#draw Doom Days every day
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kiisaes · 5 months ago
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tgck for yuri day 💗 (6/25)
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jvpiterstears · 2 months ago
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“ if i died in the middle of a frozen night, would you feel alright? would you be alright? ”
a
hey guys………, ugghhhh me trying to listen to Stay Behind, Dirty Town, Arms Tonite (OH MY GOODDDDDDDD. THAT ONE.), Back To Life, and Burning Pile trying not to think about either of them (and failing (MISERABLY)) why are they so wet dogs core. doomed yaouri. oHH MY GOD BOTTOM BY MCCAFFEETY JUST STARTED PLAYING AS I WAS WRITING THIS IM GONNA FUCKING SCR EA,MMMMM???? “hey man i miss your collar bones i miss the way your skin feels on my collar bones” i might be unwell about this. they make me sixk disgusting little. little tthings.. /aff
reblogs over likes please !
( all intended ship but can be platonic ::} )
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ostracartderms · 6 months ago
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🐟
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kiwikiswia · 4 months ago
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I'll keep walking on,
even if we never come to understand each other
for the rest of our lives.
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salempie · 8 months ago
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I am giving you this Elka as a token of gratitude. Here she is.
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Just so you know I squealed when I saw this!!! Showed it to my wives immediately, good post op!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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deathtodickens · 2 years ago
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Myka: Somehow I don’t think Artie will be convinced but know that I support your pursuit for hazard pay, one hundred and ten percent…
Helena: I had very few doubts.
Myka: …even as your room sits completely sealed off with caution tape from the last explosive idea you had.
Helena: Hm. I suddenly have a couple extra doubts.
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figofswords · 2 years ago
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I’m so busy that I don’t have time for things that aren’t school or work but I’m also zelda brainrotting again so I’ve just been occasionally going into my zelda of power au master doc and writing a few random paragraphs of fic in no actual order. will I ever pull these random thoughts together into an actual fic and post it? who knows. here’s some ganon content since I’ve shared basically nothing about him.
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gothducky · 10 months ago
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It's so funny seeing people shocked I play Fallen London. I've been playing FL since way back when it was in storynexus. I've loved and played FL for over 10 years
I'm just more vocal about it now that I'm not playing alone anymore
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bixels · 2 months ago
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End-of-Splatoon thoughts.
Thinking about how since the very start, Splatoon has had a feature where players can draw and post artwork and spot them as graffiti on walls or billboards. Or how the weapons have always been paint brushes and rollers and ballpoint pens. Since its inception, Splatoon has been dedicated to engaging its players with the act of creation and creative expression, showing them how their art can build communities and (literally) change the world.
Thinking about finding golden human-made music discs buried underground for thousands of years, and a grand finale music festival. About the Voyager Golden Records. About those human handprints etched into concrete in Alterna. Did those human artists know it would end like this? First a fiery death and then, eventually, a worldwide celebration of music to represent our shared past, present, and future. Did they know that their songs, insignificant in the face of extinction, would one day become the solution that will save the next dominant life-form from the same fate?
Thinking about how eerily similar the Octarian domes are to Alterna. About how close Inklings and Octolings were to repeating the same mistakes as humans. But their doomed fates were undone not by some miracle technology or military power or a rocket, but by music.
Thinking about how humans wiped themselves out with war, and our parting gifts were liquid crystals that somehow paired with the DNA of primeval inklings and somehow infused them with our memories and culture and a Song. And 12,000 years in the future, that same Song will end a war.
Thinking about how art and music and punk culture and rock & roll and friendly competition and petty arguments and water guns aren’t uniquely human concepts, but the fundamental qualities of intelligent life. An inheritable spirit that can cross evolutionary bounds.
Thinking about the theme of Splatoon, that art and music and fun will not die with the human race. That every piece of art we create is a seed we sow for future generations to reap. That our legacy is ingrained into the crust of the earth. That long after we’re gone, the oceans will remember, and they’ll pick up where we left off.
Thinking about how Splatoon says that the essence of humanity –– the thing that will outlive us –– isn't war or prejudice or destruction or greed, it's a song.
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quirkycritters · 1 month ago
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Game Night: CHAIN ATTACK!!!
i am,,, withering away but ITS DONE ITS DONE IM FREE FROM THE CURSE (<<< still haunted by wips) clocking in at 32+ hours, this sucker has been getting pushed around for 10 months-
while theres some things i would have done differently if i could redo this from scratch, i still had a BLAST cramming in as much detail as i could tolerate >:) some highlights / cut ideas / ramblings are below the cut, but please zoom for details! (if tumblr doesnt shred it to bits)
gonna be real i locked so hard onto drawing ripped jeans that i forgot i could have just shoved legend into a skirt and called it a day
SOCKS. SOCKS. the amount of Joy anytime i figured out how to personalize them with game references: legend (hibiscus), twilight (ordon goats), and four (force gems)
i WAS going to put time in a turtleneck, but had an epiphany and started digging for the most obnoxious hawaiian shirts i could find,,, ft. a sea flower (wind waker) and a saturation boosted plumm (twilight princess)!
yeah so warriors got the sweater instead of the skintight shirt, sorry gang
speaking of if i ever say im going to draw a cableknit sweater again, somebody PLEASE shake some sense into me- warriors sweater was a NIGHTMARE since my art program has an astonishing lack of good brushes (and yet here i am still using it)
MOST of the text has been modified using the twilight princess cipher because yeah. i was procrastinating shading. also the other ciphers were in japanese- times shirt is cropped, but reads "its 5 oclock somewhere"
winds lobster shirt :) that is all i just think its neat
wilds jacket :) link w(ild) 2017, aka the release year of botw
jewelry! sky has the fireshield earrings, and wild has the amber earrings~ could barely squeeze the bombos and quake medallions onto legend, and wind got the joy pendant
hyrule :D embroidery on his sweatpants because i was struck by whimsy- also i 100% thought his shield was purple tinted for weeks while drawing this because the page i used as reference was set at night, and i was originally basing his sweater on his shield- scrapped the cross pattern after several failed attempts but kept the color ^^
the chips are bbq because im biased (reads "crisps" in twilight princess cipher for no real reason except whimsy)
bless my dearest homie for game reccs because the og plan was to have them all be loz games! titles include wii sports resort, elebits, super mario party, smash bros ultimate, just dance 2016 (its box art is colorful ok), and myth makers orbs of doom (I HATE THIS GAME WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, as i should, anyways i should play it again). four is suggesting orbs of doom, buddy aint even playing,,,
kinda was hoping to play around with hair colors and skin tones a bit more, but again, see the hour count- ill get em next time surely,,, also blue vs violet eyes for legend already had me in decision paralysis
the whole gang was gonna have friendship bracelets with color combos based on dynamics i found neat but oops! didnt finish the layer :')
thats a wrap! didnt yap about everything but im curious what yall catch onto- anyways surely ive learned something about biting off more than i can chew (<<< lying liar who lies)
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onlymingyus · 2 months ago
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i want to write you a song
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pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff
summary; You have the best job in the world as Lee Jihoon's personal assistant but his secrets are starting to turn your world upside down.
content warnings; personal assistant!reader, ceo/boss!jihoon, single dad!jihoon, children, grandparents/parents, jihoon has a sibling, coworkers!soonyoung, mingyu, & wonwoo, soonyoung in a menace, eating/drinking, alcohol, jealousy, crying, self confidence/esteem issues, death of a family member (in the past).
smut warnings; unprotected sex, pulling out, cream pie, simp!jihoon, mild dom!jihoon, sub!reader, the dom/sub dynamics are very subtle, dumbification (very mild), innocence kink, lingerie kink, pet names, praise (like a lot -- he is a simp), body worship, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, crying (from pleasure and happiness), manhandling, masturbation, pillow princess!reader, i am sure there are more (let me know if its glaring) -- bonus section has its own warnings on patreon.
w/c; 27k and some change (3.2k extra words for patreon bonus)
a/n; thank you to @junkissed and @seokgyuu for helping me come up with a title for this! it's a 1D song, and I do not go here, but it's a very cute song and title! also thank you to my june for proofreading for me and always being the best in the fucking world. literally going through 30k words of my bullshit... the mvp! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy me simping over simp dlif jihoon! next month is spooky seasons so keep your eyes peeled for that one 💀!  
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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Whining under your breath, you clutch the drink holder to your chest as you watch the door close in front of you. It didn’t seem to matter how quickly you were trying to get your feet to move in your heels; the door closing was like an impending doom. That was how your entire day felt from the moment you woke up. You were trying to be good at your job. For the past month, you had been doing your best to make a good impression at the company and on your new boss, but it seemed like something would happen to make you look like an idiot. 
“No, no, no! Fuck!” The words come from your lips louder than you intended as you try to put the toe of your shoe between the door and the frame, only to be a second to late watching it close with a deafening clang in front of you. Stomping your foot out of frustration, you feel something cold and wet seeping through the front of your shirt, drawing your eyes down. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 
The world was out to get you. That was the only excuse you had as you moved the drink tray from your chest, seeing the coffee stain spreading along your chest towards your stomach. In your temper tantrum, you had managed to knock the lid off one of the coffees, and now you were wearing your mistake. 
Tears prick at your eyes as you try to balance the drinks in one hand and your bags in the other to fish for your badge. Sniffing back your frustration and embarrassment, you barely glance to your left as someone uses their badge to open the door and hold it open for you. “Thanks… I’m such a mess.” 
Jihoon grins at you as you pout down at your shirt. You were a mess. You had been a bit of a mess from the moment he hired you, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still good at your job. You were easy on the eyes, good with his schedule, and you had never missed a day of work—even if you were a couple minutes late. “I have some things upstairs, Miss Y/L/N. Don’t worry about it. Let me take the coffee.” 
The sound of your boss's voice makes your eyes widen as you look in his direction, a soft gasp escaping from your mouth as your lips part in shock. You had been trying so hard to beat him back to the office. You were trying to make a good impression on him and the others in the office by providing an afternoon coffee every single day—today you were failing. 
“Mr. Lee… Oh, I—no, sir. I can—” Shaking his head, Jihoon slides his fingers over yours, taking the tray from your hand before gesturing towards the door once again. “You do too much, Miss Y/L/N. Did one of the guys tell you to pick these up? They shouldn’t. It’s not your job.” 
Taking a step forward, you stumble, feeling Jihoon’s hand on your lower back guide you through the door. Shaking your head, you pull your jacket over your coffee-stained shirt and press your lips together as you adjust your bags to both arms and dare to glance at your boss once again. “No… I just thought they might like them. A little pick-me-up. One for you too.” 
Jihoon smirks softly as he moves his hand from your back to press the call button for the elevator for the both of you. Lifting his brow, he looks back at the drinks in his hand before sighing and tilting his head. “You’re kind. It’s not necessary. I rarely drink coffee, honestly.” 
Watching your face fall in disappointment, Jihoon sighs, following you into the elevator before shaking his head. “But, with that said... I am very appreciative and I’ll enjoy it today, Miss Y/L/N. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” 
Nodding, you swallow hard, thinking back to all the days over the month when you had brought him coffee and saw the confusion on his face as he slid it away. He really didn’t like coffee, did he? You should pay more attention. “It has. Um, I–sir? If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?” 
The ding of the elevator draws Jihoon’s eyes up to the numbers at the top of the door before he grins at your question. You were so cute; it was endearing. You were trying too hard to impress him when you already had. Sighing softly, Jihoon nods his head forward, waiting for you to get off the elevator first when the doors open, before he walks beside you, meeting your gaze. “Coke Zero, actually.” 
It was so unexpected for someone like Lee Jihoon. He was the CEO and star producer of Ruby Entertainment. You expected someone like him, someone who was on the cover of magazines, who had more money than God to drink merlot for breakfast, yet he preferred a Coke Zero for an afternoon pick-up. Grinning, you nod as you drop your bags at your desk and offer to take the drink tray from Jihoon. “I’ll remember that.” 
Giving you a slow once-over, Jihoon meets your eyes and laughs under his breath. “I’m sure you will; you’re good at details.” Starting to turn towards his office, Jihoon stops and gestures towards you and back to his office. “I have extra button-ups in my office closet. You’re welcome to wear one. Might be a little ill-fitting, but...” 
Taking a deep breath, you think about his offer before nodding. You were internally freaking out over the idea of wearing your boss's clothes, but you could feel the wet shirt against your skin at this point and something dry was tempting. Reaching for one of the coffees, Jihoon smirks at you before nodding his head towards his office, not waiting for you to follow him as he brings the drink to his lips and takes a sip. 
Glancing around Jihoon’s office, you watch him move to his desk as if he hadn’t just offered you his clothes before you look at the farthest wall where the closet in question is located. You had put plenty of things in it. That was one of your jobs—pick up dry cleaning, bring it back to the office and put it in the closet. Jihoon liked to work out before work and needed something to change into. 
Sighing to yourself, you shake the thought of Jihoon fresh from the gym in the morning from your head as you cross the room and open the closet, looking over the neatly pressed button-ups. Watching you from his desk, Jihoon makes a small face at the taste of his coffee before smiling to himself as you stare at the shirts in the closet as if there is a wrong choice in front of you. He didn’t have that many different options. He wasn’t an adventurous man when it came to his clothes. He wore white, black, blue, and gray. 
“Pick anything, Miss Y/L/N. Any of them will look lovely on you.” 
That wasn’t helping. You were trying not to panic as you laughed awkwardly and glanced over your shoulder to nod politely towards Jihoon before picking out a white button-up and pulling it towards you. “This one, I guess. I’ll bring it back after I have it dry cleaned, sir.” 
Jihoon watches as you stumble over your feet in your heels, quickly making your way towards his office door. Leaning forward in case you were to fall, he sighs when you reach out your hand and laugh at yourself. “I’m okay, Mr. Lee. Just going to change quickly and get back to work. I apologize for all the inconvenience.” 
Settling back in his chair, Jihoon shakes his head as his door closes and he watches you rush towards the bathroom with his shirt in your hands. Muttering under his breath, he takes another sip of his drink as he looks at his computer screen, scrolling through emails. “You’re not an inconvenience, Y/N…” 
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Resting the straw of his coffee against his lips, Soonyoung smirks at you as he tilts his head, giving you a once-over. You were attractive—there was no questioning that. What was making him give you a second and third glance today as you passed out your cute little afternoon coffees was that your shirt was different than it had been before lunch. It was too big for you, almost as if—”Ya, Y/N? Are you wearing your boyfriend’s clothes to work? Did you do something spicy at lunch?” 
Your fingers almost slip from the coffee in your hand as you offer the last one to Wonwoo, his eyes moving to your shirt as Mingyu leans back in his chair to get a better look at you. Your face was on fire and you wanted to kill Kwon Soonyoung. 
“What? No! Oh my god... I don’t—shut up. No, I don’t even… I’m not dating anyone, Soonyoung. I had an accident with the coffee. This is Mr. Lee—” Stopping mid-explanation, you avoid the eyes of the three men even as you feel Soonyoung’s smirk get wider out of the corner of your eye. “Shut the fuck up... No, you are not wearing Jihoon’s clothes! You little slut.” 
Sinking down in your chair outside of Jihoon’s office, you rest your head in your hands as Wonwoo tells Soonyoung to stop teasing you, but the man just laughs, catcalling from across the room even as he gets sheet music thrown in his direction by Mingyu. 
“Leave her alone, Soonyoung. She’s gonna pass out.” Even though Mingyu was "helping,"  you could hear the teasing in his voice. He wasn’t much better than Soonyoung. You could feel his eyes moving over you from his desk and as you met his eyes, you instantly regretted it as he smirked. “You look hot, Y/N. I bet Jihoon was losing his fuckin’ mind seeing you in his—” 
The sound of Jihoon’s office door opening to your right causes everyone to stop teasing, though a few snickers remain. Staring at your laptop, you hear Jihoon clear his throat before you dare glance at him, seeing a soft smile on his face. At least he wasn’t like the other idiots you worked with. He was professional. He would never make you feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like you the way that Soonyoung or Mingyu thought that he did. That was ridiculous. 
“I hate to ask you for a favor after such a long day, but—have you met, uh, Haein?” Furrowing your brows, you shake your head. You had heard the name, but you hadn’t met the woman the name belonged to. You assumed she must be someone important to Jihoon—a sister, aunt, or significant other. You hadn’t let your mind linger. 
“Right… I forget how short of a time you’ve been here. Uh, shit. This is not what I hired you for, but at the same time…” Glancing at his watch, Jihoon sighs and meets your eyes once more. “Do you know where the elementary school is on the corner of Fifth and Cline?” 
Now you are even more confused. You could hear the others in the room whispering, but you didn’t have time to give them a thought as you nodded and Jihoon offered you his car keys. “Perfect. Haein isn’t feeling well. I have that meeting to hopefully sign Seokmin in half an hour or I’d just cancel. We can’t afford to lose him.” 
“I—okay. Sure. I’ll go get Haein.” Jihoon could see the confusion and concern in your eyes and yet you were on your feet, your purse in one hand and his keys in the other. Your brows furrowed, and you tilted your head, trying to get your head around what you were being asked to do, when Jihoon’s fingers wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back towards him. “She’s in Mr. Hong’s class; they know to expect you.” 
Carefully pulling the blacked-out Range Rover into the parking lot, you first lean down to glance at the school in front of you before turning around to look at the booster seat in the back. You were picking up a child. You were picking up Jihoon’s child? Lee Jihoon had a child. 
Your brain was working overtime as you slid out of the seat and held your boss’s keys tight to your chest like a safety net. You were beginning to realize that you knew little to nothing about him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t looked him up on the internet. You had done your research before your interview and you thought you knew everything there was to know about Jihoon and his company—but nowhere on any of his biographies on any website did it mention “father”. 
