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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

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Chapter 14- Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: You and Javi celebrate your first Christmas together in Laredo

Word Count: 11.3K (could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), oral (f receiving), face sitting (awh hell yes), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/death (but it's sweet), children being assholes (I'm a teacher, I'm allowed to say it), our favorite idiots Carter and Miller making a brief appearance (I missed them), Javi being so sweet with kids (this does deserve a warning, I'm sorry) Javi being so kind, patient, thoughtful, amazing UGH he is too good for this earth 🥹😩

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I finally get this chapter done! Life has been absolutely crazy these past two weeks, so I'm hoping now that things have settled down, I can get back to working on chapters at a more regular schedule 🥴 If you're a Christmas girlie (gender neutral) like me, this chapter is for you, because even though it's only October, I really can't help myself (and like these two idiots celebrating Christmas together for the first time?! C'mon 🥺)

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“So you’re leaving early today to do arts and crafts? That’s a new one.” Agent Miller snickered, leaning over his desk to slap his partner, Agent Carter, in amusement as they watched their boss begin to organize his desk and pack up his briefcase, already rolling his eyes in annoyance at the grief he was about to get from his co-workers for his early departure.

“I’m not the one doing the arts and crafts. I’m just going into her class to help, you idiot.” Javi sighed, glaring at Miller as he finished sorting the rest of his paperwork piles.

Last week, you had asked Javi if he would be able to come into your classroom one afternoon when he wasn't busy, to help with the project you were planning for your students to give to their parents as a Christmas gift before they left for winter break. You had quickly realized that for the sake of your sanity, what you had planned was nowhere near a one man job, and because it was a surprise gift for their families, you didn’t want to ask any parents to come into help. Javi had happily accepted, even with your adamant warnings of the case of Christmas Crazies your class had with only days left before winter break.

“…. To help do arts and crafts. Just callin’ a spade a spade here, Peña. Does that mean we’re gonna start having craft time here, too?” Miller and Carter chuckled to themselves, smirking at Javi, now slinging his briefcase over his shoulder, making his way out of his office.

“Listen, Miller. Give Peña all the shit you want, but I would way rather be cutting and gluing shit and throwing fist fulls of glitter in the air than working on these fucking reports.” Carter huffed, waving the file folder Miller was supposed to be working on in his face before throwing it back down on his desk.

“Fair enough.”

“I wouldn’t trust you dumbasses with scissors and glue if my life depended on it.” Javi groaned, raising an eyebrow at the pair before picking up one of the finished reports off of Carter’s desk, using it to point at the two on his way out. “These better be done by the time I get back tomorrow.”

“But I’m gonna need extra time to decorate them for you, Peña!” Miller grinned, he and Carter playfully swatting at each other in hysterics, Javi flipping them off as he headed out the door.

After his mom passed, Javi would have never thought Alma Pierce Elementary School would be a place that would hold any more relevance to him, let alone be a place that he would frequent, now that his future wife worked there. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot, thinking about the joy it would have brought Lucia to see that her years of having Javi help her with her own classroom were still going to good use with you. He also couldn’t help but smile to himself as he grabbed the coffee sitting in his cup holder he had picked up for you on the way over from the station, also knowing his mom would have had some choice words to say to him if he showed up empty handed to your classroom.

After checking in with the office, he made the now familiar route down to your classroom, weaving through the tiny bodies patterning down the hallway, screeching and squealing with what had to be uncontrollable Christmas excitement. He gently tapped at your door before opening it, a grin growing across your face as you looked up from your desk as you saw your fiancé with an extra large cup of coffee in his hands at the doorway.

“Oh my god, you brought me coffee? I owe you my life, you are the best. Thank you.” The sigh you let out felt like the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as you shot up to run over to Javi, giving him a big hug before snatching the cup out of his hands and taking a long swig of the caffeine you knew you were going to need to get you through the afternoon.

“I figured you could probably use it.” Javi chuckled, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before looking around, noticing that you were the only one in your room. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re at lunch, I was just about to leave to go pick them up. They’ve been absolute psychopaths today. I know it’s wrong to say I wanna drop kick a child out a window, but I’m real close.” You grumbled, taking another long sip of your coffee. “I don’t think I would have made it out alive today if you didn’t come in to help, so I apologize in advance for their behavior. I may or may not have told them that because you work for the police you keep track of what kids are well behaved or not to try and scare them a little.” You grimaced, knowing that the comment you had made earlier to your kids when you told them Javi was coming into help wasn’t the most ethical, but you were desperate for anything that would even remotely help control the chaos in your classroom with only 2 days left before winter break.

“Any kids in particular I need to be on the lookout for?” Javi asked, laughing to himself as you leaned over to set your coffee on your desk before heading towards the door to go pick up your class from the cafeteria.

“Oh… you’ll know them when you see them.”

You closed the door behind you, giving Javi a quick wink, leaving him alone in your classroom to wait for the arrival of the promised circus show that was your students. He wandered over to your desk, peeking through the piles of papers, sticky notes of to-do’s and drawings your students had given you. On the wall by your calendars, there was a photo of you and your family, 2 of you and Javi, and a note that he had written you one day and stuck in your lunch box, scribbled down in his rushed handwriting

Te amo mucho, hermosa. Have a great day.

-J

He thumbed gently at the wrinkled note, smiling to himself, still in awe of how the pieces of him seemed to follow you in everywhere you went. The sweet moment was quickly interrupted by the sounds of little voices bursting through the doorway, chattering away as they rushed to go sit on the carpet at the front of the room.

“Who’s that guy?!” A boy’s voice asked, pointing in Javi’s direction before balling up his body and doing a literal somersault across the carpet.

“It’s Mr. Peña! Do you not remember when our teacher told us before lunch that he was coming, dummy?” A girl’s voice responded, rolling her eyes at the boy, now laying face down on the floor. As more and more kids came over to the carpet, the more and more voices began to chime in.

“Don’t call him a dummy, Angela, that’s mean!”

“Well he is!”

“Why does that guy have a mustache?”

“My uncle has a mustache!”

“When are we going home?”

“Miguel tried to kick me in the nuts at recess!”

“I did not!”

You buried your hands in your face, letting out a deep sigh, shaking your head before looking back at Javi, quietly mouthing “I’m so sorry.” across the room before making your way to the front of the class.

“If you can hear me, clap once.”

3 or 4 half hearted claps followed over the chatter.

“If you can hear me, clap twice.”

More students began to join in, curious to see that Javi was now also following your directions.

“If you can hear me, put your hands on your head and turn off your voice.”

Finally, the volume of your room began to ease, all of your students, and Javi, quietly looking at you with their hands resting on top of their heads.

“Okay, 3rd graders. Right now, we are going to work on our holiday presents for our grownups we’ve been talking about all week. Remember how I told you this morning that we have someone special coming in to help today?” The class nodded, eyes glued on Javi. “This is Mr. Peña. Can you guys say hi?”

“Hi, Mr. Peña!” The class waved at him, Javi now smiling and waving back at them.

“Mr. Peña is taking time out of his day to come help us with our project, so we need to show him what a respectful, responsible and safe class we are, okay? If we can follow directions and everyone gets their project done, then we will have time for extra recess at the end of the day.” Javi snickered at the silent grins and high-fives on the carpet in hopes of bonus time outside. “Once you glue your picture on your plate to make your snowglobe, you can come see me to put the snowflakes inside, and then take it over to Mr. Peña and he’s going to hot glue it for you.”

A tiny hand quickly shot up, waving it back and forth. “No, Miguel. You cannot use the hot glue gun. It’s a grownup's only job.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes as Miguel frowned and put his hand back in his lap, knowing damn well he would be one to try and hot glue his hands together. “Do we have any questions before we start?” Almost all of your class’s hands shot up immediately, all beaming at Javi, frantically wiggling their arms in the air. You laughed to yourself, knowing that none of them had any questions about the project, and just wanted to talk to Javi. “Are these all just questions for Mr. Peña?” The class nodded, now squirming in their spots. “Okay, we can do 3 questions right now, and maybe if we have time at the end we can ask him some more questions. Is that okay, Mr. Peña?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Javi smiled, trying his best to keep from smirking at you and your teacher voice that seemed to be having a much stronger effect on him than he had intended.

“Okay, Mr. Peña is going to pick 3 people who are sitting on their bottom and are waiting quietly and patiently for a turn.” You couldn’t help but smirk back at him as he stepped next to you on the front of the carpet, nervously running his thumb over his knuckles to prepare for his interrogation from 8 and 9 year olds. He pointed over to a girl at the back of the group, nodding to her to ask whatever was on her mind.

“So you’re marrying our teacher? Do you love her? Have you ever kissed her before?” The entire class erupted with giggles as Javi’s face went red with embarrassment.

“Uh, yeah. I love her a lot and that’s why we’re getting married.” Javi leaned over to whisper in your ear as the kids continued to snicker. “Am I allowed to answer the last part?”

“We’re not gonna talk about kissing at school, okay, Maya?” You laughed, giving Javi a little nudge as he pointed to the next student, picking a boy this time, in hopes that he wouldn’t have intense questions about his love life.

“Our teacher said that you work at the police station. Have you ever arrested anyone? Do you catch bad guys?” One of the boys asked, the rest of the class leaning in with intrigue. Javi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to maneuver another hard hitting question.

“Well I uh, I help train the guys who catch the bad guys, I don’t actually go out and catch them.”

“SO YOU DON’T THROW PEOPLE IN JAIL?!” Miguel shouted out, barely letting Javi answer his question.

“I’m gonna throw you in jail, Miguel…” you muttered under your breath, hiding your face behind Javi’s shoulder, the both of you trying to contain your laughter.

“No, I don’t. Uh okay, last one.” He pointed to another girl who had been patiently waiting with her hand raised the entire time Javi had been sharing.

“One time, my grandpa punched my dad in the face, and they kept punching and punching and so then my mom called the police, and then he had to go to jail and my Grandpa kept yelling you motherfu-.”

“OKAY, on that note we’re gonna start with our projects, everything is already on your desks. Come see me for snowflakes and Mr. Peña for gluing both pieces together.” Your eyes widened in horror, jumping in to try and cut her off before she could finish the rest of her thought. It had thankfully seemed like the rest of the class had been oblivious, racing back to their desks to work on their projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose before rubbing your fingers against your temples, trying not to wither away from the embarrassment your class had decided to subject you to with their questions for Javi.

“... I am so sorry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Javi, trying his best to keep from laughing at the antics your class was already up to before they had even started working on their project.

“Is this what it’s like every day?” Javi’s eyes widened as he looked out at the classroom, already overwhelmed by the noise and bodies moving everywhere.

“It’s normally not this bad, I swear I’m a good teacher. With it being 2 days before break, as long as everyone makes it home alive, I’m calling it a win. Thank you again for coming to help, Jav. You okay to man the hot glue station?”

“Of course, Osita.” He smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“Miguel will legitimately try to glue his hands together, so just be… extra careful when he comes around.”

You couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi had agreed to help you with your project, because passing out confetti snowflakes alone was enough to make you lose your mind, let alone try and glue things together, too. Through the chaos, you and Javi found yourself exchanging quick glances, quietly laughing to yourself at the craziness. You couldn’t help but stare a little longer as you watched Javi your students, patiently helping each of them, listening to them share about who they were planning on giving their handmade gift to, complementing them on their work, and carefully monitoring to make sure no one (especially Miguel) got too close to the hot glue gun. You’d be lying if you said it ever got old watching how goddamn sweet he was with any kid he talked to, making your heartbeat a little faster at the thought of how much sweeter he’d be when it was one of your own.

By some miracle, everyone had finished with their gift before it was time for gym, glady sending them on their way to go burn off some excessive energy to help you through the last few hours of the day. Javi’s mom had clearly trained him well, coming back to find him helping to clean up the leftover mess from your crafts after dropping your class off.

“You don’t have to help clean up, Jav. You’ve already done more than enough.” You sighed, sitting yourself on top of the desk Javi was next to, reaching out to grab his hand.

“Osita. If this is what you do every fucking day all day long, the least I can help you do is clean up. Jesus Christ, this was fucking exhausting.”

“Well, I really threw you into the worst of it, so I apologize. Thank you again for helping. The kids really liked you. They kept asking the whole way to gym when you were going to come back. I told them when they stopped acting like a pack of wild monkeys, maybe you’ll consider.” You and Javi laughed, Javi gently resting his hand on your knee, thumb circling against your jeans.

“I’ll come back any time, Hermosa. Getting to watch my hot, future wife kick ass at her job is way better than having to harp on Carter and Miller to run the reports I ask them to every goddamn day. I’m more than happy to stay if you need more help, but I figured since I took the rest of the afternoon off, and I have a genuine appreciation for a fraction of how fucking hard your job is, I would go home and make whatever you want for dinner and finish up shit around the apartment so we can spend tonight doing whatever you want.” You smiled up at Javi, reaching your hand under his chin, pulling it closer to you to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

“Someone’s really trying to make sure they make their place on the Nice List before Christmas.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You deserve it all, Osita. It’s seriously the least I can do. Although, the things I wanna do to you later are definitely gonna end me up on the Naughty List.” He gripped his hand around the meat of your thigh, giving it a long squeeze as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to use every ounce of self control to remember he was still at your work, let alone an elementary school where an 8 year old could come busting through the door at any moment.

“You’re such a fucking dork. You’re lucky I love you so much.” You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “Thank you, Jav. You really are the best. Can we do breakfast for dinner?”

“I had a feeling that was what you were gonna ask for.”

“Breakfast is the superior food at all hours of the day, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“Pancakes or waffles?”

“Surprise me.”

You pecked a quick kiss onto Javi’s cheek before sliding off the desk, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug, pressing your face into the fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the familiarity of his sweet and spicy cologne that had become the scent that smelled like home. “Alright, as much as I don’t want you to leave, I probably should be a good teacher and print the rest of the things I need and salvage a survival plan for the next two days before the gremlins get back.”

“I’ll see you at home, Hermosa. Love you”

“Love you too.”

With one last squeeze, and a wave as he headed out the door, Javi left you in your empty classroom, looking out at the disaster left in your student’s wake. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.

Anything that you had planned for the afternoon had quickly gone out the window after your class had returned from gym, your plans for an extra long recess turning into an even longer recess, and part of a movie before sending the kids on their way home. Some way or another, you were able to drag yourself home, the promise of breakfast food keeping you afloat the entirety of your drive home.

As you walked down the hallway of your apartment, you could hear the quick pops and sizzles of the bacon Javi was cooking over the muffled Christmas music in the background. Turning your key in the lock on the doorknob, you pushed the door open, immediately dropping your school bag and kicking off your shoes, practically falling to the floor from exhaustion. Before you could even turn around to greet Javi, you felt his arms reaching under your legs and around your shoulders, making you squeal as he scooped you up, carrying you across the entry way towards the living room.

“Hi?” You laughed, looking up at Javi in confusion as to why you had barely made it 2 feet into your apartment before he was picking you up and carrying you away.

“Hi.” He smiled down at you, giving you a little shake in his grip.

“Can I ask why you’re carrying me? Am I not allowed to walk anymore?” You guestrued down at the ground, watching your legs dangle with each step Javi took.

“Because you work harder than anyone I know, and after today, if I’m fucking tired, you must be fucking exhausted, and my amazing, beautiful future wife deserves to relax.”

He paused, tilting his head down to give you a kiss before turning his body the opposite direction. You had been so focused on Javi as he carried you from the doorway, you hadn’t even realized what was set up in the living room until he had shifted his position, facing you towards it. You looked over to see a blanket fort built between the ends of the couch, TV paused and ready to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”, and the Christmas tree the two of you had decorated together lit up and twinkling, casting warm shadows on the walls. “Pajamas are in there, so change, lay down and I’m bringing you breakfast while we watch the movie.”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked out at the living room and back up at Javi. “Javi, you didn’t have to-”

“I know, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. I know how much you love Christmas and how we haven’t done much to celebrate since you’ve been busy with work, so I wanted to do something for you.” A grin grew across Javi’s face, watching your jaw hang open in shock as he set you down, letting you go over to examine his blanket creation. You stood there, shaking your head in disbelief, wondering to yourself how the hell you had gotten so lucky that someone cared enough about you to make you dinner after a long day, let alone plan something special for you, even if it was just in your living room. Before you could even respond, Javi was heading back to the kitchen to turn off the beeping timer of the oven, gesturing over to the fort. “I’ll be in there in a second.”

“Javi, you set this all up for me, at least let me help with dinner or-”

“Osita. Go put on pajamas and lay down. I swear to God, you’re the only person I’ve ever met that needs more convincing to go sit and relax than get up and do things.” He laughed, pointing at the covered couch, demanding you to get in. You held your hands up in defense before kneeling down to peek under the blankets Javi had draped over the top to see your comforter, all the pillows and blankets you owned, and your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants of Javi’s folded neatly on top of everything. You quickly stood back up, unzipping and shuffling out of your jeans, trading them out for the sweatpants before stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, peeking around the corner to see Javi biting down on his bottom lip, eyes glued to you as you slipped his sweatshirt over your head.

“I should have known better than to think you would have put out clothes for me to change into for any other reason than your own selfish gain, Javier Peña.” You jabbed, Javi shrugging as he grabbed two plates of the breakfast that he had finished cooking, bringing them back over to you.

“Me? Wanting to watch you change on purpose, knowing damn well you were gonna take your bra off before you put my sweatshirt on? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, a devilish grin growing across his face as he ducked into the fort, giving you a quick wink.

“You? Wanting to see my boobs? Yeah, you’re right, how silly of me.” You groaned, voice oozing with sarcasm as you followed him, snuggling yourself under a blanket as Javi handed a plate over to you. “In all seriousness, this is really sweet of you, Javi. Thank you. Didn’t picture you as a big blanket fort kind of guy.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge.

“I would make them all the time when I was little. Especially with my mom. I’d play with Hot Wheels in there, or my mom would read with me- I don’t know, maybe it’s from being with you at school today, and thinking about her, but I got home and thought you’d like it. You seem like someone who made their fair share of blanket forts as a kid.” Javi’s face beamed with a soft smile, the dimples of his cheeks creasing as he grinned over at you.

“That’s really sweet. She sounds like she was the best mom. That’s a lot sweeter than my memories of building forts. My brothers and I had a pretty much permanent one set up in the basement made from old hockey sticks, but it was referred to in our house as Pound Town. We would go in and beat the shit out of each other with pillows until it collapsed on us and we’d have to pause, try to build it again, and beat the shit out of each other with pillows as we argued about if we were building it right or not. My parents let it slide because we weren’t annoying them, until one day when Patrick and I got in a huge fight about which couch cushions to use and he took one of the hockey sticks and hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. Pound Town was no more after that.” You grimaced, taking a bite of one of the chocolate chip pancakes Javi had put on your plate.

“I’m pretty sure at this point, you could tell me that you and your brothers robbed a bank and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“We were always well behaved during December, though. My parents definitely played into the threat of being on the naughty list as soon as Thanksgiving was over. At least they got a few weeks of peace each year. I honestly think that my parents were just as excited for Christmas movies as we were, because it at least gave them an hour and a half of semi-silence.” You laughed, nodding your head towards the TV.

“I’m gonna be honest, Osita. I don’t blame them.” You sighed, leaning your head against Javi’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with each small huff of laughter. “We don’t have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” either, I just know you said you liked it and we didn’t get to watch it yet.”

“No, this is a perfect pick. It’s one of my favorites. You wanna start it?” Reaching over for the remote, you smiled at Javi as he nodded, pressing play as the title credits began rolling across the screen. Javi had quickly come to learn that if you liked a movie, not only were you willing to watch it a million times, you knew just about every line, like you were putting on a one man production of whatever it was you were watching. Although you always quoted everything to yourself under your breath, something about it made Javi’s heart melt, spending more time looking over at you, whispering the lines of the movie to yourself, rather than watching whatever was on the screen. In between bites of breakfast, Javi watched your cheeks turn rosy as you watched a little George and Mary on the screen, eating ice cream at the drugstore, Mary leaning down to whisper in George’s ear. Javi had only seen the movie a handful of times, knowing it nowhere near as well as you, but well enough to know the line you mouthed to yourself wasn’t quite right.

“Javier Peña, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.”

The two of you munched away at the rest of your breakfast dinner, Javi taking both of your empty plates back to the kitchen before nestling back under the blankets, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you laid your head against his chest. Now watching George and Mary throw stones through the windows of the old, abandoned house, making wishes of what they hoped their lives to be, you snuggled closer to Javi, draping your arm over his waist, twisting the ends of his t-shirt between your fingers.

“I can’t believe they’re actually gonna start building the house in a few weeks.” You looked up at Javi, beaming with excitement. After Javi’s proposal, both to be his wife and to build the two of you your dream home, you both had been working to draft up and finalize plans for construction to physically start happening. All of the design process had been smooth sailing so far, you and Javi easily agreeing on things you wanted for the house- layouts, designs, sizing- the only thing that was stopping you from moving forward with progress was deciding how many bedrooms the house was going to have.

“Not too late to tell Danny we need to add another bedroom.” Javi teased, gently squeezing your arm.

“I think 5 bedrooms is plenty, Mr. Ambitious. If we have more than 4 kids, we might as well add enough rooms to house a baseball team.”

“I’ll give you a football team’s worth of kids, if you want it.”

“I know you would, but you’re not the one who has to push a football team’s worth of kids out of you.” You laughed, playfully swatting at Javi before he wrapped his arm around the small of your back, flipping you so that your chest was caged with his, bodies laying pressed against each other.

“I’m happy with 1 kid or 10. Whatever you want, Osita, I’ll give it to you.” Javi smiled softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before cupping your jaw in his palm, thumb delicately circling across your skin.

“What if I want you?” You whispered, stretching your head up to nibble at his chin, planting kisses along his face and neck, each one more desperate and hungry than the last.

“You have me, Hermosa. Forever.” He reached down, grabbing your left hand, carefully twisting the gold and diamond band around your finger in his. It wasn’t long before his hand had left yours, beginning to roam down your shoulders and back before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants, grabbing handfuls of your ass as you pressed the weight of your hips further into his, feeling his bulge starting to grow underneath you. Working his hands back up around your hips, he pushed your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, slightly raising your lower half to help Javi strip them off your body, leaving your lower half exposed. Javi’s grip tightened around your thighs, suddenly locking his arms around them, scooting you closer to him, now sitting on his chest.

“Javi, what are you-” You protested, taking a second to realize what Javi was prompting you to do.

“Wanna take care of you, sweet girl.” He rasped, continuing to pull you closer towards him, now sitting on him near his collarbone, as he cut you off.

“Are you sure, Jav?” You asked, biting down on your lip, looking down at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his gaze, a devilish smirk stretching across his lips. “I’m always worried I’m gonna suffocate you when we do this.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Baby, if I die between your thighs from you sitting on my face, I’ll die a fucking happy man. Please?”

“Okay, okay.” You nodded, letting out a little, breathy laugh as Javi tugged you one last time, your already dripping heat hovering over his face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced yourself on the edge of the couch, grasping at the cushions.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You whined, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. Your body went slack, draping your upper half over the edge of the couch as you felt Javi scoot out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed back up at you.

“Goddamn, Hermosa. Fucking soaked me. That feel good, pretty girl? You want more?” You nodded frantically at him, still at a loss for words as your chest heaved with each shaky breath. Gently grabbing your waist, he shifted you down so your back laid buried in the comforters and head rested against a pile of pillows, planting soft kisses down your body as he quickly pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock, its tip already dripping with precum, staining the fabric of the pants and underwear it had been straining against. He reached down, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, already soaked with your slick from your last orgasm, before slowly pressing inside you, letting you savor every inch of his length buried deep inside you. His hips flushed against yours as he bottomed out, his fullness stretching you open with the sweet sting that had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. “Always so wet for me, Osita. Fuck, I can’t believe this perfect fucking pussy is mine forever. You’re mine forever.” He mewled, slowly pulling himself back before pressing deep inside you again, each stroke making you feel even fuller than the last.

“Forever.” You whispered back, your voice trembling as his cock pushed further into your cunt, practically hearing the lewd noises of wetness between the both of you as he thrusted in and out. Sitting back on his heels, Javi hooked his arms under your legs, pressing them to your chest, gently rubbing circles against your already throbbing clit before sinking back into you, the stretch of the new angle and added sensation of his fingers making you whine as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingernails digging into your back. “Fuck, Javi. You feel so big, fuck, it feels so good.”

“Fuck me.” Javi hissed, the rhythm of his hips hitting yours beginning to become more rapid and desperate as he watched you writhe under him. “You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Gonna be a perfect wife, a perfect mom, fuck- I can’t wait to marry you, live in our house- oh shit- Fill it with our kids. Fuck, te lo daré todo (I’ll give you everything).”

Everything was making your mind go blank- his words, his fingers rubbing against your clit, his cock pounding into you, over and over in the spot that had you seeing stars. The coil in your belly began to build as Javi buried his face in the nape of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy on your skin. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his length, your heart beating fast as your orgasm began to build with each push and pull out of your heat. “I know you’re close, baby. Give it to me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Gonna fuck myself so deep inside you, shit, can’t wait until I can fuck a baby into you, wish I could make myself stick, fucking get you pregnant right now.”

Just like that, something inside you snapped, your body tensing as you felt yourself squeeze around Javi’s dick, soaking him as your orgasm ripped through you. A string of expletives and his name fell from your mouth, your brain short circuiting from the overwhelming intensity, sobbing into his shoulder as you came. It wasn’t long until Javi was close behind you, rapidly chasing his own high as he pounded into your heat, dripping with your slick. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Meirda- so wet and tight for me. Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, holy- ahhhhhhh.” Javi gritted his teeth as he thrusted one last time, spilling deep in your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop as he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ…” You laughed to yourself under your breath, reaching up to run your hand through Javi’s curls, dark and damp as they stuck to his forehead. “Javi, if you keep saying shit like that when we fuck, I am gonna end up pregnant before we get married.”

“And that would be a bad thing because…” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss against your lips, feeling his grin on your mouth.

“Javi!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and playfully swatting at his bare chest as he hovered over you, gently twisting his fingers through the messy ends of your hair. “We have talked about this! Once we’re married and the house is all the way finished, then I’ll toss my birth control in the trash. But until then, you’re really making it work unpaid overtime, you menace. I hate to break it to you, but keeping your dick inside me isn’t gonna do anything for you right now.”

“Like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, the both of you letting out a little hiss at the loss of Javi being buried inside you, feeling the mixture of your spend drip down your thighs as he laid back down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest, hiking your leg up over his hip. “I’m just saying, Osita, Christmas is only a few days away, you could just throw it away early and-”

“JAVI!” You scolded him, giggling as he raised an eyebrow at you, giving a little shrug. “You will get plenty of other presents. That one’s gonna have to wait, as much as I don’t want to either. The house should be done right around the same time as the wedding anyways, so you won’t even have to wait that long.”

The two of you had very easily decided that you didn’t want a big wedding by any means, bringing Chucho endless amounts of joy when you had asked him if you could have your celebration at the Peña ranch. The thought was the first thing that came to both you and Javi’s minds- something small and simple, really only wanting your close friends and family to join you on your big day in a place that held such importance to the both of you. While you and Javi had agreed that you would have married each other tomorrow, you had compromised with the middle of June, giving you a few weeks after the school year had finished to let you have some time to prep or plan anything else that needed to happen, without the end of the year school stressors on top of it.

After working with Javi’s cousin, Danny, (who finally received your finalized floor plans a few days ago after finally compromising on your bedroom count), he was able to guess that given that the winter was normally less busy for him and his crew, he would also hopefully have the house done by mid to late June, planning to have the majority of the work completed after you came back from your Honeymoon, you and Javi offering to finish up any last touches that he wouldn’t be able to get to after you returned.

While the both of you had agreed that you would wait until you were married before your birth control prescription was canceled, never to be seen again, you managed to talk some sense into Javi, telling him the house needed to be finished before you started trying, God forbidding that something went wrong, leaving you who knows how pregnant in an unfinished house. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped Javi from the moment that ring went on your finger to play into just how badly he was ready to give you the family you deserved, making it very hard for the both of you to stick to your plan.

“I know, I know.” He sighed contently, picking your arm up, draping it over his chest so he could play with the ring on your finger, delicately thumbing at the stone and gold band. “Knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you is the only fucking Christmas present I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.”

“You’re really trying to make your way back onto the Nice List, huh?” You giggled, biting down on your lip as you reached up to grab Javi’s face, giving it a little shake. “You’re all I’ll ever need, too, Javi.” A cheeky smirk spread across your face as you looked up at Javi, pressing a hot kiss against the skin of his neck before you spoke. “I gotta shower and clean this mess up, you wanna come with me and hang out on the Naughty List just a little bit longer?”

“I’d take coal in my stocking any fucking day for you.”

Someway or another, you managed to make it through the last two days of school, bribing your class with more play time, recess, and movies than you’d like to admit. You and Javi were planning to spend the second half of your break with your family in Chicago, giving you two a few days to celebrate your first Christmas in Laredo together, now that you were on break. You had agreed to spend Christmas Eve celebrating with Chucho, the 3 of you gathering at the Peña ranch in the afternoon, offering to help Javi’s dad with chores around the farm since he had graciously given everyone else the day off to spend with their families. It took no convincing on your end to go out and help Javi feed the animals, one of your favorite chores on the farm, especially when it came to the cows.

“I can’t believe how big they are.” You cooed, scratching one of the not so baby cows you had met for the first time a few months ago along its nose, giggling as it gave you a little lick.

“They don’t stay little and cute for very long.” Javi chuckled, throwing the last bale of hay over the fence into one of the troughs, wiping his hands along his plaid shirt before resting his arm around your waist, standing next to you as you continued scratching and petting the rest of the cows that had gathered looking for attention.

“Excuse you? They are still incredibly cute! Apologize to these sweet babies!” You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your chest as you swatted at Javi.

“Hermosa, they’re cows. They’re loud and annoying once they’re full grown, and last time I checked, I don’t think they can understand what I’m saying.” He laughed as you looked back at him with fake disgust, taking a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Before you could argue back, one of the cows let out a long, loud mooooo, pointed in Javi’s direction, turning to look back at the cow before looking back at Javi.

“I think that’s cow for fuck you, I am cute.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded back at the cow.

“Whatever, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at you as the two of you grabbed the rest of the feed buckets, heading back to the truck.

The two of you finished your rounds and you and Javi made your way back to the house to find Chucho humming away in the kitchen, chopping and dicing up vegetables to throw into his simmering pot of broth for the Pozole he had promised Javi for their Christmas Eve meal.

“Chucho, do you think that cows are cute?” You questioned, kicking off your shoes at the door, Javi following behind, shaking his head. Chucho chuckled to himself, wiping his hands along his worn apron before picking up his wooden spoon to stir his stew.

“Why are you asking?” He asked, looking over at you as you made your way into the kitchen, popping a leftover piece of pepper into your mouth, talking between chews.

“Because your son doesn’t think they are, and had the audacity to tell the cows to their face they were, in fact, not cute.” You glared over at Javi, trying to hold back your laughter as you pretend to be stern.

“They’re cute when they’re little but once you have to deal with them every day, full grown, they’re a pain in the ass.” Javi sighed, following behind you, sneaking between you and his dad to take down some bowls out of the cabinet, setting them on the table.

“That is because Javier never pays attention when he walks through the pasture, and always ends up with a boot full of cow shit. I think they are cute, Mija. Not as cute as some other animals, or as cute as human babies…” He paused, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, smirking. “But yes, still cute.”

“Told you so. You can’t blame the cows for your shit shoes, that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest before grabbing spoons and napkins to set down next to the bowls Javi had placed. “Do you need help with anything else, Chucho? It smells delicious, I’m glad your cow bashing son requested it tonight.”

“Cabrón (asshole).” Javi groaned. “Mamá would always make pozole and tamales for everyone on Christmas eve. She would put all of the cousins to work kneading the dough and assembling the tamales. She would hold the piñata hostage until we helped her finish, which I can’t blame her for. Her tamales were delicious, but I always think about having her pozole and eating a shit load of candy before crashing on the couch trying to stay up, waiting for Santa when I think about Christmas.”

“Before Lucia died, every year we would host our whole family here for Christmas eve. Dios Mio, there must have been 30 crammed in here each year, singing and dancing, making more tamales than anyone could count. No matter how hard he tried, Javier would always be the first to fall asleep on the couch, and we would have to carry him to bed. I think he would get so excited he would wear himself out.” Chucho smiled, turning off the stove, bringing the pot of the pozole to the kitchen table, the two of you pulling out a chair to take a seat.

“She sounds like she was such a fun lady. I wish I could have met her. And eaten her tamales, because I bet that they were amazing.” You beamed, looking over at Chucho and Javi, Javi now settling into the seat next to you, draping his arm over the back of your chair as Chucho stayed standing, letting out a content sigh as he placed a hand on his hip.

“Well Mija, I was planning on giving your Christmas gift to you later, but now that you bring it up, now seems as good a time as any.” Chucho smirked, waddling his way over to the living room, as you and Javi glanced at each other in confusion, waiting for his return. A few moments later, Chucho was back, carrying a small, red package with a white ribbon wrapped around it, outstretching it towards you.

