In-ho effortlessly picked you and hug against his chest.

With just one look he silenced the man, it wasn't a warning, it was a threat, that man had hurt you and he would make sure him paid the consequences, not now, but he would definitely suffer.

—I told you not to stray too far from me —He said as he walked back to his place with the others.

You just nodded still with tears in your eyes and hugging him by the neck, he left you on the bed and took your hand to analyze the damage.

—You didn't hurt yourself much, you'll be better after pouring cold water on yourself in the bath —He said trying to calm you down, he dried the tears from your cheeks and kissed your forehead, it was an act he did on impulse and it even surprised himself a little.

"You'll be a great father" Gi-hun told him when you were sleeping, which was strange, the last time he heard that was when his wife talked to him about starting a family, he silently thanked but deep down he felt different, as if you had been able to reach the light inside him, a light he had considered extinct.

During the third game he stayed close to you, every time it was time to team up and run into a room he made sure to hold your hand.

Until the time came to form a team of four, there were many in his group so you and he separated, the counter reached zero and In-ho managed to get you two into a room and close it.

—But we're missing two —You said somewhat nervously and scared while the shots rang out from outside.

—Listen to me —In-ho knelt in front of you and held your shoulders —I need you to keep this a secret,

He gave a quick glance to the camera in the corner, they weren't going to kill them even if they cheated but now he needed no one else to find out about this.

—But it's cheating... —You murmured, confused and still a little scared.

—Promise me you won't say anything about this, not to Gi-hun or the others.

You nodded silently, you didn't say anything and that, without knowing it, would cost the lives of some of your friends.

That same night, there was a rebellion organized by 456.

You wanted to go with them, believing yourself strong enough to help them, but Young-il opposed it.

—I'm not going to let you come with us—He said firmly as he took you by the hand and led you back to the rest of the players —It's dangerous, you will stay with them until we return.

He left you in the hands of 149, 222 and 007, the older woman was the one who had the most empathy for you so In-ho knew you would be fine until his guards came for you.

[...]

After returning to his place as Front man, he sent a group of guards to control the rest of the players in the room and get you out of there.

"Player 398, you must come with us" when you heard that and saw the guards coming towards you, you hugged 149, you were scared, after all you were a girl and didn't know what was happening.

Geum-ja also held you tightly to prevent you from being taken away but it was useless, In-ho was surprised by how you won the affection of her, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju and Myung-gi to the point that they were able to stand up to his soldiers.

As were led through the colorful hallways you bit the hand of one of the pink guards and kicked the other to escape, you had spent entire short life on the streets so escaping was one of your skills, the first thing you did was call some of your friends, including Young-il.

But there came a time when you started to cry, believing that they were dead and you sat on the ground, you remained there scared and worried until once again two guards found you, this time accompanied by a man dressed in grey and a black mask.

When you looked up, he could see your watery eyes and red nose, which made his affection for you grow and not caring about his own rules about secret identity, he took off his mask and crouched down to be at your level.

He didn't know what to say to you, how to handle this situation in which you were so confused and overwhelmed, so when you hugged him he just returned the gesture and got up from the floor with you.

—It's okay, you're going to be fine —He whispered to you calmly while caressing your hair.

In-ho didn't know anything about being a father, he hadn't thought about being one since his wife died but he would do everything possible to take care of you from now on, for a few seconds he thought about sending you with Jun-ho and his mother but he preferred not to, besides, you didn't want to leave him alone for even a second.

He would teach you how to use weapons and defend yourself, he would also try to get you to accompany him everywhere or remain under surveillance, you quickly became a weakness so the safer you are the safer he will be too.

He didn't explain everything to you in detail, much less what role he had in these games, he believed that you wouldn't forgive him so the less you know the better for you, but you weren't stupid, the life you had before meeting him made you analyze things better than many others.

You knew that whatever his job was, it wasn't good but you didn't judge him or talk to him.

To you, he was like your father and that would make you defend him tooth and nail from anyone who wanted to hurt him.

In case Gi-hun ends the games, Jun-ho would probably take responsibility for you and let you visit In-ho in prison, (when you're older, you'll probably help him escape and move to another continent).

But if not, you will probably be given the front man position when you grow up because you are trained enough by this man, you will be calculating and probably a younger, female version of him.

N/A: Ok, I hope this is what you expected and thanks for this idea!

I honestly think In-ho wouldn't canonically take responsibility for a child, maybe he would protect sometimes like 222, but I don't think he would care afterwards, that man is beyond help 😭

[rafecameronssl4t]

Saving Grace || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,051

MASTERLIST

Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.

If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.

But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.

The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.

And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.

~

As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.

You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.

The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.

“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.

No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.

“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Derek a long long time ago, and JJ around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You’ve since been introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you���d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.

[hameesstuff]

"Ink And Ice"

Pairing: Arranged husband ceo! Jaehyun (single dad) x Wife Artist! Reader

Themes: Arranged marriage, slow burn, lots of angsttttt, fluffy end, smut.

Word Count: ~6.2k

Preview: After losing his first wife, Jaehyun swore he'd never open his heart again. After her death, Jaehyun gave all his love to his daughter, guarding his heart from anyone else. Cold and distant, he kept you at arm’s length—until your quiet warmth and love slowly brought him back to life. One argument and night changes everything.

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The Vows You Didn’t Write

The courthouse is silent, cold in its marble expanse. A place where deals are made in signatures, not sentiments. And that’s exactly what today is—a deal. A transaction masked as a wedding.

You're wearing a cream-colored dress, nothing extravagant, but still too soft for the man standing beside you.

Jung Jaehyun.

CEO of Jung Group. A man you’d seen on the news years ago, at charity galas with his late wife. The perfect family. Until she passed away in a tragic accident two years ago, leaving him with their daughter. Since then, he’s worn grief like armor—tailored suits, expensive watches, and a gaze colder than any winter sky.

And now, he’s your husband.

His hand brushes yours when he signs the marriage certificate. No ring. No vows. Just ink.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he says, voice low, businesslike. “I’ll handle everything.”

You glance up. “Except your daughter.”

That earns the faintest flicker of something behind his eyes. Annoyance? Pain? You can’t tell. He doesn’t answer.

Soa. Five years old. A dimpled smile and big brown eyes that don’t yet understand what losing a mother means. She clung to you the first time you met like she’d known your soul in a past life. You don’t know what you did to earn it, but she loves you already.

And it terrifies you more than marrying a man who doesn’t.

The Guest Room Wife

The mansion is everything you'd expect from Jung Jaehyun—coldly beautiful. Not warm. Not welcoming. White walls, minimalist furniture, the soft hum of silence stretching through every corridor.

You’re shown to a guest room. Not the bedroom. Not his.

“This is where you’ll stay,” Jaehyun says, setting your suitcase down like he’s done it for employees at business trips. “It has a private bath. Soa’s room is just down the hall.”

You nod. “I’m not here to make things complicated.”

He pauses at the door. “Good.”

That night, you unpack in silence. You take out your paints even though he never asked what you do, what you love. You work with your hands—canvas, color, emotion. He works with numbers, walls, and contracts.

You barely see him.

But Soa? She starts appearing everywhere.

At breakfast, climbing onto your lap.

At night, asking for one more story, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

In the mornings, waiting outside your door like you’re the sun rising just for her.

And with every laugh, every question she throws your way, your heart sinks deeper. You weren’t supposed to care this much.

One night, she holds your hand and whispers, “You smell like Mommy used to.”

You don’t cry. Not then. But you do later, alone, in the dark room Jaehyun gave you.

Dinner for Three

The first time you all sit down together is a week after the wedding.

A silent dinner table. Glass and granite. A bottle of wine unopened between you. Jaehyun scrolls through something on his phone while Soa chatters about a butterfly drawing she made in school.

“I told my teacher my new mommy paints better than anyone,” she says proudly.

Jaehyun’s hand stills on the screen.

You glance at him, unsure if he’ll correct her.

He doesn’t.

“That’s sweet, Soa,” you reply softly, your voice barely breaking through the weight of the silence.

Later, as you help clean up, you ask Jaehyun quietly, “You’re uncomfortable when she calls me that, aren’t you?”

His jaw tenses. “She barely remembers her real mother. I don’t want her attaching too quickly to—”

“To me,” you finish, sharper than you intended.

He turns then. His gaze pins you to the spot. Cold. Controlled. “To anyone she could lose.”

You understand, but it still hurts.

Because no matter how kind you are, how careful, he’s already decided you’re temporary.

Ink on His Desk

You never meant to leave the painting there.

It was just a sketch—quick, raw, done late one night after Soa fell asleep on your lap. Her curled body in a blanket, one hand clinging to your shirt. You drew her in seconds, as if your hands remembered a pose from another lifetime.

You left it on the kitchen counter.

But in the morning, it’s gone.

And that afternoon, you see it on Jaehyun’s desk—framed.

He doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t look at you. Just signs documents with precise strokes as if nothing in the world has shifted.

But it has.

Because for the first time, your art is in his world. In the center of it. And that means something.

The Argument

It starts with something stupid.

You ask if he’ll be late again—Soa’s been asking for him every night, falling asleep near the front door.

He says, “My daughter is not your responsibility.”

You stare at him. “She is now. Whether you like it or not.”

Jaehyun looks up, cold. “I didn’t ask for this marriage. And neither did she.”

You step forward, voice low and shaking. “Then why marry me at all? Just to have someone warm your guest room and pretend you’re still functioning?”

That cracks something.

His voice rises—not loud, but furious. “Because my mother wouldn't stop. Because Soa needed someone. Because I needed a body beside mine to make everyone think I was still alive. Is that what you want to hear?”

You breathe in through your teeth. “You’re a coward, Jaehyun.”

“And you—” he steps closer, eyes burning, “—you’re a dreamer who walked into hell thinking you could paint over the fire.”

You whisper, “I wasn’t trying to fix you. I just wanted to be seen.”

The silence after is louder than anything.

Then, finally, he whispers back, hoarse: “I see you.”

And he walks out.

But something has changed.

Because this time, he doesn’t slam the door.

The Shift

The next week is different.

Jaehyun comes home earlier. Watches Soa paint beside you on the balcony. Asks questions about your gallery work. Not often. Just a few. But they land heavily.

One night, he stands in the doorway while you read to Soa. Doesn’t say anything. Just… stays.

When Soa is asleep, you pass him in the hall. Neither of you speak. But your hands brush.

Dinner Scene – The Breaking Point

The long dining table was filled with idle chatter, wine glasses clinking, and laughter that felt too forced to be real. You sat quietly beside Jaehyun, his expression unreadable as he scrolled through his phone between half-hearted bites.

Across the table, Minho—Jaehyun’s cousin—hadn’t stopped running his mouth since you’d arrived. His comments were laced with mockery, each one digging deeper beneath your skin.

"So," Minho began again, swirling the red wine in his glass, his eyes fixed shamelessly on you, "how’s the art world treating you? Still painting... flowers and naked women, or just your own reflection these days?”

You froze, your hand gripping the fork a little tighter.

Minho leaned forward, voice dropping to something too smooth, too smug. “Can’t lie, though. The idea of you covered in paint, messy and bare… now that’s a portrait I wouldn’t mind seeing up close.”

The table fell silent. Even the air seemed to still.

Jaehyun looked up slowly, and for a moment, no one moved. Then, without a word, he stood. The chair screeched back violently, and in two long strides, he was across the table.

“Jaehyun—” someone gasped.

He grabbed Minho by the collar and shoved him hard against the wall with a thud. Dishes clattered. Soa flinched where she sat. Shock rippled through the room.

Jaehyun’s voice was deadly low, face inches from his cousin’s. “You ever speak to her like that again, I swear to God—”

“Jae,” you said softly, standing now, your voice breaking through the haze of his fury. “Let him go. Please.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, jaw tight, hand still fisted in Minho’s shirt. You reached him slowly, gently placing your hand on his arm. “You don’t need to do this. I’m okay. Come back.”

His eyes finally flicked to you—stormy, tormented, and wide with something unspoken. His grip loosened, and Minho slid down the wall, coughing.

Jaehyun didn’t say a word. He just turned, hand brushing against yours for a fleeting second, and walked out of the room.

The house had finally gone quiet. Soa had fallen asleep curled into her blanket, clutching the stuffed bunny you painted flowers on months ago. Jaehyun had kissed her forehead gently, lingering longer than usual, as if needing her peace to steady the storm still curling in his chest.

When he stepped into the bedroom, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your robe loose around you, eyes tired and pained.

“I scared you,” he said, voice hoarse. “And I scared her. I—I lost control.”

You didn’t speak, only looked up at him, your silence a gentle kind of patience that made his throat tighten.

He walked over, dropped to his knees in front of you, and pressed his forehead to your stomach.

“I hated myself tonight,” he whispered. “For letting that bastard talk about you like you were nothing. For pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is—I can’t stand the idea of anyone looking at you the way he did. I’ve been running from this… from you. But you’re the only thing that’s felt real since her. Since everything broke.”

Your fingers slipped into his hair as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

“I see you,” you whispered. “Even when you hide. Even when you push me away.”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with something vulnerable and raw. “Do you still want me? After how I’ve been?”

You leaned down, kissed him softly—an answer he didn’t deserve but one you gave anyway.

He rose, cupped your cheeks with shaking hands, and kissed you again, slower this time. With trembling reverence. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was quiet, gentle… like worship.

“Let me love you tonight,” he said, voice breaking. “As my wife. Not a contract. Not a convenience. Just… mine.”

Clothes were discarded in silence, not in heat but in need—skin to skin, breath to breath. He held you like you were fragile and fierce all at once. His lips brushed your shoulder, your chest, your belly, lingering over every inch of you as though memorizing the story you carried beneath your skin.

When he slid inside you, it wasn’t hurried. It was a sigh, a homecoming. You gasped his name softly, hands clutching his back as he moved with you—slow, steady, grounding.

“I see you,” he whispered into your neck. “I want all of you. The stubbornness, the paint-stained fingers, the warmth you gave Soa when I was too afraid to feel. You are my family now.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and he kissed them away as he moved deeper inside you, every thrust heavy with emotion, with gratitude, with aching love he no longer knew how to contain.

When you fell apart beneath him, trembling, your eyes locked with his—and he followed with a gasp, like a man letting go of grief in the arms of someone who brought him back to life.

Later, curled against him beneath the blankets, your head on his chest, he played with your fingers in silence. Then he whispered, “You were never just someone who walked into my life.”

You looked up.

“You’re the reason it started again.”

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you felt it for the first time—not just desire. Not even just love.

You felt chosen.

Morning After

The morning sun spilled quietly through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred slowly, sore in the most tender way, muscles aching with the memory of how Jaehyun had held you—how he’d loved you like he was finally ready to feel again.

Your hand reached across the sheets instinctively and found him still there.

Jaehyun lay on his side, facing you, eyes already open, watching you like he still couldn’t believe you were real. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Didn’t sleep,” he murmured. “Just… didn’t want to miss it. Waking up like this. With you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You look tired.”

“I feel…” he searched for the word. “Clean. Like something broke open and I can breathe again.”

Your fingers traced the edge of his jaw, thumb brushing the faint shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re allowed to rest now, Jaehyun.”

His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on your belly. “Soa has been calling you ‘Mom’ more lately,” he whispered. “She’s never done that with anyone else.”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “She’s… she’s everything to me.”

“I know.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips—soft, slow, sacred. “That’s why I love you.”

The bedroom door creaked open just then, and Soa peeked in, her bunny clutched to her chest.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

Jaehyun sat up slightly. “Come here, baby.”

She scrambled in, crawling up between you, curling into your side like she’d always belonged there. Her small hand reached for yours—and then rested gently on your belly.

“Morning, Mommy,” she said sleepily.

You didn’t correct her.

Jaehyun wrapped his arm around both of you, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and then yours.

And in that still, sacred silence, with your family wrapped around you, nothing else in the world mattered.

Epilogue:

You watched Jaehyun play with Soa in the living room. The little girl, now six years old, was laughing as Jaehyun lifted her high into the air, her giggles filling the room and making your heart swell. Soa had grown so much in the years since she’d come into your life, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for how seamlessly she had accepted you as her mother.

Jaehyun glanced over at you, his eyes soft with affection, before he made his way toward you. He knelt beside the couch, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before resting his hand on your belly. "How’s our little one doing?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

You smiled up at him, feeling the baby kick softly beneath your skin. "I think they’re just as excited to meet you as you are," you said with a laugh.

Soa sat beside you on the couch, her small hand gently pressed against your belly. “Hi, baby!” she whispered, her eyes wide with excitement. “I can feel you moving!”

Jaehyun chuckled from across the room, watching the heartwarming scene. “She’s already got her big sister skills down,” he said, sitting beside you.

With a laugh, you leaned against Jaehyun, watching Soa talk to the baby with all the love in her heart. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful—a new chapter, full of laughter and family. A new beginning.

The End.

Feedback is welcome ;)

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[ham-st4r]

Coffee & Cream - L. HS

Pairing: virgin heeseung + virgin female reader!

Warnings: love making, unprotected intimacy, angst, lots of crying, jealously, cursing, verbal and physical abuse, alcohol, blood, violence, assault, injuries, police, pet abuse, pregnancy, lots of fluff, heeseung is adopted, homelessness, slowest of slow burn, fairytale, they both just little softies for each other.

Summary: one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.

Number of words: 36k+?

Note: Hello, everyone. Here It is, finally. I’m so happy with how it turned out. This is by far my favorite story of all, so I hope you enjoy it. sorry for the long wait; I just wanted it to be perfect, and I think I achieved that. Please, please, please reblog and leave feedback. I put a lot into this, so I’d love to hear all of your opinions. With that being said, thank you all for being patient with me. I present to you

“Coffee & Cream”

Find your way around!

9:03 pm

You were on your way home from work with nothing but the idea of sleep on your mind after the tiresome shift you had just finished working. You walked a few blocks down the road, arriving at the bus stop minutes later. You reached for your bag to get your payment ready, and that's when you realized you had forgotten it at work, which left you with absolutely no money for the bus and instead of going back to the cafe you worked at to get your bag you opted to power through the walk home, even though your feet were killing you. "Come on, y/n, you got this, just a little longer." You gave yourself a pep talk on the way there. It wasn't that long of a walk from the cafe, so you'd be home soon enough. It was just very inconvenient.

You picked up your pace a bit. After all, it was well past nine, and you didn't know what kind of danger you might run into, especially as a woman walking alone at night.

Walking further down the road, you slowed your steps when you saw a man bent over rummaging through a trash bin, and your heart immediately softened.

You assumed he was probably searching for empty cans to collect money or maybe even something to eat, which made you undeniably sad.

You always had a soft spot for the homeless and less fortunate, and whenever you could, you'd always lend them a helping hand, not only cause you would want someone to do the same for you if you were in their situation but also because you were a person with a big heart and you wanted to give back when and wherever you could.

You reached for your bag again to give the man some money, but obviously, it wasn't there cause you had negligently left it at work. "Darn," you sighed softly. You contemplated going back, but by now, they had probably already closed down for the night, and you didn't want to trouble the employees who were cleaning and getting ready to go home.

You patted down all your pockets in search of spare change, and to your luck and the homeless man's luck, you found two whole dollars, which, now that you thought about it, you could have used for the bus, but oh well, it was going to better use now anyways. "Excuse me, sir," you said softly as you walked towards the unknown man. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to give this to you."

"I don't need your help," he replied in a harsh tone, making you frown instantly, you thought he would have been happy to receive the money, but he almost sounded offended that you even offered.

However, you didn't let it get your mood down. You just left the two bills on the bench next to him and continued your journey home.

Heeseung took a glance at your back while you walked home, then at the money you had set down, and as much as he didn't want to, he took the two dollars you gave him cause he knew he'd be looking for bottles and cans till early morning just to get enough to buy himself some dinner for the night.

He zipped up his hoodie and went to the convenience store across the street, grabbing three items off the shelf and paying for them. With the money you gave him, he bought two cups of ramen and a single meat stick.

He walked to the back of the store and prepared the noodles. Once they were done, he sat down in the corner of the store, slurping up the ramen within just a few minutes. He hadn't eaten in three whole days, and he cherished every last bite of that meal. Finally, he could get some peace and quiet without his stomach rumbling every other minute.

Once he finished eating, he left the store, blowing a deep breath into the chilly night air as he headed back to what he called home, which was an alleyway that was only a few blocks from the convenience store.

He whistled down the narrow path, and he couldn't help but smile as he heard the familiar sound of a mental chain rustling against the pavement. "Hey, boy!" He kneeled down in front of his dog, Mylo, who was giving him thousands of little kisses everywhere. "Did you miss me?" Mylo jumped on his lap and licked all over his cheeks excitedly. "Yes, you did," heeseung giggled. "I got you something!" He pulled the beef stick from his pocket, and Mylo's ears perked up at the sound of the plastic being torn. "Here you go, buddy!" Mylo was absolutely ravenous, and ten seconds didn't even pass before the whole thing was completely devoured.

Heeseung couldn't help but feel bad as Mylo sniffed the empty packaging, searching for more food. "I'm sorry, Buddy, that's all there is". Mylo let out a sad whimper, nudging the empty plastic with his nose, and his ears drooped down when he realized there was nothing left. "I know, I know, come here." heeseung wrapped Mylo up in his arms, stroking his back while he hugged him. "Don't be sad, buddy. Daddy's got an interview in a few days, and we'll be off the street in no time. You'll have more dog treats than you even know what to do with promise," Mylo's eyes lit up at the mention of dog treats, one of the few words he actually understood. "Yeah, you like the idea of that, huh?" Heeseung said with a chuckle, reaching into his dingy bag and grabbing Mylo's makeshift dog bowl, which was made of a gallon jug with the top half cut off. He filled it with some sink water he got from the convenience store and served it to Mylo. "Drink up," he said, lying down on his sleeping bag. He released a deep sigh while Mylo lapped up his water.

Heeseung wasn't always homeless, but that didn't mean his life was any better than it was out here on the streets.

After all, being adopted into an abusive family wasn't his ideal childhood, nor was it an experience that he wished for; nevertheless, he didn't have a choice but to live with them after his biological parents so willingly gave him away.

He doesn't know why his real parents would have a child and then just throw them into the world to grow up with complete strangers.

A part of him wanted to know why, but he wasn't ready for the truth cause he was afraid that the answer would be far from good.

He knew he wouldn't be able to accept it, knowing that his parents had him by mistake, or maybe he would just be a burden to them, or maybe they abandoned him cause they just didn't love him.

No matter the reason, he was too scared to find out, so he convinced himself that maybe they just didn't have money to feed an extra mouth, or maybe his parents were too busy and they gave him to an adoption center so he could find a loving family that would take care of him.

Those all sounded better than all the previous options, so as the years passed by, he never resented his parents for giving him up for adoption. Instead, he created a good image of them in his head and believed strongly that no matter where they were, they were thinking about him and loving him from afar.

And that positivity is what kept him going for so long. It's what made him the man he is today. Well, that and Mylo.

Even growing up with adoptive parents who abused him, he always looked on the bright side, but he could only take so much, and after the verbal abuse turned physical, he walked out without looking back. There was no way he could stay there. The only thing he took with him was his dog Mylo, who was always by his side through thick and thin.

Heeseung remembers the first and only time when his father hit him. He was playing around the house with his basketball ball, and being a careless young kid having fun, he accidentally threw the ball across the living room and shattered his father's 75" TV. As soon as the TV hit the floor, he knew that he was in big trouble, so he ran to the dining room and hid under the kitchen table, attempting to hide from his dad. Needless to say, that wasn't much of a shelter cause his dad easily yanked the chairs from the table and pulled him out by his leg.

He remembers crying in fear and apologizing over and over again. He begged his father not to hit him, but his dad didn't listen, and he pulled his belt from the loops on his pants, whipping him countless times with the leather, leaving large welts all over his small arms and legs. "No wonder your parents gave you up. You're nothing but a useless pain in the ass," his dad yelled at him as he continued hitting him.

That incident is how heeseung found out that he was adopted in the first place, and he cried even harder as he laid there and took every blow, too shocked by the devastating news to even fight back.

Soon, the blows came to a sudden stop, and he heard Mylo growling. Everything had happened so fast, and before he knew it, Mylo was biting his dad on his arm, sinking his large fangs and puncturing his dad's flesh. "Ow, get off me, you stupid dog!" His dad then turned to Mylo and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying across the room and making him whimper in pain. "I'm not done with you, you hear me." he pointed his finger in the crying boy's face, and little did anyone know that would be the last time heeseung saw his family.

Mylo ran over to heeseung, nudging his cheek with his muzzle.

Heeseung overheard his dad calling his mother, and that's when he used the chance to escape. He ran out the front door with Mylo and his leash, and that was the start of his homelessness.

But he didn't have a choice. It was either to get abused or run away, and running away seemed like the safer option.

Despite being homeless, he wouldn't change his mind about the decision he made all those years ago. Living out here was hard, but living with people who were supposed to love you but treated you like you were less than human was harder than anything he'd ever faced in his entire life. He expected that from strangers, not family.

Once Mylo finished his water, he snuggled up next to heeseung, licking his cheek a few times before resting his head on his chest. "Goodnight, boy." heeseung kissed his head and shielded him from the cold air with his shaggy hoodie. Today was rough, but at least they had food in their stomachs, and at this point, Heeseung couldn't ask for more as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

☕️.

"Can this place get any busier?" You said to yourself as you heard the doorbell ring, indicating that more customers were flooding into the small cafe.

"I'd say so," your co-worker Sunghoon replied as a group of students came bustling through the very busy doors one after the other. "No break for us" he chuckled and made his way over to the cash register.

"Tell me about it," you say as you finish cleaning the dishes and get everything ready to prepare the nonstop orders coming in.

A few minutes later, sunghoon came to the back, dragging his feet with his shoulders slumped. "Can you take orders for me, and I'll make them? I think my head is going to explode if I hear iced Americano one more time." he sighed and rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "Where's Niki when you need him?"

“Off enjoying his vacation remember?” You chuckled softly. "Hang in there." You pat his shoulder. "Only five more hours," you say, adding to his misery.

"Now, why would you remind me? Like seriously, what is wrong with you?" He glared at you, but you knew he was only kidding, partially anyway.

You giggled at his expression on your way out of the back to switch places with him and take orders.

That's just the relationship you had with each other day in and day out. Joking about each other's misery was what got you through the long and dreadful days of working at the cafe; some days were good, some days were bad, and some days, like today, were the definition of hell.

Surprisingly enough, it came to an end much sooner than you had both expected, but the time does fly when you're busy. "We don't get paid enough for this," Sunghoon grumbled while wiping down the last table as it was now closing time.

"But it pays the bills," you chimed as you cleared the register.

"That it does," he hummed. "I'll finish closing for the night. You should head home before it gets any darker," he advises, knowing you normally walk or take the bus home.

"Aww, sunghoon, you're the best," you squeal. "You're always so considerate."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, but you could tell deep down he was happy by the little smile forming on his lips.

"Lunch is on me tomorrow. You can get anything you want," You promise.

"I'm holding you to it!" he shouted so you could hear him in the back as you gathered your belongings, not forgetting your bag like the last time.

"See you tomorrow!" You waved on your way out.

"See you, y/n. Be safe." he waved bye after he let you out and locked the doors behind you.

You shivered as the cold wind blew across your face. It was chilly but somehow refreshing after being cooped up all day. You breathed in the night air and decided to walk home again instead of taking the bus after your busy day. Tonight, you would like to take a break from being surrounded by so many people.