Smiling at the woman behind the desk, you nod your head and clear your throat in an attempt to not only calm your nerves, but to look like you belong. “I’m here to pick up Lee Haein. She is in Mr. Hong’s class.” Tilting her head at you, the woman studies you for a moment before looking over the screen in front of her and pursing her lips. “Miss Y/L/N?” 
Quickly nodding, you reach into your purse, offering the woman your ID before taking a clipboard that would allow you to sign Haein out of school. “Do you know where the nurse’s station is?” You had never even been inside of this school, so the question makes your brows raise as you awkwardly laugh and offer the clipboard back to the woman. Sighing under her breath, she moves to her feet and leans over the desk, pointing back towards the door and to the left. “It’s the third down the hall. Haein will be waiting with the nurse.” 
“Thank you.” Your voice is meeker than you intended as you back out of the office and into the hall, turning to the left and making your way down the hall, counting doors. Lucky for you, it wasn’t hard to find; not only did the woman give you great directions, but the word Nurse adoring the door would have given the location away—even to you. 
Knocking lightly, you push the door open and wince at the automatic ding from the door alarm. You understood why it was there, but you already felt out of place and now all eyes were on you—even if it was just two sets of eyes. 
“Looks like you get to go home now, Haein.” The man’s voice is soft and kind. You smile at the little girl who looks at you uncertainly before you put your hand to your chest and sigh into your words. “I’m Y/N, Haein. Mr. Lee’s…um—your dad’s assistant.” 
The girl looked no older than six, and she also didn’t seem to be pleased that you were picking her up instead of Jihoon. “Where is he?” Even the sound of Haein’s voice made your heart feel heavy; she did sound pitiful. 
“He’s at the office. I’m sure he’ll come home as soon as possible.” Looking back at the nurse, you take Haein’s bag when it’s offered to you before furrowing your brows tightly as you glance between him and the girl. “Should I take her to the doctor?” 
Shaking his head, the man moves to his feet and runs his hand over Haein’s head as she pouts up at you both. “If she’s feeling bad in the morning, I’d say to make her an appointment. This might just be a bit of a headache and an itchy throat.” Ruffling her hair, the man watches the girl finally smile as he nods at her. “We can be hopeful, right?” 
Walking beside Haein, you glance down at her a few times before the small girl meets your eyes and furrows her brows once the two of you are outside near the car. “Are you taking me to my daddy?” 
Opening the back door, you purse your lips, watching Haein climb into the back and her booster seat waiting for you to not only answer her but to buckle her seat belt. Making a surprised sound, you lean forward and secure the belt as you tilt your head back and forth a few times. “Uh, I—he didn’t. You know what, I’ll ask, but wouldn’t you rather go lay down?” 
Timidly, you reach up, putting your hand against her forehead, a frown finding your lips at the warmth under your palm. “We could get you something for your headache, as long as that’s okay with your dad.” 
Haein pouts a bit, leaning her head back against the seat as you give her a once-over. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, but her first impression of you was shifting. You were being nice and you were pretty. It was funny how you kept stumbling over your words, especially when you were talking about her daddy. 
“I’m sleepy…” Pausing, Haein tilts her head and grabs at your hand, landing on holding your fingers as she kicks off her shoes into the floorboard. “What was your name? I don’t member. Sorry.” 
There was no way you could be upset as you looked down at your fingers wrapped up in tiny ones. Clearing your throat, you press your lips together and nod at Haein before finding your voice. “Y/N.” 
Nodding along with your words, Haein finally lets go of your hand and yawns your name as you take a step back and close the door, letting her rest. You could see something of Jihoon in the girl, but it wasn’t a physical resemblance; it was more mannerisms. Perhaps her physical appearance was something she took after her mom. 
Her mom… Was Jihoon married? You hadn’t seen a ring on his finger, but then again, you didn’t know about a child so there was plenty he kept secret. Sighing softly, you take out your phone as you slide behind the wheel of the car, waiting for your call to connect. Adjusting the rearview mirror, your lips pull up into a soft smile as you watch Haein sleeping soundly behind you—at least you are smiling until Jihoon speaks, then your nerves take over. 
“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did you get Haein?” 
Rubbing your lips together, you nod before remembering Jihoon isn’t in front of you. “Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Lee. She’s napping in the car now. I just—” Pausing your brows furrowing when you realize that Jihoon had used your first name. You had heard it a few times from him, but it was so rare. “I, um—where did you want me to take her? You didn’t tell me.” 
Glancing back into his office, where Mingyu was doing his best charm routine with Lee Seokmin, Jihoon smiles at the idea of Haein napping. He was worried about her, but knowing that she was with you eased his nerves exponentially. “There is a key to my house on the keyring for the car. You know the address, don’t you?” 
You did know the address. You had dropped off a few things there once or twice in the time you had been his assistant, but you had never been inside for more than a few moments and never while he wasn’t there and you had never gone past the foyer. “I—yes, sir. Do you have—is someone waiting there for us? To take care of Haein? Her mother?” 
Wincing to your question, Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair as he paces in front of his door. He was feeling anxious; not only at your questions, but also at the fact that he wasn’t in that room getting signatures on paper. “Uh, no. No, could you? I mean, I know it’s not your job, but I’d really appreciate it. I’ll leave as soon as this deal is done.” 
You had already pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of where you’d need to go to get to Jihoon’s house, but his question had you feeling faint. He wanted you to do what? To babysit his daughter? He was taking personal assistance to another level. 
“Me? Well… I—I guess so. I mean, if you need me to, trust me with something so important, sir.” You hear Jihoon scoff on the other end of the phone and you wonder if you have said something wrong. Before you are able to question him, he sighs, and his voice drops not only in volume but in tone, causing your stomach to tighten. “I trust you with everything, Y/N, so yes, I trust you with Haein.” 
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Even after being off the phone with Jihoon for over an hour and being inside his house with his daughter tucked into her bed, you were still trying to get his voice out of your head. His words were on a loop in your head and you were feeling pathetic. Clearly, you were taking them a bit too seriously or at least in the wrong way. 
Jihoon trusted you as his assistant. That was why he trusted you with his family. That was why he trusted you in his house without him. That was why you shouldn’t snoop around, and yet you were, just a little. You couldn’t help it. Lee Jihoon was a fascinating man and he sent you a single text on your way to his house. 
Mr. Lee: Make yourself at home. Be there soon. 
So in order to make yourself feel at home, you needed to know where things were in this large home. You had most of the layout figured out. You had easily found the kitchen and Haein’s room with her help. Before tucking her in, you had also found her bathroom and some children’s tylenol to help with her fever. Now you were discovering that Jihoon had a home studio, because, of course, he did. 
There were pictures of Haein everywhere now that you really took the time to look past the foyer, but more than that, there were pictures of her with other people. Tilting your head, you pick up a framed picture from a bookshelf, noticing how the man holding a much smaller Haein looked so much like her. He had some similarities to Jihoon, but most of all, he had Haein’s eyes and her nose. 
You wanted to keep studying the picture, but the sound of the front door made your heart rise into your throat as you carefully put the picture back where it belonged and moved back into the living room just in time to see Jihoon do the same. Glancing around the room, he takes a breath before he meets your eyes and lets it out with a sigh. 
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Again, you weren’t going to let that go to your head. Instead, you watch as Jihoon rubs at his neck, his other hand loosening his tie as he moves towards the couch to sit down. “Is Haein sleeping? I seriously can’t thank you enough for this, Miss Y/L/N.” 
It almost made you sad that Jihoon hadn’t called you by your first name in person. You liked how it sounded on his lips, even though you shouldn’t. Smoothing your hands over your borrowed shirt, you nod as you move towards where your bags waited for you in a chair next to the couch Jihoon was now occupying. 
“She is, it wasn’t an issue, Mr. Lee.” Clearing your throat as Jihoon watches you fidget in place. “I gave her a dose of the children’s tylenol that was in her bathroom. She was running a bit of a fever, but I checked her a few minutes ago and it seems to be a bit better now.” Grabbing your purse, you sigh under your breath, realizing for the first time since you had arrived at Jihoon’s that you had driven his car there; yours was still at the office. 
Jihoon tilts his head as you take out your cellphone and start scrolling, your purse resting on your forearm. “Thank you for doing that... What are you doing?” You were clearly concentrating on something hard; your brows were knitted together so tight that you were almost scowling at your phone. “I—uh, ordering a ride.” 
Running his hand over his face, Jihoon shakes his head before leaning back on the couch and finally meeting your eyes once again. “I won’t tell you what to do, however... I’d strongly prefer you not do that. I was hoping—” 
The confusion is written on your face as Jihoon stops speaking, as if coming up with his words on the spot. To you, he always seemed so confident, if not a bit intimidating, when in reality, right now he was mustering his courage. “I was hoping that you’d stay for dinner and then let me get you home. I’ll have someone here to help with Haein in a couple hours, and then I can drive you to your car myself.” 
Glancing around the room, you take a breath and fill your cheeks with air as you consider his words. Finally meeting his eyes again, you nod and watch as a smile pulls at Jihoon’s lips, making it impossible for you not to mirror it shyly. 
“Really? Okay… great. Perfect—uh yeah. I’ll go check on Haein, say hi, and, uh, be right back.” Jihoon was not only overflowing with confidence, but he was also articulate and precise. You were now watching him stumble over his words, a slight flush to his cheeks as he tapped his hand over the arm of the couch and got to his feet. Surely you were reading too much into this. You had to be, even as you watched Lee Jihoon glance over his shoulder at you, his hip knocking into a chair as he walked out of the room. 
Sighing under his breath, Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair as he turns down the hall and is finally out of your line of sight. “Real fuckin’ smooth. Get it together.” While his words were muttered under his breath, Jihoon still feared you might hear him as he shook out his hands and took a steady breath. 
It wasn’t easy to be around you like this. At work, it was so much simpler to play into his role as your boss. He got into the zone once he stepped into the building, but here? He could really see you. He could let his eyes wander more, not that he hadn’t been doing that more at the office. You were the most beautiful woman that Jihoon had ever seen and while that hadn’t been the reason that he had hired you as his personal assistant, it was a bonus. The fact that you were also one of the most interesting and endearing people that he had ever met? Well, that was icing on top of the cake. 
Carefully pushing the door to Haein’s room open, Jihoon frowns a bit, seeing the way the girl’s brows were knitted together as she slept. She somehow looked even smaller than normal. Being as gentle as possible, Jihoon sits on the side of her bed and runs his fingers over her forehead, feeling for any signs of a lingering fever. He knew that you had given her medicine. However, parental instinct was taking over. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had always possessed. It wasn’t something he had even wanted, but for Haein, he’d do anything. 
Fidgeting in her sleep, Haein turns on her side and wraps her hand around Jihoon’s as she mutters softly under her breath. It isn’t clear, but Jihoon knows it’s 'daddy,” and it makes his heart beat faster. “Shh, sleep, baby. Grandma will be over in a bit.” 
Jihoon’s voice is soft and lulls Haein back to a deeper sleep, allowing him to carefully work his hand away from hers so he can move back to his feet and towards her door. It’s almost painful to leave her, even if he knows she needs the rest and that you are waiting for him, but a soft snore slipping from his daughter’s lips gives him the strength he needs to get moving. 
Looking around the living room, you start to wander once again as you wait for Jihoon. There was so much to see in his home compared to what you were used to. While you had never forgotten how successful your boss was, seeing it around you made it all that more real. 
Admiring the art on his walls, you sigh softly, not hearing him come into the room behind you, which gives him a moment to admire you. You belonged; there wasn’t any way to explain how his brain was screaming that at him, but looking at you standing in his living room already wearing his shirt. Jihoon’s brain was misfiring at the image. 
“Uh, she’s still asleep, but her fever seems to have gone down, thanks to you.” Glancing over your shoulder, you feel your cheeks heat up when you realize that Jihoon is looking at you. He was quiet, or perhaps you were just distracted, but either way, his eyes were intense as he smiled at you now. 
“I’m glad she’s doing better. She is very sweet.” Sighing as you lift your shoulders and drop them, and turning towards Jihoon as he moves towards the kitchen, you take a few steps towards him to follow. “I feel kinda bad for not really knowing much about her. I feel like, as your assistant, I’ve done a bad job of getting to know my boss. I didn’t even know you didn’t like coffee, much less that you had a daughter and a family.” 
Tilting his head, Jihoon smiles into a laugh as he leans to open a cabinet, taking out a pot and sitting it on the stove. “Well, I mean... In your defense, I don’t really tell many people my personal details. There are a few in the office who know some things about me, but—” Clicking his tongue before laughing once again, Jihoon meets your eyes as he leans against the cabinets. “You’ll get to know me, I promise. Is ramen okay?” 
Watching someone cook for you—especially ramen—isn’t how you thought you’d fall head over heels for someone, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Jihoon. Of course you had found him attractive before; how could you not? He looked like a million bucks at work in his suits without a tie, his hair perfectly styled. You practically drooled over him, but here in his kitchen, as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him push the sleeves of his button-up further up his arms as he chopped the green onions and kept an eye on the ramen coming to a boil, you were swooning. 
“I think we can get Seokmin finalized by the end of this week.” Jihoon’s words pull you out of your domestic haze and back to the present as you finally meet his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn under his gaze. Nodding, you look away, feeling shy as you reach for the glass of water that was placed in front of you moments before. “That would be good; I know you were itching to get him under the label. He’s really talented.” 
Jihoon hums along with your words, his eyes still on you even when you look down at your glass and tap your fingers on the side. God, you were stunning. This was the longest he had ever had the chance to spend with you and he knew he was wasting it by talking about work, but he was terrified. No other woman made him as nervous as you did. It was as if he would say the wrong thing and you’d fly away like a bird. 
“He is. Once he’s signed, I hope to get him in the studio as soon as possible. It’s been far too long since we’ve had a new artist debut with us. His last label didn’t understand his voice; I think I could—” Jihoon watches your lips pull up into a smile as he starts to ramble, causing him to trail off. A soft laugh takes the place of his words instead as he shakes his head and reaches for an egg, cracking it into the pot in front of him. “I don’t want to talk about work; I don’t know why I’m even doing it.” 
Tilting your head, you watch Jihoon’s hands as he discards the shell of the egg and rests his palms on the counter. “Because it’s easy. It’s what you know. You’re good at your job, Mr. Lee.” 
Sucking his teeth, Jihoon turns from the stove and opens a cabinet in front of him to take out two bowls. “I wish you wouldn’t be so formal with me. It makes me feel like I have to do it again. Just call me Jihoon, please.” 
The idea of calling Jihoon anything other than Mr. Lee makes your stomach tighten. You heard the others in your office call him by his first name and you had said it to yourself on occasion but never to him. The heat was rising along your neck and to your cheeks once again as you avoided Jihoon’s eyes, a soft smile on your lips. “Okay, Jihoon.” 
That was better than anything Jihoon had ever written or heard in his life. If there was anything that he knew, it was music. He knew how to write lyrics that would bring a grown man to tears, and yet when you said his name, that smile on your face almost broke him. 
Letting out a breath, Jihoon’s shoulders drop before he licks his lips and forces himself back to the task at hand. Dividing the ramen between the two bowls and giving you the egg, he slides your bowl towards you and rests his elbow on the counter. “I hope you like it, Y/N.” 
You cant stop the quiet laugh that slips from between your lips when Jihoon calls you by your first name, your cheeks warming like a schoolgirl who has a crush. Pressing your lips together, you nod and pick up your chopsticks and see Jihoon smiling out of the corner of your eye as he waits for you to take the first bite before joining you. The food is simple and warms you from the inside out. It was something you’d make for yourself after a long day, but there was something special about it being made for you and the fact that it was made by Jihoon. “It’s delicious. Thank you…” 
Even Jihoon had to admit that this was one of his better bowls of ramen. Perhaps it tasted better because he was sharing it with you, or maybe because he had put more heart into cooking it, but the broth was the perfect level of spice and savory on his tongue. Humming as he leans over his bowl, Jihoon nods before quietly slurping the noodles into his mouth and licking his lips. “My pleasure; the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.” 
You hadn’t done much, not in your mind. You knew that Jihoon was busy. He was always at the office before you and it seemed like while he left before the rest of the staff, there was a good reason. Now you understand that he was probably picking up Haein. He was even busier than you knew. 
Dropping off her bag on the table next to the front door, Jihoon’s mother is surprised when he doesn’t meet her. The soft hum of voices draws her closer to the kitchen, but seeing the look in her son’s eyes as he watches you eat and smile makes her pause. She knew that she could say something and let Jihoon know that she was there, but it was the first time that she had seen her son in love and she wanted to relish it. 
Laughing softly, Jihoon takes a sip of his Coke before nodding along with your words as he learns a bit about your life. He loved learning about you—about your family, your wish for a pet, anything you were willing to share. It felt like time had frozen with you until something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Jihoon’s cheeks started to flush. 
“Mom…” 
Mom? Sitting up straight, you glance in the same direction that Jihoon is looking, only for your eyes to widen to see a pretty older woman watching you both. The look on her face is kind, and her eyes are full of what seems like endearment as she laughs at both of your surprised reactions. 
“Why are you both acting like I caught you doing something wrong? Please eat.” Moving towards her son, Jihoon’s mother leans to kiss his cheek before she meets your eyes as you wipe your lips and adjust your clothes, trying to look as presentable as possible in front of someone so important. “Who is this beautiful girl, Jihoon?”
Sighing, Jihoon closes his eyes for a moment, hearing his mother’s words, before he opens them and meets you almost apologetically before clearing his throat. “This is Y/N, um... Y/N Y/L/N, my assistant.” 
