My heart was irrevocably caught

Your parents had told you that they’d gone all out for your birthday feast and there’d be hundreds of people descending upon the palace to celebrate this momentous occasion with you and your family. This, you thought, was both a blessing and a curse. The amount of guests would mean that you’d get to hear stories of far off lands, the battles people had fought and won, the wonders they had seen and you’d be in awe of them. They’d brighten up the normal dull conversations that you’d had a million times with the same handful of people in this castle. But at the same time hearing those stories made you feel even worse about your dreary little life. No, you don’t want to fight a dragon like the prince from the kingdom across the sea did, but you would like the option. 

Sadly for you though, every guest at that party had an average age of about 91 years of age  and their stories were as boring as your life. That is until you spotted someone frantically trying to explain that he’d brought marzipan from his parents as a gift for the princess and it wasn’t his fault that the baker didn’t like him, and that the marzipan was absolutely not meant to be shaped like a large pair of breasts. He was trying to explain that it’s the baker who should be put in the stocks and not him, he was just an unfortunate bystander in this whole debacle. 

It was only when you got closer to the chaos that this man was creating, that you realised he was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in this kingdom and the next. His hair was longer than you were used to seeing and his clothes, although simple, were perfectly designed and fitted to suit him. He introduced himself in a half assed manner and then panicked when he realised he’d done so to the princess, the very princess whose birthday party he was causing a scene at with his offensive baked goods. You’d laughed and argued that they were probably the finest marzipans you’d ever seen, adding that the cherries in the centre of each of them was a masterstroke of genius and therefore he’d been let off the hook and escaped the stocks. 

But from that moment on, your life changed forever and you haven’t had a moment's peace since. Because marrying Prince Jeonghan was the greatest adventure you’d ever been on. 

“I do not understand why you do these things Jeonghan!” The king exclaims as he takes a bite of his lamb, “That child has not stopped crying for a full two days! The Queen has had to have chamomile and wormwood on a rag on her forehead to soothe the constant headache! Why did you have it attached to the ground so it couldn’t be moved?!” 

“I was thinking of the children’s safety! I didn’t want them to wobble off!” 

You desperately try not to laugh at your father. Because he may be your loving father but he is also the king trying to get to the bottom of another of your husband’s escapades. 

“Jeonghan!” Your mother grasps her cloth covered forehead dramatically, “sorry my love,” your father soothes her, “you see you imbecile, now you have made me upset my wife. I just need to know why you thought it was a good idea to make a rocking horse shaped like such a grotesque monster.” 

“I didn’t.” Jeonghan looks confused, your father looking like he’s about three seconds away from banishing him from the kingdom. 

“Now don’t get smart me with you strange lunatic,” you and your brother desperately hold back your fit of laughter whilst his wife is actively looking in the other direction, out of the window, so your parents won’t see her giggles, “that creature is like something from the depths of hell and you’ve carved it for the children’s playing quarters?!” 

“It’s a shire horse.” Jeonghan frowns, producing a mangled piece of paper from his pocket, “see, a shire horse.” He points to the simple drawing and hands it to your father. 

Your father stares at the rather good drawing of a shire horse, you know it’s good, you drew it, and then slowly raises his eyes to look at your husband. 

“You think this,” he straightens the paper aggressively, making Jeonghan jump, “is in any way similar to the monstrosity that is currently causing my grandchildren nightmares. Tell me Jeonghan, what are you going to do when Seokmin’s son takes the throne and he’s still having nightmares about that rocking horse? Do you simply relish the constant threat of having rotten vegetables thrown at you?”

“N-no,” he desperately looks at you for help but you fear if you open your mouth, you’re going to finally fall on the floor laughing, “I’ll have a servant try to dislodge it from the floor.” 

“How? You’ve had it bolted down Jeonghan! You are a complete and utter fool!” 

“You said they needed a new rocking horse!” He tries to reason and at this point even the servants are fighting for their lives to not crack. 

“YES BECAUSE YOU SAT ON THE LAST ONE AND BROKE IT JEONGHAN!” Your mother dramatically winces once again, “I am sorry my love.” He soothes again, “I’m tired of this, I’m having you put in the dungeons.” 

“WHAT?!” He desperately turns to you, “tell him ______. You drew the shire horse, tell……”

“Do not bring my daughter into this you scoundrel! Her drawing is exemplary,” he smiles softly at you, looking fondly at your drawing, “In fact. Not only have you mentally scared my grandchildren and upset my wife, you’ve also disrespected my daughter in bastardising her dear little drawing. Two nights. In the dungeons. Off you go!” 

Jeonghan looks at you all, hoping someone is going to stop this. It’s only been two weeks since he was last sent to the dungeon for the night, he can’t face it again, not this soon. But all he sees is betrayal before him. How could you all be so cruel when all he was trying to do was something nice for his daughters and nephew. 

“If you don’t go willingly, I will get the guards to take you.” Your father says sternly. 

“Fine.” He sighs sadly, trudging out of the dining hall, not sparing any of his supposed family a second glance. 

“Hello dearest.” You grin through the bars of the dungeon door. 

“You’ve purposefully taken an age to get down here.” He pouts from the little wooden stool in the corner of the stone dungeon. 

“I had to help my mother to bed,” you shrug innocently. 

You both know you’re lying. You had purposefully taken a long while to wander down to the dungeons to release your husband. Mainly because, like your mother, the children’s constant crying had also given you a slight headache earlier. But also, to put it bluntly, you’re horny. 

Your husband may be a bumbling idiot who tries desperately to help or entertain and yet always falls spectacularly short, but the second you make it to your bed chambers? Well, he’s a totally different kettle of fish. It took a month or so after your wedding to truly find your groove, both of you having never laid with anyone before, but when he noticed just how much you enjoyed him taking charge and putting you in your place, it was clear you were made for each other. 

If you were to talk to a physician about it, they’d probably say you like being treated the way your husband treats you in the bedroom because you want to leave your perfect little life every now and again. Where people simply agree with you and treat you like you’re this precious little jewel not to be broken. If you’re honest with yourself, you just like the way it feels when his hand connects with your ass and he uses you however he pleases. 

“Let me out.” He walks over to the bars. 

“Is that anyway to talk to a princess!” You frown, your stomach doing flips when you see him clench his jaw, annoyance now overtaking the poutiness. 

“You’re not funny. Unlock this and let me out. Now.” 

“You did cause quite a lot of trouble,” you ponder, noting how his hands are now gripping the bars so hard that his knuckles are turning white, “and I do risk my father finding out every time I break you out of this dungeon. I wouldn’t like him to find out I’ve been going behind his back.” 

“This little game you’re playing, it won’t work. You push too far and you’ll get nothing you want.” He hisses through the bars. 

“I’m the princess, I always get what I want.” 

“Well.” He holds the bars that bit tighter, “see here’s your problem. We both know you’re already dripping because,” he smirks, “we both know you're desperate. And this is where I wonder if you can get your little head around what I’m going to say. You take much longer to unlock this fucking door and I won’t touch you. And if you don’t let me out, then I still don’t touch you and you have to go through the embarrassment of trying to touch yourself,” he sighs in fake sadness, “which we both know you’re fucking terrible at.” 

Curse him. 

“Maybe I just agree with my father that you’ve gone too far.” You shrug.

“Do you know what’s going too far? Changing into that nightgown and parading yourself around the castle knowing full well that it’s more or less see through. You relish other men looking at what’s mine? You think any of them would touch you the way I do? If you want other men, go and have them princess.” 

“I don’t want other men,” you mumble, eyes fixed on his lips, “I want you.” 

“Then open the fucking door _____!” He says through gritted teeth. 

“O-okay,” you whisper quickly, your mind already heading to that warm soft subby space you love so much. 

“Clever girl.” He smiles when you unlock the door after fumbling in your eagerness to see what he’s going to do. 

He places a gentle kiss on your lips, ending it far too quickly in your opinion, and spins you round to land a harsh slap on your ass. 

“Come on,” he has his hands on your shoulders as he guides you out of the dungeons and up the stone stairs to the back of the castle. “You’re so fucking annoying,” he mumbles into your neck as you both try to walk through the castle with his arms now wrapped round your waist. 

It’s lucky everyone has gone to bed, even the kitchen maids have finished for the day, something you may have done on purpose when deciding just how long to make him suffer in the dungeons. 

“It is quite grotesque,” you giggle at the memory of the rocking horse, though arch slightly when he pinches your nipple through the flimsy nightgown. 

“I tried my best,” he grumbles, soft lips pecking your neck and causing you to stop in your tracks. 

“Hey,” you turn around in his arms, “my love, I know you always try your best and I love you for that.”

“Even if I make a fool of myself? Even if your dad thinks I’m an idiot?” 

“My dad does think you’re an idiot,” you grin at him, “but you’re his idiot. He’d fight a war if someone hurt you, you know?”

“You think?” He pouts, hands kneading your ass though you’re not sure he even realises he’s doing it. 

“I know he would. When you went to visit your parents, he was quite bereft without you here to keep us all entertained.” 

“Oh, so I’m nothing more than the court jester?” 

“You know that’s not true,” you frown, “you infuriate him but you’re like a son to him. And I’m certain he knows you don’t actually stay in the dungeons, if he does then those guards are being very lax. They leave the keys hanging by the door every single time.” 

“And yet you still took your fucking time to come and get me,” his eyes turn dark again now he’s got his worries out of the way, “it was all so you could show yourself off to anyone who may still be awake then?”

“It’s your favourite.” You look at Jeonghan in wonder, your pussy already dripping. You were dripping before you left your bed chamber if you’re honest with yourself. 

“It doesn’t,” he spins you back around and attaches himself to your back again, his semi hard dick pressing into your ass, “mean that every servant and nobleperson alike gets to see you in it. Unless,” he plays with the lining off your sheer linen nightgown, “that’s what you wanted?”

He pulls your nightgown down as you walk together along the long stone corridor, lined with paintings of your ancestors, and exposes your naked breasts, making you gasp and yet clench around nothing. The cool air and sheer fabric had already hardened your nipples but now they were almost painful as the idea of someone spotting the king’s daughter being treated in such a way took hold. Jeonghan’s hands grope and grab at them as you finally near your living quarters, but he stops you before you reach the door, his lips sucking a harsh mark onto your neck and hands never leaving you, right in the large corridor where anyone could see you. 

“This is what you wanted, you wanted anyone and everyone to see just how fucking pathetic my wife is? I bet if I lift this nightgown, there’ll already be a mess between your thighs.”

He chuckles evilly into your ear when you spread your legs a little, hoping his fingers would soon find their way to where you need them most. 

“You’re so easy,” he smirks against your skin before he sucks another harsh mark onto your skin, “you want that? You want everyone to see me finger your desperate little cunt? Why don't we just invite everyone to watch how well I fuck you?”

You don’t answer him, just lean onto his chest when he tugs on your nipple particularly hard, just how he knows you like it. 

“Answer me princess, do you want me to finger you here? Maybe if I treat you really well you’ll squirt all over the floor, how will we explain that to the servants?” 

“Want,” you swallow, trying to collect yourself though you’re already breathless, “your dick. Bed.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, slapping your left tit lightly and covering your mouth when you let out an airy moan, “use full sentences. Surely you can manage that? Princess?” 

You loathe when he tries to get you to speak, he’s well aware your brain is currently caught between desperation and horny dumbness, the fact he’s still insisting on you speaking is just another way for him to show you who has the power here. 

“I want,” 

“Well done,” he coos. 

“I want you to fuck me, i-in,” you moan when he purposely pinches your nipple to break up your sentence, “the bedchamber.” 

“That’s nice dearest,” he moves away from you making you sway, and moves in front of you, eyes hungrily eating up your exposed breasts and blown out pupils, “but maybe I should make you wait,” he leans his shoulder against the door, arms folded and a smirk toying on his lips, “you know, how you made me wait?” 

“No,” you whisper, not even pulling your nightgown up even though anyone could come wandering, “I’ll be so good for you. I promise.” 

“Hmm,” he appraises you. “I don’t know.”

“Please, please Jeonghan,” 

You’ve no idea who he’s trying to kid, you’re surprised his dick hasn’t broken out of his pants, it's that hard. 

“Well I suppose so,” he rolls his eyes, like fucking you would be more of a hindrance than a pleasure. Something you know it’s not but fuck does him being like this make you even more desperate to please him. 

“Thank you,” you move to sort out your night dress. 

“Er, what are you doing? Leave that how it is, I didn’t say you could move it.” 

Your arms drop to your side straight away, leaving your breasts exposed to him and awaiting what he wants you to do next. 

What you don’t expect is for him to lunge forward, grab your neck and pull you the short distance towards him. His lips crash into yours in a fierce kiss that makes your knees almost give in. You got married six months after you first met him at your 21st birthday and, even after two children, you still get all giddy and tingly when you kiss him.

You shared your first kiss on the night of your birthday, much quicker than appropriate for a princess, but you knew he was the one for you. You were his the second you saw him almost crying over the lude marzipan and now his hand wrapped around your throat as his tongue dances with yours, just cements the fact that you will always be his. 

“I love you,” he says against your lips, his thumb pressing just a little harder on your throat to just hammer it home. 

“I love you too,” you rasp, your hand moving to rub his throbbing length through his pants. 

“You’re always so badly behaved,” he taps your hand away from him, “get in there!” He points to the door, smirking to himself as you rush off, still exposed and your ass illuminated through your dress by the moonlight shimmering through the window. 

There’s only one thing that could make this scene prettier Jeonghan thinks to himself. So before you pass the threshold he lands a hard slap on your ass, your moan bouncing off the stone walls and Jeonghan’s dick twitching in his pants when he sees the red mark it left behind.

“Shut the fuck up princess,” he says jokingly, his domiance breaking a little when he hears you giggling at his antics. 

That break is gone as quick as it came though when you turn around and see him tearing his clothes off before the door has even slammed shut behind him. 

Your eyes eat him up. To look at him you see a tall slender man but underneath the layers of undershirts, leather pants and long boots, is the body of an adonis. He's broad, broader than you think, and with a body that you know takes hours of training with your brother. 

“Are you going to keep oggling me like I'm nothing but a piece of meat to you? Or are you going to take that fucking useless nightgown off?" 

You don't need telling twice, your nightgown is off within a blink of an eye and your body exposed to the only man that's ever seen it. Thank god your parents threw that ridiculous party for you, if they hadn't you'd never be able to have this, to trust someone so much with your body, and your heart, like you do with Jeonghan. 

He moves over to bed at his usual leisurely pace, not a care in the world that your thighs currently resemble a small waterfall, and lies down on the bed like he's about to have a nap. 

All you can do is stand there awkwardly, your body covered in goosebumps from the breeze coming through the wooden shutters of the window, just waiting for what he wants you to do. 

“Well come here then!" He says, like you should’ve known what he wanted you to do. 

And you do. You rush over to him like he's bestowed the greatest honour upon you and throw your leg over him, taking his rock hard length into your hand and lining him up with your overly needy hole. 

"Errrrr, what are you doing?” 

"What?” You glance up at him wide eyed, his tip painfully close to where you need him. 

"Did I say you could do that? You've hurt me _____, I don't think I'm ready to let you have your own way yet.” 

How does he still remain so stoic when you can see he's already leaking? Your brain is panicking at the very thought of not having him inside you and yet he’s behaving like you're talking about which meat will be roasted for the next feast. 

"N-no? But I thought…..” 

"That's the problem isn't it. You need to stop doing that for now and just do what I want you to.” 

“Ok," you whisper and place his length down on his stomach carefully, “can I sit down?" 

“You may." He gestures to his thighs like he's offering you a throne. 

"Thank you.” You sit down on his thighs, your head spinning from how close his dick is and how much you need it. 

"Now. Take what you need.” 

What?!

"What?” 

"Don't say what, say pardon.” 

"You're not my mother.” 

You only realise you've answered him back when you utter the last word, your cheeks heat and tears well because you know nothing good will come from your smart ass remark. 

"Oh princess,” he says in mock sadness, "there goes that brain again.” He pinches your nipples, making you whine, twisting them angrily before he releases them.

"I'll let that go. Isn't it lucky you married such a kind husband?” 

You nod quickly, your fingers itching to touch him. 

"Now. Take what you need.” 

He says it again but you're still none the wiser as to what the fuck he needs. He knows what you need, you told him. But he's also just told you that you're not allowed to finally put his dick inside you. So what fuck does he want from you? And why is he making it like a test? If he doesn't explain himself soon you'll burst into tears, you're not ashamed of how much you need him. 

“I don't know what you mean." 

“Make yourself cum." 

You frown at him. 

“But you just said I couldn't put it in." 

“You can't. I'll allow you to use me but you don't get the privilege of me being inside you yet." 

“So……what do you mean?”

"I mean,” he grabs your hips harshly and drags you forward, "you can't put it in, but use it.” 

Ah. Now you get what he means, why couldn't he just say that?! 

“Good girl princess," he sighs, his dominance wavering when your folds nestle his length between them, his dick still flush against his stomach and his tip so close to your clit that it makes your knees go weak. 

You don't move for a second, you can't, finally having something takes your breath away but there's a cruelty to this all none the less. He knows you’re desperate to feel him inside you, the fact it would only take a second to have him exactly where you need him and he's so fucking close to there too, is just unbelievably unfair of him. But god does it make you leak around his length. 

“Move then!" he slaps your thigh.

You hum and nod, your lip caught between your teeth as you begin to drag your sopping pussy along your husband's dick. 

"Fuck that's embarrassing isn't it?” His voice is strained and if you had any ability to comprehend what he was saying you'd be quite pleased he's finding it difficult to remain completely cold, "Just grinding yourself along my dick has you leaking this much? Look at it _____, my stomach is glistening in you and you've only been doing it for thirty seconds.” 

You glance down, your hole clenching around nothing when you see that he's right, the moonlight illuminates your bodies and a sheen that's almost iridescent gleams up at you. 

But you don't reply, you're too busy grinding hurriedly on his length, his leaking tip nudging your clit every time you move and making you quiver. 

“Are you already close?" He chuckles condescendingly. 

You are and you're not ashamed of it, you’re moving at a hell of pace thanks to how wet you've made his dick, if anything it feels a bit too slippy. And the way his fat tip feels on your clit is fucking incredible. And yet, even though you're close, you still can't help but feel empty as you feel his length under you. You get the sudden urge to scream at him and ignore his cruel plan. It would take a second, just one nimble manoeuvre and you'd be full of him. 

"Don't,” he slaps your tits both at the same time making your movements get impossibly quicker, "you even think about it princess.” 

Damn him for knowing you so well! 

“Thank you," you don't even know what you're thanking him for, you suppose if you're nice to him, he'll give you what you want. 

He just hums and watches you intently, his eyes shining and yet still holding that darkness in them as his finger tips glide up your stomach. Your body twitches at the simple touch making him smirk as his finger tips glide around your nipples and swirl up to your neck, your pussy leaking even more at what he's about to do.

"Please Jeonghan.” 

You both know what you want. And he isn't going to refuse having that power over you. 

"Filthy,” his hand wraps around your throat, "fucking woman.” 

He applies just enough pressure to make it feel like your airway is being restricted but not entirely cut off. The lack of oxygen only makes you more desperate and impossibly more wet. 

Jeonghan holds your throat in his grasp, basically holding your body up from his spot lying on the bed, as he watches your eyes glaze over in pleasure and your pussy leak all over him. 

"Hurry. Up.” He says through gritted teeth, his hand tightening just a little bit on your throat.

Your hips stutter, just one two more nudges on your clit and you'll be there. Jeonghan knows your body, he knows your little tells and the second he sees your hips falter he lets go of your neck and grabs your hips. 

He keeps your hips moving as your orgasm washes over you, the rush of air in your lungs after having been deprived of it makes your head all dizzy. That feeling is what you love, your body in the ultimate pleasure it can be and so relieved at having oxygen back in your lungs mixes together to create one of the greatest feelings in the world. And thanks to your husband and his need to make you happy, even when he's being cruel in the bedroom, he rides you through your euphoria until it all gets too much. 

You fall onto him, his arms welcoming you but only for long enough to place a gentle kiss on your temple and roll you off him. You don’t stop him, you don’t want to, he knows your body is his and you know he’d never do anything to hurt you, not that you didn’t enjoy anyway. 

Jeonghan makes sure you’re ok, you lying on your stomach on the bed and him leaning over you just to double check, before he spreads your legs. He smirks to himself as he sees you clench, very pleased that even after a mind altering orgasm, his perfect wife is still eager for me. 

He doesn’t say anything and gives you no indication of what he’s doing but two hands land either side of your head and you feel his dick near your pussy and his toned chest against your sweaty back. One of his hands moves for just a second, you feel his tip against your leaking hole and within seconds he slams himself into you, bottoming out straight away and taking with it your breath and the last of your sanity. 

“FUCK!” You scream, trying to throw your head back but just meeting his chest as his hands cage you in either side of your head. 

“Shut up,” he groans, moving onto on his elbows so he’s fully on top of you and his free hand coming to cover your mouth, “you want everyone to hear how well I’m fucking you?” 

“Mmph,” you try to say no but you don’t get a chance, one because of his hand covering your mouth and secondly because before you can try to say anything, he starts pistoling you at a brutal pace. 

His hips move at the speed of light as he hammers his throbbing length in and out of you. The weight of him on top of you, reminding you that you can’t escape him or the way his big dick is bullying its way into your abused hole again and again, is your only purpose in life right now.

“Maybe next time,” he mumbles darkly into your ear, “you’ll fucking do something,” he bites your ear lobe when you squeeze his dick a bit too good, “when your husband is threatened with the dungeons.” 

His dick keeps hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, your sweaty skin clinging to each other as he rams himself in and out of you. 

“But then again,” he turns your head a little as best he can, “this is what you wanted. You wanted punishing for being a bad fucking wife.”

Tears are falling down your cheeks at this point and you’re so fucking close, not that you can tell him, he’s still muffling your noises with his hand and the only sounds filling your ears are Jeonghan’s grunts and the sound of your sopping pussy as he hammers into you. 

“You’re lucky,” he swallows his hips getting unsteady, letting you both know he’s close, “I’m so good to you. Aren’t I my love? I’m always ready to help you see the error of your ways.” 

He smacks down into you again and again, your ass jiggling as he does from the force of it and all it takes is one particularly hard thrust and you clench down so hard on him that you both cum at the same time. You feel him empty his balls deep inside you as warmth takes over your body once again. His hips are sloppy as he rides you both through it, his hand still over your mouth to muffle your moans but his other hand holds yours tight in his, letting you know already that he’s there even before your high has fully subsided. 

“Good girl,” he groans as his hips slow and you start to twitch a little in over stimulation. “Did so well for me, my love.” 

He presses little featherlight kisses up and down your neck as he finally comes to a stop and slowly pulls out of you and rolls over onto his back. 

“Come on,” he says softly, as he moves as close to you as possible, lifting your arm over his stomach then he can hold you. “There you go, you did so good for me princess,” his fingers soothe your hair as you try to regulate your breathing and snuggle closer to him. 

“That was,” you say, voice a little gravelly from the grip he had on your throat, “so amazing.” 

He can feel your smile against his skin and you know damn well he’s beaming up at the ceiling looking pretty pleased with himself. 

“Well it was when you finally did as you were told.” 

You sit up to give him your best stern look, him faltering slightly and showing you that your gormless, loveable husband is fully back with you. 

“And if you weren’t so ridiculous, you wouldn’t be in the dungeon in the first place!”

“I did genuinely think I’d done a good job with the carving.” He mumbles. 

“Hey,” you sit up and smush his cheeks together, “you did better than any of us could do and I love that you even tried. I love how much you always try.” 

You giggle when he tries to smile even though you’re smushing his cheeks together. 

“But we do need to change the rocking horse.” You kiss him and settle back into your rightful spot on his chest. 

“I think perhaps we ask the carpenter to come in and fix it,” 

“Maybe you could start some lessons with him, you could try and make another one when you’ve learnt the craft.” You say as you draw patterns on his stomach. 

“I won’t have time. I’m planning on starting tapestry making with the girls tomorrow, and our nephew if he’d like to.” 

You bite your tongue, knowing full well last time he tried any sort of sewing, his hands were bandaged for a week. But he wants to do it and you know that your daughters are lucky to have a father who tries so hard for them and so you keep your reservations to yourself. 

“They’d like that dearest,” you snuggle in closer to him, “we’re all very lucky to have you.”

It’s a little embarrassing and ‘pathetic’ to admit, so you don’t. You just keep talking big like you wouldn’t melt the second someone treats you like a princess. And you used to think about it a lot more than you’d like to admit. You can’t wait for the day when somebody tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them, and they mean it entirely and not just saying it because it sounds nice and maybe earn a second date with you. 

You used to treat that thought like a far off possibility that might happen one day, if you’re lucky. Because it was never about looks and just standards for you.

You don’t fall in love with looks; you fall for personality (at least that’s what you say for now but your actions might suggest both). If someone makes you smile and willingly joins you in doing dumb things, you’re basically already done. You don’t fall in love— you slip, fall, roll downhill, and accept your fate. That’s just how you are.

And soft spoken men… oh God, That’s been your number one pick in the great catalogue of men since the beginning of time.

Sweetheart, look how pretty that is! The voice comes from your side. 

You look beside you and realize you can’t really relate to your past self and her so-called ‘standards’ anymore. You have your boyfriend, Seokmin, who not only has the personality you always wanted, but is also disgustingly good looking; cute and hot at the same time for absolutely no good reason.

You’re walking under rows of cherry blossom trees, petals falling down around you like something out of a kdrama scene. Your hands are intertwined with his warm hands, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles as he talks.

He’s saying something more about the cherry blossom that you’re not even fully listening to except that he’s so happy talking about it and that’s all that matters to you to be honest, but his voice is so soft and exactly the kind you always said you liked • ᴖ •

You huff to yourself as you shake your head a little with a smitten smile as you look at him, stopping him from whatever he was saying, “stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband, bruh,” you tell him. You don’t even think he hears you, but then he stops walking. You take another step before realizing he’s no longer beside you, your hand slipping from his. You turn back confused, “why did you stop?”

Seokmin is just standing there looking at you in a way that makes you feel… nervous/stomach coiling all of a sudden? “What did you just say?” he looks at you caught off guard, probably can’t believe he’s hearing you right about being smitten over him for the nth time today, again.

“Nothing. I was just talking to myself,” you giggle.

He doesn’t walk when you turn forward to walk again, tugging your hand back to stop you from walking, “say it again.”

You squint your eyes a little with a smirk-smile, “why?”

“Just… please?” 

You hesitate to think if you should tease him or just say it again, then sigh because reality hit you and now you feeling a little embarrassed but it’s too late to backpedal, “I said, stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband. It’s not that serious,” you hide your face with your hands and sprint away from him a little.