“Chucho, you didn’t have to get me anything, I-” You protested, not accepting the gift until Chucho was sliding it across the table, placing it right in front of you.

“It is a gift for both of you. I know that Lucia would have been so thrilled to know how happy you have made our Javier. How happy you have made both of our lives. She would have loved you so dearly, hija, and would have wanted you to have these as you and Javier start your own family.” Tears welled behind Chucho’s eyes as you carefully took the package in your hands, resting it between you and Javi as the both of you gently ripping away the wrapping paper and bow to reveal what was inside Chucho’s gift. You held a small, leather bound book between you two, Chucho gesturing to have you open it to see what was inside. As you flipped back the cover, you revealed the first page, a picture of a young Lucia in the very same kitchen the 3 of you found yourself in, smiling at the camera as she stirred a pot of something on the stove, apron tied around her waist. Below the photo were bold, shaky cursive letters, reading “Lucia’s Recipes.”

“Pops…” Javi whispered in shock, delicately touching the page, gazing up at his dad.

“Your mamá would have wanted you to have all of them. She always told me that she couldn’t wait for the day she could have a daughter to share all of her cooking secrets with. She would have been even more excited to share them with you Mija, knowing the wonderful woman that you are.”

Carefully turning the page, you could feel your lip quiver as you looked at Chucho, feeling how watery your eyes were now becoming. “Chucho, this is- I don’t- thank you, Chucho. This is so special. I’m honored you want them to share them, I- I know how important these are to your family.”

“You are family, hija.” Handing the book off to Javi, you pushed up out of your chair, making your way over to Chucho to wrap him in a tight hug, Chucho quickly reciprocating, squeezing you back.

“Thank you, Chucho.” You whispered into his shoulder, trying your best to keep from sobbing as Javi pushed out of his chair, joining the both of you in a group hug, holding the two people he loved most in the world in his broad grasp.

“Thanks, Pops.”

“Los amo a los dos (I love you both).” Chucho sniffed, pulling away to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now, let’s eat this pozole, I can hear Lucia yelling at me for letting it start to go cold.”

The 3 of you spent the rest of your night full of pozole, Javi finishing off at least 3 bowls as you talked at the kitchen table, sharing stories of your favorite holiday traditions and memories. Chucho broke out at least 4 different photo albums to share photos of Christmases past, filled with lots of ones of an adorable Javi and his bright, toothy grin as he opened up presents. Chucho was thrilled with the present you and Javi had gotten for him- a new work jacket for out on the ranch, Javi noting that he probably was still wearing the same jacket he did when Javi was first born.

You and Javi had insisted that you let Chucho help you clean up around the kitchen after making you dinner, practically having to force him to sit down in his chair to relax while the two of you got to work collecting and cleaning dishes in the sink. You got to work washing as Javi dried, taking time to turn on the radio in the kitchen, raising the volume as he tuned in to the local station that had been playing nothing but Christmas music for the past week. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” began playing from the speakers, immediately beginning to sing along, swaying your hips, scrubbing the last of the pots and pans. Javi snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back.

“Dance with me.” He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to spin you around, making you giggle as your sponge splashed in the sink, playfully drying your wet hands against his flannel before interlacing one of your hands with his, the other one resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his free hand around the small of your back. The two of you gently swayed in the dim light of the kitchen, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra’s voice humming in the background.

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more.

As the sweet and syrupy melody of the song played on, Javi held up his hand, prompting you to spin under his outstretched arm before pulling you back in, resting his hand on your back, the other holding your face as he dipped you down, his lips curled in a tender grin against yours as he leaned in to kiss you.

Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

“I love you, Osita.”

“I love you more, you dork.”

You rested your head on his chest, smiling into the worn fabric of his button up, soaking up the sweet simplicity of the moment- how right then and there, it felt like there was no one in the world but the two of you, slow dancing in Chucho’s kitchen, arms wrapped tight around the man you loved. It felt like holding everything you’d ever need. Everything you’d ever want. It felt like holding your home.

If there was one thing you were not, it was patient, especially when it came to waiting. You never had been, and at this point in your life, you were very much convinced you never would be. Ever since you could remember, you were always the first one up in your house on Christmas, frantically waking up your parents and brothers to let them know presents were stacked under the tree at an ungodly hour, forcing your parents to implement the “If you don’t stay in your bed until 6 A.M. you won’t get any of your presents” rule to try and save some ounce of their sanity for the chaos that ensued after the 4 of you were really wide awake. Even as an adult, you couldn’t help but wake up giddy on Christmas, feeling as bright eyed and bushy tailed as you did all those years ago as a kid. While Javi was very aware of your love for Christmas, he wasn’t aware of the fact that it meant that you would be wide awake, waiting for him to wake up this early in the morning.

“Merry Christmas!” You squealed, trying your best to contain your excitement as you watched Javi finally begin to stir, his sleepy curls peeking out from under the covers, eyes squinting and blinking heavily as he let out a big yawn, draping his arm over your waist, half awake.

“Good morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, practically still asleep. “What time is it?”

“6:45…” You replied, grimacing sheepishly, wincing at the early hours plastered on your alarm clock. “You can go back to sleep if you want to, sorry if I woke you up.”

“6:45? Jesus, how long have you already been up for, Osita?” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows, running his hands through the messy ends of his hair.

“Not that long…” You muttered, looking away from him, hoping it would deter him interrogating further. Javi said nothing- he only cocked his head to the side and stared with that look he gave you when he knew you were hiding something, knowing damn well his tired, puppy dog eyes would pull the truth out of you. “Fine…” You huffed, turning back to him. “I’ve been up since 6.”

“6 in the morning? Jesus Christ, hermosa.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lay against his bare chest. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell have you been doing since you got up?”

“I made coffee, took a giant shit after I drank the coffee, turned on the lights to the Christmas tree, put Christmas music on in the living room, and then I came back to bed and I’ve been trying to read while I was waiting for you to wake up.”

Javi could do nothing but let out an amused sigh as he pressed a long kiss into the top of your head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“You’re the one who proposed.” You sassed back, holding your ring in Javi’s face, a playful smirk growing across your face before giving him a little poke on his chest. His response to your witty remark was grabbing you by the waist, flipping you on top of him as he tickled your sides, pecking quick kisses along your body, making you flail and squirm as you erupted with giggles. “Let go, pendejo! You’re gonna end up with a black eye for Christmas if you don’t stop!”

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned, releasing you from his grasp, giving you a little shove. “Alright, well I’m fucking awake now.” Reaching his arms over his head, Javi let out another loud yawn.

“I made you coffee.” You shrugged, trying to provide at least a little peace offering to him for your early morning wake up.

“I’d fucking hope so.” The two of you laughed as you shuffled out of bed, Javi lazily throwing on a t-shirt and pajama pants before you both wandered out of the bedroom, you at a much quicker pace than Javi.

As much as Javi wanted to give you a hard time about your over exaggerated enthusiasm this early in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as he walked into the living room, seeing you sit curled up on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee, beaming at Javi as Christmas music played softly in the background, the walls dimly lit by the twinkling lights of tree, being hit with the realization that every Christmas for the rest of his life, would be a Christmas spent with you.

“For you.” You smiled, holding out Javi’s mug, steam dancing off the top of the bitter brown liquid. “My family always opened presents before we did anything else, but if you have something else that your family always did, or you don’t want to, we can-”

“Osita, I know you wanna open presents first, it’s okay.” Javi snickered, kissing your forehead before you shot up off the couch, running over to the tree to grab one of the several neatly wrapped boxes stacked beneath it.

“Okay, thank God, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait any longer to give you your gifts.” Hurrying back over to the couch, you placed your boxes on Javi’s lap, snuggling back up next to him as he began to tear away at the wrapping paper of the smallest package.

“You don’t have any photos on your desk, so I figured I’d get you one. That way you can stare at my ugly mug all day long.” You joked, nodding toward the picture frame Javi was holding with a picture from your cousin’s wedding a few months back.

“Shut up. Thank you, I do need more pictures of us in my office, and you look so hot in this picture.” He smirked, giving you a little nudge before picking up the next gift in your pile. “Thank you, Osita.”

“Says the one who’s in the fucking tuxedo in that photo.” You rolled your eyes, watching Javi shake the wrapping paper off the next box.

“Fuck, I’ve been needing new boots. Thank you, Osita, these are so nice.” Javi grinned, holding up the dark leather shoes, letting the bottom of the box drop to the floor.

“I know you have, and you refuse to buy yourself new ones, so I figured I’d upgrade them for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, wondering how he’d ever convince himself that he wasn’t just as stubborn as you.

“Jesus, this is heavy.” He laughed, working away at the wrapping to reveal a plain, cardboard box, giving you a confused look.

“It didn’t come in a box and I couldn’t wrap it how it was. I promise you your first gift isn’t a heavy cardboard box.” The two of you laughed as Javi tore the tape holding the top together, digging through the tissue paper, eyes going wide at the contents of the box.

“Osita…” He warned, pulling out the bottle of his favorite Texas branded whisky he would only order for himself on nice occasions, knowing 1- how hard it was to find, and 2- that it was not cheap.

“Don’t even try to start with me. It’s Christmas and I love you and you deserve all the nicest things in the world. I know how much you love this stuff, even though it tastes like pure gasoline, and that you would never buy it for yourself.” You smirked, grabbing under his chin, squeezing his cheeks.

“Thank you, Osita. Where the hell did you find this stuff?” Javi looked at the bottle in disbelief, examining it before setting it carefully back on the ground.

“Steve knew a guy.” You shrugged, only pausing for a moment before pushing yourself off the cushions, only to be stopped by Javi’s grasp around your wrist, pulling you back down.

“These are all perfect, baby. Thank you so much. You're too good tot me. My turn.” Javi grinned, grunting as he got up off the couch, looking through the boxes to find the one he wanted, snatching it up and handing it over to you, immediately beginning to shed the box of its paper. “If you don’t- if you don’t like it or don’t want it, that’s okay, but I figured-”

“Javi, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.” Taking a pause from your unwrapping, you reached over to give Javi’s knee a squeeze, smiling at him before shuffling the lid off the top of the long box. “Oh no way! Are you serious?!” You squealed, holding up the emerald green and black Dallas Stars hockey jersey. “Javi, what the fuck, this is so cool! Thank you!” You dropped the jersey in your lap, leaning over to give him a tight hug.

“Thank god, I was worried you were gonna be pissed it wasn’t a Blackhawks jersey, but I think you already have 2 here, and like 3 more at your parents house, so I figured, you might like one for the Stars, too.” Javi sighed, relieved that his gift wasn’t about to stir up any unwanted hockey tensions.

“I will wear it every game, except for when we play the Blackhawks- Then I will bury it deep in the closet.” You giggled, picking it back up to stare at it, oblivious to the fact that Javi had already gotten up again to get you another gift.

“These two go together.” He smiled, handing you over the much smaller box as you tilted your head in confusion. You quickly unwrapped the second box, a smaller version of the box for your jersey you had just opened. Still unsure of how something so tiny could go with your new jersey, you suspiciously lifted up the lid, your jaw dropping as you saw what was inside. “Holy fuck, Javi, are you serious?!” You gasped, pulling two tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Chicago Blackhawks game, clutching them like you couldn’t believe they were real. Taking a second to actually read the ticket, your mouth gaped even further. “Jav, holy shit, these seats are-”

“Against the glass.” Javi smirked, watching your eyes dart back and forth between the tickets and his smug grin.

“But what about- how are we, wait- wouldn’t we have to-“ you mumbled to yourself, trying to process the gift while figuring out the logistics of getting to and from a night game in Dallas from Laredo.

“I’ve got it all taken care of. The game is on Friday in February, the other 3rd grade teachers said they would do whatever to help you take that Friday off, our flight leaves at 2, we land in Dallas at 3:30, and I have a hotel booked for Friday and Saturday. Figured we could make a weekend of it.”

“Javi- You can’t- Javi this is too much- baby, are you serious?” You whispered, breath shaky as you looked up at his beaming face, leaning in to kiss you.

“I can, and I will. You deserve it. Merry Christmas, Osita. There’s one more thing.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, grabbing one last present from under the tree and setting it in your lap.

“Javier Peña, you do not need to get me anything else, I swear to God-” You protested, giving Javi a stern look as you stared at the present in your lap.

“It’s not anything big, I saw it when I got the jersey and couldn’t help myself. Just open it, please?” He sighed, picking it up and bringing it even closer to you.

“Okay, okay.” You shook your head, quickly tearing away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath. Lifting the lid, you dramatically rolled your eyes at Javi as you lifted up the red, lacy, lingerie that was tucked away in the tissue paper it had been delicately folded under. “This looks a lot more like a gift for you than a gift for me, Mr. Peña.” You laughed, giving Javi a playful nudge.

“Well, if you put it on and let me unwrap you like the pretty little present you are, I’m sure I can find a way to make it a gift for the both of us.” Javi rasped, leaning over to nip at the exposed skin of your neck, making you let out a breathy moan, before coming to your senses, immediately darting up off the couch towards your bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asked, laughing at you as you sped off, lingerie in your hands.

“Changing so you can unwrap your last present!” You winked, wiggling the lacy outfit in the air before ducking into the bedroom. “Hey!” You shouted, your voice slightly muffled from behind the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head back out.

“What, hermosa?” Javi laughed, awestruck smile glowing across his face as he stared at you.

“I love you, Javier Peña. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Osita. I love you more.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @deppydelta @beware-my-thorns

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mixtape-racha · 6 months

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the drug in me is you | choi beomgyu

words: 3.94k // warnings: rockstar!beomgyu x bandmate!reader, vocalist!beomgyu, bassist!reader, friends to lovers, angst, lots of plot, harboured crush, crying, l-bombs, confessions, emotionally intelligent but stunted beomgyu, mentioned jeongin and heeseung as band members, me not knowing how to end a fic lolz

everytime, without fail, when you came offstage after a gig, you’d be met by the grinning face of beomgyu bouncing around the green room. genuinely, every single time without fail. it became a routine, a reaction you expected. and it was so, so fucking endearing. the way his eyes would shine, running around thanking and congratulating all of the other band members and the backstage team. the way he preened under praise, the way he giggled when he got told he did well.

sometimes it confused you - how was that the same man who was on stage a mere 5 minutes ago, dark and seductive as he sang sweet words to harsh melodies, who had women throwing themselves at his feet for just a second glance? but at the end of it all, he was always your beomie. the same short and skinny kid who was paired with you for a project in 8th grade and you hadn’t been able to get rid of since. the same kid who held you through your first heartbreak, and held you even tighter as you sobbed at your first gig together. the same kid who told you he couldn’t be in a band without you, because there’s no one else he’d rather have beside him on stage, playing bass so beautifully.

yeah, he was your beomie, and nothing could change that. not even all the groupies begging for a moment alone with him, nor the constant shipping of him with random celebrities online. while you weren’t a couple, or even close, those who knew you knew that he would always be yours, and you would always be his.

until he wasn’t. until one of the groupies that had been following your band for a while managed to get beomgyu wrapped around her finger. they weren’t dating - by no means was beomgyu looking for a relationship with her, but he could’ve fooled you. your smoke sessions in the back of the tour bus after a show soon became non-existent, beomgyu opting to take his favorite groupie to a nearby hotel instead, only waltzing back to the bus at the last possible second before you needed to leave to head to your next venue.

for a while you pinned your annoyance down to his unprofessionalism, pissed off that he would put a random girl before the career you had both worked so hard for. but after a while, you began to realize it wasn’t about her at all. it was about you. you felt neglected by your best friend, someone you’d had by your side for so many years. and it stung, especially knowing how much you’d sacrificed for him over the years.

it all came to a head at the final show of your tour - the exceedingly impulsive flirting between all of the band members, the bottles of beer being drunk on stage giving you all that final confidence boost you needed. the screams of fans, the cheering as you finished your set and said your goodbyes. all four of you were ecstatic, but even the other members were sick of beomgyu’s constant abandonment given their reactions.

“right, well, i guess you’re off for the night now, beom? we’re probably gonna go back to the bus and smoke anyway.” jeongin asked, face hard as he anticipated beomgyu’s reaction.

“actually,” beomgyu sneered, sick of everyone’s disapproval of his actions - it wasn’t like he was the only person in history to fuck a groupie. “was gonna take us all out for drinks, but fuck the lot of you.”

you were mad at beomgyu. you really were, and you shouldn’t fall back into his web so easily. but after knowing him so long, that’s exactly what you did, time and time again.

“i don’t really fancy smoking tonight, i’ll come find a bar with you, beomie.” you smiled, ignoring heeseung rolling his eyes in your peripheral vision. however, beomgyu looked elated, quickly pulling you into a half-hug.

“see? my girl’ll never let me down.”

god you hated the way your body reacted to that. but nonetheless, you wandered out of the venue with beomgyu, fixated on finding a bar nearby that wouldn’t be overrun with people who had left your gig earlier. that was the difficult part - because as much as you loved your fans, you didn’t want to be overrun with people when you were trying to have a chill night. you were real people too.

luckily, it wasn’t hard to find a quiet bar on the outskirts of the area surrounding the venue. you were quick to grab a stool near the bar, fluttering your eyelashes at beomgyu as you told him that if he really loved you, he’d buy you a drink. that was a routine with the pair of you - even though every single time, beomgyu was going to buy your drink anyway.

but this time it was slightly different. it was kind of awkward between the two of you. the first time in a few weeks you’d been alone, not having your best friend torn away from you by an over-excited groupie. and nothing could go your way, could it? because you’d barely started your second drink before lo-and-behold - your least favorite groupie wandered into the bar, eyes instantly fixated on beomgyu.

your heart hammered in your chest, anger overtaking you. had he arranged to meet her here? was he going to leave you to go and fuck her? well, not if you left first. pushing the stool back harshly, the scraping of the feet on the floor making beomgyu wince, you grabbed your bag, fumbling to shove a cigarette in your mouth.

“i’m going for a smoke. let me know when hanging out with me is more important than a cheap fuck.” you sneered, not giving him a moment to respond before you were stomping out of the bar. you knew you were probably being dramatic, but you were beyond caring in that moment.

why else would she be in that bar, of all the bars nearby? was it not enough when beomgyu had her in a new hotel room every night of the tour? was she convinced they were together now? or worse… were they actually together?

you just couldn’t believe the audacity of beomgyu! he hadn’t even followed you out to make sure you were okay, and that realization had you heading back in the direction of the tour bus, cigarette in hand. fuck beomgyu - you’d hang out with jeongin and heeseung instead. they were always fun to get high with - you could get a pizza and watch coraline, like last time you all got stoned together.

you hadn’t got further than twenty feet before you heard a call of your name, turning on your feet to see beomgyu running from the bar to catch up with you, calling out for you to wait. it stung, in all honesty, and you didn’t even want to hear him out. but you knew he wouldn’t give up until you had, so it was probably better to get it over with.

stamping your cigarette out, you folded your arms as he came to a halt in front of you, panting slightly.

“what the fuck was that about?” he wheezed, brows furrowed in confusion. “why are you leaving? we just got here! i don’t get why you’re in a shitty mood all of a sudden!”

you scoffed at his words, a sneer on your face. “aren’t you leaving someone behind, gyuie?” you spat out the nickname you’d heard the infamous groupie giggle at him so many times. “i’m sure she’s waiting for you to drag her to the nearest hotel. can’t fuck her on every tour stop and leave out the last one, can you?”

beomgyu’s face hardened at that, and you couldn’t believe the audacity he had to get annoyed at you.

“is that why you’re throwing a bitch fit? seriously, y/n, we all sleep with fans. i don’t get why its such a big deal— i didn’t complain when you brought that poser back to the tour bus last year!”

you were enraged at his tone. how dare he try and flip this on you? shaking your head at him, you took a step away, ready to leave.

“thats not the problem, gyu. the problem is that you’ve completely abandoned m- us. you’ve abandoned us all tour for some pussy you’ll forget in a month.”

“abandoned?!” he spluttered, your words catching him off-guard. “i haven’t abandoned anyone!”

“when was the last time you hung out with us after a show, beomgyu? the last time you sat with us and told us all we did a good job, that it was a good show and you enjoyed it? when was the last time you hung out with me?” you voice raised in pitch as your feelings came tumbling out. “i’m your best friend. at least i’m supposed to be! we haven’t hung out at all, and i miss it. i miss you. you’re neglecting me, and its not fair for me to put all the effort it. i can’t do it anymore!”

when you were met with stunned silence, you continued walking away, not wanting to see his response or hear his excuses. you just wanted to get back to the bus, sleep and go home in the morning. take a break. maybe go on holiday - spend some time with yourself. if beomgyu wasn’t willing to reciprocate your energy, maybe you weren’t supposed to be best friends for life after all.

you couldn’t help the way tears built in your eyes, beginning to roll down your face. after all these years, all it took was a girl to rip beomgyu away from you. not even a girlfriend, just a girl who he enjoyed keeping around for a few hours and then leaving to come running home. god… you were a mess. you shouldn’t be this upset about it. its not like you were in love with him.

oh… oh god.

you stopped in your tracks, heart thumping in your chest. was that the issue? were you harboring feelings towards beomgyu that you never wanted to admit to yourself? god, why did this have to be happening to you? it was why you’d go to the ends of the earth for him, why you supported all his dreams and bad decisions. why you would drop all your plans for him in a heartbeat. god, you were fucked.

you swore you’d never walked back to the bus faster, waving jeongin and heeseung off when they questioned you on where beomgyu was. you were fast to crawl into your bunk, plugging in your headphones as the other boys began discussing what they believed beomgyu was doing - or, who he was doing.

it was hard to keep your tears silent, but you’d be damned if you let them see you so upset, so you tried your hardest. you didn't know when you fell asleep, or when beomgyu got back to the bus, but you were too emotionally exhausted to care.

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, or what time it was when you woke up. the bus had pulled into a service station for a rest stop, and you cringed as your joints cracked when you jumped out of your bunk. giving your manager a small wave, you rolled a cigarette, tucking a lighter into your pockets, and stepped off the bus into the sunrise.

“sleep good?”

you jumped, whirling around to see beomgyu perched on the floor next to the bus, rolling his own cigarette.

“guess so…” you mumbled, the lighter becoming more interesting by the second as you sparked up and took a much-needed drag of nicotine. it was hard to avoid beomgyu’s eyes, especially when they were boring into the side of your head, so you took the bait and perched on the floor next to him. “you sleep alright?”

he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “decent. would’ve slept better if i knew why my favorite girl was mad at me, though.”

the words fell out of his mouth so easily it made you feel nauseous. god, what was wrong with you? suddenly the world felt too loud, too bright. your chest tightened as you shook your head at him. words seemed to fail you, so you opted to rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around one of his.

“not mad, gyu. never mad. just…. disappointed? hurt? i dunno, i just felt a bit neglected.”

he sighed, and you mentally braced yourself for another yelling match, shoulders tense… but surprisingly it never came. instead beomgyu’s hand landed on your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly as he shook his head.

“i get it… n’i wanna say sorry for making you feel that way. guess i kinda got caught up in the moment, huh? if… if it helps, she knew from the start that as soon as tour was done i’d probably never see her again, and she was okay with it. got what she wanted, i guess.”

your heart ached at his words, even the thought of him seeing her making you feel physically sick. but you needed to push that aside, no matter what - you need beomgyu as a friend, and you couldn’t jeopardize that.

“we just missed you, that’s all. the bus got too quiet without you.”

after your heart-to-heart that day, you and beomgyu never brought up the infamous groupie again - it was irrelevant, because you fell straight back into your regular pattern. no tour, no schedules, so you got to do whatever you wanted. your managers had forced you into a break for the rest of the year - which, much to heeseung’s dismay, meant no studio sessions until the new year. after the year you’d had, you deserved the break, and your team would make sure you got it no matter the cost.

quite early into your careers taking off, you and beomgyu had decided to move in together - it meant less bills, split rent, and not having to worry about 2 homes while you were away touring the world. in hindsight, it wasn’t your best idea, and given how awkward you were in close proximity to him lately, part of you wished you could go back in time and never agree to moving into his house.

unfortunately for you, beomgyu wasn’t entirely stupid and was relatively quick to pick up on your unintentional avoidance of him - at least, it started off unintentionally anyway. the two fo you were supposed to go out tonight, meet a group of high school friends at a restaurant, but a mere 4 hours before you canceled. he didn’t even know at first - seeing your message pop up in the allocated groupchat and scanning it; the words “sorry” and “unwell” catching his eyes. you weren’t unwell in the slightest - he’d just heard you on the phone to your mom and you sounded absolutely fine.

he didn’t get a chance to confront you for about an hour, ambushing you in the kitchen when you finally left your room to grab a bottle of cola.

“unwell, huh? probably shouldn’t be drinking a soda and loading up on salty snacks, then, should you?”

you cringed upon hearing his voice, turning from the fridge to find him leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he studied your figure. there were two ways you could handle this - genuinely feign being unwell, earning the issue that he might stay at home to look after you if he believed you, or burst into tears on the spot. and being the eloquent person you were, you went for the latter option. not that you had much of a choice, seeing how beomgyu looked at you with a teasing smile on his lips but such care in his eyes.

those eyes widened as a sob suddenly racked your body, rushing over and hands scrambling to pull you into a hug. he didn’t know where this had come from, and he was baffled. had he missed something? all he did was tease you for your awful snacking habits like always.

“hey- hey, are you okay? i’m sorry if it sounded like i was accusing you– you’d just seemed so excited for this dinner lately!” his voice raised in pitch as he tried to comfort you, and it made you feel awful, another cry ringing through the kitchen.

“i’m so sorry, gyu-! just can’t do it, wanna go to bed, m’sorry-”

he shushed you so carefully, as if afraid you might break, and you almost can’t take it. you wrap your arms around him, unable to stop your cries and whimpers. its like all your emotions from the past few weeks have come tumbling out at once, and you have no way to stop them, and it terrifies you. what do you tell him when he asks why you’re upset? what do you tell him when he holds you close and tells you that you can trust him with anything, that he’ll do anything he can to help you?

“d’you want me to stay home? i– i can cancel, i don’t mind! we can just order in some food and watch some shitty movies, that always cheers you up? yeah?”

he sounded so painfully confused, and it sent a shiver down your spine. how much longer could you do this? how much longer could you live with him, work with him, share every aspect of your life with him, without telling him how you felt? deep down, you felt like you were betraying him by keeping it a secret. he cared so much about you, and always told you everything - like your opinion mattered most to him, and that your reactions alone could define how he acted on a daily basis.

“you don’t have to cancel, gyu. you can go, i don’t mind, i just… i can’t sit in a restaurant with all those girls fawning over you while i sit there like an idiot.”

subconsciously, you prayed that he wouldn’t read between the lines, not pick up on the true meaning of your words, but he was more emotionally intelligent than you gave him credit for. he pulled away from the hug, your face cupped between his large hands and his eyes studying you carefully.

“i’m going to cancel,” he said firmly, voice serious as he held you. “i’m going to message and cancel, and we’re going to have a night-in together, and we’re going to talk, okay?”

he planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he walked away, something he always did, but this time it felt different. he stopped when he reached the threshold back into the living room, turning to you with a soft smile on his face.

“go take a shower, okay? get in some comfy clothes, and i’ll meet you back here in about an hour.”

god knows that hour passed too quickly. you were so stressed the entire time that passed, overthinking in the shower, putting too many decisions into what comfy clothes to wear. why were you trying to impress him? there was no need, he was your friend about to sit down and have a serious chat with you. even as you took careful steps towards the living room, greeted by the sight of beomgyu sat on the couch under a blanket - harry potter loaded up onto the tv screen - your heart felt like it was beating so fast it might explode.

he didn’t seem to notice you until you sat, quick to toss you a blanket and gesture for you to sit closer.

“why are you being shy? come sit with me, stupid.” while his voice held its usual teasing tone, there was something else in it - something you didn’t recognize as you scooted across the cushion closer to your best friend.

he didn’t start the movie yet, hand dancing over the remote before pulling away and shifting in his seat to face you.

“you wanna talk? or d’you wanna order food and watch the movie first?”

you sighed softly, knowing no matter how much you wanted to put this off that you couldn’t do that anymore. so instead, you nodded, mimicking his position.

“i can tell you’ve figured it out, gyu. so just get this over with please?”

he hesitated for a second before nodding, fidgeting with his fingers.

“you like me, don’t you? as more than a friend.. and that’s why you’ve been acting so strange lately. i knew something was up when you started avoiding me, but it just took me a while to piece it all together. can i– can i just ask; how long? i wanna make sure i have everything straight in my head.”

“i think i always have, i just never realized it. i kind of,” you sighed again, words difficult to articulate. “i finally started being honest with myself at the end of tour– i just didn’t want to spring it on you and ruin our friendship, so i’ve been trying to force myself out of it. i really do like you, gyu, a lot. more than i’ve ever liked anyone, god, i think i’m in fucking love with you. i just didn’t want to risk our friendship or our careers.”

you teared up slightly as you finished speaking, the silence of the room deafening as beomgyu processed your words.

“i don’t..” he stopped, trying to figure out how to best voice his feelings, not wanting to hurt you at all. “i think i’ve always known we were supposed to be together. i like you - of course i do - and i’d be stupid if i didn’t say i’ve always found you attractive...”

you huffed at that, folding your arms around yourself and effectively cutting off his words.

“you can’t force yourself into reciprocating just for the sake of my feelings, gyu. honestly, i just need closure. i need you to reject me, tell me you only see me as a friend, so i can move on. i can’t keep torturing myself by being in love with you, its not fair.”

“y/n, please, just listen to me.” he pleaded, grasping your hands in his. you looked up at him when you heard the desperation in his voice, and your heart broke at the pain on his features. you didn’t realize by torturing yourself, you’d end up torturing him too in the process. god, you hated human emotions.

“y/n, i– i want to, okay? i want to love you, just as much as you love me. i know i’ve always been particularly inept when it comes to emotions, and healthy relationships, but i want to change. i just– i need time. i’m going to learn to love you, no matter what it takes, i’m going to work on myself and be who you deserve.”

you couldn’t help the tears that rolled down your face again, salty drops falling from your skin onto the material of the couch beneath you. but beomgyu wasn’t finished spilling all of himself, oh no. and what could you do except listen?

“its always been you, and i’ve been too immature to develop that. who else knows me better, hmm? i’ve been too wrapped up in this rock ‘n roll lifestyle, that i haven’t allowed myself to realize that everything meaningful has always been right here. will you… will you wait for me? will you let me learn? teach me how to love?”

“of course i will, gyu,” you sobbed, pulling a hand away from his to wipe away to wetness from your cheeks. “i’d wait forever for you, whether i wanted to or not.”

taglist: @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @hwangrimi @mari-18s-world @bgomtori @90steele @l0stindigo @banggyu0308 @takemehye @itstrashjustrash @bangtancultsposts @kangfication @breakmyheartlater @be0mgyulovrrr @gr4veb4be @yevene @watariisbestboy @zuzuhasablog @hearts4tubatu

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stilespeters · 8 months

Text

As it was

pairing: Kit Walker x fem!reader

a/n: This was one of my drafts that I finally managed to finish after like 6 months. Anyway its long as hell and I reread and revised it like 100 times. Send help

word count: 8298💀

summary: The relationship of you and Kit is put to the test when Kit is framed for the Bloodyface murders. Once he is let out from hell on earth, you two try and mend what's broken and reminiscence about the last night everything was still normal.

warnings: none really

3 months ago

“Something smells good mrs. Walker. I’m starvin’.” Kit closed the door and placed his car keys on the counter. You were standing near the dining table with your back towards the door, and as your head turned, you saw him remove his jacket.

“I made your favorite, lasagna.” his face lit up and he smiled as he walked towards you in your one story house.

“I made it with extra cheese, just how you like it.”

“You know me so well,”

He stood behind you and you felt his breath on your neck as his arms snaked around your waist, making you shiver and sigh. You have known him for a long time, but every time he touched you felt like the first time. His hands then moved to your shoulders and he massaged them while planting kisses in your neck.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he hummed as he wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head on your shoulder “Are you on the menu?”

“Nope.”

“Well that's too bad. Can’t I have you as first course?” his voice was low and his fingertips left trails of circles on your arm as he continued to trail kisses on your exposed neck. He had tried it many times before when he came back from work. He would tease you and before you knew it a small peck on the cheek turned into a make out session on the table. A little while after, your feet would inevitably dance to the bedroom.

There were multiple times where you had tried to resist, but Kit Walker was simply irresistible. This time however, you succeeded and you turned around to face him while holding his hands. “I thought you were starving, what about the food?”

He gave a cheeky smile while downcasting his gaze to your lips. “That’s not what I’m hungry for.”

You weren’t falling for his trap. You weren’t falling for his dark, half lidded and sultry eyes. You weren’t falling for his low sexy voice. You weren’t falling for his pink lips and sexy, tousled, golden brown hai-

Focus!

You had to get your mind out of the gutter and be strong.

“But the lasagna is gonna get cold.” his fingers danced on the skin of your arms, but he didn’t go further. “So we better make it quick.” He waited for your approval to go further.