You took the same sidewalk home as before, and just like last night, you saw the same man from yesterday digging in another garbage bin.

You automatically reached inside your purse and took out the first bill you found, which just so happened to be twenty dollars. Despite the questionable pay at the cafe, you did make great money in tips, so twenty dollars was really nothing to fret about for you. "Here you go, sir," you said politely.

Heeseung turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, and he saw you standing there, extending your hand out to him with a twenty-dollar bill. He knew you were the same girl from last night cause of your work attire. He couldn't understand why you were trying to help him. Most people didn't even look his way, let alone give him any change when he begged for it, so why were you? Especially after the way he treated you last night.

He looked at you, a blank expression on his face while you smiled genuinely and beckoned him to take the money.

Before heeseung could tell you off, Mylo's ears perked up at the sound of your voice, and he jumped off the bench to greet you, nearly tackling you in the process. "Woah! Where did you come from?" You giggled as he slobbered all over your face. You didn't mind it at all. You had a German shepherd at home, and she was the same exact way every time you got back home from work. "What's your name, Hmm?" You talked to him in a cutesy voice while you patted his head, searching for a name tag, but you frowned when you didn't see one.

"Mylo!" Heeseung said sternly and tried to tug him back, but he wouldn't listen. Usually, He was a very well-trained and well-behaved dog, but sometimes, even Heeseung couldn't get him to listen. "I'm so sorry," heeseung said to you as he grabbed Mylo by his collar and held him back.

"It's quite alright. Nice meeting you, Mylo." You waved to him while heeseung held him back. "Here, take it." You extended your hand once again, giving him the twenty-dollar bill.

"I'm fine," heeseung declined rudely and turned around, getting ready to walk back home empty-handed.

"You may be fine, but what about that guy? A big dog like him, I'm sure he's hungry all the time," you reasoned cause you could literally feel his spine when you were petting him, and you're sure he probably needed to eat even more than your shepherd and that's saying a lot considering she ate pretty heartily.

Heeseung took a peek at Mylo, and you were right. He was huge, and Heeseung knew he wasn't getting half the nutrition he needed, especially with the fall coming soon, so he reluctantly took the cash. It was humiliating to accept help from others, but he swallowed his pride for Mylo's sake. "Say thank you," heeseung said to Mylo, and he walked towards you, brushing his head against your leg before going back to heeseung's side, panting softly and waging his tail excitedly.

You smiled at how well he was trained. Your dog definitely wasn't as well behaved as him. She was actually clumsy and quite the opposite. "Well, have a good night," you said to heeseung, and he just nodded his head. "And you too, Mylo." You continued your short walk home, and once you arrived, you could hear your fluffy friend barking and scratching from outside the door. "Hi!" You said excitedly as you opened the door and greeted her. 

She sniffed you intensely. At first, you were confused by her odd behavior, but realized that she was probably smelling Mylo's strong scent on you. She looked at you and tilted her head to the side with what you assumed to be curiosity. "Yeah, I met a dog just like you," you said in a baby voice. "He was big and brown and cute." She sat down in front of you, wagging her tail excitedly. "And his name is Mylo…" you trailed off as you thought about the similarities in their names. "Mylo and Myla, what a coincidence," you said as you walked over to your kitchen and refilled her food and water bowls. "Maybe you two could meet sometime," you said out loud, but she paid no attention to you as she dug into her food straight away. "Oh, I see, you're too good for boys, huh?" You laughed and patted her head before going to your living room and plopping down on the couch. "What is there to watch?" you scrolled through endless shows, and before something piqued your interest, you had dozed off on the couch with the TV still on.

☕️.

Later that same night, heeseung went to the convenience shop and bought some proper food for Mylo. "Wait here," he said to Mylo and tied his leash to the bike rack outside before going into the store. 

Once he grabbed the bag of dog food, he went straight to the register to pay, not without getting a judging look from the cashier first, but that was nothing new to him. If the number of glares he received were in the form of a dime, he'd be rich.

Kind of ironic.

"Your total is 8,59$" the cashier mumbled, and heeseung handed him the twenty dollar bill that you had given to him.

He looked out the store window while he was getting rung up and saw a group of boys surrounding the bike rack where he'd left Mylo. He stretched his neck to see if anything was happening, and he heard loud barking just a few seconds later. "Mylo!" He gasped in panic and ran out of the store immediately. All of the kids quickly scattered and ran near some bushes at the back of the store where they couldn't be spotted. "Hey!" Heeseung called out to them, but he didn't see the direction where they had all run off to. He just hoped they were long gone from the area. "Are you okay, buddy?" He bent down worriedly, checking Mylo for any injuries, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found none, but unfortunately, they had cut big patches out of his fur, destroying his lovely coat. "Oh, thank god," he whispers, hugging Mylo tightly while on his knees. "You're too nice, boy. You should have bit the crap out of 'em" he laughed quietly and stroked his back. "I'll be right back, okay?"

He quickly ran back into the store to grab the food and his change, making sure to check the window every second in case the kids came back. "Time to go home and have dinner." heeseung left the store and unhooked Mylo's leash, walking him across the street to the alleyway they stayed at. Little did he know the same kids from the earlier saw exactly where he and Mylo went.

"Look what I got!" He said excitedly while pouring Mylo a bowl of kibble. "Eat up." heeseung patted his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he watched Mylo digging in. "It's good, huh?" He chuckled. "Yeah, it is."

After Mylo ate, heeseung spent the rest of the night cuddling with him and singing him many different songs until they both drifted off to sleep together.

☕️.

You awoke to your face being licked and slobber wetting your cheeks, and, of course, you knew who the culprit was. "Good morning to you, too, myla." You sat up and stretched, looking at the time and seeing that you overslept for the millionth time this week. "Are you kidding me?" You rubbed your eyes tiredly. "Myla, why did you let me oversleep?" You played with her floppy ears, and she just wagged her tail, not understanding a lick of what you were saying.

You did your morning routine faster than the speed of light, and you spilled not only water but her kibble as well in your hurry so as not to be late for work. "Sorry, myla, see you later!" After you left, she curled up by the front door and huffed out a breath, missing you already.

You made it to work right on time, and the store was packed just like yesterday. Your brain was scattered from it still being early in the morning, but as soon as you punched in, you somehow managed to put on your apron, compose yourself, and take orders efficiently.

You knew the day would be a long, tiring one.

☕.

"Wait for me here, Buddy, and don't be noisy. Daddy will be back soon, okay?" Mylo sat down obediently while heeseung shielded him from the wind and made his way out of the alley.

He went to the nearest bus stop and waited impatiently for the bus to arrive. About five minutes later, he bought a ticket and was boarding to head to his job interview.

He took his seat and looked outside the window, enjoying the ride and scenery. Riding the bus definitely beats walking, but he didn’t have the luxury to ride it every day; he would only take the bus on special occasions like today.

Fifteen minutes later, the bus stopped and dropped him off at his designated location.

He walked into the tall building, taking one long breath, preparing himself for the interview before going to the restrooms to freshen himself up.

He quickly brushed his teeth as best as he could without a toothbrush and washed his face with hand soap from the dispenser. He sighed at his dingy appearance. Dark eye bags, unruly hair, and a scruffy face stared back at him in the reflection. "You can do this," he mumbled to himself and turned off the water, slicking his hair back with his fingers and changing into a cleaner shirt he kept in his backpack.

He exited the bathroom and went to the front desk to inform the receptionist of his upcoming interview. "Hi, my name is heeseung. I have an interview at four thirty with Mrs. Kim," he spoke softly to the receptionist as she typed in some information and made a phone call. "Take a seat anywhere you like, and she'll be right with you, sir."

"Thank you." heeseung smiled politely and took a seat.

A few moments later, a woman looking to be in her mid-forties approached him. "Hi! You must be heeseung?" She asked, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Y-yes, hello," heeseung replied nervously.

"Right this way." She led him to the back where her office was and shut the door behind him. "Have a seat." She sat down after him, leafing through some files. "Mmm," she frowned when she didn't see a resume under his name.

Heeseung gulped, nervously bouncing his leg up and down.

"I'm not seeing your resume." She looked through more documents and still came up with nothing.

"I uhh don't have any prior experience, ms." he looked down at his lap; whatever confidence he had completely disappeared at that moment.

"Well, you must have some prior experience in the work field. Tell me about your previous jobs." She closes the folder and places it on her desk, looking at him with a smile.

"This is the first time I've ever been interviewed," he said quietly. "I've never worked before."

Heeseung shifted uncomfortably when she looked over his appearance. "First time for everything, I suppose. What about school? Did you get a GED or graduate?"

"No, ms" he shook his head, and he had a bad feeling about what was going to come next.

Ms Kim let out a long sigh and rested back in her chair. "Well, heeseung, I'm sure you're a fine young man, but without any credentials, I simply cannot hire you for this job because we require a high level of education along with years of experience with very few exceptions in between,"

"But ms, please, I need this job. I can learn if you just give me a chance, I promise," he pleads.

"I'm sorry, but our company policies state otherwise. If it were up to me, I'd give you a shot, but-"

"You don't understand I need this job. I'll do anything, please, I beg of you," he says, desperation seeping into his tone.

"I'm sorry heeseung-"

"Sorry isn't going to fix my situation!" He raised his voice. "I can't live out there anymore. Do you hear me? I need to get off the street. It's not safe for me or my dog."

"Sir-"

"Please, ms! I have nothing! Can't you see?" He begged desperately, tears gathering in his eyes cause this was the one opportunity he needed to get on his feet, and he could feel it slipping out of his grasp.

Ms Kim had already hit the security button under her desk, and heeseung was being held back by his arms within seconds. "Get off me. I'm not doing anything wrong, ms Kim. Please give me a chance. I'll do anything." Tears rolled down his face as he got escorted out of the building by security. Once they had kicked him out, he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Fuck!" He yelled and punched the side of the building, gaining the attention of the other citizens passing by, but he didn't care.

"Just fucking great," he said once he cooled down a bit and took a look at his wounded hand. He trudged down the sidewalk, completely demotivated, as he returned to the bus stop. "No job, no money, and an injured hand," he mumbled to himself on the way there, and he hung his head low while boarding the bus. "At least Mylo's waiting for me at home," he says, trying to look on the bright side of his very, very shitty day.

He stepped off the bus when it came to a complete stop. He was about to walk home, but his stomach growled. He tried to ignore it, but after he took another step, it happened again and again and again.

He supposed he should probably get something to eat cause it has been a full day without food, and he knew his stomach wouldn't stop until he got some type of nutrition in his body. Thankfully, he still had eleven dollars and some change from the money you'd given him the other night, so he could make good use of that.

He took in his surroundings; there was a small cafe a few blocks away, and he could definitely use a coffee to boost his rotten mood.

☕️.

You finally got a break between customers, but soon enough, the bell rang again, and you saw a man walk in. You did a double take, and if your eyes weren't mistaken, it was the homeless man you had been giving money to the past few nights. He looked a little better today, which made you smile brightly before walking to the register to take his order. "Hello sir, what can I get started on for you?" You asked politely and awaited his order.

He finally made eye contact with you and recognized that you were the girl who had been giving him money the past few nights. "I'll have a small black coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please." he places his order.

You nodded with a smile and gave him his total. "That will be 6.03$." 

He reached into his pocket, searching for the money, and his brows creased in confusion when he only saw a five and some change. It didn't take long for him to realize what had happened at the store last night. He didn't look at his cash back before leaving and must've been shorted on his change. "That fucker” he mumbled under his breath, and that was the last straw for him today.

"It's on me, so don't worry about it," you said kindly when you saw he didn't have enough money to pay, but it was fine. You'd be more than happy to pay for his meal and make his day just a little bit easier on him.

"I already told you I don't need your fucking help!" He yelled, drawing attention to himself at the register. "Just mind your own fucking business and leave me alone. I'm pathetic enough; I don't need your pity." You flinched at his harsh tone, and he turned away from the register, storming out of the cafe, leaving you shocked and rendered speechless.

"What a fucking psycho," Sunghoon said, appearing from the back after hearing all the ruckus upfront. "Sorry, I couldn't come sooner. Are you okay?" He asked and patted your back comfortingly.

"Y-yeah, just a little startled, that's all." You blinked a few times to try and collect yourself from the homeless man's sudden outburst.

"Do you know him? What did he mean by not wanting your help?" Sunghoon asked curiously.

"I… don't want to talk about it right now." Sunghoon immediately backed off when he saw the uncomfortable look on your face.

"Hey, why don't you take a break? It's slowed down a bit, so I can handle the register," He offers.

"Thanks, hoon," you said with a small smile, still a bit miffed by what just happened.

☕.

"Hey, Mylo," heeseung mumbled. Once he returned home, Mylo perked up, greeting him with kisses immediately. "No kisses for me today, Buddy. Daddy's been a very bad man," he sighed and laid on his sleeping bag, trying to close his eyes and sleep. However, it was far too noisy at this time of day, and his stomach still wouldn't stop growling, but after the shit day he had, he didn't feel like going out to eat or search for cans.

Time seemed to pass by slower than ever, especially with the mood he was in, but at least Mylo seemed happy eating his kibble.

He thought about everything that happened earlier today, and no matter what, he couldn't get the look of your startled face out of his head or the way he unintentionally harassed ms Kim. He's lucky he just got kicked out and nothing more. "I'm such an asshole" heeseung covered his face with his palms sighing out loud.

Mylo nudged his elbow, but Heeseung still wouldn't budge. He kept his face down as tears gathered in his eyes.

Today was probably the worst day he'd ever had, and everything just kept piling up on him day by day.

He couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, there wasn't even a tunnel at this point, and if Mylo wasn’t with him, he probably would have given up a long time ago.

His adoptive dad was right.

He was useless.

After his breakdown, the sun had set, and he was finally able to get some sleep once the lively city died down, but not for long.

Heeseung woke up later that night from the feeling of something touching him and disturbing his sleep. "Mylo?" He said groggily, and his eyes couldn't even adjust before he felt a hard kick on his stomach, making him groan in pain. 

"Wakey wakey asshole," Heeseung popped up but was instantly thrown back down and kicked in the chest multiple times. He tried to lift his fist, but someone had him pinned down arm by arm, and he was absolutely defenseless.

The last thing he heard was Mylo's barking before he passed out from a brutal blow to the face.

He woke up at god knows what time to Mylo sitting on top of him and nuzzling his face into his neck. "Thank goodness you're okay." heeseung hugged Mylo tightly, breathing a sigh of relief, as Mylo whimpered at his owner's tattered face and poor condition. "Don't be sad. Daddy's fine. I can take a hit, you know that." 

Heeseung tried his best to stand up but he underestimated his injuries. "Ow! fuck!” he grimaced in pain as he fell back down, coughing uncontrollably from all the hits he took right in the center of his frail chest.

There was no way he could go back to sleep like this and possibly get into even more danger, and he couldn't waste a whole night without looking for any form of money, and Mylo's food was already running dangerously low.

He willed himself to stand up after a minute, and he untied Mylo, hobbling down the alleyway and getting ready to go on his nightly hunt for money.

Halfway down the street, he had to sit down and take a breather on one of the benches because the pain had started to really set in. "Daddy needs a minute." he tugged Mylo's collar, and he came back, sitting next to heeseung on the bench. "We're going to get lucky tonight, boy, I just know it." even though he knew his words held no real stock, he said them out loud to reassure and convince himself to believe those words were true just so he could keep going.

He heard the sound of footsteps growing nearer, and he quickly got off the bench just in case the stranger would start any conflict. He was in no shape, or form to defend himself or Mylo after getting beat up so badly.

"Hey," you said, causing him to stop in his tracks when he heard your familiar voice.

He turned around and saw you standing there with a hardened expression, a bag in your left hand, and a coffee cup in your other. "Y-yes?" He answered softly, almost like he was scared of being scolded by you and ashamed to face you after what he did today.

"Despite you being rude earlier, I still got this for you." You showed him the two items in your hand. It was the exact order that he had placed earlier in the afternoon. "I thought about not even getting it for you, honestly, but before I misjudged you, I thought maybe you were just having a bad day," you said kindly, even though you were still kinda angry with him. "So, in case you are having a bad day, I bought this for you, hoping it'd turn your bad day into a good one." 

He was hesitant about accepting help from you, but he decided to accept it this time since he rudely declined earlier.

He tried to grab the items from you, but he winced in pain. You frowned at the sight of clear discomfort on his face, and when he stepped a bit closer to you, the light from the street lamp hit his face just right. You could see bruises and cuts everywhere on his swollen face.

You gasped quietly as he took the items from your hands, and you didn't have time to react before he turned around and walked away. "Wait!" You stopped him and reached into your purse. "Here," you said, handing him a bag of dog treats you had bought earlier for the express purpose of giving them to Mylo.

"Thank you," he muttered. Mylo barked excitedly, knowing exactly what it was, and wagged his tail while sniffing the bag. "Let's go home, boy," he tugged on Mylo's leash, but he didn't budge. Heeseung looked behind his shoulder and saw Mylo rolling around at your feet, and you had ducked down to give him a belly rub. "Mylo!" Heeseung called to him sternly, and he retreated back to heeseung's side with a displeased yelp. "Let's go." with that, heeseung limped along the sidewalk, and you sighed sadly. He looked fine earlier, but now he looked bloody and bruised, and you didn't miss the bald patches on Mylo's back. You assumed someone had assaulted them, and your heart ached at the thought. You couldn't imagine how hard that must have been for them, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how scared they both were.

You knew he told you to mind your business, but how could you do it when he looked like he could barely even walk?

You sighed as you walked back home. You unlocked your door and were instantly greeted by Myla. "Hi, girly!" You said happily, and she nearly tackled you in excitement and started licking all over your face.

You smiled happily, but a few seconds later, it turned to a frown as you remembered poor little Mylo. He looked so excited to see new faces, and you couldn't help but think about how he and Myla would get along. They were both German shepherds and had the same playful personality, plus she would love the company.

Your thoughts wandered to what the homeless man's personality was. He seemed cold and harsh and mean, even a little scary, but with a sweetheart of a dog like that, you figured there had to be more layers to the mystery man.

Your thoughts went far beyond that, and you started thinking about if he was always homeless, what his story was, and how he got to be who he is today.

Strangely enough, your thoughts went to an even more personal place, and you found yourself thinking of how he looked when he entered the cafe. He was fairly tall. He had a slender build and quite a handsome face.

You shook your head, erasing that thought from your mind cause who the heck thinks like that about someone they don't even know? "Sleep, that's what I need, sleep." You slapped your cheeks lightly, convincing yourself that you were just tired, and that's why you were having such irrational thoughts so late at night.

But even as you laid your head on your pillow to go to sleep for the night, your mind was still stuck on the guy with the Shepard named Mylo.

☕.

Heeseung was more than floored when he ate the food you had bought for him. It was delicious, the best thing he's had in years. He doesn't know if it was cause you gave it to him or maybe it's just cause he was so hungry, who knows. "She's a nice girl, isn't she Mylo?" Heeseung said as he fed him the dog treats you had bought. "I can tell you like her." he chuckled and took a sip of the hot black coffee. "I like her too." Mylo tilted his head at the sudden change in heeseung's tone. It was a fond one, something neither of them was used to hearing. "What is it?" Mylo cut his eyes at heeseung and turned back to eating his treats. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's not like I like her like that or anything." heeseung put his hands up in defense as if Mylo actually understood what was being said. "What am I even saying?" he smiled, embarrassed as he caught himself thinking about you for no apparent reason. "She's just a nice girl," he convinces himself that that's all he thought of you.

Even if he did like you more than that, who is he kidding? He couldn't be a good boyfriend, let alone a man. He had no way to provide for you, no car, no job, no money, just his bummy self, and what girl would want someone useless like that?

He sighed at the thought as a feeling of loneliness crept up on him slowly but surely; nevertheless, he shook it off. He had Mylo, his best friend, and that was enough. Besides, he had enough things to worry about, and a relationship wasn't one. "No more treats, you're gonna get sick," he said as he took the bag of treats away from Mylo. He put them inside the brown bag you had given him earlier, and his eyes nearly bulged from his head when he saw a bunch of bills in the bottom of the bag that he somehow hadn't noticed until now, but he supposed he was so excited about eating that he barely even looked.

He excitedly dumped the cash on the ground and counted it as a hundred dollars in small bills. "We're rich, Mylo!" He jumped up from his sleeping bag, and Mylo, just as excited, stood up on his hind legs, putting his paws on his owner's shoulders. "We're rich, we're rich," he sang happily while dancing with Mylo. "We're rich, we're rich, we're rich." nothing but excited barks and laughter came from the alleyway as heeseung's and Mylo's night came to a very sweet end.

☕️.

For the next few weeks, you gave the homeless man and Mylo dinner. You got a free meal from the cafe every day, so it was nothing for you anyway. Plus, you were more than happy to do it for him even if you did have to pay for it. The genuine smile on his face was worth more than any dollar bill in the world. "Goodnight, Mylo," you said in the same baby voice that you used for Myla, and heeseung did his best to hold back a laugh, but nevertheless, he thought it was adorable.

"Say bye-bye, Mylo," heeseung said after a couple minutes of letting him play with you.

For the first time since you saw them, he actually seemed to be in a good mood, and it put you in a good mood, too. "Goodnight, mystery man," you said playfully.

He merely nodded and smiled before he walked back home.

☕️.

"He is kinda cute, and his smile is so sweet," you talked to yourself while you lay in bed after getting home later that night, still feeling giddy after the small yet sweet moment with the homeless man down the street.

Myla was sitting at the edge of the bed, just staring at you while you lay there with a smile on your face, reliving earlier events. "Hey, don't judge me," you pointed your finger in her face. "I'm sure you'd like Mylo too," you argued, and she still just stared at you. "Hey, I'm not the one sleeping on a jacket with his scent on it," you smiled proudly while Myla nuzzled her face into the jacket more. "You're so cute," you giggled and shut your lamp off, drifting to sleep, and it was no surprise who was on your mind before you closed your eyes.

☕️.

Heeseung's life at the moment is better than it has ever been, all thanks to you. He didn't have to be out late at night searching for money or food cause you had been providing him with it every day, and he was so thankful for that, more than words could even express, but the least he could do was go see you and apologize properly for the way he treated you in the beginning.

Finally, he could afford the basics that he needed. 

Recently, he bought a new outfit, a simple white shirt, blue jeans, and a toothbrush and toothpaste to brush his teeth.

A few days later, he went to a rest stop and took a shower after what felt like years. It was quite far from him, but it was definitely worth the bus ride. 

Once he was finished cleaning up, he couldn't help but smile at his appearance. When he saw his reflection in the mirror, he felt like a new man completely. He took the bus back home to get Mylo's approval first before going to the cafe to see you. "Okay, today is the day, Buddy. How do I look?" Heeseung asked Mylo as he did a little spin.

"Woof woof!" Mylo rubbed himself on heeseung's leg, giving what heeseung could only take as his approval.

"I'll be back soon, alright? You know the drill, okay? No noise." he rubbed Mylo's cheeks one last time before starting his journey to see you.

He decided to walk instead of wasting money on the bus because the walk was about ten minutes, give or take, and he was no stranger to walking.

The cafe bell rang, making you pop your head up, looking at the customer who entered, and you smiled in surprise when you saw handsome, or at least that's what you referred to him as in your head cause you still hadn't gotten his name yet. 

"I'll take it," Sunghoon immediately interjected when he recognized the same man who came in a few weeks ago and yelled at you.

"It's okay, hoon, I got it," you assured him.

"Sure?" He asked one more time.

"Positive, we worked it out," you whispered, and sunghoon gave Heeseung one last look before walking away. "Hello!" You greeted him happily.

"H-hi," heeseung scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. You didn't even notice his stutter cause you were too focused on taking in his beauty in the daylight. "I-I just came here to apologize for the other day and all the trouble I caused. I was having a terrible day, and everything just kinda came tumbling down on me at once, and I know that's not an excuse to act the way I did. That's not like me at all, but yeah, I'm really sorry," he said sincerely.

He couldn't help but blush when you smiled at him so brightly. "Apology accepted…?" You trailed off, not knowing what to address him by.

"Oh! Heeseung, I'm heeseung," he chuckled after his initial awkward pause.

"Nice to finally meet you, mystery man." he chuckled at the nickname you'd given him.

"You too.." he squinted his eyes at your name tag. "Y/n," he said softly. There was another awkward pause before he cleared his throat. "I uhh also wanted to thank you for all you've done, and I'm f-forever grateful, but you don't have to." 

"It's no problem," you told him truthfully, still admiring his looks. He looked so much healthier and happier than when you first met him, and that made you feel so warm inside, knowing you were assisting him in getting back on his feet.

"But-" he tried to protest, but you shut it down right away.

"Would you like to order anything" you cut him off before he could argue.

He dropped his shoulders in defeat. By now, he knew you wouldn't take no for an answer. "I guess I'll have a black coffee," his stomach grumbled on cue, letting you know he wanted more than just a coffee.

"Black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Anything else?"

"No, mam," he laughed and reached for the money in his back pocket, but you had already cashed him out and went behind the counter to prepare his order.

Heeseung sighed softly. He had a tough time accepting your generosity, but he couldn't lie. It was so much nicer to finally have someone to rely on instead of doing literally everything on his own. Because of you, he could get more sleep. His dog was well-fed, and so was he.

He supposed if he thought about it long enough, he had taken all the burden on himself to provide cause no one on the street would even give him a dime, and when that happened, he turned his back on people just like his parents turned their backs on him. He took on all one hundred percent of the responsibility and made a living for Mylo and himself.

So when you showed him sympathy or kindness, he didn't know how to react cause it was a foreign concept to him. He just got upset and thought you were feeling pity for him, which made him feel weak and incapable of doing it alone. But, after getting to know you for a while, he was able to open up to the idea of getting help cause, to him, it seemed like you genuinely wanted to lend him a helping hand, not just cause you felt sorry for him, but cause you actually cared and that's all he's ever wanted was to be seen, heard, and cared for, and well, here you are, doing all that for him and so much more.

You were smiling absentmindedly as you put a free pastry in his bag along with his sandwich. "You're in rare form today," Sunghoon chimed.

"Hmm," you hummed in agreement, neatly packing heeseung's food. 

"Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain handsome customer, would it?" He teased.

"Nope, nothing at all," you lied, and Sunghoon could see right through it.

"Sureeeeeee," you both came out from the back, and you slapped sunghoons shoulder playfully as he teased you.

"I don't blame you." he put his hands up In defense with a chuckle.

"What a lucky guy," heeseung muttered to himself, watching the interaction between you and your co-worker as he went to the register after you called his order number.

"Enjoy!" You smiled and handed him a smaller cup with whipped cream in it, and you wrote Mylo's name on the cup with little hearts surrounding it.

Heeseung smiled at the adorable treat you prepared for his furry friend. "Thank you," he said while chuckling. "You're definitely gonna be his new favorite after this." 

"With an owner like you, I'm sure that's impossible," you replied and only realized how flirty that sounded after it came out, but you didn't regret it when you saw him smile shyly.

"O-oh," he laughed awkwardly, and a blush crept up his neck. "T-thanks," he stutters.

"Of course! Have a good day, heeseung, and be safe, okay?" you smile.

"Yes, mam," he saluted and bid you goodbye. As soon as he got a block down the street, he had to lean against the wall and take a breather cause he was literally shaking with nerves. "Gosh, she's so beautiful," he breathed out with a hand resting on his racing heart.

"With an owner like you, I'm sure that's impossible." Sunghoon mimicked your tone after listening to your guy's whole conversation while he "cleaned" the tables.