He just chuckles hearing you repeat it and being so shy again instead of your usual smug/forward self. “Well,” he goes after you, “I think that’s something I can fix.”

You frown, “huh?—” he reaches into his pocket and your words die in your throat when he goes down on one knee. Now, your brain is refusing to process what’s happening, like it’s literally lagging behind reality… but then he pulls out a small beige leather box, and suddenly everything feels very dreamlike, “Seokmin…”

“I know,” he’s nervous but trying not to show it too much, “I know I joke a lot, and I know you might’ve been joking about it too, but—”  he continues, looking at you like nothing else exists, “you said you have high standards when we started dating… And I don’t even know if I will ever meet them, but I’ve been trying to.”

Your chest tightens so tight, it practically hurts. You want to tell him he exceeded everything you ever wanted from the bare minimum to the S-tier delusions you never thought you’d actually get. Stupid rich, offensively handsome, shining brighter than the sun for no reason, and with a personality so good it makes you consider violence as a form of support, having a personality that would make you kill anyone without hesitation if they made him even a little sad. 

“I don’t always know what I’m doing, but I know I want to be good to you… I really do. I want to be someone who takes care of you, who you can rely on, someone who makes things easier for you and not harder… I’m still figuring things out, but I know I don’t want to do that without you,” he’s still on his knees. “And… I don’t know if I say it enough but… you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he looks at you with googly eyes. This is exactly how you imagined it, except it doesn’t feel a far off possibility anymore, “and I mean it,” he adds.

You think you might as well start crying at this point, shit. “Baby…”

As he clicks the leather box open, the sunlight shines on the ring that seems less like jewelry and more like something plucked from a fairytale garden. Literally what you showed him one night, months ago about the styles you love and the styles you don’t. So, resting against the plush lining was a marquise cut diamond. Why you love this is because, the most beautiful part wasn't just the diamond, but how it was held; the rose gold band didn't follow a straight line, but instead twisted into vines that curled around the finger. Nestled along those shimmering gold branches were tiny, leaf shaped diamond clusters.

“So… will you let me be your husband?”

For a second, you just stare at the bright, bubbly, soft spoken man who became your reality. So basically the person who fits every single thing you used to think about like it was impossible.

You manage to breathe again and breathlessly laugh a bit as you shake your head as tears blur your vision. “Yes,” you say immediately after. “Yes, of course.”

His face lights up brighter than the sun or the diamond in the box, relief and happiness crashing into each other as he lets out a laugh of his own. “Really?”

“Obviously,” you mumble even as your voice wavers. “You’re already so husbandable. That’s literally the problem.”

He grins, eyes crinkling as he slips your dream ring onto your finger. “Heh,” he says with a big pretty smile that you absolutely adore. “Then I guess I’m right on track,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of your hand after sliding the ring on. If anything, his grip tightens; he needs to make sure this is actually happening.

He immediately cups your cheek so gently with one hand as his thumb brushes beneath your cheekbone, and the other at your waist.

Leaning in, his touch tightens just a bit as his breath brushes your upper lip first before his mouth connects with yours. His hand at your waist grips tighter and draws you closer without force while his fingers at your cheek angle your face just enough so he can deepen it. 

Slowly, the kiss breaks in a reluctant pulling away that leaves the air between you buzzing. He doesn't pull back far but a little to rest his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours in a gentle friction. For a long moment, the only sound is the ragged synchronization of your breathing and the rustle of the cherry blossoms around you. Slowly, his hands move; the one at your cheek slides down to find your hand, his fingers lacing through yours as he leads you back toward the path. This is when you realise that the world hasn’t changed, but the two of you have.

Under the shadows of the trees, his thumb keeps brushing over the ring over and over again. You’re now staring at your hand.

It feels… strange, but not in a bad way. “Hey,” he says with that pretty smile on his lips. You look up to find him not beaming anymore; instead, his expression has softened into a look so soft and anxious it feels like he’s laid his entire heart bare right there under the trees. But pretty all the same. “You’re really okay with this?” he asks.

You look at him, a little dumbfounded, but there’s no hiding the adoration in your voice or your heart. “You literally just proposed.”

“I know, but—” he takes out a breathless laugh, a sign that he’s a little nervous again, “you joke a lot. I just want to make sure you didn’t say yes because of the moment or something.”

The weight of his gaze is heavy, but it’s a weight you realise you’re more than happy to carry for the rest of your life… but you stare at him for a second, dumbfounded all over again. You didn’t think your love for him could grow any more, but now you know it can. “Lee Seokmin.”

He straightens at your tone. “Yes, love?”

“If I didn’t want to marry you, I would’ve run.”

“…that’s fair.”

“And also,” you hold your hand up between you, “you put a ring on me. There’s no take-backs now. This is legally binding.”

He snorts as the tension breaks instantly, “sweetheart, that’s not how it works,” he’s 

 with that smile that you love.

“It is now.”

He chuckles as he comes closer and connects your foreheads. Cherry blossoms keep falling around you as some even sit on his hair, on your shoulders, on your joined hands.

“Wait—,” you say suddenly as you gain some sort of enlightenment. 

He flinches, “what?”

“You said I’m the best thing that ever happened to you,” you raise your eyebrow at him, looking a little skeptical.

“…yeah?”

“But that’s crazy.”

He deflates on the spot like a puppy that just got told off, “why is that crazy?”

“Because,” you shrug, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face, “I was expecting something a little, you know, maybe a longer speech. Maybe, I don’t know, more tears? Actually! Was hoping for a breakdown.”

He stares at you, lower lip pushed out in a defiant swell that makes him look more like a kicked puppy than a newly engaged man. His brows are drawn together in a mock scowl, but the effect is completely ruined by the sheer, plush roundness of his mouth— a pout so dramatic and endearingly childish it feels like a physical provocation, “you’re making fun of me after I proposed?”

You’re internally, physically, going, sjjsjsnsbzkznzb, your heart doing frantic gymnastics against your ribs as a wave of pure cuteness aggression crashes over you. It’s him that’s making you want to either scream into a pillow or bite his cheek. You go on your tippy toes, catching that soft, stubborn protrusion with a kiss, physically pressing the gloom right off his face. “I said yes, didn’t I?” you whisper against his lips as you feel the tension melt out of him as the pout finally dissolves. “Be happy.”

He squints at you, then gives out a disbelieving laugh. “What do I do with you?” he squishes your cheeks.

“Love me,” you wink at him.

“I do,” he doesn’t hesitate before he leans down to give you a fast kiss on your lips.

It kicks the humor right out of your chest for a second, “…yeah,” you mumble as you look away and look at everything but him, “I know.”

He pulls you into him anyway as his arms wrap around you tightly. You huff, but your arms come up around him just as quickly, holding on just as tight. “Fiancée,” he whispers into your shoulder.

You make a face even though he can’t see it, “don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re obsessed with me.”

He leans back a little to look at you, eyebrows raised, “I am obsessed with you.”

“…okay, that’s embarrassing.”

“And you’re still marrying me.”

You sigh as if you’re annoyed by the fact as if you’re not actually completely gone for him, “yeah, unfortunately.”

He grins bright, completely unbothered and pats your head.

You stay like that for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other while petals keep falling around you. And then he laces your fingers together again, lifting your joined hands. “Come on,” he says.

“Where?”

He playfully smiles with a mixed sweet and teasing glint in his crinkling eyes, “we should probably keep walking. I don’t think proposing was the final destination.”

You look down at the ring catching the light, “… bruh you just changed my entire life mid walk,” you mumble.

“And you’re complaining?” he asked amused as a radiant grin breaks across his face that seems to catch the very photon of the road. It was his smile that didn’t sit on his lips; it crinkled the corners of his eyes into warm crescents and bared a perfect, gleaming row of teeth.

There was a genuine, boyish heat to it… you’ll literally go teary eyes to see a flash of his pure, unadulterated joy that makes his whole expression soften, turning his features into a map of sheer contagious light. Your man looks like a man who had never known a dark day in his life, or perhaps, like someone who had decided to be the sun for everyone else. So, you melt into his smile but being your pretense of being sane for him, “sure.”

He chuckles as the sound is a honeyed vibration that seems to absorb right in the marrow of your bones. He squeezes your hand as you both start walking again under the canopy of cherry blossoms. 

You’re walking side by side just like before, but every cell in your body feels electrified by the sudden change within the last ten to fifteen minutes. This isn’t just your best friend or the boy you grew up with; this is the man who just promised his forever to you. You’re trailing beside him as your eyes trace the line of his jaw and his crinkling eyes when he looks at you, feeling absolutely, hopelessly undone.

It’s a terrifying, dizzying kind of love for you. Like, no matter how many times you’ll say you’re down bad for him, you still wanna make sure that everyone knows that you’d follow him into a storm just to stay in his orbit. You watch the dappled light dance across his skin and honestly, you're a goner. You’re down bad, head over heels, and slipping deeper with every step he takes. He’s the only person who could make your heart feel this heavy and this light all at once, and as you tighten your grip on his hand, you realise you never want to surface for air. You swing your joined hands slightly, then look at him again, “by the way,” you add, “why are you so husbandable?”

He smiles without looking at you so it’s a secret thing that he seems to be savoring all to himself. But you saw it anyway. “Because now, I actually get to be your husband,” he looks at you after saying it.

You’re frozen when he looks at you like that, probably expecting you to hit him, flirt with him or say something more cheeky. But you’re still frozen by how he’s looking at you. Internally screaming, your brain is a mess of static because how are you supposed to function when he’s being this fucking perfect? You want to tuck the sound of his voice into your pocket and keep it forever. He’s not just ‘husbandable’ to you at this rate— he is the literal blueprint, the standard, the absolute end of the road for you, and the way he looks right now bathed in the spring light, makes you realise you are irrevocably, helplessly his.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz overhead loud enough to make your headache worse.

Your scrubs are hidden beneath your coat, but the exhaustion still clings to you like a second skin. Twenty-one hours awake. Two trauma surgeries. Your shoulders ache as you stand in front of the drink fridge debating whether caffeine at 1:17 a.m. is self-care or self-destruction.

Probably both.

The cashier is half asleep behind the counter. The entire store smells like instant ramen and rain dragged in from outside.

Then

“Give it back, asshole.”

A younger voice. Nervous. Angry.

You glance toward the back aisle. four teenage boys crowd around another kid near the cup noodles section. School uniforms half worn properly, faces carrying that dangerous mix of boredom and ego.

One of them is holding a backpack above his head while the smaller boy tries to grab it back.

“Hyung, seriously,” the smaller one mutters “Stop.”

The tallest teen laughs “Then say please.”

You sigh quietly. Apparently the universe saw your exhaustion and decided you weren’t suffering enough tonight.

You shut the fridge door. The slam makes them look over.

“Hey,” you call out, voice flat from fatigue more than fear “Give him his bag back.”

The boys blink at you. “Now.”

The tallest one smirks “Yah, noona,” he says lazily “Just go home.”

You should. You absolutely should.

Instead you fold your arms.

“I’m giving you exactly five seconds before I decide to become extremely annoying”

The smallest boy looks like he might cry from relief someone intervened.

The taller teen scoffs “Why do adults always act like—”

“Four seconds.”

“You think we’re scared of—”

“Three.”

Another one snorts  “She’s crazy.”

You’re too tired to even deny it “Two.”

The tallest boy starts walking toward you instead. Your eyes narrow.

“Kid,” you warn “I work in trauma surgery. Do you know how little teenage intimidation affects me after seeing a man arrive with a knife through his thigh?”

That actually makes two of them hesitate but the leader keeps coming.

“Scary,” he mocks “What are you gonna do? Lecture me to death?”

You open your mouth when suddenly someone bumps lightly into your shoulder from behind.

Not hard hust enough presence to announce itself.

Instantly the air changes.

There’s a man standing beside you now. Tall. Broad enough to block half the aisle light. Black jacket. Black cargo pants. Combat boots darkened by rainwater. One gloved hand holding what looks like keys.

And his face—

God.

Sharp eyes. Strong jaw. Cold expression carved perfectly still. Not just handsome.

Dangerous almost.

The kind of man people instinctively move around. One glance from him and the entire mood in the store drops ten degrees.

The tallest teenager straightens immediately. You notice it right away, that shift.

Predators recognizing a bigger predator.

The man doesn’t even look at them fully at first.

He looks at you. His gaze flicks once over your tired face, your hospital ID hanging from your coat pocket, then toward the boys.

Calmly, he asks, “Problem?” His voice is low. Controlled.

Military. Or something authoritative because that much aura can’t be tied to a desk all day.

One of the boys immediately shakes his head “No, hyung.”

The man finally turns toward them completely. It’s subtle, but you catch it.

The posture. The alertness. The kind of stillness that screams trained.

“Are you bothering her?” he asks

“No.”

“Bothering him?” He nods toward the smaller teenager, they all stay silent which was answer enough.

The captain—because there is absolutely no way this man isn’t somebody’s terrifying superior officer somewhere—takes one slow step forward.

That’s it. One step and the boys immediately crack.

“Sorry!”

“We were leaving anyway—”

“Let’s go, let’s go.”

The backpack gets shoved back into the younger boy’s chest before the group practically trips over themselves escaping the store.

The bell above the door jingles violently as they disappear into the rain.

Silence settles. The younger teen bows rapidly at you both.

“Thank you,” he blurts before hurrying out too.

And just like that, it’s over.

You exhale slowly. Your adrenaline crashes almost immediately after. The man beside you finally looks down at you properly.

Up close, he’s even worse.

Broad shoulders stretching beneath dark fabric. Wet black hair pushed back carelessly. A faint scar near his jaw.

While his eyes linger on the dark circles beneath yours.

“You shouldn’t confront groups alone,” he says

You stare at him then laugh once in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

His eyebrow lifts slightly “I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious when I say I’m too tired to tolerate being scolded by Batman”

For the first time, his expression shifts. Barely.

“You do this often?” he asks

“What? Interfere when kids are acting stupid?”

“Yes” You shrug tiredly and walk toward the fridge again.

“I’m an ER doctor. My entire career is built around interfering when people are acting stupid.” you continue.

You grab two canned coffees without thinking. When you turn around, he’s still watching you like he’s assessing every movement automatically.

Definitely military.

You hold one coffee out toward him.

“A peace offering since you apparently saved me.”

“I didn’t save you.”

“No?” You tilt your head “Those boys looked one second away from peeing themselves.”

“They were kids.”

“Mm. Terrified kids.”

He takes the can from your hand finally. His fingers brush yours briefly. Warm despite the cold rain outside.

“Choi Seungcheol,” he says after a moment.

“Military?” you ask. He raises a brow at your question so you continue,

“You’re too scary to be an office worker, you’re dressed in all black and let’s not get started on your combat boots”

That earns a chuckle from him.

“Military, Captain. And you? Doctor?” he points at your ID and scrubs under your coat

You nod once  “Y/N.”

“You’re just Y/N?”

“You’re just Captain?” Another almost-smile. Dangerous how attractive that becomes on his face.

The cashier awkwardly clears his throat from the counter like he’s been witnessing a drama unfold in real time.

You both walk up to pay.

“You’re getting off work now?” Seungcheol asks

“At this point I basically live at the hospital.”

“What kind of doctor?”

“Traum, ER, general surgery.”

That finally gets a real reaction from him. A slight widening of the eyes. “You do emergency surgery?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s rough.”

You snort softly “You say that dressed like you came straight out of a classified mission.”

His gaze flickers toward you “Something like that.”

You pay for the coffees When you step outside, the rain has softened into a drizzle. Streetlights reflect gold against wet pavement.

You pull your coat tighter around yourself.

Then notice the black motorcycle parked near the curb. Of course he rides that.

Seungcheol catches you looking “You disapprove?”

“I know the statistics of how many injuries per month are caused by that very vehicle” you say honestly then look at him, head to toe” It’s annoyingly fitting.”

He actually laughs this time, low. Brief. It changes his whole face. You hate how handsome it is.

“You parked far?” he asks

“A block away”

“I’ll walk you.”

You immediately shake your head “That’s unnecessary.”

“At 1:30 in the morning?”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know ” The answer comes instantly. Certain and somehow that makes you pause because he really means it.

Then he gestures down the sidewalk “Come on, doctor.”

Captain Choi Seungcheol looked at you like he already knows you’re capable of handling yourself.

He just doesn’t want you doing it alone tonight.

=

It’s been a few days.

To Seungcheol, you were supposed to be one of those strange late-night encounters people forget after a week.

A tired doctor. A convenience store. That should’ve been it.

Except he remembered things annoyingly well.

Your name. Your face. The hospital ID hanging from your coat. The way you looked half dead but still stepped in front of a group of idiots without hesitation.

And apparently that information decided to stay lodged in his brain.

Which is why he’s currently standing inside the samer hospital he saw printed on your ID badge at nearly noon on three hours of sleep, staring at the giant directory board near the lobby while his best friend talks endlessly beside him.

“I’m telling you, it feels way better already,” Minho says while flexing his shoulder dramatically beneath his hoodie  “I think the medic overreacted.”

“You got stabbed.”

“It barely pierced.”

Seungcheol gives him a flat look.

Minho grins shamelessly “You worry too much, Capt”

They’re waiting outside OPD wing after Minho insisted he was “completely fine” for three straight days before finally admitting he couldn’t lift his arm properly.

The hospital around them moves like organized chaos.

In the thirteen minutes they’ve been standing there, Seungcheol has counted at least nine staff members rushing past.

Nurses pushing carts. Residents jogging with tablets in hand. A doctor speed-walking while eating half a sandwich and reading scans simultaneously.

It reminds him too much of command centers before operations.

Everyone moving with purpose. One mistake meaning disaster.

Life and death.

Just cleaner here. More fluorescent lighting. Less guns.

“You’re not even listening,” Minho complains

“Hm.”

“I said after this we should eat samgyeopsal.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s always a good idea.”

Seungcheol’s attention drifts again toward the ER hallway visible from the waiting area. Your hallway he assumes. He wonders briefly if you’re down there right now yelling at residents.

Then, all of a sudden

“Clear the way!”

The voice cuts sharply through the corridor. Immediate.

Everything shifts instantly. Nurses move aside. Orderlies straighten. People clear space without hesitation.

Seungcheol turns automatically toward the sound snd sees you.

For one suspended second, the entire hallway narrows into a single scene. A trauma bed flies through the corridor surrounded by staff.

You’re on top of it. Actually on top of it. Kneeling over the patient while the bed moves at full speed.

Your bloody gloves press down hard against someone’s chest.

“BP crashing!” Your voice slices through the panic perfectly steady.

“Resume compressions.”

You’re still wearing dark blue scrubs, sleeves shoved to your elbows. Blood streaks across your forearms. There’s something smeared near your jaw you clearly haven’t noticed.

But your face… your face is terrifyingly focused. Locked in.

The same way Seungcheol has seen soldiers during active operations. Pure training taking over.

He watches your hands move with brutal precision.

Compression. Count. Check. Compression. Count.

“Move!”

The bed rushes past. You don’t even notice him standing there. You’re too busy keeping someone alive.

And somehow that hits him harder than expected. Beside him, Minho goes unusually quiet.

“…Whoa.”

The trauma team disappears through double doors. Silence returns slowly afterward.

Distant announcements overhead.

But Seungcheol still stares at the doors. His military career has put him in firefights, covert extractions, hostage situations.

He knows pressure. He knows adrenaline.

Minho lets out a low whistle “Your doctors here are insane.”

Seungcheol’s eyes stay on the trauma doors.

Almost twenty minutes later, he sees you again. You come walking down the corridor slower this time, peeling off bloody gloves with tired movements.

There’s another doctor beside you speaking quickly about scans “…possible splenic rupture but neuro says pupils reacted after—”

“I know,” you interrupt while signing something on a clipboard mid-walk  “Page me the second CT is uploaded.”

Then you finally look up. And stop.

Your eyes land on him instantly. Recognition flashes then confusion.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near OPD hall looking offensively calm in all black while your hospital looks like it’s actively collapsing around you.

You blink once “What are you doing here?”

His gaze flicks over the blood on your scrubs “You work like this every day?”

You look down at yourself briefly

“Oh” You rub absently at the stain near your jaw and fail to remove it entirely “Pretty standard Wednesday.”

“It’s Friday,” Minho says helpfully. You stare at him.

“…I genuinely didn’t know that.”

That finally makes Seungcheol huff out a laugh. Small but you notice it immediately.

Annoyingly attractive.

The other doctor beside you looks between the three of you curiously before muttering something about checking scans and walking off.

Then it’s just you, Seungcheol, and the very energetic stranger beside him. Minho brightens immediately.

“I’m Minho,his co-worker, bestfriend, confidante, drinking buddy” he says enthusiastically, immediately you wonder how a man like him is friends with a man like Sengcheol but also it makes total sense.

“OHHH wait you’re the convenience store noona!”

You freeze. Slowly turn toward Seungcheol.

“…You told your friend about me?”

“I mentioned a doctor.”

“He absolutely did not just mention a doctor,” Minho says instantly  “He remembered your full hospital name from your ID badge—”

“Enough.”

You look back at Seungcheol with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t even look embarrassed.

If anything, he looks mildly annoyed his friend exposed him.

“So,” you say slowly “Captain Choi Seungcheol remembers details, huh?”

His gaze meets yours steadily “Yes.”

And for some reason, with alarms ringing somewhere deeper in the ER and your pulse still running on adrenaline that single word affects you more than it should.

You glance down at the chart in your hands, then back at them. That’s when you notice both men staring at you.

You blink. Then laugh tiredly.

“What?” You gesture vaguely to yourself “Need stitching up too?”

Minho looks alarmed for half a second before Seungcheol points toward your face.

“There’s blood on your chin,” he says

Automatically your hand flies there “…Ah”

Your fingers come away red. Right. You probably look horrifying.

You huff a laugh “I look like a crazy person right now.”

“You look like you fought someone.”

“I kind of did.”

Your answer comes so naturally both men go quiet for a beat. Then you shake your head slightly and look back at Seungcheol.

“But seriously,” you say, “why are you here?”

His expression stays calm as ever “Not me” Then he points beside him.

“Him.” Minho immediately waves enthusiastically again.

You stare at him for one second before laughing despite yourself and waving back with your bloodied hand.

“That’s somehow more concerning.”

“He’s dramatic,” Seungcheol says flatly

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to”

You snort softly then somewhere deeper in the ER, an alarm suddenly starts blaring. Immediately your posture changes.

Doctor mode again.

Your head turns toward the sound before your brain even catches up. One of the nurses appears around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N, they need you in Trauma 2”

“I’m coming.”

You look back at the two men.

“Well,” you say while already walking backward “try not to stab yourselves again.”

“It was one time,” Minho protests

Then you disappear back through the swinging ER doors.

For a few seconds Seungcheol keeps staring after you.

The automatic doors swing shut.

Silence.

“Oh my god.”

Seungcheol doesn’t look away from the hallway “Don’t”

“So someone has a crush.”

That finally makes him turn. Slowly. Dangerously.

Minho grins wider immediately “You remembered her hospital, her department, her name, the fact she works ER—”

Seungcheol elbows him hard in the ribs

“OW—yah!”

“You talk too much”

“You absolutely like her!”

“I met her twice”

“Exactly.” Minho points dramatically toward the ER doors “And you already got the brooding military man stare going on.”

“I always look like this.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

Seungcheol exhales through his nose and looks back toward the trauma wing again despite himself.

Minho nudges him again with a grin “You should ask for her number next time”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Right then, one of the ER doors swings open again. You walk out halfway, scanning a chart while speaking to a nurse beside you.

Then absentmindedly, you look again towards their direction and you lift your hand and wave once in their direction before disappearing again.

Minho bursts out laughing instantly.

“Oh you are finished”

=

Two months passed. Eight weeks.  Which, in your life, feels more like Eight hours.

Trauma cases blur together. Overnight surgeries become afternoon consults become thirty-minute naps in the call room before another emergency rolls in.

You forget meals. Forget what day it is. Forget to answer texts for three days straight.

But somehow you don’t entirely forget Captain Choi Seungcheol.

Mostly because that would require forgetting a face carved by some genuinely unfair higher power.

Not that it matters. You saw him twice and honestly, you assume he forgot about you too.

Military men like him probably disappear for months at a time doing things you legally shouldn’t ask about.

Then Wednesday evening happens.

Oddly calm for once. No active traumas. No screaming. You’re sitting at the nurse station reading through post-op charts while sipping coffee that tastes vaguely like burnt regret.

One of the nurses pokes her head around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N? OPD asked if someone can check a laceration. They’re short staffed.”

“Mhm. I’ll do it ” You grab the chart absentmindedly while walking.

Male. Thirty. Forearm injury. You barely register the name. Your eyes are too focused on lab notes as you push aside the curtain.

Then freeze.

Oh.

Captain Choi Seungcheol sits on the examination bed in a black compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up.

You haven’t seen him in two months and somehow he still manages to look unfairly intimidating in fluorescent hospital lighting.

His gaze lifts immediately when you walk in. There’s a split second where genuine surprise crosses his face.

“There you are,” he says. Like he’s been expecting you specifically.

You blink once “…Why are you in my hospital bleeding again?”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly “It’s not serious.”

You glance down toward the blood-soaked gauze wrapped around his forearm

“Mm,” you hum dryly “And I’m the queen of England.”

He actually huffs a laugh at that. You set the chart down and move closer. Only then do you notice the faint exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Like he hasn’t slept properly in days. Deployment, your brain supplies immediately.

You pull on gloves “What happened?”

“Scratch”

You slowly look up at him then deliberately peel back the gauze and immediately stop.

“…Captain.”

“It looks worse than it is.”

You stare at the deep graze tearing across his arm. Your eyes narrow slightly.

“That’s a bullet wound.”

“Barely.”

“Bullet wounds count as scratches now?”

“It grazed me”

“By definition, that is still being shot”

His eyes stay on your face while you work. Calm. Observant.

“You know what a bullet wound looks like?” he asks you, the question is casual but there’s something underneath it.

You continue cleaning the injury carefully “Apparently I do”

“You sound experienced”

You shrug one shoulder “Volunteer work overseas during residency”

“Where?”

“Borders near conflict zones mostly.” You pause. “Refugee camps. Emergency field hospitals”

You continue inspecting the wound.

“You?”

A faint smile touches his mouth “That’s classified”

You snort softly “Of course it is.”

“But yes,” he says after a second “Conflict zones”

You nod once like that explains everything because somehow it does.

You’ve seen soldiers before. Not polished recruitment-poster versions ,the exhausted kind, men who scan rooms before resting. Men who downplay injuries because pain becomes background noise eventually.

Captain Choi Seungcheol fits into that category too easily.

You disinfect the wound and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Either you have insane pain tolerance,” you murmur, “or your nerves are damaged”

“I’ve had worse.”