Why did he have to make this so hard?

As he leaned down to kiss you, his lips barely grazed yours before you gently pushed his chest. His lips were pouted as he stared at you. “Mr Walker,” your voice became serious as you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms “First lasagna.”

“First lasagna.” he repeated and you smiled at that. He pulled the stool for you to sit down. It was something he always did, a small but sweet gesture.

When he took the first bite, he moaned and closed his eyes. “Everytime you make lasagna it gets tastier and tastier. It’s pure heaven.”

You took a bite of your own and your lips curled as you watched him. “So how was work?”

He went quiet for a second. “It was alright, the same as any other night. It was busy though.” He left out the part where Billy and his friends scared the crap out of him by stealing Al’s gun from the safe. Kit knew you weren't too fond of them. They were nothing but pure trouble. They were always trying to drag Kit along with them and clearly they didn’t understand or see the discomfort he projected.

Billy had also tried several times in the past to make advances towards you and Kit knew that you were uncomfortable. Even at the gas station he made a remark about giving you a visit when Kit was at work, and when Kit got mad, Billy said he couldn’t take a joke.

Just the thought of it made his blood boil.

“What about you? How was your day?”

You set down your fork and chewed the last bit of lasagna. “I cleaned the house, I did some reading in the garden, got some groceries for tomorrow and I watched My fair lady. I believe the name of the actress was Audrey Hepburn, I read an article about her. Lovely actress," you paused, “Oh and I fixed the shower.”

Kit looked up from his food and swallowed the piece of lasagna in his mouth. “Really? That's great.” Tonight, Kit was supposed to look at the shower which seemed to be defective, but you had spare time and decided to see for yourself. Turns out you were quite a handy woman.

“How did you fix it?”

“I tightened the loose pipes and the noise suddenly just stopped. It took me a while to figure out, but I had enough spare time.”

"Wow-" Before he could say anything else, you continued.

“-I also got the wine stain from your shirt.”

Kit smiled brightly at hearing what you did today and he felt proud that he was able to say that you were his girl. Not a lot of husbands can tell to their colleagues that their wife fixed the shower. He placed his hand on yours from across the table and drew light circles on your knuckles -something he always tended to do.

“What would I do without you.”

The corners of your mouth curled upwards at the sight of your husband’s excitement.

“Without me, you’d probably come home to an empty and quiet house after work,” you shrugged “Or to another woman’s arms.”

He grimaced at that and shook his head. “The thought of that makes me want to vomit.”

“Not over the food, please.”

He mimicked vomiting over the lasagna and you swatted his arm lightly as you gasped melodramatically. “Kitson Henry Walker, are you insulting my cooking?”

“Oh I wouldn't dare.”

“Good, because I don't take insults lightly.” You crossed your arms and tried to act serious, but Kit saw right through you and chuckled.

“Sure you do.”

You let out another playful gasp and sat back in your chair. “Excuse me? Without me you wouldn't get the privilege to taste the best food in Massachusetts.”

“Well luckily I don’t have to worry about a world without you.”

“You’re right. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a long time.”

“Dang it, that reeeaally sucks.” his lips were in a thin line and you couldn't help but break character and laugh. Shortly after, Kit joined in and together you ate the last bits of your lasagna.

As you looked at him while he ate your food, you felt like you were in a trance.

Your sister had told you once that you two were made for each other because you two shared the same interests, had the same humor, and basically were each other's equal. She had said it was almost creepy how perfectly you two were together.

However when you and Kit announced your engagement, your sister had told you how she had experienced her past marriage.

After being mrs. Walker for two weeks, she came over from California and had said that once the newlyweds phase was over, the relationship would falter quickly until it’s a repetitive bunch of torture until you both perish. She said nothing good lasts forever, and once everything feels perfect, something happens that breaks everything down.

She had promised you that a day would come where the passion that once burned like a forest fire, would quickly become smoke to ash.

You refused to believe it and you were right to do so. You were in a relationship for 5 years with Kit, having met when you were both 18 when Kit's friends introduced you to each other at Benny's barn. Ever since you made it official, the passion between the two of you had never once faltered. Not even a tiny bit.

You believed that nothing wrong could happen, and that even if something small happened, you’d still love him unconditionally. This man could do literally anything and you’d still love him. Him just breathing made you swoon. You were still as much in love with him as the day you first saw him.

When you both finished your food, you stood up to do the dishes. You always wanted to finish something immediately so you could have time to relax, but as your feet moved to the kitchen, Kit stopped you.

“Wait.” He stood up and walked to the door. You couldn't exactly see what he was doing as you tried to peek over his shoulder, but you heard the clear sound of a paper bag.

“I got you something.” You now noticed the paper bag in his hands and your heart melted. “Oh Kit, you shou-”

“-Before you decline my gift because your heart's way too good and you feel bad because you feel like you owe me, I saw this in the store in town and immediately thought of you. I had to buy it for you.”

“To what do I owe this?”

“Well, I came home just now and the most amazing woman to ever grace the earth made my favorite meal, plus she looks and smells amazing. I just couldn't find a better moment.” Your heart melted.

“My beautiful girl deserves everythin’.”

Your cheeks almost hurt from how wide your smile was. “I already got my everything in front of me.”

To that, he pressed his lips against yours and sighed heavenly before handing you the paper bag. You gave him a knowing look as he stared down on you in anticipation, and you opened it. When you saw the object in it, your eyes went big and you squealed in excitement.

“Oh my god, Kit. Is this what I think it is?” You had a sealed vinyl in your hand and Kit nodded happily as he took in your reaction.

It was a popular song that had just been released and was your favorite to sing along when it came on the radio. Kit had noticed how your face lit up and how you upped the volume every time you heard it in the car and so he decided to save up on the side to get it on a vinyl for you.

You immediately hugged him tightly before moving towards the phonograph and placing the vinyl in the holder. As the music filled the room, you swayed your head to the rhythm and walked back to Kit. “Thank you, I love it!”

He smiled widely and grabbed your hand as you spun around in the living room to the music. Kit sang along as he pointed a finger at you.

“Pretty woman, walking down the street. Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet. Pretty woman, I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth. No one could look as good as you.”

You had danced and twirled for a while, the dishes long forgotten, and the ends of your dress lifted as you twirled and twirled. Together you swayed to the rhythm and sang along.

As the song came to an end, Kit placed another vinyl that you got for him a few months ago for his birthday. Together you slowly danced to ‘At last’ by Etta James, and when you closed your eyes as you held on tight to him, you felt like nothing could tear you two apart.

Your cheek was pressed against his chest while his chin rested atop your head, and his hand was on your back whilst his other hand was tangled with yours. The music was soft, the black sky outside was contrasting with the lights, and the cold you felt just an hour ago when you were alone had been long forgotten the moment his eyes met yours from across the room.

You felt his heartbeat hammer at a rapid pace and when you looked up at him, you saw he was already smiling down at you. “Hi.” You whispered and he chuckled, the sound vibrating through your entire body.

“Hello gorgeous.” His eyes darted from your piercing eyes to your lips and he admired every detail of your face. At that moment he wondered how he was the one to end up with you. How he was the one to dance with you at this very moment. He didn't know how he got so lucky, but he was relishing and enjoying every second.

Oh how he wished he could stop time to stay like this forever.

You had noticed his eyes scanning you and you tried to find a reason as to why he was doing that. Before you could ask though, he already gave an answer.

“You are so beautiful.”

Your faces were close, but far away enough to see every detail. You could see the look of adoration and as you scanned his eyes, you couldn't find a sliver of doubt or falseness to his statement. The only thing noticeable was his expression that changed to a sly smirk as he leaned a bit down to whisper in your ear. “And hot.”

“I’m beautiful and hot?” You raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Mhm,” he leaned back and again, traced light circles on your lower back. “I don’t know if I want to tear off your pretty dress right now or take you to the finest restaurant in town. Perhaps both.”

“Is that a promise, Mr Walker?”

He simply stared into your soul and leaned down to try and kiss you. However, you placed a finger on his chest and had a smirk on your face, making his brows furrow in confusion.

“I’m sorry to inform you but I bought this dress just last week. Can't have you ruin it.”

"I'll do more than just ruin your dress." He concealed it as a joke but he was serious. You snorted and looked at you feet. "No but in all seriousness, I’ll buy you a new one.”

“As tempting as it sounds, I’d rather just shimmy out of it. We could go to a restaurant tomorrow though.”

He chuckled and put away a loose hair that fell in front of your face. “Orrrr, we could go to a restaurant every night so you never have to cook again.” You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and your lips were in a thin line as you stopped dancing.

“Kit.”

“Yes.”

“Are you insulting my cooking, again?”

“I wouldn't dare, miss. You make the best food in the entirety of Massachusetts.” He recited the words and you had a satisfying and proud smile.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He grabbed your hand and twirled you around, and as the song in the background came to the bridge, you went back to just slowly swaying to the music.

“By the way, I think you’re beautiful too.”

“I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful.” he mused as he recalled the hundred times you have called him handsome in his head.

“Now you have.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead before you pressed your cheek against his chest again, his hand cradling your head. As your head was faced to the side, you saw the newspaper you read this afternoon lay on the little table next to the chair.

“Oh by the way, I saw in the paper that tomorrow there will be shooting stars visible for us. Shall we go to the barn and watch em?”

“I’d love too,” He smiled, but then remembered that the barn was 30 minutes away if you took the fastest route. Taking the fastest route also meant that you had to walk by Billy’s house. It made Kit remind him that he had to get rid of Billy and his obnoxious friends.

“What's wrong?” You saw the creases in his forehead as he frowned. It looked like he was thinking hard about something.

Kit contemplated whether or not to say it to you, but he figured you should know what was happening. “Billy showed up again.”

Your eyes immediately widened “Kit-”

“-I know what you’re thinking, but calling the cops isn't gonna help. They're just gonna brush it off like last time. Billy and his group haven't committed a crime."

You let out deep sigh and bit the inner sides of you cheek. Kit held your hands and again, rubbed soothing circles. "Maybe it's time I confront them."

Your head snapped up to meet his eyes. "What? No, that's dangerous you know how Billy is. He is as violent as he is stupid and he doesn't know what 2+2 is. 'Talking' to him is equivalent to a fist fight."

"Perhaps you're right, but I know Billy since high school. He wouldn't go that far," He didn't sound that sure of himself "The sooner they are out of our lives, the less worry we have on our plates. I know Billy works at his father's 5 and 10 store. I can pay him a visit after my own shift at the gasstation." He saw that you weren't buying it. "You hate confrontation as much as I do." You answered and Kit sighed.

"Billy is the ringleader, once I talk to him all the others will go away as well. They can’t keep bothering us, it has to stop. Clearly ignoring them isn't gonna help.” You continued to stare at him blankly before you looked away. You didn't like the idea one bit. However, Kit knew Billy and you didn't. Perhaps Kit was actually right. "Baby," Kit placed his finger on your chin and made you look at him again. "It makes me feel like I can't protect my own family."

You had a gnawing feeling in your gut. You didn't want to see him get hurt, but you knew he was capable of handling the situation by himself. You hated that the police were useless in this situation and so you cursed softly. “Okay, fine, but I will kick him so hard if Billy or another one of his loser friends lay a finger on you.”

“Y/n-”

“No Kit, I don’t want anything happening to you, I don’t want to ever see you get hurt. You’re too valuable to me.”

Kit knew that arguing wouldn't progress the conversation so he nodded.

“Okay.” You were happy that Kit agreed, however just the thought of something going wrong and Kit getting bruised or worse clouded your mind. You didn’t notice it but your eyes were downcast on your feet and Kit placed a finger under your chin to lift your head up. “Hey, we’re still going to watch the stars tomorrow at the barn, I promise.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek and you held his wrists. “I better see you in one piece tomorrow unscathed, otherwise I’ll go to the barn myself.” You weren't actually gonna go to the barn on your own, especially at night. You just knew this was a way to make Kit extra careful. You knew he would never let you go in the dark alone.

Just like you had predicted, Kit’s face fell into worry.

“Y/n, promise me you won’t go to the barn on your own.” He almost pleaded.

One time when he was held back at work and returned home at 2 am on a winter night. He nearly lost his shit when he saw there was a note on the fridge. It said you went to the barn to watch the stars, and you would be back at 1, however you were nowhere to be seen. Turned out you fell asleep on the hay, and Kit was so worried something had happened to you he nearly fainted.

“Alright,” you said and Kit felt like a but was coming “I won't go to the barn myself, as long as you promise me you’ll get home in one piece. No bruises or anything else.”

He knew he couldn't promise that. He knew the way billy’s mind worked. He was unpredictable and so he knew there could be a chance Billy would try and punch him. But there was also a chance that he would actually listen. It was a 50-50 chance.

Kit wanted to promise you that he wouldn't get hurt, but he just knew that he couldn't. He had always been honest with you about everything. He wasn’t gonna lie today.

“I promise I’ll try to avoid a fight.” He pledged and even though it wasn't the answer you wanted, you knew that it was all he could promise for now.

“Then I won’t go to the barn by myself.”

He grabbed your shoulders firm but delicately. “Y/n,” he said in a very serious tone. “Promise you'll wait for me, okay? Promise.”

You nodded. "I'll wait for you” Kit seemed partly satisfied with the answer.

“Promise?”

“I’ll always wait for you. I promise." You solemnly swore.

Somehow it felt like he wasn't talking about the barn anymore.

“Speaking about promises…” You tried and you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face and you leaned closer as your hands were on his chest. Kit seemed to know what you were implying and chuckled whilst looking down at your lips. However when your mouth opened, he heard something different than what he expected to hear.

“Remember 3 years into our relationship you promised we’d get a barn on our own one day so we wouldn't have to walk that far to Benny’s barn? What about we start with that idea? In the next couple of weeks? Maybe we can get some animals. Maybe a dog or something.”

“That sounds like a lovely plan.” He leaned down and kissed you. “We’ll make that promise happen soon.”

“Alrighty.” You smiled.

Both Kit and you were still standing in the middle of the living room with the music still playing, and you just held him tight and hoped the song wouldn't end.

Kit was again, close to your ear and whispered again. It wasn’t like there was anyone around you and he was afraid they would hear, he just felt like it was intimate. “When you brought up the promise thing I actually thought you meant the other promise I made”

You decided to act dumb. “Mhm, I don’t know what promise you’re talking about.”

His hands moved to your hips and he had a tight but delicate grip. “I’ll make you remember.”

Before you could say anything, he cupped your cheek with his palms and pressed his lips against yours. Once he pushed you against the table, your hands moved under his shirt on his abdomen and you felt him tense and inhale deeply as your fingers trailed south. His hands were on your waist, and he encouraged you to jump so he could lift you up the table and stand between your legs.

As your hands moved to the back of his head, you gave a tug, earning a soft moan and you smiled amidst the kiss.

Kit wanted to stay in moments like these forever. Moments where he forgot that he was on earth. Because his lips against yours felt like a grace of heaven that only you could provide him.

However what he didn’t know was that this would be the last day where everything was like this; normal. Because just moments after you and him redressed yourselves while still feeling the aftermath of euphoria, his whole life was about to change.

He wasn’t going to see you again, for a very, very long time.

present time

Kit stared at what looked like a black pit in the tiny cell he stayed in. The lights were out, his back was turned towards the door and his only company was a mosquito flying somewhere near him and the yelling from other patients who were next door.

He felt like he was in an infinite loop of mental and physical torture. The longer he was here, the less sane he started to feel.

He tried to get a grasp on something stable, but nothing seemed to help him remember the good days. The only clear thing he remembered like it was yesterday, was the last day where everything felt normal. He replayed those moments over and over again whenever he was locked up in his small windowless room inside Briarcliff. He had closed his eyes and pictured your features whilst facing the gray concrete.

He remembered kissing your cheek before heading off to work. He remembered singing and dancing to there goes my baby in the gas station. He remembered the douchebag guy who threw his money on the ground before Kit’s feet. He remembered how Billy and his friends stopped by and asked him to jump a guy who messed with Randy’s little sister. He remembered how they grabbed the gun from Al's safe.

He remembered when he came home whistling the first thing he saw was your pretty dress, your red painted lips and the way your hair was perfectly styled. He remembered he couldn't take his gaze off of your eyes and how he fell in love with you every time he saw you.

He remembered dancing with you to the song he gifted you, and he remembered making love to you and the pretty sounds you made as you both longed for each other.

He remembered walking to the living room in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water when he saw a bright light from outside. He remembered running into your shared bedroom only to find you sound asleep and he remembered grabbing his shotgun and seeing something that could only exist in a sci-fi film.

He remembered the last look of pure horror on your face as he got dragged into a police car.

He remembered you.

But as the lonely nights passed and time seemed forgotten, he slipped away. He still remembered parts, but it often felt like your features were slipping from his mind. He was afraid that a day would come where he wouldn't be able to memorize what you looked like. He was afraid that a day would come where your voice was merely a whisper in his mind. He knew that if that day came, he was a gone man. Because the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that truly kept him on his feet was the thought that he might see you again. Even though he knew the chances were slim, as long as you were out there, he kept faith.

Deep down he knew that the love you bore for him didn't just evaporate the moment the police stood at the door. He knew that if the role was reversed, he’d wait for you. He was certain that he would wait forever without a second thought. The only thing he was uncertain about was if you thought the same.

Guess he was about to find out when his cell suddenly opened and light hit the room like rain falls and crashes from the sky.

The door made a cringe sound as it hit the concrete, and Kit turned his head only to be blinded by the light. He saw a man walk in and he tried to blink the black spots in his vision away as he identified the intruder.

“Sign here, and here.” With no explanation given, Kit raised an eyebrow and once he saw clearly, he recognized the orderly as Owen, the prick who beat him on one of the first days when Kit was lost in the massive building. Kit also recalled Owen punching him when another patient attacked him.

Owen looked dead inside.

“What for?” Kit had asked.

“Your release papers, they’re letting you out Kit.” Owen had the most casual tone as if he just explained what he had for breakfast, and Kit couldn’t help but frown as he reluctantly grabbed the form.

“Thredson, they caught him? Lana gave them the tape?”

“Yeah, and she did one better. She blew his head off. It’s all over the papers. Reporters are hanging off the rafters, trying to sniff out the corruption at Briarcliff. That’s why you’re suddenly a free man.”

Kit wasn’t fond of Owen, and he couldn’t help but clench his jaw despite the news he just gave.

Owen threw a package on the small and thin mattress they called a ‘bed’ and crossed his arms. “Clothes from the Salvation Army, they should fit you. Just leave what you’re wearing on the bed.” Kit stared long and hard at Owen to see if he could find any hint of a joke, but strangely Kit found none. Lana had actually done it. She had exposed Thredson and freed Kit from living a long life of repetitive horror and possibly the electric chair.

Kit was handed a pen and he signed the papers, a look of confusion mixed with shock still painted on his face. He was still comprehending what had just happened. After god knows how long in Briarcliff, suddenly he was just a free man. With one sign on a paper he was allowed to leave. It felt surreal.

As he stood up, it felt like the gravity of the situation finally reached his mind. He was going to see you again.

He was actually going to see you again after all these months, perhaps years for all he knew, and he didn't know how to feel about it. 50% just wanted to crawl into your arms and stay there for the rest of his life, but the other 50% was scared that you didn't want anything to do with him anymore. He was afraid you had moved on and forgotten about him.

The reality was something entirely different though. At the same time when Kit signed the release papers, you were sitting in the chair where you usually read the paper or a book. A cigarette was between your lips and there were dark circles under your eyes as you stared at the blank wall.

Smoking made you a lot calmer.

Calm was something that you needed since everything in the house reminded you of Kit. The piano in the corner reminded you of him playing several songs for you to cheer you up when you were sick or sad. The large space in the living room reminded you of the countless times you had slowly danced to the most romantic songs. Hell, even the small hole in the wall reminded you of the time where you pinched Kit in the side after he had tickled you mercilessly. The little hole in the wall was created when the little stone in Kit’s wedding ring bumped into it.

The song Kit had gifted you on the last day everything was still normal, was playing in the background and you couldn’t help but go back in time to the last night you saw him. Almost every day you thought about it. Oh how you wished you could reverse time.

“Pretty woman, don’t walk away. Hey, okay. If that’s the way it must be, okay. I guess I’ll go home, it’s late. There’ll be tomorrow night, wait, what do I see? Is she walking back to me? Yeah she’s walking back to me. Oh, pretty woman.”

You sang along softly, the lyrics tattooed in your brain from replaying it over and over again the last couple of months.

As you leaned back in the chair, you wondered what you were doing with your life. Your husband was in an insane asylum, waiting to be labeled insane or sane. The former would make him a prisoner forever and the latter would make him a prisoner in the afterlife. You could do nothing to have an impact on the horrible outcomes. All you could do was wait in agony.

You tried to keep that thought in the back of your mind, and you sat there for what felt like hours. As you were ready to fall asleep due to the sleep deprivation, you heard keys jingle from outside.

You thought it was just in your head, but as the door creaked open, you suddenly became alert. The shotgun was next to the chair you were sitting in, and in a swift move you snatched it and whipped it at the person at the door.

When you saw his face however, your heart stopped. You dropped the item to the ground.

There he stood, in an outfit you didn’t recognize, wearing a face you did recognize. He had an expression that read multiple emotions, and you felt like everything around you was surreal. He had a melancholic smile and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he was tired. His golden brown hair was longer than it was when he left, and the sparkle in his eyes didn't hold the same mischievous glimmer. he had before

Every object in your house that fascinated you before didn't matter anymore. All that mattered now was him. All you saw was him, and it took only a few seconds to render what was truly happening.

You ran towards him and let out a cry of joy. You almost tackled him to the ground and held his body tightly against yours as you buried your face in his neck. His arms wrapped around your frame.

Kit would be afraid to crush your body in his arms, were he not weak at the moment. He had to relish the feeling of your body warmth, the way you smelled, the way your body fit perfectly in his arms. He had fantasized every night of just holding you. And now that he’s finally got that fantasy, he couldn't let go. He had to know that you were real.

He was afraid that if he would close his eyes or let go, that you would be gone. No, he wanted to see every inch of you, feel every part of you that indicated that you were actually there.

When you took a second to look at his face, your already broken heart doubled its broken pieces and you let out a sob.

“What have they done to you?” you let out in a whisper as Kit had teary eyes.

“Your face,” you gasped and your thumb ran across his bottom lip where a small slit was visible, however that wasn't the only gash you spotted. “What have they done to you, baby?”

At this point you were crying. All these months of worry broke you, and even after having him in your arms again, it felt like you didn't have him back. You wanted to be happy with him. You wanted to show him how much you had missed him, you wanted to show him how much you loved him.

The silence that overtook the room as your mind processed everything was was long gone when everything became clear.

You pressed your forehead against his and Kit trembled. “It’s not me.” he whispered and you knitted your eyebrows together.

“I know, baby. I know it’s not you. I have always known you were innocent.” Kit felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and at that moment he just broke.

He held you tighter and sobbed in your neck as your shirt was getting stained by his tears. He was glass and your words had shattered him. Every doubt he had about you not believing him was all a lie he made up in his head.

He wanted to hold himself together, but all the exhaustion and pain was overwhelming and he just couldn’t bear it anymore.

“You waited.” he breathed.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

You had never seen him this vulnerable before. Yes, he had moments where he needed you just like you needed him, but it had never been this much before.

He looked like he had died and had been resurrected. He looked like a zombie, yet you couldn't help but smile through the tears when you noticed his familiar grin slowly appear on his face as he stared at you.

His smile was like glue that fixed your broken state in a second. Just the familiarity of his features that reminded you of his past self. It gave you the sense of normalcy you usually felt when he came home after a long day of work, kissing your cheek and eating the meal you made him with passion.

Pretty woman was still playing somewhere in the background and after what felt like hours of standing there, you took Kit to the bathroom to clean him up.

There were no words said. In truth, no words in the encyclopedia were right at the moment.

You had both slipped out of your clothing and had stood under the shower for a long time, letting the water shower all your bad thoughts away. You noticed he had cuts on his arms, and you kissed every single one of them.

Once you got to the bedroom Kit scanned around. He never thought he would be in this room ever again. He never thought he would be with you again. He finally realized that he was actually home. He was safe.

As much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to you about everything he missed, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

You were at his side and whispered softly as you stroke your hand over his cheek. His face expressed calmness, and you wished whatever he dreamed about was something graceful. “In this world, it’s just us. It’s not the same as it was. But it’s you and me darling. It’ll always be you and me.” You knew it will never be the same as it used to be. But as long as you had each other, things will be alright.

Your love could fight anything.

It had been a few days since he had arrived at your doorstep and you felt numb. Yes, you were beyond grateful that you had Kit back, but he just wasn’t the same. You knew that, but you still hoped that Kit would open up to you. He did answer your questions when you were curious, however you didn’t want to push it. You didn't want to pry because you didn’t want to evoke memories of that place when he just found the comfort of home. But you just wished that he could share the pain with you so he wouldn't have the feeling of being alone.

“Dinner is ready.” you said and you placed two plates on the dining table. Kit was on the couch and he walked over to you. “I made your favorite, lasagna.”

Kit smiled and he took a seat at the table. As much as Kit wanted to act like nothing happened, you could see that he was a lot more quiet than ever. He tried to hold himself together for you every second he spent with you, but you saw through him.

Kit didn't say anything as he took a bite, and you watched him as he continued eating at a rapid pace. He closed his eyes while moaning, and quietness overtook the room once again.

To break the silence, you put down your fork. “I made it with extra cheese, just how you like it.”

“You know me so well.”

He continued eating and swallowed every bit of food that was left on the plate. You simply watched him as you took small bites yourself.

Once you both were done eating, you felt like now was the right time to show him your gift. You had wanted to show him since the moment you saw him but you hadn't really found a good moment.

“I have something for you.” Kit looked at you with curious eyes.

“Really?” he was intrigued.

“Come.” You stood up and grabbed Kit’s hand, leading him to the door that led to the backyard. As you opened the door and walked outside, it was already starting to get dark. The trees and grass were softly lit by the moonlight and when you walked the path down the little creek, you stopped.

Right in front of you was a barn. It was placed on the flat ground in your backyard, and you heard Kit let out a small gasp.

“To make new memories in.” You eyed Kit’s gaze and it looked like he was mesmerized.

“Y/n… it looks amazing.”

You yourself were also still looking in amazement every time you saw the creation. “Caleb and Janet helped me. I’ve been going to the barn myself every to watch the stars. I just lay on the hay or the roof and think about all the things I'm thankful for.” You grabbed his hand and stood in front of him as you let out a deep sigh.

“I want you to know that I’ve never given up on you, on us. I know that what you’ve gone through was horrible, but know that I love you. I love everything about you. And I know that it’ll take a while to be fully comfortable in our home again, but we have all the time in the world to heal. I will wait until you’re ready and together we'll get through this.” Kit’s gaze diverted from the barn to your face and after a while he gently laid his hands on your cheek. Your hand moved to his wrist to hold him and you sighed longingly when you instantly felt warm when his skin touched yours. His touch was like the sun shining brightly in the February sky.

“I wouldn’t have survived without you.” he suddenly started and his thumb brushed the skin under your eye. “You were the only thing that's worth fighting for. If I didn’t have you, I would have given up," he paused for a moment before staring into the darkness behind you. It looked as if that evoked something in him, and you could see him clench his jaw.

"The past few days everything feels safe when I'm with you. You're my anchor, you're my hope. Every time I have you in my arms it feels like everything is going to be alright. At day everything is fine, but at night it feels like the darkness swallows me whole," Kit had to gather himself to speak further "In my dreams I’m back at that place, I'm in a long hallway and I see you on the other side. I call out for you, I reach for you and you look at me like you can't see me. I'm running and running towards you to try and reach you, but as it feels like I'm getting close, I get pulled back and you slip away. It's a never ending cycle and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I run, you're fading and getting further and further away.” You gave his hand a small squeeze for support.

He indeed had nightmares the last couple of days. Well, actually that isn't the right term to describe it. He had night terrors. Sometimes he screamed himself awake at night, looking confused around him as he expected to still be in Briarcliff as he was held down. In reality, you were calming him down by holding him your arms and telling him it was alright, that he didn't have to be afraid anymore. He would gradually calm down when he placed his head on your chest and would eventually fall asleep to your soft and sweet whispers.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere." You moved closer to him and held his hand. His touch made his gaze divert from the black abyss towards you. Your sweet eyes pulled him back, your touch made him feel like he wasn't alone again.

You could never understand what he had gone through. You could never understand the levels of pain he had to endure, the feeling of drowning in an endless well of despair. But you were willing to listen and console. You were willing to do anything to never make him feel like that again.

“It’s over,” you whispered. “It’s time to heal. It’s time to let go.”

“I don't know if I can.”

“That’s okay,” you went through Kit’s hair and planted a kiss on his cheek. “We take little steps, it might take a while, but we have forever in the future. As long as you have me, you don't have to suffer alone.”

He was like a vase that had broken into thousands of pieces. Shattered beyond repair. It felt like his mind was decaying from the torture he endured.

"The things they did to me, the things they did to the others-"

“-You don't have to share that chapter with me yet if you're not ready."

He was silent before he whispered. “I want to.”

He cleared his throat and after a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, he started talking while the moonlight shone on his face.

You listened to every single word he said, and when you had said you couldn't imagine the things he’d gone through, you were far from reality. What Kit described was so morbid that your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped multiple times during his storytelling.

He had explained everything from the beginning to the end. It honestly felt like fiction, but it was a real American horror story.

You felt tears escape your eyes once again when Kit started to describe in detail what he knew. From the missing patients who were being experimented on, to doctor Thredson who was in fact the real Bloody face who carved those poor girls.

Kit's voice faltered and he couldn't seem to speak about it more.

“Give your pain to me. You hang onto me, like your life depends on it. I will help you heal again.”

He let out a soft sob to that and slowly nodded.

"I knew that if the day came where I would be the one to give into the mercy of death, the last thing I'd see before I'd leave this world would be you dancing and twirling carelessly to our song. I would have been ready to die, knowing that my last thought would be you. That's why the last night I saw you kept replaying in my mind. Everyday and everynight. "

When he mentioned that night, you got a melancholic feeling. It was the last time you two had no worries in your mind. The last time where you truly frlt like everything was normal. The only thing that felt horrible at the time was the thought of Kit confronting Billy and the thought of Kit ripping your dress.

"We made a lot of promises that night, but we never got to watch the shooting stars." You smiled at the memory and laughed genuinely for what seemed like the first time in a long time. "We can now."

You looked at him with curious eyes. "What?"

Kit gave an answer by grabbing your hand and leading you to the barn. Once you were inside, Kit looked around him and the dim lights that looked romantic. You had put them there because you had almost fallen from the stairs due to the bad sight.

You both walked to the stairs that led to the second floor. Once you were there, there was a big, open window where you two could climb out of to get to the roof.

"You built this? with little help?" He stared at you in amazement.

"What can I say, I'm quite a handy woman."

Kit smiled at how passionate and determined you were at everything. "I won the lottery of a woman."

You hid your blush by climbing out the window and placed your foot on the sturdy ledge, pushing all your weight onto your leg and grabbing a hold onto the roof. Once you safely laid on the diagonal plattform, you encouraged Kit to come as well.

You watched as Kit maneuvred on the ledge and as soon as his back his the roof, he panted a bit before he looked to his side, his eyes focussed on your side profile.

He struggled a bit due to the unfamiliarity of the structure, "If I fell to death when I literally survived the hells of Briarcliff, I would have been so pissed as a ghost."

You let out a snort that was followed by a laugh. There it was, there was the sign of Kit Walker actually coming back. That was the Kit who always made the best out of a shitty situation, the Kit who charmed you from the moment you met him at Benny's barn 6 years ago. The Kit who would do anything to protect his family. The Kit who you fell in love with 6 years ago.

Kit had joined laughing with you and you placed your head on his chest, feeling the vibrations of his chuckles through your body. Kit had always said that your laugh was contagious. Whenever you would laugh, Kit would automatically join you.

It was cheesy, and it felt like you were two teenagers in love again.

After your laughter died, you looked at the sky with a grin on your face. You were genuinely happy to be with him like this again.

"Y/n," Kit suddenly began "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm?" You were looking at the tiny glimmers in the sky that were called stars.

“Had Billy bothered you when I was gone?” You looked at him when he mentioned the name you hadn't heard in months, and you thought about the last time you saw Billy, which was once in the pharmacy just 2 weeks after Kit was gone.

“No. He thinks I’m crazy for defending my husband who had been admitted to an insane asylum. He glared at me once when I walked into the pharmacy, but he didn't dare talk to me or come close to me. Him and his gang will leave us alone from now on, I'm sure of it.”

Kit hummed at that, and together you looked back at the sky again. That was one less problem to deal with. Kit found it comical that one big problem solved smaller problems.

There wasn't a single cloud in your view, and you held Kit's hand as you watched infinity amount of stars. After about 10 minutes, you both jerked your hands and pointed at the same thing in the sky. A shooting star!" You exclaimed and you were excited. The first and last time you saw a shooting star was the day you first met Kit. The entire group was getting stoned in the barn whilst you and Kit were on the roof. You were holding a competition who could count the most shooting stars. It had been sort of a thing between the two of you. Once in a while on date night you would just stargaze.

