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senascoop · 1 month ago

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TIL DEATH DO US PART , S.JY !

PAIRING: husband ! jake × afab reader

SYNOPSIS: In an arranged marriage where sparks never flew, you finally chose divorce as the only path to freedom. But when your husband died in a sudden accident, life took an unexpected turn, binding you to a reality marked by guilt, grief, and the shadows of unfulfilled words. Now, you must navigate a world that holds him forever gone.

GENRE: fluff + angst

WARNING(S): not proofread, kissing, dirty jokes, a little bit suggestive, mentions of suicide and death, insecurities, mentions of pregnancy. lmk if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 16.2K

FEAT: JAY from ENHYPEN + some ocs

MASTERLISTS ARCHIVE !!

NOTE FROM SENA ┊ had this idea going from quite a lot of time (two months lol) though i wasn't sure of posting it... but here you go i guess. was supposed to post this a day ago for Jake’s bday (🎂) but I hope this still works. definitely won't claim this as one of my best works but hope it's not too bad. would love to know your opinions <3

DEAR JAKE,

I’m sorry, but I can’t continue living like this. I’m leaving. Our marriage has become a constant battle, and I believe we’re both suffering more by holding on than we would by letting go. I know neither of us wanted it to come to this, and I wish things were different. But deep down, I think we’re better apart. I hope one day you’ll understand.

With regret, Y/N.

TEARS BLURRED YOUR VISION AS YOU STARED AT THE CRUMBLED NOTE IN YOUR HAND—the one you had written to Jake months ago. The one that now felt like a curse. Your hands shook as you traced the familiar words, guilt twisting your insides. I’m leaving. I’m sorry. He had never known the true weight of those words. And now he never would.

The police had found it in his pocket. They said he’d carried it with him, even after everything. Even when he... when he was gone.

You collapsed onto the couch, clutching the note like a lifeline, but it only felt like a reminder of how far you had pushed him. How much you had wanted out, and now, how deeply you regretted it. A year together, two lives constantly at odds, and it had ended in this way. A divorce that never came, an accident that did. You didn’t want this, didn’t want him gone, but now, all you had was this—regret, and a body that was too still in your bed to hold. The anger, the frustration of him being gone—it consumed you, ate at your soul.

Why couldn’t you have waited?

You had hoped time apart would fix things, give you both breathing room. But he hadn’t lived long enough for you to see the good you could have made of it. The guilt ate you alive, deeper than the frustration ever had. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have known, but deep down, the truth stung. Your note had been his last reminder of your marriage. His last memory. He had carried your rejection right until the end.

Would things have been different if you hadn’t written that letter?

The thought raked at your mind like shards of glass, shredding everything in its path. What if you had kept fighting for him, for the marriage? Would he have been here? Would you have learned to love him? Or would he still have left, still have been gone, no matter what?

Your thoughts flickered back to moments with him—so small, so easy to overlook. The way Jake had rolled his eyes every time you’d scolded his niece Semi for spilling juice, or how he had tried to hide his smirk as he pretended to act innocent. The little things that used to irritate you, that you had never really appreciated until now.

You remembered the way he defended you against his relatives, his words sharp and protective as they made cruel comments about your body. They didn’t understand, but Jake did. He had always been there, not perfect but trying.

“She suits me well enough.”

The memory felt like a slap now, a cruel joke. You had spent so much time pushing him away, not seeing that he cared. You hadn’t seen that he had tried.

“Why couldn’t I have seen it?” you whispered to the empty room, curling up on the bed, pressing your face into the pillow. The tears soaked into the fabric, and the sobs wracked through you like a storm. Why was it only now, when he was gone, that you realized how much he had mattered?

You had never kissed him, never held him the way a wife should. You thought you had the luxury of time, but now you had nothing left but his memory. The memory of a man you barely knew but had somehow been the one constant in your life. How selfish of you to push him away. How stupid to think it was all about the fights, the annoyances, and not about the love you could have had.

“Please... Jake. I’m sorry...”

The words escaped you as your sobs grew louder, choking your breath. Your body trembled with grief, the weight of regret pressing down on you until you couldn’t breathe. If only you could undo it, go back and rewrite the note. If only you hadn’t given up on him, on the marriage, on the chance for something more.

The room felt suffocating now, as though the walls were closing in around you. What now? you thought. There was no future with him anymore. No next step. No reconciliation.

Why had you waited so long to realize how much he meant to you?

You sank deeper into your pillow, tears soaking your face and your hair, wishing for the impossible: for him to walk through the door, to come back, to make everything okay again. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

And all that was left was you. And the note.

YOUR MOTHER IN LAW’S HANDS TREMBLE AS SHE EXTENDS THE ANCESTRAL RING TOWARDS YOU, her eyes glistening with raw grief. The ring's delicate gold band catches the light, an unwanted reminder of everything Jake represented—strength, love, an unfinished story.

“He wanted you to have this… but I never thought I’d give it to you now. Not like this,” she whispers, her voice breaking before dissolving into quiet sobs. The sound is so raw it scrapes at your heart. For a moment, the room feels unbearably small, closing in with the suffocating weight of shared loss.

You stare at the ring, fingers hovering uncertainly. The thought of accepting it feels like admitting he’s really gone. Yet, you know you can’t refuse it; Jake’s wish, even unspoken now, feels sacred. You slip the ring onto your finger, a silent acknowledgment of the man you had once promised yourself to, a man you’ll never get the chance to truly know.

With a hesitant step forward, you place your hand on her shoulder, the touch meant to soothe but feeling fragile, as though it could shatter under the weight of her grief. The older woman leans into you, body racked with tremors as she buries her face in her hands. Her sobs rise and fall in uneven waves, echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“Please… don’t cry,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracking at the edges. The night had drained you, leaving your eyes dry yet still burning, poised for more tears that you no longer had the strength to shed.

Her grief pierces deeper. “He wouldn’t want to see you in pain,” you add, voice low, carrying the weight of a plea that even you don’t believe.

“I-I know,” she manages between sobs, her shoulders trembling. “But… he was so young, so full of life. It should’ve been me, not him. He barely started his life, and now…”

The room seems to warp under the heaviness of her words. You know she’s right. The unfairness of it all gnaws at you. But what would Jake want? The question echoes in your mind, clawing for answers you wish you didn’t have to seek.

You close your eyes for a brief second, conjuring his face in your memory—the way his smile would sneak out when he thought you weren’t looking, the stubborn tilt of his chin when he was determined. You imagine him here, telling you what to do, how to be strong for her when he couldn’t be.

Drawing in a shaking breath, you shift, wrapping your arms around your mother-in-law. She stiffens for a heartbeat before collapsing into the embrace, her body convulsing with grief. Her head rests on your shoulder, and you stroke her back, the gesture rhythmic, almost desperate, as if the act itself could soothe the unsoothable.

“My poor boy… he must’ve been so scared, so alone in those final moments,” she chokes out, and it’s as if a knife twists in your chest. The image of him in pain, of his last moments, blurs the edges of your control. A tear slips down your cheek, a singular escape among the multitude waiting behind your lashes.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you whisper, barely audible. The guilt is relentless, intertwining with the ache of loneliness that had settled deep within you long before he passed. You were alone when he was alive, and now that emptiness has transformed, sharpened by grief, into something more unbearable.

Her sobs quiet, just enough for her to lift her head and take in your expression, your tears mingling with unsaid words. She studies you, eyes clouded by grief but touched with understanding.

“You must feel so alone too… You and Jake… barely had time,” she murmurs, her voice a weak echo of empathy.

The silence stretches, heavy and uncertain. You meet her gaze and see the exhaustion, the pain mirrored back at you. It anchors you for a moment, before she speaks again.

“You’re still young. You should think of moving forward one day. Remarry, maybe… You’ll always be like a daughter to me, but you have to live, too.”

Your heart clenches, rejecting the thought. You don’t want to. The ache of wanting Jake, even in a marriage that had felt distant, is a raw wound you can’t imagine healing. The loneliness was familiar; life without him is uncharted, unbearable.

“I won’t… I can’t,” you admit, voice shaking as the tears finally spill, unchecked. “I just want him back. Even if it means being lonely again.”

The words break you open, and this time, neither of you tries to stop the crying. You hold each other in the ruins of shared loss, hoping, against hope, that the pieces of your shattered hearts will one day feel less sharp.

YOUR HANDS CHILLED FROM THE BRISK AIR, DIG DEEPER INTO YOUR COAT POCKETS AS YOU GAZE OUT INTO THE SWIRLING SNOW, a faint numbness settling in your bones. Each snowflake that brushes against your cheek feels colder than the last, a physical reminder of the frost that’s taken root in your heart, a void Jake's absence left behind. Life has lost its rhythm, its purpose, and the bustling world seems foreign, moving on a beat you no longer recognize.

Nursing, once a passion that filled your heart, now feels suffocating. The once-simple act of caring for patients, seeing them through their darkest times, now stirs something darker inside you—an envy for their hope, their chances. These creeping, bitter thoughts had scared you enough to step back from the only profession you knew. The faces of crying relatives haunted your dreams, their grief striking chords too familiar, too close. You’d sworn to heal, never harm, yet here you are, carrying shadows of guilt too heavy to bear.

The café’s warmth hits you as you push through the door, a momentary comfort against the gnawing cold. You shuffle forward, fingers fumbling in your pocket for money as your eyes wander the room. Jake had always spoken fondly of this place, a little corner shop with its cozy mismatched chairs and the sweet aroma of cocoa and baked pastries. A small pang clenches your chest, regret whispering its usual 'what ifs.' If only you’d agreed to visit here with him, if only time hadn’t been a cruel master.

The barista, a young woman with weary eyes, glances up as she speaks. “Ma’am, are you ordering?” Her voice, though polite, carries a slight impatience with the growing line behind you.

“Ah, yes… a cold coffee,” you manage, the words falling flat as if they don’t quite belong to you. Her brows lift, a flicker of confusion.

“In this weather?” she asks, a hint of genuine concern lacing her tone.

Realizing the absurdity, you swallow, forcing a small, resigned nod. “Hot chocolate then,” you say, the warmth of Jake’s recommendation tugging at the edges of your memory.

The exchange is brief, the hot drink pressed into your hands a minute later. As you turn to leave, the weight of the ancestral ring around your finger pulls at you, its cool surface grounding and yet suffocating. The bittersweet metal reflects a dull glow, a silent reminder of promises made and broken, of the love lost and the void left behind.

The wind picks up outside, tugging at your coat as you sip the hot chocolate. Its warmth spreads through you, but it’s fleeting, never enough to touch the ache within. You shake your head, Jake’s face vivid in your mind, his teasing smile as he’d planned your future dates. You’d push the thought aside, but every step feels like dragging a part of him behind you.

“Why can’t I let go?” you murmur, voice snatched away by the icy air. Your brother-in-law’s words echo in your mind, urging you to stop living in Jake’s shadow. But how do you tear yourself away from the ghost of a love that never got to finish its story?

Snow clings to your coat as you continue to trudge through the city, each step heavy with an ache that refuses to fade. The glow of the streetlights bathes the snow in a warm, golden hue, contrasting the bitter chill that settles in your chest. Sipping the hot chocolate, you try to focus on the warmth sliding down your throat, but the sweetness only sharpens the emptiness inside. The steam curls from the cup, a fleeting comfort as your breath mingles with it in the frigid air.

You pause near a park bench, eyes darting to couples bundled up, their laughter piercing through the quiet snowfall. One couple stands close, the man adjusting the scarf around his partner’s neck with a smile that makes your heart clench. You bite the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper sharp on your tongue as you fight back the sting in your eyes. The jealousy gnaws at you, sour and uninvited.

