escoupsue is ia for a bit

joshua was being sincere with you when he told you he wasn’t a good bar to set yourself against when it came to breakups. 

there was stephanie from when he was still in college in the U.S.; they broke up because he decided to move back to korea. it was amicable for the most part, but he probably could’ve given her a more generous heads up than the two weeks he did give her. it wasn’t until a year or so later that she realized how unfair that had been and made sure joshua knew—with a series of voice memo texts that were nearly 15 minutes each. 

then, he dated miyoung. she was nice but she also decided she wanted to get married within the next year only three months in, and as a 23-year-old, joshua was freaked out enough to run almost immediately. his relationship with miyoung ended on a phone call that lasted three hours because she was sobbing so hard, he didn’t have the heart to hang up even though he had no idea how to comfort her. he saw her consistently for weeks after out of pure guilt until jeonghan pointed out that this was just a disguised way of stringing her along.

after that, there was bada, nari, bora, aram, and hana, all girls he casually dated for no longer than a handful of weeks before one of them decided it actually wasn’t a fit for various, mostly dumb reasons. nari told him she didn’t like that he collected cologne and had three times as much perfume as she did. he left aram because she ate so messily, it gave him the ick. though apparently, that might be something he doesn’t mind anymore.

he dated yumi for six months, and to this day, she’s still the only serious girlfriend of his that broke up with him. she told him that she felt like after six months, she still barely knew him, and that he was “too concerned” with upholding an image of himself that “didn’t feel real.” he went straight to therapy for that one.

and when he felt a little better in his own skin and ready to put a “realer” version of himself out there, he met mina. mina, his longest relationship, and up until now, someone he was convinced was his first love. he said as much anyway. he was the first to tell her he loved her, he reminded her he did every day, and he thought they had a nice, long future ahead of them. what he pictured in that future exactly, he had no clue. but after an odd and somewhat unlucky streak in dating, he finally felt like mina was a nice and comfy place to land.

he’s never been more wrong about something in his entire life. 

and after the laughable amount of breakups he’s experienced, he’s also never been angrier after the end of a relationship in his entire life.

mina was proving to be a lot of firsts for him—first cheater, first master manipulator and liar, first person who’s ever made him wonder if he could possibly switch over to dating men instead… or simply stop dating at all! sure, he would die alone but he would die in peace. 

whatever the case, he's quickly approaching the conclusion that “first love” is not among those firsts, and it probably never was. no amount of teasing from you or jeonghan did it, but in less than a handful of minutes spent breaking up with mina, he is a million percent sure this was not someone he could have loved. or else what did that say about him and his taste?

sixteen minutes earlier

joshua arrives at mina’s apartment exactly two hours after work ends for her—5 p.m. every day because she always scheduled a pilates class at 5:30 p.m. thirty minutes for her to get to her class, one hour for her to finish it, 30 minutes for her to get home, zero minutes for her to get clean because he doesn’t care how presentable she is when he dumps her. 

plus, however long it takes joshua to end this—hopefully a lot shorter than his experience with miyoung.

he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was coming over; he didn’t think she really deserved that courtesy. he may be intent on a clean break, but he also wanted this to be as annoying for her as it has been for him.

so at a prompt 7 p.m., joshua finds himself casually leaning against the elevator’s railing, ascending the floors of mina’s apartment and feeling almost excited to be free of this experience. 

after he got off the phone with you, he decided he would bite the bullet when work was over. he spent the rest of his day absentmindedly finishing his reports, periodically stopping to scribble an idea for what he would say to his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

he takes the folded piece of paper out of his pocket now and runs over his options again.

his levels of shame and self-pity were sky high when he first pulled out his notepad at the office to write his thoughts out, but after texting you and letting you know what he planned to do, you insisted on meeting at a cafe beforehand to brainstorm together while he waited for mina’s pilates class to end. and once you both workshopped the entire list, his embarrassment diminished almost completely.

it was clear you took this a lot more seriously than he did. he doesn't know what he expected; you probably have a manila folder stuffed full of notes for what you plan to do to siwoo.

as such, you were very helpful. sure, you were also really distracting, with your subtle, spiced perfume he recognized as lola james harper, and your daunting and unrelenting eye contact, and the way your eyes smiled all on their own when they weren’t busy crying over siwoo, and the fact that you graced him with your laugh in person for the first time (every bit as fun as he thought it would be), and everything else that came with just existing in your presence.

all of it was really distracting—almost to the point of it being entirely counterproductive for him. almost, if it weren’t for the fact that you were so determined on his behalf to make this the most unpleasant experience for mina. he was mostly pleased with where you two landed, and if anything, he at least had a better idea of what he wanted to say.

he reads the completely ruined paper, a mess of his black ink and wrinkles where you kept trying to grab it out of his hands. it was already a vulnerable enough occasion talking about this with you; he did not need you seeing his notes on top of it.

TALKING POINTS FOR BREAKING UP WITH EVIL GF i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because someone sent me proof! — cannot say this without exposing that y/n knows about siwoo!!! i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because i went through your phone and saw your text messages! — better, but am i willing to look crazy just to cover for y/n?  yes  what am i saying NO  this will do ✓ how could you do this to us? i loved you! — seems disingenuous? note: yell at jeonghan and y/n for putting ideas in my head later! i literally gave you everything you could’ve wanted, and that still wasn’t enough? what does any other man have that i don’t? — ok met with y/n for feedback. says this sounds pathetic and that i can't let her think this affected me. but she cheated on me? this LITERALLY affects me. i will come back to this one  ok y/n made a different, better point: i am perfect •ᴗ• and i shouldn’t present myself as lacking. so true. she's very good at this! •ᴗ• do you really think anyone with half a fucking brain cell who's willing to homewreck a relationship is really going to give enough of a fuck about you to be capable of putting up with your insufferable ass and treating you as well as i did? — y/n suggested. had to workshop bc she's alarmingly vulgar. plus, maybe toxic to say i "put up" with mina ?? not sure do you even regret hurting me? — y/n says this is silly bc siwoo and mina obviously do not regret anything, but i want mina to feel guilty. y/n now agrees and says i should add: "or are you just so heartless you don't care?" she said this more colorfully, but i will remain respectful  why should i remain respectful? mina is literally the most disrespectful person i’ve ever met. i’ll say what y/n suggested ⤵ your commitment to being a heartless asshole has you by your ugly ass neck and i hope it starts squeezing with both hands  GET SOME HELP! — more for catharsis. won’t be yelling this at her you're going to regret this and if you think there's a world where i take you back when you do, you're mistaken — wow, no notes from y/n! must be very good •ᴗ• definitely say this one!! please never contact me again — note from y/n: "why are you being so goddamn polite? tell her to fuck off and if you ever see her number on your phone screen, you'll set up an appointment on her behalf to get a lobotomy." ????? note from ME: have a serious discussion with y/n at a later time about why i, a MAN, can't just talk to WOMEN like this!

despite the circumstances that led to having to make the list at all, joshua can't help but grin at it. the time spent with you at the cafe was not only helpful; it was fun. maybe the most fun he’s had with a woman since he started dating mina, who chased off all his female friends within the first two months of being in his life. joshua winces as he pockets the list, wondering how he didn’t see the red flags. 

his thoughts are interrupted with the loud and obnoxious ping of the elevator as it arrives on mina’s floor. the doors slide open, and immediately, he hears the obscene sounds of a woman moaning down the hall. his eyes widen as he steps out and turns down the hall in the direction of mina’s apartment. 

the walls of her place were always thin; they were constantly getting into wars with the neighbors that involved banging on the floor, ceiling, and shared walls with her broom. still, he had never heard this kind of noise from her neighbors. 

“tell me about it.”

joshua looks to his right to find an older woman stepping out of her apartment and locking her door. he must have a look of shock on his face because she snorts and nods in what seems like solidarity as she tucks her empty reusable bags into her armpit. 

“that girl doesn’t seem to ever stop,” she informs him. “i’ve complained to the building manager so many times, and still, here she is, screaming like a little banshee and disrupting this entire floor’s peace.”

joshua feels his skin break out into a cold sweat as his mind starts to go a mile a minute. “huh… interesting…”

“i mean,” the woman turns to step into the elevator joshua just walked out of. “what is she even doing? auditioning for a god damn porn? she sounds like my fucking shih tzu’s squeaky toy!” 

he forces a laugh, too distracted to even feel uncomfortable over the inappropriate joke. “maybe,” he mutters. “she sure is putting on a performance.”

“oh my god!” the voice shrieks in perfect timing, making him flinch. 

“ugh, inconsiderate! all hours of the day! does she even work?!” the woman shakes her head and clicks her tongue in disapproval as she presses a button and the doors close. 

joshua stands there for a moment, staring at the elevator, unable to move as he listens to the noises of what could possibly be his girlfriend having sex with siwoo right now. it didn’t even sound remotely like her, and that fact terrifies him even more because if it is her, then she had to be faking it with someone. was she faking it with joshua or with siwoo?

he groans, letting his head fall into his hands. 

“who cares?” he grumbles to himself. the last thing he should be worrying about is whether or not an adulterous liar like mina thought he was good in bed. he should definitely not care anymore. “i don’t care.”

joshua can practically hear jeonghan’s voice telling him, sure you don’t. he shakes his head, trying to banish his jeonghan-shaped conscience from his brain.  

he doesn’t even know if it’s mina. it could very well be some other female neighbor; it’s not far-fetched for people to be having sex. he could just be paranoid right now since he knows she’s cheating on him. 

each floor of mina’s apartment is huge—a maze, really. dozens of units, at least ten near the elevator, several people who could be having sex. 

he always counted himself lucky that mina lived so close to the elevator, just down the hall a few units down. today, though, as the wailing reverberates off the walls of the hallway leading to the elevator, he thinks mina’s floor plan is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

his phone is to his ear before he can fully consider what he’s doing. 

“did you do it?” you seem to dislike greeting people on the phone properly like a normal human being. you speak a little louder than usual, your surroundings lively and buzzing with the noise of what sounds like several conversations. “that was fast.”

“uh,” joshua elongates the sound for a few seconds while his brain tries to tune out the “porn audition” long enough to comprehend your question. “no… nope. i haven’t done it yet.”

“oh. then what’s up? you need backup after all?” you ask too seriously for him to confidently say you’re joking. 

before you both parted ways at the cafe, you offered him company and said you could tag along and jump mina for him. you both laughed and said your goodbyes, but if what joshua fears right now is true, he definitely doesn’t hate the idea of you jumping her. 

“i’m a little busy—well, kinda, not really—but i can fake some kind of horrific emergency and get out of here and over to you in…” you trail off, probably checking the time. “twenty minutes… maybe ten if i’m okay with breaking a few laws. which, rest assured, i am!”

he feels the dread over his predicament slipping as you keep talking, his emotions turning into an incredibly confusing mix of panic, amusement, anxiety, relief, and so on and so on. the number of odd emotions you elicit out of him are countless. 

joshua glides over what he assumes is a joke and straight to the point; the faster he finds out what he needs to, the faster he can hopefully escape this building.

“do you know where siwoo is?” he asks, taking the first few tentative steps to mina’s door. he walks painstakingly slowly, almost tiptoeing even though there’s no possible way anyone could hear him over the lewd moans. 

“he’s at dinner with his vile parents,” you say, sighing like you’d rather talk about anything else. 

“are you sure?”

“yes… why?”

“like… how sure?” joshua presses. 

“uh, 100 percent.” he can picture the frown on your face that usually matches this tone of yours—confused bordering on annoyed. “i’m literally staring at him as his awful monster of a mother tucks a napkin into his collar like a little fucking devil baby, bro.” 

joshua doesn’t know how at a time like this, his brain has the capacity to still take note of how much he loathes when you call him bro. it’s a weird thought to have to process alongside the thousands of other things he’s suddenly feeling.

“i’m at the bar of this pretentious ass restaurant waiting on the bartender to finish their drink orders while they eat all the appetizers without me, like a good, little stay-at-home girlfriend slash maid slash server slash revenge connoisseur!” you inform him, your voice sarcastically cheerful. “i’m going to spit in all their drinks.” that bit comes out in your normal, low—and a little irritated—voice.

“wow” is all he says because his brain doesn’t supply him with anything else.

“like i said, revenge connoisseur,” you say, sounding bored. “so yes, i’m 100 percent sure he’s here. we have to have dinner with these assholes once a week but—” you cut yourself off as you address someone else. “ah, thank you! oh wait, can you actually remove the espresso beans from this one? the abominable woman who gave birth to my boyfriend doesn’t want to have too much caffeine this late in the day.”

joshua realizes his brain has the capacity to do a lot of things in stressful situations as long as he’s talking to you. because he stops walking and immediately starts laughing when he hears the bartender deadpan: “it’s an espresso martini.”

you sigh like you’ve had to explain this a million different times to a million different bartenders. 

“joshua? hold on, okay?” you tell him before immediately addressing the bartender without waiting for him to reply. “listen, i get it. you don’t have to tell me. i know! she’s a ridiculous airhead who gets her life force from making little people like me suffer and ask for embarrassing things on her behalf. i don’t even care if you stick your bare fingers in there to pluck them out—in fact, i actually kind of prefer you do that. i just need them gone before she comes poking her snobby, little nose over here and demands you make her an entirely brand new one.”

that seems to do the job because the next thing you say is: 

“thank you so much. and please give yourself a 50 percent tip—100 even!” you shout the last part as, joshua assumes, the bartender walks away. “it’s on their card, go crazy!” 

the bartender says something that he can’t make out and you laugh. the sound of it—so light and mischievous and charismatic—completely severs the already increasingly weakened grip his panic has on him. he feels like he can breathe a little easier, even among the horrible sounds filling the hallway. 

“okay, i’m back, sorry,” you say into the phone, picking up exactly where you left off as if you never stopped talking. “like i was saying, we do this shit every week, so i can definitely get out of this if you need me to. why are you asking about siwoo anyway?” 

there’s something comforting about the way you’re ready to drop everything to get to joshua even though you just said bye less than an hour ago and you don’t even know why he’s calling. though, he does realize your eagerness is also probably due to the fact that you just don’t want to be around your cheating boyfriend and his family.

joshua exhales slowly through his nose. “well, it’s not quite your 100, but i am like, at least… 70 percent sure that mina is having sex with someone in her apartment as we speak. i thought it was siwoo, but…” he lets you come to your own conclusions.

the silence on the other end of the phone is so much more threatening than the gasping and yelling he expected. it stretches for so long that at some point, joshua wonders if you even heard him. 

“did you—”

“i heard you,” you say, your voice clipped. you pause again for a shorter period and when you speak, you sound a lot less short. “i was trying to ignore it because i couldn’t imagine what the hell it was, but you definitely sound like you’re on the set of a porno.”

joshua grimaces, stepping away from the side of the hallway that mina’s apartment is on as if that will help—it doesn’t, not with the way it echoes off the walls. he cups his hand around the mouthpiece of his phone, hoping that it will keep the shih tzu squeaky toy sound effects from traveling to you. “shit, i’m sorry,” he breathes, scurrying down the hallway and several units past mina’s apartment in a desperate attempt to get away from the moaning. “i didn’t realize you could hear it clearly.”

“are you running away from the noise, joshua hong?” you ask, obviously amused.

“um, maybe.”

“wow, what a gentleman, protecting my innocence like this,” you fake-sigh like you’re swooning on the other end of the line and he blushes furiously. he can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “chivalry is not dead.”

“you’re so insufferable!” he whisper-yells at you. the poor residents of this floor already have to deal with ‘round-the-clock sex; they don’t need to add him being obnoxiously loud on the phone too. “i’m having a horrible time right now, and you’re joking around?!”

you giggle. “okay, fine. i’m insufferable. but at least i made you smile.”

“and how on earth could you possibly know that if you can’t even see me?”

you snort. “please. i can hear it in your voice. your smile transcends all obstacles, hong. you could smile on the other side of the world and i’d know it.”

the claim makes joshua’s hands clammy, and he finds he has no idea what to say to that. he can barely breathe, but this time, it feels a little different—not quite so wrought with anxiety like it was when he first exited the elevator.

sensing you may have gone overboard with your compliment this time, you clear your throat and steer the conversation back on track.

“mina is a real piece of work,” you state the obvious before rambling a little. “cheating on you… cheating on siwoo… though, is that called cheating if siwoo is also her sidepiece…? no, right? she’s just cheating on you twice—fuck, sorry, that was so callous and dumb to say.” he hears something that sounds like you hitting your forehead repeatedly. 

“yeah… i don’t know…” his mind is not on the logistics of the cheating.

“okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” you say, voice kicking into high-gear. “i’ve been gone from the table for almost… 10 minutes; these rats get impatient after, like, two.”

joshua leans against the wall, finding your little plotting voice weirdly comforting.

“siwoo is going to stand up any moment now to see what’s taking so long at the insistence of his egg donor.”

he closes his eyes and tries to calm his heartbeat, smiling a little at your refusal to call siwoo’s mom anything but his mom. 

“and when he does, i’m—oh my god, i’m amazing.”

joshua opens his eyes and frowns. “what?”

you laugh in disbelief before frantically whispering, “siwoo just got up and is walking over here. he is so predictable. also, i just got the ick so bad. this idiot forgot to take his little napkin bib off. okay, he’s almost here. don’t reply to anything i say, alright?”

“al—”

“oh my god, are you serious?!” you shriek at joshua. he immediately brings his phone away from his ear. “are you okay?” you pause like you’re listening to a nonexistent response. “holy shit, girl—” your next words are an exaggerated whisper. “—it’s soph, she’s on a date, having… explosive diarrhea!”

joshua looks at his phone incredulously. he doesn’t know how you manage to sound so convincing when it’s clear to him everything you say comes to mind the very second before you say it. 

“that’s disgusting.” his eyes involuntarily narrow at what can only be siwoo’s voice. he sounds just as dumb as joshua thought he would.

“i have to go!” you exclaim. 

“what?! why?”

“did you hear me?! soph is having a crisis! what am i supposed to do, just leave her in the bathroom of some dingy sushi restaurant covered in her own shit while her date thinks she snuck out on her?!” she speaks back into the phone. “hold on, girl.”

he snorts as he passes a hand over his face in embarrassment even though he’s completely alone. he’s truly amazed at how committed you are to your act. he would’ve cracked before he ever even got to utter the word “diarrhea.”

“uh, yes? we’re at dinner with my parents and that sounds like a really gross her problem.”

joshua rolls his eyes. siwoo is an asshole through and through. 

you pause and he likes to imagine you’re taking a moment to really process what a fucking dick your boyfriend is. “i’ll be quick, baby,” you say through barely concealed annoyance. his eye twitches at the term of endearment anyway. “tell your parents i said sorry! i’ll text you when i’m on my way home! soph, i’m on my way!”

“y/n!” his voice is further away than he previously sounded. “what about our drinks?!”

“ask the bartender!” you practically bellow at him. “fucking incompetent. ‘what about our drinks?’” your impression of siwoo is simply an exaggerated baby voice, and joshua thinks it sounds exactly the same. “what the fuck kind of question? where else would you get your drinks?” you mutter—to yourself, joshua presumes. “okay, shua, i am free and i am on my way!”

he doesn’t even have the opportunity to be surprised about you coming to mina’s apartment; he’s too caught off-guard by the sudden nickname. 

“hello?” you call, suddenly sounding like you’re, at the very least, brisk-walking if not fully running. “you can talk now! i am not in the restaurant anym—oop, excuse me, sorry!”

“shua?” joshua repeats mindlessly.

“aw, don’t like it? we can workshop that too,” you huff, excusing yourself as you navigate whatever street you’re on. “i think it’s cute, though. no? shua... shua!” 

you repeat it a few more times like that will get him to agree. most of the instances of “shua” are breathed out in a quick exhale as you move, and joshua is almost completely convinced you’re running. 

“okay, i’m kind of losing the meaning of ‘shua’ now. i swear it’s cute, though.”

he smiles. “uh, yeah, it’s… cute. different but cute.”

“right? josh is tired,” you claim. “shua feels more fitting for you. anyway, give me… 12 minutes and i will be there.”

“why are you coming here again?’ he asks, remembering to feel confused about your plans. 

“for moral support, hello?” you answer like it’s obvious. “ah! sorry!” you shout at someone who curses. “you have me now, dude.” dude is better than bro, he supposes. “we don’t have to go through these traumatic events alone anymore! i’ll be there and if you want me to blow my cover and this entire plan so i can slap mina across the face, i will!”

his mouth twitches to keep from smirking. the thought is tempting. “you really don’t have to—”

“shut up, i just told siwoo my best friend is having explosive diarrhea for you,” you point out, practically panting now. “we cannot walk this back! now go break up with that horrid bitch, and if she really is fucking someone in there, you tell me and i’ll march up there and win my very first fistfight… uh, what floor is her apartment, by the way?”

joshua shakes his head, trying his hardest not to grin. “no, you stay downstairs. there will be no fistfights tonight. i’ll see you in a bit.”

“got it, boss.”

“and stop running,” he orders. “you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“mmm, agree to disagree,” you heave. “see you soon!” you hang up in a hurry, giving him no time to say bye. 

as he stands in the hallway, he realizes that in the time he spent with you on the phone, the moans subsided. between the absence of your mayhem and the vulgarity of maybe-mina’s maybe-cheating, it’s almost eerie how suddenly quiet the floor is. 

he drags his feet as he makes his way back to mina’s door. when he gets there, he tentatively presses an ear to the wood, and when he can’t hear anything, he raises his fist and knocks before he can change his mind. several seconds pass and he doesn’t hear anyone coming to the door or even speaking. his discomfort eases a little as he starts to think maybe she’s not even home.

mina isn’t one to deviate from her plans; she gets irritable when she has to, so joshua knows that pilates definitely had to be on the agenda today. and if she’s not home yet, then she should be arriving any moment now. he punches in the code for her apartment, determined to wait it out and get this over with because he has no plans to spend another day tied down to a cheater.

“mina?” he calls out as soon as he steps in. he almost bends down to take his shoes off, thinks twice about it, and leaves them on. what did you call it again? taking your small joys wherever you can. tracking dirt into mina’s apartment felt like a small joy right now. 

with no response, he heads into the kitchen to grab himself a water bottle before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. he’s about to take his notes out again when he hears a door click. he frowns. 

“hello?” mina’s voice tentatively calls out from the hallway. 

“it’s me,” joshua says, leaving his notes where they are in his pocket. “i knocked but i guess you didn’t hear.”

“josh?” mina rounds the corner, in her bathrobe. she smiles brightly when she confirms it’s him. “hey, baby. what are you doing here?”

she walks up to him with the ease of a loyal girlfriend. he’s astounded by it, actually; how she can act so sweet and kind and cute when she’s sleeping with siwoo every chance she gets. if he thinks about it too hard, it actually scares him. 

she loops her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, hooking her chin on his shoulder. he tenses and immediately slips off the stool and out of her grip. 

“i wanted to talk to you, remember?” he says, stepping away when she tries to reach for him again. she frowns like she’s finally understanding there’s a problem. “yesterday. but you said you were busy.” busy fucking siwoo. 

even with a direct reference to her infidelity, mina doesn’t bat an eye. he thinks she could probably thrive in a career in acting. “yeah, i had to clock some overtime yesterday,” she lies. “it was such a drag,” she complains as she gets her own water bottle from the fridge. “i paid for my pilates class and everything and had to pay the fee for missing it.”

the lies roll of her tongue so effortlessly, joshua knows he would’ve easily believed them if he didn’t have cold, hard proof. even with the cold, hard proof, he wonders if there’s any way you could have still gotten it wrong. he knows you didn’t. maybe he is gullible because after two days, he already trusts you more than he does mina. 

“pilates,” he repeats in a daze. 

she raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip. she caps her bottle again and nods slowly. “yes, baby, pilates… is everything okay?”

“mina, have you ever cheated on me?”

joshua sees it then—the crack in her facade. her eyes widen, not with surprise or disbelief the way an innocent person’s probably would, but fear. to her credit, it passes quickly as she schools her expression into one of bewilderment. if joshua hadn’t known to look for it, he knows he would have missed it. he would have missed it along with all the other red flags he’s missed. 

“why are you asking me that?” she asks, her voice sharp with the vexation of someone who’s been offended. joshua doesn’t let it faze him.

he shrugs, clenching his jaw briefly before speaking again. “just answer the question, mina.”

mina seems to realize joshua isn’t in the mood for games because her shoulders deflate the tiniest bit, her eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other as she tries to think of what to say. he knows it’s because in the year they’ve been together, joshua has never—not once—lost his temper or expressed any kind of annoyance with her.

it’s always “joshua is so sweet,” “joshua is such a gentleman,” “joshua is so kind,” “joshua is so mild mannered,” “joshua is so fucking gullible.”

joshua is done.

“mina.”

he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out sharp and raised the way it does, but when she flinches, he realizes his patience is slipping faster than jeonghan could ever dream of making it.

“wh—?” she squeezes her eyes shut like she’s trying to understand how they got here. “what?” she suddenly shrieks, eyes opening wide with disbelief and what he’s sure she thinks is translating as devastation. “what are you even saying, joshua?!”

the sheer amount of willpower it takes to keep from rolling his eyes is staggering. “it should be an easy question to answer,” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly. “so i think the fact that you refuse to is an answer in itself.”

he sets his bottle on the counter and moves to step around her so he can leave and just let it be over with—going out, not with a bang, but with a pathetic little sigh—but she steps the same direction, palms out like she’ll shove him if he gets any closer to the door.

“what the fuck are you on right now?” she asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into an ugly, displeased sneer like a switch just flipped.

joshua feels the hair on the back of his neck stand as he frowns down at her. she doesn’t try to wrestle her face into playing along with her placating, innocent girl act. instead, she wears her scowl proudly, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance as she blocks his way from his emergency exit. 

“you’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re asking me that,” she states.

he finds her rage as discomforting as yours but in wildly different ways. your anger makes him freeze up and almost panic; it renders him unable to speak or even think, and he’s still not even sure why. but mina’s makes him physically cringe away. it… annoys him.

just like she wasn’t used to his impatience, he wasn’t used to her being angry—at least not at him. all mina’s ever been angry about have been baristas who used 2% instead of fat free milk in her lattes (and yes, she insists she can tell), long wait times, and her boss demanding she work overtime. though joshua realizes that was probably just an excuse to see siwoo.

“mina, why are you doing this?” he asks, exasperated.

“why am i doing this?!” she repeats, scoffing so obnoxiously hard in his face, spit lands on his cheek. 

he closes his eyes for a brief moment as he wipes it away, willing his patience to hold out long enough to get him out of this building.

“why are you doing this?! why are you as—”

“because i know!” he shouts over her increasingly high-pitched whining. “i’m asking because i know all about how awful you’ve been, mina! and i wanted to see if after a year together, you’d at least have the decency to be honest with me!” 

mina’s attitude drops, her hands immediately combing through her hair frantically, a nervous tic she always had.

“i know you were faking business trips, i know you were sleeping around, i know you were fucking him last night when i told you i needed to talk to you—when your boyfriend of a year wanted to see you!”

she stares at him helplessly, mouth hung open and her eyes quickly filling with tears. he realizes as he stares back, feeling nothing but resentment and disdain for her, that your wildly fluctuating emotions unnerve him because he wants to find a way to get you back to your baseline, if not all the way to the other end to happy.

as he watches mina begin to weep, he feels none of that. for the first time in his life, joshua yearns to be cruel. he wants to make her cry harder, and it makes him resent her even more—for making him think and feel something so reprehensible.

he suddenly sees why you’re so open to letting your fury flow through every part of you before unapologetically releasing it right out into the world the way you do. after a lifetime of insisting on being the calm one, the collected one, the unbothered one, the unfeeling one, he realizes that being angry like this is addicting—freeing.

“baby, i…”

“don’t, mina, i’m not your fucking baby,” he says. even he can hear how tired he sounds. 

“i’m so sorry,” she whispers, voice cracking. “i am, i really am. i don’t know why i did it. i—i don’t know—i’m so—i…”

“save it,” he puts her out of her misery of trying to find the right words to manipulate him into thinking she’s anything other than the deceitful cheater she is. “i know you don’t regret hurting me like this. i—”

“no, i do!” she wails, throwing herself at him now.

he immediately starts untangling himself from her hold but she makes it impossible, her grabby hands all over him as she tries to get him to stop attempting to escape her.

“mina, let go o—”

“i regret it, joshua, i swear to god i regret it!” she weeps so loudly now, he starts to feel dread gathering in the pit of his stomach the way it did when he broke up with miyoung. “i never wanted to hurt you, i love you!”

“holy shit,” he grumbles, shoving her hands off him and stepping away from her even though it meant being farther from the only exit. “how can you even say that to my face right now?”

“it’s true!” she screams, grating his nerves. “i love you! i want to spend the rest of my life with you! it was all a mistake! minhyuk was just a temptation i gave into at a weak moment, and i swear it didn’t mean—”

“who the hell is minhyuk?” he asks, frowning when her words finally catch up to him.

mina freezes, and it’s like her tears get the memo because they stop too. it’s the only reason joshua knows that no matter how convincing, this was also just an act.

he glares now.

“who. is. minhyuk. mina?” he staggers his words like it’ll help her few remaining brain cells unite long enough to understand and answer his question.

“i… what do you mean? you said… you said you knew that i… you said—”

“i know about siwoo,” he clarifies, his temper at its breaking point. he’s a moment away from calling you to come up here and make sure he doesn’t land himself in jail, wrecking mina’s entire apartment in an attempt to claw his way out of it. “who the fuck is minhyuk?”

joshua doesn’t think he’s ever cussed this much in his life.

“i—”

“who the fuck is siwoo?” 

joshua’s head whips around toward the voice, coming from the hallway that leads to mina’s room. the laugh that immediately escapes his mouth is instinctive and hysterical. he doesn’t know any other way to react than to start laughing; if he doesn’t, he’s positive he’ll somehow spontaneously combust. 

because standing in mina’s hallway is one of the many reasons her neighbors despise her. a very half naked reason, dressed only in boxers.

“are you for fucking real?” mina hisses, shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as if joshua isn’t even in the room. “i told you to wait in the room and be fucking quiet, you moron. are you—”

“who is siwoo?!” the man shouts now.

joshua’s laughs peter out, and with them goes his anger. he sighs, shaking his head and remembering how drained he feels. 

“i take it you’re minhyuk.” the man glares at him but doesn’t respond, so he nods. “well, mina, i guess you were truthful about one thing: you really were busy last night, weren’t you?”

“how did you even know siwoo stopped by here?!” she yells. joshua hopes building management kicks her out after the noise complaints she’s bound to get from today alone.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking cheating on me!” minhyuk disappears back into mina’s room, shouting nonsense as he gathers his things. 

“you’re definitely not the one who was cheated on!” joshua calls after him, rolling his eyes. he turns back to mina, mustering up the very last of his energy to finally end it. “mina. you’re disgusting. i will move on from this remembering you as nothing other than a nasty stain on my otherwise amazing life.”

a squeak of protest erupts from her mouth, but he doesn’t let her get a word in.

“but you... you’ll continue to do whatever sleazy shit you’ve been up to for who knows how long, and one day, you’ll wake up and realize how empty and tragic and ugly you and your life both are—” she has the audacity to look offended at the word ugly. “—and you won’t be able to do anything to change that because no one worth having around will have cared enough to stick by you.”

her tears start again and this time, they feel real—they don’t come with screaming or begging or lying. they steadily stream down her face and it makes joshua feel like he’s high.

“your commitment to being a selfish asshole really has you by the neck and i pray to god it starts squeezing with both hands,” he says, delivering your line with a tight-lipped smile.

he finally steps around her, making his way to the door. he opens it and just before he leaves, he thinks, what the hell? and turns back.

“mina,” he calls softly. she turns back to him, face red and splotchy. “don’t contact me. if i ever see your phone number on my screen, i’ll personally call every single cafe on this fucking continent and make sure they only serve you whole fat milk for the rest of your life.”

she gasps like he just made a legitimate threat, and he gets the immature and overwhelming urge to ridicule and laugh at her.

“oh, and get some fucking help,” he adds before turning away and leaving without waiting for her reaction.

fortunately, he gets the elevator immediately. 

unfortunately, none other than minhyuk comes barreling in before the doors close. he has the sense to at least look ashamed, throwing joshua a pitiful smile, but it isn’t enough, so he steps forward and presses a finger to the button that keeps the doors open.

he doesn’t say anything, blankly staring at the man who apparently had sex with his girlfriend either before or after siwoo did last night. minhyuk gets the clue and sighs.

“bro, we’re on the 13th floor,” he protests.

he still doesn’t respond. finally, when several seconds of minhyuk fidgeting have passed, the man groans dramatically—not unlike mina herself—and he stomps out of the elevator and toward the stairwell.

joshua smiles to himself, releasing the button and letting the elevator doors close and take him down to the lobby—down to you.

when joshua exits mina’s building, you’re waiting exactly where you had accosted the two of them the night before, sweaty and disheveled from your run over, but somehow still looking so incredibly pretty. 

you take one look at his face and know exactly how the entire conversation went down without even having to ask. then, an interesting thing happens: you do something joshua thinks is akin to exploding, and he has to hold you back from storming the building. you don’t even know where mina lives, but he knows if he lets you go, you’ll knock on every single door of all 25 floors until you find her and sock her in the face. 

and even as he tries to calm you down now, something warms his heart knowing you care enough to do something as ridiculous as that.

“you’re causing a scene,” he grunts, stepping in your way again when you try to dodge him.

“if you think this is a scene, you’re gonna hate what i’m about to cause on whatever goddamn floor that bitch lives on!” you inform him. 

“i’m not telling you and the front desk won’t either. he’d probably call security on you before you even get to the elevators.”

“i don’t care! i’ll punch the man at the front desk too! my fists are rated E for everyone!” you shriek wildly, darting back and forth as you try to get around him. against his will, an amused snort escapes him.

when it’s clear to you that joshua’s height and long legs are going to make it impossible for you to fake him out, you give up on going around and decide to go through.

joshua shouts in surprise when you barrel right into him, opting for pushing him backwards to get a few steps forward. he catches on quickly and digs his heels in, gripping your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length.

“she’s not worth this time or energy,” he tells you. 

“oh, i disagree, i think she’s worth a lot of my time and energy!” you refute. “i think she’s worth as much of my time and energy as it takes for me to rock her shit!”

you groan as you struggle against his hold, and he almost laughs at how hard you seem to be trying because it’s relatively easy to keep you where you are. you shrug his hands off and slap him away, charging forward again, but before you can, he plants his palm on your forehead, stopping you in your tracks.

“yah! joshua hong!” you shove his arm away from your forehead, and he can’t help when the laughs finally break free. “how are you laughing right now? i could kill her!”

he shrugs, his laughter suddenly snowballing until his hands are on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. 

he can’t do anything other than laugh. he has to laugh at the year he’s wasted with mina, or he’ll drive himself crazy asking himself what’s wrong with him that his taste led him so astray (something to unpack when he inevitably returns to his therapist). he has to laugh at the memory of walking in while minhyuk was still there or he’ll fixate on the fact that he has no idea how many men mina’s cheated on him with—and the fact that he needs to go get tested for STDs immediately. there is no other option but to laugh because he has no idea how someone’s life can change this fast because of an instagram DM.

when he finally stops, he sighs, straightening up to find you looking at him with a blank expression.

“oh, you’re so not okay,” you mutter.

“i’m fine,” he insists, shaking his head. he rests his hands back on your shoulders, this time gently, and he nods once. “this has just been the most ridiculous 24 hours of my life, and i’m tired and i’m starving. can we please escape this hellhole and eat? i’ll even pay.”

your eyes narrow at that, studying his face like you’re trying to see if he’s lying to you about being okay. he isn’t—at least he doesn’t think he is—but he also doesn’t think you’d be able to tell if he were anyway.

“i know a ramen spot near here?” you offer hesitantly.

it irks him that you not only have a go-to fried chicken spot in the area but a ramen spot too, and only because you’ve followed siwoo here enough times to have favorites. he thinks you deserve to find favorites in more meaningful ways.

he doesn’t say that, though, of course. instead, joshua looks you up and down before he scans himself, pointedly staring at how sweaty the two of you are in this sticky summer heat. 

“ramen is good for the soul,” you say, reading his mind. “the best comfort food. plus, you’ll sweat out all your heartache.”

“i have no heartache to sweat out.”

“right,” you agree, nodding easily and in a way that makes him question if you’re being sarcastic or not. “maybe we should invite jeonghan.”

he tilts his head. he’s not opposed because he needs to fill his best friend in, but he’s also not enjoying you being the one to suggest it. “why…?”

you shrug. “my offers to dole out violence on your behalf can only go so far. your best friend will probably be better equipped to handle… whatever that was that just happened right now.”

he snickers and rolls his eyes. “okay, i’ll text him.”

“no need, i already did!” you say as you loop your arm through his and begin to pull him away from the building. 

he scoffs, a little too aware of the scowl that erupts on his face. “how do you have jeonghan’s number?”

you look up at him and snort. “we all exchanged information last night, remember?”

no, you and joshua exchanged information last night after he insisted on it so he knew when you got home safe. his eye twitches when he thinks about jeonghan sneaking you his number too—and maybe even texting or calling you as much as he was today.

“he’s waiting for us at the ramen shop.”

he clenches his jaw before forcing a smile. “you really are such a well-prepared individual, aren’t you.”

“gotta be if i’m going to ruin siwoo and mina’s lives.”

“mina? i thought—”

“oh baby,” you say it with fake pity like he’s actually a child, but he finds he likes it a hell of a lot more than dude. infinitely more than bro. “she doesn’t get a pass anymore. that ship sailed when she decided to do my shua like that.” oh, he likes that one a lot. “she’s officially back in the plan.”

joshua grins genuinely now, nodding without arguing. even if he didn’t want you to wrap your metaphorical revenge hands around mina’s ugly neck and shake violently (he does), he knows arguing with you is futile.

“okay.” he feels the exhaustion from earlier slowly leave his body, already feeling lighter as he walks with you, arms looped together like you’ve been best friends for years. “let’s ruin some lives then.”

you look up at him and squeeze his arm, jumping a little as you squeal, “let’s!”