You glance at him briefly. That sentence unsettles you more than it should.

You begin stitching carefully. The room grows quieter.

Outside the curtain you hear distant announcements overhead, nurses chatting faintly, rolling carts passing by.

Inside just you and him.

“You disappeared” you say before thinking The words slip out accidentally.

Why did you say that?

But Seungcheol doesn’t look surprised

“Deployment,” he answers simply

“For a 8 weeks?”

“Longer than expected”

Your eyes flick toward him again. “And you came back straight to the hospital?”

“You’re here”

The answer comes so naturally you almost miss the implication entirely.

Your fingers still. Slowly you look up and he’s already watching you completely serious.

Your heartbeat does one very annoying thing against your ribs. You clear your throat and go back to stitching.

“You flirt terribly for someone this handsome”

That finally earns you a real laugh. Low and warm and rough around the edges from exhaustion.

“You think I’m handsome?”

You don’t even look up “I think you’re bleeding on my examination bed.”

“That wasn’t the question”

You tie off another stitch tighter than necessary. He doesn’t complain.

“You survived covert deployment missions,” you say coolly “You’ll survive not getting compliments.”

“Mm.” but he’s still looking at you like he already won anyway

You finish the last stitch and snip the thread cleanly.

“There,” you murmur “Try not to get shot again for at least a week.”

You peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin before leaning back slightly against the counter.

Now that the immediate task is done, the room settles into something quieter.

More dangerous somehow because Captain Choi Seungcheol looking at you while not actively bleeding is significantly harder to ignore.

Your eyes drift back to his face unintentionally.

Sharp nose. Strong jaw. Tired eyes. And apparently dimples.

You blink once.

Hold on.

He has dimples? You narrow your eyes slightly at him like this is personally offensive.

“What?” he asks

“You have dimples.”

That actually catches him off guard for half a second then he laughs softly again. And there they are. Deep enough to completely ruin your composure.

Oh, you’re in trouble.

You look away first before your dignity fully evaporates.

“So,” you say casually while writing notes on his chart, “safe to assume a man with a dangerous job like yours is single?”

His eyebrow lifts “That’s your professional medical assessment?”

“Absolutely.”

He leans back slightly against the bed, arms folding carefully to avoid the fresh stitches “And what’s the diagnosis based on?”

You pretend to think about it seriously. “Emotionally unavailable tendencies. Mild insomnia. Chronic work obsession.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“It should.”

He watches you for another second before the corner of his mouth lifts again “Safe to assume a woman with a job like yours is also single?”

“Would you like me to confirm or deny?”

His eyes sharpen immediately at the challenge.

“I’d like an answer.”

“Mm ” You tap the pen lightly against the chart “Maybe I enjoy keeping mysterious military captains stressed”

“You think I get stressed?”

“You came into a hospital with a bullet wound and called it a scratch” You tilt your head. “That’s either confidence or brain damage.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

“You’re persistent.”

“You’re avoiding.”

You stare at each other for one suspended second then your pager suddenly explodes to life against your waist.

Of course.

You close your eyes briefly. The hospital truly refuses to let you experience peace for more than twelve consecutive seconds. You glance down at the screen and sigh.

“Trauma consult,” you mutter

Seungcheol watches the immediate switch happen again. The way your entire posture changes instinctively the second work calls.

Like someone flipping a switch.

You grab another pair of gloves from the counter.

Before leaving, you pause by the curtain and look back at him.

“Come back in three days,” you say “I’ll check the wound.”

One of his eyebrows lifts slowly then that smug little smirk appears.

“A date then?”

You stare at him. Honestly stare.

Because the audacity.

Then, against your own will, you feel yourself smiling.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Captain”

“But you’re asking to see me again”

“Medically”

“Mm.”

“And if you reopen those stitches before then,” you continue while backing toward the door, “I’m charging you emotional damages”

His gaze follows you effortlessly.

“What if I come back without reopening them?”

You pause then point at him once.

“That,” you say, “depends how charming you manage to be in three days”

And before he can answer you disappear through the curtain again.

Leaving Captain Choi Seungcheol sitting alone in the examination room with fresh stitches, a slightly racing heartbeat, and the sudden realization that he is absolutely coming back in three days.

=

Three days later, you accidentally spend fifteen whole minutes staring at yourself in the hospital bathroom mirror.

Which is ridiculous. Actually ridiculous.

You’ve gone to work looking half dead for years. You’ve stitched arteries together after thirty-hour shifts looking like a raccoon dragged out of a hurricane.

And yet today you actually combed your hair properly. Your usually rushed bun is neat for once, not held together by stress and blind faith.

You even put on the faintest lip tint. Nothing dramatic.Just enough to make you look less like the hospital crypt keeper.

And the perfume— god. You haven’t touched that perfume in months.

One spray. That’s it.

You blame sleep deprivation. Clearly your frontal lobe is failing.

The second you walk into the ER station, Head Nurse Yang narrows her eyes at you immediately.

Ms. Yang has worked trauma nursing longer than you’ve been a surgeon.

Nothing escapes her. Not fear. Not exhaustion and apparently not lip tint either.

“Hm,” she hums suspiciously

You don’t look up from the charts in your hands “What?”

“Something’s different”

You keep your voice perfectly casual “Huh?”

Ms. Yang continues staring.

“I don’t see it,” you say quickly

“Mhm.” That single hum holds seventy years of judgment.

You ignore her mostly because if you acknowledge it, you’ll have to admit you spent ten entire minutes deciding between two shades of lipstick this morning like a lunatic.

The ER stays surprisingly manageable through most of the afternoon.

A motorcycle accident. Two fractures. One drunk guy insisting his traffic cone was “emotionally supportive.”

Standard Wednesday.

By around three, you’re finishing notes at the nurse station when one of the younger nurses approaches with an amused smile.

“Dr. Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Your patient is here” Something in her tone makes your eyes narrow immediately.

“My patient?”

The nurse tries—and fails—to hide her grin.

You look up and there he is. Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near the ER entrance in dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt rolled to his forearms.

No tactical gear this time.no visible injuries beyond the healing stitches beneath his bandage which honestly makes him worse somehow.

Because now there’s nothing distracting you from the fact he looks unfairly good standing under fluorescent hospital lights.

His gaze lands on you instantly. His eyes sharpen slightly.

You stand slowly from your chair.

Behind you, Ms. Yang suddenly makes a tiny noise of realization “Oh.”

Traitor. You ignore her with dignity. Mostly.

Seungcheol walks over calmly, hands tucked loosely into his pockets

“You look different,” he says immediately

You cross your arms “You sound like Head Nurse Yang.”

Your stomach betrays you in the most embarrassing way imaginable by flipping slightly. Professionalism. Remember professionalism.

You clear your throat “Did you reopen the wound?”

“No.”

“Fever?”

“No.”

“Pain?”

“Manageable.”

You nod once  “Good. Follow me.”

You lead him toward one of the smaller examination rooms, painfully aware of at least three nurses watching with open interest. The second the door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes.

Quieter.

You gesture toward the examination bed.

“Sit.”

You step between his knees to unwrap the bandage carefully, and immediately realize this was a tactical mistake because now he’s close.

Way too close.

You catch traces of clean soap and something woodsy beneath it. Your perfume probably mixes with it in the tiny room.

Fantastic.

You focus on the wound instead. The stitches look good. Healing cleanly. No infection.

“You listened,” you murmur while inspecting the skin

“I follow orders sometimes”

“Liar”

A soft laugh rumbles from his chest. You glance up instinctively… big mistake because he’s already looking at you.

Not your hands. Not the wound. You. Your fingers still briefly against his arm.

There’s a beat of silence.

“You wore perfume”

Your eyes widen slightly. Oh, he’s observant-observant.

You recover quickly “You noticed?”

“You walked in and three nurses looked at you like they’d discovered hospital gossip for the next month”

“I’m transferring departments.”

He laughs quietly again and there are those stupid dimples. You finish rewrapping his arm carefully.

“Captain, if you flirt while I’m holding scissors, that’s on you”

“I think you like me.”

You look up slowly “Oh?”

“You haven’t denied it once.”

The confidence on this man.

Honestly.

You tie off the bandage tighter than necessary. He doesn’t even react.

“You military men are exhausting”

“And yet,” he says calmly, “you wore perfume”

You finish securing the clean bandage around his arm carefully, fingers smoothing the tape against warm skin.

“Alright,” you say, slipping back into your practiced doctor voice before this room gets any more dangerous. “Keep it dry and clean for another week. No heavy strain on the arm.”

“Yes ma’am.” Your hand pauses for half a second against his wrist.

Oh.

Oh that voice should genuinely come with a warning label. Low. Smooth. Obedient in the most deliberate way possible.

You recover professionally. Mostly.

“Don’t lift anything stupid,” you continue calmly

“Yes ma’am.”

Your soul briefly leaves your body. You clear your throat and refuse to acknowledge the fact your ears suddenly feel warm.

“Also,” you say while reaching for the chart a little too quickly, “if the wound opens, if you get feverish, dizzy, increased pain, redness—come back immediately.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You finally look up at him properly. His expression is completely composed. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And the worst part? He absolutely does.

You narrow your eyes slightly “You seem very pleased with yourself right now”

“I’m following instructions.”

“You’re weaponizing manners.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. Those stupid dimples appear again.

You need the universe to stop giving this man additional attractive features.

For public safety.

You finish scribbling notes onto his chart before setting the clipboard aside.

Then casually—very casually—you say:

“And for the record…”

His gaze lifts immediately. You peel off your gloves slowly, tossing them into the bin.

“I can actually look like this,” you gesture vaguely toward yourself, “on a good day.”

There’s a beat of silence. Seungcheol looks at you fully then.

His eyes move over your neat hair, your glossed lips, the perfume he already noticed, the version of you that exists outside blood stains and overnight exhaustion.

Then he breaks into a smile. Warm enough to completely transform his face.

Dimples and all.

“Here I was,” he says softly, “thinking you were going on a date”

You raise an eyebrow immediately while reaching for the discharge forms.

“I thought this was one.”

Silence. Then Seungcheol smirks. Slowly. Like he enjoys watching you land hits back just as much as giving them.

Dangerous man. Absolute menace.

You sign off the chart and step outside the room where the assigned nurse is very obviously pretending not to eavesdrop. She startles slightly when you hand her the paperwork.

“Discharge complete” you say with suspicious professionalism.

“Yes doctor,” she answers equally suspiciously.

You turn back toward Seungcheol as he stands from the examination bed.

You pull a business card from your coat pocket and hold it out to him.

“My direct line,” you say

His eyebrows lift slightly as he takes it.

“You know,” you add casually, “for whenever there’s emergency anything.”

His thumb brushes over the card once while reading your name. Then he looks up at you slowly.

“Emergency anything?”

You cross your arms lightly “Bullet wounds. Concussions. Poor decision making.”

“What category is asking you to dinner under?”

Your breath catches for the tiniest second.

This man.

You tilt your head “Depends.”

“On?”

“How good the restaurant is.”

He chuckles quietly “Yes ma’am.”

And there it is again.

That damn yes ma’am.

You genuinely have to look away for a moment just to preserve what’s left of your composure.

Behind you, the nurse suddenly makes a choking sound suspiciously similar to holding in laughter.

Traitor.

You point toward the hallway before your dignity fully collapses.

“Out,” you say firmly. “Before I prescribe bed rest permanently.”

Seungcheol starts walking backward toward the exit, eyes still on you.

“Dinner Friday?”

“You’re very confident for someone recently shot.”

“You gave me your number.”

“For emergencies.”

“Meeting you sounds medically necessary.”

You actually laugh then. Real enough that a few nurses glance over curiously.

And Seungcheol notices that too. The fact he made you laugh and something softer flickers across his face for half a second.

Then he taps your card lightly against his chest pocket.

“I’ll text you, doctor.”

And somehow that simple promise feels far more dangerous than any bullet wound ever could.

=

Friday arrives surprisingly fast.

Mostly because your week disappears under consults, surgeries, and one forty-eight-year-old man who somehow managed to fracture his wrist trying to “race” his nephew.

But eventually—

Friday.

Your actual rest day.

Which feels fictional.

You wake up without an alarm for the first time in weeks and stare at your ceiling in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.

Then your phone lights up.

Seungcheol: 7pm. Don’t be late, doctor.

You smile before you can stop yourself.

The entire afternoon becomes embarrassingly unfamiliar territory for you because apparently you no longer know how to prepare for things outside hospital shifts.

You stand in front of your closet way too long. Reject three outfits. Reject four more and eventually settle on something simple but nice enough to make you feel human instead of clinically exhausted.

You even do your hair properly this time instead of throwing it up in survival mode.

When Seungcheol texts offering to pick you up, you refuse immediately. Mostly because the thought of him seeing you standing outside your apartment nervous makes you want to launch yourself into traffic.

So instead you agree to meet there.

The restaurant he picked is one of those impossible-to-book places tucked between city streets glowing warm with hanging lights and low music.

Packed even on a Friday evening. The kind of place where conversations melt together softly and plates constantly clink against tables.

Then the restaurant doors open.

And there he is. Black button-up. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Dark jeans. Hair slightly damp like he showered quickly before coming.

You hate how immediately your stomach flips.

His eyes find you almost instantly across the restaurant.

Then soften like seeing you relaxes something in him automatically.

God help you.

He reaches the table and pauses just long enough to look you over openly.

“You look pretty.”

Straight to the point. No hesitation. You blink once at the sincerity of it.

Then recover enough to smirk lightly.

“You clean up well yourself, Captain.”

“I tried.”

“I can tell.”

His dimples appear briefly when he pulls your chair out for you.

Oh you’re doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Dinner starts easily after that. Too easily.

Conversation flows without effort somehow.

You learn he drinks coffee black enough to qualify as chemical warfare. He learns you once fell asleep standing up during residency and scared an intern half to death. You tease him for being terrifyingly observant. He teases you for pretending not to care while clearly caring a lot.

The food arrives eventually and thankfully lives up to the hype.

At one point you’re halfway through laughing because he admitted Minho once accidentally set off an alarm during training—

Then his phone rings.

Everything changes instantly.

You see it happen in real time. His posture straightens before he even answers.

Eyes sharpen. Expression hardens.

Soldier.

He checks the caller ID once and immediately stands.

“Excuse me.”

You nod quietly. He answers the call a few steps away from the table.

“Yes sir.”

Pause.

“I understand.”

Another pause.

“I’m on my way.”

By the time he hangs up, his jaw is tight. And when he looks back at you—

There it is.

That look.

You know it immediately. Too well.

You’ve worn it yourself after interrupted dinners, canceled holidays, sleepless nights.

Duty first. Always.

The guilt of leaving. The frustration of having no choice.

He walks back over quickly “Y/N, I—”

You smile before he can finish “Go.”

His expression tightens further

 “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s—” “Seungcheol.”

That makes him stop. You lean back slightly in your chair, softer now.

“I get it.” And you do.

Completely.

Because trauma surgery isn’t kind either. You’ve left meals untouched. Missed birthdays. Walked away from people mid-conversation because somebody somewhere stopped breathing.

You know what it means when lives depend on you showing up.

You’ve lived it. So you just smile gently and say:

“Duty calls.”

Something in his expression shifts at that. Like relief mixed with something heavier.

“We can reschedule,” you continue lightly. “Seriously. It’s fine.”

For a second he just looks at you like maybe he expected disappointment or anger or someone who wouldn’t understand this part of him.

Instead you simply hand him an easy out. No guilt attached.

“You sure?” he asks quietly

You nod once “Go save the world, Captain.”

A breath of a laugh leaves him. Then he reaches for his wallet immediately. You open your mouth to protest.

“Don’t,” he says. You close it again. He pays quickly, apologizes to the waiter, then turns back to you one last time.

“You’ll text me when you get home?” There it is again. Even rushing toward danger, he’s still making sure you’re okay first.

You smile softly “Yes, Captain”

He stares at you for one second then laughs despite himself.

“Troublemaker.”

“Go.”

Reluctantly, he does. You watch him disappear through the restaurant doors.

A few moments later you hear it, the deep rev of his motorcycle outside. Then it fades rapidly into the night as he speeds away toward whatever emergency dragged him from dinner.

And strangely enough you don’t feel upset.

Disappointed maybe. A little. But not because of him, mainly because you wanted to spend more time with him.

But mostly you understand him now maybe more than either of you expected.

=

Thirteen weeks pass after the interrupted dinner. 91 Day.

Thirteen long, busy, exhausting weeks.

At first, you check your phone more than you should. Not obsessively. Just… enough to annoy yourself.

A part of you knows better.

Captain Choi Seungcheol warned you from the start without really saying it outright.

Covert assignments. Deployments. Disappearances.

The kind of job where silence sometimes means safety.

Then two days after your date, the news breaks.

Some international incident overseas. Nothing detailed. Just enough military presence mentioned for your stomach to twist unpleasantly.

You stare at the television mounted in the hospital cafeteria longer than necessary.

Then force yourself back to work because that’s what both of you do, apparently.

You throw yourself into surgeries. Into consults. Into twenty-hour shifts and caffeine and organized chaos. And eventually you stop expecting texts.

Stop glancing at your phone every hour.

You accept it quietly.

This is what being involved with someone like him means.

Long silences. Uncertainty. Waiting without asking questions.

Still, sometimes late at night between cases, you think about him.

About dimples and smug smiles and black motorcycles disappearing into the dark.

And annoyingly enough—

You miss him.

Which feels absurd considering technically you only had one almost-date.

Tonight the ER is chaos again.

Not trauma-level chaos. Just deeply irritating chaos.

A group of men got into a massive fight outside some nightclub and now half of them are crowded into emergency bays drunk, bleeding, loud, and incredibly uncooperative.

One has a broken nose. Another possibly fractured ribs. One guy keeps trying to flirt with nurses while actively vomiting.

You’re already tired.

Now you’re tired and annoyed.

“Sit still,” you say sharply while trying to examine a cut above one patient’s eyebrow

The man smells aggressively like alcohol.

“I’m fine,” he slurs

“You’re bleeding on my floor.”

“You’re pretty.”

“And you’re concussed.”

One of the nearby guards snorts quietly. The drunk patient suddenly jerks his arm away.

You grab for gauze before it falls and the man shoves you unexpectedly.

Everything happens fast.

Your balance tips backward instantly. You’re already mentally calculating how badly this floor is about to hurt when a solid arm catches you around the waist before you hit the ground.

Firm. Steady. Immovable.

You inhale sharply. The familiar scent hits first.

Soap. Leather. Cold night air.

Then warmth.

You look up immediately.

And your heart nearly stops.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands behind you in full uniform. Not casual clothes. Not civilian. Uniform.

Dark tactical gear still dusted faintly with dirt like he came straight from somewhere far away.

Broad shoulders. Heavy boots. Black gloves.

And his face—Jesus. He looks terrifying. Cold enough to freeze the entire room.

The guards straighten instantly.bEven the drunk men go quieter.

Seungcheol barely notices any of them at first. His eyes scan you rapidly instead.

“You hurt?” The question comes immediately.

Your brain short-circuits slightly because he’s here. Actually here.

You blink once “I’m fine.”

His hand remains firm at your waist another second longer like confirming it himself. Only when he’s certain you’re steady does he move. Then suddenly you’re being guided gently behind him.

Protected instinctively.

The shift is so natural it almost startles you.

Seungcheol steps between you and the drunk patient completely.

The room changes instantly.

The drunk guy straightens defensively. “Who the hell are—”

“Sit down.”

The command slices through the ER. Absolutely lethal underneath.

The man actually hesitates.

Seungcheol’s gaze locks onto him steadily “You assaulted medical staff.”

“I barely touched—” “You put your hands on a doctor while intoxicated inside an emergency department.”

“You will sit down,” he says evenly, “and you will cooperate with treatment.”

The drunk man scoffs weakly. “Or what?”

Behind Seungcheol, you almost sigh. Poor idiot.

Because you’ve seen that look before now. The hypercontrolled one. The one soldiers get when violence becomes an option they’re actively suppressing.

Seungcheol tilts his head slightly.

“Or security removes you,” he says calmly. “And I become significantly less polite.”

Then immediately the drunk man sits.

One of the guards coughs suspiciously like he’s hiding laughter. You cross your arms behind Seungcheol, trying very hard not to look affected.

Failing horribly.

Because good lord.

There’s something deeply unfair about this man appearing out of nowhere looking like a military recruitment poster designed specifically to ruin your emotional stability.

The patient mutters curses under his breath but stays seated now.

Seungcheol waits another moment before finally turning back toward you. And instantly his expression changes again.

Softer.

Like the terrifying soldier disappeared the second he looked at you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You stare at him.

Weeks of no messages. No calls. Then suddenly he’s here catching you mid-fall like some absurd action movie entrance.

Your brain struggles briefly.

“You vanished,” you blurt out before thinking.

His eyes flicker slightly “I know.”

The answer is quiet and annoyingly sincere.

You open your mouth then another patient across the room starts yelling.

The universe truly hates timing.

Seungcheol notices immediately and huffs the tiniest breath of amusement.

“You’re busy.”

“You think?”

His gaze lingers on your face a second longer.

Then lower. To your wrist. Very gently, he adjusts the sleeve of your coat where the drunk patient grabbed you like he’s making sure you’re unharmed without making a scene about it.

Your pulse betrays you instantly.

“I just landed,” he says quietly. “Came straight here.”

Before you can answer, one of the nurses suddenly appears beside you looking between both of you with absolutely shameless curiosity.

“Doctor,” she says carefully, “Trauma 1 needs you.”

Of course they do.

You exhale through your nose. Then look back at Seungcheol.

He steps aside immediately.

“I’ll wait,” he says.

And for the first time in three exhausting weeks you smile without even trying to stop it.

Seungcheol stays near the edge of the nurses’ station after you leave him there, broad shoulders still carrying traces of travel and exhaustion from deployment.

He should probably report back first. Should probably head home. Should probably sleep after nearly twenty hours in transit.

Instead he’s standing in a crowded emergency room at almost midnight watching a trauma surgeon terrify grown men.

His eyes follow you automatically. Always finding you no matter how chaotic the room gets.

You move fast.

A nurse meets you halfway with charts already open and you barely glance down before issuing orders.

“Get repeat vitals on Bed 6.”

“Where’s radiology?”

“Page ortho again and tell them if they ignore me this time I’m dragging them down here myself.”

“Yes doctor.”

Another patient starts yelling about pain medication. You don’t even look up from stitching a split lip.

“You threw a chair at a paramedic fifteen minutes ago,” you say calmly. “You can survive five more minutes.”

The patient immediately quiets.

One of the residents beside you mutters, “Scary.”

You hear it “Then stop forgetting chart updates.”

“Yes doctor.”

Seungcheol almost laughs because there it is again.

That switch. The same one he saw the first day in the hallway when you were covered in blood kneeling over a crashing patient.

The terrifying competence. You become sharper under pressure. Like chaos organizes itself around you instead of the other way around.

It’s familiar to him. Too familiar. In military operations, the best leaders aren’t the loudest. They’re the calmest when everyone else starts panicking.

And youu command this emergency room exactly like that.

People move when you speak because they know you know what you’re doing.

A drunk patient suddenly grabs at a nurse’s wrist aggressively.

Seungcheol straightens immediately on instinct. But before he can move you’re already there.

“Hands off her.” Your voice cuts through the room cleanly

The patient scoffs drunkenly “Relax sweetheart—”

“Security.” The single word lands like a gunshot. Two guards instantly move forward.

The patient starts protesting immediately but you don’t even spare him another glance, already turning back toward your nurse.

“You okay?”

The nurse nods quickly. You squeeze her shoulder once before continuing down the row of beds like nothing happened.

One of the security guards near him notices where he’s looking and chuckles quietly.

“Dr. Y/L/N is usually scary,” the older man says knowingly.

Seungcheol’s eyes remain on you. You’re currently arguing with a resident twice your size while simultaneously putting pressure on someone’s bleeding shoulder.

“Mm.”

The guard grins. “Whole ER’s terrified of her when she gets like this.”

Across the room you snap your fingers toward another doctor “You. Gloves. Now.”

“Yes doctor.”

The guard laughs harder “See?”

But Seungcheol just watches you. Really watches you.

God.

To everyone else in this room, you probably do look intimidating.

Untouchable almost.

But to him you’re the prettiest thing he’s seen in weeks.

Maybe ever.

And that realization hits him with genuinely embarrassing force because Captain Choi Seungcheol has spent years avoiding attachment.

It’s easier that way.

His work requires distance, disappearing without explanations, accepting that one day he might not come back from deployment at all.

People like him don’t build stable relationships.

He learned that early. Yet here he is. Standing in a hospital ER watching you bully drunk patients and overworked residents with stars practically in his eyes.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

As if sensing him watching, you glance up suddenly from across the room.

Your eyes meet his immediately and your whole face changes. Just subtly softer around the edges.

Enough that he notices  his chest tightens unpleasantly.

You mouth something that looks suspiciously like: You okay?

Seungcheol nods once.

Your gaze lingers another second before you’re pulled away again by a nurse waving scans at you urgently.

The security guard beside him whistles low.

“…Oh.”

Seungcheol doesn’t bother asking what that means.

Because honestly? He knows. For a man trained to read threats, surveillance patterns, battlefield movement… It’s humiliatingly obvious.

Captain Choi Seungcheol is completely done for.

By the time he gets back to base, it’s nearly 3 a.m. Technically, his day should’ve ended hours ago. Instead, he spent the last several hours lingering in your ER while pretending he wasn’t waiting specifically for your shift to end.

You noticed, obviously.

Around midnight you finally walked over to him still carrying charts under one arm and said, “You know normal people go home and sleep.”

“I was making sure nobody pushed you again.”

Your eyes softened immediately at that. Which honestly felt more dangerous than any deployment he’s survived.

Eventually around two in the morning, your shift finally ended and for the first time since knowing you, Seungcheol saw you genuinely exhausted.

Actually exhausted.

Your steps slower. Eyes heavy. Hair half falling from your bun. You still tried to argue with him outside the hospital though.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s 2 a.m.”

“I’m not getting on your death machine.”

He blinked once “Death machine?”

“Your motorcycle”

“That hurts my feelings”

“It should”

He almost laughed right there in the parking lot. Then finally sighed and held up his keys.

“I took the car tonight.”

You stopped, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“…You own a car?”

“I’m capable of normal civilian behavior occasionally”

“Debatable.”

The drive starts quiet. Streetlights passing across your tired face in brief golden flashes.

At first you try staying awake. You really do. You ask him something about whether military cafeterias are actually as bad as people claim.

He asks if all surgeons survive entirely on caffeine and spite.

You laugh softly at that. Then gradually your replies get slower. Quieter. By the fourth red light, he glances over and realizes your eyes are barely open anymore.