The memory of Jake’s voice flits through your mind, warm and teasing: “Good things happen to good people.” You scoff, the bitterness in that statement now a cruel joke. Were you not good enough? The universe seemed to think so, because it had ripped him away, leaving a hollow shell in his place.

Lost in thought, you find yourself on the bridge, fingers trailing over the iron railing that has frosted over, leaving cool streaks on your gloves. This place, once so filled with light and memories, feels haunted now. You trace a path where your and Jake’s hands once met, where laughter and shared secrets once echoed.

A voice, small and familiar, intrudes on your thoughts. Semi’s question echoes, fragile and innocent: “Aunty, when will Uncle come home?” You close your eyes, the lump in your throat thickening as the memory sharpens. You remember her wide, unknowing eyes searching yours for an answer you couldn't give, the guilt of that half-truth searing into you as you whispered, “I’m not sure, sweetie.”

You grip the railing tighter, feeling the cold seep through your gloves as the ache of regret claws at your heart. The river below moves steadily, unaffected by the chaos in your chest. You look down, watching the water catch the light in rippling patterns, your reflection distorted and wavering. The noise of the city fades as you breathe in the freezing air, each exhale a shuddering attempt to steady yourself.

A gust of wind stings your face, and you force yourself to look up, straightening with a resolve that feels fragile. Jake’s brother and his wife were inside your apartment, their watchful eyes filled with concern disguised as casual chatter. You know why they stay—it’s not out of pity, but out of fear, a silent agreement to keep you tethered when your world felt like it was splitting at the seams.

The laughter from the park drifts over again, mingling with the hum of distant traffic. For a moment, you let yourself remember the warmth of Jake’s embrace, the way he’d nudge your shoulder and murmur, “Life doesn’t stop, even when we want it to.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” you whisper into the night, the words barely a breath as they dissolve in the chill.

The warmth of the hot chocolate fades as the biting wind grazes your skin, a cruel reminder of the numbing void left behind. You stare at the bridge, eyes tracing the railings where Jake’s laughter once echoed. A memory surfaces, unbidden yet vivid.

“I know this isn't what either of us planned, but... I wish we could work it out,” Jake had said, a touch of hesitation softening his confident voice. His hands, hesitant but steady, hovered near you, respecting the space you held between.

“I wish that too,” you had murmured, the lie sliding off your tongue too easily. You’d convinced yourself you didn't care enough for Jake then, but the pang of that memory now gnawed at your insides. Regret had a way of reshaping the past, twisting even the most indifferent moments into sharp blades.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Jake had prodded gently, eyes bright even as he leaned down to meet your gaze.

Caught off guard, you’d raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” The question felt foreign, untouched by anyone's curiosity until now.

“Your ideal type,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as though challenging you. His height had always made you tilt your head back to catch his expression—a detail that now felt like a cruel nostalgia.

“Why would you ask that?” You'd played along, teasing but curious.

Jake chuckled, the sound resonant and warm. “Because we're getting married, and maybe knowing each other better will make it feel less... strange. Maybe, just maybe, we'll fall in love.” His hand, finally settling on your shoulder, had felt reassuring, a silent promise in its touch.

The memory cleaves through you like a knife, leaving behind a raw wound that no time or distance can heal. A single tear slips down your cheek as you blink, the reality of the moment washing over you like a wave. The park across the street bustles with couples walking hand-in-hand, laughter and warmth breaking through the cold that wraps around you. A fresh ache takes root, sharp and relentless.

You drop the empty cup into the trash can, the metallic clang breaking your reverie. The grief, heavy and suffocating, presses you to the edge as you turn and begin the long walk home. Your footsteps are heavy, every step an effort against the pull of the past.

“Aunty, you're so late. Did you bring Uncle with you?” Semi’s small voice meets you at the door, eyes bright with innocent hope. The guilt hits you like a punch, stealing the air from your lungs. Your throat tightens as you shake your head, eyes avoiding her searching gaze.

Jieun, seeing your reaction, sighs softly as she pulls Semi closer. “Semi, we talked about this, remember?” Her voice holds the practiced patience of a mother trying to shield her child from the pain.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Semi mumbles, eyes dropping to her tiny hands that fidget nervously. The sight twists your heart, guilt layering over the grief that refuses to ease.

You force a hollow smile. “It’s okay, Jieun. She's just a kid,” you say, your voice low and void of emotion as you shrug off your winter coat and hang it up. The familiar routine feels like a play you no longer wish to act in.

“Still, I just—” Jieun’s words falter as you cut her off, your voice breaking the tension.

“Please,” you murmur, the word sharp and desperate, silencing the room. The stillness that follows is suffocating, your breaths shallow as you fight to keep your composure.

Jieun's eyes search yours, understanding but hesitant. “We just don’t want you to be alone,” she whispers, her voice thick with worry.

“I know,” you reply, sitting on the couch with your head hung low, hands clenched tightly in your lap. After a long pause, you add, “But you need to leave. This is your home too, but you have your own life to get back to. I need time... time to figure out how to grieve.” Your eyes don’t lift to meet theirs; you can’t bear to see the disappointment or concern there.

Semi’s voice pipes up again, the innocence piercing through your defenses. “Are you sending us away, Aunty?”

The weight of guilt deepens, pressing into your chest. You close your eyes, feeling the sting behind your lids before you answer. “No, sweetie, I’m not sending you away. You can come whenever you want. Aunty will always be here.” The words come out flat, and you feel them land like lies in the air between you.

Jieun picks Semi up, nodding at you as if she understands, though her eyes glisten with worry. “We’ll give you some space. But we’ll check in. Don’t forget that, please.”

When the door clicks shut, silence wraps around you, heavy and thick. Your gaze shifts to the note you’d prepared earlier, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The words, written in your own hand, feel foreign now: apologies to the people who stayed, memories they never knew you held, and the final confession of a heart too weary to go on.

You were battling with the urge to just end it all.

The rational part of your brain told you that you were young and had your whole life ahead and that you'd meet a lot of guys in your life but the stubborn heart won't give up and held onto the memory of the guy you once called your husband.

So, you gave up.

A smile, then another.

The city glows beneath you, lights sprawled like constellations cast on earth. The wind at this height is sharp, tearing through your clothes and chilling your skin, as if trying to pull you back from the edge. Your shoes scrape against the concrete ledge, the slight tremble in your legs betraying the battle waging within. The night air smells faintly of rain, metallic and crisp, mingling with the faint hum of traffic below.

You steady your phone in your trembling hand, its cold surface grounding you momentarily. A notification pings, an ironic reminder that life continues to tick on, indifferent to the turmoil within you. The camera lens reflects the shimmer of unshed tears as you hit record, the small red dot staring back like a silent witness.

A smile forms—hesitant, broken. Then another, and another, each one a mask that crumbles too soon. “To everyone who still cares,” you begin, your voice low and cracking, “Semi, sweet, innocent Semi. Jieun, always so patient. Jongseong... my husband’s shadow in every way. My sister, my friends, all of you who tried.”

The wind picks up, whipping strands of hair across your face as you pause, the weight of the unsaid pressing on your chest. You blink rapidly, tears slipping free, their warmth stinging against your cold cheeks. “Jake wouldn't want this. I know he'd call me stubborn, weak even.” You let out a hollow laugh, the sound swallowed by the wind. “But he wouldn’t understand how loud it is in the silence he left behind.”

Your heart hammers as you shift your weight, the city seeming to inhale with you, holding its breath in anticipation. The edge of the building digs into the soles of your feet, the space between you and the world below both terrifying and liberating.

“I miss the little moments, Jake,” you whisper, voice breaking as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I miss you making me feel lonely, and now... now I’m lonelier without you.” The ache in your chest is unbearable, a cavernous void that steals your breath.

One last deep breath, air burning through your lungs, and you step forward. The world blurs into a rush of sound and sensation—wind roaring in your ears, your body weightless, suspended in a moment between despair and peace.

And then the fall hits.

Pain surges through you, sharp and overwhelming, before darkness takes over. Around you, the chaos erupts into a cacophony—screams, the frantic pounding of feet, and the sharp cry of ambulance sirens slicing through the night. But these sounds are drifting away, becoming faint murmurs from a world slipping out of reach.

Silence wraps around you, one that made you feel like everything would be okay after this. Maybe, just maybe, peace waits on the other side. In death.

YOU WALK THROUGH THE DENSE, MILKY FOG, EACH REVERBERATING IN AN ECHO THAT NEVER QUITE SETTLES. The air is cool, feather-light, whispering like distant memories. Is this heaven? The question circles in your mind, unspoken. If it is, where is Jake? A quiet laugh escapes your lips, hollow. He couldn’t have done enough wrong to land in hell, you think, the hint of humor biting through your longing. Yet, the anticipation twists your heart—an ache that makes you want to see him so desperately.

You try to call out, “Jake?” but the sound stays trapped in your chest, choked by the thick fog. Another step forward and there’s nothing but endless white, stretching out, swallowing you whole. Your breath catches; suddenly, the air thins, compressing your lungs, squeezing out every ounce of oxygen. You gasp, your hands clawing at the invisible force stealing your breath. It feels like drowning in emptiness.

Then—without warning—everything shifts. White light erupts around you, blinding and all-consuming. You brace for oblivion, muscles tensing for an end you’re sure is near. But instead, there’s a softness beneath you—a mattress that cradles you like an embrace you forgot.

Your eyes snap open, pupils adjusting to the familiar pale ceiling. It’s your ceiling. Your shared room. The bed, the faint scent of Jake’s cologne still lingering in the sheets, as if he just left. You sit up, heart thundering, hands brushing over your body frantically. No pain, no bruises, no broken bones—nothing. You’re whole, intact.

Then the realization hits you like cold water, and your fingers tremble as you pull them away.

“What the…?” you murmur, eyes darting around, seeking answers that the silent room won’t give. Your gaze falls to the phone on the bedside table, its screen blank and mocking in its stillness. You grab it, breath hitching as the time blinks to life.

January 29th, 2024. 6:30 a.m.

A shiver races down your spine. The date stares back at you, sharp and impossible. You set the phone down, legs feeling weak as you stand and approach the mirror. Your reflection isn’t that of a woman who has been weeping endlessly. Your eyes, dry and wide, reflect confusion rather than the storm of emotions that you carry.

“Is this one of those flashes they say you see before death?” Your voice trembles as the words escape, and you reach up to touch the cold glass. The girl looking back at you does the same, fingers meeting yours in a silent plea.

Then, your eyes catch it. The blue gel pen resting on the dresser—a pen that has no place outside your drawer. It’s a small thing, but the sight of it makes your breath hitch. Memories slice through you, sharp and unforgiving. That pen was the one you’d used for the note to Jake, the one that demanded space, an end.

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head, bile rising in your throat. The pen feels like a cruel token, mocking you for what came after. In a swift motion, you snatch it up, the cold plastic biting into your skin as you grip it tight. The weight of your guilt, your regret, turns your stomach, and with a sudden burst of anger, you hurl the pen into the trash, its clatter punctuating the silence like a final plea.

Chest heaving, you close your eyes. If this is some kind of twisted second chance, you don’t know if you should feel terror or relief. But the room, the sheets, the absence on the other side of the bed—everything points to one impossible truth.

You’re back.

But this isn't a romance novel, is it?

Your eyes trail back to the empty bed, where Jake should be. “Jake?” The name falls from your lips, hopeful, trembling, but the silence stretches on, suffocating.