"Now we can both make a wish."

You closed your eyes and after a few seconds, you had made your wish.

"What did you wish for?" Kit asked, and you contemplated whether or not to tell him. After several seconds of worry that the wish won't come true if you were to tell him, you decided that that rule was bullshit.

"Kit."

"Yeah?"

"Remember all the promises we made the last time we saw each other?" "Yeah."

"Every promise was held, except for one. My wish is that the last promise we made becomes reality as well."

"What is it?"

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and Kit saw a glimmer in your eyes.

“Do you want to get a dog?”

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters smut #kit walker #kit walker x reader #kit walker x y/n #kit walker smut #kit walker x you #ahs asylum #ahs fanfic

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hwaslayer · 9 months

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | two.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: nothing too bad since we're still in the beginning stages of things lol, cussing, friends being supportive, friends being instigators and projecting!!, hwa still being hwa, yunho being shy and awkward but very caring

You scrambled to get your literature review done, almost forgetting that you had to send it to Yunho before officially submitting it to your professor. It's a bit past midnight when Seonghwa decides it's time to drop you off— even if it gets incredibly late, he'd prefer to drop you off at home rather than let you stay.

All Seonghwa's bullshit plans.

You yawn as you quietly step into your shared apartment, careful not to wake your roommates as you pull out your laptop and finish your lit review on the kitchen island in the dark. It fucking sucks that absolutely nothing is coming to you for this review because now, Yunho is probably going to think you're just flat out dumb for not being able to see what everyone else sees.

"Hey." You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. Seungmin groggily walks out of his room and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. "Why are you working out here in the dark? Did you just get home?" You nod.

"Mhm. Forgot I had to finish that literature review and send it to Yunho."

"Forgot already?"

"Shut up, okay? Not my favorite assignment to work on. Besides, I wanna give him some time to review it and chew my ass if he needs to. Rather him than Dr. Nelson at this point." You type away, probably hella nonsense and gibberish about the movie at this point.

"Hm." Seungmin hums as he quickly drinks his water. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't. Just gonna give this a few more words then send it off." You sigh. God, you almost regret asking Yunho [out of all people] for help. He's super smart and he always knows what he's doing. Was this the right route to go? Maybe you should've just asked Dr. Nelson and dealt with it.

"Mkay. Goodnight then, Y/N." Seungmin yawns as he drags himself back to his shared room with Soobin. You decide that you're gonna take another 10 minutes to finish off the review, giving it everything you can think of right now. If it needs tweaking or any additional details, Yunho can surely step in and help. You feel exhaustion hitting you quickly, giving your review the last bout of energy you have left before you shower and call it a night.

"Done." You say to yourself, sending it off to Yunho as an attachment.

He probably won't look at this until later.

You make sure to double check your emails and assignments, keeping track of everything that's due and needs to be turned in—

Ding.

You peep the notification that pops up on the bottom right of your laptop screen.

"1 New Email from: Jeong Yunho ([email protected])"

"What the fuck?" You mutter to yourself. It hasn't been a whole 10 minutes since you sent the email. You click on the notification anyway, letting it bring you to the new email in your student inbox.

— do you have time to meet really quickly later today? i wanna go over your review with you. cool if you can't though, just prefer to talk to you in person instead of marking up your page without any explanation to back it up.

You sigh and sit there, trying to remember your schedule for tomorrow. You do have a 45 minute break in between your morning classes. Hopefully, he's free.

— sure! i'm free from 10:15-11. does that work for you?

"1 New Email from Jeong Yunho ([email protected])"

— yup, i don't have class till after lunch. i'll be working at one of the booths in the library.

You sit back and respond, feeling a bit of relief.

— cool, see you. :) thanks for your help.

Yunho sits at his desk, feeling a bit awkward and nervous even though you can't see him right now. It's probably a little pathetic at how quick he opened up your email, but to be fair, you seemed like you really needed the help and that's what he wanted to give you. You aren't necessarily writing bad reviews, since you're hitting all the right points. But, he has Dr. Nelson figured out. He doesn't want just the facts— he wants you to think outside of the box, write out the emotions, feelings, outcomes of all the actions, give examples, state what your thoughts are on how this effects the surroundings, other characters. You just need to add that little umph to your reviews and give him more than the bare minimum. Yunho gets it though, it's not easy to tap into that all the time. That's why he's here to help.

He's hoping he can be the help you need.

"Did you come in pretty late last night or was Seungmin sleep walking?" Soobin scratches the side of his head as the two of you walk towards the library.

"No, that was me." You chuckle.

"Did Seonghwa at least walk you to the door? Cause that's late."

"Yeah right." You scoff and Soobin shakes his head. "Whatever though, he drops me off as close as possible to our building."

"Still. He should at least walk you halfway."

"Mm, yeah." Is all you respond with. "Anyway, lunch later? I have to meet with Yunho to talk about this review."

"Oh? You're actually meeting with him? That's new. I feel like that's something out of the ordinary for Yunho."

"He asked if we could so that he could explain better instead of just marking up my review."

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah, hopefully I'm not too much of a pain in the ass."

"Doubt it. You just need a little guidance, that's all. Sure he'll be super helpful." Soobin smirks. "He seems to not go out of his way for people, maybe he likes you."

"Are you serious right now? All because I need help over a literature review." Soobin laughs.

"Just saying. I already like Yunho way more than Seonghwa."

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll see you later." You roll your eyes and enter the quieter side of the library where the booths are located. It's easy to spot Yunho, especially with that towering figure of his even while sitting. Today, he's wearing a navy and white flannel, with a grey shirt underneath. His hair falls to his face as he leans over to write some notes. He has one finger placed on a page in his textbook, while the other hand is busily writing away. He glances to and from every now and then, only looking up at his surroundings when he feels you approaching.

"Um, hi." You awkwardly stand near the booth with your books tucked against your chest. He simply looks at you before giving you a tiny, pursed smile and returning his attention to his books.

"Hey." He moves his book and notebook closer to himself in order to give you some room. "Sorry, just need to finish this right quick."

"That's okay. Take your time." You slide in awkwardly and set your books on the surface of the table. "Thanks for going over my review."

"No worries." He says softly before finishing up his notes and shutting his books closed. He brings out his laptop and types away to unlock it, pulling up your document before turning the laptop towards you. "So."

"Sorry, I know it was bad." You look at him, a little shy and embarrassed. He tilts his head a bit and furrows his brow while looking at you.

"Huh? No, it wasn't bad, Y/N." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're hitting the right points, Dr. Nelson is just super complex and wants you to use these facts a bit more." He points at a line in your review. "You talk about the characters feelings here after an upsetting moment, which is right. But, how does it affect their surroundings? Their actions, the people around them, what they get themselves into to cope. How does feeling bad branch out to all these things? Why? How does it contribute to their overall attitude, to the overall character?" You nod.

"It seems so easy to talk about, but I don't know why I have so much trouble doing it. I feel kinda dumb." He shrugs.

"You're not. You just have to dig into the details a little more and use those examples instead of staying safe and stating what we know already. It's easy to stay safe because you know what you're stating is gonna be right. Dr. Nelson just wants a little more than that, is all."

"Thanks, Yunho." He gives you a toothless smile.

"Of course. Uh," He scratches his temple. "Let's go through everything else? So, I can be of better help to you?" You nod.

"Only if you're okay with it."

"Yeah. Just wanna make sure I help you out correctly." He lets out a shy chuckle before thoroughly going through your literature review with you. He asks you the right questions, allowing you to edit your own document on his laptop while the two of you continue to converse. He shares his thoughts and the things he's included on his review, making it easier for you to understand what you were missing and leaving out in your own.

Literature was never your favorite. You partially didn't care enough to put in enough effort, hence the lack of patience and understanding with the assignments— the lack of patience and understanding with your own professor.

As 11 closes in, you sit and look at your fully edited review feeling content. You look at Yunho, a small toothless smile on your face while he awkwardly glances around the library to avoid long eye contact. He gently taps his hands against the surface of the table, waiting for you to break the silence.

Which, you eventually do.

Thank god.

"Yunho, I feel so much better about this." You slide the laptop over to him. "Thanks for helping me, seriously. I don't know what I'd do if I had to see Dr. Nelson's comments again."

"It's not a problem." He shrugs. "I um, can continue to look at your reviews if you want?" Your eyes light up as you nod delightfully.

"Really?"

"Sure."

"I have to repay you somehow, that's too much on your plate isn't it?"

"It's not. I wouldn't offer if it was." He chuckles a bit.

"Lunch one day?"

"You don't have to."

"I would like to. Or, if our schedules don't work, we can always meet for coffee and go in on the café desserts."

"Sounds good." He smiles and pulls out his phone to slide it towards you. "Mm, do you think I can grab your number? Sorry, don't mean to be lame about it. I just figured it'd be easier instead of emailing each other. Unless that's what you.. prefer?" You chuckle and shake your head.

"No, this is totally easier. Don't worry." You plug your number in before sliding it back to me. "There."

"That's me." He says after giving you a quick ring so you can save his number on your own phone. You start to gather your things to start heading to class when you hear a familiar laugh come from one of the aisles to your right. You turn over your shoulder to catch wind of the noise, finding Seonghwa deep in conversation with another classmate, another senior girl [actually this one is probably Hyeri?] She seems to be laughing at his jokes, even though they probably aren't that funny. Somehow, the way he looks at her [along with any other female who isn't you] breaks your heart.

Breaks your heart even though there isn't anything else left to break.

Seonghwa briefly makes eye contact with you before his eyes quickly dart to Yunho, then back to Hyeri in front of him. You quietly continue to gather your things and swallow the lump forming in your throat, unsure why you allow this feeling to completely ruin your mood. Yunho takes note, for sure though. Again, he's not sure if he should feel bad because you surely knew what it was like getting tangled with Seonghwa. That was no secret on campus. However, he's an empath, and seeing that you've been kind and calm around him— he can't help but feel bad. A tiny bit sad, upset even, that you continue to let yourself mess around with Seonghwa when you deserve so much more.

Yunho challenges Seonghwa a bit though, letting his eyes linger on him until Seonghwa breaks away first. He checks on you and parts his lips slightly because he wants to say something, anything— he's just not sure what. Eventually, he settles with:

"Are you okay?" It's clear you're not and Yunho immediately feels stupid as fuck for settling with that question.

"Hm, yeah. Just tired, is all." He nods, watching as you slide out of the booth and swing your bag strap over your shoulder.

"Don't hesitate to text me if you need anything else. I'll try and help." When he says it, he's hoping you can catch onto the fact that he's someone who could listen to your troubles. He's not good with words or opening up to people, but he thinks he could at least offer that after seeing the way you sank in front of him. His eyes dart back up to you when you tuck your books back to your chest and smile at him.

"I will. Thanks again, Yunho. Lunch or coffee soon, okay?" You say sweetly before leaving him back to his lonesome.

"How was your date with Yunho?" Soobin asks as he forks his salad and takes a big bite. You glare at him before shaking your head.

"This is how rumors spread, you idiot." Chaery smacks him on the back of the head, making him laugh but slightly wince in pain at the same time.

"I'll whoop your ass if you say that word and Yunho in the same sentence one more time." You roll your eyes. "My literature review session with him went fine. He did help me out a lot, practically added another page to my review from all the edits we made."

"That's good." Soobin says, laughing. "Are you gonna have him review your literature stuff from now on?"

"Probably, it comes so easy for him. Or, maybe I just lack the patience." You shrug. "But, his help would definitely be nice. I need to push my grade up."

"Mhm." Soobin wiggles his brows.

"He's pushing this Yunho agenda so much." You point at Soobin while looking at Chaery and she shrugs.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm on the same bloat." You glare at her. "But, I'm on your side more than anything!" She quickly bounces back, making you sigh.

"I give up." You mumble as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Suddenly, your phone vibrates off to the side, making you lazily tap your screen to see who the notification is from.

"Better not be Seonghwa." You glare at Chaery once again.

"I'm taking this to the couch." You stick your tongue out before grabbing your phone and walking over to the couch in the living room. Because it's not, and you don't really wanna deal with your teasing friends even more.

yunho: btw, i like this website if i don't really wanna dig too deep into the details

yunho: it's a good website that summarizes a lot of the themes in books, and they have a huge catalog

You smile and respond back, feeling appreciative that he thought of you.

yunho: srry for the triple text, hope i didnt bother

you: you didn't. thank you, yunho :) i'll bookmark this that way i won't have to bother you so much lol

yunho: you're not a bother haha but np. have a good night!

you: you too!

Then, another comes in. And of course it's Seonghwa. But, the message isn't your typical message, no. It's a message that easily rubs you the wrong way because why? Why does Seonghwa like to pull this shit?

seonghwa: since when did you talk to jeong yunho? lol

you: why does it matter?

seonghwa: it's a simple question?

you: you're ridiculous, you know? we're in the lit same class. again, not that it matters .. ?

seonghwa: how am i ridiculous? lol

you: whatever seonghwa

seonghwa: why are you upset, baby? i'm just asking. i don't see what yunho's point is

you: he has no point, he's just helping me out.

seonghwa: okay, sure lol do you wanna come over? could use your company ):

you: not tonight

you: maybe you can call hyeri, or whatever her name is. i'm spending time with my roommates

seonghwa: baby, seriously? i was talking to a classmate. can we not fight over dumb shit again?

you: goodnight seonghwa

You sigh out of irritation, tossing your phone aside. It's a bit close to 10pm, but you feel like getting some fresh air and taking a quick walk around the complex would do you some good.

"Chaery, can we take a walk?" She looks at you and nods.

"Sure."

"What about me?" Soobin asks with a mouth full.

"You're eating."

"I can take it with me."

"It's girl talk." He cringes a bit and shakes his head.

"Nevermind. Be safe, come back soon." You chuckle just as Chaery walks out of your shared room in a hoodie. She has one of your jackets in your hand, handing it over as she gets closer.

"It's a bit cold tonight. Jacket?"

"Thanks." You smile at her as you throw it on and zip it up, sliding into your slippers before walking out. Chaery is right; the air is colder, crisp. It has a little bite, especially against your skin. Chaery wraps her arm around yours, pulling you close for extra body heat.

"What happened, babe?"

"Huh?"

"You told Soobin it was girl talk." You laugh a bit and nod.

"Oh yeah, right. It is." You sigh as you hold her close. "Nothing, it's just Seonghwa. He texted me just to ask when I started talking to Yunho and what his point was. Got on my nerve."

"Ew, what's his problem? Y/N, seriously. You can do so much better than him. I know it's not easy, and I know he has his moments with you. But baby, you deserve someone who is always sure about you and who will be happy to flaunt you off."

"I know." You sigh. "It's like every time I think about leaving, he does something to keep me close."

"But, it shouldn't be this way, you know? You shouldn't have to wait for these moments. It should happen every day if he really cared about you."

"Yeah." Is all you can say because what can you say? It's hard to break it off with Seonghwa because this is your routine, something you've gotten used to— his presence is something you've gotten accustomed to. Even if it he isn't necessarily the best, he keeps you company. The kind of company that you like.

"How was meeting up with Yunho? Did he help you with your review?"

"A lot. He is super helpful, and he offered to keep helping me."

"Aw." Chaery giggles. "That is so sweet of him."

"He's actually really kind, and patient. I offered to take him out for lunch or something one day."

"Cute. Yeah, you should! Get to know him. Maybe he just needs a little pushing out of his shell, you know? You could probably help him in return." You shrug.

"Maybe? He's still—" Suddenly, Chaery's eyes shoot up to the figure ahead. She does a little gasp before making a cute noise and dragging you closer.

"Yunho!" She says, waving at him. He looks a little startled, but he stops in his tracks and waits with his hands in his pockets— a shy, small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. "Wait, oh my god! I didn't realize you lived here, too! I mean, so does the majority of campus, but still!" You sure as hell didn't know either, and you feel a bit bad that you just probably never noticed.

"Uh, yeah. I just live over there." He points at his building.

"Who do you live with?"

"Kang Yeosang." Chaery nods.

"Ah, cute. What a pair." You give her a look before shifting your attention back to Yunho. He quietly waits for the next part of the conversation, his eyes softly gazing over you.

You're cute.

"What are you doing out here this late?"

"Could ask the same for you two." He chuckles and nervously scratches at the nape of his neck. "I, uh, can't sleep sometimes. The walk kinda helps."

"Ah, I see. Makes sense."

"So.." He awkwardly says, shifting weight from one foot to another. "Also couldn't sleep?" You shrug.

"We just needed to get out and get some air." Chaery cuts in for a follow-up to avoid any Seonghwa talk. Though, she knows Yunho wouldn't do that to you.

"It's getting late though, and pretty cold."

"We're just gonna walk to the end then walk back."

"Hm, okay."

"It was nice running into you." Chaery smiles. "I hope you can get some rest tonight!"

"Hopefully. Have a good night." He looks at her, then you; he gives you a very tiny, very subtle nod of acknowledgement. With that, the two of you walk past to continue your walk, Chaery praising how gentle and good-looking Yunho is until the end of the walk. Yunho knows the community is safe, but he cuts his walk short just to head up to his building and get a better view of yours. He hangs over the railing near the stairs, catching sight of you and Chaery. He watches as you circle back around to your building, slowly heading up the stairs. He can hear your laughs from where he stands, and he's glad you seem to be okay tonight.

It's good that you have great friends by your side.

When your figures disappear into the hallway, Yunho feels content, relieved— knowing you've both made it safely home. He turns on his heel to make it to his own apartment, greeted by a dark living room with echoes of Yeosang yelling at his PC.

At least you're okay.

At least you're not outside, waiting in the cold.

At least you're with good company.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie [bold = can’t tag 😭]

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez series #ateez fanfic #ateez #yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yunho smut #yunho fluff #yunho angst #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho angst #hwaslayer: project make you love me

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

6 YEARS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “Are you flirting with me right now?” “Have been for the last 6 years, thanks for finally noticing.” with Jack

notes: i’m not sure i’m happy with this one, but tumblr deleted over half of it when i was almost finished, so i had to rewrite it.

summers at the Hughes lake house have always been the highlight of my year. lazy mornings, afternoons on the boat, evenings spent in front of a blazing bonfire, and nights of joking around with close friends; i can’t think of anything better. this is the sixth year in a row that i’ve spent with my best friend and his family. despite being the same age as the middle Hughes brother, the oldest, Quinn, and i have been best friends for six years and counting. he’s both my best friend and my brother figure in one package.

his brother, Jack however, is another story. the entire time i’ve been friends with Quinn, Jack has been the main subject of my daydreams. at first i thought i was just projecting, as my favorite romance trope has always been ‘best friends brother’, but after so many years, i’ve realized that i do actually really like him. he’s sweet, and funny, and attractive, and an all around amazing guy. like when i first moved to New Jersey to work as a media intern for the Devils and Jack immediately stepped in and showed me all the best places in town and told me i can call him if i ever need anything. however, i’ve accepted my role as Quinn’s annoyingly clingy best friend, and it’s a role i’m willing to accept.

“y/n! you gonna play strip truth or dare with us?” Trevor asks.

“why do you guys wanna see each other naked?” i question, eyeing the boys sat around the campfire. but then it dawns on me. “oh. you wanna see me naked.”

they all laugh as Quinn comes walking back outside from getting a new beer.

“what did i miss?” he asks me as he reclaims his seat to my left.

“they tried to get me naked.” i joke, but apparently Quinn doesn’t find it very funny.

“what?” he says. “hey! keep your dicks in your pants. none of you are seeing my best friend naked!”

they all chuckle before starting new conversations amongst each other.

“Quinny, your big brother side is showing.” i laugh.

“brother?” Jack chimes in from his spot on my right. “you want Quinn to be your brother? i think i can arrange that.”

“and how are you gonna do that?” i question.

“by making him your brother-in-law.” he says.

“are you flirting with me right now?” i ask, equal parts confused and intrigued.

“have been for the last 6 years, thanks for finally noticing.” he turns in his seat and gives me a cocky smirk, raising an eyebrow as he sips his beer.

“huh?”

“y/n is oblivious when it comes to flirting, Jack.” Quinn jokes.

“i feel like i should be offended.” i say, but my words go ignored.

“i can’t even tell you how many times we’ve been at a bar together and guys will come up and quite obviously be flirting with her and she just thinks that they’re being nice.” Quinn laughs.

“it’s cute.” Jack looks over at me. “i’ve been flirting with you the entire time i’ve known you and you really just never realized it until now.”

“i thought it was all in my head.” i admit, shrugging. “that i was seeing things just because i wanted to see them.”

Jack leans over the side of his chair and crooks his finger at me to signal for me to do the same. i glance over to Quinn but find him in a conversation with Cole, so i turn back and lean towards Jack. once he’s deemed that we’re close enough, his lips ghost the shell of my ear.

“so you wanted me to be flirting with you?” he whispers. “did you think about me kissing you too?”

i swallow a lump in my throat as he pulls back just enough to look in my eyes. i part my lips, but nothing comes out, so i settle for a nod. he uses his index finger to clutch under my chin, pulling my face even closer.

“like this?”

he gives me no time to think before his lips press against mine. it takes me a couple seconds to unfreeze but my lips start moving against his. his tongue pushes past my lips, exploring against my own before he pulls away, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it go and pop back into place.

“dude, what the hell?” Quinn asks from behind me.

“you gave me permission.” Jack replies, looking at him.

“i gave you permission to date her, not make out with her right in front of me!”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #faithlynn’s 500 celly!#faithlynn’s writings <3 #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl blurb

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traveler-at-heart · 10 months

Text

What we were - Chapter 3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

CW: Character death, cheating.

Not sure if ya’ll gonna like where this is going but... this is my design.

Over the course of three weeks, you received yellow tulips, chocolate and danish scones from your favorite bakery.

Each item always included a hand-written note from Natasha wishing you a good day or with a poem you loved. You gave your thanks via text, but that was about it from your side.

Natasha also made it a point to drive and pick up Anya at least three times a week. On Fridays, they had dinner together and brought extra for you and Bucky.

A peace offering that he didn’t give a damn about. Still, it was fun for you to watch them interact with phony smiles, wondering who would break first.

As August ended, Anya’s school sent out their usual PTA meeting invite. You RSVPd, not really expecting Natasha to be there.

“Let me drive you” Bucky says as you look at yourself in the mirror. For the first time in months, you’re about to leave the house to interact with grown ups that won’t look at you with pity or sadness.

“And leave Anya alone? I don’t think so”

“It looks like it will rain, and you absolutely can’t drive at night with rain”

“Are you calling me old? You, the centennial man?” you pinch him, reaching for the wrong arm. “Ouch”

“Clearly, this interaction has shown that I’m more mature than both of you,” Anya proclaims, doing her homework in the living room. “It’s a short drive and you know uncle Bucky is right, Mom”

“Ugh, fine. But call us if you need anything, please?” you kiss her forehead and in spite of yourself, wear your reading glasses.

“Yeah, yeah”

“Be back in a second, kid” Bucky says, ruffling her red hair.

“With Chinese”

“Fine”

“She’s so bossy” you comment, buckling up. He chuckles.

“Wonder where she got that from”

“Hey!” you slap his arm, thankful that it wasn’t the metal one this time. “I know you’re just driving me because you want to see Miss Day”

“Anya’s teacher? Nah” his blush gives it away.

“Busted”

You have to hold back a laugh when, out of all people, Miss Day is the one greeting everyone at the door.

“Sergeant Barnes” she greets a little too eagerly. “Will you be joining Mrs. Romanoff tonight?”

“Just dropping her off” he stumbles with his words.

“He’s such a gentleman, don’t you think?” you say, nudging him. “Any girl would be lucky to have him”

“Well, Anya speaks wonders of you. And you’re welcome to stay, we will just be a little crowded in the classroom, considering the other Mrs. Romanoff is already here”

“Oh. Right”

“That’s my cue. Call me later” he mumbles, annoyed at the idea of Natasha arriving earlier than you two.

“Of course!” Miss Day is quick to answer, but blushes a second later. “Oh, right, you meant… her. Ha-ha, silly me”

You’ll never, ever, let him forget this.

As you walk into the classroom, still smiling, your eyes meet Natasha’s. She waves at you awkwardly.

“Saved you a seat” she points at the chair next to hers and you nod.

“Thank you”

Miss Day goes over the upcoming fairs, projects and field trips. The curriculum goes next and by the time she finishes with the Q&A session, it’s been an hour.

The last part consists of parents meeting privately with Miss Day to review grades and conduct. It’s in alphabetical order so you’re one of the last.

“I forgot how long these things are” you sit next to Natasha in one of the hallway benches. You lean back, sighing.

“Want some chocolate?”

“Mmm, yes. I’m starving” you take the snack and practically moan at the first bite. “Sorry” you mumble when Natasha blushes.

“I like it when you wear glasses,” she says, looking at her feet.

It’s your turn to blush.

“Thank you”

“Mrs. and Mrs. Romanoff?” Miss Day calls for you.

“Us? So soon?” you look at Natasha and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, we’re not doing the alphabetical thing anymore. We go over top performers first. Please sit. Anya is doing great. As you know, she’s already fluent in four languages…”

“Five” Natasha corrects and you go over the list in your head. Oh yeah, German.

“Right, five. Sorry” Miss Day looks flustered, and you remember that most of Anya’s teachers have always been particularly afraid of your wife.

“I forgot as well. It’s hard to keep up with Anya sometimes” you intervene, kicking Nat’s leg softly.

Be nice.

The Russian smiles, trying to look friendly.

“She’s leaning towards Humanities a little bit more than last year. As you remember, she won first place at the Interstate Science Fair. And her grades are still great in all subjects, but she has been reading a lot more. And taken some interest in learning to play the piano”

“My dad made me take lessons when I was her age. I may have mentioned it once or twice. Though none of us really know how to play any instruments, right, darling?” you say, distractedly.

“R-right” Natasha’s eyes widen at the pet name. “Yelena, her aunt, she plays the guitar”

“Oh, yeah” you nod, still unaware of your slip up. “Well, I’ll ask her if she wants to take some private lessons. I’m too rusty to teach her anything”

“Other than that, she’s doing great. She’s a great kid, sweet and very kind to her peers… as for faculty members…”

“What?” you're shocked to think that anyone would complain about your daughter.

“Well, kids like Anya…”

“Like what?” Natasha practically barks at the teacher and she jumps in her seat.

“I mean super smart. They tend to have an issue with authority and question everything. There’s also that thing where she’s very good at sneaking around”

“We’ll talk to her” you promise, but you’re uncertain about how the conversation will go.

After all, you married her other mother while you two were running away from the American government. And the Avengers were famous for breaking rules regularly.

The team had a whole Wikipedia page on broken laws, including sections by country and international organizations.

“In that case, class dismissed” the woman seems relieved when you say goodbye.

You walk next to Natasha, caught up in your thoughts. She keeps you from walking into the rain by pulling you next to her.

“Huh?” you look back, your face inches away from hers.

“It’s raining” she explains.

“Oh”

“Do you want my jacket? Where did you park?”

“Buck drove me here. I’ll get a cab”

“Let me” she offers, her green eyes pleading.

“Could we… get something to eat first? I’m very hungry and not in the mood for chinese”

“Yes, anything you want”

There’s an awkward moment as she walks you to the passenger door and you both reach for the handle.

“Sorry, yeah…” you let her pull and then you slip inside, trying to control your breathing.

“What are you in the mood for?” she says, driving out of the school’s parking lot.

“Grilled cheese” you say and she chuckles.

“From Al’s?”

“Where else, Nat?”

“Coming right up”

“You really were hungry” Natasha smiles as you steal another one of her fries.

“Maria had me on back to back meetings. And then I went to swim for a whole hour. So this is just me rewarding myself for being such a responsible adult”

“How’s the leg?”

“The same”

“My offer still stands,” she reminds you. Her phone rings and you’re saved the trouble of refusing said offer for the second time. “Will you excuse me?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll finish your fries for you”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but pushes the plate towards you.

The evening has been surprisingly pleasant. But a minute later, she hurriedly hangs up and walks back to you.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah” she lies.

In the past, maybe because you loved her, you let those small lies fly. But not pushing enough was part of what brought you here.

“Tasha? I’d like to know”

You lock eyes and you hold your breath as Natasha studies your expression.

“Ok” she nods. You give her a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve been researching… that mission. Trying to find whoever is responsible for Clint’s…”

She bites her lip, looking down. On instinct, you reach out across the table to squeeze her hand. Natasha holds on tight, running her thumb across your skin.

“I think I’ve found them. Kate was tracking her mother after she escaped prison. Seems like Eleanor Bishop is now working with international terrorists”

“They weren’t prepared for that, then? Kate and Clint thought it would be something…”

“Easier”

You nod.

“So, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not gonna be easy to get to them. It’s a matter of international security and every government wants in on the mission. I was hoping I could call a few favors…”

“So, you’re not gonna go rogue and beat them on your own?” you arch an eyebrow, impressed with her self control.

Honestly, you expected Natasha to fly and kill them as soon as she got the intel.

“I wouldn’t be a very good mother if I was stuck at the Raft. Or running away like we used to”

“I’ll travel to D.C.” you offer and her eyes widen. “I can pull some strings. As much as I hate it, my father’s name still holds some weight there”

“Would you do that? I know how much you hate going back there”

All the politics and the lies, the power these people craved and hoarded… yes, it made you sick. But if you could help Natasha, you’d take it.

“It will be fine”

“This means the world to me, Y/N”

“I know, Nat. Which is why you’ll get me ice cream for dessert”

“Deal” she lets go of your hand to call the waitress and you smile.

You also wish she hadn't let go.

Packing for one was easier than you remembered. It was only a two day trip, anyway.

Natasha insisted on driving you to the airport and Anya wanted to tag along. It was as good a time as any to remind them of the rules of the house.

“Pop quiz, everyone” you announce.

Anya and Natasha groan at the same time.

“Do we really have to?” your daughter complains.

“How many times a day do you have to water my plants, Natasha?”

“Uh… five?”

“Once! Just once, tomorrow” Anya laughs at her mother and you turn to point at her. “Ok, plants are your responsibility now, missy”

“Aw, Ma!”

“No Nerf guns inside the house” you keep listing the rules with your fingers.

“Hey, that’s no fun!” Natasha complains and you ignore her.

“No horror movies, if you order pizza it should have at least two different vegetables and last but not least, I do not want to come back home and see that you acquired any sort of animal as a pet”

“So if a puppy shows up at our door and it’s raining, we’re supposed to leave them outside?” Anya peaks from the backseat.

“No, you drive them to uncle Buck’s and force him to take care of them”

“Alright, we get it. We’ll behave, right, kiddo?” Natasha promises, winking at Anya.

Saying goodbye it’s harder than you imagined. Anya doesn’t know why you’re going to D.C., but she understands you wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important.

“Y/N, it’s a two day trip” Natasha complains, carrying your heavy suitcase. “Bucky had no issue getting it down the stairs”

“That’s low, even for you, Ma” Anya says, but still laughs.

“I know, I’m sorry” you take the suitcase from Nat.

“You are not,” she chuckles.

“Tiny, tiny bit” you put your thumb and pointer finger close together. Anya hugs your side and you turn to her. “Take care of Mom, please. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow”

“We’ll be ok, I promise”

“I love you” you say against her hair. She hugs you tight.

“We love you too” Anya says and you smile.

“Have a nice trip” Natasha approaches nervously, her hands on the pockets of her jeans.

“Thank you”

Before you have time to process what’s happening, she leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead.

It’s all you can think about on the flight to D.C.

Secretary of State Leah Renfield sends a driver to pick you up from the airport. She accepted your request to meet immediately, which can only mean one thing: whatever you’re gonna ask of her, she already knows how you’ll pay it back.

“Agent Romanoff” she greets you, walking away from her huge mahogany desk. She’s tall and her blonde hair has some white on the front.

“Madame Secretary, it’s good to see you again” you take the hand she offers and follow her to a small futon next to a giant window.

“I must say, I love that you took your wife’s last name. Natasha Romanoff is a KGB double agent and you’d rather be associated with her than with Thaddeuss Ross”

“Well, it’s hard to be on good terms with a parent that turns you into an outlaw”

“In the end, the Avengers did more for the world than he did” she concedes. It’s no secret that she never liked your father, but you share the sentiment wholeheartedly. “So, I am very happy to welcome you whenever you want. I know that you’re still working in intelligence and SHIELD ops”

“Right” you sit straight and look her in the eye. “The thing is… as you know, Agent Barton was killed seven months ago”

“A tragedy”

“We’ve gathered evidence and it all points to an international terrorist organization called Helios. They’ve been collaborating with some lower rank Hydra officials. It’s all here” you hand over the information that Natasha has collected, about members, attacks and possible targets.

“This is an issue of international security, then” she declares, after browsing through the files. “But what’s the point of bringing it to me?”

“We want to be the ones on a mission to tear it down and arrest those responsible for killing Agent Barton”

“We, as in, the Avengers”

“Yes”

Renfield sighs, and stands up to walk around the room. She pauses near the alcohol cabinet. It’s too early for a glass of bourbon.