"Shut it, hoon," you said, smiling uncontrollably.

"Yes, mam," he said while laughing and putting emphasis on mam. "Well, aren't you guys just so cute? "

"Stop it, or I'm leaving you here if you don't knock it off," you threatened playfully.

"You might as well. It's dead as hell, and we only have a few hours till closing," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" He nodded without a second thought. "I'll stay another hour and help you clean, and then I'll go deal?"

"Deal and oh, tell me all about this enemies-to-lovers trope. One day, you're fighting, and the next, you're flirting," he laughs.

"We're not flirting!" You buried your head in your hands, totally embarrassed, but you can't lie. You did want to talk about the little crush you had on heeseung.

☕️.

“Hey, buddy! Did you miss me?” Heeseung giggled, kneeling down and nearly getting pounced on as soon as he offered Mylo his treat. “Yeah, she’s definitely your favorite,” he says, plopping down on his sleeping bag and grabbing his own food from the brown paper bag. “Delicious as always,” he says after the first bite. “Mylo, I think your daddy’s in love,” he smiles to himself, feeling full cause of your kindness alone, and he would definitely cherish this peaceful moment for years to come.

Thanks to your amazing friend and co-worker, Sunghoon, you could go home early once again while he stayed behind and closed up for the night. One of these days, you were definitely gonna have to return the favor.

You took the bus home this time cause you were extra tired that evening. The sun had begun to set, and it was a bit chilly outside, so you were enjoying the warm ride home. You smiled as you passed the bench where you first met heeseung. 

You were lost in thought about your guy's first encounter until you saw something in the corner of your eye. You turned and looked down the alleyway where heeseung stayed. You may or may not have watched him occasionally just to ensure he got home safely.

You smiled and looked a little more closely, hoping to catch a peek at him even though you had already seen him today, but what you saw made your smile drop altogether, and your heart raced with nothing but fear. “Stop the bus!” You screamed to the driver and they immediately halted after hearing your panicked shrill.

You ran out of the bus and down the alleyway without thinking twice about the dangers you might face. “Hey!” You yelled on instinct, gaining the attention of the group of teenagers that you saw from the bus. A few of them stood up and started walking toward you while the others continued to beat heeseung and Mylo. With nothing but fear in your eyes. You quickly pulled out your phone and called the cops. As soon as they saw you with a phone in your hand, they all scattered away. Despite the fear running through your veins, you ran down the alley and saw exactly what you feared. “Are you okay?” You asked him softly and crouched to his level to inspect what they had done to him. Heeseung was balled up on the ground, hugging Mylo so he would take the brunt of the blows.

He flinched when he heard your soft voice, and he slowly peaked up at you, his body still shaking in fear, and his face was barely even recognizable. “I-I’m fine. What are you doing here? You could have gotten hurt,” he scolded you while checking Mylo for any chance of injury. Thankfully, he was able to shield him from most of the brutal assault.

Once he responded coherently to you, you were able to calm yourself, and your heart settled with relief. 

After your initial panic, you noticed you still had your phone in hand. You put the device to your ear and told the operator your exact location, letting them know that someone had been injured.

Heeseung quickly snatched the phone away from you, hanging up immediately. “Are you crazy! Why would you call the police?!”

Your brows raise in shock from the sudden shift of tone in his voice. “I- I thought-“

“Obviously, you didn’t fucking think 'cause now I have to find somewhere else to stay,” he said frantically while trying to pack up his belongings so he could leave before the police came, but he heard all the sirens in the distance, and it was already too late. “I’m fucked” he said weakly and fell down to his knees.

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help,” you said, and you were confused, not knowing what the harm was with calling the police. You couldn’t let those group of assholes off the hook after what they did to him and Mylo.

“You can help by getting the fuck away from me!” He yelled. Not only was he embarrassed you saw him like this, but he was also injured, sad, and scared for his life.

You were left speechless from his sudden outburst. You didn’t know what you did wrong and you didn’t know what to do, so you slowly got up and walked out of the alleyway, leaving him alone to hopefully cool off and explain what was happening.

The cops surrounded the area, blue and red lights flashed everywhere as you talked to the officers about what happened. Now you know why heeseung mentioned he had to find another place to stay cause once the police found out he was homeless, they practically turned a blind eye to the whole situation and denied your request when you asked them not to give him a fine and not only that, they didn’t even want to treat his wounds which was totally unfair. He was homeless, but he was still a human, and they were treating him like less than.

Unbelievable, you thought. You knew the world was cruel. Sometimes, but this was just too much.

Heeseung held his head low the entire time, and it took every last ounce of strength for him to hold it together when they fined him a hundred dollars for sleeping on owned property, his world felt like it was falling down around him, and everything in the background sounded like high pitched noise as the cops drove away from the scene.

Twenty minutes ago, he was the happiest he’d been in years, and just within a blink of an eye, all that was taken from him.

You went back to heeseung after everything had been concluded, hoping he had calmed down a bit after the incident. “I can pay the fine, heeseung. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault,” you say dejectedly. “I should have minded my own business. I just wanted to help you.”

He didn’t say a single word to you while packing his bags, even though the sad tone of your voice made his heart ache. It wasn’t your fault he was a homeless loser. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him, and right now, he’s just upset with himself. He knows he should have never gotten anyone else involved in the shit show he called his life.

Once everything was gathered and stored in his backpack, he stood up, getting ready to make his leave.

Except Mylo had other plans and stayed planted to the pavement. “Mylo, it’s time to go.” heeseung tugged him along like usual, but Mylo resisted.

“Heeseung, I’m sorry,” you apologized again, and you were nearly on the verge of tears cause everything that happened was all your fault. You just wanted to help him, that’s all.

“Mylo!” Heeseung shouted.

“Heeseung, please,” you said softly, hoping he’d at least accept the apology before he left and you never saw him again.

“Just leave me alon- ow fuck!” He whimpered, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Before he could catch his balance, he lost his footing, nearly falling over if it wasn’t for you immediately rushing to his aid and balancing him. He practically collapsed in your arms, and you held him upright, using the brick building next to you for leverage to help him stand. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help,” he cried softly, still trying to walk under his own power, but he stumbled, and once again, your hands were there to catch him, saving him from the fall. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice giving out finally as his entire body succumbed to the pain.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you reassured him and hugged him close to your body. A second didn’t even pass before he had you wrapped tightly in his arms.

“I’m scared,” he cries softly, holding on to you like his life depended on it, and mylo finally sat up, sitting down next you with heeseung as he nudged him gently with his muzzle, sensing his owner’s sadness. “I’m so scared, y/n,” he whispered, leaning into your touch.

A few of your own tears had fallen down your cheek, and you could hear the pain and sorrow in his voice, and it broke your heart to bits to see him like this. “Don’t be. You can stay with me until you find a new place. I don’t mind.” You stroked his hair softly.

“No, no, no, I couldn’t ask that of you.” he shook his head, clutching tighter onto your shirt, terrified to let you go. You holding on to him was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

If he was being this open and vulnerable with you, practically a stranger, then you knew he really must be feeling at his lowest right now, and that’s the last thing you wanted for him cause deep down, you knew there was so much more to him than just a homeless guy that has a hard time accepting kindness.

“You’re not asking; I’m telling.” You dismissed him right away. There was no way you’d let him stay out here another night cause what happened tonight was bad enough, and you weren’t willing to take any chances either cause if something worse happened to him, you don’t know how’d you be able to handle that just the thought made you feel sick. “Are you okay to stand?” You ask him gently once his tears have subsided.

“I think so,” he sniffles while you help him up. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes.

“Don’t apologize, heeseung. You’ve done nothing wrong. Are you okay to keep going?” You adjusted a little, carrying most of his weight on your shoulder. He nodded weakly, trying his best to assist you despite his bruised ribs and busted face. “My apartment is only a few minutes away. Will you be okay til then? We can take breaks if you need to.”

“I’m okay. I think I can make it,” he surrendered to your offer, too worn down and tired to say no to you. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder, walking him and Mylo to their new home.

You stopped at the door once you arrived. “Don’t be scared, but I have a dog as well, and she can get very excited when she meets new people,” you warn him before entering.

Heeseung smiled a tad bit, wincing when the cut on his lip stretched. “Mylo’s good with the company,” he responds, his voice low and horse, a big contrast to how he sounded earlier in the evening.

“Okay, great!” You welcomed them inside. “Myla, we have visitors!” You cheered, and she was already waiting at the door for you.

“Woah!” She jumped on heeseung immediately. “Ow ow ow,”  he grimaced when she nudged his face. He had no idea when you said you had a dog that you meant a full-grown shepherd almost identical to his own. 

“Myla, sit,” you scolded her, and she sat down on the carpet, showing you the whites of her eyes. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine; she’s just like huge,” he chuckled and coughed immediately after due to the pain in his chest. 

“Take a seat on the couch,” you quickly Instructed. 

“But I’m all bloody and dirty,” he reasoned, unintentionally looking at you with puppy eyes. You just grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

Meanwhile, Mylo was still frozen by the door. As soon as he saw Myla, he stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to the side, looking confused.

“Go say hi,” you gestured to Myla, and she walked over to Mylo, sniffing him. She recognized his scent immediately and started licking his head, but he just backed away further into the corner, hiding himself.

Heeseung watched Mylo’s odd behavior. He was always great with new dogs, but all of a sudden, he was being standoff-ish. “Mylo,” heeseung said in a stern tone, and Mylo quickly ran over to the couch, hiding behind heeseung. “What has gotten into you, hmm?” Heeseung chuckled, and Mylo peaked around his back to stare at Myla.

You and heeseung both just giggled at his cuteness. “Wait here. I’ll just go and get you some medicine and bandages for your wounds.”

“Thank you.” After a moment, you had gathered everything, and heeseung half smiled once you came back to the living room with all the supplies in hand.

“Come on, boy, you have to sit down so I can heal your daddy’s wounds,” you said sweetly. Mylo obediently laid down on the floor and curled up around your guy's feet. “Gosh,” you said once you turned on the tableside lamp and saw just how badly he was injured.

“That bad, huh?” He laughed dryly. “Imagine I let a bunch of teenagers beat me up,” he said pitifully.

“I don’t know any one man that can fight off four people,” you said, trying to lift his spirits, and it must have worked cause he smiled softly, feeling appreciative of your comforting words as he laid back on the couch so you could do your work. “This is gonna sting, but only for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, already anticipating the sting, and it made him nervous for the pain that was inevitably about to come.

You poured the peroxide on a cotton ball and dabbed at the blood that had started to harden on his cheek and lip.

“Hmm.” He clenched his jaw from the sting, and you noticed his discomfort right away. “Sorry,” you whispered while applying some ointment to his face, hoping it would help take away the sting as you placed a single bandage on the wound. “Does it hurt anywhere else?” You ask once you finished nearly his entire face.

“N-no, I’m fine, thanks,” he lied. It hurt just about everywhere, but he didn’t want to burden you, and he was sure it’d heal on its own anyway, as it always does. He’s taken enough beatings to know.

“Okay, are you hungry or?” He declined once more with a tiny shake of his head. “Well, are you sleepy?” You asked, and he nodded his head. You’re not sure if he was aware of this, but he was pouting, and he looked so cute, just like a little baby. “Wait here.” You patted his knee and got the spare room ready for him.

Heeseung laughed as he watched Mylo digging his nails into the carpet and dragging himself towards Myla.

By the time you came back from blowing up the air mattress and getting a few things set up for heeseung, you came back and saw Myla and Mylo coupled together on the carpet, and it was too freaking adorable how they were already getting along. “I think that’s a good sign” you grinned at the sight.

“I think so, too,” heeseung agreed. It was nice to see Mylo interacting with more of his kind, even if he was behaving a bit strangely. “Myla and Mylo,” heeseung let out an airy laugh as he watched them snuggling up to one another like they’ve known each other for years.

You smiled warmly at him. “So it’s not much, but there’s a bed, and I also have some spare toiletries in the bathroom. Sorry in advance if they all smell like flowers.”

“I like flowers,” he gave you a genuine smile.

“Oh well, good then, I guess that’s it. If you need anything, my room is across from yours. Don’t hesitate at all. Just call me even if I’m asleep, alright?” 

“Okay,” he said quietly and got up from the couch. “Mylo,” he whistled. “Bedtime.” Mylo jumped up and scampered over to Heeseung, following him down the hallway. “Goodnight, y/n. Thanks for all of this. I really mean it.” he wanted to say more, so much more, but the last thing he wanted to do was get emotional again. The first time he cried in front of you was embarrassing enough.

“Of course, goodnight, heeseung.” he gave you a small smile before going into his new room. “This is home, Buddy.” Heeseung kicked off his pants and laid down on the mattress to sleep. “Wow,” he sighed in relief from the feeling of the soft air mattress hitting his back. “I told you we were going to get lucky, boy,” heeseung whispers while hugging Mylo and getting ready to sleep.

You smiled when your face hit your pillow, and you couldn’t have been happier knowing that heeseung and Mylo were together, safe and off the streets, and they could finally rest peacefully.

☕️.

Heeseung had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of scratching noises. He quickly shot up, alert from the sudden disturbance. He took in his surroundings, breathing a deep sigh of relief once he realized he was safe at your apartment and didn’t have to worry about being assaulted again.

He heard the scratching noise again and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Mylo was digging on the door and probably scraping the paint with his claws. “Cut that out!” Heeseung whispered shouted and got out of bed, putting his pants on and quietly opening his door, assuming Mylo needed a bathroom break. “Come on, it’s this way,” Heeseung tiredly mutters while Mylo is busy sniffing the bottom of your bedroom door.

You stirred from your sleep when you felt Myla jumping off the bed. She looked back at you, wagging her tail and waiting at the door for you. “Gotta go potty?” You grabbed your robe and tossed it on, yawning before opening the door. “Woah,” You jumped slightly when you saw heeseung and Mylo standing right outside your door.

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispered.

“Hey, it's not your fault Myla has to use the bathroom,” you assured him.

“Same with him,” heeseung chuckled, pointing at Mylo.

You both shut your bedroom doors and walked to the front door, but neither of the two moved from their spot.

You and heeseung made eye contact, a knowing look taking over both your features. “Sorry,” heeseung mumbled, feeling like it was his fault for the disturbance.

“Stop apologizing,” you chuckled. “It’s alright.”

“Sorry- I- okay.” he dropped his shoulders and sighed.

“So I guess we can both agree that we’ve lost our sleeping partners.” You say, watching the two of them nuzzling each other.

“Guess so,” Heeseung laughs softly. Mylo and Myla lay next to each other on the ground, and clearly, they weren’t going to leave each other's side tonight. “Goodnight, y/n,” heeseung mutters as he goes back to his room.

“Night, heeseung,” you smiled and shut your door behind you, hoping to get a good night's rest after everything that happened today.

☕️.

Finally, you were both able to rest through the night after the disturbance. You had a day off today, which was perfect cause heeseung wouldn’t be alone on his first day with you. You didn’t have much on your to-do list, so maybe you could do something later, like shopping or getting some food for dinner with him if he was feeling up to it.

You did your usual routine, fed both the dogs, and then made a small breakfast for yourself. You didn’t want to cook anything for heeseung cause you were not sure what time he would wake up, and you didn’t want it to be cold, so you waited til later for him.

Except later came, and it was about four in the afternoon, and still, no sign of heeseung. You assumed he was just really worn out, so you took the dogs for a walk, but not before leaving a note in case heeseung woke up before you got back. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about Mylo's whereabouts.

After half an hour, you came back from the dog park, and heeseung was still nowhere in sight. You spent the rest of the day playing with the dogs and watching TV. Before you knew it, the day was already over. It was midnight, and heeseung never showed. You cracked the door and checked on him before you went to sleep just to make sure he was okay, and you smiled to yourself. He was more than okay; he was still sleeping very very soundly.

You pouted slightly cause you were excited to see him today, but if he was that tired, you wanted to give him time to rest. After all, he needed it. You just hoped his bandages would hold until the next morning.

☕️.

The next week went by like this, except you knew that he came out of his room when you saw your strawberry shampoo spilled on the tub floor and his old clothes folded neatly near the laundry basket, not to mention the missing ramen in your cupboard.

Heeseung was horrified to step out of his room and face you. The first night was okay, but after things settled in, he couldn’t help but be embarrassed by how he treated you when you tried to help him and how he broke down like a newborn baby crying in your arms. “What the hell were you thinking?” He said to himself out loud in his room. “Ow,” he whimpered in pain when he turned on his side in bed; he lifted up his shirt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, his wounds had gotten infected badly. There was pus oozing from them, and they felt worse than the day he got them. He was applying the ointment you gave him every day, but it wasn’t working. Little did he know he needed a lot more than ointment for his level of injuries.

He got up out of bed and hobbled onto the bathroom to get more ointment. To his luck, or maybe not to his luck, you had just gotten home from work and caught him in the doorway. He thought about scattering on back to his room, but it’d look very obvious that he was trying to avoid you if he did that, so he just greeted you politely before going into the washroom. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey!” You said happily cause he was finally up and awake. “Feeling any better?” You asked, hoping to hear a positive response to your question.

“Umm… yeah,” he said, a bit unsure, and he was unaware that he was holding his side, a clear sign to you that he was still in pain.

“Does it still hurt there?” You looked down to where he was holding, a small pout making its way to your lips.

“Yeah, but I think it’s getting better.” Once again, he lied so you wouldn’t be caused any inconvenience because of him.

“Here, let me take a look. Umm, do you mind if I just lift this up a bit?” He shook his head as a no, you proceeded to peel back the shirt, and he bit his lip to conceal the pained sound that was dying to escape when the material of his shirt brushed against his wound.

“Am I all good?” He asked once he saw you blankly staring at the area where he was still badly hurt.

“Go wait in your room for me, okay?” You couldn’t help the sound of disappointment in your voice. Your tone let him know the seriousness of the situation, and he nodded his head, doing as he was told like a little kid being scolded.

You came in a few minutes later with your hands full of all types of first aid supplies. You sat down next to him, breaking the silence as you shyly instructed him to lift up his shirt.

He nodded again and lifted up his shirt, revealing the angry, infected welts on his skin. There was more than you had originally seen, even more on his lower abdomen and upper back. “Umm, I can’t really, you know, reach all the spots if you don’t..” your words faded out towards the end in hopes he would understand what you meant and not make the situation awkward, but he just stared at you blankly, obviously not understanding what you meant. “The shirt you need to uhh,” you motioned for him to take his shirt off, and his eyes automatically went wide; nevertheless, he complied and took off the article of clothing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You asked with a sigh, looking at all the swollen cuts on his body.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my problems,” he mumbled.

“Well, for as long as you stay with me, your problems are my problems.” The room fell silent once again. What else could he say to that? He sat still while you cleaned his wounds. Luckily for him, it wasn’t bad enough to go to the emergency room, but if he waited a few days longer, you don’t know what would have happened.

He hissed in pain when the peroxide bubbled around one of the many wounds covering his frail body. “Sorry,” you blew on the area to make it feel better. “You’re doing so good,” you told him when it got to some of the really bad areas. “Just a little more,” you whisper while cleaning up the rest of the cuts. “Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?” You look at him with a skeptical raise of your brow.

He gulped and turned to look at you. “N-no,” he stuttered just like last time, which was a good indicator that he was not telling you the truth this time either.

“Heeseung,” you said his name in a warning tone. “If you’re hurt somewhere else and it goes untreated, it could get very bad, and you’re not a burden to me at all, okay? I offered, so let me take care of you, yeah?” 

☕️.

This was probably the most unintentionally awkward thing you have ever done, and despite focusing on the task at hand, it was hard to focus when he was in nothing but his underwear while you treated the wounds on his thighs. “Ow,” he flinched from the burning sensation of the disinfectant, and you rubbed his thigh softly, trying to distract him from the pain; he tensed up at the contact but quickly relaxed under your careful touch. 

“Sorry, I’m almost done.” He leaned back on his palms, head tilting back while he grimaced in pain.

“A-ah, o-okay,” his breath shudders the moment you apply more ointment to his thigh.

“There, all done,” you finally finished and wrapped his legs up successfully, as well as his upper body.

“Thank you so much.” he threw his head back, exhaling deeply. That was probably the hardest thing he’d done in a while. The pain he felt was literally excruciating.

He reached for his shirt, unknowingly leaning into you a bit. Your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity, and now you were only a mere few inches away from each other.

He held his breath while staring at you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips before he caught himself and looked away, clearing his throat softly. “Uhm” 

The air was already awkward, but now there was a certain tension circulating. It felt stuffy, and you could barely even breathe it in. “I-I’ll let you get dressed.” You turned away from him, too flustered to look at him any longer.

You’re shocked you even had the composure for those words to come out coherently.

You felt bad for even thinking like this while he was injured, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was even more handsome up close.

“Yeah,” he breathed out as you walked to the door, fumbling with all the supplies you had in hand. 

“Just come down for breakfast soon, okay?” you say while grabbing the door knob and excusing yourself.

“I will,” his voice comes out soft as you shut the door, leaning against it and clutching your beating heart.

You felt like squealing. How were you going to be able to handle living with him?

☕️.

“Breakfast,” heeseung said as he paced back and forth. “Breakfast?” The last time he had breakfast was heck if he knew. He hadn’t even sat at a dining table since he was a young teenager. “Breakfast.” While he was pacing, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, and his face was scruffy. “Eww,” he mumbled while running his fingers through the strands of his hair, looking back at his disgusting appearance.

At some point, he was able to gather the courage to leave his room or technically your room and go to the kitchen, where he could smell the bacon you were cooking. 

Your back was turned to him, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it before anything could come out. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments and shoved his hands inside his pockets. “H-hi,” he greeted and teetered himself back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, hi!” You whipped your head around at the sound of his voice and smiled at him. “You’re just in time. Have a seat.”

He took out a chair and sat down while you finished making him the tasteless black coffee that he always seemed to enjoy, or maybe it was just cause it was the cheapest thing on the menu.

“Here you are,” you said softly as you served him his food. 

“Last time I’ve had this much food was more than eight years ago,” he said while looking at the piled-up plate before him. 

You frowned upon hearing that cause that probably meant he had been homeless or at least struggling for a good amount of years, and knowing that made you sad.

He took note of your sad expression and quickly changed the topic so he wouldn’t sour the mood any more than he already had. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Thank you” 

“It’s okay, and you’re welcome,” you smiled. “Mylo’s just out in the front playing with Myla,” you told him as you took a seat at the table with him.

“You’re not eating?” He asked as he took a bite of bacon, a satisfied hum coming from the taste. Home-cooked breakfast has always been his favorite.

“No, it’s like 7:00pm,” you said while giggling.

He lowered his head in pure embarrassment, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Right,” he chuckled, only now realizing just how late he had slept in.

You watched him eat in silence with a smile, and it warmed your heart to see him eating and enjoying the food you made just for him.

He took a break from eating before speaking again. “After my infection goes down, I’ll find a new place to stay and get Mylo and me out of your hair. He’s a pain in the butt, and I’m not much better off,” he informs and takes a sip of coffee.

“Would you like some cream for your coffee?” You ignored his comment entirely cause you weren’t letting him go back out on the street, and that was final.

“Y/n-“

“Yes? Okay then,” You smiled and got up from the table, grabbing some coffee creamer.

He sighed softly while you added some personality to his hot beverage. “Thanks, but I really don’t need all this. I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t want to bother you.”

“Do I look bothered? I’ve cleaned your wounds without complaint. It’s my pleasure to cook for you. Myla loves the extra company, and so do I, so what seems to be the issue with you staying here” You fold your arms on the table and wait for a response. You weren’t trying to sound so rude, but you were adamant about him staying because it wasn’t safe for him out there, and anytime the thought of him leaving crept up in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel agitated.

When you put it like that, it didn’t sound bad at all, but he just felt like a burden. Maybe it was because of his terrible upbringing, where he was told that everything was his fault and the world would be a better place without him in it. He doesn’t know, but still, he just didn’t feel right accepting your hospitality. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he politely refused.

You sighed. You didn’t want to be rude, so you excused yourself. “I’ll go check on the dogs,” you said quietly and left the table.

Heeseung lowered his head and sighed deeply. He didn’t want you to be upset with him or displeased or whatever you were, but he wasn’t your problem to solve. He needed to do better by himself for himself, not freeload off your kindness.

☕️.

Heeseung has been staying with you for a few weeks now. His wounds almost cleared up completely after he let you treat them daily. Although it was like pulling teeth, you managed to get it done, and by some type of magic, you were able to convince him to let you take him shopping. “So what all do you need?” You asked once you pulled out a shopping cart.

“Umm, toiletries?” He scratched his nape, staying close to your side like a child would his mother.

You smiled and nodded, leading him to the health and beauty section.

You stopped at the end of the aisle, and he stood next to you, not moving a single inch. Even though you were waiting for him to lead the way, you cut your eyes at him, and he was still frozen there, just like a statue, so you cleared your throat. “Umm, you can get anything you need.”

“Oh!” He made a face of realization as he went to pick out items before you could notice the embarrassed blush on his face.

You stayed at the end of the aisle, and he came back like two seconds later with a trial-size toothbrush and toothpaste that cost $1,09

“Really? That’s all you need.” You look at the single item in his hand, trying your best not to judge his choice in necessities, but you can’t help it.

“Yup,” he replied, dropping his item in the cart.

You sighed. This was going to be a long day.

You went down the aisle with him this time, helping him pick out some things he needed that weren’t travel-size. “Let’s see…” you hummed. “You need this, this, and this.” You grabbed a full-sized tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a bottle of mouthwash. “And these also,” you say, adding some toothflossers. “What next?”

“Some body wash, maybe I don’t know,” he mumbles out, playing with his fingers out of uneasiness when he sees the prices of everything you had just dropped in the cart.

“Okay, let’s go” Once you get down the body wash aisle, you nearly groan in annoyance when he bought a three-in-one after smelling more than ten different body washes.

You knew he liked the $10,00 dollar bottle cause the way his eyes lit up when he smelled it, but of course, he chose the two-dollar bottle cause it was cheap. Not to say there was a problem with being frugal. It’s just he didn’t need to be on a budget when he was with you.

You took the three in one out of the cart and put it back on the shelf, grabbing the one he really wanted. “I-“

“Heeseung,” you stood in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders as you gave him a serious talk. “Money isn’t an issue. Just pick whatever you want without a thought.” he nodded at you, eyes blinking rapidly as he hung on to every single last word that you had said to him. “So from now on,��just get anything you want, okay?” You didn’t want to force anything upon him cause you knew spending this type of money wasn’t an everyday occurrence for him, but you hoped he’d get used to the idea of it because he deserved to shop like everyone else even if it was new to him.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Finally, you thought to yourself now that he had taken the initiative to lead you around the store to do some shopping of his own, and it was refreshing to see him adding all different types of stuff to the cart without checking the price tag. “I could also use a razor,” he said while rubbing the little scruff on his chin.

“Razors are this way.” You chuckled lightly and guided him to the shaving section. He followed you and picked out a razor and shave cream. “Does this one smell okay?” He showed you the aftershave he was thinking about getting.

“Hmm,” you hummed in agreement. “It suits you. You’re going to get all the ladies,” you joked, and he chuckled.

“All the homeless ladies on the block.” Your mood instantly shifted the moment he mentioned that. You didn’t want to think about him leaving in a week. You didn’t want to think about him being homeless again. He had only been staying with you for a few weeks, and now he was already leaving soon.

You were definitely going to miss him.