“You can sleep” he says quietly

“M’not sleepin”

“You just lost a fight with your seatbelt five seconds ago”

“No I didn’t” You immediately drift sideways against the window.

A minute later you mumble, barely coherent “Address…” You unlock your phone halfway, fail, then eventually just type your apartment address into the dashboard navigation with sleepy determination.

After that? Done. Completely out cold within five minutes. No hesitation. No worry. Just trust.

It hits him strangely hard because people don’t usually fall asleep around him that easily. But you, you simply curled slightly into the passenger seat and slept. Like some exhausted part of you already decided he was safe.

Seungcheol drives slower after that. Careful over speed bumps. One hand steady on the wheel while city lights blur past the windshield.

At one point you shift in your sleep, face turning slightly toward him.

And God. He’s done for.

Absolutely catastrophically done for.

When he reaches your apartment building, he debates waking you immediately.

Instead he sits there for a second. Just looking.

Your face finally relaxed without hospital stress tightening your features. Soft breathing.

You look younger while asleep. Nothing like the terrifying trauma surgeon ordering residents around an ER.

Eventually he reaches over carefully.

“Y/N.” You make a tiny sound but don’t wake

His mouth twitches.

“Doctor.” Still nothing.

Then finally,

“Pretty girl”

Your eyes crack open instantly. Seungcheol nearly laughs at your betrayed expression.

“You’re evil” you mumble sleepily

“You drool when you sleep”

“I hate you”

“Sure”

You grumble under your breath the entire way to your apartment entrance while half asleep.bHe waits until you unlock your door safely.

Only before stepping inside, you turn back toward him.

Hair messy. Eyes barely open.

Beautiful.

“Text me when you get back”  Then you disappear inside before he can even answer properly.

And now hours later, Seungcheol closes the office door inside the base quietly, exhausted down to the bone.

He tosses his keys onto the desk. Rolls tension from his shoulders.

Finally alone or so he thinks.

“…So”

Seungcheol freezes instantly.

A figure emerges from the darkness of the office couch like an actual demon. Minho sits there with the most evil grin imaginable and a convenience store drink in hand.

Seungcheol stares “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough”

“You’re creepy.”

“And you,” Minho says while pointing dramatically, “are in love.”

Seungcheol immediately starts walking toward the coffee machine instead

“No.”

“Captain Choi Seungcheol voluntarily drove a woman home in his car instead of disappearing into the void after deployment.”

“She was tired”

“She fell asleep in your car?”

Silence. Minho gasps loudly. “Oh my GOD she fell asleep in your car”

“She works thirty hour shifts”

“She TRUSTS you”

“She was exhausted”

“You looked at her while she slept, didn’t you?” Seungcheol pauses for one fatal second. Minho screams.

“YOU DID!”

“Keep your voice down”

“You’re smiling!”

“I’m not”

“You literally have heart eyes right now.”

Seungcheol rubs one hand down his face tiredly whiich unfortunately only confirms everything further.

Minho jumps off the couch immediatel “This is insane. Captain Emotionally Unavailable actually caught feelings.”

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

“You drove slower because she was sleeping, didn’t you?”

Silence again.

Minho points aggressively. “Pathetic”

“She asked me to text her when I got back.”

That shuts Minho up immediately. Then slowly his grin returns ten times worse.

“Oh,” he says softly “Oh you’re both gone”

Seungcheol exhales heavily and pulls out his phone despite himself.bOne unread message already waits there.

you: did u get back safe or did the military finally lose their best employee

His chest does something deeply embarrassing. Minho watches his expression carefully then cackles loud enough to wake the entire base.

Minho is still laughing when Seungcheol finally drops heavily into the office chair.

Outside the office windows, the base is mostly quiet at this hour. A few distant footsteps. Radios crackling somewhere down the hall.

Meanwhile his best friend is having the time of his life watching him suffer.

“So,” Minho says while dragging a chair over dramatically, “tell me everything”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar”

Seungcheol leans back and closes his eyes briefly.

Instant mistake.

Because immediately he thinks of your face.

Hair falling loose in the ER. Sharp eyes over surgical masks. Soft sleepy expression in his passenger seat.

“See?” Minho points aggressively. “You’re doing it again!”

“Doing what?”

“That thing where you stare into space like you’re hearing wedding bells.”

Seungcheol opens one eye slowly “I can still have you transferred.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

“You’re too happy lately.”

That makes Seungcheol snort quietly despite himself.

Happy.

Strange word. Not one he usually associates with himself. His life is schedules and classified files and deployments that end with blood on tactical gloves.

Not… this.

Not waiting outside emergency rooms just to drive someone home.

Minho studies him for another second before suddenly asking:

“So how is it? she looked extra scary tonight?”

And annoyingly enough Seungcheol knows exactly what he means. He exhales slowly and drags one hand down his face.

“She does this thing,” he says before stopping himself.

Minho immediately lights up. “OH MY GOD THERE’S A THING.”

“Shut up.”

“No continue.”

Seungcheol stares at the ceiling for a second, Trying and failing to sound normal.

“When she’s focused,” he says quietly, “everything else disappears ”

His mind flashes back instantly.You standing in the middle of the ER chaos while everyone moved around you.

Blood on your gloves. Sharp voice cutting through noise. Completely locked in.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

Alive.

You're pretty when you're focused, in your element.

Then another image surfaces. You asleep in his passenger seat. Head tilted slightly toward him.

Trusting him enough to completely let go.

His chest tightens again at the memory.

And he can't help but think you're even prettier when you're like that, relaxed, void of any stress, just you.

Then the worst or best one really.  The most dangerous one.

You looking at him. Not doctor-to-patient. Not teasing. Just… looking at him softly after recognizing him in that ER tonight.

Relief hidden in your eyes. Like you were genuinely happy he came back safe.

And that— that one nearly kills him.

“The prettiest,” Seungcheol says finally, voice quieter now, “when she looks at me.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

Then Minho slowly lowers his drink onto the desk “…There you go again.”

Seungcheol blinks once “What?”

“Floating away”

“I’m sitting right here”

“No,” Minho says dramatically while pointing at him, “physically yes. Spiritually? You’re holding hands with her in a sunflower field”

That actually makes Seungcheol laugh.

Minho stares at him in disbelief afterward then shakes his head slowly.

“I have never,” he says firmly, “and I mean never ever seen you like this.”

Seungcheol falls quiet again. Because honestly? Neither has he. He’s spent years carefully detached from people. Not cold just practical.

His job taught him early that attachment complicates survival.

You leave easier when nothing waits for you.

But now there’s suddenly a trauma surgeon with messy handwriting and terrifying leadership skills occupying his thoughts at three in the morning.

A woman who understands duty instead of resenting it. Who patched bullet wounds without flinching. Who fell asleep in his car like she trusted him instinctively.

And worst of all… he wants more.

More dinners.

More late-night drives.

More sarcastic comments thrown at him over coffee.

More of you looking at him like he came back.

Seungcheol exhales slowly through his nose “…This is bad.”

Minho immediately points at him again. “That is the face of a man already planning marriage.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Seungcheol shakes his head once, but there’s no real denial left in it now because somewhere between the convenience store, the ER hallways, and you asleep in his passenger seat…

Captain Choi Seungcheol fell hard.

“Terrorism? Wow, tell us how you really feel, Y/N,” Jun retorts playfully. “But fine. Anon, if they’ve been feeding you breadcrumbs for half a year, that’s basically emotional warfare. Please save yourself and block them on everything𑁋and yes, that includes on Spotify.”

You snort at that, tapping your pen against your script notes that you’ve been barely following anyway. The show had practically devolved from advice to whatever banter you and Jun had cooked up on the spot. “Exactly. Listeners, if your situationship has an expiration date longer than expired milk, it’s time to toss it. Jun is too sweet to say it, so I’ll do it. Run.” 

“I𑁋’too sweet’?!” A dramatic gasp tumbles out of Jun as he spins his chair toward you. “I was the one who told last week’s caller to roast her boyfriend’s dick like a marshmallow because he kept forgetting her birthday!” 

“But you said it with, like, the sweetest voice ever!”

“That man deserved to get emotionally blue-balled! How can you forget your girlfriend’s own birthday for a second year in a row?” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s basically audible over the mic. “God, Junhui, you have the emotional range of a raccoon.” 

“I’ll take it.” Jun grins at that, thrusting his shoulders back as if he’s trying to appear bigger and more intimidating. “At least raccoons are cute, right?” 

On your laptop, the chat is going crazy.

user: here we go again with their flirty banter 🙄 user: JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY YOU TWO!!!!!!!!! user: i swear this radio show is hosted by 2 delusional idiots user: i think they should kiss idk

“No, we shouldn’t!” You exclaim at the chat like you’re scolding a bunch of twelve-year olds. 

Jun nearly hops out of his seat. “Wait, I agree!” 

“Wen Junhui!”

“What? I was agreeing with you!” 

“That was not you agreeing with me,” You groan. “You agreed to kissing me.” 

“Well, the chat started it, so don’t put all the blame on me,” Jun says with a pout, folding his arms together. “Plus, it would be good for research purposes, wouldn’t it?” 

Your eyes bulge out of your skull, your mind and face flaming up. “You’re such a𑁋we host a radio show, not a damn lab!”

“Chemistry is still relevant! And chemistry is needed for relationships!” 

“We are not in a relationship, oh my, God.”

“Hypothetically, Y/N. Think hypotheticals.” Jun clicks his tongue, letting out playful tsk-tsk-tsk. “I’m telling you our ratings would absolutely skyrocket.”

You fight back the smile threatening to split your face in half, but there’s no point in trying to battle it. After being best friends with Jun for most of your life and witnessing pretty much all the stupid shit he has ever said or done, you’ve long accepted that his brand of chaos is the only thing in this world that can make your chest too tight and too warm at the same time. Especially if it involves the playful flirting you’ve been bouncing on for years. 

“Whatever, to answer your question𑁋raccoons are cute, but they’re also known for making stupid life decisions,” You point out with a victorious smirk. “So, maybe not the best comparison to make. It’s accurate, regardless.”

“Harsh,” he whines, but his eyes𑁋those stupid, unfairly expressive eyes of his𑁋sparkle with teasing delight. “Alright, onto the final submission of the night. Anonymous says…”

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air, I’ve been supporting the show since the very beginning, and now, I think I’m in trouble enough to make a submission.  I’m in love with my best friend. I have been for years and it struck me pretty hard this morning. Is it weird to say when I first met them it felt like love at first sight? We talk every day to the point that everyone assumes we’re together, but we’re not. They’re kind, funny, and sometimes I think they deserve someone better than me. But is it selfish of me to say that I want to keep them in my life forever? Even if that line isn’t crossed?  What should I do??? 🐱

The studio falls silent for a few moments after Jun finishes reading. The shift in the air is immediately noticeable, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. When Jun picks his head back up to look at you after reading the confession, his usual smirk is still in place, but fades just a tad when he catches the contemplative expression on your face.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

“Huh?” You blink back up at him. “Oh, shit. Right, uh…”

You can’t tell if it’s the late night hour getting to you or something else entirely. You’ve received so many similar confessions before𑁋a best friend falling in love with their other half, the slow and torturous ache of unspoken feelings, the fear of messing up something that’s already so beautiful itself. And ultimately, your advice has always stayed the same.

But when you meet eyes with Jun, it’s as if the words have completely cut your tongue off. You finally clear your throat. 

“First of all, welcome cat anon to the club of people who are all vicariously and collectively screwed together,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish we hadn’t read yours at the very last minute since we’re about in end in five𑁋”

Jun lifts a brow. “Wait, we have about fifteen𑁋”

“𑁋but I’ll just say that you aren’t selfish for wanting to keep them in your life. But you are doing a disservice keeping it locked away forever. This kind of love doesn’t come around twice. So tell them, even if it scares you. What’s the worst that could happen, you know?” 

You can feel Jun’s heavy gaze linger on the side of your face.

“Exactly, anon,” he jumps in like the professional he is. “Ripping the band-aid off would only hurt temporarily, right? And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll be here next week with some ice cream recommendations to help you cope.” 

“Keep in mind what Jun said, guys,” You say, forcing a small laugh. “Thank you all for turning into Love On Air. Stay honest, stay unhinged, and send that one person a risky text. If you want to submit a confession, please send one to our email. We are live every Saturday on FM 98.7! Goodnight, everyone!” 

You kill your microphone first as the ON LIVE sign on the wall blinks out with a soft click. Jun switches off his microphone right after, and the silence that washes over the studio is louder than anything else. 

For a moment, neither of you moves.

You still feel the ghost of Jun’s gaze warm on your cheek from when you were giving advice just a minute ago. It’s silly, really𑁋how one singular anonymous confession is enough to make you think and contemplate so hard. You’ve given advice to more people than you can count on your hands and toes, but this specific one feels as if it grew limbs, crawled out of the screen, and sat itself between you and him. 

“You rushed that ending,” Jun interrupts your thoughts as he swings his coat over his shoulders. 

You scoff lightly. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“I literally answered the question,” You shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s our job.”

“Exactly,” he hums in response, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his chin lazily in his palm. “You answered it like it was your first time ever hearing it.” 

A pause.

“When it’s not.”

It’s not. But why𑁋out of all goddamn times you’ve read the same exact fear𑁋did this one feel like someone jabbed a finger at your chest and said: here, this is yours? 

You force a laugh at that, letting out a deprecating shrug. “Maybe I’m just getting sentimental at my big age.” 

“You’re literally younger than me.”

“Only by a few months. Your argument is irrelevant, grandpa.”

Jun tilts his head at your words, pushing himself off the table and invading your personal space as always. He stands only a step away from you, observing the way you’re speedily packing your belongings like some kind of punishment. When you face back up at him, he gives a light flick to your forehead. His touch lingers for a few seconds, before he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It’s playful and casual, but the way your skin tingles after isn’t. 

Your heart does a stupid little flip in your chest. 

“Come on, youngling, I’ll drive you home,” he says with a cheesy smile, dangling his car keys off his finger. 

A groan leaves you as you allow him to drag you by the wrist and out of the studio. 

To be honest, the radio show started off as one big fat joke. 

It started in sophomore year of college, where you and Jun were nothing but a pair of dumb, broke college kids. Then you both decided to sign a quick gig for the campus radio station because you thought it would look good on your resumes. The two of you were supposed to do the boring music hour𑁋basically play whatever indie crap the station manager liked and read weather updates every morning. 

But that didn’t exactly go as planned, as the majority of those sessions were spent with you both roasting each other’s music tastes live on air, and for some reason, the listeners seemed to eat that dynamic up. 

In one particular session, Jun opened up the radio station email box live on air. You both expected for another complaint, which wasn’t uncommon knowing how immature the two of you act sometimes. However, it wasn’t a complaint this time.

It was a confession.

A girl had written about how she’d been in love with her roommate for the past two years and didn’t know how to voice it without ruining their lease together. Jun read it when his microphone was supposed to be switched off, and something in the studio shifted that night. 

“Do… we answer it?” Jun had asked you warily. 

You had hesitated for once, before a sudden surge of determination filled you. Perhaps it’s the delirium of two idiots who believed they could wing it, or the thought that a random person decided to reach out to both of you𑁋out of anyone else𑁋was the reason for the determination. Either way, you looked across at Jun that night and said, “Yeah. Let’s answer it.” 

And that was that. 

The rest of the semester became an absolute rollercoaster of love confessions, messy breakups, love bombers, situationships that made you want to pull your hair out, and the two of you slowly carving a name for yourselves as the unfiltered chaotic duo who gave sarcastic advice that came straight from the heart. The campus station extended their time slot, then the local radio station in the city picked the two of you up. 

Somewhere along the way, and four years later, Love On Air stopped being a joke and became a real thing you and Jun committed together every Saturday at midnight𑁋your own little pocket of chaos in an otherwise normal adult life. For the most part, at least, because pining for your best friend is totally counted as normal. 

Wen Junhui came into your life like a stray cat who decided that your doorstep looked comfortable enough to stay forever. Uninvited and unpredictable, way too pretty for his own good, yet somehow always exactly where you needed him to be. He randomly plopped down right next to you during freshman orientation, snatched the last macaron on your plate, and gave you a look that said you’d be fun to annoy for the next four years before introducing his name. 

You’d never admit how absolutely starstruck you were the first time he smiled at you. Or laughed. You told yourself you were just sleep deprived and lonely being in the city all by yourself, but deep down, the voice in your head at that moment said that you wanted to keep him. 

You should have been annoyed. But instead you laughed and nearly choked on your water, and that was it. Game over. And you became each other’s favourite person without either of you having to put a label on it. Best friend felt too small, and soulmate felt too big and scary for two broke college kids who couldn’t dedicate themselves to a single major. 

So you just… existed together. Thrived together. Grew together through the most stupidest decisions known to mankind. 

And at some point down the road, that stray cat curled up into your chest and refused to leave.

“Listeners, let’s give a full round of applause to user derangedcarat for cutting off their cheating ex-partner,” You announce into the microphone, clapping your hands like a proud mom at a recital. The chat explodes immediately. 

user: 👏👏👏👏 user: FINALLY i’m so proud of u user derangedcarat queen user: anyone who cheats on their partner needs to be put on death row user: ^^^ preach!!!

“And you did the hard part, user derangedcarat,” Jun adds in. “We love growth in this household. Maybe email us a screenshot of the block so we can frame it in the studio here.” 

“Exactly, and please don’t forget to take care of yourself,” You reassure into the microphone. “Block, delete, go touch some grass if you need to. You deserve someone who actually respects you.”

The next confessions run by in a blur over the next hour. Someone sends in a confession asking if it’s weird to still be hung on their high school ex, another person confesses that they’ve been naming their house plants after people who ghosted them, which the two of you undoubtedly praise for creativity. 

To top off the chaos, there’s one submission an anonymous user submits with screenshots of cringe-worthy flirty text messages from a man they’re talking to, with the sender begging for the two of you to rate the messages on a scale of “smooth operator” to “immediate block”.

Jun narrows his eyes toward the screen. “Y/N, listen to this: ‘hey babygirl, how’s your night been? mine was spent thinking about u 😏’. Sent at 2:19 in the morning, left on read for three days.” 

You burst out laughing, cheeks puffing out to the point it hurts. “Oh, my God. Solid negative five. That’s a biohazard right there.”

“That’s way too generous,” Jun snorts while spinning in his chair. “Anon, this man is serving nothing but expired milk. Please save yourself a headache and block his number.” 

Heartbreak, confessions, and ridiculous stories𑁋you and Jun tag-team them over the next hour like strong duo you are, with the chatting eating up every particularly brutal line that leaves either of your mouths. This is what seems to happen when you give two nocturnal people a cup of bitter tar coffee and the free will to say whatever they please. 

By the time the final minutes of the session comes, you and Jun decide to read out one last confession. 

“...Cat anon is back with a follow-up confession.”

You perk up curiously at that. “Really? What does it say?” 

Jun hesitates briefly, before clearing his throat. 

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air, Hi, it’s me again. The one who wrote the other week. Thank you both so much for responding to me. I listened to every word you guys said, and I think you’re right. I was almost brave the other night𑁋had this whole stupid mental speech planned to tell them when we were hanging out together. But I… chickened out. Again. Really dumb of me, I know.  And I know that I look like a coward who needs a weekly pep talk, but this show feels like the only safe space I’m able to confess this. I do have a question for the two of you to answer and discuss. Do you think there’s such a thing as ‘perfect love’?  I think that’s my dilemma right now. I want to be perfect for them. I want to give them that perfect love that they deserve. But how can I do that, knowing who I am? 🐱

The studio falls into a gentle kind of quiet after Jun finishes reading. The words are still processing deeply through your mind when he warily lifts his eyes back up at you, lingering on your concentrated expression. Then his heart stutters in his chest when you meet his eyes as if he got caught doing something wrong. 

“Jun, why don’t you answer it first?” 

Jun blinks, before shaking his head like he’s trying to clear away fog. He leans back in his chair and stretches his long arms up with a thoughtful sigh, enough for his hoodie to ride up just slightly for you to catch a sliver of skin. You try (and fail) not to notice, muting your microphone briefly to let out a cough into your hand. 

“I mean, ‘perfect’ love is that type of stuff you read about in books or watch in movies, right?” He shrugs, letting his arms fall back down as his chair creaks softly beneath him. “Like no miscommunication, no timing issues, no one being stupid… which already disqualifies most of humanity, honestly.” 

You lean back in to unmute your microphone. “Are you saying you’re part of that disqualification?” 

“Absolutely, I’m the poster child for it,” he claims with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “I constantly forget shit, I’m nocturnal as hell, and sometimes I make objectively terrible decisions. Who would want to date me?” 

The question lands a little too easily, maybe even familiar, sending an uncomfortable ripple you feel all the way down to your toes. Something about the way it left his mouth without any hesitation sends a painful grip to your heartstrings. Jun has always had this kind of self-deprecating humour, tossing it out like it was nothing at times. It makes you want to one: shake reality into him, or two: kiss him to prove him wrong. 

You force out an awkward laugh, higher than it needs to be. 

“Someone with terrible taste, clearly,” You answer, keeping your voice teasing despite the heaviness in your chest. “But luckily for you, the world is full of people with terrible taste.”

Jun chuckles, spinning his chair so he could study you properly. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head. “You think so?”

The chat is moving so fast now it’s basically a complete blur.

user: bro really asked who would date him while staring at his wife user: why is he so boyfriend coded still tho user: y/n should answer the question too!!! user: PERFECT LOVE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT EACH OTHER STOPPP RNN

“Chat is right,” Jun quips. “What’s your answer to the question too, Y/N?”

The second the question leaves him, you can feel every pair of invisible eyes staring at you through the screen and your pulse kicking up loudly in your ears. Jun is still leaning back in his chair, relaxed as ever, his curious gaze fixed solely on you. 

Finally, you clear your throat.

“Well, I’ve seen couples break up because their relationship isn’t ‘perfect’,” You begin. “But the ones that last? They’re the ones where both sides are a little flawed, a little messy, and a little scared, but they choose each other anyway. That’s what you would call an imperfect love, and… I think that’s the most beautiful kind of love that can exist.” 

Suddenly, the tiny studio feels almost suffocating to sit in. Your eyes flick up to Jun. He isn’t laughing anymore, or even smiling. He’s just staring at you with an expression so open𑁋almost surprised, like he didn’t expect you to be so serious𑁋it steals the rest of your answer out of your throat. 

You refuse to look at the chat; you already know what they’re saying.

“You really thought about it a lot, huh?” Jun asks, scratching at the back of his neck. 

You could only manage a small, somewhat self-conscious nod, bringing your eyes down to the ground. “Yeah. Guess I have.” 

A wave of silence washes over the studio for a minute.

“...it’s a really good answer,” he murmurs.

A pleased smile crosses over your face. “Well, I am kinda a professional at this.”

“Mm,” he hums absentmindedly in response. 

You pretend to busy yourself with your laptop, trying to read over the chat that has now morphed into just meaningless spams of screaming text and heart emojis. Your cursor lingers over nothing, while your heartbeat is running a full blown marathon of panic. 

But when you glance back at Jun, the panic seems to strengthen even more.

“Cat anon, we really appreciate your trust in us,” You finish softly. “And I really hope that our advice tonight resonates with you. At the end of day, we’re all just a bunch of flawed humans looking for love, right? Don’t drive yourself to be perfect, because you’re already perfectly imperfect just as you are. And if your best friend reciprocates these feelings…”

Your eyes flit back up to Jun.

“...then take the leap, because they’re probably already waiting for you.” 

After a pause, you lightly kick Jun’s foot underneath the table. He jolts in his seat like you shocked him, before recovering with a nervous, boyish chuckle, sounding not even close to his usual, bright and effortless laugh. For once, he appears almost rattled, with his pupils wide and his ears pink that even the dim studio lights can hardly hide. 

On the wall, the ON LIVE sign flickers in and out of its glow. 

“She’s, um… Y/N is right, cat anon,” Jun agrees quietly. “You don’t have to become someone else to prove yourself worthy for someone. If they’re your person, then… who you are already is why they stayed this long.” 

From that, the chat practically combusts.

user: WEN JUNHUI???? IS THERE SOMETHING U WANNA SHARE W THE CLASS??? user: why did this suddenly get so intense lmao is it hot in here or is it just me? user: i’ve been on this ship since the beginning of the show!!!!

“Alright, that’s all the time we have for tonight,” You interrupt quickly, instinctively switching back to host mode. “Thank you to everyone who sent in your confessions tonight. Stay safe, stay honest, and please don’t respond to someone who sends you a babygirl text at ungodly hours.”

Jun reaches for the switch. “Goodnight, everyone!”

Click. The ON LIVE sign dies. 

Jun slides the headphones off his head and shuts down his laptop. You do the same. The two of you pack up belongings in that familiar and companionable silence that always spills into the room after a session. When you swing your bag over your shoulder, Jun glances up in your direction worriedly.

“You okay?” he asks. 

You nod, offering him a small, sleepy smile. “Take me home?”

Jun swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Yeah.” He’s already opening the door for you. “Always.”

Jun remembers one of the first discussions the two of you had on the show together.

Love at first sight. 

Back then, the studio was smaller, scrappier, and the chairs squeaked each time either of you moved even a centimetre. The world had fallen asleep long enough that honesty slipped through the cracks of your voices so easily. You both were running on nothing but instant noodles and caffeine, way different than the semi-functional adult routine you have established now. 

He remembers the beautiful laugh that left you when the question came in halfway through a song neither of you remembered choosing. 

He laughed with you too. Rolled his eyes and called it nonsense, all while pretending to not notice how your smile had gone a little soft when you answered it with that amused lilt to your voice. 

“I think it exists,” You had said. “Not like movie magic, though. But… you just meet someone and your brain clicks into place, you know? Like it says, ‘Oh. It’s you.’”

“That sounds like you’re trying to make shit up to justify bad decisions,” Jun argued back with a smirk. 

You gasped at that and slapped his wrist, causing him to laugh. “Excuse me? That was uncalled for.” 

And the segment moved on after that. 

But Jun continues to carry that sentence with him like a permanent scar. 

Oh. It’s you.

“What are the chances that a confession we’ve read out is from someone we know?” Jun asks while plopping a chip in his mouth, adjusting his body from where he had been sprawled across your couch for the past few hours. 

You don’t bother to spare a glance up from your laptop, but a grin crosses your features. “Pretty high, to be honest. Soonyoung once told me he submitted something to the show one time.” 

Jun nearly chokes on the chip scratching at his throat. “Soonyoung? As in Kwon Soonyoung? Never shuts up, Soonyoung?” He sits up so fast he accidentally knicks his socked foot under the coffee table. “Ow! I𑁋What the hell did he confess? Was it about that girl in his dance class that was drooling over him?”