“bye, y/n.”

joshua tries not to glare as jeonghan pulls you into a hug, one arm snaking around your waist as he grins over your shoulder at him. he flashes his eyebrows at him and all his efforts go to waste. he gives him the nastiest glower he can. his best friend’s smirk just widens. 

he doesn’t know what’s going on—with jeonghan, with you, with the both of you, with himself. for the first 40 minutes sitting in the restaurant, joshua retold the hellish afternoon he experienced and took all of his best friend’s many i-told-you-so, what-a-bitch, and i-knew-she-was-a-snake comments with grace. but as soon as that was over, jeonghan flipped a switch.

all night, the man has been acting so weird with you, laughing too hard at everything you say, touching you any chance he gets, saying things just because he knows you’ll agree. and all night, for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on, it’s been driving joshua up the wall. it’s probably because you’re literally still in a relationship. his best friend could at least wait until you’re properly single before he starts doing whatever jeonghan-styled mating call this is.

nope. that’s not it. that thought drives him even further up this insufferable, metaphorical wall.

“later,” you say as you step back. “don’t forget to send me that brand of hair remover you were looking at.” you turn over your shoulder and joshua immediately drops his glare and smiles. if you saw the look he was giving jeonghan, you don’t show it. instead, you wink at him. “we’re going to need that for mina’s shampoo now, huh, shua?”

“shua,” jeonghan repeats, obviously delighted, eyebrows rising and grin quickly entering shit-eating levels. “cute!”

you turn back to him excitedly. “right?! i think so too!”

“you’re such a genius, y/n,” he says, sounding nauseatingly lovesick. joshua silently scoffs at him behind your back. he should know better, though, because that just eggs him on. “i’ll text you the link as soon as i get home. or—” he meets his eyes again. “—i’ll just call you!”

“sure, whatever,” you shrug, as indifferent as ever. it makes joshua happy. maybe a direct rejection would make him even happier, though. “get home safe!”

“yeah, get home safe,” joshua echoes as jeonghan steps around you to hug him as well. “don’t fall into a manhole or get run over by a massive truck or anything,” he mutters too quietly for anyone else but him to hear. 

“i love you too, man,” jeonghan laughs, rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulder as he steps away. “call me if you need to drink your sorrows away. see you two!”

he finally walks off toward his car as you step up to joshua’s side, looping your arm through his again. his heart immediately slows, recovering from the irritation of dealing with a menace.

“jeonghan knows i have zero interest in dating him, right?”

joshua can’t help the bark of laughter that all but rips its way out of him.

“no, like,” you laugh a little, “he comes on so strong? i don’t think i’ve ever met someone as bold as he is.”

that’s ironic, seeing as joshua has never met anyone as bold as you.

“i don’t know if he knows that,” he says honestly. “but either way, he wouldn’t make a move until you were single.”

he gets brief flashes of jeonghan’s fingers brushing up against yours, jeonghan delivering wings onto your plate, jeonghan hugging you a beat too long, jeonghan existing around you. 

“i think,” he adds, frowning.

you make a sound of disbelief as you both watch jeonghan pull out of his spot and drive away. you both stay rooted to the spot, watching nothing in particular.

 “i am single. for all intents and purposes, i am absolutely single.”

joshua is alarmed at how horrible the chill that runs up his spine feels—like an omen of how unbearable his life will become if two crazy people like you and jeonghan join forces to become one.

“i just happen to be a single woman pretending to still love her ex so she can obliterate his entire existence from the inside out.”

“right,” he says, nodding. “of course. i just mean that… i—uh… i have no idea what i mean. but i’ll tell jeonghan to fuck off.”

you whistle, laughing after you do. “i think that’s the first time i heard you cuss,” you inform him. “my shua cussing…” 

you don’t finish your thought because you giggle, and he thinks the sound triggers his fight or flight. he lets you laugh and when it fades, you shake your head.

“don’t tell jeonghan to fuck off,” you tell him. “it’s fun. flattering.”

“flattering?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

you shrug. “i’ve been with that idiot, siwoo, for two years. i guess it’s nice to know that someone thinks i’m cute enough to flirt with. at least i know i’m still an eligible bachelorette.”

joshua huffs out a laugh of disbelief. “are you serious?”

you yank your arm out of his, startling him. “what?! you don’t think i’m cute enough to flirt with?!” you ask, half offended but obviously thoroughly amused.

“quite the opposite, actually,” he says before he can convince himself not to. he’s about to start sputtering about how he means it in the most platonic and objective way possible, but since you’re you, he doesn’t need to.

“good, that’s what i thought,” you say, grinning and weaving your arm through the ditch of his elbow again. “i’m very cute.”

joshua is glad you’re so comfortable to be around. he knows if he agreed with you now, you’d happily accept the compliment, but if the roles were reversed, he would be flustered for the next week. 

you two enjoy a comfortable silence before he sighs contentedly and looks down at you to ask if you’re ready to leave. he forgets what he’s about to say when he meets your eyes, though.

you’re already looking up at him and smiling softly. “did you like the ramen? do you feel better?” you ask, tilting your head.

he thinks you would look nice resting it against his shoulder. “i feel much better,” he confirms. “thanks again—for coming so fast and so last minute without me even asking you to.” he pauses to think, frowning when he confronts how ride-or-die you’ve been for him today. “and even before that. thanks for workshopping all those horrible lines with me.”

you grin. “don’t mention it, dude.” he’s too content right now to make a face at that. at least it’s not bro. “it was a lot of fun, actually.”

“i still don’t think i have any heartache to sweat out into any other bowls of ramen—” you snicker. “—but it’s nice to know i have two people to cry to if i ever do.”

you nod enthusiastically. “exactly! you have jeonghan, and you have me now.”

he hums, feeling an intense desire to say you have him too—because you do, and you unfortunately already have jeonghan as well—but he stops himself. he’s only known you one day, and he’s just not as courageous as you are with your words. 

“it’s nice,” you mutter, “to have people to go through these things with.”

joshua doesn’t voice his curiosity about your own friendships. were there no other people you were able to expect this kind of support from? where was this soph you used to excuse yourself from dinner? any other friends? family? 

he lets his curiosity simmer. you’ve already subjected each other to incredibly intimate parts of your life; the rest can come another day.

“hopefully, it’s the first and last time we go through this,” he remarks, chuckling.

“one can hope,” you agree. “and the ramen?” you prod. “was it good?”

“i loved it,” he says honestly, “but—”

“‘but’?!” you practically shriek. “but what?! the ramen here is really good! what could you possibly have to say about the ramen here?”

he laughs, looking away from you and rolling his eyes at how fast you are to pounce. “i love the ramen, but,” he continues, “we need to find you some favorites that don’t involve roaming around the area that siwoo and mina happen to be in. i’ll show you some of my favorites. away from here. and if you want your own favorites, then we’ll go to a place you’ve never been and we’ll find you new favorites. but i hate to inform you… this will be the last time we eat in this godforsaken area so i hope you enjoyed that.”

when joshua looks back down at you, you’re no longer smiling. he tenses when he realizes you look a little sad, your mouth turned down at the corners so slightly, he probably wouldn’t notice if he weren’t so close to your face.

“oh,” he breathes, “y/n, i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

you shake your head quickly and he clamps his mouth shut.

“y’know,” you say quietly, like any louder and you’ll start crying. he doesn’t doubt that you would. it’s been a whole 24 hours since you did—at least in front of him. “it really fucking sucks… finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, and on top of that, having to continue relying on him.”

your hold on his forearm tightens for a moment, and before he can think about it, he removes his right hand from his pocket and closes it over yours.

“and i know that we’ve only known each other for like… a day,” you say, laughing even though your voice is getting dangerously watery, “but every time we talk… i stop to think i’m really lucky that of all the people i could’ve been suffering through this with, it turned out to be you.”

joshua’s mouth parts to say something, but nothing comes out because nothing even comes to mind. there you go again—so honest and forthcoming and bold and you. there you go again, making his brain the most useless organ in his body without even trying.

“you’re really nice,” you sigh. “thank you.” you turn away and wipe at your eyes quickly before taking your hand back from his and releasing his arm altogether. he immediately feels a little colder. he returns his hand to his pocket. “for my last dinner in this stupid fucking neighborhood.”

he clears his throat. “you’re welcome.”

“i’ll hold you to it, y’know,” you warn him, bumping his shoulder. “don’t think you can say nice things like that and then have no follow-through.”

from the way you say it, he knows you’re thinking of siwoo. he wonders what sort of tiny things siwoo promised you that he never delivered on if he couldn’t even do something as simple as stay true to you. joshua thinks it will be easy for him to show you how nice people can be when they aren’t taking you for granted.

“good, hold me to it.”

“i will! you owe me a favorite chicken shop, a favorite ramen shop, a favorite boba shop, a favorite ice c—”

“jesus christ, how often were you here?”

you laugh loudly. “you owe me so many favorites.”

joshua smiles. “come on,” he says. “we’ll get you all those favorites. but for now, let’s get you home.”

“goodbye forever, ramen shop,” you bid the establishment farewell happily. “and goodbye, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

he grins. “good riddance, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

you’re consumed by giggles hearing him curse again.

acting normal while texting you proves to be the hardest thing joshua has done every single time he does it. it’s either you’re being incredibly funny and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot, or you’re saying a bold inside thought and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot. either way, even if he thinks he does a good job at appearing normal via text, he knows he looks crazy in person.

“you’re cheesing real hard, bro.”

joshua immediately locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket as he forces his face into a blank stare. 

“smooth,” jeonghan says, snickering from where he’s sprawled across the other side of joshua’s couch, no longer paying attention to the movie he begged to put on. “texting y/n?”

“no.” the lie comes out before he can even think about it. “watched a funny video.”

he hums, a soft smile on his lips. joshua knows he doesn’t believe him. “well, speaking of her, what’s going on with the two of you anyway?” 

“what?”

“what’s going on with—”

“no, i heard you,” he laughs. “i just meant, like… what do you mean? i’m helping her with siwoo. you know that.”

he narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly, but being his best friend, joshua is educated on all the nuances jeonghan’s face comes with.

“what?” he asks again. 

“do you like her?”

“yeah, she’s cool. kind of intense but cool. don’t you?”

jeonghan rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s trying not to smile too widely. he cocks an eyebrow at him. “i mean, do you like like her? do you fancy her?”

joshua scoffs. “what?”

it’s such a ridiculous question to ask someone who broke up with his girlfriend not even a full week ago. he thinks he was mostly telling the truth when he told you he had no heartache for him to expel from his body because both his heart and brain have been fairly quiet since that afternoon, but even then, he’s still too disoriented from how fast his life changed to think about liking anyone.

“it’s been days since mina and i broke up,” he reminds his best friend. “how could i already be interested in someone else?”

“well, mina didn’t wait to break up before she bec—”

“okay,” joshua holds a hand up to stop him from pointing out mina’s infidelity for the thousandth time since they found out. “mina and i aren’t the same. i can’t just jump into something else so quickly after. and it’s not even about mina.”

“oooh,” jeonghan sits up properly and crosses his legs, folding his hands over his knee. “explain.”

he shrugs. “i don’t really feel all that torn up about her as much as i am about how bad my instincts are.”

he frowns. “your instincts?”

“yeah, like… the signs were glaringly obvious,” joshua explains. “you knew she was a snake before all of this; you just didn’t know why. how come i didn’t see any of that? and,” he practically yells as he resituates himself on the couch so that he’s fully facing jeonghan, “how could i have thought i was going to possibly marry someone like that? i can’t even think about looking at another person until i wrap my mind around how i could have ever thought i was in love. what if i don’t even know what love is?”

“whoa, okay—”

“what if i end up with another mina?”

“—slow down,” jeonghan raises his hands like he’s trying to calm a bull. he mirrors his position, fully turning to him on the sofa now. “first of all, you know what love is. your judgment was just clouded for a little bit! you were lost in the joy of having a girlfriend that lasted a lot longer than the others. or you were being a weirdo and getting swallowed up by the plight of being in your 30s with no prospects for marriage, so you deluded yourself into thinking mina was it.”

joshua’s mouth pops open in shock a little at that. “i mean… that’s… plausible.”

“whatever it is—even if it is that she fooled you and you were blind to all the red flags, that doesn’t mean you don’t know what love is. how could you not know what love is when i’m your best friend? i love the shit out of you.”

he does crack a smile at this. he lets the reminder sink in and marinate in his brain. jeonghan could very much be right on the money with this one; after all, mina came at a time when joshua was starting to question if his love life was cursed. he was fresh out of therapy he sought out because his ex broke up with him for essentially being a robot, and he was eager to share more of himself with the next one—to love the next one harder than he had the rest. maybe he really was just forcing something to be that wasn’t meant to be.

“say it back.”

he laughs. “i love you too.” he sighs. “what else?”

“huh?”

“you said ‘first of all.’ i assume you have a second of all?”

jeonghan frowns for a moment before a light bulb goes off in his head. “yes! second of all, y/n is not mina.”

“wait, what?”

“you said, ‘what if i end up with another mina?’ y/n is not mina.”

“of course she’s not mina,” joshua says. that much is obvious; if mina is one end of the spectrum, you’re so far on the other end, it went all the way back around to mina. “but why are we even talking about y/n?”

“because it’s clear you like her,” he informs him, amused. 

“i don’t like her like that,” he disagrees confidently and somewhat exasperatedly. whenever jeonghan got ideas like this in his head, it became an inarguable truth to him regardless of what anyone else said. he knows if he doesn’t nip it in the bud, he’ll run with it for the rest of their lives. “she’s funny and nice and cool to hang out with, but she’s just a friend.”

“is that why you’re texting and calling her 24/7 when the rest of us feel like we’re pulling teeth trying to get you to respond to us?” jeonghan points out. joshua opens his mouth to refute his point, but he steamrolls right over his words. “is that why you’re extra mean to me whenever the three of us hang out?”

“we’ve only hung out all three of us twice. and what do you mean i’m mean to you?”

his best friend laughs openly in his face. “you’re really going to tell me you don’t notice the way you kick me or interrupt me or glare at me whenever so much as an ounce of y/n’s attention is on me instead of you?”

is that what his odd behavior at the ramen shop was about? he was trying to get on joshua’s nerves as some kind of experiment?

joshua narrows his eyes at him. “i do those things because you’re annoying me.”

“i’ve annoyed you our whole lives,” he shoots right back. “you’ve only started abusing me recently.”

“you’re so dramatic and wrong.”

“okay!” jeonghan agrees too easily. he stands up.

“where are you going?” joshua leans back to look up at him. “aren’t we getting dinner later?”

he hums in thought before quickly saying no. “rain check! i think i’m going to ask y/n if she wants to go out instead. i’ve been thinking about asking her out.”

joshua is not dumb. joshua is actually very smart. he graduated top of his class from an ivy league in the U.S., he has an MBA, and he—much like you were supposed to be before siwoo upended your life—became a director at his company before 30, still on track to become the youngest senior director.

joshua is smart and he knows what jeonghan is trying to do, but his dumb face frustratingly doesn’t get the memo. before he can even fully process the words, his eyebrows are pulling down, eyes sharpening into a glare, and jaw clenching so hard, he knows jeonghan can hear his teeth grinding.

“oh, really,” he deadpans. 

“yup!” he has the audacity to grin at joshua, eyes so full of mischief and mirth, he wants to kick him again and give him something to really complain about. “i’ll see myself out, don’t worry about getting up. bye joshuji! i’ll tell y/n you said hi!”

joshua scoffs as he watches him actually leave his apartment. and again, because various parts of his body seem to be missing signals from his brain that he doesn’t care, once the door clicks closed behind jeonghan, he throws himself back onto the couch mindlessly and hastily, struggling to retrieve his phone from his pocket. 

“why are these jeans so fucking tight,” he mumbles as his hand gets a little stuck. when he finally rips the phone out of his pocket, he briefly considers texting you but lands on calling you instead. what he’s going to say, he has no idea. 

“i was just about to call you,” you once again answer without greeting him first. 

“oh. hi,” he says, a little thankful for the non-greeting for once because it gives him some time to come up with an excuse for calling you other than he wanted to beat jeonghan to it. “why were you going to call?”

“because you were taking a long ass time to reply again,” you say simply. he snickers at your streak of impatience. “why are you calling?”

that wasn’t a lot of time to come up with an excuse at all, but joshua thinks “so we can make plans. i don’t feel like texting” is more than good enough. 

“oh yay,” you accept the fib easily. “well, as an unemployed idiot, i am free… let me see… oh yes, all day every day, but extra free on whatever day siwoo’s parents decide to hold me hostage at dinner with them.”

joshua laughs, slowly relaxing against the couch once more. “well, how about tonight?”

“ugh, unfortunately, they do not want to have dinner tonight, but yes, i am free.”

“how about we meet to discuss your top secret plan tonight and then hang again whenever your dinner with that nightmare family is?” he suggests. 

“joshua hong, my knight in shining armor,” you joke. his cheeks warm at the words. “sounds like a plan. can we meet at yours, though? i don’t want to reveal how crazy i am in a public setting. that seems too vulnerable. and i’d invite you over here but it’s probably best we don’t discuss these plans in the home of the man whose life i’d like to destroy.” joshua truly admires your way with sarcasm. 

“yeah, i’ll text you my address,” he agrees. and because he’s extra irate with jeonghan for thinking he can manipulate him into becoming some kind of jealous monster, he adds: “you can come over whenever—even now if you want. i’m free all day” just in case his best friend calls you too after you hang up.

“oh great!” you say. “siwoo is out all day doing lord knows who or what and i’m done brushing the toilet with everything he owns, so i can be on my way once you send it.”

joshua smiles. “perfect.”

he knows he literally just played right into jeonghan’s game, but somehow, he still feels like he won.

it doesn’t take you long at all to get to his apartment, and when you do, he’s a little stunned to open the door and find your arms completely empty—no files full of information only the CIA would have or fat manila envelopes stuffed with plans to eviscerate your exes like he expected. instead, you stand there, hands clasped in front of you with nothing but your purse hanging on your shoulder. 

“nice place,” you comment as you look around his apartment, unabashedly looking at the books on his shelves, art on the walls, even running your fingers across the strings of his guitar in the corner. “you play?”

he hums as he plops back down on his couch. “yeah, since i was young. do you?”

you laugh like he told a joke. “no. i’m not creatively gifted. it doesn’t really surprise me that you are, though.”

he’s about to ask you what makes you say that but you turn to him and clap your hands together once. 

“okay! let’s do this! we have a lot of material to get through tonight.” 

you throw your purse on the counter of the breakfast bar, make your way to the coffee table in front of him, take your phone out of your pocket, and sink to the floor. 

“let’s start with mina; i think she’ll be much easier since she doesn’t have a family-owned empire for us to topple.”

joshua’s eyes widen. “a family-owned what for us to what?”

you wave your hand like it’s an irrelevant detail. “we’ll get into it later,” you assure him as you get to wherever you were swiping to on your phone. you read a few lines and then nod, looking up at him. “so mina is a grade A gold-digger.”

joshua huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. “i’m not saying i disagree because you have very solid evidence—good job, by the way—”

“thank you!” you chirp happily, smiling widely.

“—but i am not rich enough for anyone to try digging for gold around here.”

your smile disappears, expression flattening into a glare as you pointedly look around his apartment. he follows your gaze, and yes, he sees what you see: a very spacious apartment, all of the interests and hobbies he can afford to indulge in, and furniture he hired an interior designer to curate for him. he’ll give it to you—he’s definitely a little more than just comfortable, but he’s not gold-digging material. he never even gave mina much money; he just paid for dates, and he tells you as much.

“well, i did some digging, and that’s all she would’ve really needed you to pay for. little miss busy body had multiple streams of income,” you tell him, swiping on your phone until you’re showing him screenshots of instagram profiles. the first is siwoo’s. 

joshua would never admit it, but his curiosity got the best of him after overhearing your conversation with siwoo over the phone, and he found his profile after combing through the accounts you follow. the man’s face was tolerable enough, though not anything special to look at, in joshua’s opinion. he definitely thinks you can do a lot better. but for mina, though, he’s perfect. they’d make monstrous, ugly, little children.

“so here are my theories,” you announce. “correct me if you think i’m wrong with any of this since you know mina better.” he nods in agreement. “i think siwoo was target number one. she thought because he’s the heir to a sizable company, that he would be a good sugar daddy to land, but he was already taken by a smart, beautiful, kind, and insanely funny woman that turned out to be way too good for him.” he grins at you. “and because too many people have eyes on his finances—mommy, daddy… and me but only because i started snooping—”

joshua snorts, looking down at his lap when he thinks of the things you’re pushed to do when a man is making you feel insecure. it’s not fitting for you and he hates it.

“—he probably couldn’t give mina as much money as she was expecting. but she thought she’d keep him around in case there was ever an opportunity to go full-time with him,” you theorize. you turn your phone back to you, swiping to the next account. “minhyuk.”

joshua looks up and rolls his eyes when he sees an account full of shirtless photos of the man he met in mina’s apartment. “yeah. minhyuk.”

“he lives about 30 minutes from mina’s apartment in the opposite direction of siwoo, putting them about an hour away from each other,” you inform him.

“how the hell do you know that?”

you smile slyly. “i have my ways.” when he keeps staring at you, you roll your eyes. “his full name is on his instagram so i looked him up on linkedin and facebook, and the latter had photos of him moving into his apartment, okay? kids nowadays don’t care about internet safety; it’s not rocket science, shua. anyway,” you point back to the screenshot of his account, trying to redirect his attention, “that’s a healthy enough distance that she probably felt safe dating these two. on top of that, minhyuk is a pilot for korean airlines—did you know they can make up to 300 million won a year? absolutely rich enough to warrant mina’s attention.”

joshua has to admit that maybe he should reconsider what he thinks is rich versus what is comfortable if 300 million won was impressive to you.

“so mina snatches him up, knowing it won’t be much of a time commitment since he’ll constantly be flying all over the place,” you explain. “then, we have…” you swipe and sigh, shaking your head. “this guy.”

joshua narrows his eyes at the screen where he’s met with the account of a man he’s never seen before. he’s very tatted, with a kind face and a nice smile, and if his photos are any indication, he works out just as hard as minhyuk apparently does. 

“and who is this?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“boyfriend number three,” you say a little uncomfortably. “jeon jungkook.”

joshua grunts but says nothing, so you continue.

“before you ask how i found him, i went through all of the people mina follows on instagram, and—”

“her profile is private,” joshua points out.

“that’s what burner accounts are for,” you respond.

“she approved aggretsuko’s request to follow her…?”

you smile. “no, silly, i followed her from my believable burner. aggretsuko is more just for being able to blindly like and follow whatever and whoever i want to. i have a fake account featuring a fake person with a fake life and fake followers. she let that one follow her.”

“i should really stop questioning you. you’re obviously very capable at this whole revenge thing.”

“yeah, the sooner you do that, the faster our conversations will be. so i went through all the accounts she follows, which thankfully aren’t many because the bitch likes having a skinny mini following to follower ratio.” 

joshua shakes his head at your name-calling but fights off a smile anyway.

“i picked out every man—again, not many because she was probably mindful of them being able to see each other’s accounts—and i looked up their occupations on linkedin and if they made a good salary, they made the cut. from there, i just heavily cyberstalked them until i had no choice but to rule them out, or in jungkook’s case, until i found something incriminating.”

he doesn’t bother asking because he can see you get a kick out of explaining this to him.

“a photo of him and mina at a romantic dinner, dated a year and a half ago.”

“before me.”

you nod. “yup. jungkook is an investment banker, aka basically a bank, period, to mina. and seeing as the korean stock exchange is based in busan, he’s constantly flying between there and here for work—”

“making him another good candidate for a boyfriend since he wouldn’t demand a lot of her time.”

you nod and point at him. “exactly! which brings us to boyfriend #4.” you put your phone on the table and gesture at him. “you.”

he nods. “me.”

you tilt your head at him. “honestly, i couldn’t figure out what it was that made mina choose you.”

he scoffs. “wow.”

“no, don’t get me wrong,” you say, shaking your head calmly. “you’re a fucking catch—leagues better than any of these guys as far as i can tell.” he feels his cheeks get hot. “but that’s why i couldn’t figure it out. mina digs her claws into these rich, kinda vain, kinda power-hungry men, and then she found you, and you’re yes, rich, but also kind, sweet, caring, and all of the other good words in the dictionary.”

the heat spreading across his face grows exponentially warmer. 

“therefore, i concluded that mina chose you to be her real boyfriend.” 

joshua frowns. 

“doesn’t it make sense? she chooses guys who are either romantically unavailable or physically unavailable, so she still has all this time on her hands. the girl is evil but she’s also human so she craved an actual partner. she chose you.”

it sounds like it should be a compliment, but joshua feels even more repulsed by the idea that three just wasn’t enough for her. she really went out of her way to find him and torment him when she had more than enough to go around.

“this is the kind of greed the bible warned us about,” joshua mutters under his breath, mostly to himself. you hear it though, and the sound of your laugh immediately makes him smile back at you.

“yeah, mina is definitely a warning sign from god.”

“wish i listened.”

you give him a smile. “eh, where’s the fun in that?”

he knows you’re just trying to make him feel better but that you probably don’t believe that. he hasn’t forgotten what you were like the first night you met—how you cried and drank so miserably. still, you somehow found it in yourself to joke around like this. it makes him stop moping.

“okay,” he says, nodding and leaning forward with renewed vigor. “so she’s really good at time management. now what?”

you laugh. “she doesn’t need to be good at time management because i learned that mina doesn’t even fucking work, bro.”

the information is jarring enough that he doesn’t fully register what you call him. “what?”

“i called the company you mentioned her working for and pretended to be a recruiter calling for a reference, and they said no one by that name has ever worked there,” you report. “i think she’s making her living off her boyfriends. which is why i said that she only needed you to pay for dates. the others are funding her whole life.”

“oh my god, i hate her,” he says plainly as he thinks of all the “overtime” she had to clock in and the “business trips” she went on and the never-ending complaints about a boss that didn’t even exist. “what kind of fucking sociopath…”

you nod solemnly. “it at least makes our job easier; all we have to do is cut her from her money source.”

“the boyfriends.”

you hum affirmatively. “you and minhyuk are already done, so we just need to get siwoo and jungkook to cut her off. but now that she’s suddenly out two streams of income, i’m sure she’ll be really laying it on thick with those two to make up for it. we’ll have to be a bit creative.”

the craziest, most intrusive thought enters joshua’s head and in the next second, it’s exiting his mouth. “mingyu returns this weekend.”

you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic but you don’t comment on it. “mingyu, the man you kept accusing me of being when i first messaged you?” you ask, sneering at the mere mention of his name. “that mingyu?”

he nods. “yup. there’s always been three of us: me, jeonghan, mingyu. he’s been traveling and he comes back in a few days.”

“okay… and what exactly does that have to do with ruining mina’s life?”

joshua grins, feeling excitement bubbling in his stomach. “kim mingyu, y/n, is rich. and not just comfortable—actually rich. as in rich enough for mina to drop all her boyfriends and quit scouting rich guys for the rest of her life if she had reason to think he was willing to fully support her.”

“does she not know what one of your best friends looks like…?” you question, making the most judgmental face joshua thinks he’s ever seen. he snickers.

“nope,” he says, popping the p. “mingyu’s been gone for the entirety of our relationship, traveling all over the place, so she never met him and his social media presence is equivalent to your aggretsuko account—for looking, not posting. all he does online is try to prank me.” he laughs more fully now, shaking his head at how perfect it is. “he’s a bored trust fund baby who knows how to act. he’s going to love doing this.”

your mouth drops open in awe, staying there for several seconds before you realize you haven’t said anything. “well,” you mutter, a smile very slowly beginning to spread across your face, “if you say he’s rich, then he must be absolutely rolling in it. and if he’s rolling in it—”

“then mina’s going to take the bait.”

you grin widely now, leaning forward onto the coffee table and shaking your head. “you, joshua hong, are so much more diabolical than you let on.”

he smirks. “learning from the best.”

“oh, she is so over.”

a/n: thanks for your patience! i'm afraid i will require more of it as i continue getting used to my new schedule LOL (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment here or send me an ask! if you requested to be on the list but weren’t tagged in this post or the reblog, it’s bc you don’t have an age indicator on your page. pls add that (and lmk that you did) if you want to be tagged next time.

part three teaser

"i really lost myself in this, y'know?" you whisper, head tilting up at the sky like maybe you'll find whatever it is you think you lost up there in the never-ending black. 

joshua follows your gaze. “i don’t think you lost anything. i think it’s all still there.”

“how would you know? you didn’t know who i was before siwoo changed every aspect of me and my life,” you remind him like he needs to be reminded at all. every day, he found himself thinking about what life would be like if he had met you before siwoo had. he doesn’t need the reminder.

“i know because there’s no way any part of you that’s here with me right now is because of siwoo,” he tells you confidently. “you’re so… funny and smart and confident and reliable and cool. and you want me to believe any of that is because of siwoo?”

that gets him a small smile. “careful or i’ll start to think you have a favorable opinion of me.”

he snorts. “if you don’t already think that, i’m probably not being a good enough friend.”

joshua looks down when you press your shoulder against his. the breeze blows strands of hair into your face, and he suppresses the desire to tuck them behind your ear. “you’re a great friend. probably the greatest i’ve made in my adult life.”

he nods. “you too. all of you—every version of you before, during, and after siwoo. i like them all. even the ones i never got to meet."

"you're so..." you start but never finish.

"hmm?"

"nothing," you say. "thanks."

"for?"

"saying all of those nice things."

"pfft, don't get too big-headed about it," he says, trying to play it cool. you smile. "i just can't stand the idea that you think any part of who you are today is due to an idiot like siwoo."

you sigh and rest your head against his shoulder. he has to actively try to keep his body relaxed when you do. “did you know that the name siwoo means divine intervention?”

joshua shakes his head. “i didn’t.”

“divine intervention,” you repeat, scoffing this time. “like, yeah. he definitely intervened and derailed my whole life, that’s for sure. i have no idea where the fuck ‘divine’ comes from, though.”

“are you sure you didn’t misread it and it’s actually disturbing intervention?”

you laugh and slap his arm softly. “what does joshua mean?” you ask after a few moments of silence.

“uh,” he squints as he tries to remember what his mom told him, “salvation, i think.”

you suddenly lift your head up off his shoulder and look at him, eyes narrowing a little as you very closely and openly study his face. he feels self-conscious, a feeling he seems to have gotten used to around you.

“salvation…” it sounds like you’re testing the word on your tongue. you scan his face for something he doesn’t have the composure to ask about right now. no, his composure is nowhere to be found as your gaze rakes every centimeter of every feature of his face, taking your time like you're simultaneously trying to understand him and committing him to memory. “huh" is all you say when you're done.

“what?” he asks quietly, resisting the urge to pass a hand over his face in case there’s something on it. 

“nothing,” you say, face relaxing one again. you smile a little, and even with the lessened intensity, your stare is starting to feel like it’s burning a hole right through him. “it’s just… fitting. joshua. salvation.”

and why exactly would that be fitting?

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It must’ve been around two months ago now that you first saw Seoyeon wandering around Rainy Days Arcade curiously. She was alone, but she seemed content that way, with her headphones on and eyes roaming over the various games on offer to play.

Though, over the weeks following her first visit, you realised that she never had company, never tried to talk to the other teens her own age, and avoided the ones wearing the same school uniform as her. After two weeks of watching the lonely girl play on her own with barely a twitch of her lips when she won, she finally removed her headphones; you took the chance to talk to her and invite her to play a game with you.

To your joy, the day after you first spoke to her, she removed her headphones after spotting you a few games away. You took it for the invitation it was to join her, learn her name, and earn a few smiles that grew brighter with each round played.

Ever since then, Seoyeon has come out of her shell a lot. She still doesn’t talk to the other teens, but she does always find you out, and even happily talks to the other staff members of Rainy Days Arcade. Still, it’s clear you’re her favourite. Especially since the day that you pointed out that you are friends, after she admitted that she struggles to make friends and hasn’t befriended a single person at her new school despite a month of classes passing.

So now, you’re two months into being the best friend of a sweetheart of a shy 14-year-old girl, and only just realising that her dad is the single most attractive person you have ever laid eyes on.

Of course, you don’t blame her for not mentioning it; you can’t imagine anyone would ever call their own dad a DILF. But you still would’ve liked the heads up so that you can mentally prepare for the day Lee Seokmin first steps foot into the arcade and proves himself to be the man of your wettest and wildest dreams.

Honestly, you would probably find that very first moment you spot one another comical if you had been witnessing it and not starring in it.

For the past ten minutes, you and Seoyeon have been bothering Skater at the prize desk, where the young man has been trying to line up the new plushies on the shelf in the exact way you and Seoyeon instruct him. You’re pretty sure he can tell that you two are just messing with him and that you really don’t care how precisely the toys are displayed; but he’s always so placid and willing to do whatever you want, especially when you’re giggling away. He just keeps glancing over his shoulder at you with a dopily smitten smile and asks if he’s got it right yet.

Honestly, he probably had it right the very first second that he plopped the items down, but this innocent mischief is entertaining Seoyeon, and you really do love seeing her happy, so the façade continues.

Though, the second you naturally glance across the arcade to check that everything is still going as smoothly as last time you looked, you find a literal god on earth walking towards you. Seriously, there’s a glow behind him and ethereal music playing the second you lock your eyes on him. Granted, it’s probably coming from the mythical themed game he’s passing, but the timing is too perfect to dismiss.

He's looking around the arcade as he walks— clearly searching for someone— yet the instant his gaze lands on you, he stops in his tracks, and his eyes grow wide.

That music picks up, turns a little deeper, faster. The soft white blush blends into a sultry red halo of temptation around him. The world around you stops existing and you feel yourself drawn to this man so strongly that you take a step without thinking.

And then,

“Dad?”

All at once, the arcade bursts back to life around you. He’s no longer lit up and staring at you, but just another man— albeit a ridiculously gorgeous one— turning to smile at his daughter. Who happens to be right at your side.

“Hi, Snowdrop!” the man greets, brightening as he nears, attention on his daughter as you stare at Seoyeon with thinly veiled betrayal at her breaking the bestie code and hiding a hot guy from you.

You have to remind yourself that she is that hot guy’s teenage daughter pretty quickly, so that you can look like a normal human being when he looks at you with a polite, friendly smile and little wave, making you realise that Seoyeon is introducing you.

“This is Sunflower,” she says, motioning to you and you notice his eyes widen in shock, but she ignores him. “Sunflower, this is my dad, Lee Seokmin.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you say, offering your hand and internally melting as his strong, yet still gentle, hand clasps yours in an instinctive handshake.

“Yeah, you–you too,” he responds, leaning back as you reluctantly loosen your grip and end the polite greeting. “I uhm, sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I really thought Sunflower was a same-aged friend. Seoyeon never said that you’re…not.”

“Sorry, that’s probably weird, huh? A 28-year-old befriending your 14-year-old,” you respond with a wince, entirely understanding how creepy it probably seems.

“28,” he chokes out, eyes widening further.

“Yeah…”

“There a problem, man?” Skater, bless his heart, asks from behind the counter as he leans on it with the stern expression he only breaks out when customers are being a pain in the ass picking their prizes. “Sunflower is a sweetheart and has been looking out for your kid while you’re off being too busy to be a parent.”

“Skater!” you scold, turning to give him a warning look that he only shrugs at before straightening, crossing his arms over his chest, and clearly unwilling to apologise or take his words back. Honestly, you can’t blame him.

For two months, Seoyeon has spent hours at the arcade. She arrives every day after school and leaves hours later when you watch her get on the bus to head home so that you know she’s left safely. And on the weekends, she often spends whole days at the arcade; enough that you make sure you always work weekends now just in case she does turn up, so that you can keep her company— even if you know the other staff would keep an eye on her. You just feel protective of the girl and want to do your best to make her feel less alone.

“No, he’s right,” Seokmin says. “I work a lot, probably too much, but I’m working on it,” he says. “It’s a new town for us, so I’ve been setting up, letting people know that I’m a reliable choice, so I’ve not been the best father I could be lately. That’s going to change.” He looks at Seoyeon as he says this, eyes and voice so sincere that even though he’s not talking to you, you can’t help but believe him. “I promise, Snowdrop, I’ll make more time to be with you.”

To your relief, Seoyeon smiles and moves forward to hug her dad right there, careless of who sees. You know that she loves her dad; she’s mentioned him a few times and always sounds fond and happy, so you know he can’t be a bad guy, not really. But you had been worried that she was putting on a brave face, or that she gave him more praise than he deserved— considering how much time she’s with you and not him. Yet seeing the pair so easily and lovingly embrace like this, it’s clear that it’s not unusual, and Seokmin has raised his daughter to not be afraid to show affection without shame.

The father-daughter duo breaks the hug, but he keeps his arm around her shoulders, suit pulling tight over his raised bicep and you can’t help but wonder what you’ve got to do to get those big, beefy arms wrapped around you instead.

“Thank you for looking out for Seoyeon, Sunflower,” Seokmin says, but you only snap your eyes and attention away from his bulging arms when you hear your work name said. He’s smiling at you softly, looking very grateful, which turns a little bashful when you smile back, unable to remain straight-faced when he’s smiling at you. You think anyone who doesn’t smile back at him is probably a psychopath. “I really appreciate it, and I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong or have bad intentions. She’s mentioned you a lot; told me how kind you are and how you always make a point of talking to anyone who looks lonely here. I was just…surprised. I really did think you were closer to her age…not…28.”

“Well, I am,” you respond, not sure what else to say.

“You’re here so much with my daughter that your own family must be really missing you at home!” he says quickly, some guilt shining in his big eyes.

“My family?” you question. “I live alone.”

“Oh…sorry,” he gives you a sheepish, embarrassed smile, and scratches his neck with his free hand, the other mindlessly tapping his daughter’s shoulder where it rests. “I just…I thought I had Seoyeon late, and I was 28, so I guess I always assume people have started their families by that age.”

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “No, no kids for me at the moment. Maybe if I find the right person, but it’s not something I’m looking for or anything.”

“Ah, okay. That’s cool! To each their own!” he declares with a smile.