Living alone wasn’t easy for you. That’s why you had gotten Myla in the first place, and as much as she cheered you up, there was nothing like having the company of another human. You’d invite Sunghoon occasionally, but he was always too busy with school, plus his relationship, so it had just been you and Myla for years.

But now that heeseung was staying with you, that loneliness was gone, unfortunately for you, though it would only be temporary.

“Anything else?” You muttered sadly, which went completely unnoticed by him.

“Some new clothes would be nice,” he says enthusiastically.

“Okay,” You took him to the men’s section for clothing, your feet suddenly feeling heavier as a feeling of dread set in your stomach.

You unintentionally spaced out while he was shopping for his clothes. The thought of him not being around anymore was really getting to you, and you didn’t even know why it was bothering you this much.

“Y/n?” He called you, but you didn’t answer. “Y/n?” He repeated, this time turning around to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You snap back to reality, noticing a questioning look on his face.

“Are you feeling sleepy?” He inquired with a hint of concern. “If you are, we can go.”

“No, I was just thinking about something,” you told him truthfully. You did have a day off today, so you felt good. You weren’t feeling sleepy at all. You assumed he took your saddened state for you being tired, but you were feeling okay.

“Okay,” he smiled, but you could tell that he was trying to hurry by the way he was sifting through the clothes rack. After a few moments, he had finished getting everything, which consisted of a few shirts and a couple pairs of joggers. “Okay, I’m done. That’s everything.” he clasps his hands together.

“Are you sure?” you reply, just to be completely sure he doesn’t need anything else.

“Oh, umm,” he was more than a little embarrassed about saying it to you, but it just dawned on him that he needed some new underwear. “I uhh need. I mean, never mind,” he concluded, not being able to bring himself to say it in front of you. For some reason, he just felt extremely shy suddenly, which was weird because you had seen him in his underwear already, but this felt different.

“Come on, what is it?” you urged him to tell you you’re sure he was just worried about the bill, but it was okay.

“It’s really nothing,” he gulped and avoided eye contact with you, hoping you wouldn’t ask again.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I have it, alright?” You patted his shoulder, assuring him it was okay to add more to the cart.

“It’s fine, let’s go.” he started walking away from the men’s clothing and heading to the checkout.

“Heeseung, come back and just tell me what it is,” you insisted.

“The dogs are probably getting hot in the car. We should probably leave.” he gave a reason as to why you guys should leave.

“Well, you should probably tell me otherwise they’ll be in the car all day.” You knew that was a threat, but you didn’t care. If he needed something else, he was going to get it.

He walked back over to you, finally giving in to your hardheadedness. “Ineedsomenewunderwear,” he quickly rushed out, blush already creeping up his neck.

“What?” You asked, your brows creasing in confusion. You couldn’t make out a single word he had just said to you.

He cupped his hand around his mouth, leaning in your ear and whispering it to you like it was top secret. “I said I need some new underwear.” he leaned back, a wide-eyed expression on his face as you realized what he said loud and clear word for word.

“Oh….ohhhhhhhh,” you laughed awkwardly. “I’ll just be over here,” you said and gave him some space to search for some underwear. “Sorry”

“Thank you,” he mutters shyly.

“Gosh,” you dropped your head in embarrassment once you got far enough away from him. You didn’t mean to pressure him into telling you like that. You weren’t trying to make him uncomfortable; you just wanted to make sure he got everything he needed.

Around five minutes later, Heeseung finished, and you went to the checkout area with him trailing behind you like you were his protector or something, but you thought it was cute.

Once again, you caught him looking at something, and you followed his line of sight. He was looking at the candy on the check lanes, which you thought was adorable, but that’s all he did. He just looked and looked away. 

It’s been ages since he had any candy, but it wasn’t a necessity, so he didn’t buy it. That’s what his stepmom always told him: if he didn’t need it, he shouldn’t buy it.

Well, little did he know you didn’t think like his stepmom, and if he wanted candy, then he was going to get it. “Pick all you want.” 

He now knew better than to fight with you, so he just put what he wanted into the cart, and you smiled that he was finally understanding that it was okay to buy things for himself.

After checking out, you two got back into the car, making a split decision to stop at the pet shop since you had a second mouth to feed. Mylo had already eaten nearly all of Myla's food.

As soon as you and heeseung entered the store, you were getting multiple compliments on how adorable the dogs were, and other people were politely smiling at the two of you while you roamed the shelves.

You bought a lot of stuff, probably too much stuff, but if Myla liked one thing, it was toys, and she just had a habit of destroying one after the other, so you’d be down to a few toys in no time.

Heeseung picked out some of Mylo’s favorites and let him pick out a few new toys as well. more like him picking them up and slobbering all over them, leaving heeseung no choice but to pick those. It’s been years since Mylo had a real toy. Heeseung had made him a makeshift toy out of a sock and shoestring, but that was nowhere near as fancy as the ones that the store had, especially the ones that squeaked. After shopping, you both continued to the register, where the cashier gave you two endless compliments. “Since you’re such a sweet couple, I tossed in a few dog bones as well,” the worker winked playfully as you and heeseung thanked her shyly, neither of you bothering to correct her before leaving the store after spending a couple hundred dollars, nearly making heeseung’s eyes pop out of their sockets.

Heeseung literally blushed the whole car ride home after that compliment the cashier gave you two, and thankfully, you didn’t notice his fidgeting in the passenger seat. It’s just that he’s never had a girlfriend or a girl that was even interested in him, so when he heard what the cashier said, he couldn’t help but entertain the thought of being your boyfriend a little.

 Or maybe a lot.

You weren’t much better off. You didn’t notice him fidgeting cause you were fidgeting for the same exact reason. You even went as far as to make up scenarios of you and him together in your head until you pulled into your driveway.

You hoped that wasn’t weird.

You, heeseung, and the dogs arrived home safely, and you entered the apartment together, hands full of groceries. Heeseung speaks up after sitting down the grocery bags that he insisted on carrying most of despite being a bit sore still. “I’m gonna wash up before dinner,” he said to you while you put some of the food items in the fridge.

You hummed in acknowledgment, leaving out the items you were going to make dinner with.

While heeseung was in the shower, he shaved off all of his facial hair. It’s been ages since his face had felt so smooth; the warm water cascading down his back felt like heaven on earth, and he didn’t take one bit of this for granted. He relished every last second using everything you bought him to freshen up with. When his shower came to an end, he stepped out, and he could have cried at the appearance that stared back at him in the mirror. Now, that’s a face that looked recognizable. He definitely grew up, but behind it all, he was still just that little boy who ran away from home all those years ago. He smiled at his reflection, but there was just one little thing that was missing.

As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he spotted a pair of scissors on your bathroom counter, and without a second thought, he trimmed his hair way down.

He definitely wasn’t the best at it, but he was good enough to make himself look presentable. Being homeless forces you to learn a lot of things most people take for granted, and haircuts just happened to be one of the many things he learned while being out on the road for so long.

He combed his fingers through his hair, completely satisfied with his new look. He felt lighter and overall better than he had in years. He changed into the new joggers he/you had bought and a plain black shirt before coming back out to the living room.

“Are you always this on tim-“ your words got stuck in your throat when you turned around and saw him looking like a completely new man. You knew he was handsome under the scruff and overgrown hair, but you didn’t realize that he was that handsome, and to be honest, you had lost your train of thought entirely.

He noticed your stare, but he was far too self-conscious about his appearance to understand that you were actually checking him out and not judging him. “I-I think I got a size too big,” he laughs nervously. He was never that beefy of a guy, but there was a point where he was way more nourished than he is now.

His voice brought you back to reality. “No, no, it’s good. It fits just fine,” you assured him and turned your back to the stove so he wouldn’t see your flustered face.

Your answer makes him smile, and he went from feeling self-conscious to confident just like that.

Dinner was a lot less awkward than your first breakfast together, and you could slowly see yourself getting used to something like this. Of course not with heeseung cause he was leaving, but maybe someday soon you’d find a boyfriend, and he’d eventually move in with you, or you'd move in with him, but that was all just wishful thinking you hadn’t had a man ask you out or for your number since high school, and unfortunately you had to reject it cause you were just too busy with studies at that time.

Little did you know while you were lost in thought, Heeseung had been full-on shamelessly checking you out every chance he got, but he didn’t think much of it. He assumed it was because he hadn’t had any interaction with a women in so long, but even when he was around girls at school, he’s never paid attention to them the way he did you, but you were a different story. You were literally an angel from the first time he met you till now, and how could he not be attracted to such a sweet girl who was beautiful not just on the outside but on the inside as well. A huge plus was you having a shepherd, too. He thought that it was so adorable.

Perfect for him.

He’d, of course, never act on it, though, cause as he saw it, he just stumbled across an angel to help him get through a hard time for now, and then he’d be back on his way to fending for himself and living the only life that he knew how.

After dinner, you both said shy goodnights to each other before you headed to bed. Mylo and Myla had snuggled up to each other about an hour ago. From the looks of it, they wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, and since you and heeseung were two bleeding hearts, neither of you could separate them, so they peacefully slept in the living room together all night.

☕️.

The last week of his stay flew by. You and heeseung hung out a bunch after he had gotten more comfortable around you, so comfortable that when you came home from work, you saw him spread out all over the couch with Mylo on his chest and the TV on.

He must have been sleepy, you thought, but you didn’t mind him sleeping on your couch cause he needed the rest. You put a blanket on him and muttered a small goodnight before leaving the two alone for the first time since they got here. You finally got to sleep with Myla again. She had grown quite fond of Mylo, and now they were nearly inseparable, which warmed your heart, but it just hurt knowing that this would all come to an end so soon.

☕️.

And end it did.

Heeseung was leaving today, and despite spending the whole day with him, going out for ice cream playing at the dog park, and even having dinner together, you were still gonna miss him and Mylo with your whole heart.

“So I guess that’s everything,” heeseung said once he finished packing his new backpack courtesy of you.

“I guess so,” you fake smiled at him as he walked over to your door, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders. 

“Umm, c-can I ask you for one last huge favor?” He questioned once he and Mylo stopped at your front door.

“Yeah,” you breathe out while fighting back your tears. 

“Can I please have a hug?” He asked with a forced smile of his own. It hurt him like crazy to leave, but he didn’t want to ride on your coattail any longer than he had to. He was all healed up and had more than enough supplies to go it alone, plus you had even given him a hundred dollars even though he refused it five times before finally giving in.

“Of course.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave one last time.

“Thank you for everything, y/n. You’re really a great person, and I’m so glad I met you. These past few weeks were so much fun.” his voice nearly cracked, but he fought it off along with the tears that threatened to spill out as he tightened his grip on you before letting go. He released one last breath as his hands rested on your shoulders before dropping down to his sides.

“My pleasure!” You replied with only a few words cause if you didn’t, you knew you would start balling your eyes out like a newborn baby.

“Come on, Mylo, say bye-bye,” heeseung tugged on his leash like he always did, and Mylo rubbed himself against your leg. “Bye, y/n,” heeseung said before turning to the door so you wouldn’t see his tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“Bye, heeseung,” you said in the softest tone. He could tell you were getting emotional, too, and he had to get out at that exact moment cause if he didn’t, he was sure he’d never gain the strength to leave.

He left despite Mylo resisting when he was being separated from his new best friend. Heeseung shut the door without looking back and walked down the steps while Mylo kept trying to fight his way back inside your apartment, clawing at the door until he was panting due to exhaustion. “Come on, Mylo, it’s this way,” heeseung mumbled and finally broke down, letting his tears fall cause he just couldn’t hold them in anymore.

Myla was digging at the door after it shut, and you weakly sat next to her on the ground, balling your eyes out just like you knew you would when heeseung left. 

Myla continued to whimper at the door, waiting for Mylo’s return, but it never came, and she curled up next to you where you had sat down on the floor after heeseung left. You cried and cried until you had no more tears left. It hurt far more than you had ever imagined it would.

You couldn’t believe it was actually over. It felt like just yesterday you were cleaning his wounds, and now he’s walking out your door, walking out of your life for good.

☕️.

After heeseung’s departure, he walked and walked and walked some more until he found a new spot he thought was suitable. He had gotten everything all laid out, setting up the new area and trying to replicate what he had when he was with you, but it just wasn’t the same.

“Well, it’s just you and me again, Buddy,” heeseung said to Mylo as they sat down in yet another alleyway. It definitely wasn’t as closed off from the street as his old spot, but he didn’t have a choice. It’d have to do. “Our new home,” he patted Mylo on the head, but of course, he wasn’t his usual cheery self. “You already miss myla, huh?” Mylo’s ear perked up at just the sound of her name. “Me too,” heeseung chuckled sadly. “And I miss her mommy.”

He flopped down on his sleeping bag, attempting to sleep the sadness away, but he just couldn’t get comfortable—no matter the position or how many times he tossed and turned. After sleeping on the bed, you had given him. It was hard to go back to sleeping on the cold hard ground.

But eventually, he grew so tired that his eyes had no choice but to flutter shut, and his shivering body succumbed to sleep. 

When the morning came, he tried to get up and do his normal routine, but the drive just wasn’t there like it used to be. He sat in bed feeling unmotivated and miserable all day. It had only been a few hours since he left, and he already couldn’t stand it.

He was cold, his body ached, the smell of your bacon wasn’t filling his nostrils, and the idea of being found by that same group of teenagers wasn’t helping his current situation at all.

He’s been doing this his whole life, so why now was it so hard? How come after meeting you and Myla, his life changed so drastically? How come after being alone for so long that, he suddenly craved your care and hospitality more than anything in the world.

Suddenly, his train of thought was broken when he felt warm tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t even know when he had started crying; nevertheless, he tucked himself into a ball and buried his head in his sleeping bag. No matter how positive he tried to be, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was probably going to live the rest of his life out on the street without ever seeing you again.

He started to reminisce about the first day you two met and how he treated you so harshly but soon opened up to you after seeing how kind you were. He thought about all the food you bought him, all the money you gave him, how nice you were to his precious Mylo when you didn’t even know him.

He remembers going shopping with you, and the laugh he let out was bittersweet as he remembered the little underwear incident.

Good times.

Heeseung thought of himself as the black coffee he always used to drink before you came into his life. You swooped in and managed to brighten up his bland beverage with cream, turning the dull, uninteresting liquid into something colorful and delicious, and that’s exactly what you did to him. You took his old, meaningless life and made it worth living.

It’s quite a funny analogy, but you were like the cream to his coffee.

☕️.

You took vacation the day after heeseung left cause you were in no shape or form to function at your job. You didn’t even want to get out of bed, and Myla seemed so lonely when Mylo left that you couldn’t find it in your heart to leave her alone.

For the whole day, you ate comfort food and curled up on the couch cause you were in no mood to cook, nor did you have the energy to.

Myla didn’t even eat. She spent her time moping around the house, looking for Mylo. You assumed when she had no luck, she laid down in the twin dog bed she and Mylo always used to share. You supposed his scent still lingered there by the way she was sniffing it. 

Even though he had just left, it felt like time seemed to go by as slowly as humanly possible, and with each minute that passed, the absence of heeseung brightening up your living space was crushing you inside more and more.

The reality of him being gone hit even harder in the morning when he wasn’t there to join you for breakfast.

When he wasn’t there to take the dogs for a walk.

When the smell of his aftershave wasn’t lingering in the air.

When he wasn’t cuddled up on the couch with the two dogs while you were cooking.

You know you shouldn’t have done it, but you stood from the couch, your feet leading you straight to the spare room he used to stay in. You twisted the knob taking a peek inside, just to see it completely empty, and your heart sank cause for some reason. You thought maybe, just maybe, this was all a nightmare, and he might still be there sleeping peacefully on your air mattress.

☕️.

The weekend had rolled around, and only a few days had passed since heeseung decided to go it alone. It was three in the morning, yet he found himself standing outside on your doorstep. 

About an hour ago, he had already packed up all his stuff and made the journey back to your apartment. He’d been cussed out, people threw trash at him, and to top it all off, it had started to rain, and he just couldn’t take anymore.

He now knows why he couldn’t go back to the life he used to live after he left your place. It's because after having some normalcy for once, he saw just how messed up his life had truly been being homeless and on the streets. Before you, he had absolutely nothing to compare it to, but after spending time with you, his eyes were opened. He realized that the things he’d been searching so desperately for his whole life were waiting for him behind the walls of your apartment, and he didn’t hesitate to walk an entire hour back to your home.

Heeseung took a deep breath at your door before knocking. He knew the hour was nothing but ungodly, but if he had spent another night alone, he would have lost himself out there.

You had passed out on the couch some hours ago after eating carelessly and drinking beer all night, a new daily routine of yours ever since heeseung left.

You popped up out of your sleep when you heard a knock on the door. After your eyes somewhat adjusted, you looked at the time and couldn’t help but feel startled because who the heck would be at your door this late at night? It’s not like you knew anybody in this area and you hadn’t ordered anything.

You got up quietly, tiptoeing to look through the peephole, and you thought your eyes were deceiving you, so you rubbed the sleep from them, blinking a few times before taking another look, and there stood heeseung covered in the rain at your doorstep.

Your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

You backed away from the door in pure shock, a hand covering your mouth as your eyes watered. You couldn’t believe he was actually back.

When heeseung got no answer, he couldn’t help but lose hope, his shoulders slumping in defeat, but he has never been the give-up type, and he wouldn’t start now, so he decided to knock one last time before calling it quits cause if you were asleep, he didn’t want to disturb you at this hour.

You opened the latch and the door to be greeted by heeseung smiling at you with a drenched and panting Mylo sitting next to him. “Hi, y/n,” he said softly, and just at the sight of your face, his smile dropped, and he broke down in tears just like the day you let him stay with you. “I don’t think I can take being alone anymore.” he buried his head in the crook of your neck and clung to you like you were his lifeline.

You instantly hugged him back, not caring about your clothes being soaked by his wet ones. He was shaking, and his cheek that was pressed up against yours was cold as ice. “It’s okay. You’re here with me now. You’ll never be alone again,” you told him and patted his back softly as you warmed him up in your embrace, tears pricking your eyes at his current state.

Mylo quickly ran over to Myla, his leash dragging against the carpet. As the two reconnected, she licked the raindrops off his face while he licked hers.

You pushed the door closed behind him and guided him to the couch. His hold on you tightened just in case you tried to let him go. “I’m sorry, I-it’s just I have nowhere to go. I have no one to turn to and no one who loves me,” he sobbed quietly and opened up to you in his state of desperation. “No one to take care of me, no one to hold me. It’s just been me all by myself for years, and I just can’t do it anymore. Since I met you. I don’t want to live the way I used to.” he paused. Trying to collect his breath but failing due to the sheer amount of emotions flowing through him. “My step-parents abused me when I was little, and I ran away, and since then, it’s just been me and Mylo, and I just can’t.” he was all over the place, but you were able to piece together everything, and he completely broke down in your arms letting out the most painful sobs you’d ever heard. “I’m tired, I’m just so tired,” he sighed into your chest, entirely exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“Shh,” you stroked his head softly to calm him down. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore. Just let me help you. Let me take care of you, and when you get tired, you can rest cause no matter what, I’ll always be here when you need me,” you assured him, trying to keep it together yourself cause this was all very nerve-racking for you as well to profess such care and promise all these things to him, but no matter how nerve-racking it was you knew that your words were coming from your heart and deep down you knew you could fulfill every last one.

“D-do you really mean that? You won’t ever leave me like my parents did, will you?” He asked, and he almost sounded desperate for any type of affirmation at this point, desperate to be cared for by someone.

“Look at me.” You cupped his face in your hands, his cheeks still cold to the touch, his soft brown eyes staring into your own. “I’ll never leave you, and that’s a promise.” Your body acted on its own, and you kissed his cheek softly; his eyes twinkled shut, his breathing almost evening out the moment your soft lips touched his cheek, melting all the cold away with your warmth.

You both held each other in silence for at least twenty minutes before breaking apart after he had warmed all up. “You okay now?” You asked tenderly while stroking his back.

“Yeah, I think so,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for this.” he glanced at the wet couch. “I’m sorry for coming so late.”

“Don’t worry, let’s get you cleaned up yeah?” he reluctantly released you from his grip, and you led him to the bathroom.

You stood outside the door while he undressed himself. He handed you his wet clothes, and he stepped into the shower, washing away all his trials from the past few days.

You put the discarded laundry in the washer machine while you waited for him to finish.

When he came from the bathroom, he looked much better despite his tired, swollen eyes, and you assumed all he wanted was to sleep after everything that’s happened. You informed him that you would also be taking a shower, and he nodded in response, still looking a bit shaken from the whole experience.

After your shower, you entered the living room, and heeseung was still sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. “Heeseung,” you whispered his name, and he jumped in response, making you frown. You wondered just how much he had endured out there, but that was a conversation for a different time. “Time for bed.” You grabbed his hand gently and led him to your room instead of letting him sleep alone tonight. It just wasn’t sitting right with you, especially cause he looked so broken and out of it.

“A-are you sure?” He asked when you patted a spot on the bed for him.

“Positive” This time, he really didn’t fight you cause even if it was just for tonight, he didn’t want to go to sleep alone again.

He got under the covers with you and maintained a good distance until you tugged his body towards yourself and wrapped your arms around him. After feeling your warmth, he immediately hugged you back and tangled his limbs with yours, holding you like you were his personal giant stuffed teddy bear, and you smiled softly at the innocent, childlike gesture.

You slowly stroked his back, and not even a minute later, he was passed out in your arms. Your heart swelled at the sight of him sleeping so soundly. You put your head on his chest to get comfortable, inhaling his refreshing aftershave while you fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his calming heartbeat and his comforting warmth.

☕️.

Heeseung woke up next to you, snuggling closer to you, a habit he had with Mylo every morning. “Good morning, Mylo,” he whispered. Usually, he’d be getting his morning love from Mylo by now, but when he didn’t feel licks and slobber on his face, the embarrassing reality of what he was actually doing washed over him. 

He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sleeping next to him, and he squeezed his eyes back shut.

How could I have forgotten I went to bed with her last night? He thought to himself.

Well, at least you were still sleeping and didn’t hear him embarrassing himself.

He opened his eyes again and took in your features up close. You had a little mole that he hadn’t noticed before cause it was so tiny. Your eyelashes occasionally fluttered, and you gripped his waist, nuzzling your head into his chest in your sleep.

Needless to say, his heart was racing in his chest when you did that. He couldn’t lie that it felt absolutely amazing how you were holding onto him right now, but he knew if you were awake, you wouldn’t be doing that, so to save you any embarrassment when you woke up, he slowly peeled your arms away from his body.

About a minute passed before you found your way back to his side of the bed after it got chilly. You hummed in contentment when you found his warmth once more.

He just gave in and let you hug him. He tried so hard to resist the urge to hug you back, but he couldn’t. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest while he stroked your arm lightly. He figured it would be fine since you’d be up soon anyway. 

Little did he know you were hungover from last night and you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Only a few minutes tick by, and soon his eyes slowly fell shut. He didn’t want to go back to sleep because the dogs probably needed checking up on, but your warm embrace was slowly but surely aiding him to fall back asleep in your arms peacefully.

Eventually, sometime in the evening, you stirred awake and noticed something very tall and very big sleeping next to you. All the memories from last night came flooding in, and you gasped when you remembered that you had kissed him, well on the cheek, but it was still a kiss. You probably made him feel so uncomfortable and weirded out by your stupidity.

You really felt like kicking yourself for doing that, but you blame it on the drunkenness cause if you were sober, you would have never done that.

At least you convinced yourself of that.

The headache wasn’t too bad, and the room didn’t feel like it was spinning, so that was a good sign that you didn’t drink too much.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when you saw what time it was, but you quickly remembered you were on vacation and you didn’t have work, so you allowed yourself to relax, deciding to stop worrying so much and just enjoy the afternoon with heeseung.

Speaking of, he looked so peaceful sleeping next to you, and as much as you hated to disturb him, he needed to have a proper meal.

But staying in bed for five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. You looked up at him, and you heard little snores coming from his pouted lips. You unknowingly lifted your hand and smoothed your thumb over his cheek and then his chin until you were eventually brushing his bangs out of his eyes to get a better look at his face. He nuzzled his face into your warm palm while still asleep, and your heart melted. He was so precious, and everything he said to you last night came into your mind as you admired him.

What type of people could hurt such a delicate soul?

Sure, he was a little crusty around the edges at first, but when he opened up and started to get more comfortable with you, he was a real sweetheart. Occasionally, he’d make your coffee before work, or he’d do the laundry just so he was doing something instead of using you for a free place to stay, and he even included Myla, taking her on walks with him and Mylo, treating her as if she was his own.

Maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself, but in the last month, you had really grown quite fond of him.

Your thoughts were cut off when he started to stir out of sleep. One of the two dogs had started scratching on the door, and you quickly withdrew yourself from him before he noticed you watching him sleep like a weirdo.

You hopped out of bed and looked down at the door. Of course, it was no other than Mylo and Myla staring you in the face, probably asking to go out or for food.

Heeseung sat up and rubbed his eyes, combing his fingers through his hair while he looked at the two waiting at your guy's door.

You walked out quietly and fed them both, giving heeseung time to fully wake up before going back and checking on him, and admittedly, he looked so cute under the covers relaxing. “Morning,” you said softly.

“Good morning, y/n.” he smiled tiredly, his eyes barely even open as he greeted you.

“Uhh, about last night,” you started out slowly, trying to find the best and quickest way to go about this. “I was drunk last night, so I might have done something weird, just so you know.” You chewed at your lip nervously. “Like everything I said was true, but I tend to get really affectionate when I’m drunk, so the kiss was…” you trailed off a little, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of having this conversation.

“Because you were drunk?” He finished your words for you after putting two and two together.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and stood there awkwardly.

“Oh,” he said, disappointed, and you missed the frown on his face cause you were too busy staring blankly out the window. “Okay,” that’s all he could say. There wasn’t anything else that came to mind, and he felt like the air had just been sucked out of the room as a weird tight feeling in his chest made its presence known.

“Yeah, sorry for that.” You clasped your hands together and concluded, hoping he’d forgive your stupidity. “I’m gonna go make something to eat. Do you want anything?” You tried to switch the topic smoothly, but it didn’t seem to work.

“No, thank you,” he declined with a clenched jaw, getting out of bed and going to the restroom without another word.

You buried your face in your hands, and you couldn’t help but be upset with yourself because of what you did. What made it worse was the fact he actually seemed upset about the kiss. Gosh, the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable in a space that was supposed to be safe and comfortable for him, but you did just that.

The only time you saw heeseung was when he took the dogs on a walk and came back inside, but for the rest of the day, he shut himself inside his room with Mylo.

“She was just drunk,” he laughed pathetically at himself. “Should’ve known.” he doesn’t know why he foolishly thought you might have actually been interested in him in some way. “Gosh, I’m so stupid,” he scolded himself for his ridiculous assumption about you kissing him on the cheek. “But you,” he scratched Mylo’s chin. “Mylas smitten with you huh?” He laughed. “Well, at least one of us got the girl.”

He rolled over on his bed, thinking of where to go from here, but first things first, he needed to see you. He sighed and got up out of bed, approaching you while you were sitting on the sofa watching TV with Myla. “Hey, y/n, can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked softly as he entered the living room.

You were surprised that he even showed himself to you after your nonsense earlier, and you immediately felt your heart drop. He was probably going to tell you off for kissing him and asking him to sleep with you in the same bed. He was probably going to make boundaries and not talk to you anymore unless necessary. Before more bad thoughts crept up in your head. You answer with a small yet nervous nod as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“So, umm, I don’t know how to even start this,” he sighed as Mylo sat down at his feet.