Still smiling fondly at you, Jihoon’s mother reaches across the island to offer you her hand, which you take, letting her squeeze your hand gently. “It is such an honor to meet you, dear. I’ve never met any of Jihoon’s—” Stopping to think of the word, his mother smiles almost mischievously, turning to meet her son’s eyes. “Girlfriends.” 
Opening your mouth to start to explain that you aren’t his girlfriend, that you are just, as he explained, his assistant, you aren’t quick enough as Jihoon moves to stand, laughing awkwardly and taking his mother’s arm. “Mom, thank you for coming to help. Haein should be waking up. I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you. We will be right back, Y/N.” 
Lifting your now-free hand to your lips, you nod and gesture to the dishes before sliding off your stool. “Um, okay. I’ll wash the dishes.” Jihoon turns to walk backwards, his hand still on his mother as he shakes his head. “No, no… I’ll get them later. I’ll be right back.” 
Turning the corner with his mother in tow, Jihoon finally meets her eyes, watching her smile widen before the two are out of line of sight of you. “What was that?” Reaching up to adjust Jihoon’s shirt, his mother carefully buttons one more button before lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “She’s very pretty, Jihoon.” Groaning, Jihoon rolls his eyes, turning away from his mother’s hand and opening Haein’s door, letting her go in first. He wasn’t going to admit out loud to his mother that she was right. 
Humming along with a song in your head, you glance over your shoulder, hearing a scoff when Jihoon finally comes back to the kitchen. Clearly, you hadn’t listened to him with your hands in soapy dishwater up to your forearms. “I’m almost done. There were just a few things.” 
“I told you I’d do them later.” Shaking your head, you use your elbow to turn on the sink, rinsing the last bowl as Jihoon moves to your side, his hand brushing subconsciously along your back as he takes it from you and puts it on the drying rack. “I wanted to help, besides... When you get back home, I’m sure you will have to take care of Haein, shower, and get ready for bed. Now this is done.” 
Sighing softly, Jihoon turns to rest his hip against the counter as you rinse the soap from your hands. This was all so domestic, and the fact that you were worried about simple things like him having the time to take a shower before bed? Jihoon was not letting that go to his head, not even a little bit. 
“And what about you? You’ll have to drive all the way home before you can do any of that for yourself. I feel awful.” Offering Jihoon a smile, you dry your hands before finally meeting his eyes and realizing how close he was standing. Swallowing hard, your smile fades ever so slightly as you take a single step back and fold the towel in your hands as you shake your head once again. "I—um, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.” 
Jihoon was realizing that was impossible. He was having a hard time taking his eyes off of you, much less his mind. His smile lifting at one corner of his lips, Jihoon nods before gesturing his head towards the kitchen entryway. "Then, in the spirit of that, let me get you to your car so I don’t keep you out all night.” 
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A shirt folded in your arms, a Coke Zero in one hand, and your bag in the other, you make your way to your desk even as Soonyoung leans back in his desk chair to get a better look at you. Over the past few weeks he was getting easier and easier to ignore, even if he was also becoming one of your best friends. 
“No coffee?” Lifting your brows to Soonyoung’s question, you pick up the Coke from your desk and smile at him sweetly before knocking on Jihoon’s door as the other man groans about having to get his own. 
“Come in.” 
Taking a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and slide past the large door letting it close behind you. Making your way towards his desk, you carefully avoid Jihoon’s eyes until you are too close to do so. “Hi, so I have your shirt and this.” 
Jihoon smiles as you sit the Coke Zero in front of him before moving towards his closet to hang up the borrowed shirt. “Thanks, Y/N.” Nodding, you glance over your shoulder as you try to put the hanger on the rack once and then twice before finally hitting your mark. “Sure, no biggie. I remembered.” 
His smile pulls into more of a full grin as he watches you struggle with the hanger. You were even cuter than normal, if that were possible. He had hated saying goodnight to you the night before, but he really felt like he had made progress with you. This as the most he had seen you in his office in a long time. 
Swallowing hard, you turn on your heels and press your lips together before gesturing towards Jihoon and smiling softly. “How is Haein feeling?” 
Jihoon liked this casual conversation, even if it was about his daughter. He wished you’d sit down, but even he had to remind himself that he should keep it somewhat professional at the office. Cracking open the drink in front of him, Jihoon nods and meets your eyes once again. “She’s okay, still a bit sickly. My mom stayed with her today, but…” You watch as Jihoon’s head tilts, a metaphorical lightbulb going off above his head as something occurs to him. “Y/N, are you busy this evening?” 
When you open your mouth to speak, you close it and shake your head. A list of reasons why Jihoon would ask you about your plans goes through your head before finally— ”Could you stay with Haein for a few hours while I go to dinner?” That wasn’t on your list. He wanted you to take care of his kid while he went to dinner? What? Like on a date? 
Swallowing hard, you push down your disappointment, forcing a smile as you nod politely. “Sure, I have nothing else going on. You want me to go there after work?” 
Jihoon watched as your smile faded and then reappeared strained. He wouldn’t make you watch Haein; he could always ask his mom to stay longer. Even if she did have plans, but he was hoping to talk with you like he had the day before. Why did you look so upset? 
“Uh, if you really don’t mind. I could use the he—” 
“Nope, don’t care—I mean, I don’t mind. I’ll go and I’ll go now, out... you know, to work.” Gesturing your thumb towards the door, you take a few steps backwards before turning towards it as Jihoon says your name under his breath. 
You weren’t sure you had ever felt so stupid as you did working for those few hours until Jihoon told you and the rest of the main office to have a good evening. Nodding, you avoid his eyes even as Jihoon stops at your desk to sigh, muttering that he would see you once he got home. 
Waiting until Jihoon is out of the door, Soonyoung moves from his seat and walks towards your desk with his head tilted. “At home? What the hell is that about?” 
Rolling your eyes, you try to wave the man off, not wanting to talk about it, but as usual, Soonyoung wouldn’t let go of something like this so easily. “Stop flailing your hand at me. Are you going back over to his house? What the fuck, Y/N?” 
Sighing loudly, you meet Soonyoung’s eyes as you shrug, letting your pen fall from your fingers in annoyance. “To take care of his kid while he goes to dinner. I’m a glorified babysitter, Soonyoung.” You shake your head when he tries to argue, your hand lifting to tell him to stop. “I’m gonna go and do the right thing because I know he deserves a night out. Also, because I like Haein; she’s sweet, but I won’t fucking lie... It sucks to know I’m doing this so he can go on a damn date.” 
Pushing back hard from your desk, you don’t listen as Soonyoung says your name and tries to get you to listen to reason. Instead, you push at his hand, shooting him a hurt look as you tug your purse up from the floor and onto your arm. “Y/N, I think you’re misunderstand—” 
“Stop patronizing me. I’m not stupid.” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stands up to walk behind you, feeling bad for teasing you. “I’m not! It’s not even a—” The door closing in Soonyoung’s face stops him from going further, the end of his sentence said to the wooden door. “Date.” 
Leaning back in his chair, Mingyu props his feet up on his desk and shakes his head at the display while Soonyoung runs his fingers through his hair. “You fucked up.” 
“Me?! I think Jihoon fucked up. She thinks he’s going on a date. He needs to talk to that woman or she’s gonna quit. He’s stringing her along.” Mingyu couldn’t argue with Soonyoung, and he shared his fondness for you. Jihoon’s previous assistants were never a good fit. Either they were overly zealous or lazy. One had even leaked company information to another label, but then you got the job and everything flowed like water. 
“Yeah, well… He’ll figure it out. Or we will just kill him.” 
That Soonyoung could agree with. 
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“Miss Y/N, will you make me s’getti?” 
You had gotten to Jihoon’s house in a sour mood, but quickly found that when you were around Haein, you couldn’t be upset. She was so different from the previous day. It was obvious that she was starting to feel better, and her personality was really starting to shine. She was like a little bright light in your dark evening. 
“‘Course, as long as you guys have the stuff for it.” Pursing your lips, you open the pantry doors and sigh at the amount of groceries available to you. Of course, Lee Jihoon would have a stocked kitchen. You don’t know why you even considered anything different. 
Pulling a few things from the pantry and then more from the fridge, you glance into the living room as Haein pulls a brush through her doll's hair and hums under her breath. You had found yourself smiling fondly at everything the girl had done, even when it was the smallest thing. She could show you that she could tie her shoe and you were praising her like a proud family member. “What’s your doll's name, Haein?” 
Smiling at you from the couch, Haein lifts the doll to show it off as she moves to her knees. “I used to call her Kimmie, but I like your name better. That okay?” Biting your lip as you push the hamburger meat around in the pan in front of you, you feel your heart tighten in your chest at the little girl's words. “Mmhm, that’s okay with me.” 
Your phone had gone off a few times in the night. From the time that you had left the office to the time that you had put a bowl of spaghetti in from Haein, you had been ignoring it. You didn’t need to check it to know it was probably Jihoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were here. His mother had been here when you had gotten here; she had said goodbye to Haein and you knew there were security cameras in Jihoon’s house. You just didn’t find yourself wanting to talk to him while he was on a date with some girl. It wasn’t until the tenth buzz from your phone on the kitchen counter as you put leftovers into a container, you let out an annoyed breath and turned the phone over to read your texts. 
Lee Jihoon: Thank you again for helping me out. I owe you big time
Lee Jihoon: Soonyoung said you were upset when you left. Is everything okay?
Lee Jihoon: Y/N? 
Lee Jihoon: Are you mad at me?
Lee Jihoon: Could we talk when I get home?
Lee Jihoon: How is Haein? Are you guys doing okay?
Lee Jihoon: I checked the camera. I hate doing that. Seems like you guys are having a good time
Lee Jihoon: Feels like you are ignoring my texts on purpose
Lee Jihoon: What did I do???
Lee Jihoon: We are going to talk. 
Shaking your head, you send a single text message back to Jihoon before slipping your phone into your pocket and making your way over to the couch and Haein. “What are we watching?” Giggling, Haein tells you about her Barbie movie and you listen even as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your stomach in knots, you sigh softly and offer the girl beside you a smile as she adjusts to sit against you, her head against your shoulder, before pulling your arm around her tightly. 
Y/N: Haein is doing great. No need to rush back. Enjoy your date, Mr. Lee. 
Lee Jihoon: Be home soon, Miss Y/L/N. 
You didn’t give your phone much more thought; instead, you focused on Haein as she shifted against you to lay in your lap. Your eyes are moving between her and the movie as your fingers brush her hair back from her face. You watch as her eyes slowly close and her breaths become steady and softer, sleep taking her attention from the movie. 
Sighing softly, you feel your chest tighten at the sight of the little girl asleep in your lap, but more so at the feeling it gives you. You enjoy being close to her. You like that she is happy and feels comfortable enough to sleep. Despite only knowing her for a short time, you find yourself getting attached to Haein. 
Shrugging his coat off, Jihoon furrows his brows tightly as he moves through the house towards the living room and the sound of the television. He was frustrated that you hadn’t been answering his messages, but that last message from you had told him more than enough about why you were acting the way you were. 
He knew how he felt about you, even if it was a little terrifying for him, but if you were going to sulk and avoid him thinking that he was on a date, clearly you felt something for him too. With a plan in mind—to address the problem head-on right away—Jihoon moves into the room, only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His plan goes right out the window when he sees your fingers lazily brushing through Haein’s hair as she sleeps in your lap. Now there was no way he could avoid how he felt about you, not when you were the picture of everything he wanted in his life right in front of his eyes. 
“Y/N…” Jihoon’s soft voice causes your brows to furrow as you sit up slightly, only to feel his fingers slide along your shoulders to keep you from moving to quickly and startling Haein. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t wake her. She looks so peaceful.” Leaning over your shoulder, Jihoon smiles brightly as he carefully guides his fingers along the side of yours over Haein’s head with a sigh. “She looks happy.” 
Jihoon had never been this close to you before and with where he had just come from, you find yourself leaning your head away from his cheek to give him space before moving your hand from his daughter’s head. “Mm, I hope she is. I can let you take her so I can get out of the way.” 
Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sighs as he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. “You aren’t in the way, Y/N. Would you stop this? You’ve avoided my messages all evening. I want to talk about what’s going on, but I do want to get Haein in her room first.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon waits for you to nod before he stands back to his full height and moves around the couch to slide his arms under her, pulling her against his chest. 
Glancing over his shoulder as he takes a step towards the hall, Jihoon swallows hard, hearing you shift behind him. “Please don’t leave, okay? For me? Give me like five minutes to put my daughter in her bed and then I’ll be back.” You wanted to tell him no and leave, but the look on his face and the way he phrased his words made you settle back into the couch with another nod. 
Jihoon kept his promise and less than five minutes later, you watched a less put-together Lee Jihoon make his way back into the living room. Running his fingers through his hair, he then unbuttons his sleeves and pushes them up to his elbows before finally meeting your eyes allowing you to see how nervous he really is. 
“I’m pretty tired, Mr. Lee. I should be getting home soo—” 
“I wasn’t on a date, Y/N.”
It isn’t just Jihoon cutting you off that makes you stop, but also what he has to say. Tilting your head, you shift nervously on the couch as he sits down next to you, closer than you anticipate. “That’s what you wrote me. Your last text... To enjoy my date? I was out for a business dinner with Seokmin and his manager. I haven’t been on a date in over two years.” 
It was none of your business. He didn’t need to tell you this and you shouldn’t have even said anything. You feel guilt sitting on your shoulders as you look down at your hands and push your fingers into your palm. “Oh… Well, you don’t owe me any explanations.”
You were so devastatingly beautiful and frustrating at the same time. Scoffing, Jihoon shakes his head as his eyes stay fixed on your fingers as you nervously dig them into your palm. “Clearly I do, and I should have just explained it before when I asked you to stay with Haein tonight. There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, I think, based on how you are reacting and how Soonyoung said you left at work.” 
Now you feel like a fool. Embarrassment washes over you and you lift your head, meeting Jihoon’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m—that’s so… God. I am so embarrassed, Jihoon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I acted like a child when I left work; I said stupid shit.” 
You watch a smirk pull at Jihoon’s lips before he glances down and nods. Obviously, Soonyoung had told him what had happened, perhaps in detail. “Made me realize that I’m maybe not alone in feeling something between us. If you can get that jealous over the idea of a date.” 
Heat rises along your neck and into your face as you look away from Jihoon at what his words imply. Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows as your brain goes from misfiring to giving you approximately a hundred reasons to bolt for the door, including the fact that Jihoon is your boss. 
“Am I wrong? ‘Cause I like you, Y/N. I mean, fuck—I really like you.” Trying to hide your smile, you lift your hand, pushing at your lips, before Jihoon’s fingers wrap gently around your wrist, pulling your hand down to your lap as he whispers your name to get you to look at him. “Come on, talk to me.” 
Shaking your head, you swallow hard as Jihoon’s thumb moves in a circle in your palm, keeping you grounded. “I—you’re my boss and... well, you have a daughter. I mean, not that I wouldn’t date someone with a kid, what I’m sayin—I mean.” Taking a breath you try to relax before nodding and starting over. “I don’t want to mess things up at work or for Haein. I’m sure she has feelings about her mother, wherever she is, and seeing her father with someone else might be really confusing.” 
Tilting his head, Jihoon nods along with you as you finally get your concerns out. Laying your hand on his leg, he slides his fingers along your hand and brings them together, lightly scratching your skin. “Well, first of all, I’m the CEO so I can do whatever I want, but there are also three employees in the main office, Y/N. They don’t give a fuck. The other employees have never even met me face-to-face.” 
Daring to spread to your fingers to catch Jihoon’s letting him hold your hand, a smile spreads over his face as he glances down at your hands and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Two, this goes along with things I need to explain about myself. A lot of people don’t know my personal life. They don’t need to, but you do. Haein is…fuck, how do I—” Sighing, Jihoon leans his head back as he tries to think of the right words before nodding and meeting your eyes. “She’s my niece.” 
Jihoon watches confusion flash across your face as you tilt your head so he is quick to continue. “But she is my daughter. I know it’s confusing. I adopted her after my brother passed away three years ago. He and his wife were in an accident and—” Sighing, Jihoon tilts his head and you notice the way his brow furrows and the strain in his voice. Shifting closer, you close your hand around his and lift your other hand, timidly reaching to brush Jihoon’s hair from his cheek as a smile pulls at his lips for the kind gesture, making it easier to go on. “Haein was already my goddaughter, so when she lost them, I didn’t want her to know loneliness.” 
Leaning into your touch, Jihoon lets out another breath with a quiet, kind laugh as he lifts his hand to push his thumb against your pout. “Don’t be sad. We are okay; you can see that. One day, when she is ready, I’ll explain it all to her. She already sees the pictures of them, but she just doesn’t know who they really are. I don’t want to confuse her, so she knows me as her dad.” 
Every negative feeling you had been feeling about Jihoon now makes your stomach twist with guilt. You would have never imagined that someone like him would do something like that for his brother’s child and make sure that she had the perfect life, but here he was and Haein was living that life. 
“Jihoon… She’s so lucky to have you as her dad. She loves you so much.” 
Smiling, Jihoon nods a bit before his nose wrinkles playfully as he glances towards the hallway and to where Haein’s room is. “I love her. She’s my world, and I spoil her too much. She’s gonna be a nightmare as a teenager.” 
Your laugh is music to Jihoon’s ears and makes his heart beat faster. Sliding his fingers along your hand to your wrist, Jihoon sighs softly and licks his lips as his eyes drop to yours and your pretty smile. “Go out with me tomorrow.” 
Rubbing your lips together, your laugh falls silent on your lips at Jihoon’s question and how he is looking at you. The air feels thicker and more electric with his touch and you find yourself wanting to lean in and feel his breath against your lips as his eyes drift to yours one more time. 