You finally look over at him, chuckling at the way his eyes have grown comically wide. “He didn’t say. Just that he sent it under a funny username and almost died when we read it out. Apparently, we just straight up told him to stop being a coward and talk to her. They went on one date together. He found out she was allergic to cats and broke her heart by saying they were incompatible. End of story.”

Jun stares at you for a full blown three seconds, before he throws his head back into the couch with a laugh so genuine you would think his soul left his body completely. 

“That’s insane,” he says breathlessly. “Literally the most Soonyoung thing to do. No wonder he’s still single.”

“Actually, he’s not,” You chime back in. “I think he’s dating this new girl named… Skye, I think?”

“Sky?”

“Skye, but with an e at the end.” 

“Wow,” Jun mutters, crunching down on another chip and sarcastically adds, “Character development. We love to see it.” 

You roll your eyes, shutting down your laptop with a click and leaning back into the couch with Jun right next to you. You curl your knees up to your chest. “People change, Jun. Miracles happen.” 

Jun offers you the bag of chips. You take one, crunching absentmindedly as your gaze travels somewhere past the TV, past the wall, past everything. He notices. Of course he does. A nudge to your leg awakens you quickly. 

“Where’d you go just now?” he asks.

“Nowhere.”

Jun huffs. “Liar.”

You flick a crumb at him. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he retorts with a lazy grin, sticking his tongue out.

You shoot a glare at him and snatch the bag of chips from his hand before he can react. A scandalised look splits his face as he lunges to grab it back from your grasp, but you manage to twist your body away and dodge his reach.

“Hey!” he exclaims, attempting to grab the back once more but you clutch it tightly to your chest. “Give that back to me!”

You yelp and scramble further into the arm of the couch, shoulders shaking with laughter as you hug the back tight enough to crush some of the chips inside. “You stole this from my pantry!”

When his fingers brush the corner of the bag, you only yank it away again. Jun narrows his eyes at you, lips twitching upwards like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Y/N.”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

“Junhui.”

“You’re being annoying on purpose.”

“And you love me for it,” You remark, sticking your tongue at him back mockingly.

That does it.

As he makes a dive for it again, you twist a little too far. The next thing you know, you’re collapsing back against the couch cushions with a soft oof, and Jun is falling down with you. Very much ungracefully.

Because one second he’s reaching, the next he finds himself tumbling down over you in a tangle of limbs and laughter, somehow managing to catch himself just beside your head before he can actually crush you into the couch. And he’s way too close.

His knee presses into the cushion in between your legs, while his hand is planted by the side of your head. His dark hair has fallen slightly into his eyes, and his breath comes out unevenly from the laughing.

Your own breathing isn’t exactly steady either. 

Jun looks down at you. You look back up at him. Your apartment suddenly feels fifty times smaller, and the laughter dies instantly, replaced by a familiar heaviness in the air whenever the two of you are alone together. His eyes drop down to your lips for a singular second before flicking back up to your face, and you catch the way his ears redden in slight guilt. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat. “Jun…”

And from that split second of vulnerability, he uses that opportunity to snatch the bag of chips right off your hands, catching you completely off-guard. The warmth in the air still lingers even as he pulls away from you and flops back down on the couch.

“Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly. “Victory is mine!”

You stare at him in disbelief before letting out the loudest, most offended noise imaginable as you smack his shoulder. 

“Wen Junhui!”

“Hm? Sorry, I can’t hear you over the savoury taste of victory,” he quips with a grin, face beaming with pride. 

“You’re such a little thief𑁋”

“You hesitated!” he argues smugly. “So that’s on you!”

“Because you were staring at me all weird!” 

That makes him shut up, the smugness fading off his face so abruptly as if you accidentally powered something in his system off. The apartment goes quiet enough for you to only hear the soft buzz of the refrigerator and the honk of a car outside. You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Or maybe you did, you don’t know. 

“I…” You utter weakly, trying to brush it away with a nervous chuckle. “Can we just pretend I spontaneously combusted instead?”

A soft, disbelieving laugh leaves him. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“For… looking at you all weird.”

“Jun𑁋”

“I think I’ll get going. It’s getting late,” he mutters, immediately standing up a little too fast. He grabs the bag of chips instinctively, realises it’s still in his hands, and sets it back down on your coffee table awkwardly. 

He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his hoodie and keys, moving with a surprising speed that even your own brain can barely process what to say. When he’s scrambling to the door, you move before you think, and you grab him by the wrist before he can unlock your door. 

Jun feels his pulse jump harder under your fingertips. Twisting himself back around, he’s met with your soft yet worried gaze, before flicking down to where your hand is still wrapped around his wrist. You release him immediately like you accidentally touched fire.

“Sorry,” You murmur, taking a small step back. “Just… text me when you get home, okay?” 

He nods solemnly. “Yeah. Of course.” A sheepish smile graces his lips for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jun.”

You close the door with a quiet click that somehow is louder than it should be. Now, you’re all alone in your apartment, yet the warmth of his presence still lingers through every part of your place. He’s been in here a thousand times𑁋hell, you both have slept in the same bed together a plentiful amount during all the times he’s trespassed in your space𑁋but tonight it feels like there’s a literal dent in the air itself. 

The two of you have shared many awkward moments together. He’s accidentally walked in on you changing a few times; you’ve seen him stress-eat an entire family-sized bag of shrimp chips at four in the morning. You both have seen each other at some of your lowest points, but why, out of all nights, does it hit harder than anything else?

You sink back into the couch with a groan. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. Then𑁋

Buzz.

[12:55am | menace (affectionate)] i just got home you okay?

You stare at his message for a long moment.

[12:57am | y/n] good and yeah, i’m fine. you?

[12:58am | menace (affectionate)] splendid! and … tired

[12:58am | y/n] go sleep then dumbass

[12:59am | menace (affectionate)] alright mother calm down i’m brushing my teeth

A low giggle leaves you at his response. A few minutes pass before a new text from him lights up your phone. 

[01:05am | menace (affectionate)] can i ask you something really random?

[01:05am | y/n] of course

The typing bubble appears, disappears, then reappears again.

[01:07am | menace (affectionate)] do you think cat anon is okay?

A sinking feeling opens a pit in your stomach, thumb frozen over your keyboard. You stare at the screen until the words begin to blur. God, of all the questions he had to ask tonight…

[01:10am | y/n] i don’t know i hope so and that they learn it’s okay to be brave

[01:12am | menace (affectionate)] yeah. me too

You’re hardly able to think when his next text comes in quicker than you expected.

[01:12am | menace (affectionate)] goodnight y/n don’t overthink in your sleep

You smile faintly.

[01:13am | y/n] no promises goodnight jun

You lock your phone after that with a tired sigh, tossing it onto the couch cushion besides you like it might bite you back if you hold it for too long. And somewhere on the other side of the city, another phone is tossed away like a shameful piece of evidence. 

As you stare blankly at your dark television and feel the exhaustion of the day weighing between your bones, you know that sleep won’t come easy tonight. It becomes even more challenging even after you brush your teeth, wash your face, doomscroll on your phone for a while, and face plant onto the bed like you just came home from a wounded battle. 

“Pathetic,” You mumble into your pillow to absolutely nobody. “I’m so pathetic.” 

On the other hand, Jun is… doing the exact same thing. 

His ceiling fan spins lazily overhead while his phone screen dims beside him. The last text message you sent to him spirals through the air around him. He doesn’t even know what to do but let out a muffled incredulous laugh into his pillow, sighs, before abruptly sitting up in bed and realising how much of a loser he’s acting right now. 

“I should’ve…” Jun groans, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve just told her… I’m such a coward.” 

Because the thing about running a late-night show where love is the main topic and advice is given, is that it’s painfully easy to tell strangers to be brave when your own heart isn’t on the line, when you’re not the aforementioned person in the story who is being pined over. It’s easy to take the leap when you aren’t standing at the edge yourself. Yet for some reason, it’s only harder to take the leap when you don’t even follow the advice you give to others. 

The irony is quite laughable, to be honest. 

Jun grabs his laptop and forces it open, the bright screen nearly blinding him in the darkness of his bedroom, but he doesn’t care. He finds himself navigating to his email, switching to his second account, and gets greeted by a particular message that had already been forwarded to the radio show. A message that had already been read, answered, and sent under a certain pseudonym.

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air…

Biting down on his bottom lip, he opens up a fresh draft and begins typing. 

“Take the leap, cat anon,” he repeats to himself over and over again. “Take the leap, Wen Junhui.” 

Jun texted you two hours before the show that he was sick along with a selfie of him buried in a hoodie he threw on, somehow contracting a stomach bug which he blamed on some expired convenience store gimbap. He insisted that he could still come in, yet you reassured him with a string of sobbing emojis that it’s probably in his best interest to stay home to rest, and that you could handle hosting the show on your own, even if… you’ve never really done it before. 

The show must go on, after all. 

So when you find yourself sitting alone within the quiet studio just mere minutes from going live, you definitely sense both the physical and mental emptiness of his presence in the room a little too sharply. His headphones are still left the way he always leaves them, and his chair is facing the wrong wrong because he spins in it so much that he never bothers to put it back properly. 

A small, fond chuckle leaves you at the thought of him, and you have to chase those thoughts away the second the clock strikes midnight. From there, you roll your shoulders back to shake away any residual nerves, clear your throat, and reach over to the switch. 

Taking one last deep breath, you flip it on. The ON LIVE sign sparks to life on the wall.

“Good evening to all our fellow lonely and emotionally volatile listeners,” You greet warmly into the microphone. “Welcome back to everyone’s favourite unhinged radio show, Love On Air, live at midnight every Saturday on FM 98.7.” 

Your eyes can barely keep track of the live chat box being spammed with incoming messages. You read a couple of messages out of people describing their day, but it isn’t long until the elephant in the room is acknowledged.

You snort lightly. “I regret to inform you all that Jun has passed away due to… alleged food poisoning.” Some comments following your words make you laugh. “Yes, yes, you’re all invited to the funeral, don’t worry.”

user: i commence a ritual to bring him back or we riot 🙏🙏 user: bro probably slept through his alarm honestly user: WAIT BUT THIS FEELS SO WRONG W/O HIM 😭😭 user: rip… guess no husband and wife arguments for now… 😔

“He offered to join while sick, by the way,” You add in quickly. “But I personally vetoed it. I’m not letting a man who ate expired gimbap shit his way into a session. He’s probably listening in right now, so hi, Jun. Hope you’re still intact, buddy.” 

After a few minutes of more interactions, you finally pull up the radio show’s inbox and begin to organise through the confessions that were received recently. That weird feeling creeps back up your spine once again as you scroll𑁋not about the confessions specifically, just the thought about doing this alone. Your eyes flick to the empty chair right next to you once more. 

You read a few confessions and answer two callers𑁋there’s one from someone who felt bad for ghosting someone they actually liked, another person confesses they’re having a hard time with their partner wanting to open up their relationship, and one with expressing their fears of having their first time with the wrong person. You offer your own thoughtful answers and advice as best as you can, yet it feels so lackluster and flat without Jun’s playful interjections whenever you get too sappy on air. 

“Your first time should be with someone who makes you feel safe, not just wanted,” You say gently into the microphone. “You deserve that. Don’t settle for anything less. It’s okay to wait until that safety feels undeniable.”

The chat floods with hearts and supportive messages. A few people send their thank yous for the advice. Some latecomers ask questions about Jun’s whereabouts.You smile gratefully, but it feels a little fragile tonight, not quite reaching up to your eyes. 

As the final music break of the session ends, you unmute your microphone to speak.

“Alright, listeners, we’ve reached the final thirty minutes of tonight’s session. I want to thank you as always for staying up and listening into the show,” You announce confidently. “We’ve got time for… maybe a few more confessions and a possible lucky caller, so let’s see what we have left.”

Scrolling silently through the inbox, it isn’t long until your cursor hovers a familiar username once again. Your heart spikes at the sight, hesitating for a slow second.”

“Everyone, let’s welcome cat anon back to the stage with another follow-up confession.” You click the confession, take in a deep breath you’re sure the viewers can hear, and start to read it aloud.

Dear Y/N of Love On Air… Hi, it’s me again. To be honest, I don’t really know why I keep sending these, but somehow I always end up back here again. You truly have a way of words, and I really want to thank you for that. I thought about what you said about imperfect love. I used to think that if I fix every flaw about myself, then maybe I’ll be worthy of them, but now I know that love is someone seeing every fractured version of you, and staying anyway. There’s something else I want to confess too. I think I’ve been waiting so long for the “perfect” moment that I accidentally passed a thousand “imperfect” ones. It makes me terrified that they’ll meet someone more braver than me, so I’ll use this chance now to be brave for once.  I’ll be ready on the line for this session and use this chance to finally face whatever happens next. I hope you’re able to answer my call whenever that may be. I have an important message to send. 🐱

Your voice comes out almost too quiet by the end you finish reading. You flit a quick glance to the ever-exploding live chat box.

user: HOLY SHITTT CAT ANON VOICE REVEAL??? user: answer the call! answer the call! user: IM GONNA THROW UP WHY AM I SO NERVOUS user: we’re witnessing a cinematic moment in history wtff

Suddenly, the blink of the call line makes your throat tighten. Your fingers hover over the console as if it might suddenly jump out and bite you. God, you don’t understand why you’re unexpectedly so nervous𑁋you’ve talked to many callers, and yet, speaking with cat anon has you on complete edge. 

“Okay,” You stammer shakily into the microphone, covering up your nerves with a faint smile. “Let’s… let’s take this final call of the night, everyone.”

When you answer the line, it’s as if the world goes entirely mute, except for the intense pounding your chest. Nothing but static fills your headphones as the line struggles to connect for a few torturous moments.

Then, a quiet breath reverberates into your ears. The kind of breath that sounded like it had to claw its way out of someone’s chest. 

“...hello?”

The voice is slightly distorted through the line, unmistakably low𑁋clearly a male voice𑁋and trembling slightly around the edges. It’s more of a whisper, if anything. Perhaps he’s just as nervous as you. 

“Hi,” You greet warmly, slipping back into your professional radio voice. “You’re live on air with Love On Air. Is this… the one and only cat anon?” 

A small, embarrassed huff of air crosses the line. He sounds a bit closer this time as he replies, “...yeah, it’s me.” 

“Well, I’m giving you the floor now,” You assure firmly. “Whatever you need to say… we’re listening.”

Another shaky breath crackles through the line. You can practically touch the contemplation that’s buzzing through the call with your fingertips if that’s even possible, and even within the studio itself. 

When the seconds of silence turn into a full-blown minute of consideration, the line crackles once more.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart stops. Your mind draws a complete and utter blank. The abrupt clarity of his voice cuts through any lingering distortion and static and hits you like a wave. The world itself feels as if it’s tilted on its axis. 

“Jun𑁋?”

“I love you,” he repeats more firmly this time, voice raw and full of everything he’s been holding back. “and I told you I was sick tonight because I couldn’t sit right next to you while you gave advice I was too scared to take. I just𑁋holy shit, I love you…”

Your mouth parts open in shock, then closes. The chat is going absolutely feral right now and you can barely read through all the comments without having this unusual urge to just slam your hand onto the console and pretend that you’re suffering from pure delirium. 

On the wall, the ON AIR still glows stubbornly. 

user: I FREAKING KNEW THAT CAT ANON WAS JUN user: may i find this kind of love one day what the helly 🙏 user: Y/N ARE YOU BREATHING RIGHT NOW ???? user: our stupid oblivious hosts are in love. I CALLED it

You feel as if you almost have to squeeze your voice just to get it out. “Jun…”

On the other hand, he inhales sharply.

“...yeah?”

“You’re such an idiot,” You sputter out. “Do you have any idea how… how insane this is? Confessing on our show… using a pseudonym I gave advice to𑁋”

“I know.”

“𑁋after lying about being sick𑁋”

“I know.”

“𑁋and letting me sit here and talk about love like you weren’t the one I was talking to the whole time?” You ramble on out of a sheer mix of pure disbelief and relief, tightening your grip on the microphone. “Like all the advice I said wasn’t about… us?” 

You hear some rapid shuffling on the other side, and you could almost imagine Jun sitting up in bed as if he’s received the most shocking news of his entire life. Then you hear his dazed laugh flowing into your ears.

“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “It was.”

Your breath catches embarrassingly hard and your face is completely on fire. The chat combusts once again, and you have to keep mentally reminding yourself that this entire interaction is live and half the city is probably listening in at this very second. 

“From the first moment I saw you back in college,” Jun continues softly. “My heart and brain did the thing, you know? That you said before𑁋where you meet someone and all you can think is: Oh, it’s you. The second I saw you, I just… I knew I wanted to keep seeing you.” 

You feel your eyes start to burn.

“I should’ve said it years ago, but I’m… I’m a coward. I know I am,” he mutters helplessly. “I know it’s stupid pretending to be cat anon because it was safer than telling my best friend I’m in love with her. Stupid that I… used to remind myself that I never deserved someone as bright as you. But anytime you told someone to suck it up and take the leap, I had to do it now or else I’d lose the chance and probably explode.”

He lets out a soft, breathless, disbelieving laugh of relief at the very end. Tears are streaming down your face at this point, but you don’t care. 

user: IM PASSING TISSUES DOES ANYONE ELSE NEED ONE??? user: jun confessing his undying devoted love to y/n life is worth living again!!!! user: i feel like a successful marriage counselor WTF user: the solomon paradox is REAL

“Gosh, you’re…” You wipe a tear from your eye, murmuring weakly, “Your timing really needs to be studied, Jun.” 

“Wait, wait, are you crying?” Jun asks worriedly in a fit of panic. “I didn’t mean to make you cry on air𑁋oh, my God, I can take it back, I can𑁋”

“You cannot ‘take this back’, you idiot!” You cut in immediately. “I’m crying because I’m in love with your stupid ass too! And if you don’t get here and finish the show with me, I’m absolutely going to lose the rest of my dignity.”

There’s a very long, suspicious beat of silence that passes. It’s enough to have you feel like you’re going through all the stages of grief in just a matter of seconds. And you swear on Jun’s life that if he doesn’t say something in the next minute, you might actually crash out and let the world witness your breakdown. 

But reality snaps back in when you hear the sound of him nearly tripping on the other end of the line. 

“I’m coming,” he reassures you. “I’m sprinting as fast as I can. Stay there for me, okay? Don’t finish the show without me.” 

The line goes dead.

The night is quietly young as you and Jun step back into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind to finally cut out the rest of the world.

You still can barely process what just happened. First, Jun had texted you that he was quite literally shitting bricks for the entire day (which was a lie, thank goodness), then you somehow managed to host an entire segment all on your own without losing your sanity, and now the man you’ve been secretly in love for years had confessed to you𑁋live on air, alongside an entire audience of fellow love drunk listeners𑁋and is currently standing directly in front of you, wearing a hoodie he probably put on right before sprinting to the studio and a pair of pyjama sweatpants.

Jun doesn’t waste a single second. He steps up close to you and carefully wraps his long arms around you, the comforting scent of him quickly filling all your senses. He lets his forehead rest against yours, the two of you shutting your eyes together as you simply bask in each other’s presence. 

“You’re real,” he murmurs, his hands trembling where they rest on your back. “I swear I thought I hallucinated the entire night. I need someone to pinch me if𑁋hey!”

You giggle at the way his face dramatically contorts with a pout, soothing his side with a gentle squeeze. You tilt your head enough to brush your nose against his. 

“Then kiss me like I’m real, you idiot.”

For a moment, he just blinks like you spoke complete gibberish. Then he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, sending immediate shivers that make your knees weak. You let out a soft sigh into his mouth as the kiss deepens ever so slightly, your hands slowly sliding up his chest. You feel him chuckle against your lips. 

As you kiss, you find yourself backing up in the direction of the couch. Jun follows without breaking contact with your mouth. When the backs of his knees hit the cushions, you both tumble down together in a clumsy, giggly heap with you on top of him, straddling him.

You brace your hands on his shoulders, and Jun’s arms lock around your waist instantly, holding you flush against him. And for a second, you both just… stare at each other. 

Jun is the first to break, his eyes flitting back and forth between your eyes and lips as he doesn’t know where to look. “What?”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide at how ridiculously cute and disheveled he looks right now, tilting your head at him like you’re pretending to study him. You lean in a little just to tease, and instinctively, he puckers his lips together, chasing after yours when you pull back away. 

“I can’t believe how stupid we are,” You whisper, brushing his lips briefly in a feather-light peck. “Giving advice to everyone but ourselves. We wasted literal years.” 

Jun chases after your mouth again, capturing it properly this time and pulling away with a satisfied hum. “Mhm. Absolute morons.” His hands find their way under your shirt, tenderly mapping the bare skin of your waist. “But I’m done wasting time now.” 

You chuckle into the next kiss, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably as he tries to deepen it. God, his lips are so eagerly soft, but he’s smiling so hard you momentarily knock your teeth against his.

“Mm, wait,” You mumble against his mouth as you draw back to readjust your position, causing him to suck in a breath. “Are you trying to eat my face? Where’s the technique?”

He blinks up at you dazedly, mouth parted in playful offense. His hands tighten around your waist. “I𑁋excuse me?”

“Zero finesse. One star. I expected more from cat anon.”

Jun sits up suddenly so that you’re basically pressed chest-to-chest with each other. 

“You’re too cute, that’s the problem,” he says, voice deep yet still a little rough around the edges. “How am I supposed to kiss you if I short-circuit and all I could think, holy shit, she’s mine?” 

Your heart does a stupid little flip from his words. “Flattery won’t save your shitty technique.”

“Oh, yeah?” He cups your face with both hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Watch this.” 

The next kiss is messier𑁋heated, giggly, and clumsy because you both can’t stop smiling. You feel your toes curl as he nips lightly at your bottom lip. You sigh into it, threading your hands through his hair, the heat of it enough to make you rock your hips against his growing hardness. 

You feel the heat dancing up your skin and pooling into your belly as you continue your lazy grinding against him, swallowing down the broken sigh and groans that fall out of his mouth. When his mouth begins its descent down your jaw and to a particular sensitive spot behind your ear, he smirks against your warm skin. 

“Fuck𑁋you like that?” he breathes out, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast underneath your shirt. 

A shaky laugh leaves you, but it melts quickly into a soft moan when his thumb brushes your already-hardened nipple. “Don’t get cocky. Still𑁋mmh𑁋mediocre at best.”

Jun lifts his brow, mouth curved into a stupidly fond grin. “Mediocrity, huh?” He pinches your nipple gently, causing you to jerk your hips into his. “Your body is saying something different, baby.”

“Ignore her. She’s… a traitor,” You croak out, grinding against the hard line of his cock through his sweatpants. 

Jun merely chuckles, tugging your shirt up enough to expose your chest. He unclips your bra without any hesitation, pushing the straps off your shoulders then letting it fall uselessly to the floor. His eyes widen as he takes a few seconds to drink you in completely.

“God, you’re so beautiful…” 

Then his mouth is back on you. He sucks one nipple between his lips while his hand affectionately palms the other. A crude moan slips out of you this time; it heightens his confidence even more. 

As his mouth lavishes attention to your other breast, he drags his hand down your side, teasingly sliding under the waistband of your pants to cup you over your pants. He can feel how warm you are already. 

“Rating?” he requests with a firm suck. 

“Like a solid𑁋shit𑁋two-point-five out of five…”

Jun pulls off your breast with a wet pop, grin turning wicked. “But you’re soaked, and you’re still calling me below average? I think your pussy disagrees.”

You open your mouth to retort, but then he slides his hand into your panties, fingers circling over your slick folds, and nothing but a breathy gasp escapes you. Your hips roll down to meet his hand as he inserts a finger inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your back arch and he has to use his other hand to hold you in place. 

“What’s the rating now?” he asks, watching the way your face is beautifully twisting with pleasure as a second finger slides inside. 

You shoot him a death glare as you clench around his hand. “Three𑁋fuck, right there𑁋three-point-eight𑁋”

“Getting better already,” he hums in approval, leaning back down to worship your breasts once more. The dual sensation has your head falling down into the crook of his neck, your moans caressing his skin.

“Four𑁋Jun, you asshole𑁋four-point-five𑁋”

He pulls his fingers out of you unexpectedly, making you whine at the loss. Before you can complain, you find yourself being flipped on the couch as he settles in between your thighs, looking up at you with that mischievous, hungry, adoring look. He gives another tug to the waistband of your pants.

“Final rating before I eat you out?” 

Your chest heaves, though you try to keep your tone light and teasing. “Four-point-seven. Don’t get lazy down there or I’m docking points, smartass.”

Jun’s eyes sparkle with challenge as he helps you out of the rest of your clothes. When you’re fully bare in front of him, he spreads your thighs even further, letting his mouth hover tantalisingly where you need him most.

“Four-point-seven,” he repeats to himself, pressing a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. “I can work with that. Watch me get that perfect five.” 

Then he leans in and drags his tongue up your soaked pussy in one long stripe, a groan leaving him as he tastes you for the first time. Your hips jolt against his face, a sharp moan tumbling out of you and bouncing off the walls of your quiet apartment.

“Oh𑁋Jun𑁋”

“Hmm?” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth, eyes flicking up to watch your face. Two fingers slide back inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your vision glassy. “God, you taste even better than I imagined…”

You slap a hand over your mouth as the pleasure starts to bloom its way out of you, but he reaches up and pulls it away, lacing your fingers together.

“Don’t do that, please,” he murmurs against your pussy. “Let me hear you, baby…”

The way he eats you out has your head spinning. It’s dizzying, a little messy, and entirely devoted to you. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers echo and your moans and gasps travel throughout the room, only making him double down even harder to bring you over the edge.

“Five𑁋five stars𑁋ah, please𑁋”

You cum with a cry of his name, the pleasure crashing into you in waves. He continues to lazily lap at you before you start trying to push his head away, the two of you giggling breathlessly in the aftermath.

When he pulls away, his lips are shiny and he looks foolishly pleased with himself. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls his way back up your body, meeting you for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought that this absolute klutz of a man just gave you the best orgasm of your life sends another shaky giggle rolling out of you. 

“You okay?” he breathes against your mouth, chuckling softly of you barely controlling your laughter.

You run a hand over down your warm face. “I… what the hell just happened?”

“That was me letting go after holding back for years,” he answers without diffidence, tracing soothing circles over your bare thigh. “Do I get a final rating now?”

“Hmm, solid five-point-five. An extra half point for your enthusiasm and those cute noises you made down there.” You run your fingers through his messy hair, making him lean into your touch like a baby kitten. “But I’ll let you try for a six if you fuck me right now.”

Jun’s eyes darken instantly. “Say less.”