Yep, this was it. He was getting ready to tell you he didn’t want to stay here anymore. Yep, y/n, you really blew it this time. “It’s okay. Just start when you’re ready,” you said calmly despite all the anxiety filling your body.

He smiled at you, appreciative of your welcoming nature. “So I’ll just get straight to the point: I have no education or previous experience of anything, and no one wants to hire me, so unfortunately, until I can get that settled, I have no way of getting a job,” he explained the fact to you hesitantly, feeling ashamed and embarrassed that as a young adult, he had absolutely nothing going for him.

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t telling you off for kissing him last night. You imagined he was going to tell you something so much worse. “Come work with me at the cafe. I can get you in. I guarantee it.” You knew you’d have to do some sweet talking, but your manager was a good guy. He hired you when you were at your lowest, so you’re sure he’d help a guy in need like heeseung.

“But I don’t have any experience,” he worries.

“Okay, hear me out on this.” You quickly dialed your manager's number and put the phone on speaker. “Hi, boss,” you chirped when he answered.

“Y/n! Hi, you just can’t seem to get enough of this place even when you’re on vacation,” he chuckled.

“Well, boss, it’s something really important. A good friend of mine needs a job,” you unknowingly start biting on your nails out of nervousness.

“Oh! Great! Niki just went back home for the holidays, so your timing is impeccable.” You smiled slightly at that. So far, so good. You gave heeseung a thumbs up.

“There’s just one thing… he was homeless, and he doesn’t have any prior experience or anything, so I was hoping maybe you could hire him in and just give him a chance.”

You heard a long sigh over the line. “That’s asking for a lot. Do you know I need someone reliable for this position? It’s nearing fall, and that’s when we’re the busiest.”

You looked at Heeseung, and he nodded his head enthusiastically, showing you that he’d be more than reliable and you trusted him. “He is,” you said, feeling more hopeful by the second.

“You know what? I’ll give him a shot, but I won’t be nice just because he’s your friend.”

“You won’t have to. I know he’s perfect for the job,” you said with confidence.

“I trust you,” he replied. He was stern, but you knew he was a good guy, and he wouldn’t regret giving heeseung a chance.

“Thank you, boss.”

“No problem, y/n. Bring him in for an interview next Wednesday.” 

“Will do!” You hung up and smiled at heeseung, who was already staring at you with the biggest, brightest smile on his face. You literally were his guardian Angel.

“You’re amazing!” He smiled even wider, tackling you in a hug. Out of pure joy, he swears if he got the job, he’d do everything to repay you.

☕️.

“Y/n, I’m so nervous,” heeseung whined, adjusting his dress shirt for the thousandth time.

“Don’t be.” You stood in front of him, taking his hands off his shirt and fixing his tie for him so he wouldn’t have to fidget with it anymore. “You’re gonna do great, I know it.” You had already rehearsed at home, and he did excellently; he had absolutely nothing to worry about. If he hadn’t told you he didn’t have prior experience before, then you wouldn’t have known with how professionally he answered all your questions.

He nodded at your words and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the interview. “Thanks, y/n, I really mean it.” 

“Anytime.” You smiled at him and checked your watch. “It’s time.”

You cheered him on quietly as your boss made an appearance from the back of the cafe. “You must be heeseung?” 

“Yes sir, nice to meet you.” heeseung stood up and took confident steps towards your boss, extending his hand for a handshake. He looked back at you and smiled one last time before going in for his interview.

You felt nervous for him, but you don’t even know why cause you knew he’d do great.

Not even twenty minutes later, he came out with a beaming smile on his face, and you could already tell he had good news. Your body reacted out of excitement, and you immediately ran to him, engulfing him in a big hug. “I got the job!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you. I promise I’m going to repay you in full.” he rocked you back and forth in his arms, and this had to be the best day of his entire life.

☕️.

After you and heeseung went back home, you were both just relaxing on the couch, talking about any random topics that came up while the TV played in the background. Heeseung was extra chatty today. The excitement of getting a job still hadn’t left his body yet.

He smiled and scooted a little closer to you as the two babies stuffed themselves on the couch next to you guys. “I know I haven’t even started the job yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll repay you, I promise.”

“Heeseung, thank you, but there’s no need, really,” you tell him earnestly.

“Y/n, you’re too nice to me. You’ve given me everything, and I’ve done nothing in return for you. I want to pay you back. Please let me.” he looked at you, eyes full of nothing but sincerity. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, but you’ve done more than you know,” you tell him, resting your hand on his knee.

“What do you mean by that?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Where do I start?” You sat up straight, hand still softly stroking his knee. “First of all, you’ve given this place life. You gave Myla a friend, and you really brightened up my days. Everything is just better when you’re around, you know?” You retracted your hand nervously, playing with a stray thread on the couch.

“How?” Everything you told him just now was a completely foreign concept. He felt like a burden. He never felt appreciated or cared for. He always just felt like he was an obstacle in someone’s way, rather that be down a random alleyway on the street or back at his adoptive parent's house, so your words were confusing to him, to say the least.

“Cause you’re just fun to be around.” You grew flustered as soon as the words left your mouth. “I like your company, and you make me feel comfortable and safe.” 

“Me? You mean that? Like actually?” he mumbled while looking down at his lap.

“I do.” his head quickly shot up at your words, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. No one had ever told him anything like that in his whole entire life, and he couldn’t fathom how anyone could feel that way about him, especially cause all his young adult life, he was told that he was useless, and now here you are telling him the exact opposite.

He quickly hid his face in his palms, hiding his tears from you. “I-I think I need to be alone right now.” he stood up abruptly and walked to the spare bedroom while you sat there half worried, half confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” You whispered to yourself.

Heeseung was just far too overwhelmed with emotions to even respond to you. He wasn’t trying to walk out on you like that, but he needed to gather himself first. He didn’t know what to do; everything he’d felt with you in these past few weeks was so weird, not in a bad way, but in a way that he’d never felt anything like it. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you or anything you’ve done for him so far, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He was so so thankful for you.

You played with the dogs on the couch for the meantime despite being worried about heeseung. You gave him some time to himself before you went to check in on him. You knocked softly on his door prior to entering. “Heeseung?”

“Yeah, come in.” he quickly wiped his tears as you entered, but anyone with eyes could see he had just been crying.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly and took a seat beside him, your hand automatically stroking his back soothingly.

“I’m more than okay. I’m perfect,” he smiled, pulling you into his arms and hugging you impossibly close. Naturally, you hugged him back cause you absolutely loved his hugs. They were so warm, and they could take any stress away. You felt content just being in his arms.

“Are you sure?” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, and he hummed in response, hugging you a little tighter.

“I’m just overjoyed, that’s all,” he sighs in contentment.

“Oh, I’m glad.” You patted his back gently, relieved that you hadn’t said anything offensive to him. “I was thinking if you wanted to, we could celebrate your employment with dinner.”

“Ooh, okay, what are we gonna make?” He asked, releasing you from his arms, an excited expression on his face.

“Oh umm, I was thinking of going out to eat,” you tell him your idea.

“Wow, okay, that sounds fun. I’ve never eaten out before. What should I wear? How should I act?” He hopped off his bed, searching through his very, very small wardrobe, which reminds you you need to take him shopping again. All he had was loungewear and a suit for his interview.

His excitement was absolutely adorable to you, but when you found out he’d never been to dinner before, that broke your heart. Something that most people do naturally was something foreign to him, and you realized in that moment you took a lot of things for granted. “Just wear something comfy,” you smiled.

☕️.

“Be good while I’m gone. Don’t mess up any more of y/n’s furniture, got it? She’s kind enough to let us stay here, so we must respect her.” Mylo just sat there, tail wagging while he looked at his master. “You don’t got it, do you?” Heeseung frowned. Mylo had already practically destroyed your table in the kitchen, and something deep down told him Mylo wasn’t going to stop until the living room furniture was polished in his scratch marks.

“Heeseung, it’s fine. Besides, I needed a new table anyways.”

“But-“

“Come on, we’ll be late for our reservation.” You grabbed his head, leading him to the door.

“Wait, how do I look?” He was in a plain white dress shirt, black slacks, and hair slicked back to perfection, and he smelled delicious.

“Handsome,” you complimented him as casually as you could despite your heart pumping wildly in your chest.

“You look beautiful,” you thanked him shyly as you both just kinda stood there awkwardly until one of you came back to your senses after staring at each other for far too long.

“The reservation,” he mumbled slowly, still taking in your beauty.

“Yeah,” you whispered and shook your head to break out of your trance, finally leaving your apartment, praying that the babies would behave while you were both gone.

☕️.

Going out and spending time with heeseung really made time fly by. He was just so down to earth you never really got the chance to settle down and talk to him one-on-one, but after tonight, you learned a lot of things about him. Despite his past, he was very bright and hopeful. He was an extremely humble and admirable person, and you could tell once he got on his feet, he was going to have a very bright future ahead of him and you’re just happy you could help him get there..

The dinner went smoothly. Two hours passed by way too soon, and it was already time to go back home, but you were hoping you could both do this again sometime really soon.

The both of you gasped in pure shock the moment you entered your apartment. “Mylo! Get off of her!” heeseung shirked, but it was a bit too late for that. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,” heeseung quickly apologized as you closed your apartment door and stood outside with a shocked expression, trying to take in the fact that the two of your babies were mating while you both were out.

“Well, I think the furniture is the least of our concerns,” you joked.

“Yeah,” heeseung laughed along with you, still a bit shocked as well. From what he could tell, Mylo wasn’t showing any signs, but he supposed it was mating season after all. Time had really flown since he started staying with you.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” Heeseung looked up at you, his honey-like eyes staring into your own, and just like at dinner, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from them. “You know, while they have their alone time,” you chuckled.

“Sure, a walk sounds nice,” he smiles, taking your hand in his as he helps you down the stairs. He immediately lets go the moment you reach the bottom of the steps, and you’re kinda disappointed at the loss of contact, but you and him didn’t have a relationship quite like that, so holding your hand would be a bit inappropriate at the moment. “So I guess we’re gonna have a bunch of baby Mylas and Mylo’s running around the apartment.” 

“I guess so.” You still couldn’t believe that they actually mated. That was the last thing on your mind when you guys left for dinner.

“Ohh, I already have some names,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Myah for a girl and Myles for a boy.”

“That’s really cute, heeseung, but surely we can’t keep all those puppies,” you say. Of course, you wanted them, but where would they all go?

“We can’t keep them?” Heeseung pouts.

“Where would we put them all? She’s gonna have at least four, and that’s at least,” you exclaimed. You heard they could have up to 15, and if that happened, you were going to be in for a real surprise.

“Yeah….you’re right,” he replies, already sulking cause he couldn’t keep all the baby puppies.

“We can keep the puppies.” You tell him to lighten his mood and his eyes light up right away as he looks at you.

“Really?!” He says excitedly.

“But,” you say sharply. “When they grow, we have to take them to a shelter or something.” his shoulders immediately slump down again.

You really aren’t sure what’s going on in that little noggin of his, but did he really think you could have an apartment full of adult shepherds?

“Okay,” he literally sounded just like a child who couldn’t get their way, and you shook your head softly, deciding to deal with that problem a bit further down the road.

“So…” you continued your little walk, enjoying what was left of the warm weather. “Did you enjoy your time?”

“I loved it. I haven’t had so much fun in ages. Do you think we could go out again sometime soon?” You smile softly, nodding your head. One thing you liked about Heeseung was that he was never shy about showing his gratitude and thankfulness. “I know I already said it, but I’m gonna keep saying it. Thank you for everything.” he came to a stop and turned to you. “You really saved my life, y/n, and I mean it. Without you, I would have lost hope by now.”

“Nonsense,” you laughed it off. You weren’t going to take all the credit for his hard work over the years.

“No, really, I was giving up until you came along and gave me something to look forward to. Gave me some type of hope that if I just held on a little longer, something special would come my way or someone special.” he took a step closer, his eyes locked on your lips until they darted to your eyes before he engulfed you in a hug and again you were a bit disappointed cause you really, really thought he might have kissed you with they way he looked at your lips, but you’re sure you just imagine that cause who were you kidding? He probably didn’t even like you like that, plus your relationship was purely platonic, so it’d be weird if he kissed you, even though you really wished he did.

“You’re gonna make me cry, heeseung.” You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close.

“Please do. I don’t want to be the only one crying here,” he chuckles as warm tears roll down his cheeks.

“Okay,” you laugh slightly, your own tears now wetting his dress shirt.

Eventually, it got late, and after his heartfelt confession, you both went home. If you didn’t catch Mylo and Myla in the act, you’d think they slept the whole time while you and heeseung were gone, but no.

You and heeseung tiptoed together down the hall so you wouldn’t wake the babies and finally go your separate ways after spending the whole day and night together. “Thanks again for today. Goodnight y/n,”

“Goodnight, hee,” you whisper, and he only registered what you called him once you closed the door, and he went to sleep with a silly little smile on his face from the nickname you’d given to him.

☕️.

“So Hoon, this is my good friend heeseung, and you’ll be training him today.” your vacation was over, and this was heeseung’s first day on the job, so the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. You were so excited you got to work with him on his first day.

“Woah Woah Woah, I never signed up for any of this. When did you become the boss?” Sunghoon raised his brow with a teasing look.

“I’m not the boss, but I’m the boss of you, so you do what I say.” You put your hands on your hips, speaking matter-of-factly.

“Yes, boss,” he saluted, making you giggle. “Hi, my name is Sunghoon.” he quickly turned to heeseung, shaking his hand politely.

“Hi, I’m heeseung.” sunghoon nodded and focused his attention back to you. 

Heeseung just stood there awkwardly, watching you and Sunghoon laugh and converse amongst yourselves. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling when he saw you and Sunghoon talking, but whatever it was didn’t feel good, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

Heeseung just moped around for the time being, looking at all the different coffee machines until you two had finally stopped talking. “Alright, time to get you familiar around here. My name is Sunghoon, and wait, I already said that. Never mind, just follow me.” he put his arm on heeseung’s back and led him to the back while you gave him an excited little wave.

Hours passed by, and the training was going smoothly. Sunghoon had no doubts about your friend. He’d do just perfect here. “I knew you’d be good at this. With your skills and that face; you’ll be getting all my tips in no time,” Sunghoon laughed.

“What do you mean? Your tips? Is that like a good thing?” Heeseung asked curiously.

“Well, good for you, bad for me,” he chuckled. “If you think you’re ready, I can show you how to take orders as early as today.”

“Oh yes, I’m ready,” Heeseung said, determined he wanted to know everything so he could perform his absolute best. Ever since he stepped into the building, he wanted to prove himself and be the best worker he could be.

When the customers started coming in, heeseung was a bit nervous in the beginning, but he got over it after the first few customers and took the orders smoothly. Just after one day, he was already proficient in everything, which was kinda scary to Sunghoon but also very good.

“What did you do to him?” You asked Sunghoon as you both watched him working away from the back. He was handling each customer so professionally it took you at least a week to get that comfortable, and here he is doing it all in one day.

“Don’t blame this on me. You’re the one who brought that freak of nature in here.” sunghoon put his hands up in defense, going to make some of the orders heeseung was taking.

“You’re doing great.” you walked up to heeseung when things started to slow down a bit. “And it’s only your first day,” you congratulated him, patting him on his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.” he was still feeling weird from what happened earlier, and he didn’t feel like talking much right now unless he had to. Whatever this stupid feeling was in his chest, he hoped it’d go away soon so he could focus on work fully.

“Boss will want you at full-time right away,” you smiled.

“Cool,” he forced a laugh as some more customers came through the door.

Odd, you thought, but shook it off. He seemed to be acting different all day, but he was probably a little stressed from taking on so much work in one day. “Here, $1,76 is your change, and your order will be right out.” he smiled politely at the customer as you watched from a distance while cleaning tables.

The customer in said topic was absolutely beautiful; she had long blonde hair, blue eyes, a pretty smile, and perfect skin. To top it all off, she was so polite.

You knew heeseung was just doing his job, but to see him smiling at her so brightly while he barely acknowledged you at all today made your stomach turn.

But you shook that off, too, cause you and heeseung weren’t dating, and you were just being a little irrational at this point.

Heeseung was the same with you throughout the rest of the shift, and even when you guys went home, he wasn’t talkative. He didn’t eat dinner, and he barely managed to mumble out a goodnight before he went to his room and never came back out for the rest of the night, which was especially odd because he always used to want to watch TV with you before bed.

You just sighed, wondering what could be on his mind and making him act so differently towards you, but again, you chalked it up to stress and hoped he’d be feeling better by tomorrow after a good night's rest.

Needless to say, you went to bed in a sour mood, hoping the next morning would be better.

☕️.

Except it wasn’t.

The girl that you had been envious of previously came back the very next day.

Your blood was already boiling the moment she came in, and you had grown tired of her overly affectionate attitude towards him very quickly.

At first, you weren’t too bothered. You thought she was just being polite to him, which was fine, but when she came back and started making small talk with your ma- heeseung, you could barely even hold it together, and what made it all worse was that he still wasn’t acting like himself. He rarely talked to you at all this morning and if he did it was only if he needed help with something.

Yet he was perfectly fine with chatting away with her. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You couldn’t help but wonder.

“If looks could kill, that girl would be six feet under,” Sunghoon chimes as if you needed his two cents right now.

“Whatever.” You tossed the towel over your shoulder, going to the back to wash down some dishes so you wouldn’t have to hear her, but you still did, unfortunately, and what you heard next made you take an early break.

“Here’s my number. I was thinking we could go out on a date sometime,” she handed him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“O-oh,” heeseung blushed a little. This was the first time he’d ever been asked out before, well, except for you, but that was different, and he didn’t really know what to say or do. “Okay, yeah, sure, we can go out sometime.” he smiles a little awkwardly.

“Great! Bye, cutie,” she waved to him, and he stood there with the biggest smile on his face.

“Bye,” he said softly, and he tucked the number safely into his back pocket.

You took your apron off and slammed it on the back counter before taking a break.

You knew you were overreacting, but you just needed a minute for this to all settle in, but before you could even let your frustrations out. Heeseung was sitting right next to you, and you had to play off your anger and disguise it as being tired. “Hey, y/n, how come you’re taking a break so early?” Heeseung was finally starting to feel a little bit more like himself now that you and Sunghoon weren’t literally joined at the hip. He felt like he could get your attention back on him, at least while on break, that is.

“Just tired,” you reply, completely uninterested in having a conversation right now.

“Ah, I see.” he clears his throat. “I’ll ask you later then.”

“It’s fine, hee,” you tell him, and he goes ahead and continues on.

His heart started to beat quicker hearing the nickname you gave him, but he did his best to compose himself.“So, like, this girl just asked me out.” Oh no, you really wish you hadn’t told him to tell you because this is the last thing you want to hear about right now. “And I’m really nervous about it because I’ve never been asked out on a date before,” he picked at his nails.

So he didn’t think of the other night he spent with you as a date?

Ouch.

But again, you guys weren’t dating, so it really wasn’t a date, even if you really wanted it to be. “That’s great! Heeseung, it’s okay to be nervous on your first date.” You patted his shoulder comfortingly despite feeling a growing ache in your chest.

“I just don’t want to mess it up or make a fool out of myself, you know?” He poured out his worries to you. “Cause, as you know, I have a habit of saying too much sometimes,” he laughs softly.

“You won’t, hee, I promise.” you smile and stand up, not having the physical or mental strength to talk to him about this any longer cause the thought of him with another girl that isn’t you was tearing you apart inside which you know is stupid because you’ve never even made any advances towards him. Still, you just wanted to take things slow, apparently, though that wasn’t the best approach cause someone had gotten to him before you could work up the courage to. “Just be yourself.”

“Just be myself,” he whispered while you were walking away. He took the piece of paper with the number on it out of his pocket and looked at it. “She’s right.” he stayed outside on the back steps, enjoying the last little bit of his break.

☕️.

“Y/n! I’m heading out now. Could you tell me how I look?” You heard heeseung shouting from the living room while you were lying in bed with a headache cause all week, all he did was talk about his stupid date, and all week, you had to pretend that you were happy for him.

“You look good,” you said once you went to the living room and saw him standing there in a very, very attractive outfit.

“O-oh,” he looked down at his outfit, rethinking his choice cause whenever you called him handsome, he felt confident, but since you said he just looked good, he started feeling a little self-conscious about himself. “Just good? Not handsome?” He pouted.

You sighed and walked closer to him. “No, hee, you look handsome as always. Go and enjoy your date, okay?” You corrected his tie, took a little piece of lint off his top, and patted his chest.

“Yes, ma'am,” he smiles as he exits the door, feeling warm inside after getting your approval.

☕️.

You were literally seething on your bed, and you couldn’t take it, knowing that the man you liked was out on a date with some girl who probably didn’t even deserve him.

You almost knew for a certainty she only asked him out that day cause of his looks. It’s not like she gave him food and money when he was on the street. Where was she when he was alone and scared? Exactly, absolutely nowhere.

But you were and still are and always will be.

But you knew that was a stupid way of thinking. He doesn’t have to be obligated to like you just cause you willingly took care of him, but still, you wished he felt the same way about you that you felt for him.

As sad as it was, though, you were still happy for him. He’s come so far, and he deserves to be happy after all he’s been through. You just wanted him to be happy even if things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to, even if you weren’t the one that made him happy.

When ten o’clock came, heeseung was thanking his stars because he had the absolute worst time ever. He thought he was gonna have fun like the dinner you took him out on, and it was everything but that. 

He knocked softly on the door, hoping you were still awake at this hour. “Hi, y/n,”

“Hey, hee, did you have fun?” You asked after calming yourself down from all the negative thoughts that you had previously.

“Oh gosh, no, she kept asking me to drink, and I don’t drink. I tried it, though, and it was really bad, and then out of nowhere, she tried to kiss me, and I obviously declined because I wasn’t interested, plus her breath smelled like alcohol, and then she got upset, and we didn’t even get dessert” he pouted. “And she kept asking if I wanted to Netflix and chill. I don’t even know what Netflix is, and to my knowledge, we were already chilling,” he whined, going on and on about the horrors of his date.

Something told you he didn’t have much experience in the dating scene either, and you had to stifle your laugh because he looked so adorable and clueless. After hearing about his date you knew your suspicions about her liking him just for his looks were true, but you still couldn’t believe she was that forward with him, especially drinking on the first date.

“I’m sorry. We have ice cream in the freezer. Are you still up for some dessert?” You suggested hoping to save his terrible night with a sweet treat.

“Yes, please,” he sighed. All he wanted was to change his clothes and spend some time with you after his horrible date. “Y/n, what’s Netflix and chill?” He asked innocently while you both sat at the table and ate ice cream together. This was already ten times better than his date.

Oh, boy, were you in for a ride. Not only did you have to explain to him what Netflix and chill was, but you also had to tell him about why people typically asked other people out on dates and the expressions he made once he realized that were precious but also hilarious.

“Eww, no, No Netflix and chill, just dessert,” he whined. He knows better than to go on a date again, if you could even call it that.

“Okay, just dessert,” you laughed and ruffled his hair, serving him and yourself some more ice cream. You both went to the living room and cozied up on your sofa, watching some TV and enjoying each other’s presence for the rest of the night.

☕️.

You felt bad for liking the fact that heeseung’s date went bad, but you quickly erased those silly thoughts from your head. He was single, and he could be with whoever he liked, and you accepted that, which you’re so glad you did cause, apparently, he was the most wanted man; everyone at the cafe was fawning over him, not just you and Sunghoon but guys and girls too. It was busier than ever after he got hired there. The tips they left for him were insane, not to mention all the numbers he got from women. he just ignored them, though, after that horrible date he went on, he wasn’t up for going on another one anytime soon, besides hanging out with a girl that wasn’t you just didn’t feel right to him anyway. No one made him feel safe and comfortable to be himself like you did.

He was already having a rough day after his failed date last night. On top of all the compliments, small talk, and outward flirting he was getting, it was just a little exhausting, and when he saw you and “Hoon” talking, it just soured his mood even more, that same weird feeling bubbling up in his chest, again. “Y/n, can you help me with the register, please?” He knew darn well he didn’t need any help, but if it stopped you from talking to that guy you called Hoon, then he was more than happy to pretend he needed help. “Thanks, y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” he smiles and awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder, attempting to show you some type of affection even though he doesn’t really know how.

You do your best to hide your flustered state and reply. “You’re welcome. I’m always here for you.” You placed your hand over his, which was still lingering on you, sending jolts of electricity through his body, awakening all the little butterflies in his tummy.

Not even five minutes later, after your guy’s little moment, you were in the back with Sunghoon talking again about god knows what while heeseung used every last tactic to split you guys up, but somehow, you always found your way back together again.

“You need some help?” Sunghoon asked heeseung, who was angrily scrubbing away at the dishes after closing.

“No,” he said without even looking at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon smiled a knowing smile. Heeseung was so obvious it was adorable. “I know you like y/n, and I know you think we have something going on, but I’m taken, and y/n and I are just really close friends.” he could see the jealousy just oozing off of heeseung for the whole day the same jealousy that was oozing off you just a week prior.

“What are you on about? I don’t like y/n like that, and if you guys are dating, I don’t care either,” he replied harshly.

“Pretty sure she likes you too, and maybe when you’re not looking like you want to bite my head off, you could ask her out,” Sunghoon jokes.

“She does?” heeseung says excitedly, his eyes lighting up, causing Sunghoon to let out a hearty laugh. “Wait,” heeseung sighs. “I-I'm sorry, I just don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the heck is happening to me,” he pouts, unknowingly dropping the sponge he was using in the sink, his shoulders soon deflating in defeat.

“You’re jealous you’re in love, and you’re confused about it, and you don’t know it, that’s it.” sunghoon pats heeseung’s shoulders. “But no worries, once you ask her out, it’ll all be fine. Trust me, I was just like you before I got with my girl.”

Heeseung gives him a small smile. “You think she likes me back? It doesn’t seem like it,” heeseung said innocently. His mind couldn’t help but wander back to the time you said kissing him on the cheek was a mistake. Since that day, he just gave up hope that you would like him back altogether.

“She likes you back,” Sunghoon assured him. “She definitely likes you back,” he says, remembering all the jealous glares you were giving to the customers today.

“O-oh, okay,” he blushed. “When should I do it?”

Oh brother, where did you find him? Oh yeah, on the street. “When it feels right,” he gave heeseung a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “Now go home with y/n. I’ll finish up here.” he took heeseung’s spot in front of the sink.

“But-“

“It’s alright, just go home,” heeseung thanked him profusely and already thought of a million ways to repay him the next time he saw him.

☕️.

When it feels right.

It always feels right. He thinks he feels right whenever he’s with you. Right now, being on the couch while you sit and watch TV together feels right. “Y/n? Can I ask you a question?” You shift your attention to heeseung, who is already turned towards you, looking at you with a serious expression on his face. 

“Of course.” You turned down the volume on the TV so you could answer his question while giving him your full attention.

“I like you. Do you want to go out on a date with me?” He says softly, eyes showing heavy emotion as he waits for your answer. He’s a little tense and really nervous, but he’s still smiling, that pretty little smile of his.

Your ears must be wrong or something cause there’s no way the Lee Heeseung wanted you to go on a date with him.

Not when he has people lined up quite literally asking him for his number on a daily basis.