“Where?” Now you were being coy, but Jihoon found it endearing. Smirking, he tilts his head and shifts closer to you, trailing his fingers along your arm feeling the chillbumbs erupt under his touch. “Someplace nice, dinner. Let me take you on a date, Miss Y/L/N.” 
Shivering, the chillbumps spreading over your entire body, you nod, letting out a slow breath, almost afraid to speak, knowing words would be difficult. You almost want to ask Jihoon to kiss you, but you know it’s too quick and he seems to know it too as he leans back and lifts his hand. to trail the back of his fingers over your warm cheek. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow. Let me walk you to the door; you said you were tired.” 
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Your entire day had been filled with one thought. What does someone wear on a date with their boss? You had asked friends and family, and you even considered asking Soonyoung for his advice. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror in at least ten different outfits before finally landing on one that you didn’t hate. 
Jihoon, on the other hand, had turned to Soonyoung, though he had quickly regretted it. Watching the other man from his mirror, Jihoon rolled his eyes as Soonyoung made a disapproving face at yet another shirt that he pulled from his closet. “You don’t like anything I own.” 
"Well, everything you own is boring as fuck.” Smiling quickly to cover up the end of his cursing, Soonyoung glances towards the bedroom down and out into the other room to watch Haein playing with her grandmother. “Y/N is classy. She’s sexy. She deserves something different than what you wear every single day.” 
Shaking his head, Jihoon pushes his shirt back into the closet with a sigh before pulling out another and holding it up, getting a head tilt from Soonyoung. “Not bad; try it on. I like the bit of pattern; it’d be better if it wasn’t so subtle. 
Cursing under his breath, Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head and pulls the button up over his arms, quickly buttoning it up almost all the way when Soonyoung groans. “Leave it unbuttoned more than that, you prude. Show her some chest; give her the goods.” 
“Jesus Christ… Why did I ask you to come over?” 
“Because I’m your best friend and I have good fashion sense.” 
Jihoon rolls his eyes as he undoes two buttons and turns towards the mirror, adjusting his shirt, tucking it into his dress pants and tilting his own head. He hated to admit it, but Soonyoung was right; the shirt looked pretty damn good on him. 
Tugging at the end of your dress as you sit on your couch, you whine under your breath and watch the minutes tick down. You had wanted to just meet Jihoon at the restaurant but he had insisted on picking you up. It seemed he had wanted you to have the full first date experience with him and it was making you feel almost queasy as you waited.
You had made Jihoon tell you what restaurant he was taking you to so that you could look over the menu in advance, and despite the prices not being listed, you had a good idea of what to order. You had even gone as far as to look up reviews of the place, only to put your phone face down on your coffee table, not wanting to see any more words like worth the price, romantic, once in a lifetime experience. Those were words you didn’t associate with yourself. 
Shaking his hands out, Jihoon looks up at your apartment building and puffs up his cheeks before taking the first step towards the door. It had been a long time since he had been on a date and even longer since he had been on one with someone he actually cared so much about. The last date had been a blind date set up by guys in the office and while the woman had been nice enough, she was nothing like you. 
Jihoon could remember how awkward the conversation had been. He hadn’t meant to be so difficult and he honestly felt horrible by the end of the date and apologized. No day with you had ever been like that. Every single conversation Jihoon had ever had with you had been as easy as breathing for him. The awkward silences were shared by both before the two of you would smile and laugh filling the space. Even the idea brings a smile to his face and makes Jihoon’s skin erupt in chillbumps as he searches for your apartment number and last name before pressing the call button. 
You hadn’t realized how intently you had been staring at your coffee table until the buzzer for your apartment went off. Putting your hand against your chest, you feel your heart beating hard and fast as you take a deep, calming breath. With one last glance to the clock, you nod and speed walk towards the intercom next to your door, clearing your throat before pressing the button and smiling into your words. “I’ll be right down, Jihoon.” 
Your voice makes Jihoon almost melt on the spot. You were smiling; he could hear it and he couldn’t wait to see it. Nodding, he takes a step back and leans against the railing as he glances up at the sky, enjoying the colors. The sun had started to set, so there was this perfect mixture of pink, blue, and gold that almost looked like a painting. Jihoon finds himself hoping you’ll hurry down so he can share the moment with you and even as the thought passes through his mind, he laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was falling for you hard. 
Sliding your jacket over your shoulders, you quickly walk to the elevator and tap the toe of your shoe against the floor as you watch the numbers go down slower than they ever had. You knew it was a trick of your mind that the elevator wasn’t going slower than it did on any normal day, but knowing that Lee Jihoon was waiting for you made the world slow down and you wanted to see him. After spending your entire day both dreading and being excited about this date, now you were more excited than anything. 
When the doors to the elevator open, letting you see the main doors of your apartment complex, you take a deep breath, seeing Jihoon looking up at the sky. If you weren’t worried that he would start to worry where you were, you might take a picture of him through the glass doors. There was something incredibly picturesque and handsome about him with the sunset on the horizon behind him, the trees on the other side of the street, and the way his hair was framing his perfect face. 
Commiting the moment to memory instead, you push the door open and lower your eyes, feeling instantly shy when a quiet gasp escapes Jihoon’s lips when he sees you for the first time that evening. What you had chosen to wear was nothing special but to Jihoon, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. You were wearing a black bodycon dress that came to your mid-thigh and a light brown long jacket that fell under the length of your dress. Even down to your shoes, black heels that no one else would probably think to look at, Jihoon was taking in every detail before he tried to meet your eyes. 
“Y/N…” Whining at the sound of your name on his lips, you avoid his gaze until Jihoon’s fingers gently rest under your chin and lift your head so he can finally meet you eye to eye. “You are stunning, holy shit. I—I have to...calm down.” 
You laugh so quietly and so sweetly that Jihoon’s attempt to calm down fails. A soft groan slips from between his lips before he rubs his fingers over his lips and shakes his head, moving his hand from your face to your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “Come on, beautiful. I promised you dinner.” 
You had been right about the restaurant that Jihoon had wanted to take you to. It was fancy and not something you had ever expected to experience. The food was indulgent and the wine tasted expensive, but more importantly, Jihoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 
More than once you had found yourself mid-conversation meeting his eyes and your cheek burning as he all but stared at you in awe. You would watch Jihoon smile and let out a soft embarrassed laugh at getting caught before he would just shake his head and sigh your name under his breath. 
“I’m sorry, you are just so beautiful.” 
“Jihoon… please.” 
“What? It’s true. I’ve spent the last month trying to keep that to myself and now seeing you like this and knowing that I’m actually on a date with you…” Jihoon hisses into his words before sipping at his wine to keep himself in check. You watch his tongue swipe over his lips before he meets your eyes once again. “I’m so lucky.” 
Shifting in your seat, you grab your own wine and take a drink to mostly hide your face and how overwhelmed you are. You had never had a man treat you the way Jihoon was. He had tried at the beginning of the date to be confident and collected but the longer he sat in front of you, the mask fell away and to Jihoon, there was no one else in the room besides you and him. No one else mattered. 
“You need to eat. Your food is going to get cold, Jihoon.” Smiling at your words, Jihoon glances down at his half-eaten plate and sucks at his teeth. You were right, but that didn’t make it any easier to focus on something that wasn’t you. You were the type of beauty that inspired Jihoon to write songs and he had been composing in his brain from the moment you stepped through the doors of your apartment. 
“Mm, yes, ma’am.” 
Watching Jihoon finally take another bite of his food, you press your lips together and swallow another sip of your wine. He was so different than the Jihoon you knew from work. The CEO Lee Jihoon could be almost terrifying when he wanted to be. He was stern and to the point. You had seen him reduce people to tears, but the man in front of you—you believed he would do anything for you if you asked. He would be on his knees for you, waiting with baited breath if you—taking a deep breath, you push the thought from your mind as you tip your wine glass back and empty the last of your wine into your mouth. 
Jihoon wasn’t the type of guy to try to invite himself into a girl’s place on the first date, but when you asked him if he wanted to come in for something to drink, he also wasn’t going to be an idiot and say no. He didn’t want the night to end yet. He didn’t need anything more with you; he might want it, but he wasn’t going to force it. Jihoon was just thrilled that you trusted him enough to invite him in in the first place. 
“Listen, my apartment is small. It’s nothing fancy, like seriously, my apartment could fit in your pool.” Smiling as he walked off the elevator behind you, his eyes moving over your legs and up your back, Jihoon shook his head and let out a slow breath. “None of that matters to me, Y/N. Stop worrying about stuff like that. I’m just happy to be with you for a little while longer.” 
Your heart was in your throat, not just at Jihoon’s words but at the idea of having him in your apartment. You knew it was a big deal and you knew what you were doing. No, it didn’t have to go anywhere besides just drinks and conversation, but you were beginning to hope that it would. You weren’t normally like this. You rarely brought men back to your apartment on the first date, but there was something about Jihoon and knowing that he was so busy at work and away from it that made you selfish and wanting just a little more time with him. 
Whining under your breath, you push your front door open and step inside, flicking the lights on as you kick your heels off beside the door before glancing back at Jihoon as he steps inside. He doesn’t fit and yet he does. Nothing about him screams small and cozy apartment, and yet he doesn’t look completely out of place in your space. He doesn’t look uncomfortable; instead, he looks at ease as he places his shoes next to yours and slips his jacket off. 
Everything about your apartment screamed you in Jihoon’s opinion. From the way you decorated to the way it smelled like your perfume, he was drowning in it happily. Moving into the living room, Jihoon quickly scans over the books on your shelf before finally meeting your eyes with a smile as you hang up your jacket along with his. You bite at your bottom lip and he can tell you are nervous. He was too, but there was something else that was bubbling inside of him that was bigger than his nerves every time he looked at you. 
“Um, I have wine, beer, probably the stuff for shitty margaritas.” Scratching at your neck, you walk into your kitchen, where Jihoon can no longer see you, but he can hear you as you rummage through your fridge. “Water, Coke—it’s not Coke Zero though, and I have milk.” 
Laughing under his breath, Jihoon lowers himself down on your couch and rubs his hands together, looking over the room once again at the pictures on the walls and your shelf. “Whatever you are having, as long as it’s not the Coke.” 
Jihoon smiles hearing your laugh even from a room away. He can still hear the sounds of you doing things in the kitchen and he has the urge to go help you, but he doesn’t want to crowd you or make you uncomfortable so he stays where he is. Just when he starts missing you, wanting to see your pretty face, you round the corner and lift two wine glasses, showing him the white wine you have poured for the two of you to share. 
“Hope this is okay. I know we had red at the restaurant, and I can promise this is cheap and probably disgusting... But it’s wine nonetheless.” Offering him one of the glasses, you sit on the couch near him, leaving plenty of space out of nerves. Jihoon takes the glass and instantly looks down at the space between the two of you, letting out a soft laughing sigh as he shakes his head and takes a sip of the wine. “The wine is okay; what isn’t is how far you are from me.” 
You bite your bottom lip as Jihoon shifts closer to you, his leg against yours causing you to lower your eyes to your wine before he says your name, drawing your gaze upwards to meet his. “If you want me to move, I will, but I—is it wrong of me to want to be close to you? You are so beautiful, it’s killing me. I know I’ve stared at you all night and I should apologize for that—” 
“No, no, it’s okay. You can stay here; please don’t move. I like it. I like when you look at me; it just—it’s a lot. You look at me like...” You trail off and laugh, looking away to take a sip of your wine before furrowing your brows, trying to think of the right words. Jihoon sighs, letting you have a moment to compose yourself, but in the silence he can’t help the way his eyes move over your face and down your body, landing on your hand that rests on your leg. 
Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, Jihoon turns your hand in his and strokes your arm gently, smiling when he feels chillbumps erupt under his touch and hears you take a sharp breath into your words. “It’s like I’m the only person in the world.” 
Nodding, Jihoon lifts his eyes to yours once again and leans to put his wine glass down on a coaster. Lifting his brows, Jihoon asks for silent permission to touch you as his fingers hover near your face. When you nod, he trails them along your cheek before gliding his thumb to your jawline. “You are, especially right now. Of course, Haein will always come first for me, but I have a feeling you understand that.” 
You nod and Jihoon smiles, letting his thumb barely ghost over your lips, feeling them part, a soft breath of air meeting his skin before he moves his hand to your neck and down to your shoulder and finally trailing his fingers along your bare arm and back down to your hand. “But you are so important to me. Over the time that I’ve gotten to know you, it’s been hard not to tell you all the things I’ve told you tonight.”
Shifting on the couch, you pout, and Jihoon’s name slips from your lips as he takes your wine from your hand, putting it on the table with his own, feeling a shift in the air with his confession. “I know it’s a lot and it’s fast considering where this might go, but I have to say it because I’m falling for you.” Shaking his head, Jihoon leans his head back with a half laugh and half sigh before correcting himself. “I’ve been falling for you the entire time I've known you. I’ve just been scared to death. Between everything, our previous relationship, and what you know about my daughter now…” 
It makes sense, all of his concerns. You share them and more of your own. But to say that you hadn’t been falling for Jihoon over the time you had been working for him and then even more so since you had met Haein and been introduced into his homelife, would be the biggest lie you had ever told anyone or yourself in your life. 
“What if—if this doesn’t work out?” You speak so quietly that you aren’t sure you’ve spoken out loud or that Jihoon will hear you, but he does. Nodding along with your words, he furrows his brows and leans forward as his thumb moves in small circles over your wrist, trying to calm your worries. “I don’t think in what-ifs usually, but for you this time I will entertain it. If things don’t work out, we will figure it out together. I know how I feel about you and I don’t have doubts. I know how much Haein adores you, so I don’t have doubts about that either. I just need to know how you feel, Y/N.” 
His certainty makes your head spin and your heart quicken. Taking a deep breath, you slide your hand towards Jihoon's, letting your nails scratch lightly over his palm as you nod and puff up your cheeks slightly. Smiling at how beautiful and cute you can be at the same time, Jihoon lifts his free hand to pinch lightly at your puffed up cheek, feeling you let out your breath when you finally do speak up. 
“I like you so much. If I asked you to kiss me, would you?” 
Jihoon hadn’t expected you to ask him for anything physical, but there was no way in hell he was going to deny you. Sliding his hand from your cheek to your hairline, Jihoon whispers yes as he leans in, waiting to see if you are going to ask him. When you whine, wanting him to just do it, Jihoon laughs and nudges his nose against yours. “I was waiting for you to ask.” 
“Jihoon, please! Just kiss me, oh my god.” And with that, his lips press against yours, taking your words and breath away in an instant. Melting into his touch, you whine into the kiss, your hands sliding to find something to hold on to. One hand clings to Jihoon’s forearm as the other finds his chest and grips his shirt loosely, pulling him closer to you and drawing a small groan from his lips and into yours. 
Jihoon’s head was spinning with only thoughts of yours and how good you felt against his lips. He had known the kiss would be better than he could ever imagine, but even he couldn’t have anticipated it being this good. He was already struggling to keep himself in check as your fingers lightly scratched at his chest through his shirt while your tongue brushed against his. Your sweet, breathy moans going straight to his cock that was quickly getting harder in his pants. 
“Shit, bab—Y/N.” Stopping himself before he calls you anything besides your name, Jihoon pulls back from the kiss, feeling you chase his lips. He didn’t want to stop kissing you, but this had quickly gone from a kiss to a make-out session on your couch. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. So if we need to slow down…” 
You loved that Jihoon was being respectful. You adored that he was such a sweet gentleman, but right now you didn’t want him to stop. Your lips were starting to feel numb from his kiss and it had you aching between your thighs for him. You had asked him for a kiss. Could you ask for more?
Lowering your lashes, you suck on your bottom lip and look up at Jihoon through your lashes, seeing the lustful look in his eyes that matches your own. “I don’t want to slow down, Jihoon. I—please? Can we…” 
There was something about you not even being able to say the words out loud that made Jihoon feel like he was going insane. You seemed so innocent, so pure. Groaning under his breath, Jihoon runs his fingers along your cheek and into your hairline once again before resting his forehead against yours. Licking his lips, he nods and slides his free hand along your side to test the waters and how serious you are until he reaches your hip and squeezes lightly. 
“Hm? Can we, what? What do you want, pretty girl?” Titling his head, Jihoon brushes his lips against yours, hearing you whine when he pulls them away to press a kiss on your warm cheek, speaking against your skin. “Gotta tell me.” 
Embarrassment rushes through you, and you whimper Jihoon’s name, grabbing at his shirt, muttering under your breath too low to make out. Shaking his head, Jihoon cants his head towards your mouth and shivers at the feeling of your warm breath when you repeat yourself. “Take me to bed?” 
Again, you were so innocent. You didn’t ask him to fuck you. You didn’t even ask him to sleep with you or to make love. You simply asked to be taken to bed. There were so many ways to interrupt that, but Jihoon knew what you meant. “Okay, baby. Is that okay? If I call you that?” 
Nodding, you watch Jihoon stand up as he offers his hand to you, which you take so he can help you to your feet. Feeling your knees shake a bit, you are happy for the arm that moves around your waist when Jihoon leans to brush his lips behind your ear, a playful laugh leaving his lips when you lean against him, letting him hold you upright. “I got you. Which room are we going to, baby?” 
Once Jihoon has you through the threshold of your bedroom, you finally move on your own towards your bed, reaching for a lighter to light the candle next to your bed. Jihoon glances around as the wick on the candle comes to life, providing just enough light in the room that he can look around and take in his surroundings. 
If he had thought your apartment was you, your bedroom was like getting a look inside of you. The smell of your perfume was the strongest in this room and even in the low candlelight, Jihoon could see that the colors of the room, down to the bedding, were the perfect shade for you. 