“Did you come to play, dad?” Seoyeon prompts, realising the topic is over and she can talk without being rude by interrupting.

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I finished work early, so I thought we could go out for dinner tonight?” he suggests once he’s looking at his daughter, who nods enthusiastically with a smile to match. As Seokmin beams back at her, you can’t help but notice the similarities in how bright they both are; the way their eyes sparkle in reflection of one another. It’s adorable.

Seoyeon darts around the prize desk to grab her school bag from where she always stows it out of the way under the desk. Unlike with all the staff members— except you— Skater never complains when she takes up some of his snack shelf, as he calls it; just smiles and lets her put her trust in him to guard over her belongings.

Even now, he just smiles at her and pats her on the shoulder in his usual friendly manner as she passes him. “See ya tomorrow, Bud,” he says.

“See you tomorrow, Skater,” Seoyeon responds. “See you tomorrow, Sunflower!”

“See you tomorrow, Bud,” you respond, earning a confused look from Seokmin. “Nice to meet you, Seokmin, come by more often. We’ll show you a good time,” you can’t help but inject a little suggestive edge to your words and judging by the way Seokmin stumbles slightly as his daughter tugs him away, he doesn’t miss it. He glances at you in slight alarm, then smiles shyly, waves, and quickly rushes after Seoyeon before her pulling makes him fall flat on his face.

“Damn, you got a thing for older guys for real,” Skater comments with a whistle from behind you as you lean back on the counter with a dreamy sigh, admiring Seokmin’s ass in his perfectly tailored trousers as he leaves the arcade. “He’s literally the same age as my dad.”

“Maybe you should’ve introduced me to your dad,” you tease, grinning over your shoulder at Skater.

“Pretty sure his wife would not approve of that,” he deadpans.

“Ah, the wicked stepmother,” you respond with an understanding hum. He makes a noise back, clearly disapproving of his father’s choice in wife. “He only married her last year; I’ve known you for four years now, Skate, I could’ve taken her place by now. Wouldn’t you like to call me mommy?” you coo, leaning over to pinch his cheek.

“God, not in that way,” he responds shamelessly, making you laugh as you push away from the counter. “You gonna bone Bud’s dad?”

“I’m gonna fucking try.”

“What’s the game plan?”

“Get his attention, get his dick,” you summarise. Skater just laughs. “Alright, back to work; those plushies aren’t going to display themselves.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Kinky fucker.”

Honestly, when you said to Skater that your first step in your game plan for getting Seokmin into your bed is “get his attention”, you really had no fucking idea how to achieve that. Despite the father-daughter duo having moved to town a little over two months ago, you haven’t once seen them anywhere but the arcade, and Seokmin only once.

Really, you were probably a little over ambitious with your plan. You probably should’ve added a research section where you subtly ask Seoyeon about her dad and where you can coincidentally bump into him— without her present— to not so subtly flirt with him.

Or at him, you’re not sure yet if he’d retaliate; he seemed more stunned than anything with your parting comment last time. You have no idea if his staring was because he had just found that his daughter’s new bestie isn’t a fellow teen but a grown ass woman, or if he likes what he sees of this grown ass woman. You’re hoping for the later, but not willing to hold your breath about it.

Regardless, you didn’t factor that into the game plan and even now, days later and after days of spending time with Seoyeon, you don’t amend your plan to include that step. As much as you would love to get your hands— and mouth, and entire body— on her dad, you respect the girl too much to use her like that. So, you just carry on like normal and pray for some god-like intervention to help you initiate level 1 of your game plan.

When you glance over your shoulder and notice Seokmin approaching you and Seoyeon, you think you may have to start praying more often, especially if this man is the god you’re praying to. You’d happily get on your knees to worship him any day.

“Hey,” he greets from a few metres away, smiling at you, and waves a little. You lift one hand from the plastic gun in your hands to wave back.

“Ha! Got ya!” Seoyeon cheers, making you turn to look at the screen and find that yes, Seoyeon has eliminated your avatar with a very effective headshot. You can’t even be mad about it; it’s a good shot. But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to play on it.

“Hey! No fair!” you complain, putting down the controller as she does the same with hers, docking them securely so that they don’t fall.

“You should’ve been paying attention,” she sasses, then giggles when you gawp at her.

“Are you playing nicely, Snowdrop?” Seokmin teases as he stops a few feet away, making Seoyeon turn and beam at him.

“Always!” she insists. “Are we going for dinner again? It’s a bit early,” she realises, face falling. “Do I have to leave?”

“Actually, I was thinking you could show me around and we can play some of your favourite games before heading off,” Seokmin responds, making Seoyeon light up.

“Yeah!” she enthuses and grabs Seokmin’s arm to start pulling him to one side of the arcade. “Let’s start over here, there’s so many cool games! You’ll love some of the prizes too.” Seokmin shoots you a little smile as he obligingly lets his daughter drag him across the building, getting lost from your sight amongst the consoles and lights, but you don’t mind. Not when Seoyeon looks happier than she ever has now that her dad’s joined her.

“Damn, tough luck,” Skater says, appearing behind you, making you jolt in surprise then turn to flick his upper arm, making him snicker.

“Have you just turned up?” you question, well aware that you haven’t seen or heard of Skater yet today until now, and Dip has been covering him at the prize desk all afternoon.

“Hit a pothole,” he explains, lifting his arm which, now high enough, you can see has a bandage wrapped around it. “It was nasty.”

“Gross,” you comment at the thought of how he must’ve messed up his arm on the road when he fell off his skateboard. Again. The guy spends more time on the floor than actually riding it, but he’s determined. Even if you’ve known him for four years– since he started working at Rainy Days Arcade— and he has only recently managed to figure out how to turn his skateboard without toppling right off. The poor, directionally and balance challenged fool.

“Yep. I did message the chat, but you never check it, so, not my fault, boss.”

“You guys talk so much fucking shit in there,” you defend with a groan as you both turn and head to the prize desk so that he can stow his skateboard— still clutched in his unbandaged arm— and relieve Dip from the cover. “It’s supposed to be work related.”

“How many people Sandman has bored to fuck in a day is work related,” he insists.

“Yeah, and why is Noodle in it? He doesn’t even work here.”

“He’s an honorary member!” Skater defends as he circles around the desk to prop his board up on the holder that you had installed on the back wall when he kept tripping over the board every time he had to move around. He really is a walking safety hazard.

“Who is?” Dip asks as she gets up from the stool, pushing herself up off of the counter she’s leaning against as if her entire body is heavy. Judging by the glassy look in her eyes, it probably does feel that way, but you know she’ll never shirk her duties regardless of how high she is. And at least she never smokes around work hours, only takes edibles, so she thankfully doesn’t come in smelling of it, because then there would be a serious problem. You’d hate to fire her for making the place reek of weed; she’s always the first to step up when customers cause issue. You think she probably enjoys kicking people out far too much for such a chill woman, but still, you don’t mind.

“Noodle,” you answer.

“Ah, they’re a package deal at this point, Flower; you know this,” Dip points out as she leans against your shoulder. “You smell good, that a new perfume?”

“Yeah, MD saw it in the store a few days ago and made her mums buy it for me, because it’s a sunflower bottle.”

“Aww, she’s so cute,” Dip coos and you can’t help but nod in empathic agreement. Your little cousin is the cutest little shit going. “When’s she coming ‘round next? I miss her.”

“Doc’s gotta come fix the table that asshole broke the other day,” Skater reminds, pointing to his right, to the wall that leads to the snack bar attached— though technically in another unit— with an archway further down the wall to let customers pass between. And also lets the scents of all the fried foods and sweet snacks waft through, enticing customers, but also staff.

“Mm, reminds me, I’m hungry. He better have made up a fresh batch of ‘slaw or I’ll cry,” she says, already toddling off to the snack bar, knowing that although you are their boss, you really don’t care if they eat or drink on shift— so long as they still do their jobs and don’t make a mess, of course.

“Where is your conjoined bestie, anyway?” you wonder, glancing around as if Noodle will pop up from behind one of the machines any second. It’s happened before.

“Probably getting cursed out by Frenchie for bringing another instant noodle pot into the kitchen and making him boil water for him,” Skater muses, once again motioning to the separating wall, in between neatening the boxes in the glass display case under the counter you’re leaning on.

“Makes sense,” you respond then pat the counter before pushing away from it. “Let me know if your arm plays up; I’ve got painkillers in the office.”

“I know.” Skater chuckles, looking at you amusedly. “Just say you’re making excuses to take me back there.”

“Ha, you wish,” you scoff.

“Yeah, I really do.” You just laugh, fondly rolling your eyes at his complete lack of shame about his ongoing crush on you, before you walk off to do the rounds; to make sure the customers are happy, and everything is running smoothly.

To your utter joy, it’s only two days before you see Seokmin, god of your libido, again.

It’s Sunday, and although Seoyeon had arrived an hour ago on her own, she had announced that her dad would be by once he’s done with his usual Sunday morning chores. She had also warned that it probably wouldn’t be until the afternoon, because he is really particular about the laundry cycle, and how to clean the kitchen.

Yet he steps into the arcade and immediately finds the pair of you only an hour after his daughter arrives. “Snowdrop!”

“Dad?” she baulks, turning to look at him in surprise; you take the chance to knock out her character. “Sunflower!” she whines as he hears the KO announcement and turns to look at you in betrayed disbelief.

“What? You should’ve been paying attention,” you retort sassily, reflecting her words from the other day back at her. She gawps at you, though breaks into giggles when you theatrically flip your hair over your shoulder, especially as it’s tied up in a half-hearted bun so there are only some wispy strands even hanging down to flip. You giggle along with her then take a step back. “I’ll let you two have your peace. You know where I’ll be if you need me for anything.”

“Why do you say that as if you’re ever in one place long?” Seoyeon deadpans. “You’re always wandering around.”

“I’ve got a lot of energy, okay,” you defend and glance at Seokmin, finding him smiling happily, seeming to enjoy witnessing you and his daughter interacting so playfully. “Anyway, if you need my stamina, come find me,” you finalise, making sure to lock your gaze with Seokmin’s suddenly wide eyes before you turn and head off.

You barely manage to make it a few games away before a regular customer, a kid barely 6-years-old— who turns up a couple of times a week with his teen sibling— pops up in front of you with the usual grin he always wears when he spots you. Without a word, you sweep him up into your arms, making him giggle madly; he happily bounces through the air as you carry him over to his favourite racing game to keep him occupied and safe until his sibling is ready to leave.

Although there are signs around the arcade stating that all children under 13 must always be accompanied by someone over 16— signs all of the staff adamantly stand by—, there are some exceptions to the rule. You had once confronted the boy’s sibling, only to quickly notice how drained the teen was, and you just knew that they already have enough on their plate. Ever since then, you make sure to feed the pair and play free babysitter for a couple hours a week to give the teen a break.

And honestly, even if you spend an hour straight sitting on that plastic chair until your ass goes numb, so long as the boy is innocently laughing away on your lap as he purposely veers off course, you’re happy to do it.

Rainy Days Arcade was started those decades back with the sole purpose of giving people a happy place to be and just forget about all the shit life throws at them, especially on rainy days when the outside world can feel a little sadder. You’re always so proud that even now, even when most people have game consoles in the comfort of their own homes, your family’s business can still do exactly what it was made to do.

“You know, I’m starting to think your plan might be working,” Skater comments one evening as the two of you lean against the prize counter, sharing a basket of Frenchie’s infamous dirty fries.

“Hm?” you respond, eyes glancing over the arcade yet inevitably returning to where Seoyeon and Seokmin are playing a game together. The man is clearly not at all experienced or skilled at any of the arcade games; he consistently loses with sulky pouts that shouldn’t be so cute on a 42-year-old man, though they always quickly morph into smiles upon seeing his daughter’s joy at winning.

“Bud’s dad,” Skater says, vaguely motioning with a floppy couple of fries towards the pair before abruptly leaning forward to shove the fries into his mouth before the topping can slip off onto the glass counter. “He keeps looking at you,” he informs around the food in his mouth.

“Heathen,” you say, giving Skater a disgusted look, which grows when he opens his mouth to show you his partially chewed food. “Gross!” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder while he laughs, though thankfully, with his mouth shut.

“His seduction techniques leave a lot to be desired,” Noodle’s voice suddenly announces, making you both look over the counter to find the young man standing there, helping himself to the fries as if he’s been present for ages already. You hadn’t even heard him approach, but at this point, you’re used to him appearing like some weird, noodle-obsessed entity and only react to slap his hand away when he reaches for more. “Hey,” he complains, pouting at you. “You’re sharing with him.” He points to Skater as if they’re not best friends and have been— you’re pretty sure— since they learned to crawl.

“I’m her favourite,” Skater declares.

“He dropped his burger, I pity him,” you correct and Noodle hums in understanding, picking up his pot of freshly steaming instant noodles from the counter to mix them and test if they’re done. As if the guy doesn’t know the precise cooking times for every single brand of instant noodles at this point.

“How’s your plan going?” Noodle asks a moment later as he leans back against the counter while he eats, eyes quickly finding Seoyeon and her dad— the pair now on a different game. “He’s wearing tighter trousers today.”

“I noticed,” you say with a dreamy sigh as you lean down onto the counter, resting your chin in your palms. “I want to bite his thighs, Nood.”

“Really fucking weird you call him nude,” Skater mutters. You both ignore him.

“They’re huge. Think he’d give me work-out tips?” Noodle asks, looking down at his own thighs.

You lean forward to peer over the counter down at his denim clad legs. “Your thighs are already big,” you comment before leaning back.

“No, keep leaning over the counter,” Skater argues in a whine, making you look over your shoulder at him, not at all surprised to find his eyes on your ass. “Noodle, do some squats, get her to lean over again.”

“You want to fuck her and you’re trying to get her to check me out?” Noodle deadpans, making Skater look up at his best friend as if he hadn’t even considered that. Noodle snorts a laugh then turns back around to look over the arcade as he eats.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to get me to check out your best friend, Skate,” you tease, turning to face him better and leaning one elbow on the counter. Skater blinks at you kind of dumbly, still looking surprised at his accidental encouragement. “Don’t you want to fuck me anymore, Skater?”

“Don’t say such stupid things,” he retorts, snapping back to reality to look at you with such an offended expression that you burst into giggles. “Can I record your giggles and put it as my alarm? I’ll wake up happy then,” he asks, already reaching for his phone.

“God, you’re such a freak,” Noodle comments without turning around.

Instead of answering Skater, you grab a final couple of fries then walk off with amusement pulling your lips up.

“Sunflower!” Seoyeon’s voice makes you abruptly turn and head towards her instead of going to the snack bar to get a drink.

“What’s up, Bud?” you ask as you near the girl and her dad.

“The prize is stuck,” she says with a pout, pointing at the keyring stuck in the chute of the penny machine they’ve been playing.

“Go get a new one from Skater, this one’ll smell like pennies,” you say, even as you unhook the bundle of keys from your belt.

“Do I have to get the exact same one?” she wonders, making you give her a questioning look while your fingers flick through the keys to find the correct one without looking— you’ve been doing this for so long that you know all of the keys by touch alone at this point, it’s a skill you’re rather proud of. “Dad likes the sunflower one better than the tulip,” she informs, pointing into the neighbouring machine to where the little sunflower keyring lays close to the moving shelf on top of the pennies, too far away from the chute to be worth trying.

“Mm, sure,” you consent. Seoyeon grins, then bounces over to the prize counter while you focus on unlocking the glass door.

“I uhm, thanks, for agreeing,” Seokmin says, making you glance at him and find him standing close on your right, not touching but you know it wouldn’t take much of an adjustment to brush your ass against him if you turn slightly. But you don’t. Even if you want to. “Sunflowers have always been my favourite flower.”

“I’m taking that as a personal compliment,” you joke with a wink then reach into the machine to free the stuck keyring and place it back on the pennies, before locking the door back into place.

“Ah…yeah,” he chuckles softly, sounding a little awkward and when you look at him, he looks endearingly shy, eyes diverted aside as he mindlessly plays with his earlobe. “Are they your favourite too? Seoyeon told me all staff go by a nickname here, but she doesn’t know the story behind any of them because she’s never asked.”

“No, well, I do love them, but I love all flowers; my mum raised me with a love and appreciation for all plants,” you answer as you lock the door back into place before straightening up.

“Then why are you called Sunflower? And not…Daisy or something?” he wonders, tilting his head a little as he looks at you curiously.

“When I was little, I always followed my uncle around. He was the one who ran the arcade then and he went by Sunshine, because he was always so bright and happy. I looked up to him in every way; always turned to him when he was near like a sunflower to the sun, so Sunflower came easily.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet,” Seokmin says, smiling in a way that makes your chest warm. He looks so endeared by the little story, eyes soft and tender. It’s dangerous for your heart and you suddenly want to change his expression before he gains the attention of your heart as well as your libido.

“It’s probably the only name with a deeper meaning,” you announce with a little grin as you lean against the machine behind you. “Skater got his name because he always has a skateboard, and he can’t ride it for shit.” Seokmin chokes on a laugh he tries to hold back. “It’s okay, you can laugh; he’s not shy about that at all and will admit to the root of his workname to anyone who asks.”

With your assurance, Seokmin lets himself laugh, lips lifting into a smile that makes you think your heart may get involved no matter how hard you try to stop it.

To try to counteract the fact Seokmin has started to ruin you with his smile every time he visits the arcade to spend time with his daughter, you decide to try harder to seduce the fuck out of the man. Then hopefully fuck him and stop your heart racing whenever your eyes meet in the middle of neon lights that would make anyone else look atrocious, but not Lee Seokmin.

Though, of course, you need to be subtle enough that Seoyeon doesn’t catch on, but obvious enough that Seokmin can’t ignore you or miss your hints. Which means you gradually start wearing slightly tighter clothes, lower necklines, and bend in his eyeline to give him the best view you possibly can without presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat in the middle of your family’s arcade.

Sometimes, you notice his eyes lingering on you a fraction darker than his usual gaze, but it never lasts, and he doesn’t make any kind of move or sign otherwise that he’s interested.

Thankfully, you have Skater to encourage you to step up your game, even if the guy would much rather your efforts be turned to him, but he’s far too much of a respectful dude to ever push his own wishes on anyone, especially like this.

“Do it,” Skater says, nudging you away from where you’re both leaning against an out-of-order game in wait for your aunt to arrive to fix it. You’re both in view of the prize desk so Skater can easily see if someone approaches in need of his assistance, but he’s more interested in talking to you than standing alone. Jelly already sent him away from the back office when he tried to convince her to play a fifth round of rock, paper, scissors with him to pass time.

“Bud is literally right there,” you point out in deadpan, motioning to where Seoyeon is standing and watching her dad repeatedly get destroyed in the single-player game he’s been determinedly trying to beat the level of for the past half an hour.

“I’ll distract her,” Skater offers, making you look at him suspiciously.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Can’t a guy want to help his friend get the DILF she’s been thirsting over for the past month?” he asks innocently, even rounding his eyes out. You look at him flatly, not buying his act. He quickly gives and sidles closer to you, playfully tugging on your fingers. “Come to the movie with us after shift?” he requests with a cute grin that you know he doesn’t even need to try hard to put on. The fucker is actually very attractive; if he was older and not your employee, you probably would’ve been interested in him. But he’s 22 and you sign his paycheck, so you have zero interest in him.

“That’s what you want? Me to join your and Nood’s movie date?”

“Yeah! You haven’t gone with us in ages,” he complains, pouting at you. “And he’s bringing someone he met at his dance club, so I’ll be third wheeling.”

“Are you tricking me into a double date?”

“Ew, gross, no, why would I want to date you?” he retorts, making you gasp offendedly and backhand his shoulder. He sniggers and grabs your hand to lightly swing between the two of you; you just let him, not at all opposed to the harmless affection from your friend. “You know I’d never stoop so low as to trick you into dating me. I want it to be real if it ever happens. But I’ll definitely tell everyone you let me put my hand up your shirt in the backrow.” He laughs when you shove him hard enough that he stumbles aside. “Kidding! I’ll say you offered but I said no, and-”

“She’s going to fire you one day,” your aunt— known as Doc for the fact she makes the arcade better when something goes wrong— comments as she approaches from your left, making you look over and grin at her.

“She loves me too much,” Skater responds cheekily. “No Mini-Doc today?” he asks, pouting a little at the lack of your cousin following behind her mum like usual.

“She’s with her mama, doing something I’m apparently not allowed to know,” Doc says, rolling her eyes but she’s smiling fondly, so full of love for her wife and daughter. 

“That sucks, haven’t seen MD in a while,” he admits. “Miss the little cutie.”

“She’s really into How It’s Made at the minute, so she’s been binge watching it lately, plus any show that’s remotely similar,” Doc muses as he nudges you aside to kneel in front of the machine and access the panel after placing her tool bag on the floor at her side within easy reach.

“If I didn’t know she’s adopted, I’d say she very clearly has your blood in her,” you respond, making your aunt huff a laugh while nodding in agreement.

“Oof, your DILF lost again,” Skater comments, making you look over to Seokmin and find him frowning defeatedly at the screen while Seoyeon consolingly pats his arm, then laughs when he stubbornly puts another coin into the machine to restart the game.

“Your what?” Doc sputters, half laughing and half utterly bewildered.

“Sunflower wants Bud’s dad.”

“Right…and Bud is who, exactly?”

“Oh right, you’ve not been around when she’s here,” Skater responds, humming in understanding. “Bud’s that girl over there, her name’s Seoyeon; Flower befriended her like a month ago and she’s a chill kid. We all like her and she’s almost always here after school and on weekends. Her dad joins now.”

“And you want a man with a teen?” your aunt asks, looking up at you questioningly. You look at her and make a face, shrugging. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s really hot,” you state.

Doc looks over at Seokmin consideringly then nods in agreement before turning back to the machine to begin looking inside now that she’s got the panel off, shining a little torch within to light up the inside. “How old is he?”

“42.”

Doc baulks at you. “He’s only 11 years younger than me! That’s 14 years older than you!”

“She likes older guys,” Skater says solemnly.

“You really don’t ever have a chance then,” Doc sniggers then turns back to her task while Skater makes a wounded sound that only makes her snicker again. “Now, both of you get lost so I can focus.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Skater agrees and flings his arm around your shoulders to walk with you over to the father-daughter duo without discussion. “Hey, Bud; hey, Bud’s dad.”

“Hey,” Seokmin responds, glancing over quickly; though upon noticing you, his gaze lingers, catching on the young man’s arm around your shoulders before he smiles at you with less enthusiasm than usual and focuses back on his game.

“While it’s quiet, wanna rematch?” Skater says to Seoyeon, motioning with his free hand over to the basketball hoops. Seoyeon nods enthusiastically and starts to leave but Seokmin makes a betrayed little sound that makes her step back to him.

“You’re leaving me to face this alone?” he asks, frowning at her shortly then looks back at the screen, only to die for the umpteenth time tonight. “Dammit.”

“You know, I’m an expert at this game,” you say, moving closer and making Skater’s arm drop off of your shoulders. Seokmin glances at the retreating limb, then Skater and Seoyeon as they race over to the basketball game before he looks at you properly.

“You’re an expert?” he questions, not doubting you, just curious.

“Mm, I’ve played pretty much every game in here to completion many times, and this particular one has a few little tricks I can teach you. If you’re willing to play with me.”

“I…yeah, I’m willing,” he agrees, voice a little quieter and he nods in agreement.

“It’s the third round you get stuck on, right?” you ask, moving closer to the machine, and Seokmin, to put one of the many coins you keep in the pouch around your hips into the slot, then physically place his hands on the buttons and joystick.

Seokmin yelps and quickly starts to play before he can die less than a second into the game. “Yeah, third round. Probably very lame to you, right?” he chuckles a little self-depreciatively.

“No. Everyone has to start somewhere,” you reassure, gently laying a supportive hand on his arm and resisting the temptation to appreciatively squeeze the strong muscle of his bicep you can feel even without him flexing.

As Seokmin works his way through the first two rounds, you stand close to his side, watching the screen with him while giving him tips on how to get a higher score and keep more lives as he goes.

“Please don’t judge me too harshly if I cry with frustration when I die again,” he requests as the third round loads up. You giggle amusedly and he smiles at you a little too long, long enough that his character almost dies. He yelps when you do upon noticing the danger on screen, then his hands quickly work to save his character. “I always die on this next bit.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a like, real fucking awkward thing you need to do to clear it easily without going around and taking even longer.”

“You can go around?!” he baulks.

You laugh, nodding. “Here, let me help, it’s too late to avoid it,” you offer as a genius idea forms in your brain. Seokmin makes a curious noise, starting to move his hands but you quickly slip under his arm closest to you to stand directly in front of him with your back to his chest and your hands over his to guide his movements on the controls.

Even though his hands move easily under your touch, you know he tensed as soon as you situated yourself in the small gap between his body and the machine. You’re so close that your hips are almost pressed against it, and his initially brushed your ass, but he moved back slightly. To your great disappointment.

“Are you looking, Mr. Lee?” you ask playfully, leaning back against his chest to allow him to easier see over your shoulder at the buttons. And by buttons you do mean the game buttons, but also the open button of your shirt allowing an incredible view of your cleavage from his vantage point. You really hope he’s taking the chance to look; you chose an uncomfortable push-up bra today just because you hoped he’d enjoy how great it makes your boobs look.

“H-huh?” he responds. “Uhm, ye-yeah, yeah, I’m…looking,” he says, and you feel him shift behind you.

For a split, heart wrenching second, you think he’s going to put more distance between you, but then he subtly presses closer to you and his arms pull in slightly, loosely caging your torso. You think you could be convinced to bend over the machine right here and now and lift your skirt if he asked. You know he won’t, but damn, are you considering how much power he must have in those thick thighs brushing against the back of yours.

It takes everything in you to not screech with excitement at his actions; the silent confirmation that he’s into this, you. You really want to immediately press your ass back against him, but you think that would spook the guy considering that the past weeks of your increasing seductions have only just proved fruitful.

Although you’re more than a little distracted by the feeling of his strong body behind you and his large, warm hands under your own— making you wonder what they’d feel like elsewhere— you diligently guide him through the level until the screen flickers as his character progresses to the next round.

“Yes!” he exclaims excitedly behind you, even bouncing once in his joy and rubbing his body against yours unintentionally—while you wish it’s intentional, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Thank you, Sunflower.”

“You’re welcome,” you say as you slip out from between his arms, making him let out an alarmed little sound.

“Wait, come back,” he requests a little desperately, eyes darting between you and the game as he tries to work through the level, but his character has already died. “See, I can’t do it without you,” he says, landing a pout on you that makes your heart swell in your chest, dangerously threatening to press through your ribs like a cartoon character in its want to reach the man before you.

Clearly, the only option here is to quickly turn things around and wipe that cute pout from his face before he can do real damage. “Oh, I’m sure you can use your fingers in the exact right way,” you coo, making his pout melt away as his eyebrows lift slightly, eyes widening, and posture straightening out of his slightly sulky pout; the suggestion in your words causing him to rise in height, and to the occasion— you’d like to imagine.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice pitched a little lower, quieter; just for the two of you despite the bustle of the arcade around you.

You hum and offer a coin from your pouch. “It’s your turn to do it alone now,” you say as he takes the coin from your fingers, in no rush and letting his skin drag against yours as his gaze remains locked with yours. “Show me what you’ve learned, daddy.” Immediately, Seokmin freezes and his lips pop open, the slight darkness to his gaze abruptly lifting with shock at your words. You just smirk and let your fingers brush his once more before you lower your hand and lean against the machine in wait.

It takes a few long seconds before Seokmin snaps back to reality, swallows thickly with a few subtle nods, and then turns to the machine to slide the coin into the slot with slightly trembling fingers before they find their place on the controls.

With nothing but utter determination on his features, jaw deliciously defined as he clenches it in intense focus, Seokmin flies through not only the first three levels, but the following two, dying at a particularly tricky spot. Though instead of looking defeated or pouting again, he looks at you with big, round eyes; looking so fucking endearing that you don’t have a hope in sweet hell of stopping the racing of your heart.

“Did I do good?” he asks, so soft and innocent, so precious, which only grows when you nod, finding yourself unable to even form a single syllable right now, not when he’s thrown you for such a loop. He beams so bright and proud. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you manage to mumble out quietly as he straightens and turns to you, looking so happy to be standing before you like this that you know that you’re absolutely fucked; and not in the way you intended. Although you’d still love to be railed within an inch of your life by Lee Seokmin, you also want to hold his warm hands and spend your time making him smile.

“So, the crane machines,” he says, motioning vaguely across the arcade without looking— in the complete wrong direction of the mentioned machines. “Do you have any tricks for those? Seoyeon has her eye on a rabbit plushie, and I’d earn World’s Best Dad if I surprise her with it,” he says with a chuckle around an almost cheeky grin.

“I think you already have it,” you respond without thought, making the man’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, before he looks aside with a shy blush, one hand tugging bashfully on his earlobe as he smiles a little dopily at the floor. “I know some tricks,” you say, making him look back up at you.

Once you’ve led him over to the crane machines— in the correct direction— Seokmin finds the one he needs, and ushers you closer to point out the toy he wants through the glass. When you nod and let him know that you can help him nab it, he lights up and excitedly collects the right number of coins from his pocket to slot into the machine.

Then, to your heart-skipping surprise, he puts one hand on the machine over the buttons, though doesn’t grab the joystick yet and instead looks at you and motions to the space in front of him in invitation, smile still on his face.

As you slot yourself between him and the machine, settling your hands over his once his left is on the joystick, you decide to no longer chase after this man for his body— though you definitely still want that— but for his heart too. It feels right to be tucked up against his chest with his arms around you and mouth murmuring near your ear, joy in his tone as you successfully grasp the right toy.

Right here and now, you decide that you need to adjust your two-step plan. You’re pretty confident that you’ve gained his attention, so part one is complete, but everything after that needs to change with your new goal in mind. Now, there’s something important that you need to do before you can even attempt to make a romantic move on the man, and it’s something you’re determined to do right.

“Earn his trust?” Skater repeats the words you just said to him as you meet outside of work— something you haven’t done in some weeks now.

It’s a weekend, and although you both usually work, you know Seoyeon has gone on a little weekend trip with her dad, so you decided to take the time off. Skater had decided to also take the weekend off and make you go to the mall with him; he hates going alone and doesn’t trust anyone but Noodle and you to actually help him not look like a giant fool where his fashion is concerned.

It’s probably a very misplaced trust, honestly, because he’s currently wearing a neon green hoodie and a tie-dyed beanie combo he's just purchased, and both you and Noodle haven’t told him how ridiculous it is. Then again, he somehow pulls it off, so you think he could probably buy anything and look good. It’s highly unfair.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he carries on, while you continue to eye his outfit with a slight pout, wishing you could just throw on whatever and look half as good as him. Noodle is doing similarly from your right, but he’s more obvious in his displeasure at his best friend’s effortless style. You know it took Noodle twenty minutes to pick his jeans this morning, because you and Skater had been sitting outside of his apartment in your car for at least that long. But at this point, you’re both used to waiting for him.

“It means that if I want a chance with him past getting freaky in the sheets, then I need to show him that I’m worth his time. That he can rely on me; not just for him, but his daughter too. He’s a father first, daddy second,” you declare.

Both young men look at you in disgust that just makes you cackle a little before nudging them along in the line for the noodle bar that Noodle always makes the three of you eat at when you visit the mall. As if you didn’t eat here last night before going to the cinema with them and Noodle’s new dance club bestie— who insisted on being called Tiger, seeing as you all have your own nicknames, and his eyes sparkled too much in excitement at the thought for you to not go along with it.

“Ignoring that last part, I think you’ve got a good point,” Noodle says, nodding in agreement as his eyes dart between you and the line to make sure he doesn’t lose his place and risk his favourite noodles selling out before he can claim any for himself. “But surely, he already trusts you with Bud? You’ve been watching over her like every day for over a month now.”

“As a friend figure, sure. I just play games with her and keep her occupied, but I need to prove than I can be more than that. I can help her with homework; she’s told me she struggles a lot, and he’s often too busy with work that she doesn’t want to bother him. And I can drop her home sometimes. We exchanged numbers yesterday for Seoyeon’s sake, so I could definitely text him and say I can drive her home so he can go straight home and start dinner or take the chance to relax because she’s with me and I will look after her.”

“Wait, you exchanged numbers?” Skater questions, and you nod.

“For Seoyeon.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“She literally has her own phone; she can just text you herself. You don’t need to swap numbers with him for her sake,” he points out in a deadpan tone with the expression to match.

“Look, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for that reason, he’d have never suggested it; don’t ruin this for me, Skate,” you say, pouting slightly, though your eyebrows are furrowed a little sternly. He just holds his hands up, palms to you in defence, and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

At least for a few minutes until you’re almost at the front of the line.

“You should send him a nude,” he says then turns his head to look at you with big, serious eyes. “But send it to me first so I can give approval.”

In sync, you and Noodle shove Skater out of the line while he cackles, so pleased with himself. At least until you both refuse to let him back in the line and he whines all the way to the back.

Sometimes, the littlest victories taste so sweet. Or freshly cooked, while the loser gets the soggy, scraped from the bottom portion. Delicious.

You put your new plan into place the very first day you see Seoyeon after concocting it. As per usual, you ask her about school, and when she complains about the history project that she was told about today and only has two weeks to complete amongst all her other homework, you take her to the snack bar, sit at a table with her, and have her walk you through every piece of homework she currently has on her plate.

To your surprise, Seoyeon doesn’t argue at all, she seems enthusiastic about gaining help and doesn’t hesitate to listen attentively and obediently follow your guidance. Of course, it’s been some years since you were in school, and you definitely can’t recall having to learn all these topics, but those you can at least remember a little, you do your best to help her with.

Slowly, you manage to work through homework for two subjects— with the internet to fill in the gaps in your knowledge— before deciding the rest can wait, and she deserves to play some games.

While she’s putting away everything— after you’ve taken photos of the topics you want to do some research on to help her better tomorrow— the familiar, godly figure of Seokmin approaches, looking a little puzzled as he nears, yet still smiling.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with your bookbag here, Snowdrop,” he muses, alerting his daughter to his presence.

Seoyeon beams at her dad. “Sunflower helped me with my homework!”

“Oh, really?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised as he turns his entire focus to you, making you feel like you’ve melted a little into the seat under his sole attention. “You really helped her?”

“Yeah. She’s here so much that she can’t realistically have time to do it once she gets home, and I’d hate for her to get behind and get in trouble. I thought we could make this a regular thing; get some homework done before gaming,” you say with a shrug, trying to play it off when your heart is skipping over itself in worry that the man might immediately shut this down and say you’re overstepping. If he does that, you know that you’ll never have a chance with him really, and the thought makes your chest ache.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, looking a little guilty. “You have your own work to be doing; besides, it’s my job as her dad to do those things. I should really be doing it, but I’ve been focused on work and then just spending time with her, and I don’t want to force her to do homework because I know it sucks, and I–”

“Dad, you’re spiralling,” Seoyeon says, making Seokmin cut off and look down at the table as embarrassment colours his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, getting up as Seoyeon finishes packing up, so that you can put a gentle hand on Seokmin’s arm, not even paying note to his strength for once; you’re more interested in soothing the man. Your plans really have changed where he’s concerned. “You don’t need to be sorry, Seokmin,” you assure softly. He looks at you without much moving his head, mostly looking at you endearingly through his lashes. It makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy to help her. I really like spending time with your daughter; I come to work just to see her and spend time with her sometimes. I’m really more than happy to do my best to assist her with her homework, honest.”

“Oh…” he stares at you consideringly for a moment then lets out a breath and straightens to his natural posture, less slumped and curled in on himself in shame, and more confident, taller; shoulders back but still relaxed. He lifts one hand to place it over yours on his arm and gives you a grateful, tender kind of smile as he squeezes your hand slightly. “Thank you, Sunflower, I really appreciate everything you do for Seoyeon. She really deserves it.”

“Mm, she does. And so do you. If you need help, you can always text me and I’ll do my best.”

“I couldn’t ask you to–”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” you correct, voice firm and no-nonsense, yet still gentle in the way you hope to always be for him. Safety and comfort rolled into one. “You’re allowed to have someone to rely on too, Seokmin.”

“I…I am,” he agrees, nodding. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile and remove your hand to turn and look at Seoyeon, who’s standing beside the table with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and a strange, considering look on her face as she looks at you and her dad. “What’s the face?”

“I was born with it,” she retorts.

“Hey! That’s my line!” you exclaim, reaching out to prod her, making her giggle before she links her arm with yours and leads you through to the arcade with Seokmin following close behind you both, with a content smile on his face that you fail to notice the fondness in.

“We have to play a round before I go,” Seoyeon insists, leading you to the same game that the two of you always play a round on every single day she visits the arcade. It’s pretty much tradition at this point, so you don’t argue and just slip the coins into the slot and start playing, always so happy to get the privilege of spending time with the girl like this.

Over the past two weeks, it really has become typical for you to drive Seoyeon home from the arcade after school— once you’ve completed some homework and played a few rounds together, of course.

Almost every single school day, you’ve driven her home to give Seokmin time to get home without rush, get started on dinner, and do chores that can’t wait until the weekend. He still stops by sometimes, but he always texts you first to let you know that he plans to pick Seoyeon up himself, so that you don’t take her home while he’s on the way to the arcade.

Unfortunately, it’s the only reason he texts you, but you’ve kind of deluded yourself into thinking of it as some kind of co-parenting thing. You know it’s not, but it makes your heart flutter to think of it that way— even if you know, if anything, you’re just a voluntary babysitter.

Still, despite dropping the teen off for the past two weeks, you’ve never been inside her house until today. Seoyeon’s never invited you in because it hadn’t been the point of driving her home, and you’re always perfectly okay with that and expect nothing else.

Today, however, Seoyeon arrives at the arcade after school looking miserable, and you quickly realise that she’s got a cold, so you insist on taking her home so that she can rest. It goes to show how bad she feels that she doesn’t argue at all and just quietly waits at the prize desk for you to be ready, while holding the plushie Skater had given her for comfort as soon as you told him she’s ill.