Your heart thuds like a wild drumbeat, erratic and desperate, the rhythm matched only by the single hope that propels you forward: seeing Jake. Alive. Healthy. Breathing.

You practically jog out of the shared bedroom, your bare feet sliding slightly on the hardwood floor as you turn the corner. The guest room door is ajar, a sliver of dim light illuminating the narrow hallway. The pulse in your chest quickens, breaths shallower with each step until you reach the threshold. You pause, drawing in a trembling breath before stepping inside.

There he is. Jake. Lying on his side, dark hair fanned messily over the pillow, the soft rise and fall of his chest hypnotic in its simplicity. Relief washes over you so powerfully that your knees almost buckle. You inch closer, careful not to make a sound. The blanket is snug around his torso, exposing his bare, muscular chest—the way he prefers when he’s alone. Your throat tightens at the sight, familiar yet so foreign now.

Your hand, almost on its own accord, hovers over his face, fingers trembling as you place them under his nose. The soft, warm breath that meets your touch is enough to sting your eyes with unshed tears. Your hand drifts down, resting against his chest, where you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat—a rhythm you thought you’d never sense again.

Jake stirs, the sudden shift pulling you out of your trance. His eyelids flutter open, dark eyes glazed with sleep but sharpening as they land on you. He blinks once, then again, brows drawing together.

“What are you doing?” His voice, rough with sleep, carries a note of confusion that makes your hand fall away as though burned.

“I-I…” The words snag in your throat, scrambling to make sense of the madness. How could you possibly explain? Your eyes dart nervously to the floor, heat searing your cheeks as you mutter, “I missed your kisses.”

The room freezes. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with disbelief. He shifts, sitting up, and the blanket slips down to his waist, revealing the sharp lines of his torso. Your eyes betray you, flickering over the familiar planes before darting away in embarrassment.

“But… we never kiss,” he says, voice low and edged with confusion. The statement slices through you, painfully reminding you of the distance you both had grown used to.

“I know... I...” you whisper, fingers clenching into fists at your sides. The silence stretches, heavy, until the sharp trill of his phone alarm shatters it. Jake’s attention shifts, eyes narrowing as he leans to silence it. When he looks up again, the space where you stood is empty.

You rush back to your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft thud, heart hammering in your chest. Sliding down until you sit with your back pressed against the cool wood, you cover your flushed face with shaking hands. Your pulse thunders in your ears, mixing with the replay of his sleepy voice, the fleeting touch of his warmth.

Is this really the past? The question festers, tugging at the edges of logic, but the ache in your chest and the rawness of your emotions tell you it is. And if so, this year holds one horrifying certainty: Jake’s death.

The mere thought twists something deep inside you, bringing back the soul-crushing grief, the endless nights of regret. You glance down at your wrist, breath catching as your eyes lock on the ink-black date that marks it: November 4th. The day Jake dies.

Frantically, you rub at the skin, as if the stubborn mark will simply smudge away under your touch. But it doesn’t. The date remains, stark and immovable, taunting you.

A shiver crawls up your spine, but then a thought—a glimmer of defiance—roots itself.

What if you change it? What if this was given to you, not as a cruel joke, but a chance to rewrite what went so terribly wrong? To love him in a way you never did and save him from the fate that once tore your entire world apart.

“I can do this,” you whisper, determination threading into your voice. The regret may have once paralyzed you, but now it fuels you. If you only have until that date, then every second will be spent fighting fate, no matter how impossible it seems.

THE SOFT MURMUR OF THE COUPLE’S CONVERSATION DRIFTS DOWN THE STERILE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR, brushing against your ears like a whispered secret. The woman lies propped against crisp white pillows, her leg encased in a cast, eyes fixed on her partner with a blend of exhaustion and comfort. He leans forward, fingers interlaced with hers, voice low and tender.

“Can you please see what's wrong?” he asks, eyes glistening with concern. He gently squeezes her hand, words spilling out as quiet reassurances. “You're doing so well, love. It's going to be okay.”

A tight warmth coils in your chest as you approach, a familiar pang of bittersweetness shadowing the sight. The love, the unwavering devotion-it's moments like these that remind you why you cherish your job. The fragility of life, held together by threads of connection, has always moved you, even when those threads unraveled in your own life.

When you started nursing, blood was your greatest fear, the sight once enough to turn your stomach. Time had softened those edges, transforming anxiety into steady resolve. It was also during those early years when you married Jake, the man whose smile was warm enough to banish shadows but whose presence now only haunted your memories. The marriage had lasted five years before everything shattered with the crash.

No. Stop. The thought rushes at you like a wave, cold and suffocating. You grit your teeth, eyes burning as you push it down, push him down, refusing to let the grief claw at you. He's alive here, in this fragile present you've been thrust into. Don't let the past bleed into now.

“Sure,” you say softly, the practiced smile you wear settling on your face. You reach out, fingers moving gently over the girl's cast, checking the edges, ensuring everything is as it should be. She nods in silent gratitude, eyes fluttering shut with relief as her partner exhales.

The end of your shift arrives with the deep hues of twilight stretching across the sky. The drive home is long, punctuated by the soft rumble of the engine and the anxious thrum of your thoughts. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel, tapping out a nervous rhythm. Avoid home, your mind suggests, listing off a million errands you suddenly think of, any excuse to delay the inevitable.

But the excuses run dry when you're standing in front of your door, keys cold against your palm. The air outside is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you draw a deep breath and hold it. The weight of the morning—Jake's sleepy, questioning eyes and the ghost of your impulsive words-hangs between you and the door.

“Is it too late to back down?” The whisper escapes your lips, trembling in the chilly silence. You picture his expression, the puzzled furrow of his brow as he replayed your words. The way his fingers brushed over his phone, gaze lifted just in time to see you flee. He isn't stupid. Jake never was.

With a sigh, you slip the key into the lock, the click loud and final. The door opens, and warmth spills out to meet you, along with the faint scent of his cologne. Your pulse quickens as you step inside, the hum of your heartbeat louder than the quiet creak of the floor under your weight.

Don't run, you tell yourself, even as the urge coils tight in your muscles. You close the door behind you.

As you push open the front door, the faint glow of the television casts flickering shadows across the living room. There he is-your husband, Jake, reclined on the couch, eyes fixed intently on the news. His brows knit slightly as a montage of suited politicians gestures on screen, their voices droning promises as hollow as a whisper in the wind.

He is basically watching those politicians give some weird and untrue promises for the sake of votes.

How romantic. How normal. The bitter thought twists in your chest. But it isn't. Nothing about this is normal. Why would he be watching the news, of all things? Then, a pang of irony hits you like a wave. How hypocritical, you think. You promised Jake your forever in a ceremony that now feels like an echo. The vows shared between you had been spoken out loud but never truly lived.

You shake the memory away, an old wound you refuse to pick at as you step inside, the floor cool under your feet. Jake doesn't notice you at first, his attention locked on the screen, oblivious to the fact that the person who left him a note asking for space now stands in the doorway, wrestling with the tension roiling inside her.

“Hey,” you finally say, the word falling between you like an anchor. It comes out awkward, unsure, a fragile hope that he won't read too much into it. But Jake's eyes flick to yours, a spark of recognition cooling to something unreadable.

“You're back home?” His voice is measured, neither warm nor cold, but there's a tightness to it that you can't ignore. He shifts, the blue glow of the screen catching the sharp line of his jaw as he waits for your response.

The note. You had slipped it into his hand, asking for a break from a marriage four years deep but hollow. Your heart thuds in your chest, fingers clenched at your side as you speak before fear can pull the words back.

“The note-I take it back. I don't want a break from you or this relationship, Jake.”

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the low hum of the news anchor's voice. His eyes search yours, a hint of disbelief darkening the warm brown you once memorized. “Why?” The question slices through the quiet, clipped and cautious. You almost flinch at the hardness there, a wall built brick by brick in your absence.

“Because I don't want to stay away from you.” Your voice trembles, raw honesty exposed between you like an open wound. Jake's eyes widen slightly, the stoic mask cracking as a flush creeps across his cheeks.

“Y-You're blushing?” The soft, astonished laugh tumbles out of you, a momentary break in the storm that makes you feel like you're standing on the edge of something new. The corners of his mouth twitch, the faintest sign of a smile, but he shakes his head.

“No, I'm not. I'm just... cold,” he mutters, the lie transparent.

“Sure, sir. You're just cold.” You chuckle, sinking onto the floor beside the couch, knees drawn up as you hug them close. The laughter is sharp, almost giddy, the sound foreign in the room that has held so many silences.

Jake watches you, confusion settling into his features, the red on his cheeks fading as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You're acting weird,” he murmurs, the words half swallowed, uncertain.

“How am I acting weird if I'm seeing my husband show some attraction to me, which isn't platonic, for the first time?” The jest slips out, tinged with sincerity, but it brings a hush over both of you. The truth stands stark between you, glaring and painful. For a moment, neither of you speak, each of you weighed down by memories, by the heavy knowledge of what's been lost and what still aches to be found.

But determination flares in your chest, a stubborn warmth. So what if love had been absent before? So what if promises were half-kept and hearts guarded? You could start again. You could relearn how to be two flawed people willing to try. Your gaze meets Jake's, the hope in your eyes unyielding.

Don't let go, you silently plead. Let this be the start of something real.

Jake clears his throat, a subtle attempt to dissolve the tension settling over the living room like a blanket too heavy to lift. His fingers fidget, running nervously over the seam of the couch as he shifts his gaze downward. There you are, still seated on the floor, legs tucked to one side, eyes catching the soft glow from the TV. Cute, he thinks, the word rolling silently through his mind, too heavy with unsaid truths to speak aloud.

“So...” The word escapes him, thin and unfinished, hovering in the air. His eyes flit over your face, searching for a reaction. The awkwardness clings to the silence, but you don't falter.

“So?” you echo, your tone a notch steadier, holding the slight tremor that betrays your effort. You lean forward just slightly, a gesture that feels braver than it is. If courage could rewrite fate, you'd wield it now, not just for yourself, but for him. For Jake, who might not know the sharp edge of reality that's cut you.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing to the side where the blue light paints his profile in soft, wavering lines. “You know... Semi's birthday is next week.” His words stumble, trailing off as if second-guessing their own existence. But you aren't in the dark. You know exactly what this moment leads to.

“Yes, I'd love to go shopping for gifts for her,” you respond, your voice quick and practiced. His eyes widen, caught off guard, the surprise stark against his usual composed expression. The tension in his jaw slackens, and he blinks, unsure if he heard you right.

“Excuse me?” He stares at you, the faint crease between his brows deepening.

“Isn't that what you were about to ask?” You tilt your head slightly, a small smile playing at your lips, testing him. He hesitates, realizing that denial means trouble, but his face softens into a relieved kind of acceptance.

“No, no... of course. You could... accompany me to shop for Semi's birthday presents.” His voice picks up, the uncertainty lifting as he finds the path back to normalcy. He notices your smile widening, the tension slipping just enough to let him breathe.

“Okay then, see you tomorrow, husband.” The word slips from you, unbidden, laced with a warmth that surprises even you as you turn on your heel. You make your way toward the guest room, feet padding softly against the floor. Jake's brows knit again, eyes following your form until you pause, hand on the frame of the doorway.

“Why are you heading to the guest room?” His question is quick, a thread of confusion laced with something else-something vulnerable.