“The world isn’t what it used to be when you were a team, Agent. Frankly, I don’t know how you all got away with so much contempt for the law”

“Well, we saved the universe once or twice. Remember Thanos?”

The woman sighs and nods. Yes, she does. Her daughter and husband were blipped, after all. She has her family back because of you.

“I’m here because we want to do things right. Without causing you too much trouble, as I understand you might run for president next year…”

Renfield laughs and looks at you.

“I always thought you’d do great in politics”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, Madam Secretary”

“Me neither”

There’s a knock at the door; her Chief of Staff reminds her she has to run to another meeting.

“Walk with me” she asks, taking the file and handing it over to her assistant. “When are you going back to New York?”

“Friday morning”

“I’ll try to have an answer by then”

“Thank you”

“Let’s meet before you go back. And give my best to your wife”

“Will do”

“I don’t want her greetings, I want her to okay the mission. In fact, I want her to authorize a nuclear warhead straight to these terrorists’ asses” Natasha rants.

You finally made it to the hotel and have a few hours before you meet with a friend from Law School.

“Jeez, Nat. Let’s just wait for her answer”

Natasha insisted on a video call the minute you checked in.

“Fine. You’re good at reading people. What do you think she’ll say?”

“My guess?” you sigh. “They’ve known about Helios for a while. Their operation is very similar to Hydra. We were the only ones who could deal with Hydra. And now, we’re offering to do the work for the CIA, MI6 and Interpol”

“So they’ll say yes”

“But since we came asking for the favor first… I don’t know. Maybe Renfield will want some type of endorsement for her campaign. I can do that”

“I didn’t mean to put you in this position. I’m sorry”

“I offered. And it will be worth it if we can put Clint’s killers behind bars”

“Yeah…”

“Natasha, you can’t kill them”

“It could be an accident, detka”

“Stop, I’d like to know as little as possible in case this goes to trial”

“Fair enough” she chuckles. “By the way, can I use your computer? I need to check my email and my phone is being stupid”

“Sure, the password is our anniversary”

“Oh, ok”

“Right… It’s almost time for you to pick up Anya. And I want to take a bath and sleep a little. Tell her I love her and that I’ll call her later, please?”

“Yeah, for sure”

“Thanks, Tasha”

Walking away from your phone, you begin to get rid of your shirt and the black skirt falls to the ground. The bathtub is almost full so you go back to the bedroom in nothing but your underwear.

“Shit”

Natasha is still on the call, mouth wide open.

“I’m sorry, I thought you hung up”

“I thought you did” you mutter from the floor, hiding from the camera. “Byeee”

Damn it.

Natasha can almost remember what life was like before she lost her best friend.

The domesticity of picking up Anya, making sure she does her homework while dinner is ready. You’re the only piece of the puzzle that’s missing.

She desperately wants to make it all better. Fix all the mistakes she made, take back the hurtful words she threw at you when she was so angry at the world.

“Dinner’s gonna be ready in five” the redhead tells her daughter.

“Can we eat in the living room while watching Project Runway?”

“Yes, but don’t tell your mother”

“Mmkay”

Just then, she remembers the email that Maria sent and she was supposed to review. She goes to your study. Nothing’s really changed in the room. Every wall is covered with books and your desk is full of pictures of your family.

Even the ones from your wedding.

Natasha runs her hand through one of the pictures. She’s looking at the camera and you’re looking at her, with complete love and adoration.

How could she be so blind to throw it all away?

As she logs in, there’s a notification from your calendar.

Dinner with Cynthia Florrick - Finestra

She tries really hard to not think about it, but that name rings a bell.

Oh, right. The divorce lawyer that Pepper threatened to hire if Tony didn’t retire.

You’re meeting with a divorce lawyer in D.C.

Natasha lost you.

“Hi, I have a reservation under Florrick” you greet the hostess. It’s an expensive Italian restaurant full of big suits and elegant women.

Another thing you don’t miss about D.C.; their fixation on fancy clothes.

“Oh my God, it’s been ages!” your friend shouts. Her loud voice and manners are a little out of place among the clientele.

“Hi, Cyn” you hug her and take a seat. “Well, you won’t visit me in New York so I had to come to you”

“Oh, that’s soon about to change” she smirks. You don’t have a chance to ask why, as an older man walks behind you and she waves. “Cliff, so good to see you”

He gives her the side eye and walks away.

“He doesn’t look happy to see you”

“Oh, he’s just mad because I got his wife the lake house in the settlement. And anyway, as I was saying, I’m opening an office in New York and another one in San Diego”

“Congrats!”

“Yeah, baby. Call me the Tony Stark of family law”

“Well, I’ll be happy to introduce you to some people. You wouldn’t believe the divorce rate among spies”

“Not you and Natasha, right?”

“Oh, no! We’re doing great” you lie.

“Well, good to hear” Cynthia raises her glass of wine. “Let’s chat, gossip about everyone from college and celebrate that we’re both great”

It’s impossible to nap as you wait for the plane to land.

On Thursday, Secretary Renfield invited you to a luncheon with some of the biggest names in national security.

The attendees were drawn to you. After all, the Avengers had been successful where most intelligence agencies failed.

Before you left, she stood aside to brief you on her decision.

“The answer is yes. But with one condition. You lead the mission. Do you agree?”

“Yes”

“And you were right, I am aiming for the White House next year. If you feel inclined to show your support when that happens, I’ll be very grateful”

“Madam Secretary, you have my vote and my endorsement”

You can’t wait to tell Natasha the news.

Maybe, just maybe, your lives can go back to normal.

Bucky and Anya are the ones waiting for you at the terminal.

“Is… everything ok?”

“Yeah, I was just stealing this one for a baseball game” Bucky points at your daughter. “So you have a chance to catch up and get some rest”

“Well, it’s good to see you both” you smile, uncertain. Anya hugs you and she doesn’t seem too concerned, so you figure Bucky is telling the truth.

On the drive back home, you catch your daughter yawning a couple of times.

“You so went past your bedtime”

“Nuh-uh” she denies it.

“Yuh-uh”

“Real mature” Bucky mutters and you hit him.

“I leave for a day and everyone goes rogue”

“Good thing you’re back, then”

When you finally get home, Bucky helps you with the suitcase while Anya waits in the car.

“Ok, as your friend, I’m warning you that Natasha asked me to take Anya so she could talk to you”

“James!” you say, punching him again. “Why didn’t you say something? Did she look happy? Worried? What were her exact words?”

“I don’t know, just go talk to her. The game is about to start. Good luck”

He sprints down the stairs and you are left to drag your heavy suitcase across the hallway.

“Nat? Natasha?”

You walk to your office, where she’s sitting, looking at your wedding pictures.

“Hi there”

“Hello” she greets, her voice low. She looks defeated.

Your heart pounds in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t need you to do me any favors out of pity or whatever it is you feel for me. I thought I had a chance, and all this time you were thinking about a divorce. I’m an idiot” she chuckles, but it comes out as a sob.

“Am I in an alternate universe where I mentioned the word divorce? Because I’ve never brought it up”

“You met with a lawyer”

“Cynthia? You were spying on me?”

“The notification popped up on your computer when I was checking my emails”

“And instead of asking me, you go around making up scenarios. Just like you did last time, assuming I’d jump to bed with James. I get it, Natasha. You want to think the worst of me, that’s fucking fine. Let me know what other evil shit I’ll do next. Turn our daughter against you, maybe? Which would be really funny, considering I’ve made it a point to not tell her why you moved out of the house”

You look out the window, turning your back to her.

“You’re the only person that made me feel safe and happy and loved. All I ever wanted was to do the same for you. Even after everything, if you asked me to, I’d take you back in a heartbeat. I was so hurt because you kept pushing me away while you were sharing yourself with someone else. I thought you finally realized I couldn’t make you happy. And I love you and want to set you free, but I’m also too scared to let you go. So, sorry to disappoint you but if you want to move on, you’re gonna have to ask me for the divorce”

She’s silent as you pause to wipe your tears.

“So, are you gonna leave or what?” you bark out, impatient.

Natasha doesn’t move.

“Fine, I’ll go” you turn around, walking to the door. You’ll find a place to mourn, because this feels like the end, and you can’t take it. Natasha’s touch brings you back to earth. “What are you doing?”

“I-”

“Let me go” you plead, not turning around. She pulls you closer, spinning you until you face her.

“I’d be an idiot to let you go”

A sob escapes and she silences it with her mouth, pressing her lips against yours in a searing kiss.

It’s everything you need, to feel complete again. Natasha’s touch is your sanctuary and you welcome its warmth. Her arms slide down your waist and you keep her close as she begins to undo the buttons of your pants. You break apart for a moment to take your shirt off, asking her to do the same with a tug.

“Let me take care of you” she pleads, going down and leaving a trail of kisses across your exposed skin. Your knees buckle when she reaches your underwear. “It’s ok, I got you”

Trusting, you allow her to lap at your folds, but the pressure is too much so you begin to lower yourself to the floor. Natasha makes sure that you’re comfortable and then resumes her ministrations, soft and deep.

It’s not possessive, but very intense. She’s soft and considerate, taking her time to build up the pleasure, until you’re on the brink of orgasm, holding her face close to your center until you ride every wave.

“Was that ok?” she hovers over you and you taste yourself in her lips.

“Yes. But I need more”

“How much more?”

“A lot more”

Three hours later and you’re in bed, clothes scattered across the floor.

Well, Natasha’s clothes. Yours are still at your office.

“Was it good?” Natasha whispers and you make a face. “What?”

“You’ve never asked me that before. And now, this is the second time you do it”

“I just want to make sure you liked it”

“I did. Very much liked it. In fact, like might be a bit of an understatement”

“Ok, good” she turns to her side and you do the same, your faces an inch away from each other. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well… we have a mission to complete. Then we can worry about the rest”

“Renfield said yes?” she asks, shocked. You nod.

“On the condition that I lead the mission. And I think we should tell the team, Nat. They deserve to know”

Natasha sighs, sitting up.

“Maybe we should just let someone else handle this”

“It’s not like us to let the bad guys get away with it” you kiss her shoulder, resting your chin against her arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got you back. What if something happens?”

“Everything will be alright. We do this together”

“Together” she promises, her forehead resting against yours.

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin, @ctrlamira, @dvrkhcld, @username23345, @unexpected-character, @how-to-disappearrr, @casquinhaa, @cd-4848

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you

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notti-stellate · 8 months

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Fated Mates pt.2

a/n: here's part two, I really like this so I hope you do too!

pt.1

Your pov

“Jasper’s gonna be here soon, I better go finish cleaning up before he gets here” I sighed to my friend. She demanded that we facetime before he came over so I could tell her all about him.

“Okay just remember to get his favorite color, I have to start planning the wedding.” She smiled. I was about to yell at her when I heard Jasper’s truck pull up. Checking the mirror one last time I ran down stairs to open the door.

He smiled at me when I opened the door, “Hi”

“Hey, come on in” I chirped

Jasper’s pov

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified walking to her door. I was absolutely petrified but according to Alice that was normal. The second she opened the door with that beautiful smile on her face all of my nervousness was replaced with something else, something I often felt radiating off of Edward when Bella entered a room.

If anything could make my cold heart beat again it’d be her, I’m sure of it. My attempts to stop the “butterflies” as Alice called them, were all failing as she led me into her living room.

“So what book should we do for our project” I asked as we sat on the couch

“What about The Vampire Diaries?” She replied fairly quickly, “Have you read them?”

“Yes I have” I laughed, I actually read them not long after they started gaining popularity. I like to keep up with what people think about vampires, and Alice loves reading romances so I get forced to read them anyways.

As we started working I found myself watching her more than focusing on the actual work. I watch as she glides the scissors through the black sheet of paper, the way she cocks her head ever so slightly when she focuses on getting the edges perfect. Everything about her made me fall more in love. I wasn’t sure it was real when Alice talked endlessly about falling in love, but watching her was enough to make me believe everything Alice had rambled about in the past few decades.

Hours passed by with occasional conversation here and there, but mostly we filled it with a comfortable silence. It wasn’t awkward to be around her like when I had first saw her in class, it was easy, almost like we had known each other all our lives.

By the time the sun had set completely, we had almost finished the project completely. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that I no longer had an excuse to see her more.

“Would you wanna hang out again soon? Like Friday?” She blurted as we walked to the door.

“I’d love to,” I said, a little quicker than I would’ve liked, “It’s a date”

“A date” She beamed up at me, opening the front door.

I couldn’t hide my smile as I started the drive back home.

Your pov

“Oh my god” I squealed, facetime my friend again, “we’re going on a date. Emmy, a real date!”

“What?” She yelled, clapping her hands in excitement, “when?”

“Friday”

“No way”

“I’m serious”

“I want all the gory details”

I spent the next three hours on the phone with her, going over every detail of the night up until the moment I called her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” She laughed

“Me too, god I can’t believe he actually said yes. I was fully expecting a hard no.” I sighed, my cheeks were starting to hurt from how much I’ve been smiling. I can’t stop this feeling in my chest, screaming to be near him again.

“Is it possible for me to be in love already?” I asked, my eyes widening as I fully processed what I had actually said.

“Absolutely, and from the way you were talking about him I’d be surprised if you weren’t” She smiled, “My best friend, finally in love.”

Oh my god, I’m in love with Jasper

#jasper hale x reader #edward cullen #jasper hale #jasper cullen #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x fem!reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x y/n #jasper whitlock x fem!reader #jasper whitlock imagine #jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 4 months

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Before I disappear for a bit, in order to finish something I've been working on for months and am REALLY passiona about, it's time for one of my favorite things to do... DEBUNK AND EXPOSE AB, and by extension, her relationship with Chris too!!! 🤭

Last chance for you haters of mine to leave before ugly words come out to the surface...

Alright, let's begin!

We all unfortunately saw this photo, right?

Well, without fail, albabaptistastylefiles uploaded and brokendown her outfit, just like pap walk 2.0... let's not forget the time that they somehow knew what exactly was the red dress that she was wearing, based off of two inches of it peaking out...🤔

No surprise that this time, she was able to identify, and credit ALL outfit pieces...

Quick question,how did they know that that is really AB's purse?! You can't even see the actual purse, just the strap. Unless it's a very one-of-a-kind purse (which I doubt) that she and only a select few own, then I'd buy it...

But that purse looks like any other formal purse you could buy at Shein or the mall... 🤭

You may think I've forgotten about her main outfit... I most certainly haven't, and neither has the GP...

Unoriginal, with a dash of Cultural Appropriation... Wow, AB, you've really outdone yourself.

And before any of y'all deny or try to talk your way out... Here's a little bit of receipts for you 😉

🤭

Anyway, I'm done talking about her what she is wearing, and I'm almost done. So, let's go to the photo. Or rather A photo, that was uploaded to Vogue and then was suspiciously deleted... I'mma let y'all read and see for yourself.

Strange... If you were really there, at the after party, and happier than ever, dressed to the nines...

Why would your photo be deleted from something as high profile as Vogue? 🤔 Now, that's something I'd love to know 😉😁

Anyway, that's it from me. Just wanted to let out my thoughts and suspicions on the whole GG photo fiasco. Honestly, anything with them is a fiasco 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Thank you, 👸 and 😎 for the photos! 🫶

Hope this pretty much summarized a ton, and revealed certain things, and I'm not even gonna mention how weird Chris looks in the photos, or how sus it is that his hand on AB's back is blurry, or why AB's neck looks like a giraffe's in the missing Vogue pic... That's something for my fellow Fans of the Fandom to question, analyze and voice. 😉

Talk and see you soon! Hopefully when one of my passion projects gets uploaded 🫶❤️😊🤗

#booky reacts #chris evans #chris evans fandom #alba baptista #alba baptista style files #debunking bullshit #Hate anons are on standby right now #y'all really are itching to spew some hate and get deleted or blocked 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣#anyway hope you enjoyed my rant 🫶#booky's rant post

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plush-rabbit · 9 months

Text

Too Soon

Part 5 to the Pouts and Spots Series

Word Count: 6.1K

A/N: sorry this is so late!! im like going through it and it sucks!! but here it is!! next chapter is gonna be my personal favorite and i wanna finish up cookies and cream mainly to get to one line that i really wanna use

The book is held carefully in your hand, spread just enough for you to catch the words, but not too far to ruin the paperback cover. Words turn over in your head, voices filling those for the characters, cadence heavy in your thoughts, but when spoken out loud to nobody but yourself, the words fall flat- so you’ve chosen to remain silent. Your home is quiet, the moaning of pipes and life outside from your walls echo through, and it’s the perfect background noise save for the barking dog that howls loudly in the confines of its home.

Pinched between your finger and thumb, the page turns, and your eyes skim over the words. Your tongue traces over the letters, and you startle when your phone buzzes beside you. You close the book gently, and place it beside you, careful to not let any of the corners be bent. It rests flat on the armrest of the couch, and you reach for your phone that continues to buzz harshly in the soft of your hand.

The name reads “Johnathan”.

You swipe at the green phone symbol and put the phone close to your ear.

“Hello,” you rasp out, your mouth dry and tongue rough.

Your name is called, nervously with only a hint of confidence laced into the last sound. “Hi, it’s Johnathan.” You can tell that he almost immediately regretted adding in that sentence. “What are- What’s up?”

You smile and tilt your head closer to the phone. “Hi Johnathan,” you tell him, stretching out your hand and looking at your nails, unpainted and pink. “I’m just at home, reading.” You flex your hand and think to yourself that you should paint your nails. “What about you?”

“Oh- I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to interrupt your reading.” He says it as a nicety, but there’s no genuine sorrow in his words. and you bring your hand down.

“You’re good,” you reassure. “I needed a break anyway.” You glance at the book and trace your finger over the title. Your finger traces over the curves and sharp lines, up and down, and down and up. “The words were starting to look like words,” you mumble, tipping at the last point of the letter. “What are you doing?”

“I just got out of work-” and as if to prove himself, he yawns. “I’m-” the yawn still stretches through the words and you scoff a laugh. “I didn’t mean to yawn. I’m just,” he sighs, “tired is all.”

Pulling the phone away, the screen lights with the call and in the corner, the time reads much later than you had expected it. And to show how late it is, you yawn, and turn yourself away from the phone. You pull the phone close to you and blink away the tears. “You’re out late. Did you get a new schedule?”

“No,” he says dejectedly. “I’m close to something big, and the later I stay, the earlier I can finish the project.” You bite your tongue to refrain from asking anything about the project. “We’re close, but not close enough. But these late nights are killing me.”

“You’re there practically all day and every day. It’s definitely going to take it out of you,” you sympathize. You look over to the book, the spine unblemished and only little indentations give away that the book is being put into use. “You gotta see people other than scientists, ya know.”

He falls silent. “I’m sorry,” he tells you again, and this time, he sounds apologetic. You wait for him to continue. “I know that we’re-” he pauses- “something. I haven’t meant to be busy, but- it’s work and I can’t just stop working and-”

“It’s okay, Johnathan,” you tell him. “I hadn’t meant it to sound backhanded.”

“You said you were reading?” You hum into the phone. “What were you reading?”

“Um.” You turn to your book, mouth pulling into a thin line. “It’s kind of difficult to explain. It’s about cowboys? It’s supposed to be a classic,” you tell him.

“You think I could borrow it once you’re done?”

You snort a laugh, and then slowly let small giggles escape past your lips. “You never struck me as the cowboy type.”

He scoffs. “Why because I’m a scientist?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

“I will have you know I loved horses as a kid,” he says boldly.

“Really?” You ask not quite believing him.

There’s a pause. “Sort of,” he confesses and you smile, leaning into the back of the couch. “Their teeth freaked me out but I’m sure I owned a toy horse.”

You laugh and stare at the decorative pillow at the end of your couch. “I had these toy lions that I loved. They were like figurines for miniature sets, I think. They didn’t do anything special but I liked them a whole lot.”

“Do you still like lions?”

You shake your head to no one. “I’ll watch a video about them, but I’m not out there buying lion themed things, ya know?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. In the background, you can hear a car honk and you scratch over your knee mindlessly, the sharp curves of your nails leaving your skin with a light sting. “We should go out again.”

“You think so?” Your feet are flat on the ground as you stand up, grabbing at your book gently and letting it rest flat over the coffee table. You walk away from the living room. The bedroom door creaks open and it clicks shut. You’re in complete darkness, and only memory serves to be your guide.

He clears his throat. “I want to take you out.”

You step on your rug, the plush soft and a comfort compared to the cold floor. “Now it sounds like you want to kill me, Johnny,” you mumble.

“We should go on another date.” Your hands stretch out, the pads of your fingertips touch against the edge of your nightstand, and your fingertips bump against a candle that sits close to the edge. You hum in encouragement. “We can get coffee and go for a walk.” You find the body of the lamp and trace up the cool glass. “Afterwards, we can come back to my place-”

Your hand bumps against the lampshade harshly and you feel the lamp tumble. You gasp and both of your hands reach. The phone falls to the floor and you can hear his concern, cracked and trembling with static, through the phone. You rush to turn the lamp on and a warm glow fills the room. You blink away from the light and reach to grab your phone. You wipe the screen against your shirt and clear your throat.

“Sorry, sorry,” you repeat. “I um- I accidentally tipped the lamp over and I let go of my phone-”

“You’re okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum. ‘I’m good, sorry.” You pat the palm of your hand against your cheek, and in your chest, your heart drums rapidly. “You were-” your voice comes out in a squeak and you clear it away- “you were saying?”

“You know, after coffee, maybe we could come back to my place and-” he lets out a shaky breath- “watch a movie?”

Your smile stretches and you collapse onto the bed, trying to stave off the burning feeling that you have. “Yeah, definitely. When are you free?”

“Would you like to meet this Sunday? I should be able to have a day off.”

With your arm stretched out, you grab at your pillow, the silk case crumpled into your hand, and nails scratching at the fabric and feeling the soft cushion that rests underneath. “Sunday works,” you say quietly. He makes a noise, and you stare at your ceiling, a patch of white paint stains the blade of the fan. “How was work?”

“Work was good,” he answers softly. “I’ve been closer to figuring out how the-” he stops himself and you frown. “I’ve been busy and things are making more and more sense, but I still need to figure out how to actually make it work.”

He doesn’t want to tell you about it. That sentiment doesn’t stray away once you acknowledge it, it only lingers, and it feels like a heavy weight on your chest. You let go of the pillow case and rest your hand over the soft swell of your stomach. Your hand finds comfort over the fabric of your shirt. “I hope you figure it out soon,” you tell him earnestly. The lack of information that he shares with you can only be blamed on your profession and the way that the two of you had met. You sit yourself up, the bed creaking under the change, and you notice how the dog had stopped barking, leaving you in silence save for Johnathan on the other side of the phone.

“I just got home,” he tells you and you hear the car turn off. His words linger, and leave room for you to talk.

“I’m glad that you got home safe.” You stare at the corner of the bed, where the comforter is wrinkled and where your blanket is folded neatly, corners meeting corners. “I think I’m going to head to bed. You should do the same.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course. I- I’m sorry for keeping you.” You don’t reassure him this time, instead, you keep quiet, not a click of your tongue nor a sigh escapes from you. “Goodnight,” he says your name with the same gentleness that he always has, and you lean into it.

“Night, Johnathan.” The bed whines as you move, and in the corner where the wall and the ceiling kiss, you spot a spider, still and silent, and you watch it. And in the darkness, it disappears, and you can only imagine it in your mind until you think you feel something phantom over you.

The door clicks behind you, and you roll your lips to stop a smile from forming, but the effort is futile as your grin grows. “Johnathan,” you chirp, taking a step forward to look around, “your place is a mess.” You catch his eye and he visibly winces.

“I- I haven’t had the chance to tidy up.” He picks up a pillow, and attempts to fluff it. It’s placed delicately on the corner of the couch, and you both watch as it flops over. You huff a silent laugh over it.

You hum, taking a peek over to the kitchen. “Do you want me to take off my shoes?” You tap your heels against the floor and grab at a severely thinned pillow. The pad of your index finger traces over the edge, the fabric worn and threads pulled along.

“No, no. It’s fine. It’ll give me motivation to clean after I return.” He edges further into his home, and you follow, tossing the pillow back onto the couch without much care for delicacy unlike the one given to its match.

“Oh, so knowing that I was going to visit wasn’t motivation?” You cock your head to the side, and lower yourself to a squat to read over a stack of books that are cluttered onto the end table.

“That’s not- I was busy.” You give him an impish grin, and he rolls his eyes. “I haven’t been home in a minute, okay?”

Your smile falters, and your fingertip traces along a spine. Looking over to him, you quickly turn away when he catches your gaze. “Long days at the office?” You ask, focusing on a book. “Hah, “Does Any Of This Matter?’” You tap the spine of the book. “That’s funny.”

His gaze is resting on you, a soft look that makes your skin itch. “Yeah,” he breathes out. There’s movement in the corner of your eye, and you force yourself to read the other titles despite the lack of amusement. “Long days.”

“If you want-” you rise slowly, bending your leg behind you to give yourself some relief- “you can just rest and we can go out some other day.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” And with his body betraying him, he lets out a yawn that he hides behind his hand far too late. Looking at you and your disheartened smile, he waves his hand. “I want to go out today.”

You force yourself to look at a whiteboard that is mounted over a counter. Black marker draws equations that only make your brows knit together. Orange and green are contrasted against the black and white. In the bottom-left corner, there is a crudely drawn person near a black swirled circle.

“Hm-” you cross your arms over your chest- “I don’t understand any of this.”

He laughs loudly, and his hands cup over your shoulders. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he tells you, giving what you’re sure is meant to be a reassuring squeeze.

Your mouth drops and you practically hurt your neck to whip around to look at him. He refuses to meet your eyes, and can only smile coyly. “You are so rude to your guest.” You pull away from him and swat at his arm. You can’t help but want to wander all over his flat, to peek at every nook and cranny, wanting to see more of him, the him that he is when he’s alone and no one is watching. Glancing at an empty water bottle, you find that he lets things clutter around him. A part of you entertains the idea of getting to clean his home together, to sit with him after a long day and have his arms wrapped tight around you. You shake your head at the thought and turn your attention elsewhere.

A bulletin board decorated with various images and newspaper clippings catches your attention and you let yourself be taken to where it hangs. There are sticky notes with random numbers stuck to the bigger poster that’s been layered with other items. You pinch over the edge of an old newspaper, and suck in your bottom lip. “I didn’t know there’s gonna be a new Alechmax in India.” You turn to him, your smile a poor mask for the anxiety bubbling in you. “You’re not getting transferred, right?”

“No!” He yelps, before clearing his throat. “No,” he says in a more controlled tone. “They’re hiring in the area. I might have to visit in the future, but even then it's just a possibility.”

You nod to yourself, and walk around his flat, peeking at every loose leaf of paper, and you can feel his eyes on you. In the kitchen area, you look at the refrigerator. You smile, looking at him with your finger pressed against the photograph. “Awe! Is this you?” He stands with other scientists, all pressed side-to-side, and his smile is small and stiff, shoulders hunched and head slightly bowed.

Soft footfalls quickly approach where you stand, and when you look up, he’s peering at the photo. “It was taken around the time when the new batch of scientists- including me- had started.”

You bump your back against his chest, and his hand wraps around your hand. “I didn’t know you were so sentimental,” you muse. Against you, he shrugs. “We can always take pictures together, too, ya know?”

“We can?” He asks in a timid voice.

“You know, I may be a writer, but I can also take really good photos.” You lift up your free hand and make a motion of pressing a camera button. “Haven’t gotten any complaints about my skill.” His hand squeezes around yours and your grin stretches. “Anyways, you gotta go change, remember?

“Hm? Oh- Yeah. Right, right.” He lets go of you and you turn around. “I’ll be-”

Something else grabs your attention, if it were just one, you could have spied on it on your own, but when grouped with so many, you have to ask. “Why do you have so many cages?” You brush past him and lower yourself, trying to find something inside the clear plastic boxes. They’re not labeled, and nothing seems to be inside. “They’re all empty,” you mumble. You tap against the clear screen, and your fingerprint is left behind.

He grabs you, pulling you away and putting your attention elsewhere. You gasp in shock, and give him a confused look. “Snakes,” he answers, practiced and perfected.

Your reporter senses tingle. “Snakes?” You ask, not believing the story, giving a side glance to the cages.

“Yeah, snakes.” His hands leave your body and you watch him. “Do you want a drink? I never offered you- That was my bad. You want water? I’ll get you water.”

“Johnathan,” you start, and he turns towards you. His eyes are scanning you, and he takes a brief look over to the empty cages. You follow his gaze, and return to him. Taking a deep breath, you take a step closer to him, and pull down the hem of his shirt. “We’re already getting drinks, remember? You need to change. I have an appointment early tomorrow, so I can’t really be out so late.”

“Right,” he breathes out. His eyes glance to the cages and you bite your tongue to avoid asking him anything more. “Let me go get changed,” he mumbles. “I need- I’ll be quick.” Without waiting for an answer, he brushes past you, and behind you, the cages sit empty.

Left alone, you walk back to the couch, grabbing at the thinned pillow and placing it on your lap. You fiddle with the corners, and turn to the end table, the lamp surrounded by books and binders, and giving a quick glance to the room that Johnathan disappeared into, you grab the binder and have it rest on top of the worn pillow.

You’re careful to open it, and your caution pays off when loose paper is at the front of the binder. It’s scribbled out notes, corners bent and highlights made upon certain lines. There’s a business card stuck through a ring. You read the name- Dr. Owens. You stick your tongue out and move on. You find more of what you found in the beginning. Notes that are scribbled out, some crossed out in angry pen strokes or in permanent black marker. Equations that make your head spin, and you flip through each page with care to not let anything slip out. Some pages are decorated with sticky notes that are wrinkled and brightly colored against the black and white pages- letters, question marks, exclamation marks, and doodles decorate each sticky note.

Whatever Johnathan has chosen to write about in this binder is not your concern. You don’t stop to read past a few words of what you can recount from what he’s said previously. In the middle of one page is a recipe, the words smudged, and smeared across the page. You wonder if he’s already made it, and another wonder passes in your mind if it’s something that he would like to do with you. On one page, is a roughly drawn picture of a spider. You stare at the black-inked spider, your finger tracing over it, practically covering half of the drawing.

You hear a rush of steps, and when you look up, the binder is snatched from your hands, and it is snapped shut, and held protectively in his arms.

He wears a white button-up, decorated with black squares and black outlined squares. It’s tucked into his pants. “Oh, you’re ready,” you chirp. The pillow is placed beside you, and you walk past him, standing by the door. “You got everything?”

“Why did you look at it?”

You scoff, a thin smile stretching across your face. “I was bored-” you shrug- “it was just there and I thought-”

“You thought what? You thought you could take a look at my things?” His tone makes you stand a bit straighter, your hands curling inwards, and your mouth goes dry.

You brows knit. “Johnathan-”

“I invited you here so you could wait-”

“You didn’t mind me looking around before-” You spit out, confused about what is unfolding.

“Because I was here,” he snaps. “I was letting you walk around, not open up my things. I don’t look through your things.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I just- It looked interesting. I’m sorry, Johnathan.” You know that you shouldn’t have looked through it and he has every right to be upset, but you don’t enjoy this feeling of him looking down at you.

“His hand slides through the air and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

You feel your ears burn. “I’m sorry-”

“What did you see?” You turn your head, and your nails bite into your palms. “What did you see?” He repeats.

“Just equations and doodles. Nothing else that I could have understood,” you say meekly. You hate how you feel right now. You hate that it’s him that’s making you feel so small.

“I don’t know why you thought it was okay to look through my things,” he hisses out, and you never thought you’d see him so upset- “but I didn’t give you permission. You come into my home and touch everything and-”

“I’m sorry,” you say loudly, stomping your foot on the ground, and finally he stops. “I can’t do or say anything more about it.” Your face burns, and your hand has begun to shake and even with your nails piercing into your skin, you can’t stop the trembling. “You know what-” you turn your head and try not to feel cold in his home- “you said it yourself that you’re overworked and tired, and obviously I’m not helping, so I’m leaving. We can-” you turn to him, and the stress is leaving, his face softening, and worry replacing any previous emotion- “pick this up some other time. But I’m gone. I’m going home.”

The doorknob is cold in your hand, and it twists softly and you let it go with suddenness when a hand holds your wrist. “Wait, no.” You stare at the door, finding paint staining over the metal. “I’m sorry. I don’t know- It’s just that there are important notes in there and I shouldn’t have left it out-”

“It’s fine, Johnathan,” you say in a tone that makes it quite obvious that it is indeed not fine. “I’m just gonna go home. It was my fault; I shouldn’t have looked through it.” You stay silent, and weakly, you pull your arm free, and he lets it go without resistance. Your teeth glide over your bottom lip. “Good luck with your research or whatever.” You give a wave without looking back, and keep yourself focused on the doorknob, and your hand wraps around it once more, and it opens easily.

You don’t hear the door close behind you, nor do you care to look back. Your ears burn and your chest is hot. The outside air is crisp, and you keep your gaze on the sidewalk, carefully stepping out of people’s way by the position of their shoes. You focus on the weeds that bloom between the cracks. And you only stop when a hand grabs at yours.