Of course, you text Seokmin to let him know, and also ask permission to go inside and watch over her until he’s home before heading off. Instead of texting back, he calls five minutes later when you’re driving, so Seoyeon puts your phone on speaker for you.

“Hey, I’m driving right now, so you’re on speaker,” you announce in greeting, always wanting to be upfront with others if the call is audible to others; you’d want the same basic respect to be granted to you, after all.

“Ah, okay. Thank you for driving Seoyeon home,” Seokmin replies, voice a little quiet and low, as if he’s trying not to be heard by other people; you assume he’s with clients and has stepped out to call you quickly in private. “I’ll try to finish up here quickly and get home; you probably have to get back to work yourself and–”

“Nope. I’m done for the day now. I have no plans but to make sure Seoyeon is tucked up at home resting. Do you mind if I make some soup?”

“Oh…you’d really do that?”

“Of course. I’m great at soup!”

“I’d really appreciate that, Sunflower. Use whatever you need and let me know if you need me to pick up anything on the way home. We should have meds, but I’m not sure if there’s that many. We probably need more.”

“I’ll text you anything you’re low on and she needs.”

“Great. Thank you,” he says, letting out a big, grateful exhale. “I owe you big time.”

“Nah, it’s just what friends do, right?”

“I guess so,” he hums before his tone turns softer, even sweeter. “Sweetheart, do you want me to pick up anything on the way home?”  For a split, utterly delusional moment, you think he’s still talking to you, but then you quickly remind yourself to rein in the wishful thinking and face the reality that he’s talking to his daughter, not you.

“Ice cream?” Seoyeon requests a little hoarsely, making you frown sympathetically. “My throat hurts.”

“Okay, Snowdrop; ice cream, and honey tea,” Seokmin decides, making Seoyeon whine in complaint. “I know you don’t like honey tea, but it’s good for your throat.” Seoyeon doesn’t respond, just pouts, and you assume he must know that she’s likely to do that because he doesn’t wait long for a response, knowing he won’t gain one. “My meeting is scheduled for another almost two hours, I’m afraid. But I will get through it as quick as possible and be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Seoyeon croaks. “See you soon.”

“Mm, see you soon. Rest lots and be good for Sunflower.”

“She always is,” you assure. “Don’t worry about Seoyeon; I’ve got this. You focus on your meeting and get back when you can. We’ll be waiting, so will soup.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I look forward to seeing you both, and soup, of course.”

After a final round of farewells, the call ends and you finish the drive in a calm quiet.

As soon as you and Seoyeon step into the Lee house, you send her off to get into comfy pyjamas. Once you’ve watched her trek up the stairs— to make sure she doesn’t fall down them in her groggy state— you familiarise yourself with the ground floor of the house, then head the kitchen to get started on making— what you hope— will be the most healing soup Seoyeon has ever consumed. You genuinely hate seeing her so under the weather like this; it makes your heart ache and fills you with the urge to do whatever you can to make her feel even a little bit better.

When Seoyeon joins you again, she’s dressed in pyjamas so soft and cosy that you immediately ask her where she got them so that you can get yourself a pair, earning an amused, though snuffy giggle.

“Feeling a bit more human now you’re in cosy clothes, not your uniform?” you ask, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead so that you can feel her temperature, while your other hand stirs the contents of the pan on the hob before you, even if your eyes are on her.

“Bit,” she agrees with a nod.

“I found meds,” you inform, removing your hand from her warm skin to point to the counter behind you. Seoyeon automatically looks over, then toddles the few steps to obediently take the medication laid out for her beside a glass of water. “And I text your dad to pick up some more, and orange juice. I always get a craving for oranges when I’m ill, and juice is easier than chewing when your noise is stuffy.”

“Dad always gives me orange juice when I’m ill, for the vitamin c.”

“Great minds think alike,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at the teen, making her laugh, though break into a few coughs that makes you frown in sympathy. “Why don’t you go get all snug on the sofa? Put on a movie and I’ll join you soon.”

“Oh…Can…Can we watch Toy Story?” she requests shyly, making you tilt your head slightly in question. “Just…it’s…We always watch it when one of us are ill; it’s kind of tradition.”

“Oh. Don’t you want to wait for your dad?” Seoyeon’s face falls a little. “I’m happy to watch it, seriously; I love that movie. But I don’t want to take something special from you if it’s something you do with your dad, Bud.”

“Ah, I suppose,” she agrees quietly, nodding in understanding. “Do you have a movie you watch when you’re ill?”

“Beauty and The Beast,” you answer without hesitation.

“I’m going to watch that,” she decides with another nod, then turns and toddles into the living room with her glass of water before you can say anything in response. Not that you have anything to say, just a smile full of fondness for the girl on your face even as you turn back to cooking.

It’s a little more than two hours since ending the phone call with Seokmin that he enters the house, rustling with the bags in his hands, and calling out to say he’s home, concern in his voice.

“In here!” Seoyeon calls back, sounding a fair amount better now that she’s had some meds, soup, and dozed against your shoulder for the last half an hour of Beauty and the Beast. She’s much more alert now yet still tucked up against you and seeming more than content to remain as she is. Honestly, you don’t want to move either; it’s far too nice.

“Oh,” Seokmin says as he steps into view, both shopping bags in one hand and expression turning soft as it lands on the two of you. “You two look…” he doesn’t finish his words, but his smile somehow grows a little more tender. “I’ll put this away, make your tea, and then–”

“I can do it,” you offer, beginning to remove your arm from around Seoyeon, unaware that she’s pouting as you do, your attention on Seokmin. “I’ll handle that and you can go get out of your work clothes.”

“No, no, you stay there,” Seokmin insists, waving his hands at you. “You both look comfy and I refuse to let you move. Stay,” he demands, pointing at you and looking suddenly stern in a way you hadn’t even thought his features could grow, voice firm and no-nonsense.

Obediently, you settle back into place, eyes a little wide and you’re pretty sure very obvious that you’re a little…into being told what to do by the man. Seokmin’s head tilts almost imperceptibly as he considers your reaction before his lips tilt into a hint of a smirk. He doesn’t say or do anything more before turning and going to the kitchen.

“Will you stay to watch Toy Story with us?” Seoyeon requests as she begins to search for the movie on the streaming app on the TV.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, turning your head just enough to look at her. She nods, still looking at the TV. “Then of course I’ll stay.” Seoyeon looks at you, smiling so genuinely happy at your agreement that you know you’ll never be able to reject her requests to spend time together, not when you know it makes her eyes shine like this.

A little under twenty minutes later, Seokmin is back, dressed in his own comfy pyjamas, hair damp, and skin shiny and tinted red from the quick shower he just had to wash the day of work away. He’s got a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other, which he hands to Seoyeon. The teen groans in complaint, but she begrudgingly accepts the mug to sip at the contents while her dad sits on her right side, an amused little smile on his face from her reaction.

“How you feeling now, Snowdrop?” Seokmin asks as he settles comfortably in his place, pulling his bowl closer and gently stirring the steaming contents within. Your stomach warms strangely as you realise that he’s about to try your cooking for the first time; you hope he likes it and will let you cook for him again one day.

“Better than earlier, still not great,” Seoyeon answers honestly, lips protruding into a displeased pout above her mug. You notice Seokmin’s expression match it despite the fact he’s not even looking at her, upset because his daughter is, and it makes you smile to yourself to see the care— and similarities— between the father-daughter duo.

“I’ll get you some ice-cream after I’ve eaten this.”

“It’s really good; Sunflower’s a really good cook.”

“It smells delicious,” Seokmin enthuses, eyes glued to the soup and looking far more excited than anyone should be about a very basic vegetable soup. Both you and Seoyeon watch as he blows on his first spoonful carefully before tentatively putting it in his mouth, cautious of the heat. It takes a second for him to register the food in his mouth properly before he makes a pleased, enthusiastic hum of a sound and dives in for more. “It is really good. You’ll have to give me the recipe, Sunflower.”

“I just threw things together,” you admit with a soft laugh, which grows when he levels you a surprised look.

“No secret family recipe?” he questions, tone light and playful.

“If it was a secret family recipe, I couldn’t exactly tell you, could I?” you joke back with a grin.

“Ah, I suppose not,” he agrees with a laugh. “Unless I adopt you.” Immediately, your expression twists in disgust and his smile drops. “Hey! I’m a great dad!”

“I’m aware,” you respond, nodding a little. “I just really do not want that at all. Plus, you’re not that much older than me!” you point out.

“I’m 14 years older than you,” he deadpans. “Over a decade.”

“And? That means nothing.”

Seokmin’s expression does something odd now; turns considering with a hint of something you can’t name but really wish you could. It feels important and you can’t help but hold his gaze as you try to figure it out, aware that his eyes are growing more intense with every passing moment and thought flicking behind them.

If it wasn’t for Seoyeon speaking up after a few moments, you get the feeling neither you nor Seokmin would’ve looked away, and that intensity would’ve only grown to something you really hope to experience one day— just preferably when his daughter isn’t literally sitting right between you.

“Can we watch Toy Story now?” she asks, looking between you and her dad with big eyes.

Seokmin immediately drags his gaze away from you and looks down into the space between you to smile obligingly at his daughter. “Of course, Snowdrop.”

The three of you get comfy facing the TV and settle down to fulfil a Lee house ill-day tradition. You hope that it’s only the start of being invited to join family traditions with the pair. You’d really like that.

Thankfully, Seoyeon isn’t ill for long, but she does pass it on to her dad, so you take up driving her home straight from school the few days Seokmin is curled up in bed fighting the bug. Although he had tried to insist he can still cook and look after the house on the first day, you had promptly ordered him back to bed, put dinner on to cook, then went out to get more meds as he hadn’t anticipated getting ill himself when he bought them for Seoyeon a handful of days before he fell ill. 

Seokmin doesn’t seem to mind that you take up spending the evenings in his living room with Seoyeon— doing your best to help her with homework. Then again, he doesn’t surface past the first time you sent him swiftly back to bed upon seeing his red nose and watery eyes. You do, however, make sure to send Seoyeon up to check on him routinely. You’d do it yourself, but you think that’s probably a step too far, and then he’d definitely kick you out for entering his private room uninvited.

It's Sunday by the time you see Seokmin again, when he joins you and Seoyeon in the kitchen as you both try to figure out how to work the mini candyfloss machine that you bought on a whim at the supermarket that morning while stocking up on groceries for both households.

“What’s that?” Seokmin asks, drawing both of your attention. He’s standing at the kitchen doorway, looking almost like the man you’re used to. You know, other than the fact he’s in a plain white t-shirt and shorts of all things. Thankfully, he’s focused on the machine on the counter as he nears, because your own focus is a lot lower, stuck to his gloriously thick thighs and wondering if maybe you’re the ill one now and this is some kind of fever induced hallucination. Those thighs cannot be real.

“Candyfloss machine,” Seoyeon answers, flapping the manual in his direction, making him pluck it from her fingers to begin to read the page she has it open on. “The instructions are worded really weird.”

“Mm, they are,” he agrees, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to focus, and yet still, you’re gawping at his thighs.

Somehow, the father-daughter duo doesn’t notice your obvious staring of the man’s delicious thighs, and you manage to snap out of your horny-daze all on your own.

Between the three of you, you manage to decode the ridiculous manual and produce three wild— and wildly pathetic— sticks of candyfloss. There’s more of the treat covering the machine, counters, and the three of you than the sticks, but you’re all laughing, and although you know this will be quite the clean up, you don’t care. You’re already planning to search online for different coloured and flavoured sugars to try next week with the hope of making the pair look as happy as they do right now.

Honestly, now that Seokmin and Seoyeon are both back to full health and there’s no reason for you to spend so much time at their house, you keep expecting Seokmin to politely tell you to fuck off home. You know Seoyeon won’t, because she’s always so happy to have you around; both to just hang out, and because since you’ve started to do homework with her, she’s been less behind at school and doesn’t struggle as much.

Yet every time you drive Seoyeon home on days Seokmin doesn’t pick her up— or join her at the arcade if it’s a weekend—, she still invites you in and you’re still there hours later. You only leave when she’s gone off to bed and you’ve finished cleaning up whatever the two of you have used, and Seokmin always walks you to the door.

Tonight is no different; Seoyeon went up to bed ten minutes ago and now you’re finishing cleaning the kitchen counters so that Seokmin doesn’t have to do it. Though he’s right behind you, loading the last dishes into the dishwasher. It’s so fucking domestic it makes you want to scream. But in a good way. And kind of a horny way. But mostly a wholesome, yearning sort of way.

“You know, Seoyeon’s teacher called me today,” Seokmin starts, making you immediately drop the cloth in your hand to spin and look at him. He’s already leaning back against the counter and facing you; arms crossed casually across his chest and a little smile on his face. It makes you relax, understanding that it can’t be bad if he’s still got that natural little smile he always wears on his face.

“Is that normal? Random calls?” you ask, still a little worried though, because you’re always worried about Seoyeon where her schooling is concerned. You know she really struggles with most of her lessons except creative ones. She excels in art, but everything else isn’t easy for her and the school only helps so much.

Seoyeon still doesn’t have any friends either and you worry she is isolated socially. Though she has mentioned a few classmates a handful of times, but you know she doesn’t consider them friends, just nicer classmates who are willing to talk to her and work with her despite her being at the bottom of the class academically. At the very least, she doesn’t seem to get picked on for being quiet and behind compared to the rest of the class. Still, you always worry that one day she’ll come home in tears and admit she’s been hiding it, or that things have changed for the worst.

Seokmin nods in answer to your question. “She’s still the newest student, and well, you know she struggles academically and hasn’t really made any friends, so the staff keep a close eye on her.”

“Ah, I see. I’m glad they care enough to do that.”

“Me too,” he agrees, smile lifting a little more. “It’s a really good school; supportive and everything about these things. They just don’t have the staff to give her more focus to help with her studies, and I don’t want to make her go to catch up clubs; I know she’d hate them.”

“She would. I think you’re doing the right thing by her, even if the school probably tries to guilt you into thinking otherwise.”

“Oh, you do?” His tone softens and his arms unfold to slide down to hang by his sides as he looks at you in a touched kind of way. You nod. “Thank you, that means a lot to me. They have bugged me about sending her to clubs, and even changing her to a different class, but then she’d be with younger students and held back a year and I really don’t want her to go through that. Especially not now that she’s settled and gotten used to her classmates and routine.”

“She’d be right back where she started.”

He hums and nods. “Exactly. I’m really glad you agree and I have your support with this. And that Seoyeon does too. That’s actually what the call was about.”

You give him a bewildered look and point to yourself. “Me? It was about me?”

“Well, technically, yes,” he confirms with a chuckle. “More like how much better Seoyeon is doing lately. Ever since you started to do homework with her, she’s picked up a lot more. Her classwork is improving and she’s more confident now; she raised her hand for the first time today to ask a question! She’s never asked for clarification before, especially not in front of the whole class.”

“Oh, she did?” you ask, lifting your hands to press one against your suddenly warm heart. Hearing that the shy, anxious girl felt brave enough to push past her fear of drawing attention to her struggles really makes your chest feel so full.

You know it’s a little thing to most, something that a lot of kids start doing in their first years of school, but you’re so proud of Seoyeon that you wish she was still downstairs so that you could give her a giant hug. You know bringing attention to her act could potentially lead to her retreating and not raising her hand in class again, so you wouldn’t mention it, just hold her and hopefully silently let her know how much you care about her.

“That… I really want to hug her right now,” you admit, making Seokmin laugh softly. “I’m so proud of her.”

“I get it, I want to squeeze her and smother her in praise, but it’s probably better to not mention it in case she gets embarrassed about her teacher calling me to say that.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” you agree. “I’m going to have to squeeze a pillow when I get home instead.”

“Or…” Seokmin says, suddenly talking quieter, almost timid as he pushes off of the counter and takes a step towards you. “You can hug me?” he offers, giving you a shy smile as he opens his arms to the side a little in invitation.

“Hug you?” you repeat dumbly, staring up at him with big, surprised eyes.

He nods a little jerkily. “If–if you want to. If you’re comfort–” before he’s even finished, you step forward into his space. It’s Seokmin’s eyes that widen now. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to accept his offer. Though he doesn’t move away, doesn’t take it back, so you move even closer and carefully wrap your arms around his waist. A little stiltedly, Seokmin’s arms close around you, enveloping your body in a warmth and comfort you never want to let go of.

You really don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to be held by Seokmin, so you decide to take full advantage of the moment and tuck up against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and just enjoy it while you can.

When Seokmin moves, you’re expecting him to let go, to remove your arms from him and politely tell you that he’s not comfortable with that kind of affection from you; that you’ve gone too far, and he would like it if you don’t touch him again. As much as you don’t want him to say any of that— even knowing he’d be so fucking gentle and considerate about it, because that’s just the kind of man he is— you’re as ready for it as you can be; ready to remove your arms and kiss goodbye to any miniscule chance of getting to ever kiss him.

What you aren’t ready for, however, is for Seokmin’s arms to not fall away, but tighten. For him to not step back, but closer. For him to do anything but curl down to rest his head against yours and let out a breath as if he’s been waiting for this moment. For this comfort. You don’t know if he’s just missed having this kind of affection with another adult, or if it’s because it’s you he’s holding in his arms like you belong there, but you let your delusions win out this time and pretend that it’s the second option.

Time ceases to exist, ceases to have meaning as you stand motionlessly in the kitchen holding one another. You think you could be happy doing nothing but this for the rest of your life. But there’s truth to the saying ‘all good things must end’, and slowly, Seokmin’s hold loosens, silently telling you that it’s time to let go now.

The two of you unwind your arms from one another and take a step back to put a more respectable distance between you, though you notice that it’s not as respectable as it could be. Seokmin hasn’t gone far or prompted you to move further, so you lift your gaze to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

There’s something in the air between you, something that slips under your skin and fills your chest, makes your heart race thickly with anticipation and hope.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin’s right arm lift, though you don’t look at it, don’t dare break the locked gaze; it feels too important. Still, you’re so aware of it raising in your peripheral. Of his fingers extending a little. Of him reaching out. Yet, he doesn’t touch.

Seokmin drops his arm just as his fingers are about to brush your cheek, so close that you can already almost feel his touch. He steps back and breaks the eye contact, turning instead back to the dishwasher to turn it on while you can only stare at his back, your chest tight and heart aching.

You make sure to gather yourself and turn before he does, so that you can finish wiping down the side and focus on something other than that it feels like rejection despite the fact you hadn’t done anything.

Like every night, Seokmin walks you to the door when you leave. Like every night, he thanks you for coming over and being so helpful to his little family. Like every night, he remains at the door to watch you get in your car and drive away. But for the first time, you don’t have a content little smile on your face, only a frown as you try to understand what happened tonight.

Sometimes, your parents like to suggest that you should really get some new friends— ones you don’t work with, namely— and you always dismiss the suggestion and assure them that you’re more than content with the friends you do have. However, it’s times like this when you reluctantly think there’s some merit to your parents’ words.

“Forget about him! I’ll adopt a cat and be a DILF instead!” Skater exclaims, waving his beer bottle around where he’s half melded with his favourite beanbag in his apartment— an apartment he shares with Noodle, of course.

You’ve just told the pair what happened the other night with you and Seokmin; how you could’ve sworn he was reaching out to caress your cheek, to lean in and claim your lips for his own. Yet, he didn’t and turned away and if nothing had happened. Of course, nothing had happened, but you really fucking wanted it to.

Noodle is still nibbling on his last slice of pizza like a tipsy little mouse. You can’t tell if he keeps forgetting that he’s in the midst of eating as the three of you talk and joke around, or if he’s just genuinely savouring the fancy, stone baked pizza from the fancy Italian restaurant. At least most of it, because you know that as soon as he’s finished taking his tiny little bites of the middle and topping, he’ll pass the crust to Skater, who will eat it without complaint. You’ve witnessed this very routine many times over the years, but only with this specific restaurant’s pizza, despite the crust genuinely being delicious; part of you has a feeling it’s more to do with the fact that Skater weirdly loves the crust than Noodle not liking it.

“CILF,” Noodle mumbles, making you and Skater glance at him, then crack up at his half dazed, yet semi-serious expression; eyes unfocused as he stares blankly ahead. “Huh?” he asks after blinking himself back to reality and straightening up where he’s sitting cross legged on the other end of the sofa to you.

“You’re so cute, Nood,” you coo, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He just grins at you, then returns to imitating a pizza-loving mouse.

“Back to Bud’s dad being a fucking idiot,” Skater decides, making you both look at him and find him frowning a little. “What kind of a man, no, what kind of a person wouldn’t kiss you given the chance?!”

“Me,” Noodle declares.

“You’re barely a person,” Skater dismisses while waving a hand vaguely. Noodle immediately throws the last of his pizza— essentially just crust now— at his best friend. It thwacks Skater in the face, and both you and Noodle burst into laughter. Instead of retaliating, Skater just takes it as a flying food gift and picks the crust up from where it fell onto his partially reclined torso to shove half of it straight into his mouth.

“He’s right though,” you decide, looking at Noodle, who looks at you in betrayal. “You’re probably like 80% noodle at this point.”

Noodle laughs as he nods. “You’re right.”

“What’s the other 20?” Skater ponders aloud. “At least 18% dance.”

“I think I’m more dance than that,” Noodle offers.

“He’s right,” you agree. “Okay, let’s say…70% noodle, 20% dance, and 10% thighs and ass.”

“Have you been looking at his ass?!” Skater exclaims indignantly while Noodle just cackles away, pleased with your decision and finding his best friend hilarious as he goes on a rant about how it’s unfair that you don’t look at his ass.

You don’t correct Skater that you have— and still do— look at his ass when it’s in your line of sight; you think it’s funnier watching him whine and turn his big babyboy eyes on you as he tries to convince you to check out his ass— and whole body— every time you see him, for the sake of his wounded ego.

The topic of the last time you saw Seokmin doesn’t come up for the rest of the night and part of you regrets it the next morning, because now you’re no closer to figuring out what the fuck happened and what you’re supposed to do about it.

But mostly, you’re just glad you got to spend time with the pair and are reminded exactly why you tell your parents that you’re happy with the friends you have.

Although you don’t want to admit it, you’ve come to understand that you must’ve been wrong about Seokmin’s interest in you. You’ve seen him multiple times since that night in his kitchen, and despite him being his usual friendly self, there’s something that flickers in his eyes when he looks at you. Something that looks hesitant, worried almost, and your chest aches as you consider that he doesn’t know how to act with you now.

You think that either he regrets the tension in his kitchen that night, that he regrets trying to reach out; or he realised in that moment how much you want him, and he hadn’t understood before that you no longer just want to have sex with him. Maybe he only wants meaningless sex, but you’ve ruined it by gaining feelings for him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s trying to figure out how to let you down easy or put a boundary up between you.

As much as Seokmin doesn’t want to hurt you, you don’t want to hurt him either or put him in an uncomfortable position; so, you back off a little.

Of course, you don’t stop spending time with the Lee family. You still drive Seoyeon home a few times a week and stay to help her with her homework and hang out. You still text Seokmin to ask if they need anything from the store while you’re doing your own shopping. You still joke with him and keep a friendly relationship. But that’s as far as you go.

You no longer make suggestive jokes that he doesn’t always catch but always looks at you in slight disbelief when he does, as if he can’t believe you’ve said that. You no longer let your hand linger over his a second too long when passing him items. You no longer look at him with adoration in your gaze and heart beating wildly when you admire him smiling with his daughter.

You’re doing all you can to put a respectable emotional distance between you, to just be his friend. Even if it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. But if that’s what you need to do to be able to remain in the lives of the father-daughter duo for a long time, you’ll do it and hope for nothing more. Even if it hurts.

One night, just as you’re about to leave the Lee house after the usual routine of helping Seokmin clean up, the doorbell rings. Seokmin chuckles as you immediately step backwards from the door, lowering your hand from where you had been inches from grasping the handle, and instead motion him to it.

As he opens the door, you remain behind it out of sight in wait for his visitor to leave so that you can take your own leave. You probably could’ve just stepped out and let him greet his visitor then, but it hadn’t occurred to you until now and Seokmin doesn’t seem bothered that you’re behind the door, so you don’t feel bad about it.

Though you do feel awkward very quickly when you tune into the conversation that you had purposely not paid attention to for privacy’s sake, when you hear him chuckle awkwardly. Now, you can hear that his visitor is a woman and, judging by her tone, she’s flirting and flirting hard.

Curious about the woman— who Seokmin clearly knows judging by how easily they converse, even if he’s awkwardly avoiding the flirtations, much to your relief— you cautiously move aside a little to peer through the gap above the door hinge to get a glimpse of the visitor.

You have to admit, she’s really pretty. The kind of pretty that would look perfectly at place hanging off of one of Seokmin’s strong arms. Visually, the pair really suit each other, they even seem of similar age, and it makes an irrational little flicker of insecurity appear in your chest. Clearly, Seokmin has no interest in this woman— though she doesn’t seem to get the hint— so what hope does that give you if he won’t give this well-matched woman a chance.

Thankfully, Seokmin manages to politely end the conversation shortly, and instead of keeping the door open to let you leave as the woman walks away, he shuts the door and leans his forehead against it with a heavy exhale.

“She’s pretty,” you comment without thought, making him tilt his head to look at you questioningly.

“She is,” he confirms as if it’s simple fact, an easy observation and nothing more than that. Like saying a flower is pretty. Actually, you’ve heard him compliment flowers much more enthusiastically than this.

“She clearly likes you,” you say, wishing you would shut up but unable to stop the words coming out as he straightens and turns to face you properly. “But you…don’t seem interested in her.”

“I’m not,” he says immediately, voice unwavering in a way that almost makes you think he’s making sure you know that. That he has no interest in that woman whatsoever, nor will he. But you don’t let yourself think that. You can’t let that hope return to your chest, even if the hole it left behind those weeks ago aches every time you see him.

“Why not?”

“What?” He frowns at you in bewilderment. “Do I need a specific reason?”

“No, sometimes you just don’t like people and that’s fine,” you assure with a little nod. “I’m just…wondering. Like, haven’t you even entertained the thought of a date with her?”

“No. She’s my neighbour and she’s away for work a lot, and from what she says, it’s often last minute.”

“Oh, you want to know your partner is there.”

“Not for me, well, not really.” He sighs softly then glances at his watch before chewing on his lip nervously while returning his gaze to you. “Do you need to get home right now? Can you stay for a bit?”

“Oh…you want me to stay?” you question surprised.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. It’s…important.”

“Oh, okay,” you agree and remove your shoes to place neatly on the place on the low rack— a place that used to house a spare pair of Seokmin’s dress shoes, but you haven’t seen those in a while and there is always a gap for your shoes now. You try not to think of the potential fact that Seokmin purposely put his shoes away in his room to make space for yours. A space for you.

Seokmin is in the kitchen when you enter the living room, and you can hear the kettle boiling, so you take a seat on the sofa and wait.

Minutes later, Seokmin joins you, placing two mugs down on the coasters still in place on the coffee table from your drinks earlier. His mug has a photo of baby Seoyeon printed on, a little worn with use, but still treasured. Your mug is new, newer than even your presence in the house; it’s dotted with sunflowers and yellow love hearts.

“So, uhm, has Seoyeon ever mentioned her mother?” he asks once he’s settled, leaning his right side against the back of the sofa so that he’s facing you, with his right arm braced on the back rest, and his right leg bent, foot tucked behind his left knee.

“Not once,” you answer honestly. It’s genuinely never occurred to you to question it either; sometimes it’s just better to not ask where missing parents are.

“I’m not surprised, she hasn’t mentioned her for a long time, since she was really little and before she understood what happened. But I just wondered; in case she mentioned something to you. I know she tells you pretty much everything, so it might’ve come up, or maybe you got curious.”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been curious, but it’s not my business. If either of you want me to know, you’ll tell me without being prompted to,” you respond with a shrug.

“I really appreciate that. So many people hear that I’m a single parent and assume her mother died when Seoyeon was young, because obviously, that’s the only reason a mother wouldn’t be around,” he says with a sarcastic note to his voice, rolling his eyes a little too. You hum softly, letting him know that you understand what he means, even if not on a personal level. “She left us,” he says bluntly, making your eyebrows raise a little, more surprised about how he got right to the point. “She suddenly decided that she doesn’t want children when Seoyeon was only 4 months old.”

“What the fuck? She didn’t know that before?” you question flabbergasted.

“That’s the thing,” he says, sighing heavily. “It wasn’t like Seoyeon was a happy little accident; we planned for her. We got married at 22 and agreed to make sure we were completely financially stable before even thinking about extending our family. Then we were, and she said she wasn’t ready. So, we waited, and waited, and one day she told me she was ready. We planned everything; gave her time to be certain before she even stopped taking birth control. She seemed so excited and happy throughout the pregnancy too. I still don’t understand, and I don’t think I ever will, honestly.”

“That must’ve broken your heart,” you comment softly, sympathetically.

“It did,” he confirms with an almost sad little smile, but it doesn’t last, as if he was just being sympathetic to his memories and doesn’t truly hurt over it anymore. “But I wasn’t going to force her to stay. I didn’t want Seoyeon to grow up raised by a mother who doesn’t want her. So, we divorced and I had her sign full custody to me. She has no rights over my daughter and never will.”

“Good, she doesn’t deserve to be in Seoyeon’s life. Seoyeon deserves nothing but the best; to be loved until she bursts with it.”

Seokmin’s lips lift into a soft kind of smile as he nods in agreement to your words, gentle gaze glued to you and making a riot of your heart. “She really does. She always comes first, and I refuse to bring someone into her life who won’t be there for her.”

“Ah,” you say, understanding his lack of interest in his neighbour now. “I get it. I’d want the same for her if I were you.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he says softly, lowering his gaze to find your hands where they’re laid loosely on your lap. His hand on his own lap twitches a little, and for a second, you think he’s going to reach out to take your hand into his hold, but he presses his palm to his thigh and looks back up at you. “She’s never had a mother figure, so I don’t want to ever rush into things with someone if I’m not positive they’ll be around and willing to one day be a kind of mum to her. I wouldn’t expect it right away, of course, but I’m 42, Seoyeon is 14; we’re both too old to not be serious about who I bring into our family.”

“I understand.”

“You do?” He straightens a little and you nod at him.

“Yeah. You both deserve someone who is secure in where they are in life and knows where they want to go too. I…I hope you find that,” you say, wishing you could tell him that you’d be willing to fulfil that role right now, but you don’t want to push him when he needs to be ready on his own to open his heart to you. You don’t know if he ever will be, but that traitorous little hole in your chest fills slightly as a little hope slots back into place.

You hope that you’ve been proving yourself to him; that you’re more than willing to look after Seoyeon and stick around as much as she wants you to, no matter what happens between you and Seokmin. You hope that he understands that, but you’re really not sure and decide to just be patient and wait for the day he lets you know one way or the other.

Before you know it, the summer holidays come around, and you see less of Seoyeon. Due to schools being closed for the holidays and tourists popping up, Rainy Days Arcade faces a much higher level of foot traffic. Which, unfortunately, means that you don’t have as much time while at work to spend with Seoyeon, nor can you leave work early to drive her home.

Although she does still visit, it’s not often and not for long, not wanting to get caught up in the bustle of the arcade— even Skater can’t keep her company at the prize desk, and she gets mistaken for an employee when she sits there so often that she doesn’t want to risk it. You don’t blame her for picking her nice, quiet house over the hectic summer season of the arcade.

Every time you have a day off though— which is rare in the summer— you make sure to call her up to hang out, either at her house, or you’ve taken on going for drives to various places. Sometimes you just spend hours driving, listening to music, and stopping only so she can take photos, or for toilet breaks. You even bought her a travel painting kit, so on days you tell her you’ve packed a picnic, she brings the kit and the two of you sit on a blanket for hours as she contently paints, humming along to the music playing through your Bluetooth speaker.

Even though you know today will be a busy day at the arcade as it’s a Wednesday and they’re always busy, you have the day off. It’s not through choice, but a strict rule at Rainy Days Arcade where no-one can work on their birthday. So, of course, you plan to take advantage of that fact, and after responding to the barrage of birthday wishes in the work group chat, you message Seoyeon to check if she’s busy.

It doesn’t take long for her to excitedly agree to hang out, and add that her dad has today off too, so he can join!

You haven’t really seen much of Seokmin lately, even rarer than Seoyeon, but he does pop by on his own sometimes on his way home from work, to say hi and make sure you’re looking after yourself. You never point out that he can just text you to do that; you like seeing his handsome face too much to ever refuse his presence.

And today is no exception. You respond to Seoyeon just as enthusiastically to let her know you’ve still got to get ready, but you can come pick them up in half an hour. Moments later, she says they’ll come pick you up instead and her dad will drive; at his own insistence so that you can be the passenger princess for once. Thinking of Seokmin calling you princess, even indirectly, makes you giggle dopily before simply agreeing, then you rush off to get showered and dressed.

As soon as you step out of your front door and onto the exterior landing, you spot Seokmin’s car in the parking lot, a level below you. He must spot you too, because as you lock your door, he gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around to the passenger door in wait.

The moment you’re close enough to the car a minute later, Seokmin opens the door with a flourish, bowing at you. “Your carriage awaits,” he says, making you giggle.

“Why, thank you,” you respond with a curtsy, playing along without hesitation, making him grin at you. He offers his hand to help you into the car, then shuts the door and rushes around to the driver’s side as you turn in your seat to greet Seoyeon in the back. She’s already got her camera in her hands and lifts it to take a photo of you. You’re far used to it by now to do anything other than grin at her. When Seokmin is seated, he turns and grins too, making Seoyeon giggle and take a few photos of the both of you cheesing at her from the front seats.

“So, where to?” Seokmin asks once you’re both turned around and strapped in securely, as he starts the car back up.

“East,” Seoyeon declares, earning a questioning look from her dad. “What?”

“That’s very vague,” he points out.

“We rarely have a specific destination in mind when we go on drives,” you explain, making Seokmin hum in understanding and start to drive.

As the car reaches the end of the lot and he has to make a turn, he hesitates. “Do either of you have a compass on you?” he asks, making you and Seoyeon both giggle amusedly.

“Just go right,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees, sending a lick of heat into your stomach as he obeys your directions without hesitation.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s always so obedient; you remember how sweet he looked that day when you taught him how to play the game and he asked if he did a good job. You bet he’d look even better looking up at you from between your thighs as he asks for praise for doing such a good job.

Thankfully— or unfortunately, because it’s a really fucking good mental image—, Seokmin talks again, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality. The reality where he’s driving the car at your side and his daughter is in the backseat behind you both. “Have you eaten? We were thinking of stopping for breakfast pretty quickly. But we can get something to eat in the car.”

“There’s this really good place at the edge of town; On the Edge Café,” you inform. “Have you been?”

“No, but I remember passing it a few times. We can definitely go there.”

“Sound good, Bud?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at Seoyeon, who just nods in agreement. “We have approval,” you announce, making Seokmin chuckle as he smoothly switches lanes ready for the upcoming turn.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” he comments in a thoughtful tone. “I’ve noticed you and the arcade staff all call her Bud. I thought it was just like buddy at first, but it seems more like a standalone nickname.”

“Ah, it’s a bit of both really. It’s short for buddy, yeah, but everyone essentially considers her once of us, minus the working part, of course. Don’t worry, we’re not putting your daughter to work or anything,” you assure jokingly, making him laugh. “Everyone who works there, or is there enough to be one of us, has their own nickname. Seoyeon is Bud both because she’s our precious friend, and because well, she’s still growing and we don’t know what she’ll flower into, but we all know it’ll be beautiful and we’re excited to find out when the day comes.”

“Oh, that’s…she really will flower beautifully, won’t she,” Seokmin agrees in a tone so tender and full of love that even though it’s not directed to you, you can feel it all the same.

After breakfast, Seokmin drives East— or at least heads right as none of you care to actually be accurate about which direction you go— for hours without complaint.

The three of you sing along to the radio and you’re immediately besotted with his singing voice; which is how you find out that he’s been hiding his singing habit. According to Seoyeon, the man is always singing when you’re not around, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy you, while also being out of practise singing around anyone but his daughter, so he had been too shy to sing in front of you. You don’t hesitate to shower him in praise and make him promise to sing around you more, earning the cutest little shy yet pleased smile from the man, matched with prettily pinkened cheeks.

Eventually, Seokmin pulls over to do something on his phone, angling the screen away from you, making you give him a questioning look due to the playful way he’s doing it, making him giggle but he doesn’t show you. You can only look away to hide your dopey ass grin at his fucking adorable giggle.

He hands his phone to Seoyeon behind you and tells her to guide him, then he drives again. Seoyeon diligently follows the directions he must’ve found on his phone until Seokmin is parking in a little dirt parking lot with space for only a dozen cars at most. The lot is nestled just within a mass of trees, and although they don’t block out the summer sun, you can’t really see very far through them.

“Have you been here before? It must be a great photo spot for Bud,” you comment as the three of you get out of the car.

“No, I didn’t know about it until now,” Seokmin admits, walking to the boot to open it and pull out a picnic blanket and an insulated backpack.

“Did you pack a picnic?” you ask in shocked awe.

“Just a few things, it’s nothing special!” he insists, cheeks flushing pink as you take the blanket from him while he shuts the boot and locks his car. “Please don’t expect a lot.”

“I expect nothing, and this is already way above that. We should invite you to join us more often,” you tease and sling your arm around Seoyeon’s shoulders as the three of you head further into the trees along the trodden path.

Very quickly, you let go of Seoyeon and take her backpack from her to allow her to dart around taking photos of everything that catches her artistic eye.

“Do you know where we’re going or are we walking until we find a spot?” you wonder as Seokmin falls into step at your side.

“I know. Well…I hope I know,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“So long as she’s happy, we could sit in the car park and I’d be happy. Well, provided we were in a safe place, I really don’t fancy getting run over today.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” he assures with a playful wink. “Gotta keep my passenger princess safe, right?”

“Does that make you my knight in shining armour?”

“Happily.” He sounds so honest, so certain, that you can’t help but turn your head away in hopes he won’t see the blush that suddenly rushes to darken your cheeks as your heart races almost violently in the abrupt strength of it.