“Because we sleep apart, and I wouldn't want my husband's back to break on that stiff, rough bed. The sheets aren't even comfortable,” you say, voice light but with an edge that dares him to react. You step into the room, but glance over your shoulder with eyes that glimmer, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “Besides, I'd rather you break your back or get tired doing me than struggling on a bed.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide with stunned silence as the door closes between you. Jake sits back, eyes fixed on the now-empty hallway, replaying the moment in disbelief. The wife who barely spoke above a whisper at their wedding, who tiptoed through years of silence, had just turned the tables with a single teasing line. His pulse hammers beneath the stillness.

What on earth just happened?

“ARE YOU TELLING ME Y/N JUST TURNED INTO A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON?” Jay's voice, casual yet curious, echoes through the phone. He's speaking to Jake, who shifts from foot to foot, eyes glancing around the boutique as he waits for you to finish picking out a dress for his niece. The sound of soft music drifts around him, mixing with murmurs of other shoppers.

“Exactly that!” Jake's voice comes out louder than intended, drawing looks from the store's staff. A woman in a sleek uniform, brows raised in disapproval, approaches with a pointed glare.

“Sir, please keep your voice down or refrain from talking altogether,” she says, sternly but professional.

Jake's ears burn as embarrassment blooms across his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Through the phone, Jay's laughter rings clear and unapologetic. “You seriously got told off by staff? Man, you're killing me!” Jay's chuckles fade into a smirk that Jake can practically hear. Jay's the same as he's always been-playful, relentless, the older brother who teases but listens when it counts.

“Fine, fine, I'll stop. Tell me what you mean by Y/N changing, just... keep it PG, will you?” Jay's tone is teasing, but curiosity laces through.

Jake's jaw tightens, eyes scanning the store for you as if your sudden return would put him on the spot. “There's nothing intimate going on between us,” he blurts, the words a knee-jerk reaction. His chest tightens with the memory of you resting your hand on him in your sleep last week, the way warmth had crept through him then. He clears his throat. “I mean, she's talking to me more, being... sweet. She listens. It's almost... submissive.”

“I told you, no bedroom details!” Jay chimes in, sarcasm sharp enough to make Jake's teeth clench.

“THIS IS NOT A BEDROOM DETAIL!!!” Jake retorts, frustration coloring his tone. It earns him another hard look from the store associate across the room, who pointedly glances over her glasses. Jake sighs and mouths an apology again, shoulders drooping as he lowers his voice.

“What I mean is, she's more... attentive. She's not arguing as much. It's like she's listening to me for the first time.”

Jay's voice softens, just a hint of seriousness slipping through. “Isn't that how she always is with others?”

“Yeah, with everyone else. Just not with me,” Jake admits, the admission heavy with a history neither of them mention.

“Interesting.” Jay's reply is contemplative, but before he can say more, Jake's voice interrupts, distorted through the line. “Oh shoot, she's coming back. I'll call you later.”

As the call ends, Jake pockets his phone, glancing up just in time to see you walking back with a smile. Jay, on the other side of the city, sets his phone down, a smirk playing at his lips as he thinks of sharing this tidbit with his wife later. Whatever was happening between his brother and sister-in-law, it was about to get even more intriguing.

On the other side, Jake stands, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face as you hold up a tiny pink dress. It's perfectly frilly, fit for a little girl. But all he can think is how charming it would look in a size for you—a thought that makes him shake his head, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.

“So, what do you think? Should I get this for Semi?” you ask, eyes sparkling with anticipation. There's already a growing collection of clothes for his niece in your arms, a reminder of how you've embraced being part of his family.

“Are you getting all of them?” he asks, more out of shock than judgment. He never imagined children's clothes could come with such hefty price tags.

“Yes, why? Is this too much? I can cover it if—”

Before you can finish, he interrupts, affronted. “I'll pay. It's for my lady, after all.”

The statement hangs in the air, not romantic as he'd intended but awkward, making your brows twitch slightly. You resist the urge to grimace, forcing a polite smile instead.

A staff member, the same one who had shushed Jake earlier, walks over with an unimpressed expression, exchanging a silent, almost comic glare with him. She gave Jake a look that said 'you're weird and I don't want to talk to you'

'what have I ever done to you' was the look that Jake presented back to the staff before she looked away. You glance between them, slightly confused. Then Jake clears his throat, moving the conversation forward.

“Do you have a similar dress in a bigger size?” His voice drops to almost a whisper. He feels self-conscious asking, but the idea has stuck.

The staff member blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?” She tilts her head, uncertain if she heard right.

“Yeah, do you have something like this,” Jake gestures at the dress in your hands, “but, you know, for an adult?” A flush of red creeps across his cheeks as he points to you. The staff member nods after a moment, walking off to search, while you stand there stunned, watching her go.

“Why are you buying something for me? Semi’s dress is already pricey. A woman's size will be—”

“It's just a dress,” he interrupts with a small sigh, eyes softening. “Think of it as a gift.”

“But today isn't anything special.”

“Maybe not. But I'd like to make it special,” he replies, voice lowering. “I haven't given you anything since our wedding. That was four years ago.” His words carry a quiet vulnerability as he looks at you, taller and more serious than you expect. You hold his gaze before shifting and mumbling a reluctant, “Fine,” looking away to hide the way your cheeks warm.

The staff returns holding a similar dress, but in an adult size. It's pink, short, and undeniably cute-something that looks a little too daring for your style.

“Will this do?” she asks.

“Absolutely not,” “hell yeah,” you and Jake say in unison. The staff's eyebrows raise as she turns to you, sensing you as the more level-headed one.

“We're not buying it,” you insist, giving Jake a look.

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Jake, no.”

“Why not?”

“It's too short!” you argue, exasperated. He shrugs, eyes softening as he counters, “It's knee-length. That's normal.”

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes and give in. But you don't try it on in the store; the idea of wearing it in front of him makes your heart thud with a mix of nerves and embarrassment. After all, you've barely even shared a bed in weeks—how could you possibly show him a dress like that now?

JAKE’S HEART STOPS FOR A MOMENT AS HE TAKES IN THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM. You, standing in the baby pink dress that hugs your figure just right, with its soft fabric brushing just above your knees. The playful, shy smile you wear as you twirl slightly sends a wave of warmth through him. He never expected to see you like this; the reality strikes him so suddenly that it leaves him breathless.

The laughter of Semi fills the room as she runs around in her matching pink dress, giggling and pulling you along by the hand. The soft glow of the post-birthday celebration lights casts a golden hue, warming up the atmosphere in the living room. Jake sits on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on his knee as he watches you and Semi, his gaze softening with an emotion he hasn't felt in what seems like ages.

A gentle nudge breaks his trance, and he turns to see his mother looking at him with raised brows and a hopeful gleam. “When are you two going to have kids?” she asks, her voice light but laced with longing.

The air in the room shifts. You pause mid-spin, eyes darting to Jake with a look of surprise. This isn't part of the script of your past life; this question throws you off balance, the sudden attention making your heart race.

Jake's father, seated across with a glass of wine in his hand, lets out a dramatic sigh. “I think I'll be long gone before I see any grandchildren from this one,” he jokes, though the weight behind it is unmistakable. The statement slices through the room's cheerful mood, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Jake's jaw tightens, a subtle tension creeping up his spine. He wants kids too, he really does—but not in a house that feels as unstable as theirs has become.

Before he can respond, you surprise everyone, including yourself. “We're trying,” you say, the words slipping out with practiced ease, even as your pulse pounds. The room freezes, all eyes turning toward you in shock.

Jake's eyebrows lift in silent question, but he plays along, shifting to put on an unreadable expression. He nods, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he covers the uncertainty boiling beneath. The room shifts back into a mixture of excitement and surprise.

“Is that true? You're both trying?” Jake's mother's eyes glisten, her hope rekindled as she looks between you and her son.

“Really?” Jake's father echoes, leaning forward, his earlier sarcasm replaced by genuine interest.

Jay, standing near the fireplace, furrows his brow, lips parting in disbelief. Only last week, Jake had confided in him about how distant and weird things had become between you two.

Jake forces a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... we've been trying for a while.” The lie feels heavy in his mouth, and he shoots you a look that says, Why'd you lie about that?

Your sister-in-law, Jieun, raises her hand, pointing at you with wide eyes. “Since when?” she blurts out, unable to contain her shock.

Jake stutters, “It's been a-a month,” the answer sounding rehearsed yet shaky. He glances at you again, his eyes pleading for an explanation that won't come.

The conversation quickly shifts into an excited buzz, with well-meaning wishes from your in-laws filling the air. You catch Jake's gaze, and despite the tight-lipped smile you give the family, there's a flicker of humor in your eyes. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh.

You both know the truth: the notion of trying for a child is impossibly far from reality.

Heck, it was funny for you to watch.

You were still a virgin. You two didn't even kiss more than once in those four years and they expect a baby to suddenly pop out of you?

And once the party winds down, you find yourself sitting on the couch with Semi by your side. Her wide, curious eyes shine with excitement as she swings her legs back and forth. At just four years old, she's a bundle of endless questions and innocent wonder.

You smile, reaching over to gently ruffle her soft, dark hair. “Does the birthday girl like her dress?” you ask, voice playful.

Semi beams, glancing down at the pink ruffled dress with pride. “It's so pretty,” she chirps, then looks up at you with a thoughtful expression. “But yours is prettier. You always look pretty, Aunty.”

Your heart melts, and you chuckle softly. “Aww, you learned how to give compliments, huh?” you tease, watching as her cheeks turn rosy and she averts her gaze to fiddle with her fingers.

“Aunty!” she whines, wanting you to stop teasing. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in closer and motions for you to do the same. With a curious tilt of your head, you move closer, letting her whisper into your ear. “Will you eat a baby to have a baby?” she asks, voice so serious it makes you freeze for a moment.

You stifle a laugh, your eyes crinkling at the edges. Gently cupping her cheek, you whisper back, “No, sweetie. That's not how it works. But that's grown-up stuff, and we don't talk about it now, do we?”

Semi giggles, her little fingers playing with a toy she received from her grandmother. The sight makes your chest tighten in a bittersweet way. You can almost picture your mother-in-law doting on a future child, fussing over toys and tiny clothes. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, making you shake your head lightly as if to dispel the image.

But a small part of you can't help but smile at the idea, a blush rising to your cheeks. The dream is distant, almost unreachable, and not yet yours to claim.

When you and Jake step out into the cold night, the air nips at your exposed legs below your knees. The dress he had picked out for you, delicate and pastel pink, offers little warmth, and the heels are beginning to pinch with every step. You trail behind him, taking careful, aching strides to avoid twisting your ankle.

Jake notices, stopping suddenly to turn toward you, eyes scanning your shivering frame. “What’s wrong?” His gaze softens as he realizes how exposed you are, legs trembling from the chill. Without hesitating, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth is welcome, but your teeth still chatter as you mutter, “Wish I had something covering my legs instead.”

He exhales, half exasperated, half amused, before a wry smile forms. “Should I carry you like a princess? You’d be warm then.”

Surprised, you bite back a retort, matching his teasing tone with confidence. “Maybe you should.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“Chill, I was just joking,” you mumble, looking down at the ground. But before you know it, he’s stopped again, this time dropping to one knee. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT THE HELL?” you blurt out, stepping back in reflex, heat rising to your cheeks at the unexpected gesture. (more so because you believed he was trying to look up your dress)

Jake looks up, mildly annoyed but patient. “I’m helping you,” he says simply. Before you can argue, he pulls out a pair of slippers from a little carry bag he had brought from home. The realization hits, softening your expression as he glances up. “Lift your leg.”