“Is that okay? I just want to be able to see you a little bit and the moon isn’t very bright tonight.” Smiling at your words, Jihoon nods as he undoes the buttons at his wrists while you sit on the side of your bed looking up at him, again so innocently—just like an angel. “It’s perfect and it smells just like you in here. Feels like I’m swimming in you; I might drown.” 
You knew that Jihoon wrote songs—no, you knew that he wrote poetry. To say that you were a fan of the music that he had composed and produced would be an understatement, but you kept yourself composed while you were at work and when you were blessed to hear something in advance and it was him singing. Hearing Jihoon say something like he might drown in you was like hearing him sing his lyrics in person to you, and now it was you who was drowning. 
“You can’t say things like that.” 
Watching you hide your face, Jihoon laughs, moving towards the bed to step between your knees. Lifting your head, his fingers lightly holding your face under your chin, he watches how big your eyes get as they meet his and he almost melts under your gaze. “Why not, baby? It’s true.” 
Shifting your legs as far apart as you can with your dress still snug around your thighs, you whine to the feeling of Jihoon’s fingers on your skin as you gain the courage to reach out and touch him. With one hand you wrap your fingers around his wrist and the other you rest it on his stomach, catching one of his shirt buttons under your nail. 
“Cause it makes me shy. I’m already so shy around you. Can’t you just—please?” You were doing it again, not using full sentences and expecting Jihoon to fill in the blanks. Luckily for you and Jihoon, his imagination was running wild with all the things he wanted to do to you and with you. 
“Yeah, I can. God, you are so pretty.” Jihoon’s fingers walk the line from your neck to your shoulder, where the strap of your dress rests. Carefully working his fingers under it, Jihoon lifts his brows like a question as he tries to take another step forward only to meet resistance and to look down at the tight skirt of your dress. “This dress is so beautiful on you, Y/N, but it’s gotta go. Can I—mm, can I take it off you?” 
You knew the question would be asked and you wanted him to take your dress off, but hearing the words made your stomach flip and your heart race. Nodding quickly, you bite at your lips and shift on the bed so quickly that Jihoon can’t help but to chuckle as he takes a step back and leans down as he shakes his head and catches your lips in a soft kiss. “Slow down, pretty girl. I’ll do it. Let me do it; I want to.” 
Speaking on Jihoon’s lips, you relax under his hands as Jihoon slides them along your outer thighs to where your dress sits tight against your skin. “Okay, Hoon.” You don’t even mean to shorten his name, but you already feel drunk off him as soon as his fingers press under the end of your dress and start to shimmy it up your body inch by inch. 
Smiling against your lips at the shortening of his name, Jihoon leans over your body, laying your back on the bed, feeling you lift your hips as his hands reach them. He only pulls away from your lips to make it easier to get your dress off, but the sight isn’t one he ever wants to forget as you arch your back and bite at your lips, giving him the honor of taking off your dress and completely leaving you in your lingerie. 
Jihoon swallows hard as his eyes move over you slowly. He hadn’t told you what his favorite color was and yet you were lying on your bed covered in it. Red lace adorns your body in all the right places, leaving just the right amount to his imagination as he gives into temptation and trails the back of his fingers between your breasts, over your stomach, and stops just on top of your clothed pussy. 
“The most gorgeous fucking woman in the universe, I swear to God. Baby, look at you. I almost don’t want to take any of this off of you.” Your cheeks and neck burn from Jihoon’s overwhelming attention as he moves his fingers back up your body, stopping to squeeze your hips and then ghosting each of your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. “Did you know this is my favorite color? Even more so now. I’ll imagine it on you all the fucking time now.” 
Turning your face from Jihoon, you smile once again feeling shy even though you are enjoying his words and his attention. The sound of Jihoon’s laugh makes your skin feel like it’s on fire, especially when his lips hover over your collarbone once he is able to stand between your legs, finally close enough to gain access to any part of you he wants. “You are so shy. God, it’s so cute, so sweet. It’s killing me. What am I gonna do with you?” 
You knew what you wanted him to do with you, but as much as you wanted to rush him and to get him inside of you there was something in your brain stopping you from doing that as Jihoon’s fingers turned your face back towards him to watch him stand back up in front of you. Your mouth falls open slightly as your eyes stay fixed on him, his nimble fingers carefully undoing the expensive shirt that you had admired more than once through out your date, and while you love the shirt on him you find that you love it on your floor even more. 
“Oh my god…” The soft exclaim leaving your lips makes Jihoon smirk, his ego inflating even slightly as he drops his shirt in the floor leaving him shirtless in front of you. He knew he was in shape, he worked hard on it and he had seen you look at him in his tanktops early in the morning at the office more than once to know you would be interested in seeing him like this. Running his hand along his abs, Jihoon grabs his belt and undoes it quickly as you squeeze you thighs together only for you to whimper when he pushes his knee between your knees and shakes his head. 
“As much as I want to see those panties get ruined, I wanna be the one doing it. Be a good girl for me and keep those thighs apart for me. I’m almost done, baby.” Nodding as you do as you are told, Jihoon moves his leg back and unbuttons his pants sucking on his bottom lip as he pushes them down in one swift motion. “That’s better. Now we are even, right?” 
You didn’t want him wearing anything. You could see the outline of his cock and it was making you equally shocked and feral. You wanted to get on your knees for him and show him what you could do with it, but at the same time you were too stunned to move, so instead you just nod and lick your lips feeling your mouth starting to water. 
Jihoon could understand the feeling as you lick your lips. He was doing the same looking at you, his eyes falling between your legs. He hadn’t been lying about wanting to ruin your panties. All he could think about was how wet you might be for him. He knew he was being cocky in hoping you might be soaking through your lace, but with how you were acting, he had a feeling he wasn’t that far off. 
“Can I touch you? Are you still okay, baby? Wanna keep going? I won’t make you—” Hearing you whine his name, Jihoon laughs understanding your answer to all his questions. “I just wanted to ask, angel. Trust me, I wanna keep going. Fuck, let me get you on this bed.” 
Gasping, you are surprised when Jihoon lifts at your hips and scoots you on the bed shifting you into the middle with almost no effort. Meeting your widened eyes, he grins moving to place one knee next to yours and the other between your knees as he looks down at you like you are a five course meal. “Didn’t think I’d move you?” 
“I–-you could have let me do it myself…” Shaking his head, Jihoon lift his hand to your shoulder pulling the strap of your bra down your arm before leaning to press his lips to your skin listening to your soft moans as he speaks against your soft skin. “I’d never ask you to do a damn thing when we are in bed. I’m gonna have you so fucking spoiled, baby.” 
Arching off the bed, you grab at the bedding under and carefully run your fingers through Jihoon’s hair for the first time as his lips find the swell of your breast over your lace. You moan not only to his words, the feeling of his lips against your skin, but also the feeling of his hair in between your fingers. You find yourself wanting to run your fingers through his hair all the time, not just in moments like this, but also when the two of you are watching a movie, laying in bed ready to sleep, or while he’s working…
Pushing the thought from your mind, you let out a soft cry when Jihoon’s teeth rake over your nipple, his fingers tugging your bra down from one breast so he can have access to your bare skin. “Fuck… You are so soft.” Swallowing hard at his own words, Jihoon shakes his head and runs his tongue around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth with a groan hearing your breathy sighs of pleasure. 
He wanted to have his lips on every single inch of your body if possible. If he could do it all at once he would, but he knew that was impossible so he was taking his time. Reaching behind your arched back, Jihoon undoes your bra feeling it give way under his fingers so he can pull it from your body giving him more access to your skin. As much as he loved the lace on your body feeling your bare skin against his was better. The feeling of your soft breasts against his face was heaven as he pressed kisses from one nipple to the other taking it into his mouth with a satisfied groan. 
There was no way to explain how good you tasted. Your skin tasted perfect on Jihoon’s tongue and he hadn’t even made it past your chest. His cock was leaking heavily in his briefs as he rolled his hips against your thigh, his own pressed against the wet lace covering your pussy. With each movement, each groan from Jihoon, he would rock his thigh against you drawing out another moan that would cause his cock to jerk. 
“So good. You sound so pretty, baby. Just taking my time...” You were too drunk off the feeling of Jihoon’s mouth and body against yours to be upset that he was taking his time, but you could tell that he was. You had never had someone move so slowly with you. If it had been any other man in your bed, their cock would have already been in you without much or any prep, and it would have been done in moments—but Jihoon was slowly making his way down your body, kissing every mole and scar as he went. 
When Jihoon did finally reach your hips, you bit your lips, feeling his fingers push into the sides of your panties, resting over your hipbones. Glancing down at him, your breath quick and uneven, you meet his eyes and see him smile before he presses a kiss just below your belly button. 
What happens next leaves you breathless when Jihoon’s tongue runs from your mouth just above your ass to your mound over your lace, letting him taste you through your panties. Smirking against the lace, Jihoon meets your eyes once again as he nips at your pussy through your panties, feeling your thighs quiver on either side of his head. Only when whispered pleads are falling from your lips does Jihoon’s fingers finally start to tug your panties down your legs so he can drop them to the floor along with the rest of your clothes. 
“I told you I wanted to ruin them. I always keep my promises, babe.” Jihoon watches you swallow hard as you try to catch your breath, already feeling the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. “Now let me see you.” Spreading your legs once again, Jihoon groans as he watches the candlelight hit your glistening folds. He had been right about how wet you were. He was starving for you and he wasn’t done worshipping you. 
Running his fingers along your legs from your ankles to your thighs, Jihoon keeps his eyes on yours as he lowers himself back between your legs to press a kiss to each of your thighs before doing the same to your wet pussy. 
Licking his lips, Jihoon closes his eyes to the first real taste of you, a shiver running through his body before he adjusts between your legs and pulls you closer to him, making you gasp. One hand wrapped around your leg at your hip, Jihoon spreads your folds, while with the other he carefully circles your dripping hole with his index finger before working it in feeling you clench around it. 
“Shit… Tight. Gotta relax for me, okay, baby?” Jihoon watches you nod even though you aren’t sure how he expects you to relax when he thrusts his finger into it, and it feels so good. You aren’t sure how he wants you to stop clenching around his finger tightly when he finally runs his tongue between your folds and groans finding your clit and sucking on it. You only manage to push down on his finger and tighten around it more. “Fuck, taste so good.” 
Leaning his head back to shake his hair from his face, Jihoon smiles when you thread your fingers back into his hair. Not only does he enjoy the feeling of your fingers in his hair, but it also lets him get back to work. With a second finger joining the first, Jihoon’s mouth is back on your folds. He gently sucks them into his mouth and hums in appreciation as he once again works his way back up to your waiting clit, flicking his tongue against it, causing you to practically scream his name. 
You had been so quiet up to that point that when you scream his name, Jihoon closes his eyes and ruts his hips into the mattress, afraid he is going to cum from just the sound alone. The pressure that had been building inside of you comes to a head and with one more brush of Jihoon’s fingers against your spot, you come undone. 
Tugging tightly at his hair, you whimper Jihoon’s name much quieter this time as your cum seeps around his fingers. Groaning to the feeling of his hair being pulled and the taste of your cum on his tongue, Jihoon carefully slips his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue until you are closing your thighs around him and begging him to stop. 
Running his fingers through his hair, Jihoon sucks the fingers of his other hand clean as he watches you catch your breath. Smirking around his fingers, he watches a smile spread over your lips when you realize he’s watching you closely. “Stop it… I’m shy.” 
“I know. I’m not sure I ever want you to lose that. It’s driving me crazy.” Putting his hand next to your head, Jihoon rests back between your legs so he can kiss you softly. The feeling of your hands tracing his sides makes him shiver and grin against your lips before he deepens the kiss. Groaning into the kiss, Jihoon finally pulls back to look down at you as you stare up at him breathless once again, an almost fucked-out look on your face before he’s even been inside of you. 
“Gotta have you, baby. Will you let me?” Whining his name, you nod to Jihoon’s words, watching him smile once again as you squirm under him. “Gotta be patient. I gotta…” Moving to the side, Jihoon groans as he tugs his briefs down his legs, hissing as the air hits his hard cock. “Better, now I can—what’s that look for?” 
Your eyes had widened almost dramatically by the time Jihoon had turned back to you. Holding back his laugh, he tilts his head and glances down at his cock, lifting his brow before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his shaft, helping you wrap your fingers around him. “Was it about my cock? I'm not that big, baby… So tell me what’s going on in that pretty head.” 
Shaking your head, you bite your lips as Jihoon guides your hand along with his to his head, collecting some pre-cum so he can stroke his cock slowly. “It’s perfect… God, I sound so stupid, but you’re…like everything.” Lifting your free hand to hide your face, you groan in embarrassment, feeling Jihoon’s hand fall from yours, letting you do the same. 
“Baby…” Now he was laughing, but you could tell it wasn’t at you. Instead, Jihoon was enamored by you. He had been falling for you before and now he had fallen, hard. Moving your hand, Jihoon kisses your fingers and palm before doing the same to your cheeks and lips. “Thank you, it’s not stupid. You’re perfect. You make me feel so good about how I look. I hope I do the same for you.” 
He had done more than that. You were no stranger to being self-conscious, but with how Jihoon had spent what felt like hours worshipping your body, you felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. Nodding, you lean your head against the pillows and pout. Jihoon smirks, reaching up to push his thumb against your bottom lip. 
“Now… Can I make love to you? Cause that's all I wanna do in this bed. It’s what I’ve been dreaming of doing since... Fuck, I can’t even tell you how long.” 
You hadn’t expected those words from Jihoon. You didn’t know that he wanted to make love to you. Love was such a scary but wanted word for you. You wanted to love him, and maybe you already did, but you weren’t going to say it out of fear of scaring him away. “Please, it’s what I want, too.” 
Fingers once again move over your skin, trailing along your side to your hip as Jihoon nods. His lips find yours before quickly moving to your jaw and then your neck, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow with a moan. Before you could feel his cock throb behind his briefs, but now it lay heavy against your thigh and pre-cum was leaking on to your skin with each sound dripping from your mouth. 
“Please... need you.” 
Jihoon loved how shy you were, but he also loved hearing you tell him what you wanted. You needed him. Needed. He’d give you the world, but tonight he’d make sure you had everything you wanted before he’d let himself have a single thing. “Anything, baby. It’s yours.” 
Jihoon’s words are muffled against your throat as his fingers slide along your leg to your knee, pulling it up to his hip. You gasp, feeling his finger brush through your folds, before you feel the same thing with the head of his cock and finally the stretch of him pushing into you slowly. 
You had felt like heaven on Jihoon’s fingers and tongue, but it was nothing compared to how you felt around his cock. Even before he was completely inside of you, Jihoon felt like he couldn’t breathe with how tightly you were holding him and with how your body was pulling him closer. 
“Sh-shit… fuck.” Resting his forehead against your shoulder, Jihoon stays still, his hips flush with yours, feeling your walls quiver around him. He waits for you to tell him to move, not just to make sure you have adjusted but also to give himself a moment to calm down. He felt like he could cum instantly. It had been too long since he had been with anyone and you felt better than anyone he had ever been with. It was like you had been made for him specifically. 
Rubbing your hands along his arms, you feel tears collect on the rims of your eyes as the stretch eases and becomes pleasure. You find yourself wanting Jihoon to move, needing him to move, and wanting to feel his cock deeper, harder, and faster. Leaning your head towards his, you kiss his temple and whisper, “Move, please, Hoon.” 
He starts slow, each thrust smooth and precise, but quickly as your and his breath become more moans than anything, the thrusts become urgent and full of need. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” You weren’t sure why Jihoon’s words made you clench harder around him. Why did hearing him whine your name as he fucked into you so hard as his fingers moved to lace with yours against the mattress make you feel like you were floating? 
Jihoon grunts before his lips find yours once again, his kiss desperate and passionate. He nips at your lips before licking his tongue into your mouth, feeling your tongue against his own. There is something different about this kiss—more heated and important than any other kiss than any other kiss that either of you have shared with any other person in your life. Both of you seem to feel it as your fingers tighten in his grasp, the feeling of electricity passing between your touch and his as the coil in your abdomen snaps once again. 
While Jihoon had loved the feeling of you cumming on his fingers, feeling you cum on his cock was another thing all together. He could barely keep his head as he watched the bliss take over your face, the way your lips parted, and how your eyes fluttered closed. It was enough to push him over the edge right behind you. 
Panic takes over Jihoon; you hear him curse under his breath and feel him slip from you before the feeling of his warm cum hits your lower stomach and thighs. Groaning, he strokes his cock, feeling it soften in his hand. It wasn’t how Jihoon would have preferred to finish, but you had felt too good and his climax had almost snuck up on him. 
Leaning to rest his head against your chest, Jihoon takes a deep breath, feeling your fingers run through his hair as he listens to your heart racing. “I gotta get you cleaned up. That was not the plan. I’m sorry, babe.” Jihoon places a kiss to the top of your breast before meeting your eyes, a shy look in his eyes as you shake your head and smile at him. 
“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I—” Laughing, you turn your head embarrassed, lifting your hand to bite at your thumbnail, making Jihoon curious at what you were going to say. “What? Hey, come on. Tell me?” Gently pulling your hand from your lips, Jihoon tilts his head, shifting from between your legs to your side. 
You swallow hard and glance down at your stomach and legs to where his cum paints your skin before sighing and avoiding his eyes as you speak. “You could have stayed inside of me. I’m on birth control, Jihoon.” 
Laying back on your bed, Jihoon runs his hand over his face with a groan, feeling his cock twitch slightly to your words. “You can’t say something like that to me. I can’t get hard again this quick.” Rolling off your bed, Jihoon glances around before pointing at your bedroom door as you laugh, watching him try to orient himself. “Bathroom is across the hall.” 