A little under ten minutes of casual strolling later, stopping when Seoyeon gets particularly invested in getting a specific shot, or Seokmin puts his hand on you to prompt you to look at something— a touch you relish in, and pretend to not see what he’s showing you just so that he’ll move closer to you and keep his hand on your waist for longer—, the three of you step out onto an expanse of lush grass stretching out ahead of you up a little incline.

Seoyeon immediately gasps in excitement and runs off ahead to climb up to the peak of the small hill.

“This is what you found online?” you ask in a soft voice, utterly awed, as Seokmin once again puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you forward. You hadn’t even realised you had stopped still at the sight until now.

“Yeah. But this isn’t the best part,” he whispers as his hand slides around to hold your waist. Your heart skips a beat, and you press your lips together to not do something stupid like ask him to never let you go.

As soon as you crest the hill, you understand exactly what Seokmin meant. Although the hill doesn’t look big from the angle you approached, it’s much higher on the other side. You can see for miles around; the nearby town, the roads cutting through the hills and fields, the farms dotted around, but most importantly, you can see the field of sunflowers just at the bottom of the hill.

“Sunflowers,” you whisper, unable to talk any louder as you step closer to the other side with one hand to your chest as you look at your namesake.

“I’ve known there’s a sunflower field around here for a while now, I just didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to bring you here to see it,” Seokmin says. You think he’s talking to his daughter— who is a few metres ahead of you taking endless photos of the landscape— but then he stands on your left, and his hand brushes your back briefly. You wish he’d leave it there, but you know you can’t ask that.

“Me? You wanted to bring me here?” you ask in surprise.

“Yeah, you’re Sunflower,” he answers as if it’s all he needs to say, as if it’s a simple as that. Something in his full gaze locked onto you makes you think it isn’t. But you’re not brave enough to voice your suspicion. Not when that look is making the hole in your chest rapidly fill again, and you really don’t want it to be ripped out if he tells you that you’re wrong, or that he isn’t ready yet and may never be. You’d rather just keep it to yourself and enjoy the day.

“Do you think we could get close enough to take photos with them?” you wonder playfully as you turn your face forward again to escape his expression and move on before your chest can empty on your birthday of all days.

“If it will please my princess, I’ll find away,” he promises, mostly playful but you can hear the undercurrent of pure honesty. You don’t dare to look at him right now, too pink to be able to face anyone, let alone the man who makes your heart race. “For now, I’ll set up the picnic!” He takes the blanket from your hand and Seoyeon’s backpack from your shoulder then wanders off behind you to find the perfect spot.

The three of you spend hours on the hill.

Seoyeon spends most of the time carefully getting the view down onto the multiple tiny canvases she always keeps stocked up in her travel art kit. She even convinces you and Seokmin to have a go too. Neither of you are anywhere near as good at painting as Seoyeon, but you both paint a close up of a sunflower without realising, then laugh when you realise what happened once you reveal your finished masterpieces.

But mostly, you and Seokmin remain on the blanket while Seoyeon paints closer to the edge of the hill to have a better view. The two of you never face an awkwardly silent moment, even when a topic naturally ends and another doesn’t immediately pick up. It’s just…easy, to sit quietly at Seokmin’s side and enjoy the day with him. You even manage to convince him to sing for you and lay on your side as he lays on his back, face to the sky as he sings, but the romantic words settle behind your ribs so warmly.

As much as you would love to stay on that hill in a content, cosy little bubble with no thoughts of the world outside the three of you, both you and Seokmin have work in the morning, so reluctantly, the three of you pack up when the sun sets, and head back.

On the drive back home, Seokmin stops at a drive-through, realising that the picnic really isn’t a good substitute for dinner, and the three of you eat your meals on the road. You make a point of feeding Seokmin, insisting that he can’t take his hands off of the wheel— despite the fact he mostly drives with only one hand on the wheel anyway—, mostly just because he blushes so pretty and whines when Seoyeon laughs at him for it.

It's not particularly late when Seokmin pulls up infront of your building, but Seoyeon is asleep in the back, curled against the door and hugging her backpack in place of the childhood teddy bear you know she still sleeps with— something she had only admitted to after you told her you sleep with a few plushies on your bed and tend to hug one to sleep.

“Thanks for letting me tag along today, Sunflower, I really had a great day,” Seokmin says quietly, once you both realise that his daughter is sleeping away and neither of you want to risk waking her up yet.

“I don’t think it can be classed as tagging along when you drove, found the most beautiful picnic location, supplied said picnic, and paid for dinner.”

Seokmin shrugs, almost dismissively. “I’d do all that for you two any time. I’m just grateful you let me join your time together.”

“We love having you with us, Seokmin.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you assure confidently, making his lips curl up into a content smile.

“I’m glad. I really like being with you both too.” You smile at him and reach over to squeeze his hand on his thigh. You smile a little brighter, and so does he, when he turns his hand over to gently squeeze in response.

“I’ll treasure today’s memories for a long time,” you say honestly. “This was the best birthday I’ve had in years, thank you.” You try to turn and get out of the car, but Seokmin makes an alarmed sound, causing you to look at him with your own alarmed expression. “Are you okay?”

“It’s your birthday today?” he hisses in shock. You just nod. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve done something special!”

You look at him for a moment before smiling and leaning over to gently hold his worried face in your hands. You don’t miss the way he immediately melts against your palms, and his eyes turn big and round on you. “Today was so special to me. You don’t understand how happy I am, how happy you’ve made me with today. I don’t need or want any more than that. I expected nothing, and you still blew that out of the water.”

“I…okay,” he concedes, trusting the honesty on your features, so you nod in approval and let your hands slide away from his face to land gently on your lap. “I’m glad I could make your birthday special for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday, by the way.” You giggle and thank him again before getting out of the car. You say goodbye and then he ushers you to your apartment, insisting he won’t leave until he’s seen your front door close behind you.

True to his word, Seokmin only starts the car back up when you open your front door, and it’s only once you’ve closed it behind you and peer out of the window beside it that you see his car driving away.

Just as you decide to call it a night and turn off the TV to head to bed, there’s a timid sounding knock on your door. It’s close to midnight now, and you’re really not expecting guests— especially when your friends and family never turn up out of the blue so late— so you’re confused and a little cautious as you inch towards the door. When you’re only steps away, there’s another knock, slightly louder as if they realised the first was maybe too quiet to be heard.

As soon as you recognise the figure on the landing when you peer through the spyhole, your confusion grows exponentially but worry blooms bright as the worst comes to mind as to why he would be knocking your door so late without prior warning.

As quickly as you can, you disengage the alarm, remove the latch, and unlock the door to open it and meet a fidgeting, pyjama clad Seokmin face to face. “Is Seoyeon okay?” you immediately ask, only to realise he’s wearing a shy, sheepish smile and is holding a cupcake in his hands with an unlit birthday candle sticking out of the top. “Oh…”

“Sorry, I know it’s late and I probably disturbed your sleep–”

“You didn’t,” you assure, not liking the guilt on his features. He relaxes, trusting that you’re being honest and smiles more naturally as he steps closer.

“I couldn’t sleep thinking about how it’s your birthday and you didn’t get to blow out a candle. Unless you did it with someone else…I should’ve considered that. You have family, and friends, and–”

“Seokmin,” you interrupt him for the second time, stepping closer to put one hand over his and making him look at you with such an endearingly cute expression that you can’t help but smile at him. “I haven’t seen anyone but you and Seoyeon today.”

“Ah, good. Well, not good that you haven’t seen anyone else, but good that I’m not making you blow out a second set of candles.” You just giggle and watch as he produces a lighter from his pocket and struggles with it for a few moments, long enough that he gets a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just bought it, and I haven’t touched a lighter in years. We use matches at home, and I didn’t think to bring them.” Finally, the flame appears steady, and he makes a victorious sound before carefully setting the little white candle aflame, wick burning bright and strong without a breeze to tease it. “Make a wish,” he encourages softly, holding the cupcake closer to you.

Obligingly, you shut your eyes and clasp your hands together as you wish for a long, happy life with many birthdays like today with Seokmin and Seoyeon by your side.

When you open your eyes, you immediately blow out the candle then look up at Seokmin, finding him looking at you with what you can’t deny as utter adoration on his gently smiling features.

“Happy birthday, Sunflower.”

“Thank you,” you respond quietly.

Your breath catches when he steps even closer to you, only to reach past you and put the cupcake on the little table directly inside of the apartment under the window. It confuses you why he didn’t just give it to you, but then he wraps his arms around your waist in a hug so perfect you can only melt against his strong chest and clutch onto him in hopes he won’t let go too soon.

To your relief, Seokmin waits for you to lift your head off his shoulder before he loosens his hold. Though he doesn’t let you go; he lifts one hand to gently brush your hair out of your face then cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your warm cheek.

He leans in, holding your jaw a little firmer, and then tilts his head aside to kiss your cheek. Still, your heart races and skips over its own beats.

“I should go, we both have work in the morning,” he says as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed to match yours. He looks shy and flicks his eyes away from you quicker than he usually does. It’s utterly precious.

Not wanting to risk ruining anything, you obligingly release your hold on him and let him step back. “Thank you for coming all this way so that I get a birthday wish, Seokmin.”

“I hope your wish comes true.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’d say the same if he knew what you wished for. As you think about the way it seemed like he changed his aim at the last minute to kiss your cheek instead of your lips, you think he probably would.

Ever since your birthday, you’re pretty sure things between you and Seokmin have changed. Not in any wildly obvious ways, but in the ways you notice. The way he hovers around you more. The way he seems to find excuses to sit or stand near you. The way he lets his eyes linger when you catch him already looking at you, and he doesn’t shy away immediately, yet smiles to himself when he inevitably does.

Something has changed, and something is changing further, but you still keep back. You’re too scared you’ll scare him off if you let your interest and feelings show now. You’re not sure he’s actually ready for anything, because at this point you really can’t deny that he does like you. You wish he’d tell you that and let you know where he stands, so that you’re not constantly in a state of anxious anticipation for the moment he makes some kind of move. But you won’t push him.

You wait, and the hope in your chest swells as big as it’s ever been.

A week before the summer holidays end, Seokmin has to go away for a work trip. He’s only going to a city a few hours away, but he’s got a lot of work to do for a couple of different clients, so he’ll be away for a few days.

Initially, he planned to take Seoyeon with him, unwilling to leave her home alone for three days. Not because he doesn’t trust her— you think he trusts her more than anyone else, and more than you’ve ever seen a parent trust their child— but because he just can’t handle the thought of something potentially happening to his baby while he’s too far away to do anything about it or even know that something’s happened.

Yet when you offer to stay with Seoyeon for the few days, even saying you’ll get someone to cover as many as your hours at the arcade as possible, Seokmin doesn’t even get the chance to respond before Seoyeon pops up from behind the couch— you hadn’t even known she was done in the kitchen— and enthusiastically agrees. She even pulls out the puppy eyes and cutely pleads her dad to allow her to stay at home with you. Seokmin can’t say no to Seoyeon on the average day, let alone when she’s purposely acting cute; so just like that, you and Seoyeon start to plan your sleepover.

Almost as soon as Seokmin leaves— not long after the three of you have had dinner so that he can get to his hotel tonight and relax before his first meeting in the morning— you and Seoyeon break into almost manically excited giggles and rush to gather all the supplies you need.

Even though Seokmin assured you that you can take his bed for the days as they don’t have a guest room, you don’t spend a single moment in his room— even if a huge part of you would love to envelop yourself in his scent embedded into his bed.

While planning the sleepover, Seoyeon had requested the two of you sleep in the living room together, like a real sleepover— something she’s never had before. Of course, you didn’t even try to argue, didn’t want to, but you had one condition; the two of you make a fort to sleep in.

It takes two hours at least to get the fort exactly how the two of you want, and it’s a grand, cosy thing too. You’ve left the front mostly open, so that you can see the large TV from the masses of pillows and blankets cushioning the floor, and also so that you can easily get in and out without risking pulling the whole thing down on top of you.

Honestly, you think the fort is a work of art and you’re already planning to try and convince Seokmin to make it a permanent feature in the living room. Or at least a special, limited-edition feature for as long as he can deal with having no sofa to sit on. You’re pretty that sure between you and Seoyeon, you can wheedle at least a week and a half out of him, perhaps two if you bribe him with dinner, which, you are more than willing to do. Honestly, you’d be happy to make him dinner or take him out to dinner any given day without any ulterior motive, but he doesn’t know that, nor does he need to know that when it’ll work greatly to your benefit in this particular circumstance.

On the first morning of your sleepover, you and Seoyeon clamber out of the fort at a little after 10am and then immediately rush off to get ready for the day trip the two of you had planned the night before.

Not even half an hour after waking, the pair of you are in your car— eating breakfast on the go— and headed off for a day focused entirely on Seoyeon’s passion in life, art. You start by touring the huge art museum a few towns away, where you spend the majority of the day.

Every time Seoyeon stops at a piece that really catches her eye, you can’t help but take photos on your phone; partly to send a few to her dad, but mostly because you utterly adore the shine to her big eyes and awed smiles as she takes in every inch of the masterpiece. Of course, you don’t argue when she wants to stop and try to recreate the artwork in her sketchbook that she’s clutched close to her chest the entire tour, even as she takes photos on her camera for future reference too.

There’s a decent sized café at the museum, so you stop for a late lunch there, enjoying the dishes and drinks named after pieces homed in the museum. When Seoyeon comments on how much her dad would like the hand decorated sugar cookies, you buy a box to take home for him, while she just giggles amusedly at your concentration in picking out the perfect cookies for the man.

After the museum, there’s a little time to kill before the evening night art class you signed up for. It’s situated on the roof of the tallest building in the city, where you’re all given free access to various paints, pastels, and pencils to recreate the skyline in your own styles. You’re not the best at art, but you try your hardest and also try not to encourage the flirting of one of the instructors as he helps you get your vision onto paper.

Of course, Seoyeon does an incredible job with her painting, and you’re tempted to ask her for her finished piece, but you think Seokmin would adore having it hanging in the entrance hall, where there’s a proud shrine to his daughter’s work for all visitors of the Lee house to gaze upon reverently.

By the time you get back to the Lee house, you both have just enough energy to throw together a quick dinner, before curling up in the fort and falling asleep excited for another day out together tomorrow.

On the second day, the pair of you wake up with unimpressed pouts as your alarm rings, neither of you quite cognisant enough to realise why you set an alarm for 6:30am when you don’t even have work for another couple of days. Though once you realise, you both scramble excitedly off to get ready for today’s trip.

After four hours, including stops to stretch your legs and refuel— both the car and yourselves—, you arrive at the beach and can’t help but marvel at the beauty of the hidden cove, barely populated despite the time of day and summer season. All day, the two of you are in awe of how it never gets busy; it remains a calm little pocket of beauty outside the bustle of tourist trap beaches.

While at the beach, you send a photo— or multiple— to Seokmin, who video calls an hour later, both to pout about the two of you going to the beach without him, and to check in and get a full run down of your time together while he has some time to kill before his next meeting. You let Seoyeon do most of the talking and simply sit back with a fond little smile on your face as you watch the pair match one another’s enthusiasm with identical, bright smiles, and sparkling eyes.

You think you could spend the rest of your life watching the father-daughter duo interact and be truly happy. You think if you were blessed with that life, you’d never need nor want for more.

After two days of driving for hours at a time, and walking for hours, and lounging under the sun and playing in the sea for hours, you and Seoyeon need a lazy day to recharge.

On the third— and final— day of your sleepover, the two of you wake a little after 9am, and remain in the fort dozing and watching TV for another hour before you heave yourself up to make you both breakfast.

Seoyeon is almost asleep again when you return, but she becomes more alert at the scent of food and sleepily sits up to let you place her tray on her lap. “Can we go get snacks?” she asks as the two of you sit side by side while you eat and watch the show she’s put on. You just hum in agreement, then smile to yourself when you catch her wiggle happily in your periphery.

“No,” you refuse as soon as you see the packet of giant marshmallows Seoyeon has found somewhere in the store and trotted over to the shopping trolley with. She pouts at you cutely. “You and your dad have zero self-control where marshmallows are concerned, I am banning you both from them for the foreseeable future. At least until I forget the sight of you puking up pastel two weeks ago.”

“I’ll only eat one at a time!” she promises.

“That doesn’t mean one packet,” you clarify, making her giggle and you just know she would’ve used that non-specification as a loophole. “I’m going to buy a lock box to keep them in,” you warn, taking the packet from her hands to toss into the trolley, making her cheer happily. “A big lock box; that’s a huge bag, Bud.”

“I’ll share.”

“With me or do you mean one in each hand?” you joke, making her shove you a little at the tease, though she’s grinning, so you know she doesn’t mind.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” she requests as you enter a new aisle and immediately grab a large bag of rice from the shelf, knowing that the Lee’s pot is getting low and Seokmin somehow always forgets to buy more rice. You’re pretty sure you’ve bought the last few bags of rice, not that you mind at all, nor do you accept Seokmin’s offers to pay you back. He feeds you multiple times a week, the least you can do is keep them topped up on rice.

“You really are your father’s child,” you muse and she nods. “I’m not making it. We’ll order in.”

“Hell yeah,” she enthuses, making you snort a laugh. “You should stay one more night, so you can be there in the morning for dad’s pancakes. He promised to make them the first morning he’s back.”

“I have work the day after your dad’s back, I need to get up too early for you two to be awake.”

“We’ll get up for breakfast with you.”

“Bud, I’d have to leave at 7 at the latest, I have stuff to do before the arcade even opens.”

“Can’t someone else do it?”

“No,” you laugh and put your arm around her shoulders to pull her against your side while she pouts. “We’ll have pancakes at some point. They don’t just have to be a breakfast food, you know?”

“Dad’s weird about stuff like that. He said it’s called breakfast for a reason. You’ll have to stay over another day when you both don’t have to be up early, so we can have breakfast together,” she decides.

It sounds nice; spending the night and having breakfast with the pair, something like a dream come true, honestly. You don’t have it in you to argue with the girl when you want that as much as she seems to, so you just hum and let go of her to motion to a jar on the shelf for her to grab while you get something from another self. Thankfully, the topic is forgotten after that, and you can push it to the back of your mind and focus on shopping.

Something makes you jerk awake. You’re really confused for a moment until you hear a noise in the entrance hall. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and creep out of the fort, grabbing your phone as you go and unlocking it ready to call the police if need be.

Though as soon as you carefully peer into the entrance hall, you relax and lock your phone. “You’re early,” you comment, stepping into the hall as Seokmin jumps in surprise, having been too focused on trying to get his shoes off where he’s perched on the stool and fighting with the too tightly tied laces of his dress shoes. He’s still in one of his work outfits— shirt unbuttoned a little too far and sleeves roughly rolled up his forearms to fight the summer heat, even if it’s late now so a lot cooler than it was earlier.

“Ah, yeah, I just…really wanted to come home,” he admits a little bashfully, straightening up and smiling at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm, but it’s okay, I’m glad you’re back. Going to join us in the fort?” you offer, motioning to the lounge with a tired, yet still cheeky little grin that makes him chuckle.

“If there’s room.” You nod enthusiastically, earning another little chuckle. “Alright. I’ll take my stuff upstairs and shower, then I’ll be right there…as soon as I get these off.”

“Want some help?” you offer with a soft laugh, already moving over to kneel in front of him and reach for his shoes before he can answer.

It goes to show how sleepy you are that you don’t even conjure images of what else you can do on your knees infront of the man, his thick thighs spread right in front of your face when you’re upright. But you’re not upright, you’re bending down low to get a good look at his laces and untangle the tight knot that he’s made worse with his tugging.

Once you’ve got both shoes undone, you remove them from his feet and get up to put them in their usual place on the shoe rack, entirely unaware that Seokmin has done nothing but stare a little dumbly at you as you work. At least until you turn and look at him, finding his big eyes locked on you, mouth dropped open.

You giggle amusedly and then walk over to brush your fingers over the dark marks under his eyes, giving away that he’s tired, no doubt from being away from home and the long drive back so late at night. “Come on, sleepy pants, you need to go to bed, and so do I.” You pick up his hands from his lap and tug until he obediently gets to his feet, still staring down at you with that same expression. “Do I need to take you upstairs myself, Seokmin?” you muse.

Finally, Seokmin snaps out of it and shakes the daze from his head, lips curling into a smile again. “No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” you agree and let him go a little reluctantly— you could swear his fingers curl against yours until they can’t anymore, as reluctant as you are to let go— before returning to your space in the fort, hearing Seokmin clamber up the stairs with his luggage a few moments later.

By the time Seokmin joins you— truly not even that long later— you’re practically asleep again, curled on your side facing Seoyeon but stubbornly trying to remain awake until he’s in his rightful space. As he ducks into the fort on his daughter’s other side, you smile sleepily at him, and he smiles back.

You watch as he settles under the blanket beside his daughter. He takes the time to make sure she’s tucked in comfortably and presses a love filled kiss against her head before looking at you as he remains propped up on his left hand.

“Tell me about your trip in the morning,” you suggest, words starting to slur as you lose the fight with your eyelids and they flutter shut, sleep already close to dragging you under. “You can make us pancakes.” You barely hear Seokmin’s answering chuckle and agreement, you can barely feel the gently brush of fingers tucking your hair out of your face. “We missed you.”

You can’t be sure, you’re already falling asleep, but you think you feel something against your forehead, something that feels awfully like a kiss, and then you’re asleep and you can’t think about it anymore.

Before you know it, the summer holidays are over, Seoyeon goes back to school, and Rainy Days Arcade feels almost empty during the weekdays again.

Despite being practically raised in this very arcade, despite how many years you’ve worked here and witnessed this happened every September, it still makes your heart ache a little to no longer spend the workday seeing smiling faces everywhere you turn.

Though, of course, you can always rely on Skater to cheer you up.

“Hey, look, I got a tattoo of you,” Skater declares one afternoon; after watching you mope around the arcade since the morning, only picking up when you come across a customer as you wait for the afterschool rush.

“What?” you ask, utterly bewildered and a little concerned. You don’t truly believe the man would actually get a tattoo of you— even with his major crush and borderline harmless obsession with you— but you also know that he and Noodle went out with Tiger and some others last night and drank far too much.

Noodle is still sprawled across some seats in the snack bar, snoring away and clutching an empty noodle pot in an attempt to get over his hangover. Skater hadn’t been in a much better condition when he turned up for work; though he thankfully gets over his hangovers pretty quickly with some food in him and a powernap curled up on the floor under a table in the snack bar— you stopped trying to get him to sleep there years ago—, so he’s fine now. But the condition of him when he turned up makes you think he was definitely in a position last night to make a really fucking dumb decision. And Tiger, as you have learned, is full of dumb ideas.

Tentatively, you lean over the prize desk to peer at where Skater has the rip in his jeans pulled, revealing the little cartoon sunflower on his thigh. Immediately, you reach out and slap his arm, making him crack up laughing. It’s just a temporary tattoo, one that can be claimed from the prize desk in exchange for a couple of tickets.

“Asshole, I was worried for a moment there!” you admit and hit him again for good measure.

“Why are we beating him up?” Curly asks as she steps up on your right, holding her youngest child against her chest in a sling, making both you and Skater immediately coo at the 8-month-old. Neither of you answer her question, too occupied in making the baby gurgle and laugh, but Curly doesn’t mind.

“What brings you by?” you wonder almost ten minutes later, when you straighten up and look at the adult attached to the adorable little baby.

“Gremlin number two broke gremlin number three’s plushie you gave her last time she was here,” she explains, meaning that her second oldest child broke the plushie of her third oldest— or second youngest—; a plushie you gave the little girl a few weeks back, when she had been so in awe of the weird looking frog-creature.

“Ah,” you nod in understanding and move behind the desk to unlock the back display and pull down another of the weird looking plushies to hand over. “Tell gremlin two that he won’t be allowed to play here if he isn’t nice to the other gremlins.”

“Will do,” Curly agrees with a laugh. “We’ll probably be by this weekend; their cousins are coming to visit, and you know the husband can’t handle that many kids in the house at once.”

“Rate he knocks you up, you’d think he’s trying to have that many kids,” Skater jokes.

“Oh, we’re done now,” Curly declares, patting the baby against her to show he’s the last one. “Got two of each, better not upset those odds.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour,” Skater says, and you both ignore him, far too used to the random quotes after working with him for four years now.

“Speaking of kids, how is your plan to become Bud’s stepmother going?”

“I’m not trying to be her stepmother,” you correct, though sigh forlornly and flop against the desk. “But I wouldn’t mind. I love her, she’s the best.”

“She really loves you too, it’s obvious. She looks up to you a lot,” Curly says, petting your head and laughing softly when you lean into it like an animal when she stops too fast for your liking. “You’re good for her. He must see that.”

“He does, I think,” you answer, tilting your head to pout at the woman you consider an aunt. She coos at you and brushes the loose strands of hair back from your sulking features. “But he hasn’t given any indication that he’s ready to bring me into their lives like that. I’m like 76.2% sure that he does like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s almost kissed me at least twice now!”

“Damn, lucky guy,” Skater mutters. “What I’d give to almost kiss you.”

“You literally asked for a kiss for your birthday,” you deadpan at him.

“In my defence, I was very drunk, and I do not remember that night at all. I still don’t believe you did it,” he comments honestly. “I think you and Noodle are just fucking with me.”

You stare at him for a moment then abruptly straighten, grab his face, and plant a kiss on his parted in surprise lips. When you pull back after barely a second, his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and his cheeks already pink and only growing brighter.

“I–” he chokes out, then rushes off, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on a games machine, causing the alarm to start blaring. He yelps and glances at you, so red now that you’re genuinely a little concerned, before he motions to the machine limply then bolts to the snack bar, no doubt to freak out to his best friend.

“I should deal with that,” you mutter, then sigh and wander over to the machine to turn the alarm off.

“I’ve gotta go, the gremlins will be coming out of school soon,” Curly announces when you return to the prize desk, deciding that someone is going to have to cover Skater until he’s functional again, and you don’t exactly have anything better to do right now, so you may as well do it.

“Ah, right,” you respond, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you, then back at her. “Give them all hugs from their auntie Sunflower.”

“Will do. If you torment Skate again, record it; everyone will be sad they missed it.”

“Not like it’s not on CCTV,” you muse, motioning vaguely to one of the many security cameras around the arcade; a few are directed at the prize desk, and you know at least one has a perfect view of Skater’s freak out.

“Send it in the work chat,” Curly suggests as she backs up, grinning at you. You just laugh and nod in agreement before watching her walk off.

Almost half an hour later, Skater returns half hiding behind Noodle, who is wearing a shit-eating grin. “He wants to request the rest of the day off because he can’t even look at you right now,” Noodle announces once he’s on the opposite side of the desk to you, and Skater is staring wide eyed at his best friend’s left shoulder from barely inches behind it.

“I didn’t think he’d freak out this much,” you muse. “He kept asking for more last time.”

“He was drunk,” Noodle retorts. “Anyway, can we go? It’s about to get busy with teenagers soon and my head still hurts.” He pouts at you, cutely pleading with his eyes.

“You can do what you want, Nood. But he needs to get someone to cover his shift if he’s leaving,” you remind with a shrug. “I can’t do it; I’ve got to take Bud home tonight. Seokmin’s making lasagne and I am not missing it.”

“Go,” Noodle encourages his best friend as he looks over his shoulder at him, even nudging the taller male when Skater remains in place. “Go find someone to cover the desk. Pretty sure I saw Violet earlier, and by saw, he sat watching me sleep for like twenty minutes.”

“In his defence, you sleep talk and it’s hilarious,” you muse as Skater scuttles off in search of the older man— or someone else to cover his shift.

“I’m hilarious when I’m awake too,” Noodle declares. You suck your teeth and he gawps, reaching over to flick you in offense, making you snigger. Then he leans onto the desk to talk to you with wide eyes and a grin. “You can get the kiss cam footage from the CCTV, right?”

“Curly’s already told me to send it in the group chat,” you answer, making him let out a weird little laugh before he leans back to his side of the counter.

Not long later, Skater returns, not with Violet but your own dad, making your eyebrows lift in surprise, before you grin and bounce around the desk to greet him with a hug.

“I didn’t know you’re coming by today,” you comment.

“Your mum’s working on the beds out front,” he explains, motioning to the front of the arcade, making you gasp then rush off to find your mother, where she’s already kneeling on her foam mat, gardening tools at her side, and gloves on her hands to weed the flower beds decorating the front of the arcade.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she coos when you sit at her side to hug her. She leans into the embrace but doesn’t lift her hands from the pot, not wanting to get soil on you.

“No job today?” you ask and she shakes her head before going on to tell you about the job she and your dad were supposed to start today for their landscaping business, but the client cancelled at the last minute, despite the fact that the expensive custom pebble mix had been ordered. 

The two of you stay out there talking as she works on the flowerbeds and hanging planters long enough that the arcade is filling with students looking to relax and hang out after school.

When Seoyeon arrives, she looks a little bewildered, not recognising your mother, but you quickly introduce the pair and Seoyeon relaxes, though gets a little shy. Still, your mum obviously adores her already and as she already knows who Bud is after hearing about her from you and the other staff over the past months, she quickly tells you to bring her and her dad over on the weekend for a barbeque while the weather is still good enough for it.

Knowing how shy Seoyeon can get— and is clearly feeling right now— you take her into the arcade and leave your mum gardening in peace.

“You don’t have to come,” you assure the teen as the two of you head to the snack bar after you’ve peered at the prize desk and spotted your dad contently sitting on the stool behind it and watching over the place.

“You’d really be okay with it?” Seoyeon asks as the two of you sit down at your usual table and she pulls some homework from her bag for you to look at and decide if it’s possible to start it here, or if it’s something you’ll have to help her with her home where you can both concentrate better. “Me and dad with your family?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” you respond, looking at her a little puzzled. “They invite the staff over a few times a year for events, and sometimes Skater tags along when I visit them.”

“I’m not staff though; I’m just a kid.”

“Hey,” you argue, turning to face her better. “You’re not just a kid. You’re someone very important to me, okay? I care about you a hell of a lot, Seoyeon; enough that, yes, I’ve talked about you to my parents so much that they even ask about you now. Mum’s wanted to meet you for a while, it’s just not been viable with her working, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I still don’t. You can say no; nobody will be mad if you’re not comfortable with going to their place and spending time with us all.”

“Oh…You’re really okay with us coming? Meeting your parents?”

“Yeah. Doc and MD will likely be there, so you’ll already know them. Plus, Doc’s wife. And my brother maybe, if he comes home from school this weekend,” you inform with a shrug. “He always brings lots of sweets and cakes to share; both because he’s obsessed with sugar, and because he claims he’s securing future patients.” Seoyeon gives you a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a dentist.”

“Oh.” She giggles amusedly. “Should we bring anything?”

“You want to come?” Seoyeon nods in confirmation and you grin before hugging her excitedly. She giggles some more and happily hugs you back. “We’ll talk to your dad about it later. Hopefully, he’ll agree.”

To both of your genuine surprise, when you and Seoyeon bring up the barbeque when the three of you are lounging on the sofa watching a movie after dinner, Seokmin doesn’t agree.

“What? No?” Seoyeon repeats, straightening up from her usual place in between you and her dad to look at him in betrayed shock. “Why no?”

Seokmin shuffles to sit up straighter and turns a little to face the pair of you, though he’s looking directly at Seoyeon. “Snowdrop, they’re having a family barbeque and–”

“Her mum invited us!” Seoyeon interrupts. “Sunflower didn’t, her mum did! We’re not intruding on family time.”

Seokmin sighs heavily, and for the first time, he looks a little frustrated towards his daughter. Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be here, but part of you knows it’s related to you and your family, so you’re perfectly within your rights to remain. “Let’s discuss this later, okay?” he says pointedly, and despite what you felt seconds ago, now you feel like you’re unwelcome here. It’s not something you’ve ever felt in the house, or around the pair.

“I get the hint,” you mutter and get up. “See you tomorrow, Bud,” you say, squeezing her arm a little before walking to the entrance hall to get your shoes on.

“No!” Seoyeon argues while getting up, shoving her dad’s hand from her hand to follow you. “Don’t go. You never leave before I’m in bed.”

“Your dad obviously wants to have a private conversation with you, so it’s time for me to leave,” you explain as you sit on the stool to pull your shoes on.

“We don’t need a private conversation about this! It’s about family– you–your family…I mean.” You look up at her and find her suddenly withdrawn a little. It makes you think that her little trip up with her words means something.

“Bud…” you give up with your shoes, removing them again so that you can walk over and gently take a hold of her face to make her look at you. She looks like she could cry any second and it breaks your heart. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you ask softly.

“I…I hate it when you leave,” she admits with a sniffle. “I like it when you’re here, with us, where–where you belong. You’re…I want you to be family with us and not in the way people call friends. I mean real family.”

You don’t know what to say, you genuinely hadn’t ever thought she’d want that. Maybe in the future if Seokmin came around and you two got together, but you’re just friends.

“I think we should talk,” Seokmin’s voice makes you look over to where he’s standing by the entrance of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and an expression on his face that you can’t read as he watches his daughter try not to cry.

Although you don’t want to leave, you know it’s not your place to argue; it’s Seokmin’s house, his daughter who is upset, not yours. So, you nod and only kiss Seoyeon’s head before letting your hands drop away so that you can move to grab your shoes, willing to leave with them in your hands at this point.

But before you can get far, Seokmin speaks back up. “I meant us, Sunflower,” he says, making you look at him in surprise. “Can you give us a minute, Snowdrop?” he requests as he stops beside his daughter. As soon as he puts a gentle hand on her back, she jerks away and storms off to the living room. Seokmin waits for the movie to start and the volume to get turned up to give you privacy to talk before he steps closer to you. “Do you remember the talk we had? About Seoyeon’s mother and dating?”

You blink at him a few times before nodding while lowering your shoes back to the floor. “You want to be sure whoever you date will stick around.”

“And be ready to be our family one day, when ready,” he adds and you nod. “And you said that you hope I find that.”

“I do. You deserve it, you both do.”

“Thank you.” He gives you a little smile that doesn’t meet the ache in his eyes. “I told Seoyeon about that talk because I tell her everything and it felt important to tell her.”

“I understand,” you respond honestly, not at all upset at him for talking to Seoyeon about it; it’s probably something she deserves to know anyway.

“Why are you always so understanding?” he suddenly asks, looking even more pained, utterly bewildering you. “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

“What?” you deadpan.

“Not like that!” He groans frustratedly at himself and buries his face in his hands. You watch his shoulders move as he takes a few deep breaths before he drops his hands and looks at you. “I want to deal with you. I–I want you around too, it’s not just Seoyeon that wants you here, Sunflower.”

“Then ask me to be,” you say simply, moving a little closer while he stares at you in disbelief.

“But…you said you hope I find that.”

“Yes, I do hope that.”

“I…I thought you meant with someone else.”

“No. I want it to be with me, but if you want someone else–”

“No. Never,” he argues firmly and quickly moves closer to take your face into his hands, staring down at you so seriously, so heated that your heart races. “I was trying to tell you that day what I want from you, what I’d expect if you agree. I thought your response meant you don’t want that, and then you…backed off.”

“I thought you were telling me you weren’t ready,” you admit. “So, I was giving you space to decide in your own time. I’d already done all I could to prove that you can trust me with your family, so it was just down to you to be ready.”

“Oh…” he relaxes as a smile lifts his lips. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

You can’t help but laugh and his smile grows wider. “Yeah, you are a bit.”

“Hey!” he complains, though there’s no heat to it, and instead of pulling away in offense, he leans closer in adoration. “I’d really like to stop being stupid and let you know how I feel about you.”

“Mm, and how do you plan on doing that?” you muse, lifting your hands to hold onto his waist loosely, then a little tighter when you remember that he’s likely ripped under his clothes based on the size of his thighs and arms.

“I’ll write you a poem,” he declares seriously, then giggles when you give him an unimpressed look. “Serenade you from outside of your window with a boombox?”

“Okay, I would actually love that. I love your voice,” you decide, making him blush prettily and smile shyly under the compliment. “My neighbours might not appreciate it though, so how about you just serenade me face to face at a later point?”

“A later point?” he teases. “Not now?”

“No, you should do what I’m pretty sure you’ve almost done a few times before today.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Kiss me.”

“You noticed?”

“I don’t think you realise how much attention I pay to you, Seokmin. I’ve been kind of obsessed with your handsome face since I first saw it.” The shy little whine he lets out makes you giggle. “You’re so ridiculously cute for a 42-year-old man, you know?”

“Please don’t remind me how much older than I am,” he complains, adjusting his hold on your face to hold you a little more securely.

“You’re a DILF.”

He gives you an unimpressed look, though it slips away almost instantly and he chuckles, looking pleased by your words. “Okay, I’ll accept that,” he smirks smugly, then leans in to brush his nose against yours. “I can really kiss you?”

“Whenever the fuck you like, seriously,” you enthuse.

Seokmin chuckles then finally, finally, finally presses his lips to yours. His lips are still a little sticky from the marshmallows that he and Seoyeon puppy-dog-eyed out of you immediately after dinner, and there’s still gel in his hair from work when you lift your hands to run through it, but you think it’s a perfect kiss all the same. And quickly turns heated in an also very perfect way, in your so humble opinion.

The two of you pull apart minute later when you hear a little yelp from the living room and turn to find Seoyeon scrambling away from the doorway, clearly having decided to spy on the two of you yet found you making out in the entrance hall.

“She definitely saw,” you muse, looking back at Seokmin as you wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I’m very certain that’s the first time she’s seen me kiss someone,” he comments, looking like he’s not sure if he should run away and hide from the awkward embarrassment of his daughter seeing him grabbing your ass with his tongue teasing yours. Though he turns his slightly panicked look on you and it melts away as his hands— unfortunately— move away from your ass and to a safe spot on your waist. “Are you really okay with this? That being with me means becoming her mum one day? Not for a while, it’s too soon for that, even if I love seeing you two together and how good you are with her. But in the future.”

“You think I’d have just let you grab my ass if I wasn’t committed to this? Both of you?”

“To be honest, I think you wanted me to grab your ass from the moment we met,” he comments, partly cheeky, partly cocky.