The two of you battle over taking off the rest of his clothes. Jun attempts to smoothly yank his hoodie off in one go, but it gets snug on something, causing him to laugh when it gets caught on his shoulders.

“Oh, my God𑁋stay still so I can take it off, you dummy!” You exclaim in frustration. 

“Help me then, smartass!” His laughter is muffled into the fabric. 

When you finally unsnag the hoodie and toss it somewhere on the floor, you both immediately reach for his pants at the same time, elbows bumping into each other. Rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his hand away so you can push it down his hips with borderline desperation. He kicks it off the rest of the way, his boxers following quickly.

The second he’s fully bare in front of you for the first time, he cages you into the couch right above you, littering soft kisses over your flushed cheeks. His cock rests heavily against your stomach as he stares down at you, chest rising and falling heavily.

“Hi,” he whispers stupidly, like he’s just remembered how to speak.

“Hi,” You reply with a bashful smile, reaching up to cradle his face, pinching his cheeks together. “Still waiting for my six-star performance.”

“Give me a break, I’m nervous!” he gasps defensively, grinding the underside of his dick along your slickness unconsciously. “I’ve only pictured this every single night for, like, the past four years!”

“Poor baby,” You coo impishly, reaching down to stroke him softly. “You’ve been jerking off to the thought of me for four years?”

Jun whines needily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Stop bullying me when I’m trying hard not to embarrass myself right now.”

“Then embarrass yourself. I’ve waited just as long, you idiot,” You urge, bringing him closer until there’s physically no more space between your bodies. 

With a sly smirk, he reaches down, lines himself up with you, and slowly pushes inside. He groans lowly as he sinks inside you until his hips are pressed against yours. For a second, he doesn’t move at all, only trembling with his forehead leaning onto yours. 

“Oh fuck𑁋I think I died a little,” he grunts pitifully into your neck. “You’re so warm. And tight. Think I-I short-circuited again.”

You give his shoulder a tight squeeze. “Move, Jun. Please.”

He obeys right away, thrusting into you experimentally and drawing a collective moan out from both of you. When he snaps himself into you again, again, and again, he sets a slow, deep rhythm that has the couch creaking softly beneath you.

“Shit, Jun𑁋” Your nails rake down his back as he hits that spot perfectly inside you again and again, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You… You feel so good.” 

“Yeah? You look so pretty falling apart on my cock, baby,” he praises heavily, voice sounding absolutely wrecked. “Still rating me? Am I passing?”

Your laugh dissolves into a moan when a particular thrust punches the air out of your lungs. 

“You’re at…” You bite down harshly on your bottom lip, glancing down to where you’re joined together. “Five-point… seven𑁋shit, keep going like that, I’m so close…”

“I’m so close too, not gonna last,” he pants, his breath molten on your neck. “God, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You grab him by the nape of his neck to collapse his mouth back onto yours, swallowing all his desperate little grunts and sighs as the kiss turns heated fast. His rhythm stutters for the briefest second before he regains himself swiftly, the wet slap of your bodies meeting over and over again flooding the room, with your own hips rolling to meet with each of his thrusts. 

The heat of it all invades through all your nerves, that familiar coil tightening in your belly. The rating game is completely out of the window now. There’s only nothing but the drag of his cock kissing your walls and this thumb dipping in between your legs to caress your clit, encouraging you to let go.

When your orgasm finally crashes, it’s much more intense than the last. Your nails imprint sharp crescents down his back as one final broken cry rips out from your throat, stars bursting behind your ears. Your walls squeeze around him so tightly he curses, the drive of his hips faltering sloppily. 

“Baby, I can’t𑁋I’m gonna𑁋where𑁋?” 

“Inside,” You beg gravelly, wrapping your arms around him even tighter. “Lose yourself in me, Jun, please.”

That’s all it takes for his own orgasm to hit him. With one final thrust, he spills inside of you with a deep, guttural groan. His face drops into the crook of your sweaty neck as shaky little whimpers continue to leave him𑁋your name, I love you, fuck I love you𑁋repeatedly until he’s completely spent and melted into your arms. 

For a few moments of stillness, the only sounds travelling throughout the room is your ragged breathing and the sudden hum of your refrigerator. Eventually, Jun lifts his head from where it’s been resting comfortably on your chest. His dark hair is sticking out in all sorts of places, a few strands even matted to his forehead. And his eyes are half-lidded, yet so soft and full of love that you almost want to sob.

“So…” he starts hoarsely, kissing the tip of your nose. “Final rating?”

You let out a tired, contented laugh, brushing damp strands of his hair off his face.

“Mmmh… six-point-five,” You decide sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

A bright, boyish grin unleashes across his face. “I’ll take it. Room for improvement for the next round.”

“I𑁋next round?!”

“I aim to achieve ten stars. Or maybe more than that.”

“God, you’re so insatiable,” You groan, shaking your head despite the smile breaking through your expression. “Later on, maybe… for now, I just want to hold you.”

Jun swears he feels himself literally melt into a puddle at that, because how could he ever deny a request like that from you? Despite the little space on your creaky couch, he pulls out of you with a wince, grabs the throw blanket that has unknowingly dropped to the floor before shifting himself more deeper into your arms. The soft fabric wraps around your bare bodies together in a warm, messy nest, one of his legs slotting in between your legs. 

“Better?” he mumbles hopefully, letting his eyes fall to a close so he could listen to your heartbeat.

“Mhm. Much,” You hum in response, nosing through his hair. “I love you, you menace.”

You feel his lips meet the soft skin above your breast, right over your heartbeat.

“I love you too, dummy.”

Remember that stray cat that landed on your doorstep at the very beginning and refused to leave?

Yeah, he’s right where he wants to be now.

perm taglist (open) ʚɞ

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*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

“Why are you in my studio?”

Yoongi didn’t even look up from his laptop as he spoke. His voice came out flat, mildly annoyed, entirely unsurprised.

Behind him, the door shut.

“Wow,” you said. “No hello? No wow, you look beautiful today? No thank you for bringing food?”

“I didn’t ask you to bring food.”

“You literally texted me and said, and I quote, ‘I forgot to eat.’”

“That’s not asking.”

“You’re impossible.”

You set two takeout bags down beside him anyway.

Yoongi finally glanced up.

And paused.

You were wearing one of those oversized sweaters again. Cream colored. Sleeves too long. Hair slightly messy from the rain outside. Your cheeks pink from the cold.

Pretty.

Dangerously pretty.

He looked away immediately.

“You got rained on,” he muttered.

“Observant.”

“You’ll get sick.”

“You sound like my grandmother.”

“Tch.”

But he was already reaching behind him for the spare towel he kept in the studio for late nights.

Without a word, he tossed it toward you.

You caught it with a grin.

“There he is,” you teased softly. “Soft Yoongi.”

“There’s no soft Yoongi.”

“You gave me your towel.”

“You’re dripping on my floor.”

“Mhm.”

You smiled while drying your hair.

Yoongi ignored the strange warmth settling in his chest at the sight.

Because this—this was normal.

You’d been in his life for nearly three years now. Friends through circumstance first, then through inevitability. Introduced by Hoseok at some gathering Yoongi barely remembered. You’d laughed at one of his dry comments instead of getting intimidated by him, and somehow that had been the beginning.

After that, you just… stayed.

You showed up at the studio with coffee.

You bullied him into eating actual meals.

You sat quietly on the couch during his producing sessions, reading books or scrolling on your phone while he worked through dawn.

You learned his silences instead of fearing them.

And Yoongi—

Yoongi let you.

That alone should have told him something.

But loving you felt too natural to notice.

Like breathing.

“You know,” Namjoon said carefully one evening, “normal friends don’t memorize each other’s coffee orders from six different cafés.”

Yoongi blinked slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“You know her order everywhere.”

“She likes consistency.”

“You bought her a winter coat because she said she was cold one time.”

“She refused to buy one herself.”

“You flew across the world and came back with skincare because she mentioned wanting to try it.”

“She couldn’t get it here.”

Namjoon stared at him.

Yoongi stared back.

Finally Namjoon sighed.

“You are genuinely unbelievable.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with her.”

Yoongi scoffed immediately.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yoongi.”

“She’s my friend.”

“You look at her like she invented happiness.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and stood from the couch.

“Don’t start.”

Namjoon watched him walk toward the kitchen.

“Okay,” he said lightly. “Then if she started dating someone tomorrow, you’d be completely fine?”

Yoongi stopped moving.

Just for a second.

A tiny second.

But Namjoon noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Yoongi recovered quickly, opening the fridge with unnecessary force.

“She can date whoever she wants.”

“Mhm.”

“She deserves someone good.”

“Mhm.”

“She deserves someone who makes her happy.”

Namjoon almost looked sympathetic.

“And that someone isn’t you?”

Yoongi frowned like the answer was obvious.

“No.”

Because in Yoongi’s mind, love wasn’t soft.

Love was consuming.

Demanding.

Temporary.

People left. People changed. People hurt each other even when they didn’t mean to.

But you—

You laughed when he got grumpy.

You fell asleep on his couch while waiting for him to finish work.

You trusted him with every vulnerable piece of yourself without hesitation.

And Yoongi protected that trust with brutal devotion.

Why would he ruin it by wanting more?

So no.

He wasn’t in love with you.

He just cared about you more than himself.

That was different.

…Wasn’t it?

You were halfway asleep on his couch when Yoongi draped a blanket over you.

Your eyes fluttered open immediately.

“There you are,” you mumbled sleepily.

His chest tightened.

Dangerous.

Always dangerous.

“You should go home,” he said quietly.

“You’ve been working for fourteen hours.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that every time.”

You pushed yourself upright, blanket slipping down your shoulder.

Yoongi’s eyes caught on the bare skin there before he could stop himself.

Pretty.

Pretty pretty pretty.

God.

“You didn’t eat much,” you murmured.

“I ate.”

“Half a sandwich.”

“It counts.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

Then your expression softened in that way that always undid him completely.

“You work too hard.”

Yoongi looked away first.

Because that look—

That unbearably tender look—

It always made him feel exposed somehow.

“I like working.”

“You also like pretending you’re not human.”

“Tch.”

You smiled faintly before patting the spot beside you on the couch.

“Come sit for a minute.”

“I’m busy.”

“Five minutes.”

“You’re bossy.”

“And yet here you are.”

He should’ve gone back to work.

Instead, he sat.

The moment he did, you leaned sideways until your head rested against his shoulder naturally, like you belonged there.

Like you’d done it a thousand times.

Yoongi went very still.

Your hair smelled like your shampoo.

Your body was warm against his.

And something deep in his chest settled immediately.

Home.

The thought appeared so suddenly it startled him.

Home.

You sighed softly.

“Comfortable?”

“…Mhm.”

“You’re warm.”

“You’re cold all the time.”

“You say that like it’s my fault.”

“It probably is.”

You laughed quietly.

Yoongi closed his eyes for just a moment.

This was dangerous too.

Not because it hurt.

But because it didn’t.

Being close to you felt frighteningly easy.

Like he’d spent his whole life unconsciously making room for you before you’d even arrived.

The first crack in his denial came because of another man.

Which was embarrassing, honestly.

Yoongi was not a jealous person by nature.

Possessive occasionally, maybe.

Protective absolutely.

But jealous?

No.

Until he walked into a restaurant one evening and saw you smiling across the table at someone he didn’t know.

The man was handsome.

Young.

Well-dressed.

Leaning toward you with obvious interest.

Yoongi stopped walking.

Something ugly twisted low in his stomach.

Hot.

Sharp.

Wrong.

You looked up then, immediately brightening.

“Yoongi!”

Your entire face lit up.

And somehow that only made it worse.

You waved him over enthusiastically.

“Come here!”

Yoongi approached slowly.

Too slowly.

The stranger stood politely, offering his hand.

“Hey, I’m Minjae.”

Yoongi shook it once.

Brief.

Cold.

“This is Yoongi,” you told the man cheerfully. “My favorite person.”

Favorite person.

The ugly feeling eased instantly.

Then returned twice as hard when Minjae smiled at you.

“I can see why,” he said.

Yoongi sat down beside you before he could think about it.

Close enough that your knees brushed.

Territorial.

The realization should’ve alarmed him.

Instead it just felt necessary.

You, oblivious as always, happily explained.

“Minjae and I met through a friend!”

“Mhm,” Yoongi replied flatly.

“We’ve been talking for a few weeks.”

Something unpleasant crawled beneath his skin.

“A few weeks.”

“Yeah!”

Minjae glanced between the two of you.

There was a strange look on his face suddenly.

Careful.

Observant.

“You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was famous,” he said lightly.

You choked on your drink.

Yoongi froze.

“My what?”

“Boyfriend,” Minjae repeated.

“We’re not dating,” you said immediately.

Too quickly.

Why did that bother him?

Minjae looked unconvinced.

Then amused.

“Oh.”

Yoongi spent the rest of dinner in a mood foul enough that even you noticed.

On the walk home, you finally nudged his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You hated him.”

“I didn’t hate him.”

“You glared at him like he insulted your bloodline.”

“He talked too much.”

You gasped dramatically.

“The irony.”

“Tch.”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his again.

Yoongi glanced down at you.

Streetlights painted your face gold.

Your nose was pink from the cold.

You looked happy.

Happy.

And suddenly the idea of someone else making you happy felt unbearable.

The realization hit him so hard he physically stopped walking.

You turned immediately.

“Yoongi?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

He was in love with you.

Not a little.

Not maybe.

Hopelessly.

Devastatingly.

Completely.

And apparently everyone else on earth had known before him.

“Wow,” Jungkook said after Yoongi finally confessed during drinks one night. “That took you an insanely long time.”

Yoongi glared.

Jimin looked deeply entertained.

“You literally carry snacks for her in your bag.”

“Because she forgets to eat.”

“You stopped smoking as much because she worried.”

Yoongi frowned.

“She looked sad.”

Taehyung barked out a laugh.

“You bought an entire couch because she said your old one hurt her back.”

“It did hurt her back.”

Hoseok looked like he was trying not to scream.

“Yoongi,” he said carefully. “You are the most in love person I’ve ever met.”

The worst part?

Yoongi genuinely hadn’t realized.

Because every instinct he had regarding you happened automatically.

Holding umbrellas over your head.

Walking on the outside of sidewalks.

Saving the last bite of food for you.

Calling to make sure you got home safe.

Listening when you were upset.

Remembering every tiny detail about you like his brain had decided you were essential information.

Loving you had become muscle memory.

Something built directly into him.

How was he supposed to notice something that felt as natural as breathing?

“Are you gonna tell her?” Namjoon asked.

Yoongi immediately looked horrified.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Because if he said it out loud, things would change.

And the thought terrified him.

What if you pulled away?

What if you became careful around him?

What if he lost this?

Lost you?

No.

Absolutely not.

He’d rather love you silently forever than risk you disappearing from his life entirely.

Unfortunately, being aware of his feelings now made him catastrophically worse at hiding them.

You noticed first.

Because of course you did.

“Why are you acting weird?” you asked one evening.

“I’m not.”

“You just handed me your credit card because I said I wanted ice cream.”

“You were already going to the store.”

“You looked offended when the cashier flirted with me.”

“He was annoying.”

“You called me beautiful.”

Yoongi nearly walked directly into a wall.

You stared at him suspiciously.

His ears burned.

“…Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

“You never call me beautiful.”

Because if he started, he’d never stop.

Because beautiful wasn’t enough anymore.

You were devastating.

Extraordinary.

Beloved.

But he couldn’t say those things.

So instead he muttered, “You are beautiful.”

Your expression softened instantly.

And Yoongi’s stupid heart nearly beat itself to death.

“You’re sweet,” you said quietly.

Sweet.

If only you knew.

The breaking point came seven months later.

You were crying.

And Yoongi hated when you cried.

Hated it in a visceral, violent way.

You sat curled into the corner of his couch while rain hammered against the windows outside.

“He said I’m hard to love.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

The man you’d dated briefly after Minjae.

The idiot.

“He’s wrong,” Yoongi said immediately.

You laughed bitterly.

“Yoongi.”

“He’s wrong.”

“You don’t have to—”

“He’s wrong.”

Your eyes lifted to his.

And something inside Yoongi cracked wide open at the sight of your pain.

“You are the easiest person in the world to love.”

Silence.

The room went still.

You stared at him.

Yoongi stared back.

His pulse thundered.

Because there it was.

The truth.

Raw and exposed between you.

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Easy?”

Yoongi swallowed hard.

“When you’re tired, I know exactly how you take your tea because I’ve memorized it.” His voice was rough now. Honest in a way it had never been before. “When something good happens, you’re the first person I want to tell. I hear songs and wonder if you’d like them. I see things you’d laugh at and save them for you automatically.”

Your eyes started watering again.

But differently this time.

“I don’t know when it happened,” Yoongi admitted quietly. “I think maybe it was always happening.”

His chest hurt.

God, it hurt.

“Loving you became so normal to me I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

You looked shattered by the confession.

Yoongi forced himself to continue anyway.

“I’m in love with you,” he said softly. “I’ve probably been in love with you for a long time.”

The room stayed silent.

Then you whispered the words that nearly killed him.

“You idiot.”

Yoongi blinked.

“What?”

You surged forward suddenly, grabbing his face with both hands.

“You absolute idiot,” you repeated tearfully. “I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

And then you kissed him.

Yoongi made a broken sound against your mouth immediately.

Relief.

Shock.

Love.

Years and years of restrained affection collapsing at once.

His hands found your waist instinctively, pulling you closer like he physically couldn’t bear distance anymore.

You kissed him like you already knew him intimately.

Like this was inevitable.

Like home.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard.

Yoongi rested his forehead against yours.

“You love me?” he asked quietly.

You looked at him with something unbearably tender.

“Yoongi,” you whispered, “you’ve loved me for years.”

He laughed softly then.

A little disbelieving.

A little overwhelmed.

Because maybe you were right.

Maybe every cup of coffee.

Every late-night phone call.

Every careful act of devotion.

Every instinct to protect you, comfort you, keep you close—

Maybe that had always been love.

He just hadn’t known there was a name for it.

You brushed your thumb gently beneath his eye.

“So?” you murmured. “What happens now?”

Yoongi looked at you.

Really looked at you.

At the woman who had quietly become the center of his life without him even realizing.

Then he kissed you once more.

Slow.

Certain.

Adoring.

And for the first time in years, Min Yoongi answered without hesitation.

*End of February/March*

The music playing softly through the jukebox was something from the eighties, older than many of the patrons occupying the diner, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. In fact, it was one of his favorites to listen to as he enjoyed his dinner. The soft rock filtering through the semi quiet restaurant, the murmurs of conversations from those around him drowned out.

Some getting off work late like he had, needing a late night dinner, some on dates, or the night owls that couldn’t sleep but couldn’t stay home either. It didn’t matter to him why any of them were there, because to them it didn’t matter why he was there.

“Want a refill?” Mingyu asked, stopping in front of him, jutting his chin at the half empty glass while balancing a few plates in his hands. His brows wet with sweat from the kitchen and running around the place. Seungcheol glanced up from his burger to give his friend a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol nodded, popping a fry into his mouth, and the taller man gave him a quick smile before hurrying off to serve food. The door chimed with someone either coming or going, but Seungcheol didn’t bother to check, choosing to watch Seokmin work effortlessly to cook the meals being ordered.

He didn’t even spare a glance when he heard the barstool next to him scraping against the floor, or at the person occupying it. Too tired to look anywhere else but forward.

“Hey. What are we having tonight?” Mingyu’s voice spoke up, grabbing Seungcheol’s glass to refill the soda.

“Just a burger and fries. No tomatoes.” The person spoke up, a voice that he didn’t recognize and he glanced toward the source. “Just water.”

“On it,” Mingyu nodded, setting the refilled soda in front of him. Slapping the pass while calling out her order, then grabbed a few more plates ready to be served. “Be right back with your water.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol reached for his drink, finding himself observing the new face. You.

He hadn’t seen you before. In a town the size of Diamond Ridge,Seungcheol pretty much knew everyone. Hell, most the people in the diner he grew up around, so you stuck out to him. Your hair loose around your face, and clothes that looked like they were swallowing you up. You weren’t looking around, you were looking down at diner counter, a faraway look in your eyes.

You looked lost.

“You okay?” Seungcheol found himself asking, your gaze snapping to him. Eyes wide in surprise that someone was speaking to you, not expecting anyone to talk to you. Let alone ask you if you were okay.

“Oh, uh, yeah…yeah.” You answered nodding quickly, and it was cute the way you turned away before turning back, “Its…just I just moved here, and I’ve only really spoken to Mr. Kim. He’s my new landlord.”

“So, you’re the one who took the apartment above this place.” Seungcheol mused, taking a drink of the carbonated drink. Setting the glass down, he wiped his hands onto a crumbled napkin before offering it you. “Welcome to Diamond Ridge. Seungcheol.”

He watched as your gaze drop to his hand, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Now it’s your turn to take him in, moving from his hand back to his face then back. Contemplating taking it.

There wasn’t anything off about him in his opinion. A pair of dirty steel toed work boots, jeans well-worn and covered in dirt with his dark blue flannel matching. His short dyed blond hair a mess on his head. He felt he was also an okay looking guy, his face more tired than serious in that moment.

He just looked like a guy who got off a long shift and just wanted a hot meal.

Finally you took his hand, a firm but delicate grip with your palm warm against his. Almost too warm.

“Y/N.” You answer softly, letting go of his hand just as quick as you took it.

“Y/N.” Seungcheol said slow, feeling each syllable on his tongue. He nodded, giving you a friendly smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” You answer as Seokmin called out that more orders were ready. Mingyu then appeared in front of the two of you, setting down your water down before turning to the pass where the food was waiting.

“Yours is up next.” Mingyu let you know grabbing the plates. Seungcheol didn’t realize that it had gotten busier since he came in, his focus now on the new face next to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim.” You tell him, giving him a polite nod and he stopped in front of you for a moment.

“I told you, just call me Mingyu.” He playfully scolded, then was back out on the floor to serve. Seungcheol had gone back to the last of his food, but he glancing toward you.

You also sent a few his way while you waited, neither of you said anything further. You focused on not being noticed, despite being the most noticeable thing there. An unfamiliar face in a room of familiar ones, which he could only imagine how nerve wracking that was. To be a stranger.

“Ready to pay, Cheol?” Mingyu stopped in front of him moments later, and the older man nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin. Standing, Seungcheol pulled his wallet out to get enough to cover his and your meal.

“For both our meals.” Hearing this, you whipped your head toward him, ready to protest, but he was already starting toward the door, “Keep the change as a tip, Gyu. Have a great night, Y/N.”

You knew being someone new to such a small town was going to get you attention, but that didn’t mean you were used to the stares. The looks that followed you wherever you went, ranging from pure curiosity to caution to straight suspicion.

Everyone seemed to know each other, with so many growing up together. So, they were able to greet each other by name, talk with each other like old friends, while asking for your name was a foreign phrase to them. It would lead to questions that you weren’t ready to answer, and you could feel the judgement in their eyes when you avoided those questions.

You weren’t sure if you were the one making yourself an outsider or if the town’s people made you feel that way. It was not your intention to, nor could it have been for just the ones curious.

There were several friendly faces that made you feel welcome and didn’t ask too many questions. Mingyu and Seokmin were nice to you, with the taller happily hiring you on as a waitress. There was only two, and a third was desperately needed. Diamond Ridgewas a pretty small town, but Kim’s Diner was a popular spot. Even during the slowest times of the day, there was always someone in a booth eating.

Then there was the man who paid for your meal one night. Seungcheol. His gaze curious, but it didn’t feel like the way everyone else in town looked at you. He didn’t ask anything further than if you were okay, and he paid for your meal when he didn’t have to. The kindness he showed you made you feel more welcome than so many of others, and it made you want to return it to him as well.

But you hadn’t seen him again since.

For a moment, you thought maybe he’d been part of your imagination, a hallucination since you’d been sleep deprived that night. Unable to get sleep with your mind racing and your cat Max meowing through the studio apartment. The chubby tabby was still getting used to the new living arrangements, but he found the acoustics of the place made him happy.

But he wasn’t part of your imagination, with Mingyu confirming that you weren’t hallucinating. He was a very real person. Though you still had your doubts, since you hadn’t seen him since that night, with only your memory to go off of and you were too nervous to ask any of the locals about him. Nor could you ask your boss or any of your coworkers.

You were friendly with them, but you weren’t friends, nor comfortable enough to ask or talk to them about anything more than surface level. Though you probably should have in hindsight.

The fact the local bar was named Cheers made you giggle, thinking about the show with the same bar name when you walked into it. It was a hole in the wall that was found in the heart of Diamond Ridge’s main square, tucked just enough away that it took the sign out front to find it.

The inside was bigger than what you expected, walking toward the bar while taking in your surroundings. It was a slower night, with maybe five people there, and that was counting the bartender. Two were off at the pool tables, chatting and laughing, while the rest were sitting at the bar. None of them paying you a single mind, other than the bartender. He was a shorter man, with jet black hair that reached just past the nape of his neck, and a muscular frame under a fitted shirt. His sharp eyes zeroing in on you as he approached, his face neutral and didn’t give away if he recognized you or even cared. 

“What can I get you?” He asked, throwing a white towel over his shoulder, leaning against the bar patiently waiting for your order.

“Uh, I’ll take an old fashion,” You answer, and he made quick work on your drink.

“Starting a tab, or paying now?” He wasn’t even looking at you when asking.

“Tab?” It’s then he looked up at you, his brow raised, and it was then you realized your words sounded unsure. You coughed into your fist, clearing your throat to speak again, “Sorry, I’ll start a tab.”

“Name?” The bartender placed the drink in front of you, before looking at you expectantly.

“Y/N.”

“Just let me know if you want anything else.” Then he walked away, leaving you to your drink.

With glass in hand, you scanned the near empty bar for somewhere to sit, not particularly interested sitting at the counter. There was several tables and a few booths through it with a set of pool tables in the back corner and already being occupied by two men. Picking one of the booths, you sat to nurse your drink. 

It was another night that you didn’t want to be home, even with Max cuddling and the television playing something to keep the place filled with noise. You didn’t like it, you weren’t used to it, and you weren’t sure if you could get used to it. It didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t…wouldn’t go back so you had to eventually. For now, you’d just find things to occupy yourself until that happened.

You barely touch your drink, kind of regretting choosing it instead of something else, but it was the only thing you could think of. Then again, you never were much of a drinker, and you drove here. You needed to drive home, so what were you even thinking getting a drink? Taking another slow sip, you scrunch your nose at the taste, licking your lips in hopes to find something other than the taste of alcohol. You didn’t.