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You were doing your best not to act like things were different between you and Jihoon, but the moment you stepped into the office, you were hyper aware of every little detail. You would realize you were staring at his door too long or that you were smiling at him just a little too widely before you’d quickly look away and fiddle with something on your desk. 
Jihoon, on the other hand, wasn’t that concerned. He was enjoying your lingering glances and seeing a smile on your face. He wasn’t being subtle about how he was looking at you. Why would he be? You were so beautiful and his. He wanted to scream that at the top of his lungs, but he could tell that you were still nervous about it so he kept his affection for you subtle at first. 
Gentle touches to your shoulder that would move to your neck when he thought no one else was looking or whispering compliments against your ear as he leaned behind you to look at something on your computer. He was just observing your work; no one could blame him. 
It was all driving you crazy, and neither of you were being as subtle as you thought as Soonyoung smirked at the two of you from his desk. He knew about the date and now, watching as you sighed with a lovesick look on your face as Jihoon closed his door, leaving you to work, Soonyoung laughs under his breath, drawing your attention. “What? Why are you laughing at me?” 
Putting up his hands, Soonyoung grins and turns his chair back towards his desk before leaning back in it so that he can still look at you. “You’re cute, Y/N.” Mocking your soft sigh, Soonyoung puts his hand on his chest and your cheeks heat up instantly. You hadn’t even realized you had been doing it, but hearing it come out of Soonyoung’s mouth made it obvious. 
“What am I missing?” Lifting his brow, Wonwoo taps his pen against his desk as he leans forward, curious about the conversation he was being left out of. You looked like you had been caught doing something bad and Soonyoung looked like that cat who ate the canary. “Mingyu, do you know what Soonyoung is going on about?” 
Shaking his head, Mingyu looks from you to the other man and purses his lips before shaking his head and looking back at his computer. “I don’t know. Y/N has been breathing louder than usual today... I just figured she had a cold.” 
Nodding along with Mingyu’s words, Soonyoung gestures towards you and laughs under his breath. “She is sick, aren’t you? Love sick?” Shocked at Soonyoung’s words, you try to defend yourself when Mingyu looks up surprised; now the conversation has his attention. 
“I—what? No…that’s—shut up, Soonyoung.” 
Jihoon rolls his eyes hearing Soonyoung teasing you. He knew it was bound to happen. He didn’t care if any of them knew about the relationship between you and him. He was proud to call you his, but listening to you try to come up with an excuse was making his blood boil with something akin to jealousy. Jihoon didn’t want you to say there wasn’t anything between the two of you or that you were seeing anyone else. You were his, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Just as you start to say something else, come up with some excuse as to why you are acting the way you are. Jihoon’s office door opens and the room falls silent. Glancing around at each desk, Jihoon lifts his brow at the shift in the air before laughing under his breath. “Idiots…” 
“Huh?” Your sweet, confused voice brings Jihoon back to his reason for leaving his office in the first place. Looking down at you, he coos and shakes his head, running his fingers along your cheek leaving you frozen in place. “Not you, baby. Those idiots. I have to run out for a bit. Keep this place running for me.” 
Nodding, you swallow hard as Jihoon calls you baby in front of everyone. Not daring to look around even though you feel eyes on you, instead you meet Jihoon’s eyes and his possessive gaze. “Thank you.” You start to respond, you aren’t even sure what—maybe a no problem or a you’re welcome—but Jihoon’s lips brush over yours and any thought that was in your head is gone as if it never existed. 
Frozen in place, you only manage to watch Jihoon pull his car keys from his pants pocket as he walks by Soonyoung’s desk and pushes his chair inwards. “Work on something, moron. Earn what I pay you.” 
The sound of the office door closing and low whistles bring you back to reality. You feel the heat radiating from your cheeks and neck before you look down, smiling at your keyboard, unsure what to think or do. 
“Holy shit, Y/N.” 
“No, see… ‘Cause I knew they went on a date. I just didn’t know it went THAT well. I want all the fucking details, baby.” 
The voices of the others in the office overlap as they continue to gossip about you and Jihoon, wanting you to give them anything, but you can only focus on the feeling of where Jihoon’s lips were. 
“She’s gone. We’ve lost her. Nothing left in her head. What do you mean you knew about it, Soonyoung?” 
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Even a month into a relationship with you, Jihoon finds himself needing to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. He can’t get over how lucky he is as he watches you with Haein and how natural this all comes to you. 
When he had adopted Haein, it was difficult. She had been a baby and there was a lot that Jihoon didn’t know. Luckily he had the support of his mother, but there was still a huge learning curve and a ton of sleepless nights filled with a crying baby, but he had a feeling that you would have picked up on motherhood so naturally. 
“Isn’t Y/N dress so pretty, Haein?” 
Your cheeks heat up as you glance towards the kitchen, seeing Jihoon smirking at you from behind the island as he preps dinner. Not only was the compliment from him making you weak but also just the sigh of him doing something so incredibly domestic. You loved this more than you had admitted to anyone. Yes, you had let it slip here and there to family and friends how much you were falling for Jihoon and this family dynamic, but you had never said it to him. 
“It’s the mostest pretty. She’s the prettiest! I hope I can grow up and be as pretty as you, Miss Y/N.” Haein’s voice causes your chest to tighten and your heart to beat hard as you look at her sitting across from you at the coffee table. Shaking your head, you reach out to run your fingers over her cute face, hearing her giggle as she leans into your touch. 
While you had fallen in love with Jihoon, you had fallen in love with Haein in a completely different way. You wanted this little girl in your life in some shape or form, no matter what happened between you and Jihoon. She had become far too important to you over the space of a month. 
“You are so pretty, Haein. You are only going to get even more beautiful.” Tapping the tip of her nose, you watch the girl smile brightly at you as her shoulders rise and fall with a big breath. Jihoon’s smile matches Haein’s before he sighs and shakes his head, feeling his heart beating harder now. 
“My beautiful girls. How did I get so lucky, huh?” 
While Jihoon’s words make Haein giggle, your fingers holding hers as you paint them a soft pink, the words have a different effect on you. You smile but you have to bite at your cheek to keep back your emotions as Haein sighs dramatically and shrugs. “Just lucky, daddy.” 
Noticing how quiet you’ve gotten as he puts the chicken into the pan, Jihoon grins at his daughter before turning his attention to you. He knew you were trying to do a good job at painting Haein’s nails, but there was something on your mind. He knew that look—your brows furrowed and your lips pursed slightly—but before he has the chance to ask if you are okay, Haein’s voice once again feels the empty space, completely unaware of anything going on. 
“Daddy, can I have soda? I’ve only had one today. Ask Miss Y/N. I’ve been really good!” 
The look on your face is quickly replaced by fondness as you look up at Haein reaching for her other hand. Tilting your head, you glance over to Jihoon, meeting his eyes and smiling at him as you wait for his answer about Haein’s soda, putting him on the spot. 
“I—this feels like a trap. The rule is one soda a day. You’re using Y/N to get your way... That seems unfair, Haein.” Jihoon can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips when Haein tries to pout, but a laugh quickly takes the place of it and she sighs, looking at you for support. 
“Tell him, I was real good. Wasn’t I? I cleaned my room, almost. Least the clothes. That’s prog-dress!” 
You want to be on Jihoon’s side and tell her to stick to the rules, but the moment she tries to quote Jihoon and mispronounces the word progress, you lose any hope at telling her no. Whining softly, you look from Haein to Jihoon and tilt your head only to see him roll his eyes and lean his head back with an annoyed groan. “Fine, one more soda, you little cheater.” 
Looking down at her fingers as she wiggles in place, Haein waits for you to finish the last one before she stands and starts to move towards the kitchen, only to hear you gasp her name. “Haein, baby, let me get it for you. Your nails aren’t dry yet.” 
You hadn’t called her many sweet names before, so hearing you call her baby like her daddy had before puts a pout on Haein’s face as she moves to your side and wraps her arms around your neck. “Okay, Miss Y/N.” 
Furrowing your brows, you put your arms around Haein at the sudden affection, looking towards the kitchen where Jihoon watches as he finishes up dinner. You can see the happy, enamored look on his face as he simply nods at you and turns to pull plates from the cabinet. 
Brushing your fingers through Haein’s hair, you lean your head back to look at the girl, seeing a pout on her lips that causes your smile to drop almost instantly in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
Nodding, Haein looks down shyly before muttering, “I just like you a lot. I hope my daddy lets you be my mommy. Is that cheating?”
Closing your eyes, you swallow hard as you shake your head and lean your head forward, resting your forehead against Haein’s and running your hand along her back. “No, it’s not. You know your daddy was kidding before, right? He’s just picking on you about the soda.” 
You hear Jihoon moving in the kitchen, perhaps getting closer to you and Haein in the living room, but you keep your attention on the little girl in your arms as she sniffles. It isn’t until you feel the couch dip behind you and feel Jihoon’s arm move around you so that he can run it over Haein’s head that you know for sure he’s joined you both. 
“What’s this about, huh? Soda? I said you could have it. I even made the chicken you like.” 
Glancing up at her dad, Haein pouts at him and it almost breaks Jihoon’s heart as she slides from your arms and moves to him letting him hold her closely. “Hey, seriously, what’s going on?” Leaning back against the couch and Jihoon’s legs, you sigh softly and tilt your head back enough to meet his questioning eyes. Haein had spoken quietly and Jihoon must not have heard what she said. You knew you needed to tell him why she was acting like she was, but it was a lot to say to your boyfriend of a month. 
“Uh, she’s okay, I think. Just… said she likes me and said that she hopes—um.” Licking your lips, you look down away from Jihoon, hoping it will make it less awkward to say. “That... you marry me and then she asked if that was cheating.” Laughing softly, a bit awkwardly, you press your lips together as Jihoon whispers, “Oh,” under his breath and rocks Haein gently. 
“No, baby… That’s not cheating. Hey, I like Y/N. So, so, so much. Let’s leave the adult stuff like mommy and daddy stuff to us though, okay? That’s important business, not chicken dinner business.” 
He was good at this, being a dad. You knew it wasn’t what he had planned but to you, Jihoon was made for it. You watched as Haein’s frown slowly turned into the smile you loved and quickly she was giggling as Jihoon’s fingers ran along her sides, tickling her. Jihoon had her nodding and then running towards the dining room table ahead of you both with the promise of soda before you could even think of the right words to help. 
Taking a deep breath, you lean your head back while keeping your eyes clear of Jihoon’s. You could still feel the warmth plaguing your cheeks and when Jihoon’s fingers brush over them so does he. “Someone is embarrassed.” Rolling your eyes, you do finally look at Jihoon before leaning away from his hand, causing him to laugh and reach further to pinch your cheek. “It’s cute, baby. She likes you that much. That’s a huge deal.” 
You knew it was; you honestly didn’t need Jihoon to remind you. It was weighing on you like a ton of bricks because what if Jihoon didn’t like you that much? Nodding, you sigh and move to your feet as Jihoon’s eyes stay on you. “Mm, well, like you said, this is not a chicken dinner business, Mr. Lee. Come on.” Offering him your hand, you finally smile, and Jihoon matches it, sliding his hand into yours. 
Collecting dishes while ignoring Jihoon’s complaints, you move around to Haein’s empty seat before slapping at his hand as it slides along the back of your leg near your ass. Quickly glancing over your shoulder, you lean around the wall to look at Haein playing with her dolls. 
“Quit, Jihoon. She might see and how are you going to explain that one to a five-year-old? Do you want to explain the birds and the bees this early?” 
Grinning, he slips from his seat and slides his hand along your arm, taking the plates from your hand hearing you whine even as his lips press to your cheek. “She’s not even in the room and she’s not paying attention. Go, I’ll put these in the sink and then I’ll get her to bed.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon watches as you sigh and tilt your head, not wanting to give up. “Shoo. I wanna spend time with you tonight and I can’t until the little monster is asleep.” 
You want to keep pouting or maybe stoic at Jihoon’s words, but it’s impossible when he nudges you and practically whines his words to get you moving. “Fine, fine. Hurry up.” Watching him over your shoulder, you move into the living room towards Haein, sitting on the couch behind her. It’s easy to tell she’s tired even as she pretends not to be, something you know she tends to do especially when you are around wanting just a few more minutes with you. 
Trying to hide her yawn in her elbow, Haein looks up at you with a big smile but you can see the way her eyes are watering from such a big yawn. “Hi sleepy girl. Are you ready for bed?” 
Shaking her head, Haein pouts dramatically, picking up the brush for her doll's hair as she leans back against your legs, letting you hold on to her. “No, not yet. I want you and daddy to tuck me in tonight. Dat okay? You’re not too sleepy, right?” As if she’s suddenly concerned you might be too tired to help her, Haein looks up at you searching your eyes, but only sees your smile. 
“I’m not tired. I’d be happy to help your daddy.” 
Wiggling happily in your arms, Haein looks toward Jihoon when he finally moves into the living room. Lifting her doll towards him, she giggles and leans back against your chest as if she’s claiming you. “Miss Y/N is gonna help tuck me in.” 
Rolling his eyes, unable to hide his smile, Jihoon sighs and nods. “I heard, so why don’t you get your booty moving then, huh?” 
Patting Haein’s stomach, you hear her laugh before she starts moving, grabbing the rest of her dolls and running towards the hallway and her room. Shaking his head, Jihoon groans under his breath as he runs his fingers through his hair, following after her. “Haein! What did I tell you about running in the house?” 
You stay where you are for a moment longer, enjoying seeing yet another domestic moment from Jihoon. You wanted to capture little moments like that and put them in a book that you could look back on and remember for the rest of your life. You wanted to remember the feeling of Haein in your arms, her sweet laugh against your ear, before she happily ran off only to see Jihoon halfheartedly grumble about some rule that he wasn’t that strict about. This was your happy place now. 
Hearing your name from the other room, you move to your feet and finally follow Jihoon and Haein into her bedroom. You see Jihoon putting her dolls back into her toy chest as Haein, now dressed in her pajama’s smiles at you from her bed, lifting her hands, making grabby hands. 
“I’m coming; don’t worry.” 
Looking over his shoulder, Jihoon scoffs seeing Haein reaching for you as you sit on the side of her bed, pushing her covers up to her chest. “Why am I here again? To put up toys?” 
“Daddy…” 
“Yeah, yeah…” 
You smile when Jihoon sits on the other side of Haein’s small bed and leans to press a kiss to her forehead. Sighing, he sits back and tucks the covers you had moved around her body as he lifts his brow, watching how big her smile gets as she looks from him to you and back. “What? Why are you looking at us like that?” 
Reaching for one of his hands and one of yours, Haein pulls them up to her lips, placing a kiss on each one before sighing happily. “Nothin’ daddy. Today was a good day. I love you.” 
Furrowing his brows, Jihoon lets out a slower breath and nods in agreement with his daughter. It had been a good day. “I love you too, baby.” 
You were trying not to let your emotions get the better of you as you rubbed your thumb along the back of Haein’s hand and pressed your lips together when she looked at you again and smiled brightly, reminding you of a mixture of Jihoon and the picture of Jihoon’s brother in his office. 
“I love you, Miss Y/N. I hope you sleeps good. Thank you for tucking me in.” 
Leaning your head back to stop the tears that had gathered on the rims of your eyes from falling, you nod and laugh softly as you sniff lightly before looking down at Haein. “You’re welcome and I hope you sleep good.” Looking at Jihoon, uncertain if you should say that you love Haein back, you see the fondness in his eyes so you simply smile and meet Haein’s eyes once again. “And I love you too.” 
It was a big step you had made with Haein and Jihoon with those three little words, but you had meant them. Haein was thrilled to hear them, leaning up to hug you tightly before curling up back into her bed and whispering her goodnights to you both. Jihoon kept his eyes on you, reaching for your hand as he walked through the door, only stopping to close it behind him, telling Haein he loved her once more before letting it click behind him. 
You were nervous and Jihoon could tell. He could feel your hand trembling in his; he could feel how you almost wanted to pull away from him, but he wasn’t going to let you spiral. Instead, he pulled you back to him as soon as the two of you were in the living room and held you close, resting his lips against the side of your head. 
“Thank you, Y/N. That meant a lot to her and to me.” 
Closing your eyes, you sigh softly, resting against Jihoon, feeling his fingers run along your back as he soothes your nerves. It was scary to be this close to someone emotionally and yet it was all you wanted when it came to Jihoon and Haein. When you weren’t with them, it felt like you were homesick. 
“Mm, I was hoping that it wasn’t crossing the line. I never wanna do—”
Shaking his head, Jihoon leans back and cups your cheek in his hand, causing you to stop speaking mid sentence. You can see the look in his eyes. He didn’t want you to finish what you were going to say. You were always doubting yourself, especially when it came to him and Haein, and perhaps you didn’t need to. 
“Enough of that, please? You are so important to us. You’ve never crossed a line. I—” Sighing, Jihoon slides his fingers down from your face to your neck as he looks over your face, trying to think of the right thing to say. You hear the slight whine in his voice, the nervousness that he has to fight in order to get out his words. “I love you, Y/N.” 
The tears that you had to fight back in Haein’s room weren’t nearly as easy when it came to Jihoon. Turning your head from him, you close your eyes and still tears manage to slip on to your cheeks before you can reach up to wipe them away. Concerned, Jihoon leans his head towards yours and gently turns your face back towards him to see you smiling, a soft whine of protest slipping from your lips that makes him laugh when he realizes you are okay. 
“I thought—why are you crying, baby? I didn’t mean to make you sad.” 