You automatically open your mouth to argue, only to realise you can’t and instead giggle. “Okay, that’s true. But things have changed. I just wanted to take you for a ride or twelve then, now I want to ride you for the rest of my life.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, cheeks a little pink, but his eyes a little darker. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me to?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all,” he insists, eyes widening a little. “The day you taught me to play that game and pressed your ass against me, I couldn’t think of anything else that night.”

“I probably would’ve let you flip my skirt and bend me over that game, by the way,” you announce off-handedly, as if it it’s such a normal thing to say to your brand new, fresh out of the box DILF-boyfriend. God, you can’t want to play with him.

“You’re going to kill me,” he croaks out, fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to not let that mental image take over his mind. He’ll be unable to function if so.

“And you’re going to enjoy every second of it,” you coo and tap his nose, making his somewhat constipated expression break as he smiles.

“Yeah, I will.” He kisses you once more— innocently this time— then lets you go and steps back. “Even though I’m very sure she already knows, let’s go tell Seoyeon,” He suggests, while offering his hand to you. You nod in agreement and take the offer, immediately lacing your fingers together and walking close enough to him that you can nervously hug his arm to your chest.

Although Seoyeon had already basically said she wants you to be with her dad and be her pseudo-mother, you’re pretty sure she never wanted to see you and her dad lip locked, especially not like you were, so you’re nervous she’ll have changed her mind upon realising what the two of you being in a relationship really means.

Though as soon as she looks at the two of you, her slightly disturbed expression leaves and she smiles brightly. You let go of Seokmin to dart over and tackle Seoyeon down in a hug, making her laugh as she hugs you back just as enthusiastically.

“Does this mean you’re moving in?” she questions as you sit up and allow her to sit too, before you pull her against your side, arms around her shoulders and head resting on hers, and she curls right into your arms.

“No, it’s too soon for that,” you answer as Seokmin sits behind Seoyeon and pulls you both into his own arms, dropping a kiss on both of your heads that makes you and Seoyeon smile at the affection. “But I imagine there will be more sleepovers.”

“Not always like last time,” Seokmin adds quickly. “I love the fort, so we’ll definitely have to rebuild it and do that, but I will want time with Sunflower on my own.”

“Ew, gross, I don’t want to know about that!” Seoyeon exclaims in complaint, making you laugh, which turns into cackles when you see Seokmin’s wide eyed, flustered expression.

“I didn’t mean for that!” he defends. “I–I just meant to cuddle!”

“Tell that to what I saw in the hallway,” Seoyeon mutters and you laugh harder while Seokmin whines.

“So!” you start a few moments later when you’ve stopped laughing. “About this weekend.” The Lee pair look at you in sync, making your smile widen. They’re so cute. “Are you still against going, Seok? Because I’d really like to introduce my boyfriend to my family.”

“Boyfriend,” Seokmin repeats a little dumbly.

“Yes, that is what you are,” you confirm amusedly. “Or do you prefer to be called partner?”

“That makes me think of cowboys,” he admits, making you and Seoyeon giggle. “Or cops,” he adds and oh, now you’re thinking about roleplay.

You wonder if Seokmin would dress up as a cop if you offer to be handcuffed to the bed. Or maybe a cowboy and he can tie you with rope. Or you can be a cowboy— it sounds better for roleplay than cowgirl— and he can be a wild beast you have to tame, with rope. You just really think someone should be tied up or tied down. Either way, you’re willing to buy out the entire bondage section of your preferred supplies website, he’s just got to say green. Green means go to go, after all.

“Sunflower?” Seokmin’s voice bring you out of your thoughts and back to reality with a questioning hum. “You okay?” You just nod, so he drops it and returns to the topic at hand— unfortunately not him dressed in a cop uniform and telling you to get on your knees. “I’d really love to meet your parents as your boyfriend.”

“Really?!” you ask excitedly, face lighting up, which only grows when he nods in confirmation with a smile upon seeing your joy. “You’re the best!” you cover Seoyeon’s eyes and lean over to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s lips, making him chuckle softly.

“Are you going to make a habit of that?” Seoyeon asks as you settle back, turning to face the TV and the two of you copy, even as Seoyeon remains tucked between you both with your right arm around her, and Seokmin’s left on the back of the sofa behind you both.

“Kissing your dad’s pretty face?” you question and she pulls a face while Seokmin smiles shyly pleased at the compliment. “Hell fucking yeah, I am.”

Seoyeon bursts into giggles at your response, while Seokmin sighs, trying to hide his own laugh, then goes on to scold you about swearing like that around the baby. Seoyeon starts to argue with him about being called a baby while you watch the pair with your chest full and warm of the love you have for the duo. A love you just know will last for the rest of your life, and you’re excited as fuck to spend it with them.

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you drew the line when your recent ex cheated on you, it was a really eventful relationship to say the least despite of his bland personality.

minho was your recent ex, which you caught going out with a girl when it was your monthsary.

you came face to face with reality at that moment, the paper bag that held his gift met with the cold pavement.

it was then you finally saw him through the window, and the same time saw yourself, the reflection of the pathetic girl that condoned and let all her boyfriend’s flaws fall through, because of empty promises, and her heart full of hopes.

and that was the last thing you could lose, yourself.

if you took a run back to all the things you let pass just to fool yourself blind you would see a lot of things.

you would see how he doesn’t bother helping you with anything, how he wants a girlfriend but doesn’t want to be a boyfriend.

how he hinted about trying an open relationship— which you initially took as a joke, until he brought it up once more.

his tinder account that was still up in your third month, but seeing his photo from years ago made you fool yourself that he forgot about it and deleted it long ago.

when he got home he saw all his things he left in your place in a huge box, plain and simple.

he was confused, we’re you moving?

“babe, why are my things out here in a box?” he said removing his shoes at your door.

he paced around your apartment to look for you.

“i thought it was obvious that you had to take it out with yourself and never come back” you barked back.

“never come back..? why?” he looked puzzled. and only if you let yourself be blinded again, you would’ve trusted it.

“you can forget going back here since you’re already going out with that girl on our monthsary!” your brows fused in rage. his blood ran cold, his face froze.

“and don’t even try to hide it, i saw your tinder account still active, is that why you were blabbing about monogamy was conservative? you asshole!” you pushed him straight at his chest where he stumbled backwards.

“i- he- i didn’t—“ he couldn’t form a proper reply until you could interrupt him “yo-yo— you fucking what? get the fuck out of here!”

you dragged him to the entrance of your apartment, shoving the box in his arms, you opened your door and pushed him out, not giving him a chance to exhale within these few minutes that you kicked him out of your apartment, and your life.

“wait i–“ he was about to fight his way back in for his shoes.

“here, you can have them” you replied bluntly picking up his shoes and throwing them over the balcony of the hallway to your door.

you didn’t care if he had to walk in his socks to retrieve them, or how he didn’t get to speak a word out to at least explain or apologize.

because one thing that you knew for sure was that if they truly did love and care for you, you wouldn’t be doubting them.

you cried that night, your sheets still had that faint smell of his perfume.

you quickly decided to move to a new apartment the next day.

after your work shifts you would check out new apartments that was near your workplace, or somewhere nice.

you quickly found a two bedroom and bath apartment that was within your budget and signed the lease with no hesitation.

it was a way of saying goodbye to everything you had, sure you would still have the reflexes of wanting to call him or text him about something, or even finding yourself in the chat box that you had with him where you always greeted him good morning. now it was just filled with his long apology letter.

you decided it was best to stay out of the dating game for a while.

you spent 13 months with him exactly.

and if you followed charlotte’s rule from sex and the city, it would take you at least 6 months and a half to get over him.

your friend invited you to a wedding as her plus one to bring you out to festivities, and to also be sure she wouldn’t find you decaying in your apartment.

you agreed, because this time you aren’t worried to find the perfect date, to hope to catch a bouquet, or to even go handsome guy hunting.

when you are going through break-ups it was a norm for you to quickly forget who you were with, everything you’ve been through, and swear off all men.

but if you were going to be honest, it was the worst way to move on, because you will find those random happy or heartbreaking memories catching up with your saturday brunch.

standing in your ankle length dress, you quietly stood at the bar of the wedding reception.

your friend lost her way to the bathroom, and you were not so far away of having too much to drink.

you thought you long passed your limit because you were hallucinating that your other ex— the one that got away— was standing opposite from you all across the reception venue.

you cursed yourself rubbing your eyes and downing a shot for these recurring memories and faces.

as you bit down on the lemon slice, you couldn’t help wince at the sour flavor, the sour flavor of the past.

choi seungcheol, the man that you freely acclaimed as your best ex.

he was a great man, he worked in business, has a good relationship with his family, good with kids, great and respectful with women, has proper friends, is a gentleman.

what did he do wrong? nothing.

and that’s why you hate him.

because you were flawed.

he was one of your firsts boyfriends. you dated him two years after you moved into the city, approximately 2-3 years ago.

and so to say, it was your fault.

you were still very confused about everything there is to know about relationships.

and you were dragging him along but pushing him away at the same time. keeping him closed but not enough.

but it was more complicated than that, it’s just that you hated to remember.

he had this great opportunity to move away and migrate his work there, he assumed you would be happy to go with him, you thought so too.

when he finally gave you the ultimatum, you blanked and left.

yura your friend finally found her way back to you. she was panting lightly and glanced up and to the side a few times before you looked at her.

“i’m sorry, not to make it worse for you, but isn’t that choi seungcheol?” she glanced to where he was standing.

“huh?” your body sobered up just hearing that you were not actually hallucinating.

“yeah, the one in that black suit, you couldn’t possibly have forgotten him, you said he was your best e—“

“yeah yeah yeah i get it, i thought i was just seeing faces” you clutched your head in your hands. “well we need to go before he finds his way to me”

“don’t you wanna say hi?” yura asked.

“i’m drunk, pathetic, and heartbroken, do i really want to say hi?” you retorted.

“right, but you do still look good even when you’re at your lowest” she said. you weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse.

“it’s the universe’s compensation for men” you muttered which she chuckled to.

you weren’t aware of it but a pair of eyes escorted you out along with yura.

the next day you had a splitting headache. it was no time to rot in your bed, it was your only free day of the week to get all your things transferred to your new place.

you quickly got ready to go back to your old place because you could no longer attempt to cook using aluminum foil or sleep on the floor.

you arrived late at night, with the apartment filled with boxes, but at least the major parts and appliances of your apartment is now equipped and placed where you needed them to be.

you felt a light weight lift of your shoulder as you felt relief of creating your own closure.

the next two weeks you swore off any other public event and instead drowned yourself in work. that was until you realized that your fridge only had a bottle of wine and an egg, not only that, your electrical sockets were also different from your appliances.

you shrugged off your bed with your 9 hour marinated make up, and your bed hair.

you quickly brushed it and wore a coat, it was fall, and you hope that your winter would at least be frigid and magical.

you were thankful for yourself on how high-functional you are even with a broken heart. choosing an accessible area for living is hard, and finding a cheaper place to rent in that place is harder.

but no one’s more determined than a person who’s got a lot to prove.

you went down and walked a couple of blocks before reaching the grocery, you walked a couple more to the hardware store thinking it would be harder bringing your groceries then buying your adapters and extension wires.

you walk in and the scent of manly musk embraces you, which is weird because you thought this place has also been taken over by single moms, lesbians, and well you.

lights and sinks and faucets were racked up and stacked above each one. differently sized bolts, nails, and screws were displayed to your left. and your ex standing in front of the hammer section.

not the recent one, seungcheol.

you prayed that you can leave this place as early as you can. you zoomed to the electric station and looked for adapters now that you had two extension wires on your hand.

you were in the right aisle for sure, but which one of these huge collection was the right one? there were the kinds that had two on the back and 3 on the front, two at the back and two at the front, 3 holes at the back and 3 metal things at the front.

you assumed the one at the corner would be it, and so was seungcheol.

you didn’t know what to say, should you even say anything? you stepped closer, you couldn’t risk going here and wasting the trip to the hardware store.

you picked up the adapter— it was the perfect one, now you just grab four to be safe.

“y/n?” he said

“seungcheol… hi, i didn’t think i’d see you here” you greeted

“i saw you at the front earlier, didn’t know if i should approach you” he said.

you admired him for his honesty, he always was.

“well i don’t mind it, how have you been?”

“good, i see you have electrical conductors there… anything new?”

“well yeah i just moved here, and i had different sockets in my old apartment..” you replied.

“i see, how’s minho?” and your world stopped, not because you missed him, but how the hell did he know him?

“you know him? ah well, it didn’t work out, we’re not together anymore” you didn’t know if you were tripping, but his eyes grew wider and a bit brighter.

“i see.. i’m sorry about that, oh and yeah jeonghan had mentioned him before” he replied, of course your cousin.

“no worries, none of it was your fault”

“i can help you with your things, i’m about to check out too” he said taking the things from your grasp.

why did he needed to be so nice and still be a gentleman. it was moments like these that sent hell back to you for leaving him.

you were firm to not fool yourself anymore, you didn’t believe in getting back with your exes.

but why did he have to be so hot?

he was tall, tall enough to make your head nod back to look at him. his frame huge, and wide, he was strong and dependable. he was great in emotional stuff too.

he’d call when he’s not around, he’d ask about your day how you’ve been. he knows when to give you space and when to knock you out of your anger.

you hated that he was sad when you got sad, and that may be the hottest thing about him.

it’s a shame to be fool when good ones come along, but really, is it a relationship if you knew what to do already?

“how about you, seeing anyone new?” you asked as the beeping from the machine consumed the background.

“no.. not after you” you didn’t know what to say. felt bad? absolutely if it was your fault.

“don’t lie to me, remember sofie from the last place i was working from? she was ready to pounce on you” this was your way of boosting up his ego.

“well, yeah but i’m not into her then or now. i did have dates and well none of them got that serious” he replied casually.

“you didn’t have to pay for my apartment stuff” you glanced down seeing he was already handing you a bag of what you— he bought.

“oh come on, it’s just a couple of stuff, and it’s not always i get to see you” he smiled tightly.

“well you know usually this is coffee” you say bringing up the bag.

you both head out the store and shudder at the sudden decrease of temperature.

and there was just one thing on your mind before you let him go.

“was it because of me? did i fuck you up somehow?” you asked.

his head bobbed to face you.

“no.. don’t be silly, you know you would never do me like that right? because i do. you don’t find a worth while relationship easily right?” he responded, and it felt genuine, because it really was.

you nodded at him with a smile, maybe now you could find a friend in him.

“i’ll see you around then” you nodded off as a goodbye.

“yeah, see you around y/n” he waved.

you felt relieved because usually this is how it ends, someone will say they’ll call or hit you up, or the let’s see each other around finale.

you just didn’t think you’ll see him— right after five minutes.

you were standing in the fruit section of the grocery, halfway through your list before you decided that you had no plausible reason to run away from this situation.

“you should stop following women at night, they’re gonna take you on for a creep” you greeted him.

“y- i thought we said goodbye already” he smiled. his long-sleeve fitted black too was rolled up to his elbows, his right hand holding a protein powder container while the left was holding his basket.

you couldn’t help yourself but glance upward to his arms, his biceps flexing at the weight stretching the fabric.

“yeah i thought so too, and i thought it was some random guy who looked like you” you explained. “well i’m glad to pay for your groceries since you paid earlier” you offered.

you actually were hoping to buy yourself some things for your apartment, but here you were splurging it on your ex. you didn’t know why, but this felt like those times when you were dating and since he was so against your 50/50 payment offers, you forced yourself to get something for him in return.

“you don’t have to, it was out of my own will” he responded.

“nope, i’m not having any of this come on” you dragged him across the aisles as you picked something up.

“fine, i’ll accompany you as a token of my gratitude” he said. he did walk with you through endless aisles of endless things.

he didn’t mind, and you hoped he didn’t because you would feel like shit dragging him around for no reason.

he silently followed you, his basket now underneath yours in the trolly his pushing. it was between your rant at work and the chicken section where his hands grew a mind of its own (or has gone submissive to muscle memory) where he pushed the cart as if it was the most natural thing to do between past lovers.

“right so enough about that, i actually want to know about—“ you were blabbing holding two shampoo bottles in your hand before you turned to face seungcheol. he was standing there just patiently waiting and looking at you, you grew flustered but he doesn’t need to know that.

“i’m sorry, i’m talking too much” your voice narrowed, silently sniffing each bottle to choose from.

“no keep going, i like listening to your stories” he gave you a small smile.

“okay well, since we’re kind of friends now” you started, hoping that wasn’t a title that overstepped and somehow established a better bond between the two of you, you continued yapping for another thirty minutes. “the truth is minho and i broke up because— wait no, i dumped him on our monthsary….” and your mind started blur as you talked.

opposing your mind flow, seungcheol never felt more attentive this evening than to the words you were saying now.

you scanned the fruits last, as the end to your break up story also dispersed.

“i know that this is kinda awkward but it felt good letting it out to other people, and i really appreciate you for staying you didn’t have to” you told him handing him his bag that seemed to be very light.

you guessed he stopped picking his groceries… right about where you came to say hi really.

“yeah, i should’ve just bolted after demanding you tap your card for my groceries” he joked.

“jerk!” you laughed lightly pushing his shoulder “i’m glad that we can be friends now” you smiled.

“yeah… friends” he smiled back.

it was time for you to go home and separate, for real this time.

he hailed a cab for you, and even brought the groceries to the trunk.

right before the driver could press the gas he knocked on your window. the light humming sound of the machine pulling down the glass alerted him.

“yeah?”

“hey friend, would you mind coming to this wedding with me? uhm next week, i already rsvp’d for two and some plans fell through” he asked.

“oh sure! just send me the details” you smiled unsure where the ready approval came from.

“great i’ll pick you up yeah?” he said rhetorically.

you couldn’t help but assume if he wanted to keep you in his life too.

the wedding was in two weeks time. you met seungcheol maybe once between those two weeks, he initially went with you to go pick your dress with you, he was readily holding his card when you declared one dress was your choice.

you ended up not buying that dress and you both just went out for coffee. you didn’t know coffee would confuse you so much; does he like you or is he being friendly. not your usual coffee choices.

he even left you his card for “when you find the perfect dress” which was ridiculous, but something within you knew he wouldn’t back down on this one.

and just like that he made space in your life again.

you didn’t use his card when you found the perfect dress down fifth avenue. even though you really really wanted to, you even pondered for a few minutes on which card you would use.

it was this baby blue silk-like dress that had a scarf with it, it went down to your feet, and it had a v shaped cut for the backless part. the cloth of the scarf lighter than the dress, something to drape over your neck, maybe an effect to make it feel more conservative?

you really loved it nonetheless, you decided to pair it with your silver manolos.

it was your second public appearance, on a wedding yet again, but now with a new (old) escort.

you got so excited to go with your nee outfit that you wanted to talk about it with cheol.

that was until you saw your chatbox and reality hit you like an airplane in an emergency landing.

his name still set up to “love of my life🤍” and still in your emergency contact. the preview message saying sorry sent from you.

and suddenly you felt like everything was real, so tangible, so … wrong?

what were you doing?

and for the next days, you and cheol spent it in radio silence.

the day came, and you were met with a good morning text from seungcheol saying that he will pick you up later at 2.

you spent the day getting ready, your hair lightly curled, your make up light but you made sure it would stay on all day.

it took you a few attempts to zip the dress on your side, it was fitted at the top and you felt like it wouldn’t take long before you turned the sane color as the dress if you were to stop your breathing just to zip your dress again.

slipping into your heels, you found yourself right on time.

you texted cheol that you were ready to go, and apparently he had been waiting in his car already.

when you stepped out of your door, it was like the world stopped, it definitely did for cheol.

he paused, his back lifting from his car and effortlessly gravitating towards you.

his hand pausing in between his stomach and chest as if to contain shock to himself.

he stared at you, and in that moment you felt like you were ready again.

you gave him a spin and he smiled at you.

“you look gorgeous” he said extending his hand to you to help you descend the stairs.

“you look sharp too” you replied gazing at his suit.

you greeted each other with meeting your cheeks and making a kiss sound, it became a mannerism for the two of you.

seems like old habits do die hard.

you spent the car ride there like you had always done, your playlist on the aux, and he was telling some random joke that you snorted at how silly it was.

it didn’t take long before you arrived at the venue. the church ceremony lasted almost two hours.

and you couldn’t lie, you were asleep for like most of it, only waking up when they were cheering, you felt embarrassed and rude until you saw cheol’s head falling forwards from the awkward position it was sitting in, he fell asleep too.

you giggled shaking his arm.

“wake up, the ceremony finished” and he couldn’t help but laugh with you.

at the reception, you met a lot of his mutual friends with the couple and some he didn’t know but knew him.

“it’s nice to meet you! i’m y/n” you smiled at the older lady before you.

you felt like you’ve done so much greeting as if you were the bride, you had enough, but you also had too much fun… and maybe a little one too many to drink. while cheol was just a few paces back from you, watching each and every greeting you gave and receive.

“how are you and minho?” one random mutual found you in a compromising position.

your smile faded, and you felt like heating up, the alcohol in your body evaporating away.

your sober party was quickly brushed off when you felt a hand on your arm.

“they’re unfortunately broken up” cheol said monotonously. your mutual friend sensing the sensitive subject made a cheap excuse to flee the scene she didn’t mean to cause.

it was not the fact that if was about him, it was about when you needed to learn to be on your own again, after being used to be with somebody.

you hated giving yourself away, and when it doesn’t work out, you’d look like a fool for trying.

and maybe it was because you were in another wedding, and that you were finally ready to settle. after swearing off men and still finding yourself wanting a partner for life.

you felt sore and bitter, but minho can go fuck himself.

you bit your lip and just nodded when she left.

“i-i’m not feeling that well, i should go get an uber or something” you told seungcheol.

“it’s okay, i can take you home. i’m all over this party” his eyes rounded up at the sight of you.

you were too down in the mood to ask if he was sure, so you just walked lagging behind him as he held your hand lightly.

the car ride back was silent.

you would still hold over the aux, skipping it to songs you like. a hum would come out from both of you at some songs which eased the air.

when you arrived at your apartment, you just absentmindedly muttered a thanks and hopped off.

you were standing at your doorway fumbling the keys lightly in your hand before unlocking it.

“ehem” a deep cough came from behind you.

“can i have a glass of water? i’m kind of parched” seungcheol told you with a sheepish smile on his lips.

“uhh sure, no worries”

he followed you up the climb of stairs. when you reached your floor, you felt his front pressing on your back, it was kind of a small hallway, but you didn’t feel like telling him off, and maybe you did like it.

“are you okay?” he finally asked after the knob twisted.

“hm? i am, why would i not be?” you faced him.

“i mean with minho and everything, you seemed butt-hurt earlier with the question” he said softly.

“i’m over him… it’s just that i wasted so much time for just him to cheat on me like that” you reasoned.

he looked pissed at your words, a bit distant, but you felt like it wasn’t towards you.

“that fucker..” he hissed “i really don’t get how he could have the audacity to treat you like this, with that face, he has so much audacity really” hid brows almost met in his forehead.

“i’m okay really cheol—“

“no, you’re clearly not! to cheat on you! he must be absolutely insane! if i were with you i wouldn’t even think of it, not even looking at another woman if you forced me to look the other way”

both of your breaths hitched.

“i-i mean, i mean it”

the silence was so loud, you felt your heartbeat ringing in your ears

“tell me, does he treat you better than i do? does he fuck you better than i do?” he stepped closer to you, the distance between you dissipated.

“no” you whispered back.

“i thought so” he said closing the distance between the both of you completely. his lips were soft and warm, it was ephemeral.

he then stood back.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have.” his fingers brushed his lips “tell me if you don’t want this, tell me if you want me to leave, and never see you again. i’ll do it” he huffed.

you pulled on his tie and met his lips again. his palms rested on your hips.

both of you stumble into your apartment.

his tongue slid between your lips, his hand snaked upwards to your breast and massaged it earning a moan from you. his tongue slid inside your mouth, he explored every inch of your mouth. he even pushed it inwards filling your lips causing you to suck on it, he groaned.

your back met the kitchen island, he was quick to lift you on it without separating the kiss.

his arms caging you in your place but you push forward caging his hips with yours. your dress hiking up on your hips, his hand moved to rest on your thigh.

“fuck” he breathlessly sighed.

his hand drifted to your core. he rubbed you over your underwear groaning at the sensation.

you grabbed his shoulder in urgency and pleasure. you moaned on his lips, this only encouraged his movements.

“i’ll treat you better than he did, and not just for tonight” he said moving away from your lips.

his fingers were swift to anchor on your underwear and slide it off. he slowly knelt and met face to face with your folds.

he groaned as if he was pained, he took a swift look at you as he licked a stripe on your folds. he started slow, then pacing faster as if a starved man. he left no skin untouched.

he licked around your gaping hole before dipping his tongue in it.

your head fell back as your hands flew to his hair gripping on it. he groaned at the sting only sending vibrations to your body.

he kept going higher as he met your clit, circling around it and placing just the right amount of pressure sending you over the edge. you felt yourself laying your back on the kitchen island as the pleasure left you unstable and shaking.

his finger slowly entering your hole as he continued working on your clit. he pumped it in and waited no longer for a second one.

his hands were huge, and having two of his digits almost made you scream.

“ahh, fuck just like that” you muttered, you bit your lip in pleasure.

he pumped faster as you met your climax. his hands didn’t stop, he curled them, you felt your eyes roll back your back lifting from the counter.

“seungcheol—“ you gasped before cumming on his face. you grinded against him and his nose gave more pressure on your core.

he pulled his digits off, fluid squirted out of you, he seemed surprised. the liquid tainting his face and chin.

“that was fucking hot” he said licking his digits with a pop.

“sorry, it’s the first time i did that again” you huffed on the counter, elevating yourself with your elbows.

“don’t you think i’m done with you though” he said lifting your hips, your hands embraced his neck. he led you in your bedroom.

he sat down at the foot of the bed. you raised your self using your knees.

his gaze followed your face, only looking at you. and you were surprised, that despite with his painful hard on he was still interested in your face.

your hand reached his pants, you rubbed it slowly.

“ugh” he moaned proudly, you might even say he’s doing it on purpose.

he was vocal, and proud about it.

you even squeezed his length earning moans from the both of you. you forgot how big, long and girthy he was.

you unzipped his pants, freeing his length from his underwear on the way.

he moved underneath you removing his trousers. you unzipped your dress and slid it off over your head.

seungcheol stared at your body pushing forward to lick and suck on your right one. he was occupied on taking off his buttoned shirt, you hastily pulled it off him.

you finally sat on his lap. your fingers grazing on his front. you both moved to the head of the bed.

you were straddling him on his lap. his hand busying itself on your body. his left hand massaging your left breast, his right hand on your ass cheek.

his tongue was warm, and you felt hot with need.

you slowly strokes his length and he bit down a bit hard on your chest in surprise.

“agh-ahh”

you poked and played with his tip, causing him to groan and rest his head on your shoulder, his lips meeting your neck. he started sucking on your neck, lapping everywhere even on your jaw, leaving bruises and hickeys.

he would let you do anything and everything you wanted to do on him, no questions, even if he can flip everything around to his control.

and maybe that’s why he was letting you tie his wrists around his head using your scarf.

he loved seeing you taking control of him, and he can’t say no to your desires especially after your bastard of an ex broke you hard like this.

and he is unapologetically harder than ever before.

his length was hard, his tip red and leaking. and he sat there taking it and looking at you.

you stroked him a few times before finally sinking on him. it was slow, wet, and hot.

“fuck you’re too big” you sighed leaning your head on his shoulder for support.

“we’ll make it fit” he whispered to you ear and countering your move as he thrusted up making the both of you jolt and moan loudly.

you felt him so deep, like he was splitting you in two. as he pushed he felt your walls clamping him down and sucking him in.

he swore he almost came.

you both grinded into each other. you bounced lightly starting your pace. loud moans filled the room. the walls vibrated with the sound and heat.

your skin met with every fall of your hips, and each time you moan louder, bounce faster, clamp harder on him.

“ahh fuck, playtime’s over princess” he easily splitted his hands away from each other ripping the fabric of your scarf.

he flipped the positions without retrieving his dick. in the process of making you lay down, his hips pushed so hard on his weight it was the deepest he— or for anyone has reached within you.

you started screaming, your nails clawing at his back.

“aahh— ahh!” you moaned loudly.

he raised your legs over his head, both of it on his right shoulder.

he snapped his hips faster and pounded harder. he huffed, he had actually been holding his climax since earlier.

your hands drifted to his neck slightly squeezing it in pleasure.

and with that final thrust, you both came. his hips snapping, your legs freeing from his hold as you thrusted towards him too.

you felt like you were floating in pleasure.

he laid beside you when you both finished. his fluids leaking out of your hole.

“that was the best fuck of my life” you huffed muttering the words.

his arms embraced you from the side. his large back was also heaving from the work you both have done.

She loves those who kneel. She keeps those who cannot rise. - Sec. 6, Ver. 2 of the Blood Rites

THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IS THE SMELL OF HONEYSUCKLE AND JASMINE MIXED WITH CLOVER AND BLACK TEA. It’s so comforting that you almost drift back to sleep, tucked between two warm bodies, one snoring lightly, the other clinging to your back. A needle-like awareness prods at you though, a subtle tingle that doesn’t stop until your eyelashes flutter open, blinking the sleep away in the dark room.

You’re in Chan’s room. You remember coming in here after the aftermath of last night, falling asleep between Chan and Jeonghan. It’s Chan who is snoring, sleeping flat on his back as you curl into his side, Jeonghan pressed to your back as his shallow breaths fan your cheek. 

Carefully, you tilt your head to see a shadow perched on the post of Chan’s bed. For a split second, fear makes your heart seize. You’re sure it’s someone who came to kill you for last night, that someone has discovered the three of you murdered that group of alphas from the pit and now they’ve come like a blade in the dark. 

Then you smell citrus and your eyes adjust, the faint outline of Soonyoung perched like a cat turning your panic into excitement. Without thinking, you yank yourself from the tangle of Chan and Jeonghan, leaping toward Soonyoung as you shout. Chan and Jeonghan are awakened immediately, both of them flinching as Jeonghan goes for the knife under his pillow and Chan’s claws come out. 

Soonyoung laughs as you crash into him and both of you topple to the ground. He hits the floor with a soft grunt, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your face into his neck, inhaling. He growls when you do, but you barely hear it, eyes fluttering as the scent of orange rind flows through you. You immediately become sleepy again, melting into him. 

“Hi to you too,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your forehead as the others peel themselves out of bed. “The three of you were quite snug. It was cute.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, pressing your neck closer to him. 

Soonyoung lets you nuzzle him. The fear and panic of the fight the night before seems distant when you press close to him, the heat of his body under yours and his arms wrapped around you as he lets you breathe him in. You hadn’t realized how much you missed his fresh citrus until he wasn’t here, and you try not to think about what that means for you. How permanent this has all become.

Chan’s words from the night before come trickling back to you: it makes you feel delusional.

It does. You do, a little. But for right now, you’re comforted by his presence as he gathers you in his arms and sits up with you in his lap. You pull back a little, feeling a little dizzy from the rush of his nearness and the pheromones in his scent. His face is a shadow in the dark, but the glint in his eyes sparks when he smiles at you, drinking in your expression.

“I like when you miss me. Maybe I should go away more often.” Your hands turn to fists in his shirt and he laughs. “Maybe not. You smell like you’ve been quite fine without me.”

Warmth floods through you. Soonyoung laughs, pulling you in tighter by the waist as he dips his head down to nose at your neck, breathing you in. It makes you light-headed, lashes fluttering as he sighs heavily against your neck, mouth ghosting briefly over your throat before he presses a chaste kiss there and pulls away. 

“Was everything alright while we were gone?”

Soonyoung’s question is followed by silence. You shift in his lap, remembering the night before. The tang of fear when you were attacked, the sudden flash of fear and anger and power as you commanded the alphas to turn the knives on themselves. The scent of blood heavy in the air afterward, your throat aching and raw from the power of the Call.

Frowning, Soonyoung pulls back and examines you, sensing the change. His eyes flicker to Jeonghan and Chan on the bed, and whatever he finds in their faces makes his momentary joy at seeing you fade a little.

“What happened?” Soonyoung asks, hands squeezing your hips a little. His eyes drop back to you, softened with concern. “You’re alright?”

“We’re fine.” Jeonghan peels himself from the bed and walks by the two of you, his fingers threading gently through Soonyoung’s hair as he does. The alpha shivers under Jeonghan’s touch, hands flexing against you momentarily. “Let’s all talk. Together.”

Foosteps echo in the hall. You turn as the door opens to reveal Seungcheol. He fills the frame, the light behind him turning him into a shadow. His expression is dark until his gaze sweeps over the room, softening just a fraction as his eyes land on you and Soonyoung. You can hear Seokmin’s voice drifting from the kitchen, Vernon’s murmur just audible. 

“Up,” Seungcheol says, turning. “Let’s talk.”

It’s not a request, but it isn’t delivered as harshly as it usually is. You untangle yourself from Soonyoung, the chill of the stone floor clinging to your bare feet. Chan hauls Jeonghan to his feet with a grunt and ignores Jeonghan complaining, hands swatting at the young alpha. You offer Soonyoung a hand and he grins, letting you haul him to his feet. He kisses your cheek briefly as he passes you out of the room and into the hallway, taking the lead into the living room. 

The hearth is burning already, the warmth flooding the living area and the kitchen. You immediately smell Seokmin’s lavender, comforted as he turned to greet you with a warm smile. He squeezes your hand as he walks by you to head to the larder, digging around until he pulls out a load of dense rye bread and a jar of jam. 

You sit down at the table next to Vernon, who immediately lays his arm across the back of your chair, fingers brushing against your shoulder. He does it mid-conversation with Chan, like he hasn’t even noticed the connection snapping into place between you. The normalcy of it soothes the raw edges from last night, but it doesn’t erase them. 

Soonyoung sits down on your other side, scooting his chair closer so that your thighs are pressed together, arms brushing as he gestures with his hands while arguing with Chan about losing Chan’s favorite dagger that he had borrowed. Seokmin starts putting down mugs of tea as everyone settles at the table, sliced bread and honeyed butter put in the middle for you to nibble on. 

“You okay?” Vernon’s soft question draws your attention to him. He looks tired, the circles under his eyes barely there, but a little darker than usual. You nod, giving him a soft smile, leaning your head back to press against his arm. His mouth twitches. “Good.”

You’re only good because you’re not in this alone. You’re unsure if they realize how much the normalcy of touch, of chatter, of sound grounds you. Images from the night before flash across your thoughts: the alphas’ snarls turning to gurgles, Chan bleeding, Jeonghan’s blade flashing silver in the torchlight. Your own hands slick with blood, the way your voice echoed. 

Seungcheol settles at the head of the table. “Tell us what happened.”

It’s Jeonghan who does. You watch him straighten and detail the incident from the moment he brought you down to the pits to the moments in the hallway. He doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t hide a single thing from Seungcheol. His recall is perfect and clear, given without the usual tease and drama that Jeonghan is prone to.

He’s second in command, you remember. This is someone giving Seungcheol a field report, going over all of the things that the leader of this pack - your pack - needs to know in order to proceed. You feel your mouth twitch at the corners with a hint of pride. Not at the gruesome details that Jeonghan catches everyone up to speed on, but the way that he so easily takes the lead. 

Silence follows Jeonghan’s explanation. Vernon’s fingers have stopped their tracing on your shoulder, but his fingers are still warm and pressed against you, just as present in the heavy quiet. Seungcheol’s face is unreadable as he leans forward, putting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands as he considers what happened. 

His dark eyes drift to you and your stomach flips with anticipation. “You did what you had to.” You feel a flicker of surprise. You’d been expecting chastisement. “Thank you for protecting your own.”

Your own. It might be the first time that Seungcheol has acknowledged you’re one of them. That you belong here, somehow. You swallow down the knot in your throat and nod. Maybe you do belong with them, in some way. But you also know that you belong far away from this mountain in the rolling hills of Valen, with your people. Your home. 

You take a sip of your tea to steady your beating heart. It’s warm and spiced, but sweetened with vanilla. “It wasn’t just about protecting them,” you admit. “I couldn’t let them know I could… do that.”

“You can use it already, then?” Seungcheol asks.

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan. He nods, encouraging you. “Kind of,” you answer slowly, looking back at Seungcheol. “It was a moment of panic. Jeonghan and I have been practicing. I can get him to do basic things, but he wants to listen. When he doesn’t, it’s harder.”

Seungcheol nods. “That’s the Divine’s struggle with me. She has to be particularly attentive with me, otherwise I can… resist, of sorts.”

“Is that why she does the rituals every few months? Because she has to solidify her hold?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan answers. “Her and her priestesses make home visits sometimes, as well. They obsessively reinforce the compulsions here. Seungcheol receives them weekly.”

You raise your brows, looking at him. He leans back in his chair now, meeting your surprise head on. You hadn’t known that was happening, but you barely know anything about Seungcheol. Just that he was one of the last remaining wolves of the Lysium pack, something rare - an artifact - like you’re fighting not to become. 

“Start practicing with me,” Seungcheol says eventually. “You’ve done it once, though you were angry at the time. I don’t think we can rely on you to be angry constantly to use it.”

Chan snorts. “You don’t know her very well.”

Seungcheol’s mouth quirks. “Perhaps. Jeonghan is too easy of a target.” The omega in question huffs and Seungcheol tilts his head in challenge. “Am I incorrect in assuming she has you wrapped around her finger?” 

The urge to say Jeonghan is wrapped around no one’s finger is cut short when he makes an annoyed sound and looks away from Seungcheol. You hardly think that Jeonghan is wrapped around your finger, but then you think about that night in the bathing room, the way he’d murmured yes, my queen. Or when he swore he would follow you anywhere, with or without the Call.

Warmth flushes through you. You look at your steaming mug of tea as a thread of satisfaction stitches its way through you. Jeonghan’s faith and belief in you is empowering. It makes you feel like you can take on the Divine, that you can rip down the walls of this Hell she has built. When you look up at him, you see that his dark gaze is on you, hungry and eager. 