Tears prick your eyes, and you pull your hand back to you, ready to spit venom at the other person, only to find Johnathan looking at you, out of breath, and glasses askew.

“You walk fast when you’re upset,” he says between breaths. You stare at him, your eyes wandering to the other side of the street. He follows your gaze, and he reaches for you again, only to stop when you step away from him. “Can we talk, please?”

“I’m going home,” you tell him. “Go get some rest or something.”

“Let me buy you a drink. I- I told you that I wanted-”

“I don’t want a drink,” you snap. And just as quickly, you regret it. You turn away from him, and wait at the crosswalk. You watch the pixelated red hand, and when it turns into the off-white figure of a man, you walk quickly, rushing between people, hoping that he isn't following you, but wishing that he is. You hope that you’re someone worthy of being chased.

Your stomach drops when he grabs at your hand and walks with you. “Then let me take you home,” he says in a whisper. “At least let me do that.”

“I don’t want you to,” you tell him, still walking with him hand-in-hand.

There’s far too many people, your body is growing restless. You walk without purpose, your steps quick and heavy and he follows without a sound, his hand neither tightening nor softening his hold as if in fear that once you’re reminded of him, you’d pull away again. You round the corner of a building, the back of it is empty save for the stray cat that naps over the dumpster. With his hand still wrapped around yours, you step away from him, your arm stretched and your hand clammy.

You take a deep breath and look at him, eyes wide and already filling with tears. He takes a step closer to you, concern creasing over his features. “I’m sorry,” you say in a choked voice. “I shouldn’t have looked through your place.”

Johnathan shakes his head. “You were just curious,” he tells you in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you.” You turn your head and blink rapidly. His hand lets go of yours and he cups at your face, his thumb arching over your cheekbone. “Please, don’t cry.”

Shaking your head, you tilt your head away from his hand. Your fingertips find themselves pinching over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut tight where light doesn’t peek, and where organic shapes are the only thing that you can see. “I just wanna go home, Johnathan.”

“Let me take you home, then. We can walk back and-”

When you open your eyes, the sun blinds you for a second. “No.” You hold your hands in front of you, your palms facing him. You turn your head, and let your hands fall. “I just want to be alone for a minute. I know that if I go back with you and we talk, we’ll just-” you stop yourself- “I just-”Your hands shake, a trembling that’s rapid and and makes you feel too seen, too vulnerable, and with the way that his hand stretches out as to grab yours, only makes you want to retreat away from him.

Something speeds by, a gust of air and a mechanical whir to it that has Johnathan reaching towards you. His arms wrap around you, and you’re pressed against his chest, your vision clouded by blue until you shift, pushing yourself away from him. You look up in time to see Spider-man swing by, his attention focused on whatever had just rushed by. Your hands reach for your phone, and you glance at the battery- seventy-eight percent. It’s enough.

You turn to Johnathan, and stare down at your shoes- while not ideal for chasing around the city’s web-slinger, it’ll have to do. Looking back up at him, you find that he’s staring at you, no movement, and no sound. You turn to look the way that Spider-man had just swung towards. You turn back to him, your phone held tight in your hands. “I gotta go,” you tell him.

“You’re going to chase after Spider-man and some villain of the week rather than talk to me.” His tone is a mixture of hurt and accusatory, as if you’re doing something wrong- again. And you know for sure that you are this time, you know that you should go back with him and talk it all out, but the thought of being alone with him right now makes you upset.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Yeah, I will. I am. Get some sleep or something, we’ll talk later.” Your heels spin against the concrete, and you rush to chase after Spider-man.

As you trudge down the sidewalk, your camera is heavy around your neck and despite the padding, the straps make the soft flesh around your neck raw. All you want right now is to collapse on your bed, or take a shower. You hum, a shower would be nice. In your pocket, your phone buzzes- something that it’s been doing all day. If it’s not emails, it’s notifications from social media, and if it isn’t that, it's phone calls and messages. You answered the people who you wanted to talk to but when the name ‘Johnathan’ appeared, you promptly ignored it, the buzzing thick in your pocket and continuous.

You should talk to him. It was a fight- an argument, really. But you can’t look at him right now, nor do you have the energy to talk to him. You’ll figure it out in the morning. You’ll have a light breakfast and message him some type of apology and then he can make the difficult decision of replying or not.

Closer to your home, on the steps you see someone and you halt. Your hands grab at your camera, and you tap your fingers against the sides. You could turn around, find some other entrance. If people can use fire escapes for something other than their intended purposes, so can you. The heel of your shoe scrapes against the concrete, and before you can spin on your heel, the person looks up and sees you.

Jonathan stands up and pulls the hem of his shirt down, and you hold on tighter to your camera. Canines worry at your lip, the flesh soft and tender underneath the sharp points. He takes a step toward you and you glide your foot against the concrete, ready to run, ready to look at anyone but him. But he falters, and his shoulders slump, and the sad look on his face makes you walk nervously up to him.

You say nothing, and he stands at the bottom of the steps, and you stand above him, and he says nothing. Neither of you make a motion to talk to the other, and a part of you wants this to end. You don’t like the difficult bits, you like it easy. You like not having to worry about what the other person is thinking of you, but now, it’s all that you can do. You hold your breath, unable to think of anything other than the beginning of your supposed coffee date.

He points towards his neck. “When did you get your camera?”

Covering the lens of the camera with the palm of your hand, you tap your foot against the stair. “I was lucky Spider-man was near the office. I was able to pick up a spare.” He nods, and you move down a step when another tenant enters the apartment complex. “Do you want to come up?” He nods, and follows closely behind you.

Your apartment is cozy- littered with personal objects and mail that sits at the coffee table. The spare camera joins the mess of your stuff on the table. He makes a motion to his shoes and you wave your hand, not caring at the moment, only wanting to distract yourself. He nods, and slips them off. You keep him in the corner of your vision, watching as he walks gently to the couch, sitting at the end of it with his legs bent and knees and thighs close together. The blanket that you use is crumpled and he sits beside it, grabbing at the corner of it and testing it between his fingers. You hold your breath and walk toward the fridge, opening it and pulling out two bottles of water. The frost over its wipes away with your touch.

“Were you waiting long?”

“Since 8.” You look at the clock on your stove. It’s 9. “You didn’t answer my calls.”

“I was busy with work.” You're quick to get to the point. “Where there’s Spider-man and a villain, there’s always bound to be some sort of danger.” You place the water in front of him and sit a cushion apart from him. Your water is in your hands, the cold slowly numbing and wetting your palms. “Got some good pictures, still and all.”

His eyes scan you over and you look away. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy.” You press into the bottle and a droplet of water traces down your arm.

“I’m serious.” He turns himself to look over to you.

You hunch over, your forearms resting over your thighs. “I’m not in a hospital, am I?”

He swallows. “I don’t like how we left things.”

You sigh and dip your head down, before lifting it with weariness. “I already apologized, what more do you want?” The water bottle is placed carefully on the floor, and even with your carefulness and gentleness, it still falls over.

“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Your lips pull into a line and you grab a bunch of the blanket and dig your hands into the soft plush. “That was wrong of me. But-” you push yourself against the back of the couch and he stops. “I apologize.”

Your chest rises with your inhale, and falls down at the quick release. “What more do you want me to say, Johnathan?” You turn to him and he pushes his glasses up by the bridge. “Let’s just forget it happened. I won’t go to your place and look through your things. We’ll just- I don’t know- meet at my place. It’s not like I’m doing anything other than journalism.”

He says your name delicately, whispered as if saying it out loud would be too much and said with strain as if your name is too heavy for his tongue. “That’s not it. I’m really sorry.” His voice breaks and you flinch, looking away. “Work’s been a lot, and Dr. Octavius and Mr. Fisk are breathing down my neck-” he waves his hands, rolling his hands and flexing his fingers- “but- but that’s no excuse as to how I talked to you. I don’t want- The less that you know, the better.”

“I know,” you say curtly. “I remember our conversation from before.”

He sighs. He crosses over to sit beside you, the blanket held in his hands, the corner edge of it now held tightly. “I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’m not good at this. I’ve dated before, but that was before things at Alchemax were getting serious. I’m not- I like you a lot. When I saw you reading through it, I-” he shakes his head, and his knee touches yours. “We met because you were determined to know more about Alchemax.”

“I told you before that I’m not using you to get to that.” Your back is straight, and your hands curve over your knees, the knuckle of your littlest finger grazes against his knee. You want to take his hand. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything else.” He takes your hand, and holds it tightly between the two of his. “We can put this behind us if you want, but I promise, I won’t talk to you like that again. I- I didn’t like getting mad at you. And I didn’t like the feeling that it left me with.”

“I didn’t like it either,” you mumble. “It felt like you were talking down to me, rather than to me.”

His hands tighten around your own. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” You nod and you feel much more tired than you had before. “Is it okay if I hug you?” You nod, and he lets go of your hand, and embraces you.

You lean into him, your hands fisting at his shirt, clawing into him to keep him against you. Unlike your feverish grasp onto him, he holds you gently, his hands laid wide and flat against your, curving over your body, and holding you close to him. He leans into your touch, whereas you push yourself against him. His hair tickles at your nose, and you keep your eyes close, full intent to sit there until he’s ready to pull away. You’ve made your peace to sit there, to let vines grow and keep you tethered to the couch, to not let go of the smallest comfort that he's given you. When you feel his lips press against the side of your head, you press a faint kiss over his shoulder, content when he runs his hand upwards and presses another kiss against you.

137 notes · View notes

cheolbooluvr · 2 years

Text

tomorrow tonight

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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 20.8k (ha ha buckle in)

warnings: divorce, implied sexual activities (but no smut), profanity

a/n: it’s here!! first, i want to say thank you all for your interest in this fic; it was truly unexpected, but your support motivated me to finish this after months of sitting on it with no clue as to which direction i wanted this to go. this started roughly three months ago when i started watching thirty nine (which i finished last night btw; go watch it if you’re into sad stuff), and also listening to loote’s song of the same name! smth abt tomorrow tonight + thirty nine angst made me want to write this sadness so...yeah. i truly did not anticipate this being my longest fic to date at 20k words, but here she is :’) thank you to @gyukult and @twogyuu for beta reading this bc i was too tired to re-read it myself LOL @_@ i hope you all enjoy it, and as always, please be sure to leave your feedback via reblogs/replies/asks!! <3 enjoy !!

tag list: @itaewonsquad97 @yeosangsbiceps @haoraecane @dontflailmenow @flwrsol @blackswann-53098 @yjhdaily @kpopjackie @letskookandbaek @lovelywoo @chanreads @xmessaroundx @romromthedeer @soobin-chois @qy61 @chwebychew @ahgastayzen (if i missed you, i am SO sorry T-T)

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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“Hey, jackass. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Your voice filled the empty night air, crude words accompanied by the chilling winter wind. He was facing away from you, his back hunched over as he sat on the carousel in the children’s park outside your apartment. Even under the poorly-lit street lamps, you recognized the back of his head: the way his hair—cut close to his nape—faded into his skin, and how his white, cotton button-down shirt hugged his wide back as he rested his elbows on his knees. He was rubbing his palms together, his breath visible in the night as he tried to warm himself.

Dipshit, you thought to yourself. It was below freezing and he was out here without a jacket.

He turned around to greet you with a smile, though it wasn’t the same cocky grin he usually gave you when you called him unpleasant names. This one was different. It was… sad. Given the way his hair was tousled, you could guess he had probably gone drinking with his coworkers before he came to see you.

“What’s up?” you asked, dropping the black plastic bag in his lap as you sat down next to him.

“How was work?” he replied, answering your question with a question, something he knew you hated but still did anyway.

“Fine. Same ol’, same ol’, ya know?” You stuck your hand in the bag and pulled out a cold beer; you had stopped at the convenience store just a couple minutes away and grabbed some drinks and snacks, figuring Seungcheol probably wouldn’t mind considering how much the man usually drank. Besides, you had been spending long days at the office this past week finishing a project for a VIP which didn’t give you much time or energy to cook at home, so this was your next best option. Looping your finger through the pull tab, the can opened with a satisfying hiss. Seungcheol followed suit with his can of beer, raising it to tap against yours before the two of you took huge gulps, each finishing with a loud, content sigh.

“Oh?” Seungcheol moved his face to inspect the can closer. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

He chuckled when he saw the incredulous look on your face, the way your eyebrows seemed to go in different directions with your mouth slightly agape at such a dumb question.

“You act like we haven’t been friends for a long time, stupid.” Of course you knew his favorite beer, but that begged the question: did he know yours?

“Best friends,” he corrected you, which warranted a loud smack on his arm. He winced, and despite being a big boy with big, beefy arms, the impact you made caused his arm to sting. This time, it was your turn to laugh at the man rubbing the spot where you had hit him.

Reaching your hand into the bag again, you pulled out a triangle kimchi tuna kimbap. Seungcheol snorted. No matter how much time passed, you were just too predictable. He grabbed the kimbap from you, tugging on the tab and expertly freeing the plastic from around the seaweed. He handed it back to you, your dumbfounded face causing him to snicker even more.

“You’re like a fucking magician,” you muttered. Even your reaction to him unraveling the snack for you never changed, reminiscent of the very first time you two met.

He had found you sitting outside a convenience store in elementary school, eyes puffy from crying about who knows what, a discombobulated mess of rice and seaweed on the table in front of you. Seungcheol, even as a young child, was always considerate, so he had gone inside, bought another kimbap, and brought it out to you. You weren’t sure who this strange boy was, but the thought of trying to open another kimbap frustrated you to the point of tears—again.

In a panic, he swiped it from you, urging you to quiet down so passersby would stop staring. The crinkling of the plastic was enough to spur your curiosity as you watched him move swiftly, pulling it apart with ease.

“Here,” he had said, his voice octaves higher than it was now. He had watched you fondly as you devoured the snack, your cheeks full and a smile gracing your lips.

Not a lot had changed since then, especially that warm smile of yours that brought him comfort after a long day. He chuckled as you shoved the rice into your mouth, the seaweed producing a gratifying crunch as you bit down.

“You don’t change, do you?”

“What? I’m starving,” you said.

“They don’t feed you at work?”

You shook your head. “Honestly, when I’m in the zone, I forget that I’m hungry until I leave.”

“You need to take care of yourself,” he nagged.

“I do. I just sometimes forget to eat. It’s no big deal.”

Cheol took another swig of his beer, the cold liquid contrasting the burn of the alcohol as it went down his throat. “It’s no big deal until you get sick.”

“Okay, Dad,” you sneered. “Geez. I’m eating now, so it’s fine.”

Seungcheol gave you the look, and you groaned. When his eyebrows furrowed the way that they did, you knew he was going to lecture you. Part of you appreciated how much he cared about you, but sometimes it was too much. You had moved to the city to get away from your own nagging mother only to be accompanied by another nagging parent. “Don’t tell me you’ve been eating like this?” He took your silence as an answer and continued, “You need to eat real food.”

“Well, I don’t think this is imaginary,” you quipped.

“I don’t need your sarcasm. I’m serious.”

“Cheol, I’m fine. Really.” Your limbs started to shake the longer the two of you sat outside. “Wanna come up for tea? Where it’s warm?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t,” he said, a sigh escaping his lips. “The wife is waiting for me at home.”

You cowered at the word. Even though he had been married for almost two years, it still sounded strange and unfamiliar coming from his mouth.

“I’ll call you, yeah?” He let out an aching groan as he stood up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants.

You nodded, but it wasn’t like he saw you, his eyes already fixed on his BMW. You watched as he left you on the playground alone, his body disappearing as he entered his car and drove off. This wasn’t an unfamiliar sight for you: Seungcheol’s back as he walked away. In fact, it was a sight that you knew well.

All too well.

———

“You’re stupid, you know that?” Dahyun’s words were piercing, but it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that come from her sharp tongue. As a matter of fact, it was almost a daily occurrence, some variation of being “stupid,” “clueless,” “naive,” or whatever word she could find in her vocabulary brought up whenever you mentioned Seungcheol.

You stared ahead, your eyes preoccupied on the golden glow the light cast upon the bottles in front of you as the two of you sat at the bar on a Friday night. Dahyun’s glare could burn holes through your skull, but you paid her no attention, instead choosing to lift the glass of whiskey on the rocks to your lips. The smokey aroma hit your nose first as you braced for the impact of the harsh liquor on your tongue.

The first time you’d had it was in university—Seungcheol had somehow convinced you to come to his business club’s social mixer at the local bar everyone frequented. Even back then he had a wide frame that filled out his university jacket nicely, your school’s name embroidered across the back. He had excitedly introduced you to his club members and asked if you wanted anything to drink. Considering you’d had a midterm the following morning, you told him, “Just a coke,” but he had insisted you make it a jack and coke instead.

“You like that?” he had asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s not bad. What are you drinking?”

“Just a whiskey. Neat.” Seungcheol had always been a goofy kid growing up, but when you two got to university, he had somehow grown into this handsome, charming man who you barely recognized. Nonetheless, he was still your best friend, and you were grateful he thought the same of you. Even then in the bar, you couldn’t miss the way some of his fellow club members ogled at him, but his attention was on you. “Want some?”

A sense of pride washed over you as you took his drink from his hands and drank from the same cup his lips touched, relishing in the jealousy of the other girls who wished they could be you.

The moment the liquid entered your mouth, you nearly spit it back out into his cup.

You hated whiskey.

Yet, you continued to drink it on certain nights because you wondered if that’s what his lips tasted like. If this was the closest you could get to him, then so be it.

“God, can’t you drink something besides whiskey? Or at least add some coke like a normal person.” The tone in her voice made it clear that she was fed up with your actions once again. Yet, despite her constant pestering, you were her best friend after all, and her concern came from a place of love. It saddened her to watch you make one mistake after the other, but what if you didn’t want her best intentions? “It’s disgusting. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“Worry about finishing your cocktail before you nag me about my drink,” you replied, taking another sip of the forsaken liquid.

“What’s up with her?” Another voice brought you out of your slight daze, your eyes moving to the bartender.

“She’s caught up on him,” Dahyun spoke for you, leaning back in the stool and pretending to examine her martini. She set the glass down and fiddled with the olive in the cup, her attention turning to the man in front of you both.

The bartender was wiping down a glass when he let out a quiet chuckle. “The childhood friend, right?”

“Vernon, please. I don’t need you involved in this, too.” Vernon was a college friend of yours and also the head bartender of this pub that you and Dahyun frequented. The latter swung her legs around on the stool to reposition herself to face Vernon, placing her head in her hands as she looked at him.

“She’s hopeless. Help me out, Vern,” she begged, batting her eyelashes at him.

Vernon blushed, his eyes skirting to the glass he had been wiping for the last five minutes. Dahyun made him shy, and you all knew that, but she didn’t care. He let out a huff of air through his nose, the corner of his lips turning up into a small smirk. “Look, I don’t want to get involved—”

“Then don’t,” you interrupted. You took another sip of the whiskey before swirling the golden drink around in the cup and observing the way it moved with elegance around the big block of ice.

“But,” he continued, “I do think you’re an addict.”

You looked up at him, puzzled by his choice of words. “A what?”

“You’re addicted to him.” It was irking how nonchalant he was as he set down the glass. He propped himself against the counter, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up just below his elbows, exposing his forearms.

“What the fuck?”

“He’s right,” Dahyun chimed in. You could see the lightbulb turn on in her head, and you were not ready for where she was going to take this. “He’s a drug you can’t quit.”

“He’s not a drug,” you argued. “He’s a human.”

“Ever heard of a metaphor?” she quipped back.

Ugh.

She took another sip of her drink before continuing, “Besides, he’s married.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re still caught up on him.”

The blood within your veins began to boil. “I’m not ‘caught up’ on him,” you disputed, throwing your fingers up to make air quotes. “He’s my best friend.”

“No, I’m your best friend. You’re in love with him.”

“I can have more than one best friend,” you argued back.

“Yeah, sure. But he’s not your best friend if you’re in love with him.”

“Why can’t it be both—” you caught yourself. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dahyun’s lips.

Check fucking mate.

“Look,” you began. Whatever came out of your mouth next, you knew neither Dahyun nor Vernon would believe you, but you’d give it a try anyway. “My friendship with him is more important than whatever feelings I have for him.”

“You’re telling me you’d rather suffer for the rest of your life if that means you don’t lose him?” Dahyun probed with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not suffering.” Now, Dahyun knew you were lying by the way you refused to look into her eyes, your fingers fidgeting with your glass.

“You’re pathetic.”

You were used to the insults Dahyun threw your way, but this time, she meant what she said, and it pierced your heart knowing that this was what she thought of you. She chugged the remainder of her drink and slid the empty glass across the bar. “I’m going to go dance. Thanks for the drink, Vern.”

He nodded at her, watching her slink away to where the crowd of people were.

“Ouch.” You had completely forgotten about Vernon’s existence, typical of a guy like him who seldom had much to say. Even he knew that Dahyun’s words weren’t meant to be taken lightly, and he had to agree with her.

Even you agreed with her. You were pathetic—waiting around for someone who would never be yours, watching him love someone else, someone who wasn’t you, and despite all this, you continued to stick around like a lovesick fool.

So, yeah.

The word weighed heavy in your chest as you tapped the counter signaling to Vernon that you wanted another drink. He handed you another whiskey, the strong smell hitting your nose before you could even bring it to your lips. Instead of curiosity, a wave of nausea came over you instead.

Suddenly, whiskey didn’t seem so intriguing anymore.

———

It happened while you were trying to forget him.

They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So, that’s what you did. And that’s how you found yourself under a stranger that night, someone who had offered to buy you a different drink when he saw that yours had gone untouched for a while.

Instead, he bought you a cosmopolitan, citing you might enjoy it more. And maybe it was a little presumptuous of him to assume such a thing, but you had to admit that it was certainly better than what you had been drinking all these years. It also made you feel giddier and more confident when the whiskey only made you feel sad, and maybe that was why you agreed to go home with him.

It felt good though, his skin against yours, just the two of you in the darkness of his bachelor pad. The way he moved was gentle and careful, as if somehow he knew you were in a fragile state of mind. He moved his hands to your waist, lifting your shirt so gingerly as he slotted his legs between yours, pushing them apart to make room for himself on the bed.

Your breathing grew heavy, and you closed your eyes. Suddenly, you were met with a familiar face: his frosty skin that contrasted his jet black hair, his long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked, those plump, whiskey lips that you so badly wanted to kiss—

“Seungcheol,” you gasped. The weight on your body was now gone and you opened your eyes.

Fuck. The man above you sure as hell wasn’t Seungcheol and he looked just as confused as you, if not more.

You hated to admit it, but Dahyun and Vernon were right: you were addicted.

“Shit. I am so sorry,” you blurted out.

“Look, I don’t know who this Sungchil—”

“Seungcheol,” you corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” he replied, waving you off. “I don’t know who he is, but let me be the one to show you a good time.” Without missing another beat, he planted his lips against your neck, but the mood was ruined and you couldn’t go a single second without thinking about your best friend. You had a problem and maybe this was the wake-up call you needed.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.” You sat up and grabbed your things, fumbling in the darkness to hastily put your shoes on and get the fuck out of there.

The night was cold—freezing even—the brisk air nipping at your cheeks as you waited for a taxi to come. A lot had happened that night, and as you stood there, legs shaking, you made a decision.

You would quit Seungcheol.

For good.

———

Once upon a time, you and Seungcheol were terrible students: you would ditch class to go get rice cakes and sausage from the street vendor right outside the school, and when the bell rang, while most of your peers were rushing to get to cram school, the two of you would go to a nearby diner and dick around until the sun set.

Yet, despite your poor habits, you still ended up in the top ten students of your class and Seungcheol, well, let’s just say he was lucky to have such a smart friend like you. Though, none of that mattered in the end as you landed your dream job doing branding design and marketing at a renowned company, and he was the department manager for a food supply conglomerate. One look at you two, and everyone would think you had everything you could ever want. And while that was mostly true, there was one thing you wanted but could never have.

Your best friend.

You were busy typing out an email to a client, your finger aggressively clacking against the plastic keys. If someone heard you, they might think you were chewing someone out, but you were just a loud typer was all. Everyone had already left the office, and you were the last one there, the lights turning off slowly one-by-one. That was your sign to leave. As you were packing up, your phone vibrated on your desk.

1 new message from Cheollie.

2 new messages from Cheollie.

Your eyes glazed over the notification.

You desperately wanted to open the message, a selfish part of you hoping that maybe he would have some epiphany that you were the love of his life and that he’s so sorry it took him this long to realize.

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was married. He was happy. He was happy and married. You would never be the reason for his happiness.

But… what if…? Your face was illuminated by the blue light of your phone, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness as the lights around you shut off for good. When you opened his message, your shoulders dropped.

Look at this guy LOL

[1 attachment]

You opened the message to find a photo of some guy wearing denim shorts, crocs, and a cowboy hat.

Dear god. Is this what the world has come to? You let out a chuckle, your head betraying your heart as you went to type a response.

You stopped yourself.

No. You shouldn’t. Replying to him would only open the door for conversation, which was the last thing you needed right now.

The road to healing was a long one, but you could do it if you put your mind to it. Or, at least that’s what you told yourself every morning. In the beginning, it was difficult not to respond to Seungcheol’s messages almost immediately or send him pictures of what you were eating for lunch and dinner. But as the days went on, it became a little bit easier, the temptation fizzling out as you responded to him late or left him on read.

At first, Seungcheol just assumed that it was because you were busy with work, but when he saw that the little ‘1’ by his message was gone and he still hadn’t received a response, that’s when he began to worry.

To say you were surprised to see him standing awkwardly outside your apartment with a plastic bag would be an understatement. And also completely unhelpful if you were going to quit him for good like you had claimed.

Yet, here he was, loitering in the cold, though this time, he was wearing his favorite maroon, Moncler puffer jacket. He was kicking the ground like a little child playing with the rocks around him until he saw your shadow. Your heart dropped when he looked up at you, his face beaming under the shitty light of your building.

“Hi,” he greeted you quietly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Geez, not even a ‘hi’ back?” he joked.

To be fair, you were still processing his sudden appearance in front of your house. Usually, he’d shoot you a text or a quick phone call to let you know he was coming. But tonight, he was here, completely unannounced because a part of him wondered if you’d ignore him if he tried to reach out, and he was too scared to find out.

So, here he was.

“Hi, Seungcheol,” you caved, the tone of your voice sounding more like an exasperated mother than someone excited to see their best friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought dalkgalbi and beer,” he replied, lifting the bag. You recognized the black chicken on the logo—your favorite restaurant. You’d be crazy to say no, so you just nodded your head towards the entrance as the two of you entered the building. Pressing the elevator button, you stood in silence as you ascended the eight stories it took to get to your apartment.

The path to your unit was second nature to Seungcheol—he had spent many of his days at your place even before he had gotten married. He even knew your passcode to get in, expertly entering the numbers as if he was the one who lived there and not you.

Quitting him would be a lot harder than you thought.

You sat on your couch, unpacking the bag while he moved effortlessly in your kitchen, from grabbing plates and utensils to filling up the water pitcher like it was second nature. You had lived in this apartment since college, and Seungcheol spent most, if not all, of his days there with you like it was his own home. You even had a spare blanket and pillow for him and, not to mention, the spare toothbrush you kept for him in the cup on your bathroom sink. Once upon a time, he had a pair of slippers there, too, and your mom would often mistake them for your boyfriend’s.

“They’re not my boyfriend’s,” you’d painstakingly correct her, though you had wished they were.

If Dahyun had been longing for her best friend who was married, you would have called her pathetic, too. The more you thought back to that night at the bar and that stranger’s home, the throbbing in your head grew worse.

“What happened here?” he asked, setting everything down on the table in front of you. Your apartment was in complete disarray, random pieces of paper scattered here and there, about three loads of laundry were piled on your couch. For the past few weeks, you had been so busy at work that you rarely had energy to clean or put clothes away, so in the mornings, you’d pick the least wrinkled articles and throw those on for the day, swearing you’d put everything away when you came home that night. But you never did.

“Work’s kept me busy,” you stated, opening the containers of spicy stir-fried chicken covered in mounds of mozzarella cheese. The spice was the first to hit your nose, and you embraced its warmth briefly before digging in with your chopsticks. Seungcheol watched you fondly, a never-ending string of cheese stretching from the container to your mouth.

“Here,” he motioned, handing you a sizable portion wrapped in lettuce. You didn’t grab the wrap from him, instead just opening your mouth and biting a huge chunk off. The spice of the sauce was cleanly contrasted by the lettuce and the pickled radish that he had put inside for you. Continuing to munch on the dinner, you opened the can of beer and poured it into the glasses Seungcheol had gotten earlier.

“Thanks,” you said as you chewed, huffing from the heat and spice of the meat.

Seungcheol quirked his eyebrow at you, slightly aghast at the sight of your stuffed cheeks. “Finish eating before you speak,” he scolded, using a napkin to wipe the sauce from the corner of your mouth. It was the little things like this that always made your heart flutter, but when he was always nagging you, a part of you wondered if maybe Seungcheol saw you more as a little sister instead of as a woman.

“You never answered my question,” you prodded, your eyes zeroing in on the shiny metal on his finger. He froze, pulling his hand away from you.

“What, I can’t visit my friend?”

“You can, but you usually call.”

Honestly, Seungcheol didn’t have a good enough excuse other than, “I forgot.”

Deciding not to interrogate him any further, you accepted his response and moved on. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.” And there it was again. Those killer words and actions that sliced and punctured your heart, slowly wearing it away until there was nothing left but bits and pieces. He was making this really difficult, but you were steadfast in your resolution: after tonight, you would quit him no matter what.

For the remainder of the evening, you and Seungcheol cleared out the dakgalbi and several cans of beer while watching the latest episode of Thirty-Nine. It was common for you both to watch TV shows and movies together; though he was known for his intimidating look and build, Seungcheol had quite the affinity for romance movies and shows. In college, you would sometimes skip the parties and spend the night watching rom-coms instead. It was almost like a tradition for you two to have a marathon when you felt too lazy to do anything or felt that you “deserved” it after submitting your midterms and finals.

You didn’t know this, but that was one of his favorite things to do with you until you started dating Yanan, a generally sweet guy, but he had a tendency for jealousy, and so your movie nights became more scarce. Seungcheol and Yanan never got along; Yanan didn’t like that your closest friend was a guy, and Seungcheol didn’t like that the closest guy to you wasn’t him. When the two of them were together, it was a constant competition for your attention.

Yanan was your standard, run-of-the-mill guy from the countryside: gentlemanly, sweet, and he always looked out for you. You felt protected when you stood next to him. It didn’t help that he was also tall with broad shoulders (thanks to his history as a swimmer), and he had the kind of smile that lit up the whole room, that cheesy, Taylor-Swift-lyrics type of smile that was contagious. You were happy with Yanan.

For a while. Those once saccharine smiles turned sour, and you had found yourself arguing with him almost daily. The problem?

Seungcheol.

Yanan had had enough of your friendship with him, forcing you to choose between your boyfriend and your best friend. And though you thought you loved Yanan, you were absolutely sure you loved Seungcheol too much to just throw away your friendship for a guy.

Coincidentally, Seungcheol started dating Sookyung around this time; you were happy for him—of course you were—but you weren’t immune to the little green monster’s poison that seeped through your veins. Just like Seungcheol had seen less and less of you when you were with Yanan, the two of you didn’t seem to have many moments to be alone anymore.

Sookyung was sweet, like, truly, genuinely the sweetest person you’d ever known. She was kind and beautiful and had long, brown tresses that swayed with her body when she moved. And most importantly? She made Seungcheol happy. When he introduced her to you, you wanted to find a reason, any reason, to dislike her, but she was flawless. When you swore like a sailor and sat with your legs wide open, she would cover her mouth when she laughed, her legs crossed like a proper lady.

You were one of the boys, and she was Seungcheol’s girl. Still, you clung onto the hope that maybe they’d break up, and maybe you would have your best friend back.

That never happened.

What did happen, though, was the worst day of your life—the day Seungcheol got on one knee and pulled out a sparkly diamond ring, the words, “Will you marry me?” sounding like a foreign language coming out of his mouth.

And lucky you, you got to be there for the supposedly joyous moment, but instead, your whole world had just shattered. Perhaps even worse than the proposal, worse than Sookyung saying “yes,” was when Seungcheol asked you to be his fiancée’s bridesmaid. What were you going to say? No?

And so you, being the infatuated fool that you were, agreed, saying the little word that was so simple, yet so devastating. “Yes,” you had told him. “Absolutely. I’ll do it. Anything for you.”

Anything.

To be fair, you thought maybe by then you’d be over him, dating someone else, someone who made you not just happy but happier. As if your life couldn’t fall apart any more than it already had, you were also heavily involved in the wedding planning process. Sookyung always asked you to help with this and that because she and Seungcheol “trusted your eye for design.” Curse your artistic gifts—you never thought they’d bite you in the ass like this. Yet, you obliged, going to cake tastings, helping Sookyung pick out linens, and lending a hand in arranging the florist and caterers. Hell, you were practically their wedding planner.