Shaking your head, you reach up with one hand to hold Jihoon’s wrist as you open your eyes and pout at him when you see the smile on his face. “I’m not sad, Jihoon. I’m really happy. I’m so happy that it’s stupid. I don’t deserve any of this.” Gesturing towards the hall behind him, you sniff back more tears as Jihoon reaches up with his free hand to swipe away your tears with his thumb. “Not Haein loving me and especially not you.” 
You watch as Jihoon’s head tilts in confusion, as if your words were in another language that he couldn’t possibly understand. Reaching for your hand, Jihoon sighs under his breath and walks you a few steps backwards as you whine his name until you feel the wall behind your back. “Says who? You deserve the world, Y/N and if it’s the last fucking thing I do, I’ll make sure you get it. So don’t you say shit like that. I meant what I said. I love you. So, if you love me too…” Sighing once again, Jihoon looks nervous once again, almost avoiding your eyes until he makes himself meet them so you know he’s serious. “Say it back.” 
Jihoon was one in a million. You think back to that day when you walked in, nervous and falling over your feet at your interview. You had sat down in front of him and the other men who you now called some of your best friends, but you had made eye contact with Jihoon first. Never in your life did you think that you would end up where you are now and be able to look at him and tell him exactly how you were feeling. 
“I do, Jihoon. I love you.”
Sighing in relief, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours and smiles softly. You feel his hands slide along your arms down to your hands, where he links his fingers with yours. He stays like that for a moment until he can’t stand not to have your lips on his and then he gives into his need and tilts his head, finding what he wants. The soft sigh that leaves your lips causes Jihoon to furrow his brows as his right hand tightens in your left before he drops your right and slides his hand along your side, pushing you tighter against the wall. 
Jihoon speaks against your lips between kisses, “I gotta get you somewhere else. Fuck, baby… I’ve been thinking about this. About you all day.” 
Leaning your head back as Jihoon brushes his lips against your jaw, you smile, feeling shy, though you know it’s just the two of you in the room. You knew that Haein was in her room and hopefully asleep, but you knew it was better if the two of you didn’t start something like this in the living room. Jihoon’s confession of his thoughts about you makes you swoon as you whine his name, pulling at his hand and leaning towards the left and the hallway that would take you both towards his room. 
“Mm, I know. You’re right.” Kissing your neck, Jihoon relishes in the sound of your choked moans before he pulls away, feeling how tight his pants have gotten from just kissing you. Tugging on your hand, he glances over at you, seeing that look in your eye—the one that quickly became one of his favorites. You still seemed so innocent even though Jihoon had ravished you in his bed and yours more than once over the span of your relationship. You were batting your lashes at him, looking down and smiling like you were shy about the entire situation, it was driving Jihoon crazy. 
Pushing open the door to his room, Jihoon feels you pull towards his bed, only for him to guide you back towards him. “Nu-uh, baby. Not yet… I have other plans for us. How does a bath sound?” 
Biting at your bottom lip, you can’t help the way your lips pull up into a giddy smile at the idea of taking a bath with Jihoon. You loved every moment with him. He made you feel like royalty no matter what the two of you were doing, but in bed you were his goddess, and he took his time with you. You could only imagine how good he could make you feel with warm water surrounding your body. 
Nodding, you keep your fingertips resting on Jihoon’s as he leads you into his large ensuite before he finally drops your hand and moves to the oversized soaker tub, turning on the taps as he sits on the side of the tub. You had been in his bathroom a few times, but it never ceased to amaze you just how different he was living compared to you. 
You were used to a small bathroom with a shower tub combo, and Jihoon’s ensuite had an open shower with a rainshower head, a soaker tub, and a double vanity. It was almost overwhelming how much space there was, and you find yourself daydreaming about what Haein had said and if you might end up here one day. How would you ever really adjust? It was nice for a visit, almost like a luxury vacation, but could you handle this every day? 
Jihoon watches you as you seem to wander in the bathroom, your fingers running over the quartz countertop as his fingers trail through the warm water that was beginning to rise in the tub. You were almost overwhelming and stunning. He could watch you forever, just enjoying being in your presence. If it weren’t for the small pout on your lips and the need racing through him, Jihoon might let you keep wandering, but instead he reaches for your hand and brings you back to reality and to him.
“What were you thinking about so hard, beautiful?” Reaching behind you, Jihoon finds the zipper of your dress and slowly pulls it down, letting his other hand rest on your hip as you look down at him thoughtfully. 
Shrugging, you lift your hand and run it through Jihoon’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead before smiling with a shake of your head. “Nothing important. Just admiring the bathroom. It’s really nice.” 
Taking a look around the room quickly, Jihoon shrugs a bit and tilts his head as he lifts his hands and slides your dress off your shoulders, letting it fall on its own to the floor at your feet. His eyes move from your face down your body as he takes in a deep breath of appreciation for what’s in front of him. 
“You’re worth admiring, baby. I’ll never get over this. If I get the chance—” Smiling to himself, Jihoon bites his lip and leans to kiss your stomach before gaining the courage to finish his thought. “If I get the chance to, I wanna undress you every day for the rest of our lives.” Glancing up at you as he reaches to gently tug the straps of your bra down your arms, Jihoon gauges your reaction before he smirks. “Is that too forward?” 
You understand the implications of what Jihoon is saying, but you aren’t sure how to answer or if you remember how to breathe, so instead you just whine his name. Whining Jihoon’s name was something you were good at. He seemed to understand what you were trying to say anytime you did it, so you hoped he would this time as well. 
Shaking his head as you whine, Jihoon stares as more of your skin is exposed, each cup of your bra falling forward, allowing your breasts to spill out for him. “I know, baby. It’s okay, just let me take care of you.” Reaching behind him, Jihoon turns off the water and returns to his task of undressing you. 
With each piece of clothing that hits the floor, his lips walk over your skin and he leaves you breathless and dripping. Gripping at Jihoon’s skin, you find yourself whimpering when he takes your hands, pulling them from his shirt so he can stand up and take a step away from you. 
“Here, angel. Get in the tub for me.” Taking Jihoon’s hand, you let out a happy sigh as you step into the warm water, feeling the warmth run from your toes to your head instantly. Settling into the water allows you to finally look up at Jihoon, and you realize he is still dressed. He had spent his entire time undressing you and getting you comfortable before he had even paid himself any attention. 
“Hoon… I—why didn’t you let me help you? Come here, baby.”
As much as Jihoon loved hearing you call him baby and as much as he wanted your hands on him, he was enjoying the sight of you in the water even more. Shaking his head, he smiles and works the buttons of his shirt open, quickly dropping it on the floor as you pout up at him. “Don’t pout, baby. Lay back for me... Shit, you look so beautiful. Does that feel good?” 
Jihoon watches as you do as he asks; you do lean back and you think you might “punish” him for not letting him touch him by touching yourself. You quickly find that it has the opposite effect on him; he doesn’t feel punished. Instead, Jihoon feels honored to see your fingers move over your body and between your legs. 
Nodding to Jihoon’s question, you move your legs apart further, letting him see through the clear water as you drag your middle finger through your folds over your clit. “Yeah, it does, but Jihoon?” 
Groaning to the sound of your voice, Jihoon tugs hard on his belt, pulling it loose quickly. “Yeah, baby? Fuck, you are killing me.” 
“I want you in this tub with me. Can you go faster?” 
That was all the inspiration Jihoon needed to get his pants and briefs off in record time. Kicking them free of his foot, Jihoon curses under his breath as he moves towards the tub, keeping his eyes on your fingers under the water. He had been enjoying the visual, but now he was getting possessive. He was a jealous man and that came to even you touching yourself. He preferred to be the one making you moan. 
Getting into the tub behind you, Jihoon slides his legs on either side of yours before reaching around your body to grab your hand and pull it carefully from your pussy. With his lips next to your ear, Jihoon grins and takes your hand from the water, bringing your fingers to your lips as he sighs. “Enough of that. I’m here now, but tell me... How does my beautiful girl taste?” 
Opening your mouth, you let Jihoon put your fingers on your tongue before closing your lips around them and sucking them clean. There isn’t much of your taste on them after being in the water, just enough that to know that you were wet despite being in the tub. Leaning your head back to pull your fingers from your mouth, you take a breath and lick your lips. “Okay, but not as good as I know you taste.” 
Jihoon knew differently. He knew that you were the best thing he had ever tasted in his life. Letting go of your hand, Jihoon runs his fingers between your breasts and over your stomach until he finally can dip them between your legs to where your fingers had once been. Turning his fingers slightly towards his palm, he works two of his fingers into your warm entrance as you moan his name. 
You were already clenching around his fingers and Jihoon knew starting with two was pushing you, but between the water and how slick you felt, he knew you could take it. He could feel your pussy sucking his fingers in as your clit started to throb against his palm. “Such a good fucking girl. I love this pussy so much.” Turning his head towards yours, Jihoon presses a kiss to your neck and groans as he rocks his hips against your ass and back, letting you feel his hard cock pressing against you. “Baby… I’m gonna fuck you so full.” 
Resting your head back against Jihoon’s shoulder, you hold on to his thigh under the water as his fingers thrust into you, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Between his fingers and his words, Jihoon was taking you to the edge and he wasn’t looking back. “Please, please, please... Oh, my god!” 
Water moves like a wave as you arch your body hard, pushing against Jihoon’s fingers to fuck yourself on them as you ride out your orgasm. Gasping loudly, you close your eyes tightly and dig your nails into his thigh before falling slack against his body, your thighs shaking. 
“Goddamn, babe. That was so fucking hot.” Sliding his fingers from you, Jihoon’s speaks against your neck between kisses. “I gotta see your pretty face. Please, honey?” Kissing up to your ear, Jihoon runs his fingers back up your stomach to your breast, squeezing gently as he practically begs you to turn around in the tub to face him. 
With a deep breath, you nod once you feel like you can move. Letting Jihoon help you move, you shift on his lap to sit on over his thighs. “This better?” 
Able to see you and touch you, Jihoon runs his hands along your sides to your hips and around to your back as he leans back in the tub. This was much better. This was like a dream. You had asked to ride him a few times, but each time you had seemed shy when the moment came. Now you were in the perfect position to do it. “Much… I can see your face and—” Reaching down to stroke his cock, Jihoon lifts his brows as he nudges his head between your folds, causing you to gasp and jerk in surprise at the feeling. “You can sit on my cock.” 
Jihoon had talked dirty to you in bed, but there was something about tonight. He was extra confident, and you didn’t hate it. His confidence was something that had drawn you to him in the first place. There was something about a confident man who wasn’t overly cocky. Jihoon was the type of confident person who knew when to still have humility, and in bed wasn’t one of those times. He could worship the ground you walked on and the bed you laid on all while having you whining his name. 
“Hoon…” His name comes out like a gasp on a breath as Jihoon teases your clit with the head of his cock once again, feeling you roll your hips towards him. Hissing under his breath, he lifts his eyes towards yours as a smirk pulls at one side of his lips. Holding on to your hip with one hand, the other still holding his cock, he coaxes you up and helps you ease down over him inch by inch until you are sitting flush over his hips. The warmth of your pussy enveloping Jihoon completely causes him to feel like he’s going to explode. 
“Feel so good. God, baby. So, warm and tight. Holding me so good.” Jihoon nods as you whine out a yeah in question. “Yeah, angel. You are perfect. When you’re ready, just let me know. You can ride me or I can move. Up to you, honey.” 
Leaning your head forward as the stretch becomes pleasure, you hold on to Jihoon tightly with your arms around his neck. A moan slips from between your lips when you roll your hips over his cock, feeling him almost deeper than you have before. The sensation is both overwhelming and satisfying, making you want to do it again and again. 
“Jihoon… Oh, my God.” You speak between breathy moans as you try to keep a pace, rocking your hips over Jihoon’s, lifting your hips, and using your knees to fuck yourself over his cock, but it’s too much. You quickly start to get tired. Between the drag of the water and the pleasure building slowly in your abdomen, you get frustrated and cling to Jihoon as he watches you intently. 
He had known this would be one of the best experiences of his life. But Jihoon also knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace you were going for too long. You were his pillow princess and from day one Jihoon had promised not to make you do anything in bed; he aimed to keep that promise even out of bed. 
Sliding his hands along your thighs with a low groan, Jihoon finally finds your hips and grips them tightly. “I know, baby. Shh, let me do the work, huh?” Shaking his head in amazement of you, he rests his head back against the porcelain and keeps you in place with his hands as he thrusts his hips up hard. The sound you make is worth the water that splashes over the side of the tub, as it causes Jihoon’s cock to twitch inside of you before he thrusts again deeper. 
“Fuck…” While he knew that the two of you were on the other side of the house, Jihoon bit at his lips to keep his voice down. You were heaven to be inside of and to watch. Not only were you clenching around him like a warm, soft vice, but you looked like you were straight out of a piece of art. Jihoon wanted to run his hands all over your body, from the line of your neck as you leaned your head back to the swell of your breasts as they moved with each one of his quickened thrusts, and finally down into the water to where his cock was being squeezed so well. 
“Please, please… Oh, Hoon.”
Jihoon was right on the precipice of his climax. Each one of your moaned words was followed by whine and it was almost sinful how much he wanted to capture it on a recording so he could listen to it over and over again. He could imagine himself locked away in his studios on one of his many long nights with his hand around his cock as he listened to your fucked-out voice, remembering how good it felt to be inside of you. Remembering what was waiting for him once he got home. 
You, at home waiting for him. That was the thought that pushed Jihoon over the edge. Groaning your name, Jihoon holds your hip so tightly he’s afraid he might leave a bruise, but in the moment he just needs something to ground him. With his other hand, he slips it between your legs and listens to your moans get louder and higher in pitch as he urges you to follow him and to cum on his cock. 
“God, yes, that’s my girl. Cum with me. All over my cock, baby.” Nodding, Jihoon watches your mouth fall open and he feels your walls tighten and quiver around him as your orgasm rips through you. You had been wet before, but between his cum and yours, Jihoon finds himself slipping his fingers alongside his cock to feel the cum as it seeps into the water. “Told you I’d fill you up, pretty girl.” 
It was always a tight fit for you to take Jihoon’s cock so feeling the extra pressure of his fingertips next to his softening cock has you whimpering. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, you lean in far enough to press your lips to Jihoon’s neck before complaining about the feeling and wiggling your hips hearing him chuckle under his breath. 
“Sensitive…” 
“I know you are baby. Can’t help myself sometimes. If we were in bed, I would have watched it run out of you.” 
Making a face, you scrunch up your nose and bury your face against Jihoon’s neck. “You’re embarrassing.” 
Wet fingers move over your head and down your back as Jihoon lets himself soften inside of you completely, neither of you in a rush to move too quickly. He laughs, feeling your cheek heating up against his skin and your muffled words. “Am I? You don’t like it? I love watching my cum dripping out of you. Means you’re mine...” 
Whining again, you nip gently at Jihoon’s neck, hearing him laugh before it quickly turns into a groan at the feeling. He knew what he was doing. There were many nights where one round would turn to two after, but you were just happy to be in his arms. “You are a control freak, Lee Jihoon.” 
You weren’t wrong. Jihoon smirks, lifting his brow as he sinks a bit further down in the water, knowing the two of you can’t stay in the tub for much longer. There was nothing clean about this water anymore and he needed to get you taken care of sooner rather than later. It was just difficult not to have you in his arms for as long as possible, and it was even harder not to keep you on his cock if he could. 
“So? You say that like it’s a bad thing. I think it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with me.” 
Jihoon can feel your lips pull up into a smile and it makes his lips do the same. You did love him and he loved you. That wasn’t going to change. In Jihoon’s mind, you were it. You were his one and only. He had been taught that great love comes around once in a lifetime and he was holding on to his. 
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Feeling warmth moving along your skin, you hum softly as your lips turn up in a smile against your pillow. While your bed at home was comfortable, it did not compare to Jihoon’s bed. Pulling your knees up towards your stomach, you snuggle with the pillow for a moment longer before stretching your hand out to where Jihoon had been the night before, when the two of you had fallen asleep. A pout takes the place of your smile when all you feel is satin sheets that have been warmed by the early morning sun. 
“Hoon?” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. Between just waking up and how much Jihoon had loved you the night before, you find your throat is dry and a bit tender. Clearing your throat, you sit up and glance around the room, only seeing specks of dust in the rays of sunlight that manage to peek through the blinds. 
Starting to say his name again, you stop when the sound of music catches your attention. It’s quiet and at a distance, making you realize that Jihoon is in his studio. Biting at your lips, you slip from the bed and pull on one of Jihoon’s button-ups along with a pair of shorts from the drawer dubbed as yours before you tiptoe out of the room and down the hall. 
You find the door cracked; trying to sneak in, you push on the door handle with one hand and the frame with the other. The song is one you don’t recognize. You can hear Jihoon singing quietly under his breath, no words fully formed and the melody still scattered and yet it is beautiful. 
Still tiptoeing and trying to stay quiet, you watch Jihoon working diligently on the project from a distance. He was always a hard worker, putting his all into anything he did—but this seemed different, this seemed even more important to him. 
Titling his head, Jihoon scratches at his scalp a bit annoyed as he reads over the music in front of him. This had to be perfect because it was—the sound of the floorboards creaking behind him makes Jihoon sit up straight before he spins his chair to find you wincing as you walk towards him like a burglar from a cartoon, one leg still in the air. While Jihoon wants to be upset that you are sneaking around and spying on him, he knows that isn’t what you are doing, and you look so cute that he can’t help but to laugh. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Shaking his head, Jihoon turns and quickly minimizes what he’s working on before leaning to grab your hand and pulling you to him to sit on his lap in his chair. Nudging his nose against your shoulder, Jihoon watches your eyes move to his computer as you pout and look back at him apologetically. 
“I heard music and I wanted to see what you were doing without bothering you. Plus, you left me in bed alone. I was missing you.” 