“Thought so,” Seungcheol deadpans, unimpressed. “She’ll start practicing on me. Speaking of practice, you’ve graduated to swordplay with Soonyoung. I’m going to make an appeal for her to become an official member of the mountain.”

Soonyoung shifts next to you. “Is that the best idea?”

“What?” Chan teases. “Think she can beat you?”

“Shut up, pup,” Soonyoung growls. “I’m talking about the appeal. The Divine will test her and there is no guarantee she’ll be placed back with us. Rivia is funny like that.”

“It’s a risk we have to take. She can’t do what will need to be done if we keep her in here. She needs to be able to move freely about the keep.”

“Not that I’m opposed, but what exactly do you intend to use my new found mobility for?” You ask, leaning forward with a frown.

Though the idea of being able to go where you want without pack supervision is tempting, you’re sure it’ll come at a cost like everything else in this mountain. It’s also important to know why Seungcheol desires that for you. You’re confident he has no desire to harm you, but it’s not the same as being unwilling to put you at risk, which you know he very well is.

Especially if it means exacting their freedom. 

Anxiety knots in your stomach too. You’ve lost count of the weeks here, but you’ve seen so little of the Bloodkeep that the idea you’d be able to wander about it freely is a little overwhelming. Even going down through the markets and the pits last night had been dizzying, an entire world rooted in the belly of a cursed mountain that you want to bring down. 

It’s also the idea of humanizing this world that has you shifting in your seat. It’s easy to understand that outside of your immediate surroundings, everyone is a monster. The alphas from last night, the priestesses of the Divine, Ina. They’re all mysterious tools of an evil force at a distance, and you’d like to keep them that way. 

“If you can start loosening the collars,” Seungcheol answers finally, “It’ll give more than just us the freedom to start moving against her. There are other packs and people in this mountain that hate her just as much as we do, but the power she wields makes it hard to do anything about it.”

“You want me to start working against her compulsions with other people.”

“I do.”

“That’s dangerous,” Vernon murmurs, his hand pressing flat over your shoulder, possessive. “People talk in this mountain. There’s no guarantee-”

“There’s never a guarantee.” Seungcheol’s fingers twitch against the table. “Nothing we do is without risk. If we worry too much about risk, we’re weak to complacency.” His eyes shift to you. “I was recently reminded that complacency can be disguised as survival.”

You meet his gaze to see something flickering there. You don’t know what it is, but you feel something pass between the two of you. It’s him who averts his eyes first, clearing his throat as he looks at Vernon. “You wanted to take her to the library.”

Vernon nods. “It’s mostly drivel on Selyne, but there are hundreds of books here now that she’s taken from each kingdom she’s conquered.” He hesitates, glancing at you. “I came across books from Valen.”

A spark ignites in your chest and you sit straighter. You feel the hum of possibility, the promise of familiar pages and tomes just beyond the distance. “My books are here.”

“Some of them. I think we might find them useful.” 

“What is it you’re looking for, exactly?” Chan asks. 

“The history of the Call is confusing,” Jeonghan explains. “The application and effectiveness of it seems to be different, depending on the method used. Wildheart’s application is more in the style of her ancestors, while the Divine’s is self-taught and more of Bloodsong origin.”

“And there’s something I found while reading in Vernon’s study,” you supply. “A book that has vanished, now. It mentioned something about the First Voices and someone among them who abused their power, I think. I would like to see if I can connect the three to see if there is a true weakness we can exploit. There’s not a history of people using the Call against one another - I don’t know that if applied like a force to the Divine directly, I would win.”

“What, like a shouting match?” Chan snorts and Seokmin hits him. “Pretty sure she can’t beat you in a physical fight, though.” He grins. “You bite.”

Seungcheol sighs, dropping his head back as Seokmin and Chan dissolve into chaos, the beta smacking the young alpha on the back of the head for being unserious during a serious meeting of the minds. You grin, settling against Vernon’s arm as he resumes tracing patterns on your shoulder. 

It’s Soonyoung who remains serious, though. He leans forward in the seat next to you, elbows on the table as he addresses Seungcheol. “This has to be sorted before winter. You know that. We have very little time to do this.”

“Because of the Old Cities.”

Soonyoung glances at you and nods. “She wants a dedicated war effort against the Old Cities next year. This winter she’ll shore up defenses here and reinforce our compulsions tenfold. Part of why she’s recruited so many priestesses and ransacked libraries is to ensure that she comes into spring without an ounce of disobedience in this mountain.”

The words land like stones in still water. In the living area, the hearth crackles in response, a spark jumping free to die on the flagstone. The room feels smaller when you think about what a dedicated war effort means. You think of Valen, the rolling hills and ancient groves burning, the screams of your people as warriors in red poured through the broken gates. 

Though the Old Cities are far and strong, the Divine has half the continent under her thrall now, and a powerful weapon of control to keep extending her clawed reach. The knowledge of how strong she’s become is daunting enough, but knowing that she’ll spend thousands of unearned lives thrown against the Old Cities in an attempt to take them makes you sick. 

“So we have until winter to unseat the most powerful force on the continent,” Seokmin sighs. You glance at him and he gives you a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “No pressure.”

“It’s the only plan available.” Seungcheol’s tone is final. “Wildheart will practice the Call with me. When she shows progress, we will bring her to our closest allies to start freeing them of the Divine’s influence. If Jeonghan can learn, he can help. And in the meantime, I need to make an appeal for her to be a member of this mountain.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lands on you then. You feel the weight of what that might mean, an understanding that like always, there will be sacrifices involved. That maybe you being a citizen or whatever the equivalent here means being taken away from them, but you being able to have free reign is worth that risk. 

Sipping your tea, you frown. It's gone lukewarm, the sweetness cloying now against the bitter undercurrent of rebellion. “What if it doesn’t work fast enough?” You ask. “What if they notice the noose getting looser and decide to tighten it before I can really do anything?”

Jeonghan leans forward, his jasmine scent blooming sharper as he steals a piece of bread, tearing it absently between his fingers. “That’s why we need to read more books. I wonder if we can layer it, if you can find a counter-harmony, more like a disruption and not a clash.”

Seokmin taps his fingers on the table, thoughtful. “We’re going to need to disrupt supply lines and sabotage forges. Make it look like an accident. Her loyalists need to be kept busy and we need eyes to be anywhere but us. Soonyoung found some tunnels of interest that Vernon was looking for.”

Vernon nods once. “I can map the outer tunnels so we can try to move unseen. I also found some places we might be able to use for meetings with other packs. Mingyu will be eager to know we’ve found a potential solution.”

“Don’t open your mouth to Mingyu about her until we implicitly trust him,” Soonyoung growls as he leans back in his chair. His hand shoots to your thigh, squeezing. “I only trust us.”

Soonyoung’s words hang in the air. No one argues. The table falls into a weighted silence, broken only by the clink of Seokmin clearing mugs away and Chan’s restless foot tapping under the table. You feel the press of bodies around you, Vernon’s arm still draped casually over your shoulders, Soonyoung’s hand warm on your thigh. 

Seungcheol stands, chair scraping against stone. “We start now. Wildheart, with me.”

Your pulse quickens. No preamble, no time for you to practice more with Jeonghan. The thought of going head to head with Seungcheol makes your heart skip as you nod, standing up. Vernon’s hand falls to the small of your back where he gives you a pat and Soonyoung winks at you, encouraging. 

You follow Seungcheol down the hallway to a room you’ve never entered. The smell of bergamot and cedarwood hits you and you realize it’s Seungcheol’s bedroom. There’s a faint scent of honeysuckle that lingers, traces of Jeonghan everywhere. 

The bed is larger than yours and draped in dark furs and blankets. There’s a single wooden chest at the foot of the bed, and the walls are bare except for a faded tapestry of the moon over the Lysium mountains. He closes the door behind you and it makes you flinch. 

If Seungcheol notices, he says nothing. He points to the edge of the better and mutters, “Sit.” 

You do, the mattress softer than you expected. Seungcheol remains standing, his arms crossed. The light of the lantern makes shadows dance across his face, emphasizing the barely there scar from when you’d clawed him all those weeks ago. Most of all, it highlights the weariness etched around his eyes. 

“Show me what you can do.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry. Practicing with Jeonghan was intimate, almost playful with your knees always touching, breaths syncing together. This feels different. Exposed. Seungcheol’s resistance isn’t just going to be theoretical - it’s a wall you’ll have to breach.

Closing your eyes, you draw in a deep breath, letting memories surface - your mother’s lavender-scented braid, the rolling hills of Valen under a green dawn, the sound and feeling when you commanded Jeonghan. You feel the hum in your chest, the barest hint of power waiting for you to take it. 

“Kneel,” you tell him. It comes out weak, the pitch not right.

You hear him scoff. “Do better than that.”

Frustration makes you frown. “You’re fighting it.”

“I’m not doing anything. That wasn’t a real attempt. So do better.”

Heat rises in your skin, equal parts angry and challenged. You take another deep breath and steady yourself. Seungcheol was right - you weren’t really using it, too nervous to wield it on him, unused to this setting, detached and cold. Swallowing, you think not of the way you command Jeonghan, but the way you made those alphas hurt themselves. The vibration. The power of it. 

“Kneel.”

Seungcheol shifts. You open your eyes to see that he’s still standing, but his fists are closed at his sides. You see a tremor go through him, eyes darkening as they lock on yours. For a heartbeat, you think his knees are going to buckle. Instead, he remains standing, lip curling in satisfaction.

“Not enough,” he growls. 

A growl crawls its way up your throat to match his. “Kneel.”

Seungcheol’s breath hitches and this time, his knees buckle. He doesn’t get all the way down to a kneel, but you see him fight the compulsion, grinding his teeth together as he presses his fists into his thighs, willing them to disobey you. 

“Kneel,” you growl again, hearing the way your voice vibrates and splits into multiple voices at once. 

With Seungcheol weekend, it works. He growls as his knees hit the floor, breath coming out sharp and short between his teeth as he fights you off. He braces a hand on the bed next to you. You’re hyperaware of how close he is, the heat of him making you dizzy. His face is level with you now, close enough that when he lets out a breath, it fans against you. 

“Try to keep me down.”

“Don’t move.”

The command resonates, vibrating through your bones into his. He freezes, muscles jumping as he struggles for a moment. His eyes blaze with defiance as he fights the command. You start to grin and then he shifts, getting a foot under him. You watch as he struggles to stand, but stands nonetheless. The break in your command stings, a sharp pang of frustration flaring in your chest.

“Annoying,” you mutter, crossing your arms. The hum fades as you glare at him. His resistance feels personal, a wall you can’t scale. 

Seungcheol wipes a hand across his jaw, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Not bad for a first try. You’ll need to dig deeper, though. Again.”

So you go again. And again. Each time you follow the same pattern, telling him to kneel. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. Seungcheol’s resistance is fascinating. You watch the way the command ripples through him, watch him fight it every time. Sometimes it’s easy for him, like a cat batting away a mouse. Other times you see the grit in his teeth, the vein throb in his jaw as he kneels. 

You’re unable to keep him down each time. It doesn’t matter how hard you try, how you shape your voice. You feel the Call die again, your throat rough and strained as you let it go as Seungcheol gets to his feet again. His bergamot scent sharpens with exertion as he rolls his shoulders.

You wipe sweat from your brow, the lantern’s flicker casting long shadows in his room. “How do you do it? Resist like that?”

He pauses, eyes darkening. “It’s in my blood to resist.”

You tilt your head, waiting. Signing, Seungcheol crosses the room and sits a little ways away from you. You try not to let the distance hurt your feelings - Seungcheol keeps everyone close but you, preferring to skirt around you. You give him a wide berth too, but always because it feels like that’s what he wants.

“Lysium wolves have always been tough,” he murmurs. “It’s why she went for us first. Left alone too long, we would be a threat. We’re warriors, though. The blood in those mountains isn’t easily tamed. It’s why she killed the warriors. The strongest. She left the children because we were easier to control.”

His voice lowers, gaze distant. “I was barely of age when she came. The Divine was a lot stronger then, new in her power. She slaughtered us like animals. We resisted but it happened… so fast. We’re a proud people, too. Thought we could just throw ourselves at her.” He shakes his head. “We broke ourselves against her power.”

Your mouth goes dry. “She didn’t use warriors against you, did she?”

“No.”

“She and her priestesses did what I did to those alphas in the hall. They made you turn on each other.”

He looks up at you, eyes dark. “Yes. I watched my kin fall, some compelled to turn on their own, others whipped until their resistance shattered. I was-”

Seungcheol’s hand turns into a fist on his knee. His knuckles go white as he thinks about something, lost in thought. Before you can open your mouth and ask what he was going to say, he stands. “Anyway, that’s why she has me visit her weekly. I’m not easily controlled. It makes me good practice. Let’s keep at it.”

You open and close your mouth. You’re not sure what to say. It is the barest glimpse into Seungcheol’s life, but it makes sense. A pack of warriors best defeated by slaughtering themselves, turning sword against kin at the simple command of a woman in red. 

“Seungcheol-”

He shakes his head, done with the conversation. “Again.”

-

The door to the infirmary creaks softly as you slip inside, the herbal scent wrapping around you. The room is dimly lit by a single lantern on the counter, its flame flickering gently. Seokmin is hunched over a mortar and pestle, grinding something with slow, rhythmic motions. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing the strong lines of his forearms, and his hair falls softly over his forehead.

He looks up as you enter, eyes crinkling at the corners when he sees you. “Can’t sleep?

Even with the tea he made you earlier, sleep seems to evade you. The hours spent trying to get Seungcheol to submit to the Call and failing to keep him from long have worn you out, not to mention Chan, Jeonghan and Soonyoung had been summoned by one of the priestesses earlier. Their absence chafed at you in your room alongside the constant shadow of the future.

You shake your head, crossing the room to lean on the counter next to him. The stone is cool under your palms, grounding you as you sigh. “Too much spinning in my head. Winter feels too soon.”

Seokmin sets the pestle down, wiping his hands on a cloth before he turns to you fully. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering warm over your skin. 

“Come here,” he murmurs, dropping his hands to your waist to pull you fully into his arms.

You melt against him, your head resting on his chest as he guides you to sit on the edge of the low cot. He settles besides you, one arm draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. It feels nice to be held like this. It’s intimate in a new way, your heart skipping as he lets you lean into him.

“Seungcheol’s plan is aggressive. What if I can’t master the Call in time? I was abysmal today.”

“You weren’t,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His lavender scent blooms stronger and you calm down. “It’s a lot to carry and a lot to work on. You have to realize getting Seungcheol to do anything is progress. You don’t have a lot of comparison - I do. It probably feels like a lot because it is, but this is probably the first hope we’ve had in a while.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, his brown eyes warm and steady. His fingers intertwine with yours, squeezing gently. You smile and surprise him by leaning forward, brushing your lips against his in a soft kiss. He responds with a pleased hum, smiling when you pull back.

“How do you stay so calm?” you ask him.

“I don’t always. And it doesn’t always feel like I’m calm. I’m just as terrified as you are.”

“I wish I wasn’t afraid.”

“Fear protects us.” His eyes darken. “The Divine only has a single fear, and you need to exploit it.”

You nod as he stands to make you more tea. Standing, you watch him, smiling when he gets shy. His movements are fluid and deliberate, the grace of someone practiced and who knows what they’re doing. Watching Seokmin work always calms you, a steadiness to him that you try to channel. 

When he gives you the mug of tea, he gestures for you to exit the room, dousing the lamp and promising to come with you this time. You feel your instincts flare, pleased that he feels the need to trail you to your room and slip into your bed to let you curl against him as you sip your tea.

The lavender soothes your mind, the chamomile easing the ache in your thoughts, and his steady breaths against your neck lull you toward sleep. Seokmin chats about everything and nothing. He talks about plants. About trees. About summers where he grew up. You listen to him and smile fondly, mumbling about parts of Valen. 

Seokmin laughs and takes the mug from your hands as your eyes grow heavy. He’s just starting to shift you to lay down when your door opens. You look up in surprise, the smell of citrus letting you know it’s Soonyoung. It’s sharper than usual, raw and frustrated. You open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but he closes the door behind him and makes a beeline for your bed.

Soonyoung says nothing as he gets into the bed beside you. He curls into you immediately, his body pressing against your side, arms wrapping around you. You make a soft sound of pleasure and run your fingers through his soft hair, making him shiver. 

Behind you, Seokmin settles in, tossing an arm over your waist to Soonyoung’s arm, squeezing softly. Neither of you ask. Whatever troubles Soonyoung is etched in his pitched brow and the faint tremble in his breath, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it. So you don’t. 

Sleep creeps in, pulling you under, the last thing you feel being the steady rise and fall of their breaths on either side of you.

-

Seokmin leaving wakes you up the next morning. You lift your head as he shifts in the bed, groggy and complaining. He laughs and presses a quick kiss to your mouth, stopping the whine that starts to leave your lips as he tells you he has duties for the Divine. The thought of Seokmin doing anything for her makes your blood go hot. 

He senses it. His eyes darken a fraction as he leans toward you, pressing his mouth to your throat in a hot, wet kiss. It makes your eyes roll back and you fall backward on the bed next to a sleeping Soonyoung, the sensation of Seokmin’s mouth on your scent gland knocking the breath out of you. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he teases. “It’s just an infirmary shift, Wildheart.”

“Come back soon.”

“Mhmm.” Seokmin peels himself from the bed. He kisses Soonyoung’s ankle briefly as he heads for the door. “Let him sleep in. He needs it.”

You nod, falling back to the bed as Seokmin slips out. Soonyoung is still sound asleep, snoring lightly as his grip on you tightens, like he subconsciously knows he has you to himself. You smile and scoot into him as close as you can, letting his warmth bleed into you. 

Soonyoung is childlike in sleep. Gone are the worry lines and severity of his gaze, smoothed out by sleep. You run your fingers through his hair lightly, watching as he leans into your touch on instinct. You still don’t know what was bothering him last night, but it troubles you. You cannot imagine the Soonyoung that was once under the thrall of the Divine, hardened and sharp and cruel.

Well. You can. Memories of him the night he helped the Divine whip the three omegas from Valen flash in your mind. You try not to think about it, wishing images of Soonyoung’s cruelty would be replaced by this version of him, round-cheeked and soft. 

You drift off a little, hand stilling in his hair as you doze. Soonyoung remains wrapped up in you, the smell of citrus rind peeled under sunlight lingering until he starts to stir, scent flaring. It wakes you instantly, eyes fluttering open as he grumbles something incoherent and buries his face in your neck, inhaling.

Soonyoung’s nose brushes against your scent gland and you melt, the alpha’s pheromones knocking you out of it immediately. You see stars as he clings closer to you, a rumble vibrating through your chest as he presses his face firmer into your skin, mouth brushing lightly over your throat but not quite kissing. 

“I don’t want to get up,” he murmurs. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, the shadow of whatever was looming over him last night gone. “We have to, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You brush your fingers through his hair, lingering on the warmth of his skin near his temple. “Something like that.”

Soonyoung sighs. You’re more than tempted to try and keep him in your bed and napping for the rest of the day, but the threat of winter looms above your head like the threat of a headsman's axe. Soonyoung must sense it too, because he props himself up on his elbow to loom over you, amber eyes glinting.

“Up, then,” he grins. “Can’t have you slacking on your first day with a sword. I’ve been dying to see you fight since that night on the road.”

You remember it, smirking. “I would have killed you then.”

He leans closer, lips barely brushing yours. “And now?”

You roll before Soonyoung can blink. The sheets tangle around your legs as you twist and straddle him, his laugh of surprise caught up as you pin him down to the bed by his shoulders. His breath stutters as you duck down, teeth finding his throat - not a bite, but a light scrape, the soft drag of your canines against his pulse. Soonyoung trembles beneath you, hands instinctively gripping your hips, possessive.

“I go for the throat,” you whisper against his skin, the words an echo of one of the first things you ever said to him. 

He laughs again, breathless this time, his head tipping back to give you more. “Of course you do,” he says, and his voice has gone thick. His thumb slides up the curve of your thigh. “You always have.”

You nip lightly at him, the taste of warmth and salt on your tongue, and he arches. You grin but sense the pause in him, a tiny flicker of something soft and uncertain beneath his want. You pull back to search his face, shifting from teasing to concerned. 

“Is this okay?” you ask quietly. 

For a heartbeat, he just looks at you, all the wildness in him stilled. Then he exhales, his hand rising to cup your jaw. You lean into it, seeking the warmth of his palm. His thumb grazes your lip and you part your mouth on instinct, making him laugh. 

“More than okay.” He pauses, watching you. “I just… slow. I need slow. For reasons we can talk about later.”

“I’m good with slow.”

His smile curls the corner of his mouth and he tugs you down, surprising you. You gasp as he presses your foreheads together, noses bumping. “Come on, Wildheart. I’m itching to see a sword in your hand.”

Soonyoung surges forward, making you squeal lightly. His grin is infectious as he stands, elbow on your hip to balance you as you stumble, the sheets still twisted in your leg. He leaves you to get dressed, pressing a quick kiss to your brow before vanishing into the hall. 

You dress quickly, excited for today. The smell of lavender and citrus clings to your skin, making you smile. It’s not the same as the smells of Valen buts it’s something else. Different, but just as precious to you now.

Sliding your boots on, you opt to wear the closer fitting tunics Jeonghan brought you a few days ago - something about complaining that he was running out of wardrobe with you stealing all of his. You secure the dagger Vernon gave you to your hip, a flicker of excitement sparking through you as you head into the hall.

Voices drift from the training room. When you enter, you see Vernon leaning against the weapons rack, sweaty and sipping water. Jeonghan is sitting at Vernon’s feet, flushed with half of his hair tied out of his face, panting from an obvious bout with Vernon.

Idly, Vernon drags his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair. You don’t know how you ever missed the affection between the pack when you first came here. Perhaps you’d been to distracted and distraught, but you see the way they lean into each other now, the way they touch freely now that they’ve grown used to it - touch you freely, even. 

“You’re late,” Chan teases from the center of the ring where he’s stretching with Soonyoung. “Both of you.”

“Seokmin told me to let him sleep in,” you shoot back.

Untying the dagger, you set it outside the ring before joining the two alphas at the center. You bend, flowing into the first pose, feeling your muscles stretch. A joint pops and you groan, feeling the release of tension as you bring your hands down to the ground in a deep lunge. 

“Yeah, well your absence meant Vernon and Jeonghan got to pick on me,” Chan grunts, twisting to the side. 

“We did no such thing, pup,” Jeonghan quips from near the wrack. “You should be less mouthy.”

“Widlheart likes my mouth.”

Soonyoung sweeps his foot under Chan’s and sends the alpha crashing to the floor with a grunt and puff of dirt. You laugh, nearly falling out of your stretch as you shift into another. Soonyoung winks at you as Chan collects himself, huffing. 

“No sex talk when training,” Soonyoung chides.

“Just ‘cause you-”

Soonyoung’s foot shoots out again but Chan is faster, twisting away from the older alpha. “Don’t make me knock you down a peg.”

“Fine,” Chan grunts, dusting himself off and starting his next stretch. He glances at you and his irritation softens, cheeks flushing. “Hi.” 

You blow a kiss at him and he groans, wobbling in his stretch.

The three of you manage to get through all of your stretching, a light sheen of sweat at your temples when Soonyoung straightens and faces you. Excitement bubbles as you shift from foot to foot. Soonyoung notices, smirking as he sends Chan out of the ring with a flick of his fingers. 

“We’re using real swords,” he tells you, holding his hand out as Vernon brings you both a weapon. You recognize Soonyoung’s blade from the night on the road. It’s simple but beautiful, jasmine design curling around the crossguard. He grips the sword and removes it from its sheath. “Chan’s is about the length I’d expect you to use.”

Vernon hands you Chan’s sword. The younger alpha grins where he sits next to Jeonghan when you glance at him, nodding that he doesn’t mind you borrowing it. Chan’s sword is beautiful, all gold filigree with a dark red jewel set in the pommel. You fleetingly realize it’s the sword of a prince - your sword is long gone.

Swallowing past the dry patch in your throat, you wrap your hand around the grip and pull. It comes out of the sheath and Vernon gives you a reassuring nod before packing up, tucking the sheath under his arm to watch you. The grip of Chan’s sword is solid, molding to your palm. It is perhaps a half-inch too long for you, but you swing it a few times, testing the weight. 

Memories of Valen’s sunlit courtyards flicker in your mind - your tutors guiding you through your stance, the smell of lavender and wisteria, the sunbaked stone beneath your feet. You shake off the memory, skirting to the center of the ring where Soonyoung watches you, eyes afire.

“Ready?”

You nod once, the weight of Chan’s sword growing familiar in your grip. The training ring smells of dust and iron as you take your stance, watching as Soonyoung takes his. He gives you a wolfish grin, all wild and feral as he raises his sword in a salute. 

Grinning you mirror him before falling into a serious calm. 

The air goes still. You stare at one another, the air sparking between you as you both wait each other out. Just when you’re about to consider striking first, Soonyoung moves. 

Soonyoung’s strike is clean and sharp, a downward arc meant to test your guard. You react on instinct, steel meeting steel in a clang that vibrates up your arm. Your feet slide in the dirt as you absorb the impact but you’re already moving, pivoting to turn the force of his blow aside with a twist of your wrist. 

“Good,” he laughs, teeth flashing as he stumbles away from you.

You don’t let him breathe, striking low at his ribs. He barely catches it, blade singing as he twists. The exchange immediately becomes a furious dance. You both move like liquid, an equal give and take. He advances and you retreat, then switch, your movements twisting together like two halves of a mirrored rhythm. The ring’s dust swirls around your feet, caught in the eddies of your fighting.

Every clash of the blades stokes the fire inside of you, Soonyoung’s blinding grin egging you on. He lunges at you, feinting left before sweeping right. You see it coming, dropping your shoulder as you parry. Soonyoung pivots to the side but you’re faster, spinning with him as you raise your blade and smack the flat of it against his, hard, knocking his weapon to the side as you come chest to chest.

You hold your sword to his throat, panting as his skids to the side. His breath catches as he pants, the two of you staring at one another. Soonyoung’s gaze is burning, his eyes more alight than you’ve ever seen them. Blood rushes in your ears and you’re eager to go ahead, the thrum of the fight hot in your bloodstream. 

Soonyoung grins as you lower your weapon. He turns to Vernon and gestures at your dagger. “Give her the dagger. I want to see Valen fight.”

Vernon scoops up your dagger and tosses it to you. You catch it with your free hand, heart pounding. It’s short and balanced, the hilt perfect for you. Vernon had picked well - unsurprising, for someone with a dagger fascination. You unsheath it and toss the leather aside, flipping the blade in your hand. 

A strange heat flickers in your chest, familiar. For the first time since getting to the mountain, you feel a flicker of your Valen blood. You twirl the dagger once before dropping into your stance: right foot forward, sword angled to guard the upper body, left foot back, dagger low and loose near your hip. 

Soonyoung’s gaze sharpens as he drops into position. “Show me.”

You move. 

The first motion is a blur, your blade and dagger working together in tandem. Soonyoung barely keeps up, his parries too sharp and off balance as you come at him. His expression flickers between delight, to focus and to frustration when you drive him back, nicking his shirt on the ribs and tearing it open. 

A wild laugh rips through you. You feint high with the sword, catching his counter with your dagger as you twist, forcing his weapon down. The move leaves his chest open. You drive your sword forward, pulling up short of killing him, the tip of your sword kissing his tunic. 

“Gods,” Vernon murmurs. “We’ve been wasting our time with daggers.”

Soonyoung grins, breathless. “She’s the royal blood of rolling hills and warriors. They’ve always fought dagger and sword.”

He lunges again, this time more aggressive. You meet him blow for blow, every step and every shift of weight feeling like an echo of something instinctual. Your muscles remember the lessons carved into them under Valen’s sun, the cadence of drills by tutors who never saw battle but knew it’s music by heart. 

The others watch you. Jeonghan leans forward, eyes wide. Chan’s mouth hangs open - even Vernon watches with his lips parted as you swipe at Soonyoung. He ducks and rolls, coming up behind you, but you’re already spinning, dagger slicing low, sword striking high. He blocks your sword but not the dagger, the weapon Vernon gifts you kissing his side again.

Soonyoung starts to laugh, stepping back from you as he looks at his tunic, another slice in the fabric. 

“Alright,” he huffs. “Vernon.”

Vernon is already stepping into the ring, rolling his shoulders. You look at them both and scoff. “Really?”

“You can do it,” Soonyoung purrs at you, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve got it, baby.”

Though the endearment makes your stomach flip, you sneer at the challenge. Vernon smirks, daggers glinting in his hand as they flank you. Vernon stalks to your right, Sonyoung to your left, both of them circling you. Your pulse hammers as you back up, not letting either of them get behind you. 

Soonyoung moves first, feinting high. You block and pivot but Vernon is already closing in, dagger high. Steel clashes as you block both of Vernon’s daggers with your sword, your dagger catching Soonyoung’s blade. 

The rhythm builds: strike, twist, block, spin. Vernon is fast and Soonyoung is strong, but you’re quicker than both of them. You let them think they’ve cornered you then break through with a flury of movement too quick to follow, baiting and switching them each time.

They move together, Soonyoung fast and unpredictable, Vernon steady and deliberate. You pivot between them, dagger flashing high to meet Soonyoung’s assault while your sword deflects Vernon’s two-handed strikes. The length of your sword gives you an advantage over Vernon, but it gives Soonyoung the same advantage over you.

It doesn’t matter. You beat them back, knocking them off their rhythm until suddenly, you’re leading them. Their attacks sync to your tempo without realizing it, as if they’re dancing to your beat. You press your advantage, flowing between the two of them like a storm of steel.

Sweat drips down Soonyoung’s temple. Vernon grins through his panting, both of them side by side. You’re covered in sweat too, the three of you tired and unrelenting. Your grip on Chan’s sword tightens as you feel your muscles coiled, preparing to attack again.

“Enough.” Your head snaps to the doorway. Seungcheol is leaning against the frame of the entryway, arms crossed. His face is unreadable, eyes dark. You’d been so distracted fending off Soonyoung and Vernon that you hadn’t seen them. “I was wrong.”

Soonyoung and Vernon both relax. You drop your guard but keep your grip on your weapons as Seungcheol drifts into the room. He watches you with that unwavering stare. Usually it makes you want to shrivel up, but right now you stare back, a challenge. 

“Wrong about what?” You ask, voice rough. 

“You don’t need to train with Soonyoung. You excel at swordplay.”

“You did know that. I fought you in Valen.”

That makes him pause. He nods a single time. “You need to learn other fighting styles. It’s why Soonyoung had you learn hand to hand with Chan first and it’s why Vernon teaches you to fight only with a dagger. You can’t just be good at Valen’s style of fighting.”

“So teach me.” 

A faint smile ghosts over his lips. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen Seungcheol smile. It’s nice. “Tomorrow morning. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Seungcheol says nothing else before giving you a final lingering look and heading out of the training room. You feel your mouth twitch as you turn toward the others, holding your hand out to Chan so he can take his sword back. 

“Thanks for letting me use it. It’s beautiful - made for a prince.”

He gives you a mock bow as he takes it, but you can see the way he lights up with delight. “Only the best for you. You may as well take it permanently. I’m not a prince anymore.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“No,” he agrees. “You’re a queen. The way you fight is insane. I wasn’t expecting that. You don’t fight like that when it’s just hands and teeth.”

“Yeah, hands and teeth aren’t my forte but… this. It’s all I ever knew.”

Jeonghan rises from his spot near the rack, brushing dirt off his tunic as he approaches. “You’re lucky your people taught you to fight.”

You nod, sheathing your dagger. “I know.”

The praise warms you, and you feel a flicker of pride as you move toward the edge of the ring. Vernon hands you a waterskin, and you take it gratefully, sinking onto a nearby bench. The others gather around, their presence a comforting weight as you drink deeply, the cool water soothing your parched throat.

“My father insisted that I should know how to fight,” you admit to Jeonghan. He sits next to you, reaching for your hand. You hold it out to him and he flips your hand over, studying the hills and valleys of calluses. “He believed that I should be able to put my life on the line for my kingdom like everyone else.”

“And you did.” You grunt, not wanting to say more on the topic. Jeonghan senses the shift and switches topics. “I never learned the sword. Words have always been my weapon.” 

“Unsurprising.”

He growls at you playfully, squeezing one of your fingers as Vernon drops down next to Jeonghan. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat, dark hair plastered to his forehead. “Don’t let him fool you,” Vernon mutters, throwing Jeonghan a deadpan glare. “Jeonghan is more than suitable with a dagger.”

Jeonghan grins. “Vernon taught me.”

“Mmm.” Vernon takes a sip of water, eyes flicking to you. “Rest up. I still expect you to be with me and Soonyoung in the evenings.” 

“Really?”

Soonyoung snorts, flicking the back of your head as he walks by and heads toward the exit. “What, you thought just because Seungcheol upgraded your mornings you were getting rid of us?” Soonyoung’s grin is wicked. “Vernon and I will make sure to keep you sharp, Wildheart.” 

Though Soonyoung is talking about weapons training, something about the way he says it makes your heart flutter. Grinning, you look down at your palm where Jeonghan has started tracing the lines of your hand, switching conversation to chatter about routes that Vernon had discovered. 

For the first time in the last twenty four hours, it feels like maybe winter won’t be so terrifying after all. 

-

The training room is colder than usual, the air sharp enough to bite the back of your throat when you breathe in. Dawn has barely crawled its way into the Bloodkeep, but you’re up anway. You sit cross-legged in the center of the training ring, knees nearly brushing Seungcheol’s, the scent of bergamot and cedarwood thick between you. His eyes are half-lidded but alert, a predator watching prey before pouncing. 

You hate how steady Seungcheol always is - how unsteady he makes you feel. 

“Breathe,” he orders, and it annoys you. 

You know to breathe. You know you need to relax. But him telling you what you already know grates against your nerves more than your failed attemps to use the Call on him this morning. 

Still, you drag air into your lungs until your ribs ache. The Call has been humming under your skin since you woke, restless and eager, but the moment you try to shape it, it slips through your fingers like smoke. 

Calmer, you start with the hum that you practiced with Jeonghan. The sound is low and warm, threading through the morning chill that turns the training room stone to a frigid ice box. 

“Again,” Seungcheol says. “Mean it.”

You bare your teeth at him. “I am meaning it.

“No. You are asking. You need to make me.”

“I know what I need to do, Seungcheol!”

“So do it,” he growls, equally frustrated. 

Your pride bristles, hot and immediate. You close your eyes and find the resonance in you, the same one that made Jeonghan’s pupils blow wide and that drew Vernon away from danger. You pour it into your thought, the desire to compel Seungcheol so strong that even you believe it when you speak again.

“Stand,” you growl, your voice coming out distorted and echoy, like hundreds of voices speaking at once.

Nothing. Seungcheol doesn’t twitch. His gaze stays level, unblinking, the corner of his mouth curling in something too small to be a smile. It makes your rage flare, heat flooding you, scent spiking. He ignores it, watching you with those same, lazy eyes.

“Again.”

You try again. And again. And again and again. Each failure scrapes another layer of skin from your nerves. Your voice cracks on the ninth attempt, raw from the force you’re shoving against. Sweat beads at your temples as you pant through it, trying to get him to fucking stand. Your hands curl into fists on your thighs, nails biting half-moons into your palms.

“Stand, you fucking-”

“Language,” Seungcheol mocks. 

Your temper flares. “You’re fighting me-”

“That is the entire purpose of this.”

“Yeah, well-”

“Stop talking and make me stand, Wildheart.”

The smell of jasmine and honeysuckle interrupts you. It catches your attention immediately and you turn, craning to look over your shoulder at the doorway where Jeonghan appears. His hair is tousseled from sleep and he’s wearing nothing but loose linen pants, bite marks blooming all over his shoulders and chest - you know the shape of Chan’s bite instintually, desire curling low in your gut. 

Jeonghan takes a single look at your face and sighs, stepping into the room. “Cheol, she’s been at this for two hours, let-”

“Out.” Seungcheol doesn’t raise his voice, but the words crack like Velkar’s whip. Jeonghan freezes midstep, but hesitates. “This isn’t your session.”

“She’s shaking, Seungcheol.”

“I can see that. And she’ll keep shaking until she stops asking me to stand like it’s a favor and starts sounding like the bloodline of Valen that broke chains.” Seungcheol’s eyes flick to the door and harden. “Out, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightens and his scent spikes, irritated. Seungcheol’s scent makes a ripple of fear go down your spine - so rarely do you feel genuine alpha authority from him. It reminds you of the first night you met him, the way he’d forced you to drink water. It makes your hackles rise. Jeonghan’s too, evidently. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue, but finally his shoulders drop, a silent surrender before he gives you one last look before slipping into the hall.

Again, you’re alone with Seungcheol. 

Angry, your next attempt comes out as a snarl. “Stand.”

A ripple of tension goes through him and he closes his fists, fighting the compulsion. He wins, sighing out through his nose as he relaxes, the command fading. “Again.”

Without warning, you lunge across the space between you, palms slamming into his chest. You expect him to roll backward but he doesn’t budge - doesn’t even sway. He’s an immovable force, letting you shove against him angrily. It’s like pushing a mountain and you realize that Seungcheol is the mountain. He’s a Lysium wolf, born and bred from cold stone. 

“I’m trying,” you growl. 

“I know.” His voice softens, so small you think you imagine it. “Trying isn’t mastering. Do it again.”

You lose track of time. The room gets colder as you face off against Seungcheol. You don’t get a break of the others coming in to train - they seem set on leaving you to suffer Seungcheol’s brutal tutelage - so there’s no escape from his frustrated gaze and the constant cycle of again. Again. Again. 

Any warming up you’d done to Seungcheol vanishes as your voice gives out. You don’t know what’s wrong. Yesterday, you’d managed to make him kneel. Today, you can only get him to shift back and forth, but not rise. You realize that he’s fighting you - it does take an effort for him to resist - but he succeeds every time, making your momentary pride from yesterday fizzle like summer rain on hot stone. 

Finally, Seungcheol raises a hand. You’re tired, throat raw and voice barely there. The ache in your vocal chords is enough to make you whimper when you swallow down water. Seungcheol doesn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to drink down an entire waterskein. 