And what sealed your fate was the day you went wedding dress shopping with Sookyung. You wondered if maybe one day that would be you standing on the stage, mirrors and loved ones surrounding you while you evaluated the white gown on your body, clipped in the back to fit you.

She was stunning.

Stepping out of the fitting room with an ecstatic fitting assistant, Sookyung looked effortlessly beautiful in the lace gown, tulle draping down her sides in a stunning A-line silhouette. You were breathless looking at her, and you understood then, in that moment, why anyone loved her—why Seungcheol loved her. If this was the effect she had on you, you could only imagine how your best friend would feel seeing her walk down the aisle, and lucky you, you were going to be the one to bear witness to it all.

“Well,” Seungcheol spoke, grunting as he stood up to throw away your trash, “guess it’s time to go home.”

You looked at the clock. 11:48 PM. It had been a while since he had been over this late, and you hadn’t realized how much time passed in your daze.

“You should tell Sookyung to come over for dinner one of these days,” you proposed, though your words were a bit empty.

“Yeah.” There was a pause, as if he was searching for the right thing to say. “I will.”

He made his way to the sink, ready to wash the utensils, but you stopped him. “I’ll do them. Go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late.”

“Okay.”

You watched him put on his sneakers, that all-too-familiar view of his back haunting you. He let out a deep sigh as he stood up again, turning to look at you. There was a fond look in his eyes as he pressed his lips into a tight smile, causing a dimple to form in his cheek.

The thing about Seungcheol was that he hated goodbyes, and so he never said them to you. To him, goodbyes meant the end, and your friendship was forever. He was a firm believer in that stupid saying, “It’s not ‘goodbye,’ it’s ‘see you later,’” and as cheesy as it was, you obliged him, never saying “goodbye” to him either.

“I’ll call you,” he said before turning to go down the hall where the elevators were.

“Good, dickhead.”

He let out a hearty laugh. Regardless of how crude your words were, they brought a level of comfort to him. You waved at him until he was no longer in your sight.

Goodbye, Seungcheol.

———

“Are you going to take it?” Dahyun exclaimed, grasping your hand in both of hers.

“That’s if I pass the interview first,” you replied with nonchalance, taking a sip of your cosmo.

“Of course you’re going to pass the interview. You’re going to get it, dummy. No one deserves that job more than you.”

You hoped Dahyun was right. You had been with your marketing company for the past four years, and an opening for a manager position had become available. The only catch was that you’d have to move two hours outside of the city, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. With him out of sight, he’d certainly be out of mind, and quitting would become easier than it was now.

“You’re moving?” Vernon asked.

“Hi, Vern,” Dahyun said with a sly smile. You watched the bartender’s ears turn red as he nodded at her in return but turned his attention back to you. “Yes, she is.”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe,” you corrected her.

“Does this have anything to do with your friend?” he interrogated.

“No.”

Vernon shot you a pointed look.

“Maybe.” You chugged the remainder of the vodka in your glass, the alcohol burning your throat as it went down, warming your body from within.

The following morning, you packed your bags and threw them into the back of your shabby Honda Accord—though it was old, you could always trust it to get you where you needed to be. You had taken a few days off from work to go to this interview; you needed a break, and maybe a couple extra days would help you prepare for this interview and, most importantly, clear your mind from everything that was plaguing you.

It was only a three-day trip, but you were excited to get away and even potentially land this job—if not, maybe it was time for you to find a different company. Regardless of what happened, it was a much-needed break. In the days prior, you had made a sort of “breakup” playlist even though technically you and Seungcheol had never been together, but maybe blasting songs about how you deserved better would actually trick you into thinking such a thing.

You deserved to be someone’s first choice—not their second—and you kept telling yourself this during your drive, the road to your hotel seemingly never ending. You pulled up outside a large building; the company had paid for you to stay here, and you were thankful for it. Despite your current pay grade, you were still a bit of a cheapskate, and if it had been up to you, you’d have booked a cheaper place, but this wasn’t your money, so you didn’t care.

After you checked in, you were given a balcony room on the eighth floor with a view of the river. The floors were a clean, white tile, and it was a large, spacious room, one that was much too big for a single person, but again, it wasn’t your money, and you weren’t about to complain. You had a couple days before your interview, and despite being in a new city, all you really wanted to do was, well, nothing. You opened your maps app and looked for nearby restaurants and things to do—someone had recommended a walk by the river, and given your current view, it didn’t seem to be too far away. A long walk along the river sounded perfect.

It was the best decision you had made—even though the weather was below freezing, the walk was refreshing, and you realized that you hadn’t had much time to stretch your legs these days. Your job required you to be glued to your desk and chair nearly 24/7, and you couldn’t find it in you to make time to go to the gym.

Sometimes, life was better when you didn’t have a plan, so you decided just to walk wherever your legs would take you, only checking your phone in case someone texted or called you about the job. The frigid air bit the skin on your cheeks, which made you stuff your face deeper into your coat, your hands shoved into the depths of your pockets, but this was a pain you preferred to the other one you felt in your heart. Not many people were out right now; most people, you assumed, were staying warm in the comforts of their home instead of taking walks along the river in glacial temperatures.

When your legs began to grow sore and the muscles in your knees tightened, you decided that it was best for you to return to your hotel before you became too tired. The door unlocked after a melodic beep, and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, hoping the comforter would swallow you whole. The fabric was cool against your face as you stared blankly at the wall pondering your life—how did you get here, being hopelessly in love with your best friend? What would have happened if you had just told him no? If you had just quit him early on? Maybe you would have been much happier than you were now instead of running away from your problems.

Hunger prevailed as your stomach growled; the prior walk had taken too much out of you that you decided you would just go down to the convenience store right outside the hotel and grab some ramen and maybe a couple cans of beer. A smart person wouldn’t have been so lazy and would have explored the area that they might be moving to, but a smart person also wouldn’t have been in love with their best friend or agreed to be his wife’s bridesmaid or secretly wish for him to divorce said wife.

But hey, you weren’t a genius. Nor were you a saint. You knew this, yet you still hated yourself for feeling this way, but at the same time, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of your feelings for Seungcheol.

You shook your head.

No.

You wouldn’t think of him while you were gone. Out of sight, out of mind. That was how the saying went, right?

Closing your eyes, you let the harsh hotel light seep through your eyelids. Just then, your brief moment of peace was disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing.

Speak of the fucking devil.

You unlocked your phone and sat up.

“Hey,” you said, trying your best to sound enthusiastic.

Cheollie wants to turn on video.

Accept?

Accept.

“Where are you? You home?”

“No, I’m… out of town.”

“For what?”

“Business meeting.” Obviously, that was a lie. You were interviewing for the manager position, and if you got it, you’d be moving out here for the foreseeable future. He didn’t have to know that, though.

“Oh. Nearby?”

“Ish?”

“Give me a room tour.”

“Okay.”

You flipped the camera around and showed him the room the company had booked for you—a Premium Deluxe Queen Suite with a Balcony and View of the River. It was pretty fucking nice and you were thankful your boss was onboard with letting you come for four days instead of two.

“Damn, luxury living,” Seungcheol drawled out.

“I know, isn’t this shit nice?”

“For a meeting? When did they start rolling in money?”

“Gotta thank those angel investors for believing in us.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Cheol. What are you? My mother?” Your voice was starting to sound defensive, even you knew this, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re not eating ramen and beer are you?”

You paused, eyeing the cups and cans on your bedside table. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“What’s the address of the hotel you’re staying at?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna order you delivery.”

“I’m fine—”

“Address. Now.” You groaned and sent him your location over messages. “Room number?”

“808.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not getting delivery now, are you? I’m about to eat.”

“No, but expect it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Tomorrow came when you opened your eyes, the sunlight barely able to come through those blackout curtains of the hotel. Propping yourself up, you checked your phone.

Have a good conference :)

It was actually irritating how supportive Seungcheol was, but you guessed that’s what best friends were supposed to do. Be supportive and not fall in love with each other. Maybe you should take note of that.

You murmured self-affirmations to yourself as you craned your neck towards the mirror, pulling the mascara wand up and away from your lashes to give them some length and volume. To pull your look together, you picked your favorite lip tint, a classy and chic mauve that looked natural but put together.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your grey blazer and matching trousers and slipped your feet into your black block heels—you were going to make today your bitch.

Your interview process was split into two sessions throughout the day: a group session in the morning and a solo interview in the afternoon. Despite your nerves and anxiety, when you arrived at the conference rooms of the building, a sudden burst of confidence surged through your veins, invigorating your spirit with such electricity that you nearly blacked out from the adrenaline rush.

To say that you thought the day went well would be an understatement, and what better way to celebrate a good day than with some ramen and beer. The bell above the 7-Eleven door chimed as you nearly slammed it against the wall from excitement, whistling while your eyes scanned the various types of alcohol on display in the cooler.

Cass, Heineken, Corona, BudLight, Hite, soju, makgeolli, sake, red wine, white wine.

Hmm. Rosé seemed good. Maybe that and… peach soju, and… a Cass beer. It was a recipe for disaster, but you had two full days to recover before you had to head back to the city anyway. And you couldn’t drink on an empty stomach, so you grabbed several triangle kimbaps from the counter and threw them in your basket as well.

Yeah, this was good, you thought to yourself, already feeling drunk on the thought of what the future would bring despite not having had a single sip of your alcohol yet.

When you returned to your hotel, you turned the shower on, steam fogging up the glass immediately. You would have a relaxing shower and let your drinks cool a bit before spending the night drinking and watching whatever movies the hotel had to offer on the TV.

The hot water warmed your skin and soothed your muscles; they had been aching all day, but you hadn’t noticed the pain in all your elation. The shampoo and conditioner smelled of jasmine, tangerines, and eucalyptus, which only alleviated your senses further.

After your shower, you threw on the gratuitous robe the hotel offered, wrapped your hair up in your towel, and put the slippers—also complimentary— on to live your best, luxurious life. In all the buzz and enthusiasm, you had completely forgotten about Seungcheol’s promise of ordering delivery, that was, until you got another text from him.

How do you feel about steak tacos?

i’m more of a carnitas gal

Done.

Within the hour, there was a knock on the door—presumably your delivery—but to your surprise, your best friend (whom, mind you, you were trying to quit) was standing outside your hotel door, two plastic bags lifted above his head as he barged into your room without another word.

“I thought you were ordering delivery,” you inquired, pulling the robe over your chest. You tried your best to hide the fact that you were completely naked underneath the white fabric, covertly grabbing your pajamas and underwear from the bed before sneaking into the bathroom to change. Fortunately, he had his back to you while he unpacked the food.

“I am the delivery,” he replied cheekily. God, you hated him right now, but the smell of those tacos were more enticing than your supposed hatred for your best friend.

“What are you doing here?” You stepped out, hands hurriedly drying your hair with your towel, though really you were hiding your anxiety.

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my best friend?”

“I’m just…” you paused, contemplating the right words to say. Devastated? Upset? Shocked? What word could really capture the way you were feeling right then and there? “…surprised to see you.”

“Good, my plan worked,” he said, placing the bags on the spare space of the marble counter in your room. Pulling out the food, as well as several cans of beer, he looked at you with accomplishment. “Carnitas for the lady, steak for me.”

For the lady. In an alternate universe, ‘lady’ would imply that you were his lady, not just some word that wrung your heart dry like a towel. How in the world were you supposed to get over him when he was doing shit like this? Even then, you didn’t have the heart to turn him away, let alone be honest about the way he made you feel.

No.

He could never know.

It was better for everyone that your secret stayed exactly that—a secret. Sure, maybe Vernon and Dahyun knew, but that was enough because you knew that they weren’t children who would spread something like that without your permission.

“Dig in,” Seungcheol said, his eyes watching you with anticipation.

Eagerly, you picked up the taco, the aroma quickly filling your hotel room. The warmth of the tortilla and crispy pork was delicious as it melted in your mouth, contrasted by the cool, crunchy texture of the pico de gallo. Everything about this moment was perfect, again, minus the fact that the man you were in love with was married, the silver ring on his left hand glistening under the luminous hotel lights.

Sitting on your bed with him now reminded you of the days before your lives got complicated, the days when you would spend just about every waking moment together. Especially after your father passed away, Seungcheol would always take care of you, unwrapping your triangle kimbaps and poking straws through the aluminum lid of banana milks. Back then, the only thing you two were really worried about was if you had enough crumpled bills in the pockets of your uniforms for snacks after school. You didn’t know what love was or what it felt like to be consumed by a poisonous jealousy that would eat away at your soul for years on end.

Back then, things were simple.

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled out as you took a bite of your next taco. “Be careful, you’re going to get oil on the bed sheets, and then they’ll charge you extra.”

“You act like I can’t afford to pay for an extra dry cleaning service.”

“That’s not the point,” he nagged. He always nagged. Always. Whether it was about making sure you had your homework and pencils, or about the way you ate, he was always nagging. But a part of you liked it since you knew he only did it because he cared.

Would he always care about you this way? It wasn’t a complex question, but the answer wasn’t so simple. What would happen when he left? Not just the hotel, but your life? When he and Sookyung would announce that they’re having their first child? Or their second? Third? Would he still make sure you were wiping your mouth? Would he still open triangle kimbap for you? Make sure all your banana milks had a straw through the lid?

“Are you happy?”

You were in the middle of a bite when his question threw you off guard; were you?

Even if you were breaking from the inside out, even if you were suffering through one of the most painful heartbreaks in your life, he could never know that you were unhappy nor that he was the cause of it. “Yeah,” you lied with confidence. “I am. Are you?”

He was staring out the window at the river as if the moonlight glistening on the water had hypnotized him.

“Cheol?”

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. I want you to be happy,” you told him. It was true—you wanted him to be happy, but you also wanted to be the reason for his happiness.

“I want you to be happy, too,” he said with a sad smile. You could tell he had something on his mind, but if you asked, then he would tell you what was bothering him, and that would only make it harder for you to push him away.

After you had finished eating, Seungcheol took it upon himself to clean up (which only made the aching in your heart worse). He plopped down onto the bed where you were laying, your eyes fixated on the bright light fixture in the ceiling.

The two of you didn’t talk about anything of importance that night—instead, you recounted high school memories, complained about annoying coworkers, and gushed about the ending of that drama you had been watching. Despite the cans of beer that Seungcheol had brought sitting out on your vanity, they remained completely untouched for the most part (Seungcheol drank a couple and you stole a few sips of his) since he had to leave soon anyway.

Or so you thought.

Your conversations lasted hours, and before you knew it, you had passed out. The sunlight trickled into your hotel room as your eyes fluttered open to adjust to the brightness. When you adjusted your position in the bed, you felt something strange and firm under your neck—

Oh no.

This was bad. Very, very, extremely, terribly, horribly bad. Seungcheol was next to you with his arm under your head. You were sure that nothing had happened last night—you were both fully clothed—but even if you didn’t sleep together, sleeping together wasn’t a good look either, especially if someone were to walk in on you like this. It wasn’t like you could easily provide excuses as to why you were so close to your friend who, mind you, was in a happy marriage with a woman whom he loved very much (and wasn’t you).

Slowly, you rolled out of bed, cautious as to not disturb the sleeping lion next to you.

Even though it was your day off, you had to get out of there because the longer you stayed, the chances of you doing something you’d regret for the rest of your life increased tenfold. All you needed was your wallet which was… right next to Seungcheol on the bedside table. Great.

Your footsteps were soft against the tiled floor, your socks doing a good job of dampening each step. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were projecting some kind of fantasy onto him, but even while he was asleep, he seemed happier than he had been those other times you had seen him.

Seungcheol had insomnia, but seeing him sleep so peacefully like this, his long lashes flush against his skin, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly with each exhale, his lips that you wish you could taste, just this once—

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. He wasn’t yours in a capacity that would allow you to entertain such thoughts. Yet, maybe you would just look…

His eyes fluttered open and now you were really fucked, your face only centimeters away from his. The silence of your room drowned out your thoughts and you stood up quickly.

“Um, morning. I’m just heading out. I have another meeting with a client,” you lied. It was Saturday, but for all he knew, this could be a conference, and you were fortunate that Seungcheol had absolutely zero knowledge of the industry because you’d be more screwed than you already were. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll see you.”

Turning on your heels, you tried to walk away as quickly as possible, but you were stopped by the feeling of his hand grabbing onto yours.

“Were you about to…”

Right then and there, the blood drained from your face and your limbs went numb.

There was nothing more that you wanted than to disappear off the face of the earth, yet why was it that you were thinking about how good it felt to hold his rough hands?

“I’ll see you later,” you blurted out, yanking your hand from his and leaving the room without looking back. Not even once.

———

“Cheers!” The shouting of your coworkers and best friends were somehow able to drown out the pounding bass of the dive bar. Vernon had offered you and Dahyun free shots for the night, but since you were moving first thing in the morning, limiting yourself to a happy buzz was the farthest you would go tonight.

“I am so proud of you,” Dahyun exclaimed, planting a kiss on your cheek. This was her drunk habit—kissing her best friend and getting extremely touchy, though you didn’t mind. She was cute, giggly, and of course, more bold when she drank. You wouldn’t be surprised if somehow she managed to go home with Vernon tonight with the amount of courage she now had in her system—about time, too. They were cute and you had been trying to get them together for a while now. Any success they had, they’d have to owe it all to you.

“Thanks, boo,” you replied, the pet name coming out with ease as the alcohol swirled in your body.

“Let’s dance!” She slammed her glass against the counter (this caused Vernon to wince at the idea of his precious crystalline being smashed into pieces) and was quick to grab your hand, dragging you out to the dance floor where you weaved through warm bodies moving drunkenly to the music. Under the strobing red, blue, and green lights, you let the music and the alcohol take control of your body—for once, it felt nice to let loose and feel all your worries dissipate into the night.

On the walk home, your head buzzed from the drinks, and for the first time in a while, you were excited at the prospect of your future. Perhaps things would work out after all. As you neared your apartment, a familiar man stood outside kicking at the ground.

“Cheol?”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice was sullen.

“Tell you what?” In reality, you knew exactly what he was asking about, though you thought maybe by playing dumb, somehow that would prolong your encounter with reality, a reality that didn’t involve Seungcheol.

He furrowed his eyebrows. You hated the way he looked at you. “That you got a new job?”

A lump formed in your throat. Suddenly, it was hard to swallow. All the happiness you felt just thirty minutes ago disappeared in the blink of an eye. You thought maybe you could get away scot-free and disappear from his life quietly, but with him standing here in front of you like this, it was becoming clear that you had to face your reality.

As you searched for something, anything, to say, Seungcheol began tapping his foot against the pavement, impatient for an answer. When you didn’t respond, he scoffed. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are—”

“So, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to—”

“When? Huh? After you moved?”

“What?”

“You’re moving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

How did he know that?

“Seungcheol—”

“I can’t believe you. You are so ridiculous.”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. It didn’t matter that he was right, that you were ridiculous—hearing that from him only annoyed you.

“Well, now you know,” you responded, your tone dry and uncaring.

The incredulous laugh he let out stung and made your heart ache. “Yeah, and I had to find out from everyone except you. You know, you’re the one person I thought I could trust. I thought you trusted me.”

I do, you wanted to tell him.

“You’ve been weird since that weekend,” he said, changing the subject. How could you not feel weird when you almost found yourself kissing your married best friend? If loving a taken man was a line you weren’t supposed to cross, then almost kissing him would send you straight to hell. Worse yet, you didn’t think he would notice.

But of course he did. He was your best friend after all, and for all the moments he could be dense as fuck, he knew you like the back of his hand—or, at least he thought he did. Despite his best efforts to decipher your words and actions lately, it seemed that every conclusion he came to was dead wrong. Even now, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, your poker face doing a good job of hiding how you truly felt inside.

“I’ve just been busy,” you tried to defend yourself.

“No. You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not—”

“What aren’t you telling me? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

You kind of were, but mostly you were mad at yourself. So much could have been avoided if you had confessed your feelings to Seungcheol in university when you had the chance. Foolishly, you allowed yourself to believe that your feelings for him were fleeting, a passing moment that would come and go like the seasons. Your love had no expiration date, you’d find out later.

“No…”

“Then what is it? Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you answer my questions?”

Something in you snapped, your eyes went red, and suddenly you were shouting at the man you had loved for most of your life. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I can’t answer your questions. I don’t know why I’m acting this way. What I do know is that I want you to leave me alone.”

“No.” His voice was firm like the grasp he had on your arms, his fingers constricting around your skin. “Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I don’t fucking know!” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you tried your hardest to hold them back, your eyes looking at the ground to avoid the inevitable onslaught of emotion that would happen if you looked at him.

“Yes you do! Look at me,” he said, shaking you.

“Fine! I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I’m a fucking idiot who’s stupidly in love with you, and I can’t stand that I’ve been doing this for so long now, and I just want to get away from it all. I just want to get away from you.”

Seungcheol’s face loosened as he slowly processed your words, his brain a jumbled mess. He eased his grip on you, making it easy for you to shake him off as you two stood there awkwardly. You turned away from him, wiping the tears that were now streaming down your face.

You took a step back. “I think it’s best you don’t call me. In fact, I think we shouldn’t see each other ever again. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”

And without looking back, you turned your back on him, an ache boring through your soul as you walked inside your building.

———

The past year flew by—you had settled nicely into your job as the manager for your marketing and design firm, and your new team seemed to love you already. You had an assistant, Chan, to help schedule your meetings—something you weren’t used to—but you did enjoy the convenience that came with having him there.

Your fingers clacked away at your keyboard as you were preparing a presentation for a big client when a knocking on your door snapped you out of your zone. “Come in,” you blurted.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Chan said, peeking his head through the doorframe.

“Do I have a meeting scheduled right now? I thought I was free until the afternoon,” you replied, not looking up from your monitor.

“Nothing’s on the schedule as far as I know.”

“Okay. Let them in.” Chan nodded and opened the door, letting the guest in.

The moment you caught a glimpse of her face, you shot up from your seat. You recognized her bright eyes and high cheekbones, the way her long black hair framed her face perfectly, and the sheer elegance she exuded no matter where she went. There was only one thing that was different: her belly.

Everything about her had remained the same except now her hands were holding her stomach.

She was hesitant to come in further, and upon seeing the shock on your face, she wondered if being here was as good of an idea as she had intended. “Hi,” she said, her voice awkward like she was a teenager entering her first day of school.

“Sookyung?” You stood up immediately, rounding the corner of your desk.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she spoke.

“Yeah… it has been…” You didn’t realize you were still staring at her baby bump until your office fell dead silent, the only sounds coming from your mini-fridge and your desk fan that you kept on while you worked. “Please,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. “Sit down.”

She must have been pretty far along given the size of her belly and the noise she made when she sat on the leather cushion, relieved to be off her feet.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“I wouldn’t mind a little tea,” she replied sheepishly.

“Is jasmine okay?”

She nodded.

As you prepared the hot water, you kept your back to her, your brain running through every possible scenario as to why she was here. Yet, despite your desperate attempt to plan how you would approach this, you weren’t ready for what she was about to tell you.

When the water finished boiling, you poured it into the mugs you only pulled out for your VIP clients. “Be careful,” you warned her. “It’s hot.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the mug into her hands.

“So… what… are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Sookyung just stared into her mug, contemplating how to explain herself.

“Sorry,” you blurted. “I… I’m just surprised to see you. How… how are you doing?”

She looked up finally and met you with a hesitant smile. “Seungcheol told me you got a new job here, and I have a friend who works here as well–but I’m good. I’ve never been better actually.” Your eyes fell upon her belly again.

“How far along are you?”

“Six and a half months.”

“Wow, Soo, congratulations! You and Seungcheol must be so happy!”

Her face dropped at your mention of his name.

“Actually, that’s why I came to see you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What do you mean?”

“We… got divorced.”

“You what?”

“You guys what?” Your eyes fell on her hands, a ring decorating her left finger. “But your—”

“It was a long time coming,” she chuckled softly. “This is from someone else.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘It was a long time coming’? You guys were fine.”

“Is that what it seemed like?”

It was. But you also couldn’t remember the last time Seungcheol had talked about his married life with Sookyung.

“We fought a lot,” she continued. “Like, a lot.”

“Soo, I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she offered, yet an abrupt wave of guilt washed over you. “Do you remember our wedding day?”

You nodded.

———

Of course you remembered their wedding day—who could forget the way Seungcheol looked at you when you arrived after telling him you wouldn’t make it? The two of you had gotten into a nasty fight just weeks prior when you had asked him if he was sure jumping into marriage was the right choice.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he had said. In all your years of friendship, you had never gotten into a fight as bad as this one, but neither of you would back down because of your pride.

“You’ve barely been together for a year, and suddenly you’re engaged and getting married? It doesn’t make sense!”

“No, you’re just sad, and lonely, and bitter because everyone you date ends up dumping you because you can’t give them what they want.”

“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yeah. You are.” He wasn’t. He was completely right, because you could never fully give yourself to anyone. Your heart belonged to one person, and one person only: him. But you couldn’t tell him that.

“If you’re going to be like this, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t even think about showing up to the wedding.”

You swore your heart dropped to the floor. You knew you should have turned around and apologized, but you let your stubbornness get the best of you as you slammed his door behind you.

Neither of you meant any of the things you had said, but it didn’t reverse the damage that had already been done. You had practically been uninvited to your best friend’s wedding, and upon hearing what had happened, Sookyung was the one to reach out and tell you that she really wanted you there. You had tried to tell her that you were uninvited, but she reminded you that this was her wedding, too, but you held your line. And you were almost able to get away with it had it not been for Seungkwan begging you to drive him to the wedding hall after Soonyoung had woken up late.

None of your other friends had known about the fight, and you fully intended on dropping him off and leaving until he dragged you inside. You had missed the ceremony, but the reception was in full force, the other guests mixing and mingling with drinks in hand.

“Seungkwan—” his voice echoed through the hallway, stopping when he saw you.

“Seungcheol, congratulations!” Seungkwan exclaimed, approaching his friend with a big hug. “Now, where’s Sookyung?”

“She’s… in the other room,” Seungcheol’s voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on you instead. He had always been an open book, his emotions written all over his face, but that day, you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind.

“Great, I gotta go see her.” And with that, Seungkwan was gone, leaving the two of you alone.

“Um, hey,” you said.

“Hey.”

“C-congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

The silence was so much louder than the hooting and hollering of the guests in the reception hall.

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry for—”

You paused and looked at him. Clearing your throat, you asserted yourself. “I’m sorry for what happened a few weeks ago. I was being too overprotective of you when I should have just trusted you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said that night. I just—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” you told him, wrapping him in your arms. “I want you to know that I’m happy for you, Cheol. I really am. You’re my best friend and you deserve to be the happiest.”

He returned your embrace. “You’re my best friend, too. I couldn’t ever stand to lose you. You deserve to be the happiest, too.”

“I am,” you had said, and though that was a lie, maybe it would be true one day.

———

“I’m not following, Soo. What does your wedding day have to do with your divorce?” Your throat suddenly felt like it was constricting, depriving you of the oxygen you needed to live.

“Our wedding day… it was a mistake.” Despite everything that had happened, she still managed to smile. If you were her, you weren’t sure you could do the same. But she wasn’t you—she was Shim Sookyung, the girl everyone loved because she was just that kind and lovely.

“There’s no way. You guys are perfect for each other!” Despite that deep-seated desire in your heart that you once harbored for Seungcheol to be yours, this new reality somehow didn’t seem any better. Sure, your best friend was single now, but why was it starting to feel like all of this was your fault?

Sookyung let out a chuckle. “You guys are too similar. Seungcheol said the same thing when I asked for the divorce.”

“Soo, I’m confused. What’s going on?”

“I’ve known for a long time that we weren’t going to work. I knew that Seungcheol’s heart didn’t belong to me, but mine didn’t belong to him either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… fell in love with someone else. A long time ago. His name is Youngbin. During university, he had graduated and moved away, and I thought I would never see him again. And so I started dating Seungcheol to cope with my heartbreak. I didn’t think it would last long, but a selfish part of me wanted to hold onto him because maybe, just maybe, if I was with him long enough, I’d forget about Youngbin. But just before the wedding, Youngbin moved back and he reached out to me. He asked me to run away with him, but I told him no, I was in love with Seungcheol. We had gone through so much trouble to plan the wedding and invite everyone, I couldn’t just call it off. But I should have. I was a coward.”

“Soo…”

“I know, I’m pathetic,” she admitted. “In the beginning, things were fine. I thought, ‘Maybe I could see myself with Seungcheol for the rest of my life,’ but things turned for the worse quickly. We fought a lot over the smallest things, started sleeping in different rooms, and I was living with a man I didn’t know anymore. And you know Cheol, he never backs down.”

You nodded. You did know that, and you knew that well.

“I tried, I really tried to tell myself that this was the right decision—that he was the right decision—but ultimately, I knew the answer. We both did. It was clear from the beginning, but he was too prideful and I was too selfish to admit it.”

“So, then what about…” your voice trailed off, but your eyes pointed to her baby bump.

“Oh, it’s not Cheol’s, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she laughed. You wondered how even through all of this, she could be so calm and nonchalant. Sure, she had been nervous coming into your office, but now that she could get all of this off her chest, relief washed over her. “Youngbin and I,” she continued, now holding her belly. “We’re getting married.”

Your eyes widened and you swore you nearly dropped your mug (which, mind you, was still full of piping hot water). “Oh my god, Sookyung! That’s,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “amazing!”

“Thank you,” she smiled at you. “But this isn’t what I came here to tell you.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled with confusion. What else could she possibly tell you after dropping the bomb that she and Seungcheol were divorced and she was pregnant with another man’s baby?

“Seungcheol and I,” she continued. “We’re on good terms. He congratulated me on my engagement and the baby. I guess I just want you to know that we’re on good terms. I don’t have anything against you or Cheol. I love you guys, and I always will.”

If not for the sound of your team hustling and bustling outside, perhaps you could have heard your heart shattering.

“Soo, what are you trying to get at?”

“I think you guys should be together.”

“No.” The answer flew out of your mouth before you even had time to fully process what she was trying to tell you. “No, I couldn’t. I can’t do that to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to me. If anything, you’d be doing me a favor because then I can stop worrying about you both.”

“Worry about us? That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense is Seungcheol and I spending four years of our lives denying our hearts and trying to find the answers in each other when they were never there in the first place. You may not see it, but he loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t. You should have seen us the day before I left. He was so upset with me. We’re not friends anymore, Soo.”

“You should have seen him when he came home that night. He was heartbroken. You’re his best friend—”

“Was his best friend.”

“No, you still are. Listen to me,” she said, reaching across the table to grab your hands. “You still are his best friend. I don’t know what was said that night, but nothing will ever change that fact.”

“Sookyung—”

“Listen to me. Trust me, if not yourself. You guys really are too similar,” she laughed again. “You should talk to him. Figure out your stuff. Be happy. With each other.”

You could only shake your head. How could she possibly know how Seungcheol felt about you? If you were him, you’d never want to see you again after what happened that night. Imagine the heartbreak he felt when you, his best friend, didn’t tell him the biggest news of your life. On top of that, you had confessed your long-time love for him and declared you never wanted to see him ever again. At this point, did you even deserve happiness?

Why would he want to see you, let alone talk to you?

“I don’t know if there’s hope for us anymore.”

“How would you know if you never ask him? God,” she huffed teasingly, “you two really are similar, and I hate you both for it.”

“We are not!”

The cackle that came out of her mouth was almost insulting. “He literally said the same thing to me. Just trust me and talk to him. Please. It’s the least you could do for me.”

“Soo, please,” you groaned. You couldn’t believe she was pulling this card on you as if you hadn’t just ruined her marriage and been the cause of her divorce.

“What’s stopping you?”

“This is all my fault—”

“It’s all of our faults,” she assured you with a squeeze of your hands. The laughter that fell from her lips was as charming as ever. “We’re all idiots.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “We are, aren’t we?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

Sighing, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to her. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

She stood up from her seat on your couch, releasing your hands. “I should probably get going. Bin is waiting for me downstairs.”

You watched as she wobbled to the door. “Soo?” She turned around, surprised when you wrapped her in your arms. “Thank you.”

“Let’s all be happy, okay?”

“Okay.”

———

Hey… can we talk?

Your fingers hovered over the ‘Send’ button before finding the backspace, the letters you had written gone in a blink. Since Sookyung’s visit, you had promised her you’d talk to Seungcheol, but every time you went to message him, you chickened out.

It was only four simple words, but doubt overcame your best intentions. What if he didn’t want to talk to you? What if he was seeing someone else? What if that only made things worse? But then again, how bad could it get at that point? It’s not like you had much to lose anymore, but the mere prospect of making his loss in your life more permanent made your heart ache.

Hot oil splattered against your skin, a miniscule moment of pain for delicious, grilled pork belly with pepper paste wrapped in cool, crisp lettuce. Your team had just landed a VIP client and it was all thanks to your hard work in gaining their trust. You were happy seeing your team’s bright, smiling faces, excited to do a job they were passionate about, and in theory, you were happy about the job, too. You wanted to be laughing and celebrating with them, but your mind kept looping back to Sookyung’s words.

You still are his best friend.

Be happy. With each other.