You comply, feeling foolish for your earlier outburst. He slips the heels off your feet and replaces them with the soft slippers, careful and precise as if proving he has no ulterior motive. The chill in the air suddenly seems less biting.

“You had these the whole time?” you ask, voice softer now, eyes wide with realization. He places the heels into the carry bag, stands up, and meets your gaze with a smirk.

“Yeah. Thought you might need them,” he says, a hint of smugness in his tone. You’re about to thank him when he reminds you with a mock-accusing look, “And you were ready to accuse me of being a pervert.”

The memory makes you feel small, but you muster a sheepish, “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, a touch of amusement in his eyes as the two of you start walking again, your steps now confident and comfortable. His jacket around your shoulders holds a warmth that seems to seep straight to your heart.

“So...” Jake’s voice cuts through the silence, the question you've been dreading finally arriving. “Why did you lie about... us trying for a baby?” His tone is cautious, probing.

You sigh, the answer already clear in your mind. “It was the only way to get them to stop bothering us,” you admit. A pause follows, your gaze flitting up to meet his. You don’t dare to say more, not with your secret burden looming—coming from a future where he is no longer alive and your mission is to keep him safe.

Jake hums in agreement, the tension easing a bit. “I can’t argue with that.” A comfortable silence settles between you, only broken by the sound of your footsteps. He glances at you again and asks, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbles. Relief flashes across his face before he reaches out, taking your hand and leading you forward. The two of you approach a small, tucked-away restaurant, its sign faded but familiar. Jake’s eyes light up. “You have to try the cold coffee from that café across the street,” he points out, the fondness in his voice unmistakable.

You nod, memories flickering back. His odd, endearing preferences were things you never forgot. “Fish curry with plain rice and some shrimp on the side?” you guess, eyes twinkling with recognition.

Jake’s head snaps to you, surprise clear as day. He stares, a laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “Since when did you start memorizing my favorites?”

You had heard about his fav things to eat from your brother in law, Jay. But Jake never said it to you himself so the boy was pretty much stunned when you literally memorised them, as if you were waiting to flex this whole time.

You offer a small, knowing smile. “I have my ways.”

The waiter arrives promptly with your orders, and the rich aroma fills the space between you and Jake. He takes a bite, but pauses, eyes drifting to you with a soft, contemplative expression. “We’ve never done this before…” he murmurs, his tone a mix of realization and gentle amusement.

You tilt your head, savoring a piece of shrimp. “You mean this date?” you ask, half-smiling.

“Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean,” he replies, taking a moment before continuing, as if gathering the courage. “I like it. I like how we are now.” He takes a sip of water, and the way he watches you is tender, raw. His hand slides across the table to rest over yours, fingers warm against your skin.

“I don’t know what changed, but I…” He hesitates, eyes locking with yours, a profound intensity that silences you. “I like how we’re not avoiding each other anymore, how we talk instead of fighting over every little thing.”

The sincerity in his words pierces through you, tugging at memories of a future where his absence left a hollow ache in your chest. The pain you’d carried, the distance, the loss—all of it feels heavy in this moment, but now, something else unfurls within you. An unexpected warmth that swells as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, maybe too many, and that’s why we kept drifting apart in those four years we were married. But I want us to stay like this. Is that too much to ask for?” His voice cracks, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The depth of emotion he shows takes your breath away, and your vision blurs as your own tears spill over. The raw honesty in his confession reaches a part of you that had long been buried under grief and guilt. But this isn’t grief—it’s something different, a warmth that wraps around you and fills the spaces that loss once consumed.

“Jake…” you whisper, voice trembling. He blinks rapidly, tears tracing paths down his cheeks as he tries to manage a laugh, a hand lifting to wipe at his face. “Did I go too overboard?” he chuckles, awkwardly, brushing his fingers over yours, an attempt to ease the intensity.

But you can’t answer with words, your heart too full. Instead, you wipe your own tears away, watching him as he takes a deep breath and resumes eating, eyes still red-rimmed, his emotions raw and vivid between you. The silence that follows is... a little satisfying this time around. Your chest tightens, and you realize this feeling—this unexpected, overwhelming tenderness—is the spark you hadn’t felt in what feels like forever.

The confession... It did something to you. It made you feel things or you believed so.

You reach for his hand, this time without hesitation, and hold on as if anchoring both of you to this moment. A shared glance tells him everything you can’t yet put into words: you’re here, with him, and for now, that’s enough.

AS THE DAYS PASSED FOLLOWING THAT UNEXPECTED DINNER, a subtle shift had occurred between you and Jake. It had been a month since then, and despite your hectic lives—you, a dedicated nurse, and him, an ambitious lawyer—something had changed. You continued to sleep separately, a necessity due to your conflicting schedules. Late nights saw you returning home to find Jake already asleep, and early mornings had him leaving before you awoke. This unspoken arrangement was born out of mutual respect for each other’s rest.

However, the reminder of the future haunted you. The date on your wrist, November 4th, hadn’t faded or smudged. It remained stark and vivid, a grim reminder of the fate you knew awaited Jake, filling you with silent dread.

Despite your busy lives, the dinner at that small restaurant had stirred something unspoken between you. A shared tenderness had taken root, and in the brief pauses between work, you found yourself drawn to those moments that whispered of possibilities—moments that spoke of a bond that hadn’t existed before.

The room feels charged with an unspoken tension as you stand there, watching Jake. The question slips from your lips, “Are we sleeping separately again?” masking the tremble in your voice with an attempt at confidence. Jake’s eyes meet yours, an amused smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want to sleep with me?” he asks, casual yet knowing.

You stammer, trying to find an answer that won’t reveal how vulnerable you feel. “No—yes—but—” The uncertainty in your voice makes him chuckle softly, the sound sending warmth through your chest. The realization of your feelings for him washes over you again, clear and inescapable.

“It’s normal to want to sleep with your husband. Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. His tone is light, yet there’s an edge of tenderness as he turns and walks to the bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, looking back with an expectant eyebrow raise, and you follow.

Inside, the dim light casts soft shadows. The atmosphere feels different tonight, heightened by the realization that, while you’ve shared this space before, this moment feels profoundly intimate. He hesitates for a moment, the usual playful confidence in his manner replaced by a quiet consideration.

Should he lie down first?

Wait for you?

Or speak?

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. We could even put a pillow between us if you prefer,” he says in a rush, trying to ease the tension. But his words leave you both flushed. You respond, flustered yet honest, “No—you can touch me—I mean...”

Jake’s eyes widen, and a surprised silence falls over you both, broken only by your slightly quickened breaths.

Finally, you break it, murmuring, “So... do we sleep?” You wish the dim light hides your expression, but Jake’s shifting on the bed signals that he’s as unsettled as you are. He lies down first, and you follow, settling into the bed with a space that feels simultaneously too close and too distant.

Minutes pass as the darkness deepens around you. You’re aware of every sound, every breath he takes, and the slight rustle of sheets as you both try to find comfort. The knowledge that he’s staying dressed out of respect doesn’t escape you, and neither does the chill that seeps through the room, despite the blanket. It’s enough to make sleep elusive, even as your heart drums with quiet, unspoken hope.

The air feels thick with tension as neither of you can fall asleep, despite the dim light and the shared silence. Jake gently sits up, his voice breaking the stillness. “I’ll get changed into my night clothes—this is uncomfortable. You should get changed too,” he suggests. His words are practical, but they stir a shyness inside you. The thought of wearing shorts around him makes you feel self-conscious, though the blanket and darkness give you some comfort.

With a deep breath, you agree. You grab your oversized top and shorts, retreating to the bathroom to change. When you return, Jake is already asleep, dressed in a soft T-shirt and shorts. His peaceful expression makes a pang of guilt settle in your chest. You feel both relief and unease at the same time, knowing he’s so close yet so far away.

You lie there, tense in the stillness of the night. Jake’s hand lands instinctively on your stomach, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you. You hold your breath, carefully shifting his hand away. Just when you think you're safe, his leg shifts under the blanket, pressing gently between your legs. A rush of heat floods your chest as you gently push his leg away, silently exhaling in relief.

In the quiet, you watch him sleep. His messy hair, a small trail of drool escaping his lips—something inside you stirs. Without thinking, you bring your thumb to wipe away the drool, brushing it lightly against your shirt. You stare at him for a moment, your heart racing in ways you can’t fully understand.

For Jake though,

He wakes to find you so close, your noses nearly touching. A small breath escapes him as he pulls back, but then he notices your body, curled into him—one of your legs and arms wrapped around him, as if clinging to his warmth to escape the cold. You’re nestled so comfortably against his chest, and though a small part of him wants to get up, he finds himself content in the moment.

He stares at you, watching as he slips his fingers through your hair, the quiet intimacy settling around him like a comforting blanket. When you stir, half-awake, he expects you to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you bury yourself further into his chest, and he smiles, a little amused by your unconscious need for closeness.

“Morning... Baby,” he says softly, though he’s hoping you’ll move just enough for him to slip out of bed.

“Morningg,” you murmur, nuzzling his chest. He notices how you don’t seem to mind the nickname, a small sign that you’re still in that dreamy, sleepy state. He wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to disturb you, so he asks, “Can you move a bit, baby?”

You barely stir, your arms and legs still tangled with his. “Too cold,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“I know, baby. I’ll turn the heater on for you, is that good?” he whispers, his voice tender. He’s careful not to wake you fully, knowing you won’t even remember this when you wake up.

An hour later, you wake up alone in the bed, the soft comforter still wrapped around your legs. You stretch and yawn, rubbing your eyes, only to hear the door creak open. Jake stands there, a plate in hand—an omelette and a fruit salad. You blink, unsure if you’re still dreaming, and pinch your cheek, just to make sure this isn’t some figment of your imagination.

“What's that?” you ask, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Breakfast in bed,” Jake says with a playful grin, setting the plate down in front of you.

“For me?” you ask, surprised and touched.

“Who else?” he replies with a shrug, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“Why...?” You blink at him, unsure of why he's being so considerate, so affectionate.

“Why not?” he answers, teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart flutter.

You stare at the food in front of you, but the nerves kick in. “Well, uhm... I haven’t brushed.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, waving off your concerns.

“No, it’s not. It’s gross. I do care about germs,” you argue, a bit embarrassed. Before he can say anything else, you rush off to brush your teeth, feeling a little self-conscious. You quickly freshen up, brushing your teeth with the toothpaste, hoping that’ll help with the lingering awkwardness.

When you return, you take a bite, and the emotion hits you harder than you expect. You don’t quite know why, but the tenderness of his gesture fills you with gratitude, and a soft lump forms in your throat.

“Why?” you ask again, your voice shaky, as you sip some water. The question has been swirling in your mind ever since you saw him standing there, holding that plate.

“Hm?” he hums, genuinely confused, not fully understanding why you're so emotional.

“Why are you being so nice... and romantic?” You wince after speaking, regretting your words, but you can't take them back now.

Jake tilts his head, his smile fading slightly. “Like I said a month ago... I meant those words. I want us to stay like this... And not go back to how it was in those four years.. Are we really that immature to let it happen again? ” The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, and for a moment, you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It's raw, honest, and you feel a knot twist in your chest, not having a reply to his genuine question.

THE DAYS AND MONTHS THAT FOLLOW ARE UNEXPECTEDLY TENDER, filled with moments that remind you of what being husband and wife is meant to feel like. The shared smiles, lingering touches, and quiet mornings are sweeter than they have ever been, and for the first time in a long while, peace seems attainable. Yet, there is an undercurrent that stirs beneath it all—the date that looms, casting a shadow over your contentment.