But when he stares at you, not saying anything else and waiting patiently for your answer, you realize that he is indeed asking you to go out with him, and he’s one hundred percent serious. “Yes, heeseung, I would love that!” You all but jump on his lap excitedly. “Of course, I want to go on a date with you!”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, hands automatically wrapping around your torso. “Okay,” he breathed the deep breath he was holding for the last minute. “I can’t wait,” he mutters. 

“Me neither,” you whisper, getting lost in his sweet brown eyes.

“Do you want to go now?” He doesn’t want to rush it, but he really wants to spend another day with you, like the one you both celebrated during his employment.

“Sure, hee, we can go now.” You smile at him, unable to contain your excitement.

“Okay!” He returns your smile and goes to his room to get dressed cause, of course, he has to look handsome for you.

Meanwhile, you’re squealing onto the couch, ruffling your hair cause you were about to go insane lee heeseung actually liked you back and wanted to take you out for a date.

When you looked up, Mylo and Myla were staring at you with their eyes wide and ears pulled back from your loud shrieks. “Don’t judge me,” you pointed at them and ran to your room to get dressed and ready for your date with heeseung.

☕️.

After you both stood in the living room for at least five minutes complimenting each other's outfits like broken records, you finally left the house.

It was all fun asking you out, but when it came to the part about actually going out, Heeseung didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know how to drive, so he was already feeling a bit self-conscious when you had to drive. He hadn’t received his first check yet, so he couldn’t even treat you, and now his mood was down. 

You were both having a good conversation, but he got lost in thought, wondering what you’d think about him not being the one taking the initiative. After all, he was taking you on a date, not the other way around. “Hee, are you okay?” You ask when you saw him completely zoned out.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he sighed, fake smiling at you, and he couldn’t help but think after tonight, you’d probably never want to go back out with him ever again. Little did he know you were having the best night of your life. You weren’t thinking about how he didn’t drive you. You weren’t thinking about how he didn’t pay. All you were thinking about was how much fun you were having with him and how lucky you were to be out on a date with the person you liked for what felt like forever.

“No, you’re not. You haven’t even touched your ice cream, and you love ice cream.” You furrow your brows, wondering what changed so suddenly, everything was going fine, and then suddenly it wasn’t.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he apologized out of nowhere, making the situation even more confusing for you. Before you could even ask why, he went on to explain. “I know you’re disappointed with our date, but I just want you to know that when I get my check, I’ll take you out somewhere. I promise I’ll pay for everything, and with all the tips I’ve been getting, I’ve been saving up for a car, and I know I haven’t even paid you back yet, but I swear I will and-“

“Heeseung, what are you even saying?” You ask him in disbelief.

How could he possibly think you were disappointed? You were literally having the best night of your life all thanks to him.

“I’m saying that I’m still just a useless bum, and I’m sorry I can’t give you more.” Your heart breaks when you see his eyes begin to water. The now beautiful date outside on the balcony all of a sudden turned gloomy.

“Hee…” You place your hand over his, and he retracts it, resting his hand on his lap as he looks down. “No,” you whisper and scoot your chair next to his, leaning into his side. “I don’t want more; I just want you.” he looks up, his teary gaze meets yours, and your eyes look so beautiful and sincere that he can’t help but get lost in them. “I don’t care how much you have or how much you don’t have. I just want you.” You cup his cheek, stroking it softly with your thumb. “But if you insist on giving me more than kiss me,” he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly tries to compose himself, which you find adorable like everything else he does. At least a minute passes before he even moves, but you don’t mind cause you’d wait forever for him.

“But-“

“Kiss me, hee, please,” and he does just that. His eyes slowly flutter shut. The last image he remembers is of your beautiful eyes and your soft, puckered lips. As he leans in, placing his lips on yours, his body heats up immediately, and the chills he had gotten from the ice cream prior completely wither away. He lifts his hand, cupping your cheek as well while his warm lips rest against yours, and the kiss is so soft, so sweet, so delicate that he almost feels like he’s going to cry cause he’s never felt anything like it ever and seconds later he does cry a stray tear rolling down his cheek as he reluctantly separates himself from you.

He never said it to anyone, not even his adoptive parents, but for some reason that he can’t pinpoint, the words just come out of his mouth like it was just any ordinary thing to say to someone. “I love you.” When he hears himself, his eyes widen, almost like he was scared of what your reaction would be, and you laugh softly cause he was always such a sweetheart.

Your own eyes get teary while you swipe the tear off his cheek. “I love you too.” his whole body melts, relaxing into your touch as his smile spreads so wide that it reaches you, and you can’t help but smile back as he sniffles softly. 

At that moment, you didn’t have a doubt in the world when you said those words to him. If anything, it felt natural, like a weight had been lifted, and you had finally poured out all your feelings that you kept bottled up for so long, and it felt amazing.

While you were staring at him, he pecked your lips again before pulling away.

No words needed to be spoken. The love reflected in each of your eyes, and as the night continued, it was filled with laughter, longing smiles, and endless shy glances as you took turns feeding each other the now melted ice cream, but somehow, even though it was melted, it tasted sweeter this way.

☕️.

Hand in hand, you both walked to the same little dog park that you and he went to the day he left. You were so glad those days were behind you. You both sat on the bench together, reminiscing about the first day you both met.

“And you remember when you yelled at me at the cafe?” You asked, laughing softly.

“Oh god,” he hides in the crook of your neck, whining about the embarrassing memories. “I’m still so sorry for that.”

“You were like, I don’t need your help. Just leave me alone,” you teased him further. At the time, it wasn’t exactly a laughing matter, but looking back at it now, it was funny, especially to see how far you both come now. 

“I remember,” he sighed. “It was the night before that group of assholes attacked us. You had given me some cash, I went to the convenience store and bought Mylo some food, but before I could pay, I saw that they were messing with Mylo, so I ran outside, and next thing you know, they’re running off, I went back in the store, grabbed my change and left without a second thought and then the next day I had an interview which went horribly by the way, so I take the bus back home, but before that, I went to the cafe and placed my order and when I went to pull out the money I’m short cause that cashier took my change” you listen intently to his story, that was a lot happening in the short time span of a day.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. It must have been so hard.” You kissed his cheek, your hand moving to the back of his head to play with his hair as he nuzzled into your neck.

“It was baby,” he sighed. “So hard.” The pet name slips out without him even knowing, and it makes your heart beat like ten times faster cause he called you baby. You were literally screaming inside.

“So you tried to get work in the past?” You ask, toying with the little hairs on his nape as his eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm fingers on his skin. He could stay like this forever.

“Hmm, many times, and I failed many times. I prefer not to go into detail if you don’t mind,”

“It’s okay, I understand.” You kissed the crown of his head.

“A lot happened in the past nine years, but it was mainly just me finding different alleyways to sleep, going days without food. People judging me for being homeless, which wasn’t fair because they didn’t even know my situation,” he leaned back, sitting up straight, your hand still resting on the back of his head. “I didn’t choose to be homeless. I was forced. What would anyone else do if they were being abused at home? Just sit there and take it, no? So I left, and I never looked back, and even after all the stuff I’ve been through and how bad I’ve been treated just for having less than someone else, it was still better because, in some twisted way, it was better to get hit and yelled at by strangers than your own family you know?” He sniffles, unable to hide his emotions when talking about his past. “Since my real parents turned their backs on me, I turned my back on people, and that’s why when you tried to help me, I assumed you were just like the rest, just giving me money cause you pitied me, and that’s the last thing I wanted cause it made me feel pathetic, made me feel like I was incapable, made me feel weak and useless” he wipes away some of his tears as you rub his back. “But you just wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he laughs, and you smile softly despite the tears you had shed somewhere when he was telling you his story. “That day down that alley, that’s when I knew you were different cause no one had ever gone through that much trouble just for me, and I still think about that day every day. You literally saved me from my old life. You gave me something to look forward to, and you gave me a reason to keep going. It’s funny telling you this now, but the time I left after you took me in, I thought about all our moments together, but one stood out to me the most,” he smiles.

“What’s that?” You say, swiping his cheek where the tears had dried up. 

“I thought to myself about that day when you offered me cream with my coffee.” You furrow your brows, wondering where he was going with this. “Before you, I used to just drink plain black coffee, and after you, I started to drink it with cream.” he held your hand in his thumb, circling the back of it. “And from that moment on, I always said to myself, you were the cream to my coffee. You brightened the dark, bland beverage with light and sweetness, and since that day, I’ve never had black coffee.”

The smile that grew on your face was probably the most genuine, sincere, pure thing heeseung had ever laid his eyes on.

You couldn’t help but hug him so tight, his words hitting every nerve in your body, lighting it up with nothing but pure joy and happiness. You had no idea he thought that highly of you. Sure, you went out of your way to help him, but the fact he said you literally saved him warmed your heart to no end, and if you had the chance, you’d gladly do it all over again. “I love you, coffee,” you confessed, your hands still tightly wrapped around his waist.

“And I love you, cream,” he grins as the sun sets behind you two, bringing this lovely date to its end.

☕️.

“So, did you ask her?” Sunghoon whispers to heeseung while you’re obliviously taking orders.

Heeseung enthusiastically nods his head. “She said yes, and we went out together,” he nearly squeals.

“Ha! I told you!” Sunghoon pinched heeseung on the cheek, making the elder male turn an even brighter shade of red.

“Told what?” You went to the back, where heeseung and Sunghoon looked to be talking and slacking off.

“What? Told who? What happened? I didn’t hear anything. Did you hear anything?” Sunghoon rambles.

“Nope, nothing!” Heeseung practically shouts his reply as you stare at the two in confusion.

“Is that dust? Wow, you know what? I think that’s dust, haha. Let me just squeeze by here.” Sunghoon leaves to go clean the imaginary dust, leaving heeseung all by himself.

“Am I missing something here?” You ask.

“No, nope, nothing at all,” his response is quick as he goes back to washing dishes, and you finished making the orders like nothing ever happened.

“Strange,” you mumbled but shrugged it off, besides heeseung and Sunghoon seemed fine the rest of the day, so you didn’t question it again.

“Hey, y/n, I was thinking if you want, we could go on another date today. You know, if you want, you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re probably tired from work, and I thought it might be nice just to maybe go out and relax, but yeah, you know, actually, never mind because you-“

You quickly cut him off with a soft kiss on his lips. Luckily, most of the customers had cleared out by now, giving you the green light to show affection to your adorable co-worker. “I’d love to.” You walk away from him with a smile while he stands there like a deer in the headlights, softly touching his lips.

“Uhh yeah, okay,” he completely drops what he’s doing and goes from behind the register to clean the tables, even though you were already doing that. 

“Heeseung?” You call to him cause he is literally right next to you, helping you clean the same exact table.

“Hmm?” He hums.

“The register isn’t going to count itself,” you tell him playfully, noticing how ever since you kissed him, he seemed like he was slightly out of it.

“O-oh, okay.” he acknowledged what you said but hadn’t fully processed it yet. “Ohhhhhhhh right, yeah right.” his ears turned bright red, and he scurried on back to the register diligently counting the drawer, and you shook your head softly.

He was impossible.

☕️.

The date was going great. Of course, heeseung loved every last bit of it. He could literally go on a date with you every single day. That’s just how much he loved being with you, except there was a one tiny little problem, nothing major, but he was just so lost in thought. What were you talking about? Well, he doesn’t exactly know. He can’t listen because he’s been thinking about asking you this for weeks now, and when you take a small break from talking, he slips it in. It’s so out of place for anyone else, but it’s perfect for him. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He struggles to make eye contact with you. His eyes are shaking, and his heart is racing, yet he just can’t seem to look away from you, no matter how shy or flustered he gets.

You were talking about work one moment, and the next, your very handsome date is asking you to be his girlfriend. You’re stunned, you’re shocked, flabbergasted, and every other term used for astonishment when he asks you that, and all you can do is smile, which automatically makes him smile and he’s hoping that’s a good sign. 

His eyes gleam with hope, and your eyes gleam with nothing but joy as a few tears well in them. “Yes, heeseung, I would love nothing more than to be your girlfriend.” You nod softly, an even bigger smile gracing his lips now that you’ve said yes.

“Great!” He says, followed by a laugh, getting a bit teary-eyed himself. “Why do we always end up crying when we’re together?” He jokes, his smile turning into a slight frown as he breaks out in tears of happiness. 

You giggle through tears and reach your hand out, intertwining your fingers together with his. 

“My girlfriend,” he whispers, bringing your hand to his mouth and placing a soft kiss on it. 

“My boyfriend,” he grins, and he doesn’t think that his life could be any better than being here with you right now. He’d do it all over again just to be sitting here staring into your beautiful eyes, calling you his.

☕️.

The whole way back home, heeseung just couldn’t seem to part from you, and neither could you. He’d hold your hand, or you’d rest your hand on his knee while driving home; even when he got out of the car to get the door for you, he glued his hand to yours again, helping you upstairs to your little apartment.

Normally, after a date, you’d both say your goodnights and get ready for bed, but tonight was different. Once you set the keys down on your little coffee table, he just stood in the living room staring at you, almost like he wanted to say something or do something. The feeling was very much mutual as you walked closer and closer to him, placing your hands on his waist; when he leaned in, that was the only sign you needed to close the distance between the both of you as you captured his lips in a soft kiss. 

He hummed softly, his hands mimicking yours, encircling your waist. After a few seconds, you’d both separate, but this time, the kiss lasted a bit longer than all the previous pecks you had given each other. 

The more you took his breath away, the needier the kiss became. He dragged you closer, pressing your body flush against his. His tongue, messily searching for an opening to push between your lips that were closed but soon opened up for him.

Your teeth clash in the beginning, and the kiss is a bit messy and uncoordinated until you both get the hang of it.

Needless to say, you’re both just as inexperienced as each other. You were too busy with school for boys, and heeseung, as sad as it is, didn’t even have a prospect of any intimacy, but he’s okay with that cause it was worth saving himself all for you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers on your lips, nails digging into your hips as he backs you up to the couch, and you sit down. He climbs on top of you, hands going to cup your cheeks. As he deepens the kiss, your head feels light, your body is warm to the touch, and you don’t know where this is going, but you don’t want it to stop.

He straddles your waist, practically sitting on your lip, his lower body grinding softly. He doesn’t notice this, but you do and place your hands on his hips, guiding his movements as you both kiss like your lives depend on it.

You slip your hands under his shirt, fingers tracing the warm flesh of his waist as he whimpers into your mouth. 

He pulls away for a nanosecond to take a breath before locking his lips together with yours again. “Y/n,” he moans when his bulge brushes against you.

You gasped into his mouth, the new and foreign feeling making your body alight with excitement. You trace your hand down to the front of his jeans. It’s almost automatic how you do it despite not having prior experience, but it just feels right. 

“O-oh,” he moans, pulling away from the kiss and breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening to his body.

“Sorry, was that too much?” he shakes his head no immediately.

“No, it just feels so,” he gulped, his eyes falling shut. “Overwhelming,” he laughs slightly, trying to pinpoint exactly what he’s feeling.

“Feels that way for me, too.” You bat your eyelashes, lips glossy and swollen from all the kissing.

“Yeah?” He smiles, nudging his forehead against yours before going in for another quick kiss, and this time, you slip your hand into the band of his pants, touching him over his underwear.

“F-uck” he trembles, body shuddering while you massage his length, and he can’t even kiss you properly anymore. “T-too much.” You take your head out of his pants, muttering another apology. “No, please don’t apologize. It felt so good,” he breathes out. “Too good,” he chuckles softly while stroking your cheek. “I just think that maybe we should wait,” he suggests, and that option sounds good to you cause you’re not sure if you could go all the way with him right now without feeling like your heart was going to explode.

“Yeah, let’s wait.” You cup his face and peck his lips.

“Okay.” there’s no denying that both of you are wet and throbbing with need, but the timing was everything, and you wanted your first time to be something that you both remember as the best time of your lives, not to say it wasn’t but in the needy state you both were in taking it slow might be for the best.

He pecks your lips one last time before climbing off of you. “But if it’s not too much to ask, could we maybe sleep together tonight?” he plays with your fingers, eyeing you while he awaits your answer..

“It’s not too much to ask,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to your bathroom so you can both get changed and clean up before bed. Besides, Mylo and Myla had overrun his room, so he didn’t have much choice. It was your bed or the couch, and you were definitely not letting him sleep alone on the couch.

☕️.

“You’re not the only one with a girlfriend.” heeseung was up early in the morning, far earlier than you. He had already taken both dogs out for a walk and made breakfast for you both. “Looks like we both got the girl after all,” he chuckled and poked Mylo on his stomach playfully as he rolled over and wagged his tail. “We made it, boy,” he whispers softly, lying down next to him on the floor. “No more sleeping bags, no more alleys, no more winters all gone,” he cheers, playing with Mylo's floppy ears. “And all the treats you could want.” he opens the bag of treats, feeding him a little more than he probably should, but he deserves it. “Our girls are beautiful, aren’t they?” He giggles. “Most perfect girls in the world.” The whole while he’s going on and on about you and Myla, you secretly watch him from the hallway, your heart feeling full of nothing but love as he plays with Mylo. 

“Morning, hee,” you greet him, and his head snaps in your direction. He jumps up from his spot, hugging you immediately.

“Morning, my love! Mwah,” he kisses your cheek, leading you straight to the kitchen where breakfast is all laid out. “I was waiting for you.” he pulls out a chair, beckoning for you to sit down in front of the many fruits and varieties of food he cooked all by himself.

He sits beside you, practically joined at the hip, but you don’t mind, you loved being close to him. “Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and he blushed. Gosh, he was so adorable.

“Try it!” He says anxiously with a smile, hoping that you liked what he prepared since he didn’t do a lot of cooking, but he tried really hard for you.

You excitedly try the first bite, and your eyes light up immediately. “Hmm, it’s delicious, hee!” You say, going back for another bite. He breathes a sigh of relief and picks up his fork to eat with you.

“Glad you like it, baby,” he kissed your cheek.

You were both eating in silence, enjoying the morning together, until you heard soft whimpering coming from under the table. You looked down to see Myla curling up around your feet. “Oh, my poor baby.” You reach under the table, patting her head softly.

“What’s wrong, girly?” Heeseung leaned down, taking in her state. She looked fine earlier. “Do you think?” You nod softly, already knowing what he’s getting at. “Hmm, should we take her to the vet?” 

“I guess” You leaned up, resting your head on heeseung’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, it’s mylos fault.” heeseung glared over at him, who was peacefully lying down in the living room still.

“Heeseung, it’s fine,” you giggle. “She’ll be fine” 

“Yeah, she will,” he agrees as you both continue with breakfast.

An hour later, heeseung cleaned up the kitchen while you took a shower before work. Mylo was now sleeping next to Myla in their twin bed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you pouted. Heeseung had the day off, but unfortunately, you didn’t, meaning you’d have to be away from him for eight whole hours for the first time.

“Me too, but at least I’ll be able to check on Myla.” he stood up from the couch, back hugging you. “Be safe, okay? And call me on break if you get the chance.” he kissed your neck softly, and you melted into his arms. “Gonna miss you so much, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his hands along your curves. “Think about me, yeah? I’ll for sure be thinking of you.” You’re not sure if he was aware of the way he was making your body feel so early in the morning, but you assume not when you turn around and you’re met with the most innocent smile ever.

“I will, I promise.” his face lights up, and he leans in for a kiss before sitting back down on the couch.

“Bye!” He waved cutely, and you ran back over to the couch, kissing him again before leaving. 

“Bye,” he giggles, chasing your lips again, and if you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.

☕️.

“It’s just you and me, babies.” heeseung had been laid out on the couch for the first two hours while you were gone. He’d check the time every minute and sigh when the time wasn’t going by any faster. He definitely needed a distraction; otherwise, he’d be lying down all day until you got home.

He thought of things he could do, but nothing seemed of any interest if it didn’t involve you, but then it clicked: there was one thing he could do.

He left the couch, going to take a quick shower and then prepping Myla for a trip to the vet. He figured since he was home, he might as well; the sooner she gets checked up on, the better. 

There was a vet not far from your house he remembers cause he used to pass by there every single night without fail. Luckily, it was in decent walking distance. 

Once he arrived, it took at least half an hour for him to get seen, but it was well worth the wait; besides, he was free all day anyway.

“Myla?” One of the workers called, and heeseung quickly jumped to his feet as they guided him to the back. First, they checked her weight and then put her on the table where they’d be doing her check-up. Heeseung listened to everything intently, making sure to take notes of everything she should be eating, and he nearly cried when she got her blood drawn, but other than that, everything went well. She was a healthy and very pregnant dog. He also bought her a different kind of food, one that had everything she needed, and with that, he was on his way back home.

Except where you worked, which was only a few minutes away. “You wanna go say hi to mommy?” He rubbed her chin softly. 

He made the short walk to the cafe, smiling brightly when he saw you behind the counter taking orders.

You were running around like a chicken with your head cut off, and the moment you heard the bell ring, your head snapped up in the direction, and you smiled, the tension in your shoulders deflating the moment you saw heeseung standing at the door.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon calls, and he nearly rolls his eyes when he sees who’s in the direction you’re looking in. “Alright, if you’re gonna stand there and be useless, you might as well take a break,” he jokes, and you turn to him, pushing him by his shoulder. 

“Can I really take a break?” Your eyes gleamed at Sunghoon, and of course, he couldn’t say no to you, not only you but also your boyfriend, who was giving him puppy eyes from across the cafe.

“Yes, but you’re paying for my lunch.” he pushes you out of the way and takes on the register.

“I’ll pay for your lunches for the rest of your life. Thank you, hoon, I owe you so much.” you slip off your apron and go outside with heeseung, sitting on the outdoor chairs. 

“Hi, baby,” he smiles shyly. “I was in the area, so I just thought I’d drop by.” 

“That’s so sweet, and I see you have company.” You cupped Myla's face in your hands.

“Yeah, I had so much free time. I took her in today. Every single second without you feels like hours,” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, hee, only five more hours. What did they say? Is she okay?” You said, slightly worried.

“No worries, she’s fine. We just have to keep a close eye on her and make sure she gets everything she needs,” he quickly assures you.

“Can’t believe it’s almost time for her to have her babies.” You looked down at her, and her belly was really round.

“I know.” he smiles fondly at you both. “I also can’t believe your break is almost up,” he pouts.

“Hee…” you held his hand across the table, your break wasn’t almost over but you supposed thirteen minutes to him probably felt like thirteen seconds, which admittedly it felt like that for you too.

“I know, I know, it’s just I've never really been away from you this long since we kissed, and it’s harder than I thought,” he speaks his mind.

“Yeah, it is pretty hard. I keep accidentally calling Sunghoon by your name, and he’s so over it,” you giggled, causing heeseung to let out a chuckle of his own.

Once his laughter fades out, he stares at you, appreciating every last moment he spends with you. “I love you.” he holds the back of your hands to his lips, eyes falling shut as he presses soft kisses to them.

“I love you too.” Just as his lips parted from your skin, the timer you had set went off. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” You stood up, petting Myla on the head before you went back to work. “See you soon babies.”

Heeseung stood up with you, sending you off with one last hug and kiss.

After you enter the building, he sighs, a bittersweet smile on his face as you turn around and wave to him one last time.

On his way home, he thinks that being without you would definitely take him some time to get used to.

☕️.

You were on your way home, the smile never leaving your face. The closer and closer you got, you took the bus this time so you could get there even quicker.

Heeseung and both the dogs perked up as the sound of keys jingling outside the door caught all their attention. “Mommy’s home!” heeseung rushed to the door. You could barely even see inside your apartment before he engulfed you in a hug. “Thank god you’re home,” he sighs into your hair, missing your scent.

You melt in his arms immediately, all the stress from today leaving your body the instant you feel his welcoming embrace. “Missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“So did we,” he parts from you, letting the dogs greet you as you enter and get undressed. “I made dinner for you.” he guided you to the kitchen where the table was set. There were a few candles lit and a vase of flowers right in the middle.

“Hee, you didn’t have to.” you looked up at the set up. It was so amazing. It looked like you were at a restaurant. You never experienced anything like this before, and it was going to make you cry.

“Why? You don’t like? I can change the-" You turn to him, hands wrapping around his shoulders before he can finish whatever his sentence was.

“I don’t just like it. I love it hee; I love you so much.” You kissed him deeply, pressing your lips on his as you stroked his cheek.

“I love you too, y/n,” he whispers as you both separate from each other.

He took out a chair for you to sit on and pulled out his own to be right next to you, just like he did in the morning.

He cut into the steak he cooked, feeding you the first piece. “How’s that taste?” He hopes it tastes good, considering what it took for him to make it.

“It’s amazing, just like you.” You pecked his lips, and with that, you both ate, and he asked you to tell him all about your day. He could listen to you talk for hours.

And he did.

He talked to you throughout dinner and dessert, even while he was prepared a bath for you.

He was currently in the living room waiting for you to come out. The kitchen was already cleaned, and all that was left to do was to patiently wait for you so you both could go to sleep together.

Which wasn’t any longer than fifteen more minutes. “Hi,” you smiled and plopped down next to him on the couch, cuddling up to his side.

“Hi,” he slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Ready for bed?” He asked, stroking your back.

“Hmm, aren’t you showering too?” You asked curiously.

“I took one a little while before you came home,” he pressed in the face in your neck, placing a few gentle kisses there.

“No wonder you smell so good,” you chuckled, his kisses tickling your neck.

“You smell better,” he whispers in your ear, kissing just beneath the lobe, sending a shiver up your spine.

He grabbed your thigh, hoisting you into his lap, his lips never leaving your skin. “Hee,” you moan the moment you feel his tongue running along your skin.

He doesn’t even know what came over him, but he missed you so much today that he needed to feel you everywhere, every square inch he needed to memorize, so next time he was without you, he could imagine you in full detail.

You smelled so good, your skin so warm on his body, and the way you made sounds that he only ever heard come from your lips was all it took to set him off.

His hands were timidly resting on your waist as you moved your head so you could kiss his lips instead. 

The same scenario from a few nights ago, was now unfolding again on the couch. This time, the position was a little different, but the same want and need was there.

You unknowingly started to grind your hips, your core in direct contact with the bulge in his sweats. “Y/n,” he whimpers, his head falling back against the couch as you litter his pretty neck and Adam’s apple in countless kisses.

The grip on your waist was firm, his fingertips needily digging into your skin as he began guiding your movements, pressing you down flush on his growing crotch.

“Hee,” his name mindlessly slips from your tingling lips as you lose yourself and succumb to an undiscovered yet enticing pleasure.

“You feel so good, Angel,” he groans softly. His hips evidently had a mind of theirs as he bucked them up into you, softly grinding against your heat.

“Ahh,” you mewl and hide your face in his chest. You’ve never once made a sound like that before, and you were slightly self-conscious until you heard him let out one quite similar to yours. 

His hands slid up your shirt, cautiously roaming your skin and being drawn to your soft breasts almost on instinct. 

The tank top he was wearing gave you access to kiss and bite at his shoulder as you rubbed yourself on him desperately.

“Seungie.” Hearing you whimpering yet another nickname that you made for him sent his mind into overdrive, the length in his pants growing harder every second.

He rolled your nipples between his fingers, giving you a different kind of pleasure. “I’m here, baby,” he cried out, the heat growing hotter and your breaths getting heavier the longer you rut against each other.

You ran your fingers through his hair desperate to feel his lips on yours once more. You lifted your head off his shoulder to find his soft pink lips. 

The pace of your movements grew more rapid, and almost instantly, you both knew you wouldn’t be able to stop now, too lost in the feeling of each other's bodies. “Yes,” he hissed against your lips, meeting each of your thrusts in perfect sync.