Seungcheol stands, offering you a hand. You ignore it, pushing to your feet on trembling legs. “Combat now. Fight me the way you fought Soonyoung. Chan left his sword for you.”

Seungcheol points to the weapons rack. You move toward it, tasting iron and salt in your mouth. You raise a finger to your lips, popping one into your mouth, drawing it back out to see your spit is pink. Blood. Your throat is literally bleeding and the realization makes you rip Chan’s sword from its sheath before retreiving your dagger.

Turning to Seungcheol, rage quivers through you. For a moment, you see him not as he is, dressed down and in the sparring ring - you see him as he was, in leather armor and smeared in blood, the sounds of Valen’s collapse behind you. 

Suddenly, you’re back in Valen. Smoke chokes the air. Your mother’s braid is burning on the chaise. Your father’s eyes are gold with dead. And Seungcheol is there, black armor streaked with ash, sword dripping red, an alpha come to take your home.

You lunge. It’s not a training strike. It’s the same wild, desperate swing you threw at him in the courtyard when Valen fell, when you were half-mad with grief and terror. Your sword archs high and sloppy, all force and no form. Seungcheol parries easily, steel ringing, but you’re already moving, shoulder slamming into his chest like you can drive him back through time itself and into the past to beat him - beat them - this time.

Seungcheol staggers back a single time, surprise flickering on his face.

But you don’t stop.

You hack at him, again and again, each blow wildler than the last, tears blurring your vision. Breath hitching as the courtyard blurs into the training room. You see tapestries burning, hear the wet sound of steel meeting flesh, the sound of an arrow hitting Jian between the shoulders. 

“Wildheart,” Seungcheol grunts as he blocks another strike. “Form - what are you -”

You drop the sword entirely and come at him with the dagger, getting into his guard. He makes a sound of surprise as you knick his hand, coming up too slowly to block. You don’t care. You swipe at him again but he hits your hand with the pommel of his blade, making you cry out in pain, your knuckles cracking under the blow.

Dropping the dagger, you cock back your fist to hit him but he moves fast, tossing his sword and grabbing you by the wrists, yanking you toward him. You snarl, crying now, ugly and silent. You struggle against him but he holds you in place, saying something that you can’t hear as you thrash and thrash and thrash until your legs give out and you sag against him.

Arms like iron bands wrap around you, pulling you in until you’re crushed against his chest. One hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading through sweat-damp hair. The other splays across your spine, anchoring you as the smell of bergamot and cedar hit you. 

“Breathe,” Seungcheol murmurs, a silent command underlying his words. “We’re not in Valen. You’re here. You’re safe.”

The words don’t make sense at first. Your ears are full of fire and screaming. But he keeps telling you to breathe, steady and relentless until the courtyard fades and the training room bleeds back in. You feel the cold stone under your knees, the faint scent of old blood and new sweat, the solid thump of Seungcheol’s heart under your cheek.

You suck in a ragged breath that tastes like salt and bergamot.

“I saw it again,” you whisper, voice shredded. “You were there, and-”

“I know.” His grip tightens. “I was there. That was then. This is now. I’m not trying to take anything from you. I’m trying to help you. I’m not here to hurt you, Wildheart.” He pulls back just enough to tip your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. They’re softer than you’v ever seen them, stormy and full of regret. “You’re not the girl in the courtyard anymore. I’m not trying to hurt you. And I’m sorry that I did.”

Your hands are still fisted in his tunic. You don’t let go, and he doesn’t make you. Minutes pass by like that - maybe hours. Time feels weird as he holds you, closer than he’s ever been, murmuring to you. You start to relax, letting the smell of him ease the tension, nodding when he asks if you’re okay.

Only then does he slowly let go of you. You immediately want to lean back into him, but you don’t, sitting back on your haunches. You don’t even remember sliding down to the ground. Seungcheol is on his knees, watching you with a guarded expression until he decides whatever he sees there must be okay. 

Slowly, he gets up. This time, when he extends his hand, you take it. He hauls you gently to your feet before going to retrieve your swords, placing the pommel of Chan’s in your hand and wrapping your fingers around it. He picks up your dagger and sheaths it at your waist for you, fingers careful not to linger. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he says quietly. “Unless you’re not ready. I apologize for not considering the… difficulty of facing me. It’s my mistake.”

You nod, unable to say anything. He hesitates for a second before he nods, trailing toward the door. He pauses at the threshold, saying your name gently. Not Wildheart - your name. You look at him, eyes still wet with tears.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know how strong you are.” 

With that, Seungcheol leaves you alone in the training room, sword hanging loose in your hand. The ghosts of Valen are quieter now, but they’re still there, watching and waiting, whispering that you should have died with them. That to survive is its own kind of betrayal. 

You sink to the ground, knees hitting hard enough to bruise. Chan’s sword clatters beside you. The training room feels too big, too cold, too empty. Your hands shake as you press them to your face, smearing new tears across your cheek. You want to scream, but your throat is shredded. You want to run, but there’s no where to go. You want to say sorry, but there’s no one to apologize to. 

Citrus cuts through the grief. Your head snaps up as Soonyoung crouches down, settling beside you. His face is soft and open, the grief in his eyes mirroring yours. He reaches out to touch you but hesitates, waiting for you to pull away. You don’t and he runs his fingers through your hair, fond. 

“Hi,” he whispers. “Cheol said you needed me.”

Soonyoung doesn’t push. He just sits down next to you, shoulder brushing yours, close enough that his warmth seeps into your chilled skin. Minutes stretch, but the silence isn’t heavy anymore. You feel his pinky nudge yours on the dirt, a small, deliberate touch. You hook yours around his without thinking, grateful for the contact.

“I’m here,” he murmurs. “Not going anywhere.”

You belive him. Gods you believe him, and you can’t imagine being without him - or the others, for that matter.

Eventually, you lean your head against his shoulder. He leans into you and you close your eyes, breathing him in. You feel him cup your jaw, his thumb sweeping back and forth, catching on your lip. He traces the curve of your mouth, his fingers reverant. 

“You’re a mess,” he says, but there’s no judgement in it. Just fondness. “Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head against him. Words are too big right now, the feeling too sharp. He hums, understanding, shifting to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his lap. He cradles you against his chest and you tuck your face into his neck, breathing him in. You feel your mind quiet, the nearness of him blotting out everything else. 

For a while, you remain like that. Soonyoung traces idle patterns on your arm, humming under his breath. It’s something tuneless and aimless, and it reminds you when you were on horseback together, the way he would make up songs to hum and whistle, anything to keep the silence away.

It seems so long ago that you were tied to his saddle, trying to do everything to avoid touching him. Now you cling to him like a lifeline because he is a lifeline - one of several, now. 

Eventually, you smell lavendar. You lift your head sleepily from Soonyoung’s neck, blinking as Seokmin trails over. His face is grim, mouth set into a tight line that you rarely see on him. He’s rippling with tension as his eyes focus on Soonyoung, and you feel your hands tighten in Soonyoung’s shirt, suddenly on edge.

“You’ve been summoned,” Seokmin tells Soonyoung. 

He stiffens underneath you. “Of course I have.”

You cling a little tighter to him. “But you just got back.”

“I know, baby.” 

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t either.” His voice cracks. He cups your face, thumbs brushing under the hollows of your eyes. “But I have to, okay? I’ll be alright.”

“No.”

He makes low sound, something between a groan and a plea. “Wildheart-”

“No.”

Soonyoung doesn’t argue. Instead, he kisses you. It’s not soft or gentle, it’s desperate. It’s the kind of kiss that steals the air out of your lungs, the kind of kiss that makes you flood with warmth. His mouth tastes like lemons and salt, his tongue dragging against yours, slow at first, then hungrier, as if it’s starving and your kiss is the only thing that’s ever fed him.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt, his heartbeat slamming against your hands, wild and unsteady - you swear it matches with yours.

When he pulls back, it’s too soon. His mouth ghosts over yours, breath ragged, as if leaving might kill him. You chase him for another taste, but he’s already easing you off his lap, careful hands guiding you to your feet even as his gaze refuses to let go.

“I’m coming back. I always do.”

Your lip curls as you start to growl but he gives you a soft smile and kisses you again, shutting you up before you can get started. It makes your head spin, Soonyoung’s mouth eager and firm against yours. He pulls away again, his lips a little swollen as he grins at you, boyish. 

Then he turns, crossing to Seokmin. You watch him go, pulse still racing, and something in your chest twists when he takes Seokmin by the collar and kisses him, too. It’s a different kind of hunger, quick and teasing. Seokmin melts into it, a small, helpless sound escaping before Soonyoung nips his bottom lip and pulls away with a satisfied smirk.

Soonyoung glances between you and Seokmin, eyes dark and shining. Then he’s gone, answering the Divine’s call with his usual defiant stride.

“Fucker,” Seokmin mutters, breathless. “He likes to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be a little shit and make everyone breathless.” 

You grin. “I’ve never seen you breathless like that.”

Seokmin scowls. “Lunch is ready. Come on before I decide not to play nice.”

These last few weeks have been the most impressive run of insanely crappy weeks you’ve ever had.

Everything just keeps going wrong. With work, with bills, and even a petty fight with one of your closest friends. To top it all off, your last phone call with your mother went awry too, with her complaining about your schedule and you getting a little too harsh on the phone. You regretted it immediately, but now she’s a little icy with you, which only dampens your mood further.

It has just been bad overall, so this shopping trip with Seungkwan is really something you need, even if you don’t have a whole lot of money to spend.

“Oh, I like this one.”

You hold the large coat up to your chest and turn to Seungkwan so he can take a look. It’s huge, falling all the way to your knees, and the fur is dark brown, a neutral and earthy color that looks shiny and smooth. It’s very soft to touch, and you have to wonder how it ended up in a thrift store. It looks and feels so high quality.

Seungkwan tilts his head as he appraises it. “Put it on.”

You do, standing in front of the full-length mirror for a better look. You turn to assess some angles, but you’re quickly being distracted from the way it looks, focusing more on the way it feels. It’s comforting as hell, and very warm. You’re still in awe that you managed to dig up something so good from this store.

“I’m getting it.” You announce before Seungkwan can even give his opinion. You don’t know why, but you really feel drawn to this coat. Something tells you that you need to own it. And after the shit week you’re having (it’s not even Wednesday), you think you deserve this. You haven’t bought anything new in ages. If this can give you a little boost of happiness when you feel like you’re drowning, then you won’t pass that opportunity up.

It doesn’t cost a lot, considering how wonderful it feels on your skin and the fact that you’re getting your next paycheck after the weekend. You feel a positive sensation jump in your chest as you walk out of the store, listening to Seungkwan whine about something work related. You’re quickly swept up in his emotions, augmenting his words and losing yourself in the conversation. You really do need to vent, and Seungkwan is the perfect person for something like that. He matches your energy, understands your struggle since he himself is afflicted with a terrible case of jerk-boss. You feel like you are shedding off pounds and pounds of negative build-up, which you are so thankful for.

Two more workdays follow your trip with Seungkwan, and they weigh heavily on you. By the time the weekend rolls around, you are so grateful you could cry. You need this, the relief of two whole days of no work. You get home on limbs that weigh like lead. With nothing but rotting in bed in your mind, you quickly change into something more comfortable, a loose shirt and leggings. You go through your streaming services to find something to watch as you cook. Just when you’re settling on the couch to start eating your freshly cooked meal, you hear a knock on your door.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused. For one, you aren’t expecting anyone. And for another, you have a doorbell, so the fact that someone is knocking makes even more questions arise. Before you can think further, there’s another knock, more insistent this time, and you’re quickly placing your bowl on the coffee table and scrambling to the door before you can wonder about who it might be. You curse the fact that front doors in your apartment building don’t have peepholes. You carefully unlock and open the door a tiny smidge, peering outside. You blink, confused at the sight.

It’s a man. He looks young, around your age, and has a head of thick, shaggy brown hair that is falling into his equally dark eyes. You look down, and you pause at what you’re seeing. He’s wearing a sweater vest over what looks like another sweater, both terribly mismatched. And he’s wearing…. a skirt?

Yes, it’s a plaid skirt. Deep maroon. Layered over dark denim jeans. And right below them, leather sandals.

You don’t even know what to say. You look back up at the man, and this time, he’s wearing a wide smile. His eyes are wide and bright, and you’re caught off guard by how cheerful he looks.

“Hi.” His voice is fresh, chirpy. You nod your head uncertainly.

“Hello.” Your own is uncertain and damp. You hold the edge of the door tightly, bracing yourself.

“My name is Chan.” He says.

You nod slowly. “Okay.” There’s no way in hell you are telling this stranger your name.

“May I come in?”

Your jaw drops at the question. Who is this man? Why is he dressed so strangely?

“Who are you?” You can’t help but scowl. You don’t have time for this. If this is some strange sales call or something, you are not interested.

The man blinks, as if confused by the question. “I’m Chan.”

Is he stupid? You stare at him for a moment. “Look, I don’t know you and whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

As you go to close the door, the man rushes forward, knocking his palm on the wood and stopping it in place. You freeze, feeling slightly scared now. He immediately pulls his hand away, now fiddling with his fingers and looking incredibly nervous.

“I’m your husband.”

You blink once. Twice. He doesn’t say anything more, just stares like he has told you nothing more than a fact about the weather.

“Excuse me?”

He looks just as nervous, but he nods slowly. “You took my fur. You bought it. So I’m your husband.”

You are so confused and shocked that you don’t even realise you’ve opened the door properly. You’re just holding the doorframe now, jaw dropped, an incredulous look on your face as you eye him. He shifts a little uncomfortably, swaying back and forth as he wrings his hands.

“I’m a selkie.” He babbles. “You bought my fur. I’ve been looking everywhere for it. I lost it near the pier a few weeks ago. I can’t go back without it. But I’ve found it now. It belongs to you. Which means I belong to you now. I’m your husband.”

You don’t understand more than two words out of his mouth. Briefly, you think of drugs, and you edge the door slowly closed again.

“Listen,” you say, trying to keep annoyance and confusion out of your tone to make it more soft. Maybe he will listen to you that way. “There’s a shelter just a few blocks down. I promise you will find help there. I’m sure if you ask someone, they will tell you exactly where it is.”

You wave your arm to the left in a vague gesture for direction. He just stares at you. You fidget.

“I can’t leave.” He says. “You have my fur. I belong to you.”

You are starting to get a little scared, so you shake your head vaguely as you keep pushing the door closed. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

You close the door before he can say anything else, immediately locking it. You stare at it for a second, listening. You can’t hear shuffling, or footsteps. You wonder if he has left.

You double check the locks before moving back inside, wondering what you should do. The whole interaction has left you a little shaken. You eye your now cold food, and the paused movie on your television screen. It only makes you grit your jaw and huff, feeling annoyed again. You have enough on your plate without worrying about some weirdo at your door. You can’t let this weigh on you. It’s probably a one-off, someone who just got confused. And you did try to help him, so hopefully he takes your advice.

But you can’t focus. Even as you sink onto your couch and finish absentmindedly eating, your stare blank as you watch the screen. You can’t help but think of the gibberish he spoke. Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching for your laptop, pulling it towards you and opening the search bar. Quickly, you type ‘selkies’.

There’s so much you find. Page after page of what looks like old, Scottish lore. Sketches and paintings, as well as written text. They are sea creatures, like seals or otters, that can transform into humans by shedding their skins or furs. You remember the man’s words.

‘You have my fur. You bought it.’

As you keep reading, you learn that taking a selkie’s fur means having ownership of them. It symbolises an intimate, lifetime bond. Like mates, or spouses. You recall him calling himself your husband, making an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach. Everything he said somehow makes sense. It’s fantastical, and outlandish to think it might be real, but in the context of it all, it really isn’t random words strung together. Maybe he was confusing you with someone else. Maybe they are doing some weird role play thing. You’ve seen stuff like that on the internet.

Your phone dings. You absentmindedly look at the text. It’s from the lady who lives across from you.

[minyoung apt 34]: hey. theres a man sitting outside your door. should i call someone? are u home?

You stare at the text, confusion and a small bit of realisation dawning on you. You throw your phone on the couch and stand up, quickly beelining to the door and unlocking it, pulling it open.

He is sitting beside the door, back against the wall just to your right. He looks up when you appear, blinking at you. You gape at him.

“You’re still here.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

He nods. “I can’t leave.”

The cheery, bright tone seems to have drained out of him. He sounds….. sad, almost. Unsure. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His silly skirt is bunched up to his thighs, and the jeans are maybe two sizes too big for him. You hesitate, and then you make a very stupid decision. You brace yourself.

“Get up. Come on.”

He seems surprised, and honestly, so are you. You pull the door open more and step aside, watching him quickly scramble up. His face seems to have lightened, but he still looks apprehensive. Slowly, he walks in. You sigh deeply and shut the door behind him.

He’s looking around like he has never seen a house before. Or a living room. Four walls, pictures, a couch. His eyes are wide and beady as he stares at the television. You watch him carefully. In complete honesty, you don’t know why you invited him in. But there’s something in his voice that doesn’t ring any warning bells in your head. You’re sure your parents would have a heart attack if they heard of this, cursing at themselves and you for not instilling ‘stranger danger’ as well as they should have. But he doesn’t give you that vibe at all. When he turns to look at you again, there’s something earnest about it. Sincere.

You shift uncomfortably. “Chan, was it?”

He nods.

“And you’re… a selkie?”

His nod is even more vigorous this time.

“Okay.” You don’t know what to do with your hands. He keeps staring. “And you came here because…”

You prompt him to continue, and he does. “I’m your husband.”

You feel a flicker of irritation. “Yeah, you said that already. But I don’t know what that means.”

He frowns a little, lower lip jutting out. It’s almost cute. You shake the thought away.

“You bought my fur.”

You huff. “Yeah, I don’t know what exactly that is, but I don’t have anything of yours, buddy.”

He tilts his head, as if thinking hard. You start to regret inviting him in.

“I-it’s brown.” He says. “Dark brown. And very soft. A little heavy. And it smells like the sea.”

Your face smoothens in realisation. Wait, does he mean….?

The coat. Your newly bought fur coat. You haven’t worn it yet, since it’s a little too warm for the current weather. You’ve been waiting for a particularly cloudy and chilly day to put it on. Realisation dawns on you.

You leave Chan in your living room, taking less than a few seconds to find the thing and carry it back out. The way Chan’s face lights up at the sight of it has your heart racing. Again, you are hit with the reality of how sincere and pure he feels. No one can be this good an actor.

“You can have it.” You hold it out. “This is what you’re here for, right?”

While he looks happy to see the coat, he shakes his head, turning his bright eyes back to you. “I’m here for you.”

You feel your face heat a little, remembering the spouse and mate stuff you just looked up. You fidget where you stand, considering him.

God, your run of insanely crappy weeks just won’t end. And you really feel like you can’t deal with this right now. So you just huff and nod, feeling drained.

“Fine. But you will sleep on the couch until I know what to do with you.”

His resulting smile is so blinding, you wonder if there truly is something mythical about him.

…………………………………….

You don’t tell Seungkwan about Chan. Frankly, you’re still not sure what you will do about this whole situation, since you know that even if Chan leaves, he will just go back to sitting outside your door. He tells you as much himself. You also don’t know how supportive Seungkwan will be when he finds out that you have an unknown man living on your couch, claiming to be a supernatural creature of the sea. You honestly don’t have the energy for that lecture, or to convince Seungkwan that something deep in your chest is telling you that Chan is harmless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, a strange reverence in his eyes, like he has never seen something more fascinating in his life. Or maybe it’s the fact that he genuinely doesn’t know anything.

You find some of Seungkwan’s and your brother’s clothes in your stuff, telling him to change into a sweatshirt and pants and to take off whatever ridiculous clothing he is wearing. He looks much better that way, more normal, but he claims to feel weird.

“Are you sure this is enough clothes?” He looks uncertain. You can’t help but feel amused.

“Yes, because you’re indoors. You can put something else on top when you go outside.”

He nods, albeit a little hesitant. But he seems to trust your judgment.

When you offer him a meal, he accepts it carefully, eyeing the bowl of noodle soup like he has never seen it before. He picks at it, and makes a face when he eats it. He tries to quickly hide it, but he can’t fake anything to save his life, so you spot it immediately, and when you ask him what he usually eats, he lists varieties of fish and shellfish you have never heard of before. You do end up buying some for him, and conveniently, you don’t even have to cook it. He eats it raw.

“You would love sushi.” You quip as you watch him eat. When he gives you a confused look, you just shake your head and wave it off, mentally making a note to take him to a sushi place sometime.

Chan tells you he has never left the water before. His pack never trusted him enough to do it, and apparently they had been right. He lost his fur very quickly, without even realising, and he has been trying to track it for weeks, claiming he can’t go back without it.

“So now that you’ve found it, you can go back.” You say, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t leave you. You’re my wife.”

Right. He keeps saying that, always in the softest tone, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. It lights your face on fire, makes you fidget where you sit, but he is never fazed by it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It’s not like you’ve never had anyone’s romantic attention before. You have had boyfriends. Granted, most of them ended terribly. You’re still not sure if you’re completely over your ex cheating on you. But Chan is different. Hell, he’s not even human, so it’s not like you can compare him to anything from your past. Dating has always been difficult for you, and you kind of gave up on it when you moved and got hit by the shitstorm that is now your life. It was put so effectively on the back burner that you had forgotten what this felt like. Having someone like you like this.

With Chan, it’s hard to figure out how to act. You don’t know what to do with all his…… positivity. Chan feels like something untouched, untainted. He reminds you of how you were when you just moved to this town. Hopeful and ready to start your adult life. And then the universe decided to start beating the crap out of you, until you felt like you were just surviving, going through the motions.

Chan isn’t like that. Chan is….. luminous. He randomly compliments you, talking about how nice and colorful your apartment is (you don’t think it’s anything special). Or saying he likes something you’re wearing, or that your hair is pretty and shiny. Simple compliments, nothing too poetic, but he says them all with so much earnestness. He especially gets giddy when you wear his coat, saying you look best in it, patting you down before you go to work. It always leaves you hot and fidgety. You really don’t know how to handle him, or his easy affection.

Your life changes as the weeks go by.

Work is just as hectic as always. You get the mountain load of two or three people, enough to have you ready to pull your hair out. You slave away all day, dragging your feet as you finally get home, but this time, it is not to an empty house. Because Chan is there. Chan and his bright smile and his endlessly curious but simple questions. Chan with his many, many stories about life under the sea. He always notices that you’re tired, and he offers to cook for you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he is good at following instructions. So if whatever he is cooking comes from a packet with directions on the back, he ends up making something very hearty and nice. Usually, you are so tired that you don’t mind anything he makes. You will eat it as long as you aren’t the one who has to cook it after working all day.

You complain to him that your legs get cramped up from sitting on your desk chair for so many hours. He pulls your legs towards him before you can protest, plonking them down on his lap and kneading the calf muscles. All your rejections die in your throat as soon as you feel the glorious pressure of his hands. You moan appreciatively, not noticing how Chan positively perks up at the sound, doubling down on his efforts to lessen your fatigue.

That becomes a daily occurrence.

A few weeks of Chan living with you has made you much more comfortable with him. You watch the screen with tired, bleary eyes as he runs his fingers over the soles of your feet from where he has them in his lap. It feels wonderful, as always. While you watch the TV, he watches you. He does that often, just openly staring. It used to make you uncomfortable, and you got very close to scolding him a few times. But the look on his face always makes you stop. A look of awe that you’ve never felt directed at you before. There’s nothing creepy about it, only pure, unfiltered marvel. So you just let him do what he wants.

A voice deep inside you says you don’t actually mind, you might even enjoy it, but you try not to think about that voice.

You let out a weary sigh and shift a bit, rolling your shoulders to adjust the ache in them. Chan notices, because he always notices, and he pauses his movements on your feet.

“I can rub your shoulders.” He offers.

You blink, considering it. You already know how good it will feel, but you don’t know if you want to cross that boundary. This is different, having your feet in his lap. But you don’t know how you feel about Chan’s hands all over your back and shoulders. It would feel too much like testing dangerous waters.

The truth is, you like him. He has become a breath of fresh air in your bitter and depressing days. Every day, you come home while looking forward to his company. He is so different, light, cheerful, effervescent. He talks and talks and talks, about any and everything. And it doesn’t annoy you. Never. He injects something warm in your cold, silent evenings.

You don’t have to worry with him. There’s no agenda here. He doesn’t want anything from you except your company. He takes care of you like no one has for a really long time.

Sometimes, he feels like a dream. And you perpetually carry the fear that one day, he will go away.

He’s still watching you, anticipating your reply. His hands slowly work on the arch of your foot. His eyes, that deep warm brown, pores into yours. For the first time in a long time, you can’t bring yourself to care about consequences. You just nod.

“Okay.”

He ends up seating himself beside you, coaxing you to turn your back to him on the couch. You can feel him touch your sweater before speaking again.

“Would it be better without this?”

You flush but nod, reaching down to tug the sweater off, so you’re left with a long sleeved shirt instead. You feel his touch right in between your shoulder blades. Slowly, he starts pressing into the skin over your shirt.

Chan is way too good with his hands for a creature that didn’t even have hands until a few weeks ago. He digs his thumbs into the lines of your shoulder blades, making your eyes roll as he breaks knot after knot of tension in your muscles. He purses his lips and frowns as he gets a feel of it. You hear a soft huff of breath.

“Your muscles are so tense.” He murmurs. “This only happens to me when I swim for a very, very long time. Hours and hours. With no breaks.”

You crack a little smile at the comparison.

“It feels like that sometimes.” You mumble, staring at the opposite wall while lost in thought. “Like I’m just swimming and swimming. No breaks. No end in sight.”

His touch slows, but doesn’t lose its strength. His fingers coil around your shoulders, kneading. Your eyelids flutter.

“Human lives are difficult.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him in the silence of the muted television screen. “I feel like none of you are happy.”

You purse your lips. “What makes you say that?”

Another exhale, this time almost like a defeat. “You never smile. You never laugh.”

You blink, processing. You don’t know why that is unexpected, but it catches you off guard. Your mind whirs. You think on it.

When was the last time you were truly happy?

When you try to look back on the last few months, you can’t pinpoint anything. Then, a memory floats to the surface, from just a couple of weeks ago. Chan had tried to bake something, and while he succeeded, he left the kitchen in such a mess that he was almost reduced to tears by the end. He had pouted and whined about it, saying it is ’way too difficult’ to make a cheesecake. You couldn’t help but muffle your laughter at his flour caked face.

It still makes you smile.

“You make me happy.” You say.

His hands pause. Not a falter, a complete halt. You wonder if you’ve crossed a line.

“I do?” There’s something shaky in his voice, like he can’t believe it. You just nod.

With the hold Chan has on your shoulders, he maneuvers you to turn around. You do, finally able to see him face to face. Your breath hitches at the hope in his eyes, the unadulterated happiness.

“I make you happy?” He asks again, like he just can’t bring himself to accept it.

You can’t help the lift of your lips. You nod again. “You do.”

You don’t expect him to kiss you, but you don’t stop him either. His lips are endlessly soft, and so, so eager. When you don’t push him away, he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You are hit with the very faint scent of sea salt, and it feels like you’re on the coast. Your heart squeezes. Your hands reach up, cupping his face, and you push harder into him.

Chan whines, whines, lapping at your lips like he needs them to breathe. His tongue licks into your mouth. His enthusiasm is almost too much for you. It should be a surprise, but it’s not, because it’s Chan, and he has always been like this. He hangs on to your every word like it’s law. He looks at you like you’re the mythical creature, not him. You feel his hands now, on your knees before they slide up, gripping your hips tightly. He inhales your every sigh, and something warm and electric coils in the pit of your stomach. Your hand winds in his hair. It’s soft, just the same texture as your (his) coat, and you can’t help but grip it tight. He moans openly into your mouth. It’s too much. You break away for air with a loud gasp.

It doesn’t seem to deter him, because he smooches over your cheek, your jaw, further down your neck. Your eyelids flutter, tilting your head back, your hand still in his hair. You encourage his movements. His tongue licks over your skin. He moans again.

“I want to taste every part of you.” His voice is breathless, desperate. You feel yourself clench. He pulls away so he can look at you, his eyes pleading, brighter than you’ve ever seen them. This close, you can see that his pupils are completely blown.

“Please? Can I?” His tone is shaky.

God, he needs to stop doing that. It’s making wetness pool at an alarming rate between your legs. You so desperately want him down here, it makes your hips buck up involuntarily. You don’t even think about it, all inhibitions thrown out the window. You nod.

He doesn’t let you undress yourself, gently brushing your hands away because he claims he wants to do it himself. He lays you down on the couch, hovers over you on his knees as he peels your clothes off, until you’re left completely naked under him. He watches you with so much hunger in your eyes that your face flames, and it takes everything in your power not to shrink into yourself. Truthfully, you love it, love seeing the sincere lust in his face, the way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes lingering over every inch of you, like he wants all of you.

Something about being so deeply desired has your head spinning.

He is true to his word. His lips trail over every inch of you. He runs them over your shoulders, your arms, even holding your hands gently to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Every few inches, he lays a soft kiss, before going back to running his lips and tongue over the skin. He licks down the valley of your breasts, burying his face in them for a few seconds. He spends extra time on your nipples, sucking and flicking his tongue over them until they are stiff and peaked. By the time he is anywhere close to your core, you’re already gasping and trembling under him in anticipation.

Finally, finally, he spreads your legs. He stares for a long time, thumbing at your outer lips, opening your slit to the cold air, peering at your little nub, swollen and ready, neglected.

“Pretty.” He whispers. “You’re pretty all over. Every inch of you.”

You feel a pressure build behind your eyes. Fuck. You can’t be this lame. You can’t be the one crying during sex. But Chan isn’t touching you, he is worshipping you. In his hold, under his hands, you feel like something precious, something worthy of this kind of reverence. It’s an unprecedented feeling. You don’t think anyone has ever wanted you this much. Not before him.

He leans closer, and you feel his breath on your pussy as he speaks.

“This is it, right? This is where I can pleasure you the most?”

You suddenly remember that Chan isn’t really familiar with human anatomy. So far, you haven’t felt his lack of experience at all, mostly because you think his enthusiasm is so intense that it masks the inexperience completely. You nod at him, swallowing tightly.

“Yeah.”

He licks his lips. “Can I taste it?”

The words are way sexier than you thought they would be. You throw your head back. “God, yes. Please.”

Something about the ‘please’ does it for him, because he licks a long, thick stripe all the way from your clenched hole to your clit, dragging slowly over it. He hums when his tongue withdraws, just for a second, just to taste, and then he’s digging in again, flattening his tongue over and over on your slit, like he approves of the taste, like he wants more.

He’s sloppy, not bothered by the filthy wet noises your sopping cunt makes, lips and tongue running over every nook and cranny. But there’s one spot where you need him the most, and you can’t help it. You wind a hand through his hair, tugging his head up until his tongue runs just over your clit. Your hips jerk.

“There,” you gasp, “right there.”

He’s a quick learner, just like he learned to cook after just a few tries, and how to work the television and your Netflix account, and how he figured out which clothes go together. His tongue flicks eagerly over your clit, like he’s hanging on to every cry and moan that falls from your lips. He must register how the noises amp up when he pays attention to your clit, because he pushes your legs further apart, buries his face deeper into your cunt, wraps his lips around it and sucks hard. Your back arches right off the couch, gripping his hair tightly. He groans into your pussy.

It’s a cycle. His lips and tongue make you feel good, you tug at his hair in encouragement, he hums into you, and the vibrations feel even better, sending chills up your whole body. Your high builds a little too quick, and you wish this could just go on for hours and hours. You have no doubt in your head that if you asked him, he would do exactly that. And very happily too. But your need for release is more pressing than that, so you hold him close, you babble about how you’re almost there, and when your orgasm hits, you go cross eyed with it, wave after wave of pleasure cresting inside you as you shake and cry through it. Chan doesn’t slow for a single second, letting you writhe and twist under him, chasing your hips wherever they go. It’s only when you tug his hair hard enough to pull his head away that he finally stops, looking up at you with dazed, teary eyes. His whole face is sweaty, wet, and blotched pink over his pale cheeks.

He’s a vision.

You pull hard at his sweatshirt until he’s scrambling up your body, and you kiss him hard. He moans appreciatively, immediately licking into your mouth like he needs it to breathe. Your own taste invades your tongue.

“Let me do that again.” He whines. “Please. Wanna make you feel good. Let me lick you again.”

You moan and feel yourself clench hard, head spinning with how badly he’s turning you on. But you feel so empty, and you need him in other ways too, or you feel like you might combust.

“Later.” You promise him. “Need your cock right now.”

“My what?” He pulls back, still looking unfocused as he frowns down at you. You blink a little, clearing the fog in your head a little. Oh.

Your hand travels down until you palm the bulge in his pants. He jerks violently and gasps.

“This,” you whisper, biting your lip. Chan’s eyes shoot down to where it is trapped between your teeth. “Need this inside me.”

“Inside….?”

It’s better to do than to explain, so you push yourself up, arranging him under you until you're straddling his lap where he sits, undoing the drawstring of his sweatpants and pushing them down enough to free his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s girthy, way more than you’ve ever taken before, and he curves just at the tip in a way that you know is going to make you see stars when he fucks you right. You run your hand over him, and he gasps again, hips bucking into your touch.

“Feel good?” You ask. Chan nods furiously.

“Wanna make you feel good.” His voice sounds wrecked. You can’t help your giddy smile at his laser focus on making this pleasurable for you.

“You will.” You adjust yourself until you’re hovering over him, running his tip through your slit. You feel him grip your thighs tightly.

The first slide in is glorious. He’s so thick that he stretches your poor pussy out enough to make your legs tremble violently. He runs his hands over them, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure and pain. If you had more control of your mental faculties, if you weren’t so busy taking his massive cock in, you would try to placate the worry on his face, but you have other things to concern yourself with right now.

The deeper he slides in, the farther up his eyes roll. His jaw goes slack, and you watch with a tinge of amusement as the feeling makes his own face go through a million emotions in the span of a few seconds. It makes you brave, more daring, and it makes you feel so sexy to have the power to make him feel all this for the first time. His grip on your thighs is near bruising, which you don’t think he realises, too lost in how warm and tight your cunt feels. Finally, you are fully seated on him, all the way up to the very base.

“Good?” You manage to gasp out. It seems he chokes on his own words, because he just pulls your body close and jerks his head down in a nod.

“What about you?” He looks up at you, blinking furiously. He looks like he might cry if you say that it doesn’t feel good, not that you would lie like that. You giggle breathlessly.

“It’s so good, Channie.” You coo, running a hand through his hair. “You fill me up perfectly, like you were made for me.”

He whines, so loud and thick with want that you think he might cum right there. He holds you tight against him.

“Yes.” He gasps. “Made for you. My wife. Wanna be with you forever.”

It’s incoherent babbling. Uninhibited because of the lust. You shouldn’t take him seriously. Except you know Chan. You know he doesn’t lie. You know he means this with every fiber in him. Your heart stutters, your exhale shaky. You hug his body tight to you, unable to respond. You want him impossibly closer. You tug at his sweatshirt.

“Off.”

He doesn’t waste a single second, revealing wide expanses of built muscle. You run your eyes over him, hungry for the sight, for the feel of him. Once more, emotion builds inside your chest, filling you up from the inside out.

Finally, when you feel like you’ve adjusted to his size, you rock your hips on him, testing. He gasps immediately, hands running everywhere he can reach you and feel you. You let him, basking under the attention now that your hesitation has melted away and the lust has left you wanting. You slowly build up a rhythm, bouncing on him with less and less care until you feel his cock properly fuck into you the way you wanted. Little gasps and moans leave your lips as well as his. Your body warms under the exertion, the deep penetration making your core clamp up slowly and steadily, pleasure building inside you. Skin against skin makes wet plopping noises, a dirty sound that only adds to what you’re already feeling. It seems Chan just can’t stand to have his mouth unoccupied, because he quickly finds your nipple and starts sucking, making you cry out at the feeling.

Exhaustion starts pulling at your limbs after a while, and you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You’re so close, you can feel it. You just need a little more, his cock really ramming into you, just a few well aimed thrusts and you know you would topple over.

“Chan.” You pull his head up with a tug on his hair, a habit you’ve created by now. “I’m- I’m tired-”

He doesn’t even wait to hear more, gripping your hips tightly and pistoning up hard into you. You gasp, arching into him.

“Like this?” His voice is raspy, rough. You nod vigorously, unable to form words as he keeps going, fucking up hard into you until you feel nothing but the intense stimulation on your sweet spot, his tip rubbing insistently over it again and again. His pelvis grazes your clit just right with every thrust. You don’t even have time to warn him, clamping tight around him as your orgasm racks through your core. Your whole body winds up with the release, toes curling and eyes rolling. Your lips release a mantra of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’ as you weep through it, nearly blacking out with how intense it is.

Chan groans loudly then, and you feel something warm coat your insides. Beneath you, you can feel his body jerk and shake, and you hold him tight against you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He moans into your chest as he comes down from his high.

He leans up, kisses you slowly, softly, a welcome feeling after the harsh pounding you just took. You hum into his lips, savouring the feeling of it. Your head is fuzzy, like someone just cleaned it out, leaving nothing behind. Chan nudges his nose against yours, and you blink your eyes open. His smile is dopey, giddy, and you can’t help your giggle.

“I like you like this,” he whispers, “you look so relaxed.”

“All thanks to you.” You brush his hair away from his sweaty face, scratching his scalp a little. He visibly shivers. You can’t help but smile.

You kiss him again, still light and soft. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Can I lick you again now? Please?”

You are a little caught off guard, huffing in amusement. “I don’t think I have it in me, Channie.”

“I’ll be gentle.” He runs his hands carefully up your bare back, as if to make a point. “Please. Wanna make you feel good.”

Something stirs in your core again. God, this man will be the death of you. Well, not really a man. A selkie. Your selkie. And his blinding smile when you give in to his begging is enough to tell you that there’s no coming back from this.

Not that you would want to. Like Chan said, you want him to be here with you forever.