November 4th.

With the month drawing nearer, your heart starts to tighten with an anxious grip. Paranoia seeps into the quiet moments, the fear of what November 4th could mean—what it has meant in the past—makes the days feel more fragile. Your mind races, replaying scenarios and doubts that you can’t shake off. Each sweet gesture, each kind word from him, is tinged with the knowledge that the date approaches, threatening to unravel everything you’ve rebuilt.

Jake’s expression is heavy with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes hinting at the long day he’s had. You offer, “I’ll heat up the dinner,” and turn toward the kitchen, but he stops you with a gentle grasp around your wrist. Before you can react, he pulls you back, pressing you against the wall. The soft strains of a romantic song drift from the living room, creating an intimate, almost fragile atmosphere.

He’s close—closer than usual—and you feel the warmth radiating from his body as well as the subtle scent of his cologne. The proximity sends your pulse racing.

“Jake?” you say softly, confusion lacing your voice as you look up at him. His face is unreadable, the dim lighting casting a shadow over the tired lines of his features. His eyes meet yours, carrying an unspoken emotion.

“Mm?” he murmurs, his voice hushed, as if not to disturb the moment. His hands find their way around you, holding you securely against him, and he leans his chin on your head. The gesture feels protective, desperate even.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your words barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re seeking clarification or reassurance. His embrace tightens for a moment, and you feel his chest rise and fall against yours as he takes a deep breath.

“Can you stop calling me Jake?” he says quietly, the request landing softly, yet weighted.

Surprise flashes through you. “What do you want me to call you?” you ask, voice muffled against his shirt. The question feels vulnerable, as if shifting something fundamental between you both.

“I don’t know... something like... baby, darling, honey... or anything,” he admits, a subtle flush spreading across his cheeks despite the solemn tone. You catch the shy dip of his eyes, and a faint smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re being quite demanding,” you tease, looking up into his face. His lips part slightly as he considers your words.

“This isn’t being demanding,” he counters, pausing just long enough for the silence to underline his meaning. His eyes search yours, raw and full of an unnamed plea. “I just want to spend my last months with you, thinking we’re just... normal. Like any other couple.”

His words sink in, bringing with them an ache that spreads through your chest. The silence that follows is heavy, laced with all the things unsaid and the truth that’s pressing in on both of you. You lift a hand, letting your fingers brush the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes soften, dark lashes casting shadows against his skin as he watches you.

There’s something fragile in this moment, a bittersweet understanding passing between you that makes your throat tighten. The future looms, uncertain and unkind, but for now, you’re here, held close, suspended in the tender present.

Jake’s voice lowers, a tremor in its depths that betrays the weight of his words. “You might not believe me, but... I come from a reality where I’m dead. So, I hope we can at least be nice to each other in my last moments. Can you do that?”

A stunned silence follows, your breath catching in your throat as his confession hangs in the air. You believe him; how could you not when you come from the same reality? Eyes widening, you step back, raising your wrist to show the dark, unerasable mark: November 4th. The ink-like number seems to pulse, a constant reminder of a fate that binds you both.

Jake’s eyes mirror your shock. He releases you, just enough to reveal his own wrist. There it is, the same haunting date. The mark seems alive, almost mocking, as if counting down with every heartbeat.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, the silence heavy with shared grief and realization. The next second, you’re in his arms again, your face buried in his chest as he pulls you close, his own face pressed into your hair. The world around you blurs, reduced to the rapid thumping of your heart and the warmth of his embrace.

“I... please don’t... leave me this time,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your fear. The memory of finding him lifeless in the world you came from, the coldness of that reality, rushes back with a cruel force.

“I will try,” he whispers, his voice barely steady as he runs a hand down your back in a soothing gesture. “We changed the relationship, right? So maybe... just maybe, we can avoid death too.”

You both stand there, unmoving as the moment stretches out. It feels absurd, two souls transported from a fractured future, now clinging to each other in the present in a fragile hope. Yet the thought of letting go is unbearable, so you don’t. For now, the reality of the present is enough.

JAKE’S FINGERS TREMBLE SLIGHTLY AS HE HOLDS OUT THE SMALL BOX, A HINT OF NERVOUSNESS CREASING HIS BROW. “This is for you.” His voice is softer than usual, his eyes searching yours for a response. The box is familiar, a relic from the present you left behind, steeped in memories. Inside is the ancestral ring, one that Jake’s mother entrusted to you after his death—a token that held more value than any wedding ring could.

“I wasn’t... couldn’t give it to you before, but now... I’d like you to have it.” His voice is almost a whisper as he takes your hand, slipping the cool metal onto your finger. His touch lingers, warm and careful, as if anchoring the moment between you.

You look down at the ring, its delicate design catching the dim light and glistening softly. The weight of it brings back a rush of memories that mix grief with an unexpected warmth. Meeting his gaze, you let a small, genuine smile curve your lips. “Thank you. After you… I mean, after your death, your mother gave it to me,” you say, voice thick with the past, “but I’m glad it’s you giving it to me now.”

The way his eyes widen before softening speaks volumes—acceptance, regret, and hope, all blending seamlessly as he draws you closer.

Jake’s expression shifts, a soft smile forming as he leans in, his body pressing yours gently against the bedroom wall. His breath mingles with yours, warm and scented faintly with his cologne. His eyes trace your features, holding a glimmer of something tender and fragile. You raise a brow in playful defiance, a silent challenge, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips. Without another word, he cups your face, his thumb grazing your cheek, and leans in until the space between you disappears.

The first touch of his lips is tentative, testing. A shiver races down your spine as his mouth moves with a gentleness that makes your heart stutter. Your eyes flutter open for a second, catching the serene expression on his face before closing again as you respond, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to reality.

When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing in short, uneven gasps. The room is silent except for the soft crackle of a song playing somewhere in the background. Jake’s eyes open, and in them, you see a question—a hesitation laced with anticipation. “Do you want to go further?” His voice, barely above a whisper, holds a vulnerability that makes your pulse quicken.

You exhale softly, a hint of a smile teasing your lips as you match his boldness. “How far can you go?” The playful edge in your voice makes him chuckle, low and breathy.

“As far as you want to go.” The words are a promise, and before you can respond, his lips capture yours again, more confident this time, as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, gently sliding it off of your shoulders.

THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PASS IN A COMFORTING CALM, the bond between you and Jake strengthening with each passing day. You're no longer weighed down by the regret of the past, but instead, you focus on cherishing the present. Yet, there's still a lingering unease.

Jake driving the car is something that continues to gnaw at you. It's not just a simple fear; it's the haunting memory of the future you came from, where that very action led to his tragic end. As November nears, the pressure builds. You look at the date on your wrist—November 4th—and the thought of losing him again, of it becoming reality, is too much to bear. Your chest tightens, and you feel a mix of helplessness and dread, hoping with every fiber of your being that this time, things will be different.

Jake offers a reassuring smile, the kind that tries to mask his own unease as he softly says, “Chill, I’ll be back in an hour, alright?” His hand moves up to gently smooth your hair, eyes soft with understanding as he takes in the worry etched across your face. You cling tighter to his arm, voice trembling as you ask, “Is it important?”

He nods, and the hopeful part of you crumbles. The instinct to keep him close, to refuse, is almost overwhelming. But before you can protest, he leans forward, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. His hands slip down to rest on your shoulders as he looks at you earnestly.

“I promise I’ll be back. Now, will my pretty wife give me a smile so I can come back even sooner?” The playful plea tugs at your lips, and despite the fear swirling inside, you manage a small, forced smile. He chuckles softly, ruffling your hair before turning to leave.

You trail behind him to the door, eyes glued to the taillights of his car as they fade down the street. The ache in your chest sharpens, and you glance down at the ancestral ring on your finger, tracing its smooth surface as if the touch alone could make your wish come true: Please, come back safely.

The minutes stretch painfully long, and every ten minutes, you can’t resist sending a text, the same anxious message: “If you’re okay, just send a heart emoji.” True to his word, Jake replies with a heart every time—until the fifty-minute mark.

The silence is deafening. Your heart thunders as you stare at your phone, willing the screen to light up. Nothing. The dread coils tighter, stealing the air from your lungs. You take a shaky breath, but it barely settles you. Panic sets in, and you hit the call button. The phone doesn’t connect; the ring tone never plays. Your chest tightens.

In desperation, you call Jay, your brother-in-law. His voice is laced with confusion as he picks up. “Jay, is Jake with you?” The silence that follows your frantic question only amplifies your fear. “No, why? What’s going on?” he asks, suddenly serious. Before you can answer, he cuts the call, sensing the urgency and attempting to help in any way he can.

The next hour drags like an eternity, your anxiety swallowing every rational thought. You pace the room, eyes darting to the clock, phone clenched in your shaking hand. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, you hear the distant purr of an engine. Your pulse stutters as Jake’s car comes into view, whole and unharmed.

But you don’t relax. Not until you see him. The door swings open, and there he is, frustration etched into his features as he steps inside. Your breath catches, relief and anger colliding within you.

Jake's expression softens as he speaks, keeping his voice low despite the frustration. “Why’d you call Jay over something like this? My phone died while I was working. I charged it and got caught up in the case. It’s embarrassing.”

Your eyes well up, the weight of worry turning to a sting of hurt. “So? It’s not important?” Your voice wavers, raw with emotion. “I was terrified, Jake! I didn’t want to lose you again. Sorry for being the clingy wife you’re ashamed of.”

Turning to leave, you barely make a step before he’s there, blocking your path. His eyes search yours, but instead of a defensive remark, he pulls you close, enveloping you in an embrace that tells you more than words could. His arms tighten, anchoring you to him as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s strange, but I promise I won’t say that again, okay?”

His breath is warm against your hair as he leans his cheek on your head, his heartbeat steady against your own erratic one. Despite the tension, you sense his understanding, a silent acknowledgment of your fear. He’s learning to hold your worry without judgment.

“I was so scared, Jake. I thought I’d lose you all over again.” Your voice cracks, and he feels the tremor in your body. He wants to say the right thing, anything to soothe the tremble in your words, but all he can do is hold you tighter.

Both of you are haunted by that date imprinted on your wrists, “November 4th.” A reminder that looms like an uninvited shadow, a constant whisper of what could happen.

THE DAY ARRIVES, a heavy silence filling the air between you and Jake. His promise lingers like a protective shield around you both: he won’t drive, he won’t leave. His presence is a balm for the fear that pulses in your chest. As the two of you snuggle on the couch, the soft glow of the TV playing a rom-com, you turn to him with a worried look, your voice low and unsure.

“What if something bad happens while we’re in the house?” you whisper, nuzzling into his warmth. The thought of losing him, of the world continuing without him, feels unbearable.

Jake shifts, his arm wrapping tighter around you as he looks down at you, his breath warm against your neck. “Nothing will happen. And if it does, I’ll protect you,” he assures, his tone strong and sure, though his own heart is heavy. He knows how much your fear weighs on you, and he wants to shoulder it for you.

But the thought of you living without him—he can’t imagine it. He brushes your hair from your face gently, his voice a soft promise. “I love you too much for that.” His words come out naturally, like it’s something he’s been holding back but feels right now to say. It’s the first time you hear him say it, and the weight of those words floods your heart with warmth, knowing this is real.

“I get it. I won’t put my life at risk,” he murmurs, though there’s a quiet uncertainty in his words, an unspoken truth that he would never let anything harm you—even at the cost of his own safety.