You both pulled away, staring into each other's eyes, panting. Your hair was messy, and you were both out of breath, but your lower bodies never ceased movement until, in the corner of heeseung's eye, he noticed Mylo and Myla sleeping in their dog bed.

You leaned in for another kiss, but he quickly pointed to them. “Oops,” you giggled silently, and heeseung hoisted your legs securely around his waist, his hands on your bottom as he carried you to your bedroom, making sure to shut the door.

The air was still very much tense despite the minor pause. The bulge in his sweats was evident, as well as the wet patch on the crotch of them.

He followed your line of vision, blushing at how wet his pants were due to both your combined arousal. “Sorry,” you whisper awkwardly.

“Don’t be.” he closes the distance, kissing away the awkwardness. Your hand gripped the hem of his black tank top, tugging it upward. “Take it off, baby.” You do just that, and slip it over his head.

It wasn’t the first time you saw him like this, but given the setting you initially saw him shirtless in, thoughts of attraction were the last thing on your mind, but now.

Now, it was so different. Your hands were glued to his body, roaming his soft, freshly washed skin. Everything about him was absolutely perfect.

He blushed as he felt your small, dainty fingers touching him everywhere. “Your turn?” He tilts his head, waiting for your answer, and you nod your head, struggling to pull your hands away from him long enough for him to take your sleep shirt off.

“Yes,” you mutter quietly and his breath hitches in his throat. Just the idea of seeing you topless admittedly made him twitch in his sweats.

Button by button, one by one, he opened your shirt, revealing the most perfect beauty he’d ever laid his eyes on.

You, in your full beauty, no clothing in the way to block the magnificent sight before him.

He gulps, sliding the material off your shoulders, his eyes blown wide as they scan every inch of you. 

Cupping both his hands over your chest, he groans at the softness of your breasts, and you whimper quietly in his mouth as he bends down to kiss you.

One of your hands was back in its rightful place, his left pec, while the other massaged over the tent in his sweatpants.

He moans continuously in your mouth, bucking his hips into your hand over and over again until he feels that he needs your touch skin on skin.

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Something wrong?” You breathe against his lips.

“Mm-mm, just,” he mumbles back, guiding your hand inside his underwear so he can feel you touching his flesh. “Perfect.” he whispers and cups your cheek, his other hand still pleasuring your right breast as he deepens the kiss.

Your hand shyly runs along his length. He’s so warm, pulsing to the touch, and the glide of your hand feels so slick as you work him from tip to base.

Your nails rake down his chest, gripping the band of his sweats to pull them down.

He quickly helps you slip them down, kicking them off the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but the boxers you had bought him, but he isn’t half as shy for you to see them as he was in the supermarket. If anything, he wanted you to see and not just the boxers but everything that hid underneath them.

“My turn?” You ask with a giggle, and just like you, he nods, smiling.

“Your turn” he hooks his thumbs inside your shorts, slipping them down your beautiful legs.

He gasped when he was met with your bare body. He wasn’t expecting you to be nude under those shorts, and for a split second, he was just staring at your core glistening in the moonlit bedroom, and you just kept getting more and more beautiful by the second.

“You like what you see?” You say playfully, knocking him out of his daze as he frantically nods his head. 

“So much, you’re so perfect,” the words came out of his mouth in one long drawn-out moan, flustering you to a point you thought was impossible after he had seen undressed. “I need you.” he drew your body as close to his as possible and kissed you while his hands mapped out your body.

“Then have me. I’m all yours.” he guided your hands to the waistband of his boxers, motioning that it was okay for you to take them off. 

Your hands were slightly shaking with nerves and excitement as you peeled down the waistband, revealing all of him and he was

Beautiful.

“Like what you see?” He raises his brow, teasing you the same way you did to him, and somehow, the moment was both equally playful as it was sensual.

You’re so glad you both waited cause right now, everything was perfect, and before it even ended, you knew it was going to be something you’d remember for a lifetime. “You're beautiful, hee.” You kissed his chest, taking in everything. Nothing about him was flawed. Everything was perfect, even the little mole on his ear.

He hid his face in your shoulder and hugged you, strumming the length of your back with his soft fingers as you did the same. “Love you,” he pecks the top of your head.

“I love you too.” Without another word spoken, he took you to the bed, laying you flat and getting under the covers with you resting between your legs in the space you made for him.

He stroked your cheek, his eyes scanning every breathtaking feature on your face.

Your hands wrapped around his torso, pulling him into you as you shared another kiss.

He grunted softly at the contact of your lower bodies rubbing together. The feeling was so intense that it made his heart race in his chest.

You gasped, feeling him firmly pressing himself between your legs, thrusting his hips continuously as his length slipped through your glossy folds.

Only seconds after he climbed on top of you, you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to become one with the man you so deeply loved. “Hee, will you be my first?” 

He leans back, his eyes blinking open slowly as his movements come to a stop. “Yes, I will,” he whispers, eyes full of nothing but pure genuine love. “With great honor,” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. 

“And y/n, will you be mine as well?” His eyes search yours, waiting for what he knows will be a yes answer.

“Yes!” You answer so enthusiastically that it makes him giggle, and he loves you so much that it almost makes him cry.

With one last kiss of approval, you hook your legs around his waist as he rests his arms beside you and angles himself to be perfectly aligned with you.

He pushes his hips forward, slowly sinking into your welcoming warmth, and he sighs in contentment as he feels you opening up just for him. “Y/n,” A gentle moan sneaks past his lips as he slips inside of you with ease with the help of your body's natural lubricants.

“Oh, hee.” You circle his shoulders, your mouth parting open and letting out the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard.

He feels so good. The warmth of your body, the way you hugged him in all the right places, and the nonstop calls of his name let him know you were feeling just as good as he did.

And you absolutely were. You felt so full in your heart, your mind, and your body. He held you so close as he made you one with him.

With every thrust, you professed your love for each other, whether that be with words, loving touches, or sounds of pleasure; you were both so in tune with one another that even at the height of pleasure, you were side by side on the edge of experiencing the greatest euphoria of all.

“You feel so amazing, Seung.” he locked his lips with yours, sealing your words off with a kiss.

“You do too, my angel, my sweet angel.” he twitched within your walls with each of his thrust. The motion was smooth, making it all the more pleasurable as your fluids mixed together and made the sweetest sounds between your conjoined bodies.

Your silky walls fluttered around his throbbing girth, tightening even more with each second that passed.

Both your moans increased in pitch, your breaths becoming erratic, as well as his movements and the constant rubbing of his abdomen against your sensitive nub brought you and him to the brink of bliss. The squeezing of your core sucking him in made him feel lightheaded as he went in and out. The sensation sending both of you the end as you covered one another in the essence of love. “I love you, y/n,” he confessed to you through a messy kiss.

“I love you, heeseung.” The number of times you both shared I love you’s was endless as the pleasure raced through every fiber of your bodies. He thrusts slowly, bringing you both down from cloud 9.

Your bodies were covered in sweat; you could barely breathe. There was a string of saliva connecting you both together, and the amount of sheer love you both felt in the moment was unlike anything either of you have ever experienced. It brought tears to both of your eyes.

He stayed still, hugging your tired body in his strong arms, never ever wanting to let you go.

You both stayed like that for a while, just sharing each other's breath and feeling your heartbeats sync and become one with the other.

He rested on his elbows, looking into your eyes and gripping your hands, clasping them with his cause. No matter what, he still just couldn’t get close enough to you, but when you kissed him, he felt complete. Every part of him was touching you, and every part of you was touching him. “Thank you for being my first, hee,” you speak up first, whispering softly to him in the vulnerable state you were both in. “It was everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

“You’re welcome. I’m so happy I can be that for you. Thank you for letting me be your first, and thank you for being my first,” he rested his forehead on yours, nudging you softly.

“You’re welcome.” The sincerity of your voice makes him melt, and he thinks after this, somehow, he loves you even more. “I love you, coffee,” you smile, stroking the back of his hand with your intertwined fingers.

“I love you, cream.”

F I N

Tap coffee for a surprise ☕️

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[xshadowdelta]

DESFILABA EN MILÁN

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader (6K Length)

Being the son of the president and owner of one of the most famous multinational companies in the entire world had an infinite number of advantages, but one stood out above the rest. The economic power you wielded was practically inexhaustible, which led you to a life of luxuries and whims, since you won the race against the rest of the sperm.

Living in a mansion, having a driver and bodyguard, attending private schools, and one of the best universities in the world, having a huge guaranteed job, and rubbing shoulders with some of the most important people on the planet. Although the latter was sometimes more of a drawback than an advantage, depending on how tedious the matter at hand was.

And that was what had brought you here, to Milan, Italy, in what was known as Milan Fashion Week, a show whose date was marked on the calendar of everyone who was interested in this whole panorama.

It's not that it was your first time attending an event of this caliber, but it was your first time dealing with something related to fashion, a topic that you hardly knew anything about and that didn't interest you too much, to be honest.

Why were you here then? Simple, because of one of your father's contacts. The world of business was not simply about making money with your company, offering a quality product, managing your employees and going home to sleep every night, no, it went much further.

Everyone should start from the bottom, and once you have managed to reach the top, the difficulty lies in staying up there, which is something that experts always say. And to achieve this objective, alliances are needed, partners if you prefer, in order to build a powerful and, at the same time, faithful network of contacts.

One of the most powerful designers at the show belonged to your father's network of contacts, and therefore also to yours and your company's. Attending this parade was nothing more than a business commitment to strengthen the relationship between you two.

However, the CEO of the company, that is, your father, was closing a deal with a new investor in the USA, and his busy schedule prevented him from traveling to Europe precisely at that time. And there is where you came in, your position as heir, your father's current right-hand man, and future president meant that these tasks fell on you.

You had to admit that you were a little nervous. The crowd of celebrities didn't surprise you, you had been to places like this before, but the fashion world used to bring together a lot of, no offense, snobs.

Since your childhood, you have dealt with thousands of these types of people. You were seasoned in a thousand battles against posh children of rich parents who believe they are the center of the universe, just because the guy they called dad once fucked their mother without wearing a condom in a gas station bathroom, and he ended up having success with some banal bullshit. Luckily, you hadn't turned out that stupid.

You witnessed the parade from the guest area between a young actor who was beginning to emerge in Hollywood and a Formula 1 driver. Experiencing this type of event from the inside perhaps would eliminate your prejudices and change your way of seeing them, nothing could be further from reality.

You still couldn't understand how there were people willing to not only wear such extravagant outfits and clothing, but also pay for them, a negligible sum of money for you, obviously, but it wasn't for 99% of the population.

Hours passed and the moon, along with a blanket of stars, beautifully illuminated the sky of the city, in accordance with the end of the event and the subsequent celebration, one of those famous after-parties that the great figures used to chat, get to know each other, and, of course, do some business.

However, that night, it wasn’t among your tasks to sign any new contracts with anyone there. Luckily for you, your father was lenient in this matter. Attending the event, interacting a little bit with acquaintances, and having the freedom to leave after completing said mission.

“I can’t believe my eyes. Look who is here, it's my good friend's little boy!” You caught a glimpse of a quirky guy, approaching you with his arms open.

There was the culprit of this little trip through the Italian country, your father's old partner, a man with long gray hair, about 60 years old, extremely thin and whose body was surrounded by who knows how many animal skins are in danger of extinction.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, sir.” You lied as he hugged you, patting your back. “I thank you for the invitation on behalf of my father, I am sure he would have loved to be able to attend.”

“Ah, that old father of yours, he continues to work too much, it's time for you to take over.”

“It is difficult, sir, we also want him to rest, but you know how stubborn he is.” At that moment, one of the waiters approached you with a tray full of champagne glasses, which you both took.

You continued talking for a while, mostly about your impressions of the show and the work you were involved in lately, taking advantage of the moment to introduce you to other designers and moguls and even some of the models who had paraded on the scenario.

“The last time I saw you, what were you, 16 years old? But look at you now, you are already a man, and you will carry on your shoulders the weight of a huge brand, it is a weight that is not inconsiderable at all. Have you not thought about having a good woman to help you?”

“I think I'm still young for that, sir, but it's certainly something I haven't considered at the moment.”

“There are countless women here and each one stands out in something: power, beauty, intelligence…I could introduce you to whoever you wanted.”

You were beginning to feel uncomfortable because of the direction the conversation was taking. Although it is true that your father gave you freedom on that topic, from time to time he had dropped a comment about it. Without a girlfriend and a large fortune, you were a good catch, of course, but also the perfect target for fortune hunters. However, that didn't stop you from having fun sometimes.

You scanned the place with your gaze, doing a quick sweep of the people that came into your visual range. You then stopped at a girl who stood out above the rest in your perception.

She had Asian features, a bright dark hair and was wearing a very elegant black dress that was tight to her body. Her face was simply beautiful, somewhat pale, but certainly beautiful, as if she were the human representation of a goddess, and her body had perfect proportions, highlighted perfectly by that small dress. She was chatting cheerfully with one of the models at the show, and her smile left you speechless.

The old man next to you also observed the girl since your gaze had been lost in her, and they didn’t have a plan to return to their initial position. He gave you a playful smile and placed a hand on your shoulder. That touch was enough to make you come back to earth.

“Be careful, kid, you know what they say, the devil wears Prada.”

The designer left you there confused with those words while he went to greet another of his guests, but your eyes were still focused on that young girl. You took a long drink of your champagne, finishing it instantly and leaving the glass on one of the nearby tables to begin walking determinedly in the direction of the girl.

Sadly for you, a third person blocked your way by putting an arm around your shoulders. You tried to free yourself from that grip until you realized who it was, one of your old university classmates, the son of a great businessman in the automotive world.

He spoke to you animatedly for a few minutes in which you didn’t pay him a single second of attention while your eyes tried not to lose sight of the figure of that girl, now hidden behind the body of your friend.

You wanted to interrupt him and say something, but you also didn't want to be disrespectful. That was your mistake, was what you thought when he dragged you from there to introduce you to another group of people while you watched how you were moving away from your goal.

Suddenly you found yourself caught up in a loop that lasted about a couple of hours, about meeting new personalities, stupid conversations about business that you would have participated in another time, but not right now when your head was in somewhere else.

You managed to get out of that group with the typical excuse of having to use the bathroom, and you dove into another amount of people trying to escape. You walked through the huge room where the party was taking place while your eyes moved restlessly from side to side.

After a few long minutes, your search was unsuccessful, and you sighed in defeat, thinking that perhaps that girl had already left the party. Your left hand grabbed a strand of hair from your bangs, twisting it angrily, while your right hand held the elbow of your other hand. If you had been alone, you would have let out a frustration yell.

It was then when you noticed how a hand gently touched your back, making you turn on your feet, coming face to face with the owner of your thoughts. You relaxed the expression on your face that could not hide its surprise at seeing her standing there looking at you with a smile, as if a halo of light illuminated only her, dazzling.

“I've been waiting for you all night.” She said this, making a small pout with her mouth. That completely unnerved you. The unknown girl made the first contact. Was she waiting for you?

"How is…"

“I noticed how you looked at me.” Shit, you had been so freaking obvious. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, thereby increasing the volume of her giggle.

“Yoo Jimin, but you can call me Karina.” She offered one of her hands to you, you shook it in greeting, indicating your name back.

Both of you started talking at that moment. You learned that she came from South Korea and that she was dedicated to music and entertainment, specifically being a K-pop idol in a group known as Aespa along with three other girls. You knew little about the subject, but if she was part of it, it was definitely something interesting to investigate in the future.

She told you that she assisted this event as an ambassador for the Prada brand, you smiled then remembering the old man's words, but you still had to decipher the second part.

“And will you stay for a long time in Italy?” You asked.

You were supposed to fly back home tomorrow, but your private plane could wait as long as necessary.

“Oh, well, the truth is that tomorrow I'm going back to Seoul.” It made you sad to know that, and it seems that she noticed it because she got a little closer to you to whisper something in your ear.

“But that doesn't stop us to make this night indelible.” The sensual tone of her voice combined with her perverted smile gave you the clue you needed, there was the devil.

The journey from the place of celebration to the place where you were staying seemed eternal. During the trip, you couldn't help but ogle Karina, you were so obvious that she could only laugh and say “cute”.

You gave her way to your suite, walking around it in amazement, as if she hadn't been in hundreds like that before. On one of the occasions when she turned around and faced you, you grabbed her hips, pulling her towards your body to kiss her passionately, something she responded immediately with the same intensity.

“You don't waste time, I like it.” She said playfully, giving you another kiss.

“It's not like I have much.” You replied by lowering your hands to her butt, massaging it a bit, making her sigh against your lips.

“We have the whole night, tiger, we are going to have a great time.” She commented, letting out a moan when she felt your lips attacking her neck. You gave her buttocks a squeeze, appreciating that you agreed with her statement.

You grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up pulling it over her head and leaving her in just underwear, and her hand quickly went to the bulge in your crotch caressing it over your pants.

“God, it looks so big, I can't wait to have it in my mouth.” A shiver ran through your body, forcing you to undress as fast as you were allowed, making Karina laugh loudly.

Now with both of you covered only by your underwear, her hands traveled to your chest, caressing it as she reached up to kiss your lips again. In response, your hands distributed slow and gentle caresses along her bare back, taking advantage of the situation to unhook her lace bra. Your torsos were separated enough for the garment to fall to the floor due to gravity.

She took your hand and led you to the bed, where you took her by the waist, causing you both to fall gently lying on the bed, with her under you, still enjoying your kisses.

One of your hands went up her body to her voluptuous breasts, grabbing and kneading one of them at the same time as your tongues surrounded each other inside your mouths.

You moved away from her lips, eager to taste her tits, introducing one into your mouth, savoring it for a long time while your hand caressed her other mound, even going so far as to lightly pinch her nipple.

“Beautiful…” You whispered, offering the same treatment to her other boob.

“Are you saying it to me or my tits?” She asked, pressing your head against her breasts even more.

"Both." She smiled at your answer and shifted on the bed, moving freely, walking on four over the sheets, watching you with a feline gaze that made you rev ​​up the speed.

She completely surrounded your body, being you now the one lying face up on the bed, opening your legs to allowing her to stand in the middle. She lay on top of you, with her face pressed against your crotch, raising her butt giving you an unbeatable view.

She stuck out her tongue to lick the huge bulge that was pushing the fabric of your boxers toward the ceiling, threatening to tear it if it wasn't quickly released. She continued kissing your abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses gradually rising to your chest at the same time that her hands were playing with your member, still inside its lair.

She was playing with you, it was obvious, and you needed her as soon as possible, impatient and anxious, but you refused to show weakness, if Karina wanted to play this game then you would both play.

She went back down to your bulge, there was a part of your gray boxers that had turned into a darker color as some drops of pre-cum had escaped from your tip as a result of Karina's constant teasing. Realizing this she smiled widely with malice knowing that she had won this first round.

She bit with her teeth the elastic of your boxers, pulling them down, lowering them until your hard and throbbing penis was finally free. Karina looked at your naked cock in amazement, bringing her face closer, beginning to spread small kisses along your length.

She rested her elbow on your thigh, measuring your penis with the length of her arm. “Holy fuck, it's so much bigger than I thought. I have never faced one like this” She admitted without stopping kissing it, sticking out her tongue to lick the entire surface, making it wet.

“Come on, I'm sure you could have any boy you wanted…” “You’re not wrong, that's why I have you.” She responded, winking at you.

Meanwhile, your brain was beginning to malfunction due to the pleasure that her lips and tongue were giving you down there. “In that case, be careful and don’t choke yourself.”

Your comment was clearly a joke, but Karina, who was now moving her closed hand around your penis up and down masturbating you, stared at you with a planning in her head.

“There is nothing I want more right now than to choke on this damn cock.” She said in a very hot tone increasing the pace of the handjob making you moan louder.

You swallowed, getting even more excited. You had been with other women before, but Karina gave you an unknown vibe until this moment. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and she was aware of it, and there is no animal more feared by men than a confident and self-assured woman.

A spit came out of the woman's mouth directly onto your cock, which was already completely wet and the movement of the female hand on it was beginning to cause watery sounds.

“I can't wait any longer.” Karina whispered to herself, leaning over your cock, surrounding your tip with her lips and putting as much as she could into her mouth.

She stayed like that for a few seconds adjusting to the size of your penis and proceeded to lower her head a little more until she managed to put the entirety of your dick in her mouth.

You clung tightly to the sheets when shocks of pleasure ran through your body as you noticed how you reached her throat in one go. “God, Karina, you're crazy.”

She would have answered you if her nose wasn't brushing against your lower abdomen at that moment. She was too busy cupping her cheeks to grant you as much pleasure as possible inside her mouth.

After a few seconds of holding her breath she released your member, completely covered in saliva now. Karina coughed a few times but quickly went back to engulfing your cock.

You could see how Karina's head went up and down on your cock in a frantic manner, driving you crazy. Your member did not stop throbbing in the intimacy of her mouth and several strings of saliva were coming out of the girl's mouth meanwhile she was sucking you, starting to make a mess on your lower zone.

You had enough time as spectator and decided to join the action by taking Karina's head in your hands, helping her swallow your cock deep in her throat, causing her to dig her nails into your thighs. You held her hair in one of your fists while she continued to sink again and again on your crotch without any type of modesty.

You removed your hands, and she got separated from you, breathing heavily, but instead of leaning back and walking away, she buried her head between your balls to lick and suck on them, taking them into her mouth.

Karina continued giving love to your balls while now her both hands were masturbating your long member at high speed with enveloping movements, twisting your penis with pleasure.

She switched from your balls to your cock again, sucking you harder than before, swallowing your penis as much as she could and moving her head more desperately, producing erotic sounds from the depths of her throat. 

She let out a large stream of saliva from her mouth against the lower part of your abdomen and your thighs, kneeling on the bed and taking her own tits in her hands, making them swing before your attentive gaze, some of the saliva falling on her breasts.

You sat up a little until you reached her and grabbed her breasts, with a movement of your hips you introduced your penis between them, bouncing your hips and masturbating yourself by using her tits.

This surprised her at first, but she quickly changed her expression to a one much more lustful, staring at you, biting her lower lip, and watching as you enjoyed the massage between her breasts.

Your cock covered on saliva was leaving her tits all sticky and messy, but favoring the sliding of your penis between them.

“Please don't cum yet, I need so much more from you.” Karina moaned, squeezing the sides of her breasts with her knuckles, thus imprisoning your cock, which made you moan.

You lowered your head to kiss her lips, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, starting to move your hips faster. In response, she stuck her tongue out to lick and caress the tip of your cock each time you passed through her breasts.

She held her tits tightly and moved them without mercy or compassion, now they were no longer two huge pieces of meat that shook roughly on your manhood as if they meant nothing more than that, with the only mission of offering you pleasure. “FUCK Karina! Stop or I’m going to explode!” You screamed in ecstasy of lust, doing your best to retain the liquid that was pooling at your tip and threatening to overflow.

She didn't let go of you immediately, no, that would have been too compassionate of her, she slowly reduced the pace making the last caresses feel excitingly deadly. Even so, the damage done to you was remarkable, because the tip of your penis covered in a whitish color was irrefutable proof. With a playful smile Karina bent down to lick your tip and with it those small drops of semen that were peeking out, licking her lips noticeably.

“It tastes so delicious, I can't wait to get the full load.”

You had managed to stabilize your breathing and your emotion just when she threw herself at you again, kissing your lips like a beast and your hands explored each other's body with total freedom, directing one of your hands to her panties to which she began to curve her body rubbing her crotch against your hand.

“I'm so wet.” She made a fake moan, trying to provoke you. “I'm pretty sure you could sink that whole cock into my pussy so easily right now.” Her eyes, her mouth and her entire body were breathing fire, and you weren't afraid of getting burned.

“And what are you supposed to be waiting for?” You played along, murmuring close to her ear as you pulled down her panties and she kicked in the air until she sent them flying away from the bed. “Help yourself.” You gave her another effusive kiss while holding your hard, erect member, offering her a clear sign.

Karina then sat on you, a few inches from your penis, in fact, it was now held upwards, resting on the girl's stomach, and you couldn't have a better view of her at that moment.

She licked the palm of her hand, then running it over your tip, rubbing it insistently in circular motions. One of your eyes closed trying to resist, you were trying to avoid having to beg her at all costs. You were lucky that she was madly horny and couldn't stay playing with you much longer.

She rose just enough to be able to insert the tip of your penis into the entrance to her pussy, slowly descending, allowing you full access to her interior in one go.

A long sigh left her mouth once her butt made contact with your thighs, staying still for a few seconds staring at the ceiling with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Your hands caressed her thighs, going up to her hips and abdomen, leaving one of your hands lightly pressed against her stomach.

She looked down to make direct eye contact with you while still smiling. Her hands handled yours on her stomach, moving it gently over it.

“I can feel you perfectly…you're so fucking big inside me.” She moaned, beginning to rock back and forth in small movements, without breaking your skin-to-skin contact.

Each time the distance was greater, leaning back and returning forward until it collided with the palm of your hand, a sensation so wonderful that you couldn't describe it in words.

“You're so tight, I could cum at any moment.”

At that moment, Karina's hips began to rise and fall on your cock, riding you and giving you the vision of how your cock entered and left her pussy, each time more abruptly.

“Sorry darling, I would love to have a creampie from you, but sadly today it will be impossible.” She said between moans as she continued bouncing over your dick.

You had to be careful then, you thought internally, letting yourself be carried away more and more by the pleasure, grabbing and squeezing Karina's tits in your hands that were bouncing in the air with ferocious movements.

She rode you harder and faster with each ride. Now placing her feet on the bed and squatting over you, your hands traveled to her ass, pushing yourself even further, making your cock enter even deeper inside her, stirring her insides and making her scream with pleasure.

She continued like this for a few more minutes until suddenly she opened her eyes and mouth wide, suppressing a moan, and made eye contact with you again, completely clouded by pleasure.

“I'm cumming.” She announced riding your cock now in a crazy way and as if those words had turned on a switch in you, you also responded, giving the best you had.

“Fuck yes, just like that make me cum please, please, please…” The way she begged you, her face twisted with pleasure, her body trembling on yours. If there was a paradise after death, it must be something like this.

“Shit shit shit shit!” She screamed, standing on the bed and making your penis come out of her pussy, rubbing her hand frantically against the folds of her pussy, letting out a powerful jet of fluids over the sheets and over part of your crotch and abdomen. You couldn't believe what you had just experienced, Karina had squirted directly on you.

She fell to her knees on the bed, exhausted, trembling, with her legs closed as well as her eyes, breathing heavily, trying to recover from that intense orgasm.

You approached her from behind, surrounding her body in a hug and placing a kiss on her shoulder. She turned to you, smiling with a tired expression.

“That was…”

“The hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.” You interrupted her. “We can rest if you need it.”

Karina glanced at you over her shoulder before leaning over the bed, resting her palms and knees on the sheets, bringing her butt closer to rub against your cock.

“You said it yourself before…we don't have much time.”

You automatically groped her buttocks, and in response, she moved her ass at a faster pace, as if it were a dance. You grabbed your cock and lined it up with her entrance, penetrating her again, making you both moan again.

Karina's twerking didn't stop, not even when your hands gripped her waist, turning your thrusts into much more carnal movements, and causing your own hips to crash hard against her ass every time you buried your cock deep inside her.

The movement of the girl's ass was simply hypnotic, it seemed that her entire body was a sensual spectacle, made by and for the enjoyment of the sexual act.