Laughter from over at the pool tables drew your attention in that direction and the two men playing a game. One was lean with long dark hair that was pulled back, giving way to one of the prettiest faces you’d ever seen, while the other’s back was to you. This man had short dyed blond hair, spiked up, but you couldn’t see his face. He was in a simple pair of black jeans and a black tank that showed off thick shoulders and arms. You catch sight of the top of a tattoo between his shoulder blades, and something over his shoulder.

You couldn’t make out what the words said, you weren’t close enough nor did you want to look like you’re staring. Only before you could look away, the pretty one’s eyes flicked to you and the smile he had quickly turned into a smirk. Catching you looking at his friend.

He then leaned forward to say something to his friend, making him look over his shoulder to you. The look on your face had to be a funny one, since the pretty one had burst out laughing while the other held your gaze.

Was… was that Seungcheol?

You’d only seen him one night at the diner, and the lighting hadn’t been the best, so you couldn’t remember him exactly. You only could remember his dark eyes, the curiosity and kindness that had resonated with you. That and the way his hand felt when you shook it. Strong, calloused, and warm. So warm it felt like it could burn you if you held on too long.

Breaking the contact, you looked down to notice the ice had melted in your drink, the hand holding it cold and wet from condensation. Now wishing that you just paid for it rather than opening a tab, to make an easy escape. 

“Y/N, right?” You hadn’t realized you were approached, let alone it being him who had. It must’ve been apparent when you looked up toward him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open which earned a chuckle from him. It was Seungcheol, smiling at you and that was when you noticed he had dimples.

“Ye…yeah! Seungcheol?” You finally answer now that your brain caught up with you and to the man standing before you. Leaning slightly on the pool stick he was holding, and your eyes landed on his arms. They were thick, strong looking, like the rest of his body. A body well taken care of, but also from years of hard work.

“He is, in fact,” The pretty man spoke up next to you, making you nearly jump out of your skin, not seeing him slip into the booth with you. Sticking out a slender hand, the pretty man’s tried to conceal his smirk behind a welcoming smile, “Jeonghan.”

You stare at his hand before taking it to give a brief shake, saying your name despite him already hearing it, but Jeonghan held on. Eyes studying you carefully, from the way your hair was done to the clothes you were wearing. A pair of baggy acid wash jeans that was barely being held up by a belt, a white thermal shirt under a larger shirt. An old, faded band one, well-loved with holes through it and was too big for your body.

Jeonghan then nodded, like he was approving of something only he knew, finally letting go of your hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve been quite the talk of the town.” He observed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and chuckled, “Which I take you aren’t too fond of.”

“I don’t think anyone would like to find themselves at the center of gossip.” You pointed out, and he let out another chuckle. Nodding in agreement.

“You have me there,” Jeonghan then shot a look toward Seungcheol, then back to you, “Now, we can’t have you sitting here drinking alone. How about you come drink with us, play some pool. Have fun with some friends.”

“I just met you.” This made Seungcheol laugh, while the other man looked surprised at your comeback.

“More the reason to join,” he pressed, slipping out of the booth and offer his hand to you. A friendly gesture, a chance to not be alone for a change. Your gaze then moved to Seungcheol, who looked like he was about to start pouting that his friend offered this. Not him.

It was… it was kind of cute.

“I don’t know how to play pool, but I’ll hang out,” You agree, the words directed toward Jeonghan while you kept your gaze on Seungcheol. Grabbing your glass, you get out of the booth, ignoring Jeonghan’s out reached hand. It was noticed by both men.

“After you.” The pretty man gestured to follow Seungcheol, which you did, clutching your watered down drink in the process.

“You finish stalling now? Or are you ready to have your ass kicked?” Seungcheol asked Jeonghan, picking up a beer that was left at the pool table.

“I wasn’t stalling. Just wanted an audience to watch me win,” The other man teased, grabbing his pool stick and gave you a teasing wink. The gesture makes you roll your eyes, finding a stool to sit on. Seungcheol took a swig of his beer before sitting it next to you.

“Watch this for me?” He asked, dark eyes sliding over your face and made your cheeks feel warm. You give him a small nod, earning a gummy smile, “Knew I could count on you.”

As they played, the conversation flowed with the two men making sure to include you. Explaining who the people being mentioned were, providing a little background to a few jokes. They also asked you different things as well. Surface questions, like when your birthday was, if you had pets, and how you were adjusting to small town life.

That game ended in a draw and lead to several more, with both men earning a win under their belt each. You had another drink while they had several more beers. Enjoying their company, the way they made you feel included. Not a stranger, but a longtime friend.

That was until the question came up.

“So, what brought you to Diamond Ridge?” It was Jeonghan who asked, lining up his shot that would win him the game, and it made you physically stiffened. Your back straighter, the smile on your face now an uncomfortable frown. Jeonghan didn’t notice but Seungcheol did.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol spoke up, his words coming out like a warning, watching you push your tongue out to wet your bottom lip and attempt to relax your body. The question had been on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but very few tried to asked. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The only person who knew anything had been Mingyu, and that was only to get him to agree to rent to you. He too had been weary of you when you first walked into his diner. Tired from driving hours from the city, lost, hungry, and desperate for a place for you and your cat to rest.

There was a loud crack as Jeonghan took his shot, the sound of the cue ball hitting the eight ball perfectly and pocketing it easily. Winning the game. Straightening himself back up, he looked at you both with a triumphant grin on his face and a shrug to his shoulder.

“It’s just an honest question. It’s not like we’d judge her.” He defended his reasoning, and while what he said may be true, it didn’t mean you were comfortable enough to share it yet. Let alone in a bar. “The last time we had anyone new move here was Joshua and his mom in high school. Can’t blame us for being curious.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Seungcheol told you, arms crossed and the grip on the pool stick tightening. It was hard to not stare at the way his muscled bulged doing this, while you shifted in your seat. You knew you didn’t have to answer, but his assurance did help.

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his head tilted, studying something you couldn’t see, before his focus was mostly on Seungcheol. The corner of his lips turned up, a flash of something go across his own dark eyes, before giving him a nod.

“I see.” That was all he said before setting the pool stick onto the table to saunter passed his friend and you, “I am going for a smoke and see if I can flirt some free drinks out of Jihoon over there. You two want to join?”

“I don’t smoke,” You shake your head.

“I quit remember,” Seungcheol answered at the same time, then let out a scoff, “And good luck with the flirting. He’ll just charge you double.”

“Price to pay to see him get all cute and flustered.” The pretty man joked, leaving the two of you alone at the tables.

A pregnant silence followed.

“I’m sorry that he asked that.”

“Don’t be,” You say him waving him off, slightly wishing that your empty glass still had alcohol in it. “I don’t blame him or anyone else wanting to ask… I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Seungcheol said calmly, finishing what was left of his beer. Setting it with the growing collection of empty bottles, he caught the way your eyes went to his arms before back to his face. Making his already red flushed skin brighten, gesturing toward the pool table. “You want to play?”

“I don’t know how to,” You repeat what you had said earlier when Jeonghan had invited you to play, and this earned a chuckle from the blond man.

“I’m not that good myself, but it’s pretty straightforward,” He then went on to give you a quick lesson on the game. Explaining the rules. You would either be solid or stripes and needed to get them all pocketed before putting in the black eight ball using a white cue ball and a pool stick. It sounded easy enough. Grabbing the stick that Jeonghan had been used, he offered it to you.

“Thank you for the offer, but…” You went to decline, only to stop when your gaze went from the pool stick to his face, finding that his bottom lip started to jut out in a pout. You managed to stop the laugh that wanted to escape you, but not the smile that graced your lips. He really was pouting over this.

Something inside you told you to take him up, and for once, you listened.

“You know what,” Standing from your seat, you took the stick he was offering. “One game.”

“That’s my girl.” He said softly, setting up the table so you could start a game, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you stood there paying attention to what he was doing, letting him teach you. Once ready, he gestured toward the table, “You first.”

“Me?” You asked with wide eyes. He nodded his head as you shook yours, “I think you should start, so I can see what I should do.”

“You been watching us all night,” Despite this, Seungcheol didn’t argue further and positioned his stick with the cue ball. “Just got to make sure you’re lined up just right, and…” the stick hit the cue, breaking the triangle of balls at the end of the table. He straightens up as they ricocheted around, even pocketing a couple, “the game is started. Your turn.”

With a deep breath, you moved into position, trying to mimic what he had just shown you. Lining up the stick with the cue ball, but when you went to hit it you missed.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, and Seungcheol laughed softly.

“Your postures wrong. Here try again,” He encouraged, and you did as you were told. What you weren’t expecting was Seungcheol leaning over you, one hand placed gently on your elbow and his other helping you adjust your stance. His chest was slightly pressed against your back as he leaned closer, his mouth close to your ear. “You stand like this. Your eyes should be leveled, so you can get a good look at your shot.”

You were listening, but you could also feel your brain suddenly stop working at the smell of his perfume hitting your nostrils, or how his hot breath hit your ear. It made your own breath catch in your throat feeling his warm body encase yours, something that he clearly heard by the way he froze but didn’t let go. When he turned his head to look at you, you took the chance to hit the cue.

The cracking of the ball hitting another echoed, and you took the chance to move from him as a solid one dropped into one of the pockets. Barely able to register it with your skin feeling hot, tingling from his warm breath against it.

“Looks like you’re solids,” Seungcheol mumbled out, his attention staying on the table, but you could see that the red tint of his skin was now deeper. Taking a deep breath, he took his turn, “That makes me stripes.”

Neither of you got close like that again as the game played on, with Jeonghan returning with three more drinks that he tried to claim was free. Taking your original seat, he wasn’t watching the game you were playing, he was watching the two of you. Easily picking up the way you were acting. 

You were talking and laughing like nothing happened, but the lingering glances you kept doing made it pretty obvious that something was there.

“Last call!” Jihoon called out right as Seungcheol landed the winning shot, sinking the eight-ball easily. You hadn’t realized it was so late nor had you intended to stay out this long.

“Good game.” Seungcheol stuck his hand that you took to shake, making eye contact with him in the process. His eyes darkened with something unspoken, as if he was still thinking about that moment earlier, his hand gently squeezing yours. This time you didn’t let your body betray you and kept wearing a friendly smile.

“Same here.” You answer. It was then that you two realized that Jeonghan had disappeared. “Where did…”

“He does that. I got to give it to him, he stayed longer than he usually does.” The blond answered, taking your pool stick to put away. Taking this chance, you looked back around the now empty bar, with only you, Seungcheol, and the bartender named Jihoon left. Who had been staring you both down since yelling last call minutes earlier.

When you went to close your tab, you found it had already been paid for, and your other drinks had been placed on Seungcheol’s.

“No, let me pay!” You tell him when he pulled out his wallet to pay, digging through your jean pockets for yours. “It’s only fair since you paid for my dinner the other night.”

“You don’t owe me for that, and you don’t owe me for this,” He said simply, already handing several bills to the shorter man. Jihoon then gave you both a nod, his way of saying goodnight you guess, and went to close the tab. You went to protest, your own lip jutting out in a pout, and this made Seungcheol let out a laugh. Leading you out of the bar, you were met with the cool, dewy air and an empty street.

The still cold night sent a shiver through you, going from a warm bar to this that not even your thermal was able to help like you hoped. Seungcheol, now covered in a black leather jacket, took notice and attempted to take it off to give to you.

“No, I’m okay. I will just blast the heater when I get into my car.” You shake your head, and he slowly pulled it back over his shoulder.

“Let me walk you to your car at least.” He didn’t give you the opportunity to decline though, directing you in the direction the only two vehicles on the street. Your little black  Buick, and his old white Chevy truck. “You good to drive home?”

“I’ll be okay. How about you?” You ask, stopping next to the driver side of your car, watching the way Seungcheol slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His own gaze on you.

“Yeah, it takes more than the weak ass beer that Jihoon gets in to make a difference.” He nodded, neither of you making any moves to leave.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For dinner the other night, the drinks tonight and hanging out, and… for walking me to my car.” You manage to stutter out, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the cold air hitting your face. This earned a smile from him, a gummy one that made his eyes crinkle, and the dimples on his cheeks deepened.

The smile made him look younger, almost boyish, making you want to keep seeing it. Keep having it in your direction.

“Anytime.” His gaze stayed on you for moments longer, his grin softening before he nods his head to you. “Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

*April*

 If there is one thing about a small town like Diamond Ridge, it’s how easily word can spread even when you don’t want it to. Rumors and gossip can be shaped with each exchange of ‘what so and so said or seen’ and become almost its own being and farthest from the truth. Even if it was a complete misunderstanding, or something that was misinterpreted by nosey eyes.

Being shown how to play pool and then being walked to your car after is a good example.

You still weren’t used to the way people would stare or whisper around you, but you had learned to tune it out. Ignore whatever story they have spun about you, why you moved to the town, how you dressed or kept to yourself. It was easier than to let yourself listen or even try to defend yourself with things you weren’t comfortable to give away.

You didn’t need them to look at you with suspicion and pity. If they even cared to show pity.

When you worked, you kept a friendly smile on your face, ignoring the stares that the patrons would provide you as you served them. You kept a friendly smile as some of them would request another server or Mingyu to help them instead of you. You taught yourself how to not take it all to heart, to not think about it, hoping that if you kept your head down enough it would all stop.

That was until Mingyu had come to you with concern.

“There you are,” He sounded relieved when he stepped foot out of the diner to find you out there. You were sitting on the steps that lead to your apartment, your focus on way the trees around the diner were full of leaves and flowers, while watching the way the birds flew from each branch. Singing a song that only they could understand. “Seokmin told me you went on break but weren’t in your hiding spot in the kitchen.”

“It’s a nice day out. I figured getting some fresh air would be nice.” You answer him, a smile gracing your lips as you enjoyed the view of the trees that stretched far behind the diner. You hadn’t dared to venture into them yet, but you wondered how easy it would be to get ‘lost’ in them. To let nature surround you instead of people. Then you noticed the look of concern on his face, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way, not sure how to broach the subject. “I really don’t know how to talk to you about this.”

“Did I mess up on someone’s order?” It was a reasonable thing to ask, you had been busier than usual that morning and at one point it felt like a blur. By the time your break came around, you couldn’t stay in the stuffy diner, not even in the little walk in fridge that you had claimed as a small hiding spot.

“No, your service has been great, everyone who I spoke to admits that you’re good at your job,” He shook his head before taking a seat next to you on the steps. He runs his hand through his dark hair, “But there has been… concerns.”

“Concerns?” You repeat flatly, the smile on your face dropping. “What kind of concerns?”

“Someone saw you getting cozy with Seungcheol at the bar the other night and leave with him after it closed.” He answered after a moment, still sounding unsure at his approach. You could only blink. “Did you?”

“I went to the bar, yeah, but I was not cozying up to anyone. Seungcheol and his friend Jeonghan invited me to drink with them instead of alone and play some pool. Then he walked me to my car after the bar closed, he went home and I came back here. That’s it, nothing happened.” You tell him honestly, your hands slowly closing into fists. Trying to figure out who could have made that up, then again, you couldn’t put it past anyone here in town. “Besides, what’s the concern over it anyways?”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, most of the people asking for a different server… are couples…” Mingyu said slowly, and you blinked confused. You didn’t exactly notice what kind of people were requesting to not be served by you, but thinking back to it all, it was mostly couples asking. The women being the ones requesting it, and it started to make sense about what their looks of disgust meant.

You had been so used to ignoring and not acknowledging them that it didn’t occur to you what was happening. You started to rack your brain and started to pay attention to the mumblings, the whispers, and you remembered why you learned to ignore it.

“I didn’t even try to think about it… I mean it’s not like he’s…” The words died on your lips, already sounding unsure and full of the annoyance that was starting to build in your chest. Mingyu didn’t answer, he just watched you with a pitied look that said to use your head. “Seungcheol… isn’t single.”

“They’re not anything official yet, but he has been seen around town with her more often than not. So, yeah.” Mingyu could see the way your eyes dimmed, and the frown on your face deepening. “I take it that you didn’t know.”

“No, because I don’t go around asking people if they are taken. I didn’t even actively seek him out, I was invited to hang out with them as a friend.” Your voice continued to not come out the way you wanted, with it coming out higher than you would like and probably sounded pathetic to Mingyu.

“Hey, I believe you,” Your boss said with a sigh, reaching over and patting your knee, “Cheol is a nice guy, and he’d give you the shirt off his own back if needed. Hell, this town knows him, but they just don’t know you… or your intentions.”

“My intentions is to live my life without bullshit,” You snap, swallowing back the sting of angry tears. “My intentions is to not think about my mom or my life back in the city. Not be labeled as some harlot.”

“I know. Trust me, I know better than most here how cruel these people can be.” His voice was quieter when he said this, the same hand patting your knee squeezed. “But don’t stop doing what you been doing. Keep your head high and just ignore the talk.” He then stands and turns to you with a crooked smile, showing off a long canine, “They’re all just bored bastards anyways. It won’t be long until they are bored over this and onto the next target.”

“Can’t they already be done with it,” You sigh, knowing that by the look on his face that your break was over and he was waiting for you to come with him. Standing, you smoothed out your light pink dress uniform before following him in.

“One can only wish,” Mingyu chuckled, opening the back door for you.

You didn’t expect to run into Seungcheol again so soon, or at the post office of all places. You were already in line to get stamps when he stepped into it behind you, holding a piece of mail he was sending off, and there was a shift in the air. His eyes moving to your back while you continued to look forward, clutching your wallet to your chest, counting to see how many people were in front of you.

Four. With one elderly clerk that was working at a snail’s pace.

Why was this post office so busy for a small town? And why did it have to be right then?

“We’re going to be here a while. Mr. Han likes to take his time on top of already being slow moving,” You could hear him say to you quietly, but you didn’t look back to him. Instead you took a slow inhale through your nose before licking your lips, trying your best to ignore him. Last thing you wanted was more fuel to the fire that rumor created. Then he spoke again, “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Of course, you are,” You muttered to yourself, but he heard it. Though it wasn’t like you didn’t mean for him to though.

“I am sorry.” He said again, and you were happy that he couldn’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course, he is. They always are when they’re caught, even if they aren’t the ones getting the shit end of it all. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues. We didn’t like that you were drinking alone and wanted to make friends.”

“Friends… yeah, that’s totally what ended up happening,” You let out a scoff, but you knew that he wasn’t the one who started or twisted the rumor and it included him. You felt bad for that, but he was the one who had gotten close to you, the one who sought you out with his friend, he was the one who didn’t tell you that he was seeing someone. Whether he had meant to or not, you were the punished one. 

“Y/N.” That was when you turned to look at him, trying to keep your features neutral unlike his. His thick brows knitted tight, with a deep frown playing over his features, his dark eyes swirling with annoyance and hurt. You knew it wasn’t exactly directed toward you, but you didn’t factor it out. The one thing you were certain that was directed toward you was the underlying concern in them.

The clerk finally called the next person, and you turned to shuffle forward.

“I’m serious.” He said softly, but you didn’t bother looking back again and kept your eyes forward. Your fingers tightening around your wallet and cardigan. “Is there a way I can make this up to you?”

You didn’t answer him, ignoring him rather than engaging any further with him. It didn’t matter if he tried to make up for this, it would only make things worse. Any interactions you had up until this point had been soured since Mingyu came to you, and any after now. Which sucked because you liked being around him, but maybe it was better this way.

Seungcheol must have gotten the hint because he stopped trying to talk to you and stood behind you with a heavy wave of frustration radiating off him. It made you shift on your feet uncomfortably, wondering if anyone else here could feel it, but you refused to look back. You didn’t want to give him more of a chance to talk to you, nor did you want to see the look on his face.

After another ten agonizing minutes, it was finally your turn to get your stamps and left without giving Seungcheol another glance. The only time you looked over your shoulder was once you were out of the small post office, catching him through the window, talking to the elderly clerk with a wide smile.

Disappointment heavy on your shoulders that you still wished to be a subject of that smile despite it all.

After watching you drive away that night, Seungcheol sat in his truck until he had no other choice but to drive home. His eyes stayed on the empty space where your old Buick had been, and where he had said goodnight to you. With his mind replaying that night over and over.

“Isn’t that the new girl?” He remembered Jeonghan asking this, his eyes flicking past him and made him look over his shoulder. To see you sitting alone in one of the booths, your wide eyes on him with a look of surprise. It actually nearly made him smile with how cute you were looking. Then Jeonghan had burst into laughter right when you looked down to your drink. “She’s been checking you out, and she’s all alone too. Go talk to her.”

While the other man ended up taking over, leaning heavily into being a wingman when he shouldn’t have, Seungcheol was happy that he did approach you. If he hadn’t, he doubt he would get to see that you were more than just shy and to yourself. You were sweet, funny, with a warm smile and a giggle that made him willing to do anything just to keep them in his direction. To learn more about you.

He hadn’t liked that Jeonghan had made you uncomfortable with his questions, stepping in to stop it from going any further. He remembered that you looked grateful when he had, that someone’s in your corner and didn’t want to trap you in it. It made him feel good to see this, with it being a while since he felt this way over someone.

Leaning his face into his hand, Seungcheol could still smell the sweetness of either your perfume or shampoo when he was showing you how to play pool. He could still hear the soft hitch in your breath when he had leaned over you to help you, something he had done plenty of times in the past, but there was something about being in your space, smelling how sweet you were, and your reaction that made it feel different for him.

He wasn’t sure about the stirring in his chest as he continued to sit and think about you. Your style, the way you were yourself, how beautiful and attractive he thought you were. All of this was dangerous to him. He was a man who had things planned out already, working hard to have the home he always wanted, to be able to live without naught, and already had someone in mind to share that life with.

And here you are, coming in and making him question if he really was right with choosing to pursue Danni. If maybe he had gotten it wrong after all.

No, it was just because you were new. A new face in a sea of faces that he would see every day, you were fresh and something he wasn’t used to. He hoped that this feeling would fade, and once it does, you could be a good friend for him. Except that still didn’t stop him from thinking about you the entire drive home.

That was as far as this town would allow him to get before it made the choice for him.

Words and rumors in this town spread like wildfire, so really this was no different. Whoever was at the bar that night had to of only seen the two of you playing pool and taken it wrong because neither of you were cozied up with each other. Hell, Jeonghan was hanging off him more and being all cozy with him, so one needed to be a dumb mother fucker to confuse his and your height and build. Or so drunk that they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between their asshole and a hole in the ground.

For Seungcheol, the most he had to face was the wrath of Danni since he didn’t give a single shit what anyone else said in this town. Their opinions didn’t affect how he was treated by them, nor did it effect his business since he wasn’t the actual target. You were.

You were the one who was facing the towns judgement and distrust. All because a drunken fool wanted to run their mouth.

When he saw you again, he couldn’t blame you for the way you acted toward him. Refusing to give him the time of day, walking away from him when all he wanted was to make things right, choosing to protect yourself instead of letting him in. Except he couldn’t deny that it still hurt, to watch you build a wall before he could even find solid ground. So much so it soured his mood for the rest of the day, and it was felt all around.

He didn’t like that this emotion was being pulled out of him because of you as well. He didn’t like that he barely knew you and you already took over his thoughts and emotions.

The next time he saw you was a nearly a week later at the diner. You were working that night, busy with several tables that you hadn’t noticed him coming in. Or the woman at his side, with her hand resting possessively on his bicep as her own eyes looked around, but your back turned when she looked your way. She was making it quite obvious that she was looking for someone.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling started to build inside, a turning in his stomach as it slowly dawned on him what was happening here. Danni had been insistent that they go out that night, have a bit of a date night. Movie and a late night dinner at the diner was what she wanted, and well, he wanted to give it to her.  She was who he had intended to spend his life with, so he wanted to give her anything she wanted.

Except, he started to think that she didn’t actually want to come here for a late dinner date or sit through that shitty movie she chose. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from you, smiling and laughing with a set of teenagers you were serving, to look toward Danni. Who had caught sight of you… and the empty table in your section.

“There is a free table right there, Cheollie,” The sugary sweet tone she was putting on was aggravating to him, now that he realized the real reason they were there. Danni acted like she didn’t notice as she pulled him to the booth, her grip on his arm tightened.

He almost didn’t go with her, let her drag him to the empty booth, instead wanting to drag her out of the diner. Demand what she was trying to accomplish by bringing him there while you’re working and tell her how childish she was acting when you had made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Except he knew this was a test for him too.

Both her and the people watching them looking for anything to make things worse. And if he failed, you would be the one to blame.

Seungcheol didn’t care what they thought with him, he never did. He did care what judgement they had toward you, without you even knowing what you were being judged further for. Not when all you were doing was trying to find your place in this town that only had a small few welcoming you.

Slipping into the booth, Danni made sure to sit on the side that faced where you were checking on another table, receiving glares instead of a response. A smirk stretched over her pink glossed lips, flipping her long sleek hair over her shoulder before reaching out for him. A gesture that Seungcheol didn’t return, with his jaw still set tight, a frown gracing his features, and crossed arms.

She knew that he was pissed, she knew that he was onto her, but the way her eyes kept flicking over his shoulder told him she didn’t care. She was making a statement, and one that she was not going to like the outcome of.

“Good evening! My name is Y/N, I will be your server tonight.” You spoke up, stopping in front of the table, a bright smile playing over your lips. Except Seungcheol could see that it didn’t meet your eyes, and that you were refusing to look at him more than you needed to. Setting the menus down in front of them both, you pulled out your notepad to take their drink orders, “Should we get started with some drinks while you decide?”

“That would be so lovely!” Danni responded to you with her own smile, only hers was more menacing while she looked you over. Sizing you up from what it looks like, “I’ll take a sweet, iced tea, easy on the ice.” You nodded, writing down it down. Still not looking at him, “What about you Cheollie?”

“I’ll have the root beer, and we can order our meals now. We know what we want,” He said flatly, making you look up at him in surprise. Catching the way his eyes flashed toward Danni, his annoyance nearly palpable among the three of you. “I’ll take the number seven, medium well patty and cheese. I’ll also have the fries instead of the potato salad.”

“Coming right up, and for you Miss?” You nodded, writing down his order quickly and looked to Danni, who had been watching the two of you. Trying to catch you two in some act right in front of her. She was really pissing him off doing this.

“I’ll take number ten, the clam chowder, and could you ask Seokmin to put the oyster crackers in the soup for me instead of on the side? Thank you so much.” She rattled off quickly, almost too quickly and you nearly missed her added request.

“Alright, so I have the number seven with a medium well patty, cheese, and fries instead of the potato salad. Along with a root beer for you.” You repeated calmly, not showing that Danni’s antics was phasing you, barely looking up from your notepad. “And for you the number ten, with the oyster crackers in the soup and not on the side. As well as the sweet, iced tea with easy ice and forgive me, did you want the lemon on the side or in the drink?”

“On the side.” Seungcheol watched with brief satisfaction as Danni’s lip curled in annoyance, her voice not sickening sweet as it was. With another nod, you give both of them a smile.