You glance up at him, your lips pressing together in a worried frown. “You better not,” you mumble, not able to let go of the fear completely. You’ve spent the whole day together, in the safety of your home, trying to ignore the impending dread that the date will pass and nothing will change. Watching TV, cooking together, each small moment a reminder of how much he means to you—and how fragile life can be.

You curl up closer to him, as if physically wrapping yourself around him can keep him safe. Your eyes glance at the clock, the seconds ticking by too slowly. Every moment spent together now feels like a treasure, and you want to hold on to it forever.

The two of you lie in bed, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a gentle warmth over your forms. His hand rests tenderly over yours, fingers interlocking. He watches you as you sleep, your face relaxed, peaceful. A quiet whisper escapes his lips: “I love you.” His eyes linger on your peaceful expression, your other arm still clinging to him as if you’re unwilling to let go even in sleep.

He leans over to turn off the lamp, and then his gaze falls to his wrist—where the date once was. It’s gone. A wave of disbelief washes over him. The tension that has gripped him for so long begins to melt away. Perhaps it wasn’t an omen after all, but a reminder that after November 4th, a new chapter awaited them both.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your wrist to find the same thing: no date. Relief floods him, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you even closer into his arms, savoring the moment.

But he knows, as much as this moment feels like a new beginning, there will still be challenges ahead. The fear you carry about him driving is not something that will fade overnight. Your worry, rooted in a past he knows you can’t shake, will take time to heal. But for now, he holds you close, understanding, and promises silently that he’ll be patient, allowing you to find peace in your own time.

TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE FATEFUL DATE, and though life has taken you and Jake through different stages, there’s an undeniable warmth between the two of you. Sitting at the family dinner table, surrounded by loved ones, the air is filled with laughter, conversation, and the quiet hum of joy.

Semi, now a cheerful five-year-old, eats her meal quietly, occasionally looking up with shy glances.

You glance over at Jake, noticing him take a deep breath as he prepares to speak, his hand resting on the table near yours. It’s clear he’s nervous, even though it’s just family. He clears his throat, the words finally tumbling out: “So… We’re having a baby.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Jake’s father scoffs, not giving him an ounce of reaction, while his mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you can fool us one time, not twice,” she says, clearly referencing the last family dinner, where you had tried to casually mention trying for a baby, only for him to play along. He felt the blame was entirely on him, but you knew the truth—it was a team effort.

You chuckle softly to yourself, leaning into Jake’s side, your heart fluttering at the thought of a new life, a new chapter. He meets your gaze, his lips curving into a small smile, even amidst the teasing.

This moment, while filled with playful mockery, marks something deeper. You’re finally here together, stronger and more united than ever before. And this new adventure? It’s the start of a new journey that no one can take from you.

"Really, Y/n’s pregnant. We're having a baby," Jake says, his voice laced with excitement. His mother, skeptical, eyes you closely. "Is that true?"

Without waiting for Jake’s confirmation, you nod, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours beneath the table, his touch calming your nerves.

"I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if this is fake," his dad grumbles, irritation mixing with a hint of hope.

Jay, barely containing his amusement at the scene, watches the family react, while Jake proudly pulls out the ultrasound pictures, revealing the truth. His parents take turns looking at the images, jaws dropping in surprise. Jay, knowing already, can’t help but chuckle.

"Father was starting to question your masculinity. Glad you proved him wrong," Jay teases, earning a gentle nudge from Jieun, urging him to keep it light.

"Wait... So there’s a grandkid on the way?" Jake’s mother recovers first, grinning with hopeful excitement. Jake nods, and your heart swells at the thought of everything that's to come. This moment, this family, it feels like the beginning of something truly special.

Jake’s mother leans forward, still processing, but the excitement is slowly bubbling up. “A grandchild? Really? My little boy having a little one? I’m going to spoil that baby so much.”

Jake chuckles, glancing at you. “Well, you already spoil Semi enough, so I guess it’s fair.”

“Hey, I’m a great grandma-in-training,” she quips, giving Semi an affectionate pat. “But if you two need any advice, I’m here.”

Your heart swells seeing the warmth in her eyes. But then, Jake’s dad, clearly trying to keep his cool, mutters, “I’ll believe it when I see a baby in my arms.”

“You’ll see him,” Jake says, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Or her, right, Y/n?”

You smile, feeling the weight of the moment. “Definitely,” you whisper, feeling a rush of emotion.

Jay, still grinning, can’t help but poke at his younger brother. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You two gonna have one of those perfect Pinterest-worthy baby showers or just skip the whole thing?”

Jieun smacks his arm lightly. “Don’t make them nervous, Jay. Let them enjoy the moment.”

Jake laughs, looking over at you with that same loving gaze. “Honestly, I think we just need to take it one step at a time. But yeah, we’ll get there.”

“You know, when you have a baby, you’ll see just how much you need each other,” his dad says more seriously now, a rare moment of wisdom breaking through his tough exterior. “It’s not just about being a parent, it’s about being there for each other even more.”

Jake nods, his hand tightening around yours as if to say, “I’ve got you, always.”

The whole family seems to settle into a comfortable silence after that, everyone soaking in the news in their own way, but all of them sharing the same unspoken bond.

“Guess we’ll need one more chair for next time,” Jay jokes, breaking the silence, and everyone bursts out laughing.

You glance at Jake, his eyes full of joy, and your heart feels fuller than it ever has. There’s something about being surrounded by family—being with him—that feels right. “Yeah, we’ll need one more chair,” Jake agrees softly, his gaze drifting to the future, to the family that’s just beginning.

In the end, you and Jake had proven the vows true—til death do us part. Through all the challenges, fears, and moments of doubt, you had always found your way back to each other. The promises made, the trust built, and the love that had endured everything now stood as a testament to what you had together. With every touch, every shared laugh, and every quiet moment, you knew that no matter what, your hearts were bound—for life—and beyond.

931 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 1 year ago

Text

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

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birdiewriteslit · 1 year ago

Note

Omg I love Persassy LOL. I was thinking maybe you could do an imagine where Percy knows about Luke and Reader but doesn’t like it and sasses them all the time but so basically Luke and Reader are kind of having a “date night” but in Luke’s cabin and they’re just like laying in his bed and stuff but the morning after, Percy is wondering the Reader is because the Reader is his half sister and like he goes the Luke’s cabin to ask him where Reader is and he finds them asleep in the same bed and he gets mad and sassy and starts lecturing Reader and Luke while they’re all confused because they just woke up🤣🤣

omg yes i can totally do this

luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: persassy (do i even have to say it?), fluff, general show plot ignorance

Percy was staring at you with an unpleasant look on his face as you stole glances at Luke from the Poseidon table.

“Can you not do that in front of my dinner?”

Luke met your eyes from across the room. He grinned at you and you smiled dreamily back at him. “Do what?”

“Ogle him,” Percy said as though it was obvious.

You snapped your gaze to Percy’s. “I’m not ogling him.”

“You so are. Please refrain,” he persisted.

“How about you refrain from having an attitude?” you countered.

“This attitude is your fault,” he sassed, flicking a pea at you.

You caught it before as it rolled off the table and flung it back at his face. He flinched as it hit him and it fell on the floor. “You’re impossible.”

Percy shrugged. “You love me.”

You didn’t say anything. You would be lying if you denied it. Percy seemed to understand anyway, as he held back from sharing any thoughts about Luke for the rest of the meal.

If there was one thing you knew about your half-brother, it was that he was a little menace. He was always telling off your boyfriend for random things. These things mostly consisted of Luke’s actions in hypothetical situations Percy had made up.

He was also always telling you that you were too good for Luke. You were sure he would say that about any guy you dated though, because Luke was probably the best guy around.

He was always nice to Percy, and he easily combatted his sass, which you honestly thought Percy secretly enjoyed.

Deep down, you knew Percy actually liked Luke and looked up to him a lot, not that he would ever admit it.

After campfire that night, Luke was at your cabin, swinging the door open and calling your name.

“What do you want?” Percy responded rudely.

“Take a guess,” Luke said, unbothered.

“Percy, watch your attitude,” you said, walking toward the door and giving Luke a quick kiss.

“Bleh. Stop being nasty in here,” Percy objected.

“Lucky for you, we’re leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer him and let the door swing shut behind you as you left the cabin.

“Y/n?” he called from inside.

Luke held your hand as you walked together to his cabin. Some of his siblings were asleep when you entered, and some of them let out a few teasing comments, but all of them were used to you sleeping there every once in a while.

“Lights out,” Luke said, flipping the light switch. A few campers groaned in protest before collapsing onto their beds.

You climbed into Luke’s bunk after him and he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. You relaxed into his touch, falling asleep quickly.

The next morning you were not awoken by the sun, but by your brother. “Well, well, well,” he said, standing over the bunk with his arms folded.

“Perce?” you said, sleep evident in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in the cabin when I woke up, so I used my critical thinking skills, and here we are,” he explained.

Luke stirred next to you, taking his hand off of your hip to rub his eyes. “Baby? Has the conch blown yet?”

“Yeah, thirty minutes ago. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. How irresponsible,” Percy scoffed.

“Next time, we’ll sleep in our cabin, so you can wake us up at the right time,” you suggested.

Percy scrunched up his face in disgust. “Absolutely not. I don’t need to hear whatever weird stuff you freaks get up to. I need my beauty sleep, but you probably wouldn’t understand that, Luke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, offended.

“Hurry up and get dressed. I hate sitting alone,” Percy demanded and left you and Luke alone in the cabin again.

You turned back into his warmth, refusing to get out of bed. Luke got the message, pulling the blanket up over you. Percy could survive one day without you at the table.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo disney+#pjo tv show #pjo series #daughter of poseidon

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w2soneshots · 2 months ago

Text

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

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koolades-world · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I hope your having a great day! I saw that requests are open briefly so I have one:

Reactions to Luke calling MC "Mom" and MC just rolling with it before they both realize what he said

Like MC helps him with something and Luke says something like "Thanks Mom!" And MC's like "Sure thing, Sweetie" before they're both like 0_0

hi!!!!! this is soooo cute omg! i love how your requests have all been luke centric. love that little guy, he deserves more attention

was unsure what characters you wanted done, so i decided to do the brothers. since it's you, if you'd like the other characters done too, just leave a comment or send a message letting me know, and i'll have it done by sunday :)

The brothers react to Luke calling Mc "Mom"

Lucifer

his heart isn’t made out of stone, so now, luke has a newer nickname bestowed to him by lucifer himself

“son”

it’s simple but it really gets to him. luke isn’t sure if chihuahua or son is worse

he tried getting lucifer back by calling him dad but it didn’t really work the way he wanted it to. it most definitely backfired on him and now he keeps accidentally saying it

Mammon

is now expecting luke to call him dad /hj lowkey mad that lucifer got the privilege first

mammon has always said he and luke have the same eyes... if he is your son, then he is now luke's father. he is ready to accept this position LOL

while you and luke are stewing in the awkwardness, of course he walks in and bluntly asks what happened

and that day marked his journey into fatherhood haha

Levi

he’s not very subtle about hiding his amusement

luke’s loud protesting only made him laugh harder

now when around luke he may or may not randomly burst out laughing because he remembered that moment

way to rub salt in the wound levi haha

Satan

he was there when it happened actually, because the three of you were doing homework together

he actually thought it was so cute, but tried to hide it because he knew luke would be embarrassed

he knew how he would feel if he accidentally called lucifer dad so he wouldn’t want to add insult to injury

luke is very grateful for how he responded :)

Asmo

he’s for sure giggling like a mad man about it

despite the fact that luke is bright red and you looked half overjoyed half sentimental, he snaps a photo for the memories

will look at it in two days and awe over it nostalgically like it happened years ago

seemingly, every time luke tries to delete this photo, it pops up in his life mysterious again. most recently, he found a printed out version at the bottom of his bowl of soup at dinner

Beel

he thinks it was really quite cute

to him, it’s so endearing that the two of you have such a close relationship. he values family more than anything else so he’s glad the two of you have a little found family

the devildom isn’t exactly welcoming after all

he doesn’t rub it in, but he holds that memory near and dear to his heart <3

Belphie

he is NEVER letting luke live this down

and I mean never

whenever he’s talking to luke about you, he’ll call you his mom instead of mc

“hey luke, your mom told me to bring this tupperware back to you from the cookies you sent over yesterday” “THAT WAS ONE TIME”

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me luke #fem reader #headcanons

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starlightkun · 4 days ago

Text

❧ word count: 17.6k ❧ genre: fluff, a sprinkle of angst & hurt/comfort, paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung, established relationship, sequel to pur autre vie ❧ warnings: mentions of death, prominent side character dies prior to the beginning of the fic, depictions of grieving, more family tension/drama (yeah those assholes are back lol) ❧ extra info: this is the sequel to pur autre vie, it cannot be read as a standalone. you must read pur autre vie first! ❧ author’s note: oops i once again fell in love with a couple and cannot let them go! so here’s a sequel! i meant to post this a lot closer to the original but ended up getting stuck on some scenes and took breaks to write some other things, but it’s finally here and i rlly like how it turned out!!