Her moans of pure pleasure and her desperate pleas asking you for more and more did nothing but heat up the atmosphere even more, and increase your body temperature along with your lust.

You raised one of your hands and let it fall on Karina's buttock in a loud spank to her ass. She let out a small squeal and turned her head to look at you, with lasciviousness in her eyes that you had never seen before.

“Use my body all you want, tonight I'm yours.”

Without a shred of self-control to stop you or make you think at all, you grabbed a handful of her hair in your hand, pulling it back, making her moan. Karina's body sat up until her back was pressed against your torso. With your other arm you totally surrounded her stomach while your hips did not reduce the pace of the thrusts.

One of her arms wrapped around your head as you began to kiss and lick her neck. Your hand let go of her hair and held one of her breasts tightly, pressing her closer to you to prevent her from falling forward but taking advantage of the moment to squeeze it between your fingers.

After a few minutes you released her from your grip, returning to the initial position, not lasting too long there as you immediately pressed one of your hands on her back, forcing her to lie completely face down on the bed.

Your hands tightly gripped the sheet on each side of her head, your thrusts were deeper, burying the entirety of your cock inside Karina, who for some time could not stop moaning uncontrollably.

She tried to silence her moans by biting the sheet, but you instantly leaned gently on her to bring your mouth to her ear and whisper.

“Don't even think about it.” You said, putting a hand on her neck and making her turn her head to remove the sheet from her mouth. “I want to hear you scream.” You whispered in her ear, giving her another spank on her ass.

Karina left that position and turned around on her back, opening her legs for you, while you looked at her with some confusion in your expression. You could see how some tears welled up in her eyes.

“Do you want me to scream?” With the help of her hands, she opened the folds of her pussy, showing you how it was completely wet and dripping. “Then fuck me properly!”

She did not show anger, but her voice and expression were completely authoritative. You smiled when you saw her in that state and bent down to reinsert your member into her pussy.

Despite all your attacks on her tonight, her pussy was still fucking tight, squeezing your hard cock to the point of satiety. That didn't stop you from continuing to pound into her as if it were the last thing you were going to do in this life.

You continued attacking her mercilessly, lowering your head to lick her breasts and then going up to kiss her lips, while your fingers pinched her nipples.

You grabbed the back of her neck as your cock ceaselessly disappeared inside her body, and she rolled her eyes due to the pleasure she was receiving.

“Fuck me please, fuck me please, FUCK ME!” She desperately demanded while you felt the walls of her pussy contract. 

You came out of her, replacing your cock with your fingers, rubbing her folds in the same way she had done some time ago, achieving the same result, another huge jet of fluids straight from her pussy.

You didn't give her time to rest this time, as you grabbed her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed, holding her body in your arms to lift her up and make her hug your body with you standing.

It seems that despite being tired, she anticipated your idea and surrounded your waist with her legs and your neck with her arms, also lifting her butt, allowing you to insert your penis into her more comfortably.

You grabbed her ass and started rocking her body upwards, making her bounce on your cock incredibly.  Your moans were silenced by your lips, devouring each other without mercy.

After a while you noticed how your legs were wobbly, your hands were clinging tightly to her butt and once again your penis seemed ready to unload everything you had inside.

“You're going to cum for me, right? I want your cum all over me” Karina smiled mockingly on your lips, caressing your hair and your cheeks, you could only nod your head.

“I need to make a mess in that pretty face you have.” She smiled widely.

You separated her from your body, being careful not to fall, and she quickly knelt in front of you, leaving her head at the height of your penis, which you were stroking violently while Karina waited for you on the floor, sticking out her tongue.

You finally released yourself and large streams of semen fell onto Karina's beautiful face, covering it almost entirely in a matter of seconds until you were completely empty.

“Fuck, you came so much.” Karina exclaimed, trying to clean the mess you had caused on her face with her hands, taking the opportunity to lick her fingers in the process.

On the other hand, you were exhausted, panting heavily trying to recover from the tremendous effort you had just made. Even so, you noticed some pressure on your member again, you looked down to discover Karina grabbing it with one hand.

“Let me help you.” She whispered, putting it back into her mouth and making movements with his tongue trying to collect as much of the fluid remains as possible, cleaning it.

“I'll be right back.” She said, standing up and walking past you towards the bathroom, earning a spank on her ass as a tip and turning to give you a satisfied smile before disappearing out the door.

You fell onto the bed, emitting a tired sigh, closing your eyes for a few moments, and seeking to rest your body. After a while you felt the bed move next to you, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side, seeing how Karina, also now lying next to you, was looking at you penetratingly.

She smiled at you and came close to your body. You put an arm around her shoulder, allowing her to lie on your chest, which she caressed with the palm of her hand. With your free hand, you lifted her chin towards your face to kiss her sweetly.

Karina circled your neck and settled into her position, making the kiss increasingly passionate and needy, to the point where she was practically lying on top of you again. You broke apart, panting and smiling at each other.

“Can't we stop the time?” You asked, making her giggle. She approached your lips again, this time kissing you very slowly.

“Thank you for tonight, I really needed something like that.” She let her head fall between the crook of your head and your shoulder, and you hugged her, pressing her body against yours.

“I guess it all ends here, right?” You asked, caressing her hair, and she turned to you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I'm sorry…but let's do this.” She said, getting out of bed and walking over to grab something from her bag, a cell phone, and walked back to you. “Give me your number, let's stay in touch, you know, in case we meet again.” She said, winking at you and handing you the device.

"I'd love to." A huge smile formed on your lips as you recorded your contact on Karina's agenda. Once you finished, she snatched the phone from you, throwing it somewhere nearby on the bed, and climbed on top of you, kissing you again desperately.

“There are still a couple of hours until my flight departure, I have to be at my hotel before my staff wakes up, or I will be in trouble.”

“It's more than enough for me.” You whispered before returning to devour each other with renewed energy, it seems that your dreamy night still had another chapter to be written.

[aurorawritestoescape]

HARDER THAN YOU THINK

Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,7k

Written together with @milla-frenchy

Summary: It’s your first day at work and you feel nervous. But what can go wrong if your boss is your dad’s best friend, a person you’ve known and trusted for years?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CON, Dbf!Joel, boss!Joel, dark!Joel, power imbalance, blackmail, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), oral (f), pussy slapping, use of a sex toy, degradation, unprotected piv, gangbang, creampies. Reader wears a skirt.

A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this story for @romanarose ‘s Dead Dove December. Thank you for this event, celebrating dark fic, Roman❤️ Milla, baby, it’s always a pleasure to write with you! ILYSM🫂💖

Heed the warnings! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. We are not responsible for the content you consume. This is not for everyone and that's okay. We don't condone the actions of the characters.

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Day one at your first job started horribly. You overslept, got in a traffic jam and arrived at the office panting and apologizing. Fortunately, your boss, Mr Miller, didn’t tell you off for your tardiness. Instead he greeted you with a wide, most charming smile. You’ve known him for a few years, him being your dad’s good friend and his employer as well as yours now.

Mr Miller was a successful businessman and your parents owed everything to his generosity and kindness. He helped your father out when your family was about to lose the house and your dad always talked highly of his ‘best bud’. You’ve been calling him Joel all these years, but wishing to show respect at the workplace, you decided to call him Mr Miller.

Now you’re attending a company meeting in a spacious conference room, taking bullet points of the discussion on your tablet. Mr Miller is sitting at the head of the desk, leaning comfortably in his chair, his thick thighs spread, piercing eyes narrowed. His perfectly tailored blue suit which probably costs more than your future year salary accentuates his broad powerful frame. Throwing glances at him from time to time, you can’t help but admire the way the fabric stretches over his arms and shoulders. You’ve never thought about Joel like that, he was much older than you, but it was hard to deny how handsome he was.

Joel is listening to an employee’s report, pouting his lips from time to time. Knowing him quite well, you read his face easily, so it’s evident to you that he’s not pleased with what she’s telling him. Joel’s always been nice and kind to you and your parents, but right now you feel like a volcano is about to erupt.

“Are you happy with all this, sweet cheeks?” He asks but doesn’t let the woman reply. "I’m definitely not. I hope I won't hear these numbers ever again. Or you're gonna lose your job in a heartbeat. I doubt your family will be happy with you getting fired. You just had a baby, right?”

The woman swallows loudly and nods.

“Get your shit together!” Joel barks and the employee looks terrified. You feel bad for her. You’ve never seen Joel be so mean before but that's probably part of the character trait that goes with his job.

When the meeting is over, some people leave but three men stay behind with Joel, still chatting to each other. You get up, ready to sneak out, but your boss stops you at the door, calling your name.

“Sorry, I thought the meeting’s over”, you explain, coming up to him with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, the main part’s done but we have something extra on our agenda today.”

Joel gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets. He takes something out of a drawer and puts it in the pocket of his suit pants. You raise your brows with a silent question and he turns his face to the managers,

“Gentlemen! Today is this young lady’s first day at our company and I’d like you to give her a warm welcome.”

You feel overwhelmed when all the attention is focused on you but, fearing to seem rude or disrespectful, you turn to the men and smile nervously, fumbling with your fingers. You wonder what Joel put in his pocket. You didn't expect to receive a gift on your first day, and you don’t know how to thank him properly.

The men hum approvingly but soon you feel uneasy noticing their eyes slide down your body and take you in with something more than simple curiosity. One of them smirks and your face falls. Fortunately, Joel steps up to you and his wide smile relaxes you a little. Knowing him for so long, you feel that he has your back. He takes your hand and holds it in his big warm palm.

“Sweetheart, we have a tradition in our company. We call it “Initiation”.

“W—What is it?” you mumble, smiling and blinking at him with confusion, while your stomach churns. You hope he won’t ask you to give a speech of some kind. You’d die of stage fright.

Joel explains, “Some of us gather here to celebrate our new employee and I’m happy that today it is you.“

Joel inches closer and you instinctively take a step back but he pulls you to him gently yet with unyielding determination.

“Usually one of our top managers does it, but of course, with you it had to be me. Also some of these gentlemen sent me messages during the meeting… Seems that they want to take part, now that they saw you.”

His face is inches from yours and he lowers his voice to tell you, “to be specific, we all are going to celebrate you and your body. Teach you some new things while we’re at it, too.”

Your gaze darts between his darkening eyes as you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You can’t comprehend what he’s saying but your instinct is screaming for you to run.

Joel gently cups your cheek and turns to the other men in the room, “she’s adorable.” With that he places his hands on your hips, and mumbling “c’mon”, moves you to the head of the desk.

“Joel, what are you…?” Your voice is shaky, your palms placed on his broad chest push him off you but he’s too strong and soon your ass is perched up on the surface, your back turned to the other men.

“Joel, please, what are you doing?” you mumble as panic rises in your chest.

“Shh, we’re just gonna have some fun, you and me at first, then I'll let the others join us.”

He looks behind you, and you hear the other men react.

“Fuck yeah.”

“I think I will.”

“Give it to her, boss.”

You hear their words and you start to understand what’s happening. Or rather, you start realizing what your dissociated mind was trying to hide.

“Joel… You’re scaring me…” you stammer, eyes wide.

“Fear is a good thing. It means I'm in control. And I want control over you."

Now you feel Joel’s hands rubbing your thighs, covered by tights, slithering up and under the hem of your skirt, while his gaze is set on your chest.

“No, Joel, please,” you plead, searching for his eyes, hoping to keep his attention on you, break the spell that turned these people into wild animals, turned this office into a cage that you can’t escape from. Trying to make him come back to his senses and remind him that it's you, the person he's known for so long, that he is your father's friend, who you thought would protect you from all dangers, if he had to.

But his eyes remain black, cold. The more you beg, the brighter an unhealthy spark shines in them. As if he likes it, likes you begging.

“You’re my dad’s friend, don’t do this to me,” you whine, overwhelmed by his big body caging yours against the desk, terrified to your core at the realization of what he’s about to do to you.

“Yes, you’re right,” he stops, giving you a glimpse of hope, and looks into your eyes. “Your dad’s a great guy but he has a big flaw. He has this pretty little thing for a daughter.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him, your hope is dead.

Joel leans closer and you pull away but he grabs the back of your neck and holds you still, brushing your lips with his.

“If he only knew how much I want to stretch your little holes. And you know me, baby,” he pecks your lips and whispers, “I always get what I want.”

The men behind you chuckle, loving this display of power. The smell of Joel’s perfume hits your nose and your head spins for a second as part of you still struggles to understand what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes.

Your new boss, a man you’ve known for years, wants to fuck you in front of other people on your first day here. You try to make your mind work, get you out of the situation.

“I’ll tell my dad. I’ll tell everyone,” you cry out, making your voice firmer, but Joel just laughs, enveloping you in his tight embrace. To your horror you hear the sound of the chairs moving behind you and then footsteps. You’re surrounded now.

“If you start yapping, sweetie, you and your dad will lose your jobs in a second and I’ll make sure no one ever hires you both.”

His voice is calm, his breathing steady, as if he were telling you the most mundane things in the world, and you shiver.

“Besides, your dad owes me a lot of money. Your family will lose everything.” He searches for your widened eyes and whispers, “you work for me now so it means I own you.”

Suddenly his lips latch onto your neck. His hold is too tight but the kiss is slow and gentle.

“No, no,” you start sobbing and Joel pulls away and takes your face between his big hands.

“Honey, calm down, imagine there’s only you and me here. No one else, uh?” His eyes are obsidian and full of lust and you understand that you won’t get out of this. He will have you.

“Please, Joel, I don’t want to…“

“But you do, baby, you want me,” he kisses your cheek. “You want my big cock in your little pussy. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He drags his stubble over your cheek and you whimper when his hand snakes between your thighs.

“You really think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, the clothes you wear, when I have lunch at your parents’?”

“What? No!!”

“Shh…” he cuts you, brushing your lips with his finger. “You wanna get fucked by a man older than you. A man who will give it to you good.”

Through the material of your tights and panties you feel his hand caress your folds and you close your eyes shut, trying to escape the horror of the situation.

"Girls your age want that. A mature man,” he adds.

You mewl a quiet “no” again and he uses the moment to kiss you and push his tongue past your lips. With one hand keeping you close and the other gently massaging your pussy, Joel claims your mouth, licking into it, swallowing your soft cries.

As soon as he parts from you, your hands push him away but his strong physique overpowers you in seconds. He grabs your wrists and makes you lie down on the desk. You’re pressed to the wooden surface by his heavy body as his breath fans your cheek when he growls, “Don’t fight it. It’ll be my way or bad way, baby. Choose wisely.”

In your peripheral vision you notice the men next to the desk, one on the left and two on the right. Like hyenas they are waiting for their turn when the main predator is done with the prey.

You begin thrashing around on the desk and Joel slightly lifts his torso but holds you down with his hand wrapped around your neck. You freeze as panic grips your heart. He’s not squeezing it but the threat is swimming in his blown out eyes.

He smirks when you stop moving. “Good girl. Made the right choice.”

Joel straightens up, his figure looming over you, and then starts pulling up your skirt. You try to stop his hands but in vain.

“Let’s see what we have here. White lace. Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Innocence looks good on you. I know you’re not a virgin though,” he laughs and continues, “I remember a boy used to come to your bedroom all the time. Your old man was scared that you’d get pregnant. Fuck, I wanted to kill that little shit for touching you.“

You take a sharp breath, terrified of how long his obsession with you has lasted.

“I know you’re single now. It’s good. Now you have me. I’ll fulfill all your needs, baby. And will fill all your holes.”

With that he rips your tights between your legs, and you squeal scared to death. You try to slide off the desk but he presses his forearm over your belly, not letting you move away.

You hear the murmur of the others, watching you sob and fight the man twice bigger than you like it’s some twisted show.

When Joel grabs your hips to keep you in place, you turn your head, pleading eyes darting between the men but their expressions scare you. There’s not a trace of sympathy on their faces, not a chance that this vile group will help you.

With tears streaming down your cheeks you look back between your spread legs and find Joel’s hungry gaze there. He’s sneering at you, noticing your fruitless attempt to seek assistance from his employees.

“What’s that, baby? Looking for anyone to call an HR? He’s over there. Say hi, Steve.”

You hear a gruff voice somewhere from behind you.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Aww, isn’t he nice?” Joel mocks and dread spreads in your chest. There’s no way out. You’re trapped. Your only hope is the man you thought to be a friend.

“Please, Joel. Stop. I won’t tell anyone. Let me go.” Your voice is barely audible, you sound pathetic, and Joel’s face softens. His brows knit together as he looks between your legs and talks while his fingers slowly pull your panties to the side.

“I think I’ve made a mistake.”

You gasp when his fingers graze your exposed folds and try to close your legs but he’s holding you securely.

“I haven’t explained your position in this company yet. It will help you to understand what’s happening and accept it.” His fingers stroke your seam and then push inside between your folds, leaving you shocked and breathless.

“From now on you’re my office whore. I tell you to suck, you suck, I tell you to bend over - you do exactly that.”

His voice is gruff and cold, eyes focused on the place where his fingers swirl around your hardening clit and you squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the fire in your core that’s burning brighter with every second of his caress.

“She loves it, your pretty pussy,” Joel smiles, looking up at you, “do you hear how wet she’s getting for me? You should relax, and let your body take what it wants. Stop fighting it, baby.”

He sinks two thick digits into your soft hole and you tighten your muscles, eyes wide, surprised by a heat spreading through your body.

You hear it too. When Joel begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching noises reach your ears, the sign of your body surrendering to his horrible act. A moan crawls up your throat and you muffle it with the back of your hand.

A sharp flick of Joel’s fingers lands on your clit and you cry out.

“Don’t. Don’t hide it. Wanna hear you enjoying it, little slut. I wouldn’t make my cock wait if I didn’t wanna hear some sweet moans from you.”

His hands leave your pussy and he places his palms on your inner thighs, spreading them wider.

“Now— Let’s have a taste.”

You watch him lower his head to your cunt and he licks a stripe between your wet folds from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit and sucks on it for a few seconds. Your back arches involuntarily.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, wet lips against your folds, and the vibrations send shivers down your spine.

You want to hate the sensation his mouth is giving you, but your whole body treacherously buzzes when his hot tongue laps away your slick. Joel kisses your pussy, his gentleness is a striking contrast to the situation. He’s eating you out to make you come, hungry to claim your pleasure as well, and you grit your teeth, fighting it with all your being.

He feels you holding back and growls before focusing all of his attention on your puffy clit, flicking it and rubbing it with his tongue, sucking it in between his teeth, and you can’t help but explode under his ministrations. You begin shaking against the desk, and through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears you hear cheers and clapping from the heartless audience.

“Good job, boss!”

“What a slut!”

“You’re the man!”

Their reaction makes your heart shutter into pieces.

Joel gives his employees his million dollar smile, pride lighting up his dark eyes, and absentmindedly rubs his hands over your thighs still partially covered by tights, ripped at the crotch.

He gets up from the chair and when you try to close your legs, he yanks you to the edge again, pushing his hips between your thighs.

Joel slowly unbuckles his belt with one hand and unzips his suit pants, talking to you, “I thought about asking you out on a date, honey. Making you my girlfriend.”

He chuckles and pulls his boxers down.

“Could be nice. You, waiting for me at home.”

His cock springs free and you feel even more scared if it’s even possible. His manhood is huge, long and thick, bigger than your ex boyfriend’s for sure. He holds it at the base and continues, “you’d greet me with a home-cooked meal and a wet pussy.”

You know what he’s about to do and all your being rises in protest so you slap his hand off and slide off the desk in a fast motion.

“Hold her!” Joel barks and a few pairs of hands grab you and push you down. Your back hits the desk and someone’s holding your wrists over your head, their hands keeping you still, at the same time gliding over exposed parts of your body - your neck, your chest, a slither of your naked belly.

Joel doesn’t stop them. His eyes are fixed on your bare cunt, glistening with the signs of your body’s betrayal.

A sharp slap lands on your mound and sends a bolt of pain through your body, and you squeal.

“Don’t do it again, naughty girl. Or I’ll let these heathens fuck your ass raw.”

You sob, trying to ease the steel grip on your wrists. Through tears in your eyes, you see Joel bring the head of his stiff cock to your pussy and in a second you feel him push it in, slowly, but not for the sake of your comfort. Only for his enjoyment.

His head falls back and he groans, “fuckk, she’s tight. You can’t find a pussy like that in an escort.”

Joel looks down at you with a hazy smile and you plead for him to stop but he ignores you and thrusts into your core. He takes out what’s in his pocket and brings his hand close to your stuffed cunt. You hear a “buzz”, when he turns on a bullet vibe.

“No, Joel, please…” you cry.

“I want you to come on my cock too. And with this little helper, I’m sure you will, baby.”

He begins rolling his hips, pushing his fat cock in and out of your dripping pussy. You whine, feeling your walls spread around his girthy member and your belly is heaving with a mixture of fear and arousal. Meanwhile Joel starts fucking you faster, talking to you like there’s no one else in the room.

“Your dad would mind if we started going out but who gives a shit? I could just throw some money his way. Money can buy everything.”

He winks at you and you sob, sliding up and down the desk with each mighty thrust.

“But — It’s not the main problem. I spend most of the time here. I work hard—Aahhh— and it’s nice to fuck someone between the meetings, right, guys?”

You hear sounds of agreement around you and squeeze your eyes shut, scared to see the faces of the monsters around you.

Joel’s cock is rhythmically brushing your g spot and you hate that behind the horror there’s pleasure, nauseating and terrifying, but pleasure nonetheless. Joel tilts his hips and you cry out when he grazes something ecstatic inside your core.

“You gonna come again, honey?” he coos at you and the pet name he used so many times before, visiting your father, cuts your heart with a sharp blade.

A river of fresh tears rolls down your face but your misery is not noticed by Joel who explains, after a loud grunt, “office affairs take too much time and effort. But you. You’d be perfect as my pretty cum dumpster.”

With that he grabs your sides, nails digging into your soft skin, and starts snapping his hips into you, violating your pussy with his fat cock.

“Fuck, gonna come soon. Pussy’s too good. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The men around you cheer again. Joel presses the vibrator to your clit and you whine, your walls clamp around his manhood and it sends him over the edge. With a loud grunt he begins spilling his hot cum into your pulsating pussy, pumping you more and more, pushing his cock deeper, while holding you with the iron grip of his hands.

You start sobbing again feeling the warmth spread deep in your core and it freezes your heart with another terror. You’re not on the pill.

Joel stays buried inside you for some time. You are so shocked that you don't react. You ignore his cock pulsating inside you. Ignore its last twitches. Until reality hits you and you cry harder. Your body betrayed you. Joel betrayed you.

“Joel, please… let me go.”

He finally pulls out and you feel some of his cum slide to your ass. You try to sit up but he grabs your wrists in his hands, keeping you down on the desk, leaning over you. His hazy gaze fixed on yours.

“Not so fast baby… we’re not gonna waste all this cum, are we? I want these men to remember who you belong to and fuck it back into you.”

You realize with shock that he really intends to throw you to them.

“Steve? You worked so hard this month. Enjoy your reward.”

Looking down at you, he adds, “come on, baby, be a good girl. Steve deserves it. And we already know you're a little slut. You clenched so hard on my cock, mmm?” He wipes away a tear running down your cheek with his thumb and steps away.

You try to close your legs but Joel clicks his tongue.

“No, no, no. I made myself clear, didn't I? Jim, didn’t I make myself clear?”

“Yes, boss, very clear.”

“If you're difficult, your father can say goodbye to his income. To his job. Your parents almost got divorced that time, didn't they?” His dark eyes are fixed on you. Even colder than before. There’s no hesitation or remorse in him. “So if you don't want your father to end up under a bridge, and your mother to whore around with her slutty daughter, you're gonna stop whining.”

He points his finger at you. You remember the meeting earlier. How cold he was, how sorry you felt for that woman. But now, it’s you who is facing this terrible side of him.

“And you’re gonna let them take their turn. Final warning.”

You suppress a sob, even when Steve settles between your legs and places one hand on your thigh and the other around his cock.

“Go on Steve, give her a good fuck.”

You hear the men cheer when Joel's employee pushes his tip in your already sore hole.

“Come on man, give it to her good!”

“Fuck that bitch!”

He thrusts in, grunting. Excited by the cheers of the other men. He fucks you hard as soon as he grabs your thighs and buries his length in you. You keep your eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze, and unwilling to give them any more of yourself by letting them see your frightened eyes.

“Well damn, Steve, you got great moves!”

The man puts his hands on your hips for a better leverage, jerking you forward with each thrust.

“Fuck, she's tight…”

“Yeah? Tighter than your wife?”

They all laugh, and you feel nauseous.

“Come on, Steve. Shoot your load. Don't enjoy it too much. I just lent her to you.”

Steve obeys and comes in your cunt, mixing his cum with Joel's.

Then Jim uses you.

And finally, Paul. He turns you around and bends you over to thrust into you from behind. He’s already groaning, when Joel’s phone rings.

“Oh!” he chuckles when he sees the name on the screen. He picks up and, looking at you, brings his index finger to his mouth, ordering you to be quiet.

“Hey, man! Calling to check on your daughter?” He walks around the desk to sit at your side and starts jerking his cock as he watches you getting fucked by the third man.

You can’t hear what your dad is saying, and your mind dissociates again.

“It’s going great. She’s already showing some serious skills!”

Joel smiles in response to what your father’s saying, his hand still fucking his shaft.

“No, sorry, she’s with Paul. He’s showing her some new procedures, they will be very useful to me soon.”

Paul is growling, rutting into you, and you hear Joel say, “Yeah sure, I’ll tell her you called.”

Paul spreads your ass cheeks and spits on your ring.

“No!” Joel gruffs in a low, menacing voice, after hanging up. “No one fucks her ass.”

“Sorry, boss, she takes it so good, I got carried away.”

“Don’t forget your place. Fill her up, and then get out, all of you. She’s mine, got it? We all… welcomed her, but now she belongs only to me.”

After using you like a fuck doll, the three men leave the office chatting happily.

Joel gets up, his hand working his fat cock.

“Gotta fill you again, baby. I can’t stay like this, with a hard-on, it’s painful, you know?”

You can’t believe he’s telling you this.

“Pussy’s already ruined, anyway,” he says as he thrusts in and fucks you hard and fast in all men’s cum, until he sends his load into your owerflowing core for a second time.

You’re lying on the desk, not even realizing they all left, that Joel has pulled out, until you feel a jacket covering you. Joel pulls down your skirt back over your thighs and grabs your arm to help you up. He fixes your shirt and looks at your face, your makeup smudged, mascara running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna need some rest, baby. Come back next week. I’ll be the only one playing with you, from now on. Don’t forget - a pretty girl like you needs a man like me.”

You shiver. His voice pulls you out from the depths of your mind, that is lying to you that none of this has happened.

“Are you on birth control?”

You shake your head, eyes empty.

“I’m gonna give you an after pill, I don’t want you knocked up by one of the guys. You’re too precious for me. Now get your stuff and go home. And don’t think of telling anyone. No one will believe you anyway.”

As you grab the handle, he adds “Oh, before you leave. Add to my calendar, tomorrow, ‘a barbecue at your parents’, at noon. Your dad’s just invited me. It’s gonna be great, baby. Can’t wait to pay you a visit in your bedroom.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark fic

The Burglary -Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon

The hounds of hell - Series - Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Tagging some lovely people who showed interest in the wips: @koshkaj-blog @604to647 @megangovier @tateypots @sunshineispunk @thundermartini @pedge-page @mountainsandmayhem @iamasaddie @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @evolnoomym @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40