“I’ll get that put in now and be back with your drinks in a moment.” And with that, you walked away to put in the ticket. Seungcheol didn’t dare look your way, not when he was being watched by others around them. Danni instead was practically breaking her neck to watch you go.

“Ugh, I can’t stand her.” Danni scoffed in disgust, twisting back in her seat and crossing her arms like a brat, the jingle of her bracelets could be heard over the chatter around them. She didn’t seem to notice or care that Seungcheol was staring her down pissed. “Can she be anymore pretentious? Acting like she’s better than me.”

“She was just doing her job, and you don’t even know her,” Seungcheol snapped, making her look at him, her golden brown eyes staring him down. “How many times do I have to tell you that nothing happened? We invited her to play pool and drink with us. You and the rest of this god forsaken town make it seem like we fucked on the pool table.”

“Seungcheol!” She gasped, looking around as if she was making sure no one heard him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s impolite and immature.”

“And what you were just doing wasn’t?” He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low enough that it stayed between them both. His eyes stared her down, watching the way she shrunk slightly before straightening up. A frown playing over her pretty face.

“Listen, all I am doing is make sure she knows I exist and think next time she even wants to look twice at you,” There was so much conviction in her voice, with an eye roll that would back it up. “Let her know that you got someone prettier, more put together, and doesn’t look like they pulled their clothes out of a dumpster. Not some unwelcomed slut.”

“Danni, that’s enough.” Seungcheol could feel his anger started to get the better of him, his eyes piercing through someone he thought he could fall in love with and have a life with. You didn’t even give him the time of day, and here she was tearing you apart like you both were still making eyes at each other. “You don’t talk about her like that, and you sure as hell won’t call her names. I don’t give a shit what that makes you think of me, but you aren’t going to punish her for no damn reason.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Here is your drinks,” Mingyu spoke up, setting down both glasses along with a straw each, this made the couple look at him in confusion. You were their server, “Y/N needed to go on break, so I will be taking over your table. Your food will be ready soon.”

Seungcheol snapped his face toward Danni, who was fighting the triumphant grin threatening to break through. He sure as hell hoped it was actually your break and not because you heard what she had said. But from the frown on Mingyu’s face, the sickening turn in his stomach, and how you didn’t return as their server once back, that was the case.

It made him unable to eat his meal. Everything feeling so wrong and cruel, and he unable get out of his head the way you wouldn’t look his way at all. 

Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Danni when he dropped her off to her place, not even acknowledging the kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth. His eyes still forward, with his blood running hot, and his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Failing to not appear as tense as he was.

“Call me later, baby. Goodnight.” Danni called out before closing the door, either oblivious of his anger or she simply did not care. To her, she won that night.

Once he was she got in, Seungcheol put the truck into drive and pressed on the gas. His tires squealed against the asphalt as he u-turned on the quiet street, followed by a roar of his engine as he sped off.

He needed to clear his head. Needed to rethink everything.

The sky darker than usual, rain clouds starting to gather as he sped through the empty roads. Passed the mixture of houses and thick trees, passed the dirt road that lead to his own place, and into the small quiet town. He did no clearing of the mind as he drove, the streets starting to grow dark except for a few streetlights, and the porch lights of the houses in town. It was late, people were sleeping and probably being woken by the sound of his truck.

He didn’t realize he was driving to the diner until he pulled into the near empty parking lot. The only vehicles there were Seokmin’s bright yellow Beetle, Mingyu’s red Suburban, and your black Buick. He could see through the windows the tables empty, which was a strange sight to see when there was normally always someone there eating, and Mingyu animatedly talking to someone as he wiped down tables. Not bothering to look out the window at the approaching truck.

Turning off the headlights, Seungcheol parked his truck at the farthest end of the lot where it was harder to see anything inside. He leaned back into his seat, running his hand through his hair, once styled to look nice now sticking up everywhere, watching the diner. Contemplating on going in to ask to speak to you.

He was friends with Seokmin and Mingyu, knowing both when they were pushing each other in the mud as kids, so he trusted that they wouldn’t say anything. He’d be able to apologize for Danni’s actions, once more ask for your forgiveness. Be able to talk to you and maybe get you to see that he truly didn’t intend for things to get so messed up.

It was like fate though, that before he made the choice to go inside, the back door opened and you emerged. Carrying a large trash bag, laughing loudly as you yelled something back inside, and a genuine smile playing over your lips. Brightening your face in a way that made his mouth to drop in awe, and his heart flutter. Seungcheol craved to be the reason behind it.

“Y/N!” He called out as he got out of the truck and walked toward you, making you nearly jump out of your skin and fling the trash bag toward him. It didn’t land far from you, and Seungcheol stopped short. Both of you looking at the bag in confusion. It was you who recovered first and picked it up.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that there wasn’t any tears in the bag before tossing it into the dumpster. “Besides trying to scare me to death.”

“I.. sorry about that,” he let out a nervous chuckle, the corner of his lip upturned slightly. “I… I came to talk to you. To apologize…”

“For your girlfriend saying I pull my clothes out of the dumpster? Or that she’s prettier than me? That she’s more well off than I am? That I am some unwelcomed slut?” You finish for him, finally looking his way. Your bright smile dropping to a sardonic one, turning toward him as your arms crossed. “It might be hard to believe, but I actually don’t give a shit what she has to say about me. Or anyone else in this town for that matter.”

“Still, it wasn’t right.”

“So, you are going to make it right, is that what you are going to do?” You let out a laugh, “I don’t need you to do that, because it’s not your place to make it right.” You hold your hand up to stop him from saying anything. Seungcheol had opened his mouth to argue back but stopped so easily for you. “Just leave it be, Cheol. It sucks, yeah, but sometimes words can only go so deep. And if you only knew, you would understand what I mean by that.”

“Please, I know I can make this right.”

“By what?” There is a sudden waver in your voice, a hitch in your throat. You held onto your smile, though he had achingly watched it change from one that could brightened his day, to a sad one that you were wearing now. “By apologizing for her and the town? To get me to look at you again? I am no one, Seungcheol. Just a lost soul who is trying to find their way in life again.”

The back door then opened to Seokmin, looking out for you with concern. That concern didn’t ease when he saw Seungcheol standing there either.

“Maybe, in another lifetime, things would have worked out differently,” You tell him, walking away before he could reach to stop you. Stopping at the door where Seokmin was still standing, you gave Seungcheol one last smile. Bright, and beautiful but oh so terribly sad. “If you want to make things right, then do it by letting it all go.”

Then you were gone.

**May**

The little town of Diamond Ridge was a mixture of beautiful clear weather and rainy days from April through May. The rain making the surrounding trees and plant life flourish, with everything greener, brighter, and nourished. It made you not regret stopping here after a long drive with your cat, nor regret walking into the diner to ask Mingyu if he knew anywhere you could rent.

So much so that you found yourself going out more no matter what the weather was. Taking trips to the market, visiting the library, explore the trails behind the diner, and stroll through the small park in town. The stares had died down, with only a few still doing it, helping to ease the anxiety you felt. You may not give a shit what these people thought or said, but you sure as hell didn’t like being stared at like you were.

“The Outsiders, huh?” A voice asked next to you while you were looking over the movie box, considered renting it. You found yourself at a small movie rental shop near Cheers and had been browsing the movie selections when the voice had approached.

Looking in his direction, you were met with a younger man standing next to you, his brown eyes looking down at the movie in your hand. He was tall, with high cheek bones that were emphasized by the grey beanie that he was wearing, and his outfit was just a simple pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Around those eyes were some of the prettiest lashes and eyebrows you had ever seen on anyone, and had to tell yourself to not be jealous, though you really were.

“Ye…yeah… it’s one of my favorites.” You started to stutter out but managed to find your voice, handing over the movie without thinking. Letting the stranger take it from you, to look over the covering. “Was just trying to decide if I wanted to watch it again. If you want to rent it, go ahead, I seen it plenty of times.”

“While I appreciate that, I actually work here and I have a copy of my own.” He let out a soft chuckle, but still flipping the box cover around to read the back.

“Oh,” You answer, feeling your face grow warm with embarrassment.

“You have good taste,” He commented nodding, handing it back to you with a smile, “I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N…” You respond, taking the movie back and braced yourself for the same reaction you always got. Except all Vernon did was nod and repeat it out loud.

“You’re the one who moved into the apartment above the diner, right?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty jealous. That place is such a good spot. Spacious, right above the diner and don’t even need to cook if you don’t want to. And you work there, so that’s even better, don’t have to waste the gas.”

“It can be, but the downfall is that if I want to call out, I have Mingyu at my door. Either calling my bluff or trying to force feed me soup. He told me that when he agreed to give me the place and the job.” You point out, and Vernon chuckled again. He had a nice laugh, and he didn’t look at you like everyone else did. It reminded you a bit of Seungcheol, since he didn’t look at you like an outcast either.

“Yeah, I can believe it. He’s always been that way.”

“Everyone really seems to know each other here.” You mumble, more to yourself but he had heard you.

“Well, we all grew up together, and it’s not every day we get someone new moving here. I think the last people to move here was my friend Josh and his mom when we were teens.” Vernon then pointed toward the movie, “You ready to check out? I can get you hooked up with the employee rental discount… and my number if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Sweet.”

Vernon was great. He was easy going, loved a good movie or a good album, polite, gorgeous, and most of all, single. It was nice to have someone other than Mingyu and Seokmin to talk to, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Vernon.

He also liked you. Taking you out or coming by with a stack of movies to binge. He listened to you when you talked, didn’t care or believed the rumors that were started over you. Stating that he didn’t see you the way they painted you and knew Seungcheol wasn’t that kind of guy. Giving you empathy when others didn’t.

Vernon also knew that you liked him, but not that way. He knew that you wanted to, even sharing a few heated kisses during a few hang outs, but something was holding you back. Except that it wasn’t something, it was someone. Someone you couldn’t have or think about.

Vernon was great, but he wasn’t Seungcheol.

You hated that you were still thinking about him after everything. That you were still thinking about how, besides Mingyu and Seokmin, Seungcheol was the first to welcome you to this town. You hated that you wanted to be back in the cross path of his kind eyes, be the reason for a smile over his lips, and be close to him the same way you were that night at the bar. It didn’t matter that the rumors and gossip ruined it, you still found yourself wanting to go back again.

But you couldn’t. Seungcheol and you were not meant to be. He was taken, he had someone already in his life, and you were left wishing that it was all different. Stupid on your part really, to wish that you could go back so that you can explore that what if in your head, when the results would be the same. Maybe they would be even worse, because no matter what. He was spoken for and you’d be what the town thought.

“Movie night this Friday?” Vernon asked through the receiver, “We just got this new movie in, The Little Rascals. I actually saw it in theaters. It’s a pretty cute film.”

“That movie should work, be a lot better than the movie from the other night,” You nodded as if the younger man could see you through the phone. One hand holding the thick white plastic house phone, while the other gently scratched the top of Max’s head. His chubby tabby body curled up next to you, purring softly as your scratches lulled him into a sleep.

“Listen, I thought since you liked Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club that you would like St. Elmo’s Fire. It had the brat pack!” Vernon defended his movie choice, making you both start to laugh.

“I mean the movie wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either.” You pointed out, before sighing, “I’m gonna let you go. It’s my day off and I haven’t done shit on my to do list because you’re distracting me.”

“I will not take responsibility for your bad choices, Y/N.” He quipped.

“We literally been on the phone for the last two hours, and if I am not mistaken, you’re working.”

“I don’t see how that’s important here, because unlike you, I been productive. I put a movie away.” The two of you burst into laughter at this, then he gasps, “Oh shit, before I let you go. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Cheol officially ended things with Danni. I think it happened last week after not talking to her for like… I don’t know, I just know that they aren’t a thing anymore.” Vernon chattered off, and your brows seemed to furrow. Why was he telling you this?

“Uh, no. I haven’t,” You said slowly, before a familiar uncomfortable feeling started to bubble inside. “I’m not being blamed for it this time, am I?”

“Cheol finally realized that she was a bitch and a terrible person, and him settling down with her wouldn’t change that.” You could picture Vernon shrugging before he spoke again. “And uh.. yeah you’re kind of to be blamed too.” You went to protest before he cut you off, “But… just hear him out. Don’t close the door.”

“What…” Lightening flashed through the sky as a click could be heard on the other end of the line. You stared at the phone with pure confusion, Max tossing his head back to get you to start petting him again. “Weirdo.”

The knock came about twenty minutes later, when you had put a load of clothes into the old washer that came with the place. You weren’t expecting anyone, not that anyone would come see you, and Mingyu would call you if he needed something. Respecting your space by not being an overbearing landlord. Not to mention, the rain was now coming down like sheets, so whoever was out there had to be insane.

What Vernon said before hanging up made sense when you opened the door, because standing before you was Seungcheol. His blond hair wet from the pouring rain, sticking to his forehead as he stood there. His white button up sticking to his frame with a few buttons undone down to his chest, and blue jeans darkened. Droplets sliding down his handsome features, his gaze fixated on you.

Soft, worried, scared, but hopeful. It made your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat.

“I been standing out here for the last twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock,” He yelled so that the rain didn’t drown his words out. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, words escaping you. “From the moment I saw you, there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head, and I didn’t know what that meant. Until the night at the bar, when we played pool…” He took a breath before continuing, taking your silence as a chance to say what he wanted to say. “I am still so sorry about what happened after, and this sounds so fucked up, but I wish nothing more for that rumor to have been true… I wanted to kiss you at your car that night, I wanted to hear that little sound from the pool table again. Over and over.

You moving into town made me realize that I was settling with Danni. Thought she was going to be enough, but how could she be when you were the only thing on my mind? You take over my every waking thought, and you invade my dreams at night.” Your mind was buzzing as he continued to speak, unable to move or speak. “I have no idea what the future holds, but I knew that I would regret every day if I married her when I didn’t love her. I would regret not finding out what could have been with you…”

You didn’t let him continue, stepping out onto the patio to join him in the rain. Cupping his cheeks to pull his face to yours. The moment that your lips met, it was like the cold spring rain warmed, and every part of you was coming to life. His full lips felt slightly chapped, but still soft and even better than you had imagined.

Seungcheol didn’t react for a moment, taken off guard at your sudden action, before his body physically relaxed and returned your kiss. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flushed against his frame, his muscles firm under the soaked material and softness of his skin. He felt hot under your touch, running the tip of his tongue over the bottom of your lip, begging for more of you. Which you welcomed, now that you have finally tasted him, desperate for more.

He took over your every sense, after weeks of fighting the yearning feeling for him you let it win. Shattering the moment his tongue met yours, and all you could think about was him, Seungcheol. You needed him to keep touching you, needing to make up for the weeks of thinking about that small moment. To find out what this all meant. You knew you couldn’t stop as his own kiss grew desperate too.

Seungcheol needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, but there was no point in trying to play who needed it more. The point was that you both needed this, you both couldn’t keep pretending.

Slowly moving his hands from your waist, running them over the curve of your ass before grasping at your thighs to pull you up. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth when he lifted you, hooking your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist to brace yourself. His thick hands having a firm hold on you, letting your own hold around his neck loosen to push your fingers through his short hair. The strands still soaked from the rain, while you were no better off. Your own hair wet, sticking to your skin, and your clothes already soaked themselves.

Neither of you gave a shit though.

You couldn’t pull away from his mouth, not caring the need to breathe, so you didn’t notice that he had carried you back inside. You barely registered that you were no longer being pelted with rain in your make out and now in the warmth of your apartment. Nothing around you mattered except Seungcheol.

“No… no…” You gasped out the words when he pulled away, though your lung thanked the sudden rush of air to them. Both your lips were red, swollen, and wet from your kiss.

When he looked at you, it was with different eyes. Lids heavy, pupils blown out giving way to darkened swirls. The emotions that were etched in them earlier gone and replaced was a deep desire. A want that sent a fire through your body and settling in your core.

“Y/N…” If the way he was looking at you didn’t do you in, it was the way his voice came out in a deep rasp, heavy breaths to find the air you took from his lungs. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his as your fingers clung to his hair. Unable to hold back from kissing him again.

“Please…” You whispered against his lips, hoping that a simple sentence would tell him everything you were feeling in those moments. Everything you had been feeling over the weeks.

He was the key to turn you back on, the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and now that you had him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

You needed him. And you knew he needed you.

“Where’s your bed?” It was his only response, and every part of you now burning with need. The water on your skin drying from the heat of your skin.

You allowed him to pull away enough to watch where you gestured toward the full on the opposite end of the apartment. The dark bedding still a mess from when you woke that morning, not thinking about making it. His gaze followed your hand before nodding, taking long strides to your bed. While you took the liberties to kiss down his jaw to his neck, nipping gently at the skin before soothing it with a kiss.

Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the mattress as he laid you down, the weight of his body pressing down on you. Centering while the hard bulge in his pants threw you off kilter. Your patience growing thinner, ready to snap if you didn’t get to have more of him, but he was feeling the same.

First thing off was the wet button up of his, with you watching the way it peeled off his muscular frame. Letting you see those strong arms and shoulders of his, leading to thick pecks and a firm stomach. You caught the sight of a light trail of hair from his belly button leading under the waistband of his jeans. He only took off his shirt, and you were already clenching around nothing.

Next off was the green tank top you were wearing, peeling off the damp fabric to reveal what he was suspecting. You weren’t wearing a bra, making Seungcheol stop since he couldn’t tear his gaze from the swells and nipples hardened into peaks. Taking in the way they moved under your labored breath.

He kissed you again. This time slower, gentler, and nothing like how it was few minutes earlier. His lips molding against yours so well, already memorizing how you liked to be kissed; with his tongue sweeping over yours. You were on him, tracing up his back and felt the muscles from years of hard labor.

Moving his plush lips from yours to kiss over your jaw and neck. Planting slow open mouthed kisses across your skin, letting his tongue taste the salt on your skin while soothing any bites he delivered. A small whimper accompanied your rushed breathing, nails now running across his shoulders through his descent.

Seungcheol made sure to kiss over your collarbone, leaving reminders of him at the curve where it met your neck. Your back then arched when a rough calloused hand cupped one of your breasts, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bud as his mouth found the other.

“Fuck…” You whimpered at the contact, your thighs squeezing and hips rolling against his. A groan escaped him as he sucked and teased one breast while his hand made sure the other had attention before switching. Your own hands moving from his back to his hair once more.

Seungcheol snaked his free hand down to the button of your jean shorts, undoing it before pulling the zipper down. Just to free from slipping into them, under your underwear, and detached his mouth from your nipple now wet from his saliva, to look at you.

“Are you sure? We can wait…” He spoke softly, searching your eyes for any hesitation but you were never surer than you were then.

“I’m tired of waiting…Please Cheol…”

It was all he needed to hear, mouth finding yours while his hand slipped into your shorts and underwear. His finger brushed against your soaked folds, earning moans from you both. You completely surrendered to him.

His hands teased you as he left more reminds on your skin, the aching spots feeling like heaven, with the way his lips attempted to memorize the softness of your skin and the curves of your body. Your shorts and underwear were discarded soon after, legs spread open by his shoulders, leaving you naked and bare for him.

You thought you saw stars when his mouth attached itself to your cunt, his eyes rolling at the first taste of you and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you there, not holding back. Licking and eating you as if starved, his tongue learning every inch of you as he drank the arousal that was dropping from you. When he slipped a thick finger inside, the groan that left him vibrated through your body. Feeling your gummy walls grip at his finger tightly, making him rut into your mattress. The springs squeaking under the roll of his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” You heard him say, muffled because he couldn’t tear himself away to speak properly. Growing addicted to the way you tasted, felt, and the little sounds leaving you. Better than the one from that night.

Adding another finger, he curved them just right, making you shatter. Your whole body vibrating as his name echoed from your lips, a chant as he drank all you gave. His lips and chin glistening with you when he finally pulled away, looking up with a fucked out face that rivaled yours. The sound of the bed moving from his ruts met your ringing ears, making you think about how hard he had to be. Making you clench around his fingers, bringing a smirk to those shiny lips.

“You still want more?” He asked teasingly, moving the digits inside you at a slower pace, unable to stop himself from latching onto your clit again. His eyes looking at you from between your legs, drunk on you. The time it felt like he was prepping you, stretching your tightness to accommodate him.

You both knew where this was heading, and neither of you wanted to stop.

Seungcheol drew another orgasm from you before finally moving the last of his clothes, the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor. Leaving him standing there in front of you, completely bare and on display for you. His thick cock hard, precum leaking and smeared over his tip. It looked bigger than it felt in his pants, and you couldn’t stop from salivating at the sight.

You needed it in you.

When he joined you on the bed once more, going slow with his movement and watched for any signs of you backing out. He wanted to make sure because he knew he would never want to be without you again. Only there was no signs of doubt, your eyes heavy with need and want, especially because of the sureness in his.

Settling back between your legs, his cock brushed against your cunt, collecting your arousal against the underside of it. It made you both shutter, with you grinding your hips for more. With one hand braced next to your head, Seungcheol planted a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself while his other slipped between you.

Grasping his cock to line himself up with you.

“Ready?” He rasped out, pressing his forehead against yours while his other head pressed against your entrance. You nod quickly, wrapping yourself around him. Completely his. “Look at me.”

You didn’t know you closed your eyes until you opened them, both of you watching the other’s reaction when he pushed in. The stretch made your mouth fall open with a high pitch gasp while a string of curses left his. Your walls gripped at him when he thrusted forward, filling you to the hilt.

“Cheol…” You managed to get out, your body shaking as you got used to his size, feeling bigger now that he was in you.

“Yes, baby?” He grunted out, every part of him stopping himself from fucking you like he wanted. It was hard since you squeezed him so snuggly, wrapping around him like you were made for him.

“Fuck me..” It was all he needed to hear, pulling his cock halfway before thrusting back into you. Unleashing something inside both of you, your wanton cries echoed against the walls of the apartment, mixing with the sounds of his own moans and the slapping of skin against skin.

Your nails racked down his back, trying to meet his every thrust but couldn’t with how you were spread out. Leaving you to his mercy and the build that was starting to grow again with every drag of his cock against your walls. Close to a third release.

Seungcheol’s mouth was all over you, over the column of your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts. Causing your back to arched when he took a nipple into his mouth, one hand holding onto the fatty flesh with the other found purchase between your legs. His fingertips brushing where you two met, feeling the slickness of your arousal and his precum mixed, before finding your clit.

He was not going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way you were covering him and gripping at him like a vice. But he refused to until he drew a third orgasm from you. He needed it before his own release.

“Cheol…” You cried out, your hands reaching to grab anything to anchor you as the knot in your core started to snap. His hair, your own hair, the bedding, your breasts, his biceps, nails leaving red scratches over his body where you grabbed and scratched at him.

“Cum for me, Y/N… I’m not far off…” He groaned out, keeping his gaze on you, his cock and fingers helping you let go.

His own released chased after yours, unable to hold out from the way you spasmed and squeezed around him, making it impossible to pull out, or want to. Releasing ropes of his cum inside your inner walls, Seungcheol buried his face into his neck as he did. Groaning and whimpering as he filled you.

Leaving you full of him after he finally pulls out.

Both of you refused to let go of the other or separated until you couldn’t stay connected any longer.

“Do you want to know why I moved her?” You asked, your fingertips tracing the olive tree tattoo on his back, making him turn his head in your direction.

“If you want to tell me.” He said softly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you, the sound of your voice, the soft tracing of your fingers. and the pattering rain outside lulling him into a light doze.

“My mom died last summer,” You started, pain lacing through your words, but you didn’t stop, “Then my old landlord decided to evict me by changing the locks and locking me out of my own apartment. I ended up having to break in to get Max and anything I could carry and put in my car. Then I left, drove until I came upon this town and the diner,” You took a deep breath, swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, “Max couldn’t be in that small carrier much longer, while I was just tired and starving. Neither of us could keep going like that, so I took my chances by asking Mingyu for a job and where I can find a place to live.”

Seungcheol rolled over, so he was now on his back before he reached for you. Pulling you into his arms and let you rest your head against his chest, feeling a stray tear hit his chest.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” He said softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Your own arms now tight around his waist. Holding onto him like he was your anchor to this world. “This town probably didn’t help though.”

“Words are nothing,” You say, turning your head to look at him, only to see he was watching you. His hair sticking up in different directions from your hands, lips well kissed, and so fucking beautiful. “I’ve head worse over the years from a bunch of assholes in the scene I was in. I could have let them take me down, let them hinder me trying to move on, let them break me, but my mom taught me better than that. Only words and opinions that should matter are my own.”

“So, you don’t regret moving here?” He asked, and you smile.

“No, in fact, you make me want to stay more. Be able to call this place home.” With that, you adjusted yourself to kiss him. One that he returned eagerly.

Thank you for reading!! I do hope you enjoyed and I hope I did our Coupsie justice.

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to kno I am doing well!

Please also go show love to the rest of the fics of this collabs when they are posted!

How could you think anything else? His heart races so fast you must hear it trying to beat out of his chest. Wonwoo might be able to control his breathing, yet his heart will always speak the truth. And as your finger traces the side of his face while he pretends to be asleep, he soon might lose control of his lungs as well. Your touch is gentle, obviously you’re trying not to wake him. If only you knew he’s been awake long before you, just biding his time until you wake up and make his morning better.

The sheets are too warm and comfortable to get out of and you might be too shy to initiate these soft, affectionate moments otherwise. It’s cute - as cute as it is frustrating. There’s nothing to be shy about. He’s scared too, afraid he’ll chase you away without meaning to. More than that, he supposes it’s just his nature. Just the walls he built around himself. The urge to protect his feelings, to hide them. He’s trying for you, trying hard to love you in a way that you will feel. And perhaps your shyness does help him peek out of his protective shell. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to see you bloom as well.

“Good morning,” he whispers softly, his arm already reaching for you to bring you closer. Today you go easily, allowing him to embrace you and kiss the top of your head. Not a single squeak, not a single jerk that would betray your surprise.

“You were awake the whole time, right?” you murmur against his chest. Slowly you hug him back.

“Mhm,” he confirms wordlessly. He has yet to open his eyes. “Why?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, your lips press against his skin in a pout. At times like these Wonwoo’s especially glad he doesn’t wear a shirt when he sleeps. He smiles. He might not be able to see you now, but you’re adorable when you’re sulking.

“You’d stop,” he answers simply. You don’t try to disprove that statement.

It’s quiet for a moment, only the sheets rustling while he readjusts the blanket to cover your shoulders. You must hear how ridiculous his heart is being. All simply because you’re cuddled up to him like this, warming him up more than any blanket or the sun could.

“Thank you for not saying anything,” you eventually whisper. He doesn’t push for you to tell him why, doesn’t push for you to stop being shy. One day you’ll realize there’s no need.

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

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