Sighing softly, Jihoon kisses the back of your shoulder as he presses his hands to your stomach through his shirt. “I missed you too. You looked too peaceful to wake up; besides, I got up a long time ago. You needed more sleep than me.” 
Turning to the side in Jihoon’s lap, you shake your head to disagree with him. In your mind, you didn’t need anything if it didn’t include Jihoon, whereas in his, he would do anything to make sure you were happy and healthy. 
“No, but I do love your bed. It’s so nice.” Gesturing to his computer, you rub your lips together as you tap your fingers along his arm, being tempted to reach for his mouse to reopen the project he was working on. “What were you doing? The song seemed really pretty. I’ve never heard it before.” 
Jihoon knew you were going to ask, but he was hoping he could distract you enough or get you on to something else with your day before you’d remember. Rolling his eyes in faux annoyance, Jihoon leans his head back, reaching over to his mouse to close the project, completely leaving it hidden on his computer. He hears you gasp when you can’t see it anymore on the taskbar. 
“It’s... a surprise. I’m writing a song for you and it’s not finished. So keep your greedy little paws off my computer, you hear me?” 
The idea of Jihoon writing you a song makes your heart swell with emotions. Staring at him, you aren’t sure what to do or say at first so you nod and then shake your head, hearing Jihoon laugh as he copies you. “You did hear me or you didn’t, Y/N?” 
“I did! I heard you, Jihoon, but... you, what? Really? For me? When can I hear it? Can’t I see it now? Oh my god, baby... that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever told me.” 
You were gushing and while Jihoon loved hearing you spiraling for a good reason, he wasn’t going to give in and let you see or hear something that wasn’t perfect. Shaking his head, Jihoon laces his fingers with your left hand and leans to kiss your neck with a soft hum. “No, you can’t see it now. It is for you and I will give it to you, I promise.” 
Scoffing, you lean into Jihoon’s kiss, listening to his words. He was giving you half answers. Whining his name, you lean away from his body some to see him better as he laughs under his breath and sighs your name in return as his fingers slide to play with your ring finger of your left hand. “Y/N… I—I’ll give you the song on our wedding day. How ‘bout that?” 
The answer stuns you and makes your face bloom with heat. Glancing away from Jihoon, you try to keep the tears that threaten to collect on the rims of your eyes from spilling over as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Hm? Does that sound fair?” 
When you nod, Jihoon grins against your hand and sighs. “Good, because I love you so much and I wouldn’t give you anything unless it’s perfect.” 
Jihoon watches your bottom lip stick out slightly as you pout tears finally making their way to your cheeks when you blink a few times trying to regain your composure only to fail. “I love you. You’re already perfect; nothing has to be perfect. Why would you say that to me, Jihoon? Don’t tease me.” 
Smiling, Jihoon shakes his head and pushes on your pout with his thumb before turning your face towards him so he can wipe away your tears. “Who’s teasing anybody?” 
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pucksandpower · 3 months ago
Text
Find Me Again
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
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Alexandria, 30 BC
The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.
You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.
“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”
You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”
Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”
You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”
He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”
Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”
“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”
You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”
Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”
A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”
He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”
“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.
Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.
A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.
“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”
You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”
“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”
With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.
But fate, it seems, has other plans.
The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.
On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.
“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”
A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”
Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”
You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.
“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”
Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.
“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.
Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”
Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”
Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”
“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”
With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.
She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”
Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”
Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.
Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.
Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.
“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.
The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.
Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.
When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...
“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”
Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”
But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.
For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.
Pompeii, 79 AD
The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.
“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”
A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.
“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”
You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”
Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.
“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”
“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”
Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.
Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.
As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.
“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”
He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”
“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.
Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.
“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.
As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.
“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”
You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”
He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”
As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.
“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.
Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.
“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”
You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.
“Lando?” You whisper after a while.
“Hmm?”
“I’m scared.”
He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”
“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”
Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”
“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”
You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”
Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”
“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”
“Oh? And what might those be?”
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”
Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”
Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.
“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”
He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.
“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”
You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.
“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.
“Yes, love?”
“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”
You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”
Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”
“Me too,” you whisper.
As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.
And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.
Salem, 1692
The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.
Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.
Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”
You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.
“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”
A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”
“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”
Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”
Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”
A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.
“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”
The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”
“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”
But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.
“She cursed my crops!”
“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”
“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”
The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”
All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”
“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”
A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.
But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”
The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.
“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”
As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.
“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”
Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”
The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”
He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”
Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”
As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”
You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”
“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.
“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”
The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.
The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.
On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.
You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.
As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.
Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.
Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.
“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”
And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.
Yekaterinburg, 1918
The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.
“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.
Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.
“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.
He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.
“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”
Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”
A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”
Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.
As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.
His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”
“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”
A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”
“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.
Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.
In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.
“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”
Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”
You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”
For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”
As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.
“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.
You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.
“Aim!”
“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.
You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.
“Fire!”
The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.
With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”
Then darkness claims you.
Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.
“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”
As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.
What has he done?
He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.
Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?
As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.
Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.
It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.
Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”
As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.
The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.
Jonestown, 1978
The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.
“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”
You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.
“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.
“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”
Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.
“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”
He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”
But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”
On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.
You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.
“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”
But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.
“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.
You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.
“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”
Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”
Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.
“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”
But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.
The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.
As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.
“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.
His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”
You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”
Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”
A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.
He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”
As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.
“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”
Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”
You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.
As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.
“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.
Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.
As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.
Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.
Next time, let it be different.
Next time, let us live.
And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.
In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.
Monaco, 2024
The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”
The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.
“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”
You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.
“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”
Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”
Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”
You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”
The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”
“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”
Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.
“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”
You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”
“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”
You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”
“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”
The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.
“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”
Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”
“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”
“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”
The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.
“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”
Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”
You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”
The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.
“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”
For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”
The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”
You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.
The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”
You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”
Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.
“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”
As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”
Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”
As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.
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reasonsforhope · 10 months ago
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The World's Forests Are Doing Much Better Than We Think
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You might be surprised to discover... that many of the world’s woodlands are in a surprisingly good condition. The destruction of tropical forests gets so much (justified) attention that we’re at risk of missing how much progress we’re making in cooler climates.
That’s a mistake. The slow recovery of temperate and polar forests won’t be enough to offset global warming, without radical reductions in carbon emissions. Even so, it’s evidence that we’re capable of reversing the damage from the oldest form of human-induced climate change — and can do the same again.
Take England. Forest coverage now is greater than at any time since the Black Death nearly 700 years ago, with some 1.33 million hectares of the country covered in woodlands. The UK as a whole has nearly three times as much forest as it did at the start of the 20th century.
That’s not by a long way the most impressive performance. China’s forests have increased by about 607,000 square kilometers since 1992, a region the size of Ukraine. The European Union has added an area equivalent to Cambodia to its woodlands, while the US and India have together planted forests that would cover Bangladesh in an unbroken canopy of leaves.
Logging in the tropics means that the world as a whole is still losing trees. Brazil alone removed enough woodland since 1992 to counteract all the growth in China, the EU and US put together. Even so, the planet’s forests as a whole may no longer be contributing to the warming of the planet. On net, they probably sucked about 200 million metric tons of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere each year between 2011 and 2020, according to a 2021 study. The CO2 taken up by trees narrowly exceeded the amount released by deforestation. That’s a drop in the ocean next to the 53.8 billion tons of greenhouse gases emitted in 2022 — but it’s a sign that not every climate indicator is pointing toward doom...
More than a quarter of Japan is covered with planted forests that in many cases are so old they’re barely recognized as such. Forest cover reached its lowest extent during World War II, when trees were felled by the million to provide fuel for a resource-poor nation’s war machine. Akita prefecture in the north of Honshu island was so denuded in the early 19th century that it needed to import firewood. These days, its lush woodlands are a major draw for tourists.
It’s a similar picture in Scandinavia and Central Europe, where the spread of forests onto unproductive agricultural land, combined with the decline of wood-based industries and better management of remaining stands, has resulted in extensive regrowth since the mid-20th century. Forests cover about 15% of Denmark, compared to 2% to 3% at the start of the 19th century.
Even tropical deforestation has slowed drastically since the 1990s, possibly because the rise of plantation timber is cutting the need to clear primary forests. Still, political incentives to turn a blind eye to logging, combined with historically high prices for products grown and mined on cleared tropical woodlands such as soybeans, palm oil and nickel, mean that recent gains are fragile.
There’s no cause for complacency in any of this. The carbon benefits from forests aren’t sufficient to offset more than a sliver of our greenhouse pollution. The idea that they’ll be sufficient to cancel out gross emissions and get the world to net zero by the middle of this century depends on extraordinarily optimistic assumptions on both sides of the equation.
Still, we should celebrate our success in slowing a pattern of human deforestation that’s been going on for nearly 100,000 years. Nothing about the damage we do to our planet is inevitable. With effort, it may even be reversible.
-via Bloomburg, January 28, 2024
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rafey-baby · 2 months ago
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c/w: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing naive!reader's underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home
18+ mdni!
wc: 2.3k
he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now. At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her; having watched one too many horror films with her friends.
However, as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 
She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a morbid gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or merely cleaning her living room.
She didn’t like it, didn’t know when it exactly began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.
She’d be changing her clothes in order to get ready for bed when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window; trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she'd finally have some sort of an explanation. Instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard before she’d quickly draw the curtains closed. 
In addition, lately she’d been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night panting with her heart thudding in her ribcage and sometimes she could swear she felt the eyes of a stranger still lingering on her sweaty skin. 
Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.
unknown number
why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?
look so pretty in your underwear…
4 attachments
The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold as her eyes scan over the multiple pictures of her half naked; all taken through the glass of the large window in her room. A window she's lately been making sure is covered at all times.
She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more; heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen to type out a response. 
you
who is this?
im gonna call the cops
unknown number
do I scare you?
And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they find nothing. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 
A couple of days go by and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number as she’s boiling pasta for dinner.
This time, she decides to simply ignore it; choosing to believe it’s someone calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen and her breath gets caught in her windpipe as she scans it over. 
unknown number
breaking my heart here princess :(
you
leave me alone
unknown number
but that’s no fun, is it?
you
what do u want from me?
unknown number
want you to keep your curtains open more often
you
so u can take more pictures of me?
unknown number
can just watch if that’s what you prefer?
you
leave me alone
please
She repeats before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. 
She thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to turn less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.
At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes from her drawer she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be where she left it, right?
The air suddenly feels like sand; poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff he’s had to break into her home. Therefore, he’s been in her bedroom before and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago. 
Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now.
If he wanted to hurt her, then he would’ve done it by now. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in order to offer some form of solace for her troubled thoughts.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The following night she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara by the sink when a text pops up. 
psycho stalker
someone came home late
have fun on your date?
Chills erupt on her skin as she peers down at the screen. After the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted with his arduous mind games on top of it all; wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.
However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether as another message pops up.
psycho stalker
assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..
you
none of your business 
psycho stalker
was he boring?
talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?
She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 
you
what the fuck is wrong with you
you’re following me now??
She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.
psycho stalker
just wanted to make sure you were safe
you
I feel very safe right now thank you
psycho stalker
someone’s got an attitude
that bad?
you
please just leave me alone 
psycho stalker
what color are your panties?
you
what the hell?
not telling you that
psycho stalker
want me to come over and find out for myself then? 
you
u wouldn’t do that 
psycho stalker
wanna bet?
She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 
you
black
psycho stalker
with the lace?
you
yes
psycho stalker
shit
that’s one of my favorites on you
you
you’re sick in the head
psycho stalker
that’s not very nice
did you wear them for him?
you
he wasn’t worth it
don’t think he would’ve even been able to make me come
psycho stalker
yeah?
need help with that?
you
not from you creep
why are you stealing my underwear?
psycho stalker
cause you don’t give me shows anymore :(
they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?
you
you’re disgusting
psycho stalker
and you're up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me
you
I don't
gonna sleep now
please leave me alone
psycho stalker
sweet dreams princess
At that, she finally locks her phone; wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
One night she’s walking home from the grocery store, mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag as she’s messaging her friend who’s enthusiastically telling her the details of the kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages.  
Then completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone’s sturdy chest.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she's quick to apologize before she looks up and is met with blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps.  
They’re slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face, resulting in him raking a hand through the strands as his brows raise, almost like he's surprised. However, that wouldn't really make any sense since she's never seen him before, she figures. 
“S’all good. Wasn’t really looking either,” he rasps out as his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her; examining her every reaction. 
“No, it was really my fault. Shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and tries to step away from him and continue on with her journey. However, he halts her movements when he speaks up again.   
“Shouldn’t be walking alone this late either, you know. All kinds of creeps out here just waiting for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge to his voice that causes the hairs on her arms to stand.  
She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly. She thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but there’s something almost disturbing about his aura. 
“I know, but it’s really just a ten-minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.  
“Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” His offer comes out as something ominous rather than concern over her safety and the stillness of the darkened October sky surrounding them suddenly makes unease litter across her skin.  
“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though,” she politely declines and tries to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.  
“It’s past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists; seemingly not accepting no for an answer as his tone resembles more of a demand now. 
“O— okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she's just signed up her faith as his next victim. 
The murky sidewalk is quiet as they tread along it and she keeps glancing towards him every now and then; reassuring herself that a sharp knife or a gun hasn't magically appeared in his hand. 
Although, she thinks he wouldn't need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms. Under the obscurity provided by the old trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul would wither away from her lifeless eyes; getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.  
“Something on your mind?” His sudden question makes her jump. 
“N— no, nothing. I just— have we met before?” She hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.  
“Pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” his indistinct response is calm, too calm for her liking.  
“It's just that, um, it's a small neighborhood and I've never seen you around?” She flits her eyes over to him, trying to figure him out. 
“I don't live here,” his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the ambiguity of his answer not soothing her racing brain in the slightest.  
“Oh, okay...cool,” she peeps out; trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.  
A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth at her obvious nervousness and for some reason, he appears to be enjoying this; finding crooked entertainment in her dismay.  
He halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived at her destination.  
“How did you— how did you know this was my house?” She tentatively wonders. 
“Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that's nowhere near uplifting. 
She blinks. 
“Right, well, thanks for walking me...I’m gonna go now,” she squeaks out and takes a step towards the front yard.  
“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he murmurs and her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname. 
“What did you just say?” Something dire bubbles up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu. 
“Just wished you a good night? You feeling alright?” He furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing but she notices something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes; almost like some sort of sick satisfaction.  
“I’m— I’m fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out as a crease forms between her brows and her breathing grows labored when his mouth curls into an almost sinister smirk.  
“You sure?”  
She flinches when he sets a heavy hand on her arm and he's suddenly all too close for comfort. 
“Y— yes,” she tries to pull away. However, she unfortunately stumbles on her wobbly feet, nearly tumbling down on the harsh grass if not for his firm arms holding her upright by a grip on her waist. 
“Careful now, don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?” He scolds her with a click of his tongue; steadying her with an intrigued narrow of blue gemstones.  
“Sorry,” a breathy apology escapes past her lips as her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater. 
“Run along then, yeah?” He murmurs as he lets go of her along with a small push towards the right direction.   
Then she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her; trepidation clogging her lungs as she decides against glancing towards him once more, closing her front door and making sure it’s locked, twice. 
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lovifie · 9 months ago
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Fluff | Smut | 1178 words | Back to Masterlist
Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.
The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.
And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.
Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.
Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking into consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.
A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course, he didn't say anything romantic, instead, he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."
It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."
On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up every day with that sight.
It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.
And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.
Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.
Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.
"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.
"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."
You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hits forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."
"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night is on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.
"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had the energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.
"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knocked out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."
"Simon."
"Simon?"
"Simon Riley."
A beat of silence simmered in the bathroom for a second.
"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."
And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.
But he didn't, instead, he eased his way into your heart.
It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.
Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of your hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lungs but still making him feel more alive than ever.
Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.
Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow in his sleep, completely relaxed and content with himself.
Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.
Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.
Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.
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that-house · 5 months ago
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It is often believed that time travel is impossible, because if someone did achieve it, we would be seeing time travelers popping up all over the place. Even if they tried to keep their actions a secret, someone would fuck up eventually, right?
Like, with an infinite future and everyone and their time-traveling mother jumping back to try original recipe Four Loko and breathe air with a silicon content under 10 ppm, surely by sheer dint of numbers SOMEONE would get caught appearing in a flash of light by some gas station CCTV camera. But it’s never happened.
Given that no one’s ever seen any evidence of time travelers, we’re doomed to live in a sad little linear timestream, the mysteries of the past lost to us forever, right? Wrong! The truth is perhaps much more disappointing for us present-day plebians, but if it helps the time travelers of the future are having a wonderful time.
Humanity will discover time travel in the year 2302 CE and none of us losers living in the 21st century will ever know about it, all because of a man named Aldus Aldusson, a subsistence farmer living in 1100s England. The advanced predictive algorithms of the far future indicated that if he had been born in 1997, he would have been the greatest Warriors AMV artist to ever live, and every single time traveler is hanging out with him.
They give him a drawing tablet and access to DeviantArt, and overnight he becomes the most famous person in history. He’s more famous than Jesus: even in the future’s lightless Deep Cities where they venerate new and vile gods and don’t really keep up with the tabloids, the name of Aldus Aldusson is spoken in hushed reverence.
In 2303 they put up a screen that covers the Sistine Chapel ceiling and just shows his AMVs in there 24/7. You’d think some Catholics would be pissed about that but the paintings up there were looking faded as shit by the mid-2200s and Firestar is cooler than God anyways.
No one in the future gives a shit about 9/11 or the Titanic or the Laser Wars. They just want to see his new video of Graystripe and Silverstream animated to Lady Gaga’s Eh, Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say), and can you blame them? He really is that good.
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