Taeyang, your lead designer, put a glass of beer in front of you, a shot glass of soju sitting atop a pair of chopsticks. “Drink up, chief,” he said cheekily.

You smiled at him, thankful at his gesture. You slammed the table with your fists and watched the smaller glass fall to the bottom of the larger, bubbles forming as the alcohol reacted with each other, your coworker whooping and cheering as you chugged the soju bomb.

Tonight, you wanted to be able to celebrate your wins with your team rather than moping over a message to send Seungcheol, so you locked your phone and put it on ‘Do not Disturb’ as you enjoyed the grilled meat and the company of your team. Your message to him would be a matter for tomorrow.

Maybe.

By the time dinner ended, you had drank enough to have a good time and you truly had forgotten about Seungcheol. You were happy, giggly even, and hiccuping as you sent off your team one-by-one in their taxis. Fortunately, your new apartment was only a seven-minute walk from the restaurant. You waved goodbye to your colleagues before taking off towards your home.

The frigid night air was refreshing against your warm skin, and you felt yourself sobering up with every step you took. Now, all you needed was a shower and to get snuggled up under your warm comforter.

The light from the lobby of your apartment grew brighter as you got closer, but you noticed someone standing just outside the doors. You squinted to see who it was, maybe your neighbor Joshua who had forgotten his keys in his apartment again. But as your vision cleared, you recognized him immediately—how could you not know his shoulders, his hair, that favorite red puffer jacket of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets?

You were dreaming. You had to be, because why would he be here? Right? It didn’t make sense. Before you could scrutinize him any further, he turned around, a bit shocked to see you despite that being the reason he was here. In front of your apartment.

“Seungcheol?” Though a year had passed since you last saw him, his grip on your heart never loosened and you could hear it pounding in your ears.

“Um, hi,” he sniffled, his nose rosy and his breath visible from the cold air.

“What are you… how did you find my apartment?”

“Dahyun told me,” he confessed. Damn it, you couldn’t trust that girl to keep information to herself, could you?

“I… Why are you here?” Twice in one week you had asked two separate people that question, but you really didn’t understand why this was happening, and now of all times.

“Can we talk?” The words you had struggled with for the past week seemed so effortless coming from him. Little did you know that he only came here on impulse because he found himself having a hard time sending you a text as well.

“Um, yeah.” You motioned for him to follow you upstairs. The elevator ride up was quiet, which was now becoming more common for you two than not. It was strange, this new apartment of yours. For so long, Seungcheol had grown used to your old apartment, the one he knew almost as well as he knew you, but this one was uncharted territory for him. Even the elevator and lock outside your door were different. Never in his life had he felt so distant from you, and he hated every part of it.

When you entered your apartment, you haphazardly kicked off your shoes, still a bit drunk from earlier. He took his shoes off, too, arranging his and yours neatly by the door before stepping into your home. You went into the kitchen and turned the stove on, putting water into the kettle for tea.

“You can sit down,” you told him as you ripped the tea bags open.

He sat down on your couch—it was stiff and much newer than the one you’d previously had. Less broken in, he guessed. In fact, everything in your apartment was new and modern in contrast to the items you had bought second-hand at your last place. His mind wandered as you lingered in the kitchen, afraid to turn around and confront the reality that your best friend (well, ex-best friend) was sitting in your home at that very moment.

Did you ever bring other people here?

Did they know your apartment the way he knew your old one? Jealousy seeped within his veins at the idea that that was even possible.

Once the water was finished boiling, you poured it into two mugs with chamomile tea bags, the smell wafting gently into your nose. With a deep breath, you took the cups into the living room and set them down in front of him as you sat down on the chair adjacent to him.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” you said, your voice cracking slightly. Awkwardly, you stood up to open the window. Granted, with it being winter, you hadn’t opened the window for several months, so it was difficult getting it to budge now.

“Here, let me help.” Before you knew it, you felt the warmth of his body behind you. With his strength, the window opened easily, but even with the winter air coming in, the tension didn’t go down.

You both sat down again and you took your mug into your hands. It was still too hot for you to be holding it, but the heat on your palms gave you something to think about other than what possible thing Seungcheol could say to you.

“So…” you began, “how are you?”

“How have you been?”

You smiled awkwardly at each other, your grip on your mug tightening as a reflex.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Tired.” The longer you sat there, the more you started to feel the alcohol take its final toll on you, your eyes growing heavier with every passing second. Seungcheol noticed, too. Deciding it was probably best he tabled this discussion for tomorrow when you were in your right mind, he stood up.

“I think you should get some sleep instead.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you weren’t sure what was really going on anymore.

“Yeah, we can talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” His voice was soft, and even in your tipsy, sleepy state, it was comforting.

You stood up to see him out the door, but your knees buckled from under you. Seungcheol caught you in time before you fell to the ground, helping you up. He should probably make sure you get to bed without hurting yourself before he left.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.

Pointing to the closed door in the northwest corner of your living room, he led you inside and let you sit on the bed as he opened your closet, looking for pajamas for you to change into. When he opened a drawer, his heart ached—he immediately recognized a small graphic tee that peeked out from the bottom. That was his t-shirt. One that you had borrowed one time in high school when you were repainting your childhood bedroom and then claimed you “lost.” He had gotten so mad at you that he ignored you for five days until you came knocking on his door with various sweets you had baked yourself as a peace offering. It was then that he realized he could never be mad at you for too long. And it was then that he realized he wanted you to be in his life forever.

He pulled the shirt out along with a pair of pajama pants and dropped it into your lap.

“Can you get changed on your own?” he asked.

You nodded your head, the weight threatening to throw you forward. Seungcheol propped you up instead, helping you stand on your feet.

“Yeah. But don’t look,” you mumbled, pouting.

It was probably inappropriate to be thinking this way, but Seungcheol found you cute when you made that face, your eyebrows furrowed, your nose crinkled, and your bottom lip jutting out as far as it could go. It was the same face you used to make as a child when things wouldn’t go your way.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I won’t,” he assured you, turning around first just to be sure. He stood in silence, the sound of the fabric against your skin mixed with your subdued grunts filling the room as you tried to change your clothes in your drunken state. He knew he shouldn’t but he was slightly curious, so, Seungcheol, being the nosy guy he was, he turned around to peek at you.

You had somehow managed to put your head through a sleeve, your right arm moving freely in the head hole as you struggled to pull the fabric over your head. Seungcheol had to stifle his laughter as he watched your fight with the article of clothing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” you confessed.

“Do you want some help?”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Here, let me help you,” he said, closing the gap between you two. For the first time in all your years of friendship, Seungcheol had never been so close to you in such an… intimate manner. He pulled the fabric up revealing your bare back; chills ran down his spine and he suddenly felt awkward. Adjusting the shirt so your head and your arms went through the proper openings, he pulled the shirt down quickly. “There.” Why was his face so warm?

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Sure.” Moving quickly, he untucked the comforter from under the mattress and sat down on the side of your bed, tapping the spot for you to lay down. You gave way to gravity and fell with a soft thud, your head barely missing the pillow. It took a bit of rearranging, but Seungcheol was able to get you to lay properly; when he was satisfied with his work, he covered your body with the blanket, tucking you in.

With your eyes closed and your breathing quiet, you looked so peaceful like this. Seungcheol tucked a stray hair behind your ear. He had done a lot of reflecting this past year, and as much as he wished he had gained some kind of clarity, instead all he got was a rollercoaster of emotions. He spiraled into a blackhole of ‘what-ifs,’ wondering if things would have been different now if he had just confessed to you before Yanan did, or if he had listened to you that day you asked him if he was sure about his marriage.

“I hate you,” you muttered. The three little words pierced his chest, but he knew that he at least deserved that much. He hated himself, too.

“I know,” he whispered under his breath.

“I… was supposed to… quit… you…” Even in your unconscious state, you stumbled over your words as they fell clumsily from your mouth.

“What do you mean?” he asked, not expecting a response.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Okay, then I’ll leave.”

“No,” you blurted, grabbing onto the back of his shirt. “Stay.”

Your eyes were still closed, but your eyebrows were furrowed, lips pouting again.

“You said I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Don’t go.”

The wall you had built around your heart suddenly came crumbling down, and this was the first show of vulnerability he had seen from you in a long time. Hearing the cracks in your voice, Seungcheol relived that sadness he felt that day you told him ‘goodbye.’ It was a painful memory, and he never wanted to believe you meant it, but your actions said otherwise.

But here you were, laying so quietly in front of him, calmer than that night, your grip on him pretty strong for someone who was inebriated and half-asleep. You weren’t sure what possessed you in that moment—perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the fear that if he walked out now, you might never see him again.

Somehow, that one small movement made his breath hitch, his heart palpitating with such force that he was afraid you might hear it in the silence.

“I won’t go.”

And he didn’t. He stayed with you the entire night, using a spare pillow from the couch in the living room to lay on the floor.

———

Last night, no, the entirety of this past week had felt like a fever dream. From Sookyung to…

Seungcheol.

You shot up in your bed, your head throbbing from the alcohol—you rubbed your eyes of the crust that had formed overnight, and it took a minute for your vision to clear up before you could see anything. Was he really here last night? Did he leave? Did you imagine that he slept there? There was a pillow from the living room and the spare blanket you had gotten for guests which you most certainly didn’t remember getting yourself, but nobody was there.

Slowly but surely, you got out of bed and slid your feet into your plush slippers, your toes curling against the soft fabric. Opening the door to the rest of your apartment, it was dead silent, but the smell of grease was first to greet your senses. Upon closer inspection, the table had a bowl of rice and to its side, a plate of fried spam and scrambled eggs. There was even a small plate of kimchi, your favorite thing to eat after a heavy night of drinking.

Your attention was caught by the slight snoring coming from the couch behind you; Seungcheol was laying on his side, drool coming from his slightly opened mouth. It was hard to stifle your laughter, but you didn’t want to wake him—with his insomnia, you wanted to make sure he got every second of sleep he could possibly get.

What you really needed, though, was a cup of coffee. Figuring the large guy on your couch could use one, too, you perched onto your toes to grab your nicer mugs from the top shelf. These days, you had resorted to instant coffee mix in tiny paper cups you had stolen from work. Why you did this, you weren’t quite sure yourself. Maybe it was the novelty of drinking from the paper cups that reminded you of those late nights in the library and the vending machines, but something about it hit differently than fresh coffee.

Today, however, was a freshly brewed coffee kind of day. You scooped out two spoons of medium roast coffee and put it into the machine, the rumbling of the water and brewing surprising you despite how often you’d used it before.

Deciding the breakfast he had (presumably) made for you wasn’t enough for two people, you took the bowl of rice and threw it back into the rice cooker to warm it up again. As much as you appreciated his efforts to cook, that’s the most credit he would get. Just one look at the dishes on the table and you could tell the spam was burnt and the scrambled eggs were too dry to be deemed edible. With a sorry heart, you watched the contents of the plate slide into the trash can. You’d have to remake breakfast, but you knew he’d thank you for it anyway.

The aroma slowly began to fill your apartment, stimulating Seungcheol to wake up.

“I made you breakfast,” he grunted, wiping his tired eyes.

“I saw that, but this isn’t enough for the two of us, dummy.”

Hearing you call him that made him believe that things between you were almost… normal. “I wasn’t planning on eating.”

“Well, now you’re going to.” It was more of a threat than an offer, and who was he to say no?

“What are you doing?”

“Frying the spam.”

“But I already made that…” his voice trailed off when he saw that the only thing left on the table was the kimchi.

“Yeah, poorly. We can’t eat what you made.”

His signature pout came out in full force, his lips protruding from his face.

The tension from last was almost nonexistent, as if you hadn’t gotten into a big fight and spent the past year not speaking to one another, as if you hadn’t told him you didn’t want to see him again. You stood in a silence that, once unfamiliar, was now more commonplace than you’d like, the only sounds in your apartment were the sizzling of oil on the pan as you threw on fresh eggs and spam. Unsure of what to do with himself, Seungcheol just loomed over you while you cooked the food—you kind of hated it because it felt like the times your mom would just stand there and watch you intently, like, what could she possibly want from you?

What could he possibly want from you?

“Okay,” you sighed, “breakfast is done.” With a swift turn of your wrist, everything came off the pan without difficulty onto the plate, the greasy smell stirring the appetite in your belly. Scooping two bowls of now warmed rice, you set them on a small tray with some side dishes your mother had left when she visited last weekend.

You brought the food to the table, motioning for him to sit down, too. Like second nature, Seungcheol immediately grabbed a piece of spam and placed it in your bowl of rice. If you had told someone that the two of you hadn’t spoken or interacted in the last year, you were sure they wouldn’t believe you solely based on his actions.

Yet, that was your reality: gut-wrenching heartbreak, cruel words, and a debilitating distance that you thought would solve your problems. The truth was that it didn’t. In some ways, it only made it worse.

There are two sayings: “Out of sight, out of mind,” and “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

You, unfortunately, fell victim to the latter phrase. Though, perhaps “fonder” wasn’t the right word—a more accurate phrase would be, “Absence makes the heart wither away in pain and make you wish you could go back in time and completely re-do everything.” But that didn’t exactly fit on a craft store, cross-stitch pillow, did it?

“Thanks,” Seungcheol mumbled, breaking the silence, “for cooking breakfast.”

You offered a quiet chuckle. “Re-cooking breakfast,” you added. “I should thank you for at least trying in the first place.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line, the skin in his cheek caving into that favorite dimple of yours. As you two continued to eat, silence prevailed and the tension remained thicker than the grease in your pan. Suddenly, Seungcheol put his chopsticks down with more force than he intended, which caught your attention mid-bite.

“Can we talk?”

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, yeah,” you said, swallowing your mouthful. You could feel your throat constrict, almost as if you were choking.

Seungcheol looked at the bookshelf behind you, his eyes glazing over as he contemplated how to start the conversation. “So…”

“So…”

“Sookyung and I…we—”

“She told me.”

“Right.” Seungcheol cleared his throat. “She, um, she told me she stopped by.”

“Really?”

They still kept in touch?

“Yeah. So, you know that she’s…”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously as he stared at his bowl of rice that had been untouched this entire time. Where was he even going with this? On the drive over here, he had planned everything he was going to say to you, how he was sorry, how he thought that maybe he was in love with you—still in love with you— and how maybe, just maybe, you could give him another chance.

Yet, now that he was here and you were there in front of him, all of those thoughts went straight out the window.

If the silence wasn’t going to kill you, surely your anxiety would. Your knees bounced underneath the table while you clutched the excess fabric of your pants.

“How are you doing?” you asked. Although you had spent the last year trying to let go of your relationship with Cheol, you had often typed the words into an empty message without hitting send.

Just four words. It was only four words, but they held so much weight. Seungcheol had spent countless nights wanting to ask you the same thing, typing the question out before deleting it for the nth time because he didn’t have the courage to hit ‘Send.’

He didn’t think that he would hear the words from you, however, his brain working overtime to develop a response. “I…I don’t know.”

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could exactly explain how you were feeling, how much of a toll this whole thing had taken on you even though you had moved far away from him in hopes that maybe you could finally move on with your life.

Silence filled your apartment once again, and rather than eating breakfast as you had intended to do, both of you just sat there like two kids who had gotten in trouble and were waiting for the principal to come in. Only this time, there wasn’t a third person to come tell you everything that you did wrong.

That would require that you own up to your actions, and that Seungcheol owned up to his—did either of you have it in you to do that?

And even if you did, would that really change anything? Or make a difference? The rational part of you knew that it wouldn’t change much. Despite Sookyung’s truth bomb and Seungcheol’s sudden appearance, you couldn’t help but wonder where to go from here.

You had spent the past year walking this path alone, and though it was lonely at times, you really only had yourself to rely on, resolute in your decision to finally move on from your first and only love, Choi Seungcheol. So, what difference was this supposed to make?

Did he think you would accept him with open arms? That now that he was a “free man,” the two of you could just run off into the sunset, hand in hand and live happily ever?

No. It wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy.

You fiddled with the food in front of you, your chopsticks breaking apart the scrambled eggs as your brain struggled to think of a response.

Instead, it was Cheol who broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his chin tucked into his neck as he stared at the balled up fists in his lap. All you could do was stare at the crown of his head, his long, black locks giving way to gravity. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Cheol…” you managed to say.

“I don’t know what I thought would happen. I just… I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” you agreed.

“Can I be honest though?”

“Of course.”

“It was nice seeing you.”

Suddenly, tears welled up in the corner of your eyes and it felt like someone was trying to squeeze them out of your body as you fought back that urge to let them fall. All you could give him instead was a reluctant smile.

“I missed you,” he said once more. It was like he was intent on making you hurt, but not in the way he had in the past. This time, his words hit a sore spot, and you wanted to be angry that those words were said in remorse, rather than in longing. But then again, you were also to blame for the position you two were in.

“Me too,” you told him, and you can see his shoulders relax a bit when the words hit his ears.

Relief.

He had been worried that you had hated him and would scream and yell at him to get lost, and sure, you had already told him the night prior that you hated him, but you were also inebriated. There was a good chance you didn’t even remember what you had told him, so to hear you say that sober, it was reassuring.

Those were the last words you two said before finishing your breakfast, the food now cold once again. When you were done, you went to grab his dish, but Seungcheol was faster, swooping your plate and taking it to the sink. Without a word, he just turned on the water and put on the gloves. You could have stopped him, insisted that he was the guest and that you could do the dishes, but you let him have this moment. Instead, you cleaned up the counter behind him, wiping the areas where the grease from the spam had splattered everywhere.

“Give me that,” he said, gesturing to the pan. You obliged, your hands touching when he grabbed the handle from you. It wasn’t some electrifying moment that opened your third eye, but it did make you realize how much you truly missed him. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—after all, it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t touched before, but yeah, you had to admit that this kind of domestic behavior was something you missed for sure.

You stopped and leaned against the counter, your eyes trained on the movement of his back muscles as he washed the dishes vigorously. Maybe in another life, in an alternate timeline, you two could have been standing in your kitchen as lovers instead of… whatever the fuck you were now. In another life, he would finally be yours.

“I, um,” you started, your voice faltering a bit, “I have to go get some groceries.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you… want to come with me?” It was a bold move, asking him to spend even more time with you considering the tension of the previous conversation, but hey, gotta shoot your shot, right?

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, though you couldn’t see it with his back turned towards you. “Just let me finish this one dish.”

“No rush,” you reassured him. “I’m just going to go get changed real quick.”

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you realize just how truly horrible you look. Wow, you really looked like this and Seungcheol didn’t say anything? Your hair was in complete disarray, unkempt and unbrushed, the strings of your hoodie completely misaligned. You pulled the thick fabric over and off your head, tossing it onto your bed. Another glance in the mirror and you realized that the t-shirt you were wearing was… his.

Did he choose this one? Did he remember that it used to belong to him?

Even after all this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of the comfiest shirt you owned, even if it belonged to the man who had broken your heart. Though, admittedly, you hadn’t worn the shirt in over a year for a certain reason. Instead, it just sat in the drawer, getting buried by new t-shirts you had bought and shoved in there.

You had stolen his t-shirt, but he had stolen your heart.

A knock on the door startled you, causing you to instinctively cover your chest despite you being fully clothed.

“I’m done with the dishes,” Cheol spoke loudly from the other side.

“Okay! Just give me a couple minutes to change,” you replied.

“Alright, I’ll just chill on the couch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Frantically, you grabbed a pair of jeans and threw on a thick hoodie, not wanting to make him wait any longer. You emerged from your room to find him leaning back on your couch, scrolling on his phone.

When he heard the door click, he looked up at you. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

The grocery store wasn’t any more than a twenty minute walk away from your house, but it had been a while since your last trip and you needed more than you could physically carry in two hands. You’d have to drive.

Seungcheol followed you to your car, entering through the passenger side. He settled nicely into the suede of your little sedan that was much older than his luxurious BMW. But it was comfortable, and it smelled like you, he noted.

He missed this.

The drive was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was of the tires on the road. Both of you were on edge, sensitive to the other’s every movement. Fortunately, the drive was short and you arrived at the grocery store which was a bit of a ghost town in the late morning. Before you could say or do anything, Seungcheol was already making his way to the carts, pulling it out and leaning against it as you entered the store. There was something quite sobering about the way the market smelled—maybe it was the way the dead fish and meat mixed with the vegetables in the frigid air, or the perpetual pine-forest scent of whatever cleaner they used to wipe the tiles constantly.

Seungcheol followed you like a puppy as you grabbed this and that off the shelves, muttering to yourself as you checked the items off your list on your phone. Neither of you really spoke to the other unless it was to ask him to grab that bag of chips from the bottom, no, not that one, yeah, no, yeah, that one.

Even when you were checking out, he waited for you patiently, packing the items into plastic bags and putting them in the cart which he later pushed out to your car. There, he unloaded everything and returned the cart diligently. You supposed he was probably used to this because it was something he did often with Sookyung, but still, it made your heart flutter. But you were also overwhelmed by the burden of guilt in your chest. Part of you was happy to be here, with your best friend (if you could still call him that), but another part of you felt responsible for what happened to him and his wife. It was you. You were the reason why they got divorced, and even though that tiny part of you wanted this to happen, you still felt horrible.

You hated the idea of being the source of anyone’s misery, and now you were the cause of not just one, but two people’s unhappiness. This wasn’t what you wanted. This wasn’t how you pictured your life to be all those years ago when you were just a naive university student madly in love with Choi Seungcheol.

The thought weighed heavy in your mind as you drove back home in silence. Again. Once upon a time ago, you would have been laughing and listening to your favorite songs when he was by your side, but the solemn mood now was incredibly foreign to the point that you could barely recognize the man beside you.

When “I’m just going to put these away real quick,” you told him. He nodded and sat down on your couch, but instead of scrolling on your phone, he just sat there, taking in your new apartment.

It was so different than the one you had lived in previously—this one was a lot more grown up, the furniture much more elevated and minimalistic in style compared to the posters of your favorite boy band you used to have in your childhood bedroom, or the photobooth strips that hung on your college apartment, the one you had lived in until you moved here. This one felt… empty—sad—like you had never fully moved in and made it your home.

Seungcheol wondered if you felt that way, if you felt like this was your home, if you were comfortable living here, if you were…

Happy.

“Coffee?” you offered. Despite already having had coffee earlier this morning, you weren’t quite sure what to do now that it was just the two of you alone in your apartment. There wasn’t much more you could do to stall between the inevitable conversation Seungcheol had come for, but you’d do your best to try. Kicking him out seemed too harsh, but fear crept into your heart when your mind began to wander, curious as to what he had to say to you.

“Please, I’ll help you,” he said, standing up abruptly and nearly stumbling over your coffee table. You had to stifle your laughter, his actions reminding you of the goofball you loved and missed, the one you would spend hours messing around with instead of studying for your university entrance exams. “You didn’t see that,” he blurted out. His ears turned red, but he was also relieved to see you smile for the first time since he had been here.

He wished he could make you smile even more.

“It’s okay, it’ll take me only a couple seconds.”

“Are you sure?”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure, Cheol. But thank you.” That was the only thing you were sure of, that you could make coffee without his help. But everything else that followed? Not so much.

When you were finished, you brought the mugs to the table and sat down in the chair adjacent to him.

“Thank you,” he said. The once foreign silence had now become something familiar, but the awkward tension remained ever the same. Was this who you were to each other now? No longer friends, but not quite distant strangers either?

“Do you ever wish you could start over?”

You brought the mug to your lips, only to pause upon hearing his question.

“That… maybe we could start over?” He had kept walking, but when he realized you weren’t by his side, he paused, too.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied.

Of course, you knew exactly what he meant. The real answer was: yes, you had thought about this countless times, and it was the reason for your sleeplessness over many nights, but you weren’t about to just confess that to him now.

Upon hearing your response, Seungcheol’s face fell. What was he doing here anyway? Well, no matter what happened, he had a lot to get off his chest, and if he didn’t do it now, he’d never get it over with. “You know. Us.”

“Yeah,” you finally relented. “I do.”

“Where did we go wrong?” he asked, his question ending with a chuckle.

“I fell in love with you,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the cup of coffee in your hands.

“How long?”

“Since as long as I could remember.” There was a long pause, and you wished the Earth could swallow you whole. “I shouldn’t have,” you confessed. “I should have stopped loving you the moment you started dating Sookyung.”

“Why?”

“Because then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. You would still be with Sookyung and I’d—”

“I don’t love her.”

The words were colder than the winter air that swept against your cheeks. Seungcheol looked at you, as if he was looking for an answer.

“I mean, I did love her, but not like I loved you.”

Loved. Past tense.

“Then why?”

“You were with Yanan.”

“But we broke up.” Somehow, the coffee no longer seemed appetizing, the smell only nauseating you. You stood up and walked back to the kitchen where you dumped it into the sink.

“I thought… maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

“But you and Sookyung were?” You looked up, but Seungcheol was no longer on the couch—instead, he had followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the threshold as he curiously watched you wash the cup.

He shrugged. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Instead, he gave you an answer: “I thought we were.”

Silence, and then a beat.

“You were my best friend, you know?”

Yeah, you knew perfectly well.

“And best friends don’t fall in love.”

No, they don’t.

“And I think I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“The consequences.”

“Of?”

“Telling you.” Seungcheol wished you would look at him, but he understood that you were nervous—he was, too.

You knew exactly what he meant, and now you understood maybe why you were in the position you were in.

“We’re cowards,” you laughed, pausing your mindless dishwashing.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” he let out a hearty chuckle. Maybe, instead of dating Sookyung to cope with your relationship with Yanan, he should have fought harder for you. But he was young and stupid. You both were.

Perhaps neither of you would be in this impossible situation had you just been honest with one another in the first place, regardless of the consequences.

“Hey,” he said. He was now standing right next to you, grabbing the mug from your hands and placing it in the sink carefully. Goosebumps formed on your arm when you felt his skin on yours, his rough hands taking hold of your own. “Let’s start over, okay?” Squeezing your hand with intent, he leaned forward to look you in the eyes, his face serious and without a shred of doubt. “Let’s… let’s start over and do this the right way.”

You froze. This was the moment you had been waiting for who knows how long, but why did that voice inside you keep telling you no? They say the eyes are the window to the soul, yet when Seungcheol looked into yours, he had a hard time reading what could possibly be running through your head right now.

“Come on,” he said, closing the gap between you. You didn’t know it was possible to be even closer than you already were, but he managed to do it. “What do you say?”

You had spent countless days and nights dreaming of the day you would be this close to Seungcheol, your hands in his, his face so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You were so close, in fact, that one miniscule movement and you would finally know what it feels like to feel his lips, to taste them.

You stepped back, pulling your hands out of his grip, the only thing your head could do was shake back and forth. “No…” you whispered. “I-I can’t.”

His eyebrows furrow at your words as if he doesn’t quite process what he’s hearing. “What?”

“We can’t, Cheol.”

“What do you mean we can’t?” Concern grew on his face as he tried to close the space between you, but you only stepped back in reflex.

“We just can’t.”

“You’re not making sense.” You could sense the annoyance interlaced in his voice, but you understood why. “Explain it to me so I can understand why.”

“It’s too late. For you. For me. The damage has been done. We can’t go back in time, we can’t undo the years of longing and pining, and we can’t just… start over.”

“Why not?”

“You still don’t understand?”

“No. I don’t.”

“We hurt each other. And not just each other, but others, too. Look at Sookyung—”

And that’s when Seungcheol understood exactly what you were saying. Or, rather, what you were trying to convince him of, if not yourself.

“Stop—”

“You married her and you were supposed to be together forever, but then you guys got divorced because of me—” you continued to ramble on, your eyes staring out at the sunlight sparkling on the surface of the water, completely unaware that Seungcheol was approaching you again.

“Stop!” Seungcheol’s loud voice echoed in your quiet apartment. “When are you going to stop making up excuses and blaming others for your own fears?”

The blood in your veins began to boil at his accusations. “I’m not blaming anyone.”

“You are. You said we were cowards. But you? You still are.”

“I am not,” you contested, raising your voice to match his.

“Then why? Why won’t you stop being afraid and take a chance?” He paused. Realizing he had been shouting, he lowered his voice and continued, “With me?”

You could no longer face him, turning around to hide the tears that threaten to fall. The only sound in your apartment now was the ticking of your clock and your and Seungcheol’s heavy breathing.

You jumped when you felt his hands wrap around your arms and turn you around to face him. “Look at me.”

“Cheol, please—”

“I said, look at me.” When your gaze met his, his fingers loosened their grip and his face softened. “I’m going to say something, but I need you to let me finish, okay?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“We can start over—”

“Seungcheol—”

“Listen, please. We’ve spent our whole lives lying to each other—to ourselves—but now? Now, we can finally be honest. We can be honest about how we feel and we can start over.”

Your heart palpitated in your chest, and despite the embarrassment that grew within you, you never once took your eyes off of him.

“I’ll start,” he continued. “I can’t lie to you, or myself, anymore. I love you. I am in love with you.” You could have swore your heart shattered upon hearing those words come from his lips. “You are the woman I’ve always wanted to be with, ever since we were young. I loved you then, and I love you now. And I’ll love you until the end of our days. This past year, you’ve been the only one I could think about—from the moment I wake up to the moment I close my eyes—no, even after I fall asleep, you’re the only person on my mind. Do you know how often I wanted to call you? To ask you how you were? If you were eating well? If maybe you had found someone who was deserving of your love? Do you know how worried I was on the drive over, asking myself if this was the right thing to do?” He took a deep breath before continuing, “But now that you’re here in front of me, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, which is how much I love you, and how I’d regret it every day of my life if I didn’t tell you how I feel.

“I know you’re scared, because honestly, I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if I’m going to find out, I want to do it with you. Together. So, please, don’t be afraid and trust me.”

By now, tears were streaming down your cheeks at full force, the words you wanted to stay lodged in your throat. Your eyes fell to the ground.

“The only thing that will get me to leave,” Seungcheol said, his voice the quietest it had been all day, “is if you tell me you don’t love me.”

You bit your lip which only made the dread in his heart worse. Perhaps he really had made a mistake.

“Seungcheol, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just tell me. I can handle it.” He was lying, though, of course. Because if you really told him that you didn’t love him, he felt as if his whole world might crumble.

Your brain went into overdrive trying to process his confession, let alone find the right words to formulate a response. Seungcheol could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

“You’re right,” you whisper. “I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t want to get hurt. Again. Or worse, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,” he assured you.

“You know that’s not true.” Your eyes shot up from the ground and you were met with his own, tears pooling in the corners. “I’ve hurt you, Cheol. You have every reason to hate me. I ended your marriage—”

“What happened to Sookyung and I was entirely our own fault, and no one else’s. I don’t want you to ever blame yourself for that, okay?”

You shook your head. “What if I hurt you again?”

“Would you? Intentionally?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. We’ve come way too far now to go back, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start over. Fresh. Clean page. Just you and me, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Cheol—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Seungcheol, I—”

“Do you trust me?” His hands wrapped around your cheeks as he stared into your eyes with a longing look.

“I love you.” The words fall from your mouth with much more ease than anticipated, and it’s not long before your foreheads are pressed together.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathed out the words again and looked him straight in the eyes before continuing, “Cheol.”

Without another second to wait, he lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours, so soft and gentle as to not break you any further than he already had. He could feel your tears on his cheeks, but when he pulled away to check on you, you only grasped onto his face and pulled him back.

Every worry, every fear that used to plague your thoughts melted away with his touch. For the first time in a really long time, everything felt right, clicking into place as simple as that.

If you could kiss him for the rest of your life, you absolutely would have, but the whole day had taken its toll on you and the crying didn’t seem to help either. Instead, Seungcheol simply wiped your tears and the two of you fell asleep on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if to say, I will never let you go. Not again. Not this time. Never.

When you woke up, your body was sore from having been in that position for a few hours. You adjusted your head to take a good look at your best friend who was still asleep, breathing softly as the golden glow of the setting sun seeped through your windows, illuminating the edges of his face.

Finally, he could sleep. But he was awoken by the faint grumbling of your stomach. He opened one eye and looked curiously at you, causing you to shove your face into his chest from embarrassment. There was a resounding vibration when he laughed. “Someone’s hungry,” he chuckled, his voice deep and raspy but sounding like music to your ears.

“Stop,” you whined. There was something strange about being so close, so intimate, with him. It brought you back to your high school days, that feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you’d see him walk the halls. If only you had known your true feelings then…

But what mattered was the fact that you were here, with him, right now. What mattered was that now you had been able to be honest with him, with yourself, and when you were in his arms like this, everything finally felt right in the world.

Sure, it would be strange getting used to calling him not only your best friend, but your boyfriend—yet, it was a welcome change, one you knew you would adjust to in no time.

“Should we eat?” Seungcheol asked.

“Mm, I’m not that hungry,” you lied, but your stomach betrayed you, grumbling again.

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other anymore,” he teased.

“Fine, we should eat. But I just want ten more minutes.”

“To do what?”

“To stay like this,” you told him, tightening your grip around his waist as you close your eyes and bury your face in his body. With a gentle kiss on the top of your head, Seungcheol happily obliged and the two of you remained on that couch for longer than ten minutes.

You were finally his tonight. And you would be tomorrow. And the day after.

Forever and always.

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