“The house,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Do you want it?”

“Like, Hyukjun’s house? The one that you just got?” You clarified. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have the money to buy a house.”

“No, no, you can have it,” he sounded and looked absolutely defeated.

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. “What’s wrong with it?”

Your stepbrother’s face screwed up as if he just ate a lemon; he clearly didn’t want to tell you the reason. “All the renters said it’s haunted,” he finally blurted out.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, looking around the coffee shop that you were at. Your eldest stepbrother had asked to meet with you, and you couldn’t imagine that it was anything good—certainly not just to get coffee and catch up. You hadn’t ordered anything, wanting to be able to make a quick escape if needed.

Seohyuk usually didn’t request a meeting with you. If he wanted to talk to you, he typically called to tell you he was going to stop by on his way to or from work, or just dropped by unannounced. That’s why you were extra on edge. You had arrived early, and kept checking the time every two minutes or so.

Finally, you saw him walking in, and thankfully he was alone, not accompanied by either of his younger brothers or his mother. Seohyuk was much easier to handle on his own. You made eye contact with him, but didn’t wave or make any move to stand up and greet him as he arrived at your table. He sat down across from you, looking rather disheveled. His hair was unkempt as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day and hadn’t looked in a mirror to fix it, his tie was loose and askew, his dress shirt crumpled, and his suit jacket that you knew he typically wore to work was missing entirely. He was also pink-cheeked and seemed to be trying to hide how heavily he was breathing, as if he had run here and didn’t want you to know.

“Good afternoon, Seohyuk,” you said politely, opting not to comment on his appearance.

He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Y/N.”

“Do you have a concern with the house? Or is this a question about possessions?” You decided to just be direct. Those were pretty much the only two things he ever contacted you about.

When your mother passed away six months ago and you moved out of her and Hyukjun’s house, the property had gone to your three stepbrothers. Which meant that your life since then had been a seemingly endless string of inquiries over you “damaging” the home while you had lived there, or you “stealing” stuff that was “rightfully” theirs when you moved out—i.e., items that were actually your mother’s, but they tried to claim were Hyukjun’s.

“The house,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Do you want it?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise, your carefully neutral expression falling right off your face. “Wait, what?”

“Do you want the house?”

“Like, Hyukjun’s house? The one that you just got?” You clarified. “You’re... trying to sell it to me? I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have the money to buy a house.”

“No, no, you can have it,” he sounded and looked absolutely defeated.

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. “What’s wrong with it? What could you have done to it in six months?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” He pleaded. “It’s pretty much the same, we actually fixed up some of the wiring, stuff like that. We’ve tried to rent it out, but nobody will stay.”

“You can’t keep your renters?”

“We’ve had four different tenants, none of them lasted longer than a month.”

“What? Why? It’s a great house.”

Seohyuk’s face screwed up as if he just ate a lemon; he clearly didn’t want to tell you the reason.

“Come on, I already know somebody died in the house,” you scoffed. “What is it?”

“They all said it’s haunted,” he finally blurted out. “And I mean, you know it’s an old house, it creaks and stuff sometimes—I tried to tell them that. They said the lights would flicker, so we replaced the bulbs. Cold spots—We had a guy look at the A/C, he said it was fine. Then it was things disappearing from one room and reappearing in another room, and they swore nobody who lived there moved them. One couple said they started on a jigsaw puzzle before they went to bed and when they woke up, it was all put together.”

You slowly nodded, very carefully controlling your facial expressions as you tried to figure out what reaction you should be having to this. Skepticism? Curiosity? Unease?

“All of your tenants said stuff like that happened?” You clarified.

“Every single one,” he confirmed. “And it got worse with each new one. The first one moved out after a month. The second, two weeks. Third, a week. The last one only lasted three days.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest. “And why do you think I would want to live there?”

“I’m not a superstitious man whatsoever,” he adjusted his tie a bit, “but after all this, I went to the house myself to see what was going on.”

“What, did you bring a Ouija board or something?” You joked, sitting back in your chair.

“I felt ridiculous bringing it in, but yes.”

You knew you were giving him the most incredulous look ever, but he went on with his story anyway.

“I sat down with the board in the living room and asked if there was a spirit in the home. Something cold touched my hands, then the pointer moved to yes.”

“Planchette.”

“Hm?”

“It’s called a planchette,” you corrected him dryly.

“Right.”

“So what happened next?”

Seohyuk continued, “I asked if it was your mother first. I figured that was most reasonable, since she had just…”

“Passed away in the house right before all this started happening?” You filled in for him.

“Yes. But the… planchette moved to no. So then I asked if it was my dad. Again, no.”

“I still don’t see how this leads to me taking the possibly haunted house back from you,” you reminded him, desperately suppressing your giddiness.

“Look, I asked if it was an evil spirit, and it said no.”

“Why would an evil spirit tell you it was evil?”

“It hasn’t hurt anybody, or damaged anything, or done anything bad at all!” Seohyuk was practically begging now. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it: you lived there for two years while you took care of your mom, and nothing like this happened that whole time, right?”

“No, I can’t say anything like this happened,” you tepidly agreed.

“The spirit must have been there the whole time you were there, and it only started doing this stuff once you left. I think if you go back, it should… calm down.”

You let silence hang in the air for a few moments, holding his eye contact, admittedly enjoying seeing him squirm under your gaze as he seemed to realize how crazy all of that sounded. Finally, you sighed, “I don’t know, Seohyuk, my new place is closer to my job…”

“I will pay you to take it at this point. We can’t rent it, or sell it, this has become an absolute nightmare.” He clasped his hands in front of him, quite literally begging now.

“And you’ll stop harassing me about our parents’ possessions?”

“Yes, yes.”

You pretended to contemplate this again, despite your mind being made up from the very beginning. After another agonizingly long bout of silence, you asked, “How much?”

When your mom was first put on hospice over a year ago now, you had started preparing to leave hers and Hyukjun’s house—and trying anything and everything to bring Jisung with you. You knew that once she passed, your stepbrothers wouldn’t give you much time to get out, so you had to make all your preparations long before then so you could vacate at the drop of a hat. Packing, cleaning, deciding what of your mother’s you were going to keep and what you would be donating, figuring out how to move your ghost boyfriend from one parcel of land to your new apartment.

First you’d tried taking all of the original kitchen cabinet knobs with you, but after fourteen hours, he still blipped back to the house. When a contractor was over doing some repairs, you pocketed a chunk of brick and tried that—six hours. A piece of the foundation—ten hours. Cabinet knobs, brick, and foundation—that was the longest, a full twenty-four hours; you had an overnight errand to run for your mother and tried it then.

You eventually branched out in your search for a way to move Jisung, checking out all sorts of books from the library and staying up late reading blog posts. But no matter what sort of herbs, metals, crystals, or recitation you tried, you could never beat time—he was always eventually, frustratingly, pulled back to the house.

And now here you were, in front of the house again. The flowers had seen better days, looking a little sad as you stopped to inspect their wilting petals and sandy dirt around them. You frowned to yourself, putting that near the top of your mental to-do list. The windows of the two-story townhouse were dark, and the porch swing looked like it had been sanded and re-stained along with the rest of the porch.

Turning the key in the lock of the front door, you heard the familiar click of the mechanism and wrapped your hand around the door handle. You pushed it open, slightly disappointed when you didn’t hear the usual creak of the hinges—they must have been oiled since you left. The house was quiet and dim, and you shut the door behind you.

Looking around expectantly, you called out into the seemingly empty home, “Jisung? Come on, I know it’s you—Ah!”

A weight suddenly crashing into you from the solid wall on your left cut you off, and you immediately recognized the cold arms wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” Jisung murmured under his breath, almost as if he didn’t believe it. “Y/N…”

“Jisung.” You squeezed him back, burying your face in his neck. “Oh, I’m back, Jisung.”

“You’re really-You’re really here?” He pulled back to hold your face with two hands. Jisung was just like you remembered, dark hair, dark eyes, his black cardigan and white shirt, and you were sure if you looked down, he’d have the same black pants and shoes as well.

You nodded, jangling the keys in your hand. “The house is mine. For good this time.”

“You didn’t—” His face looked both pained and touched. “How much did they charge you?”

“They paid me,” you informed him with a laugh. “Turns out it’s really hard to sell a haunted house around here.”

Jisung’s eyes widened as a plainly guilty look overtook his face, and his voice had poorly feigned obliviousness in it. “A… whaaat…? Pfft…”

“Since when have you been such a paranormal menace, Park Jisung?” You shook your head at him but couldn’t keep the amusement out of your tone. “Really, finishing people’s puzzles while they’re asleep, moving stuff around—Were you trying to make them move out?”

“I didn’t like any of them.” He crossed his arms. “The first ones fought every day and were just a bother, the second ones just worked all the time and when they were home all they talked about was their boring jobs, the third ones were just boring, and the fourth one—”

“—Was here for three days, how could you possibly have known if you liked them or not?”

“I knew,” he insisted. “He stepped on one of the flowerbeds when he was bringing in boxes and didn’t even care!”

“You actually did a Ouija board with Seohyuk?”

“I wasn’t going to, but I figured maybe I could get him to pick less shitty tenants,” he huffed. “I was thinking about spelling out your name, but I thought that might’ve been pushing it.”

“He already thinks I’m a little weird for taking the haunted house back, I’m glad you didn’t push our luck,” you said, cupping his cheek with one hand and kissing the other.

“You’re really back?” Jisung asked quietly, placing his hand over yours on his cheek.

“I’m home, Jisung,” you promised, tracing an X over the left side of your chest. “Cross my heart.”

In bed that night, you listened to Jisung’s even breathing, slowly drawn even closer to sleep by the circles his fingers traced on your back. His breath suddenly hitched and shuddered, as if suppressing a sniffle.

“Jisung?” You said his name quietly, already beginning to turn over to face him.

“It was so hard…” His face was tear-stained, and his lower lip trembled as he tried to talk. “Going from actually being somebody with you back to… nobody seeing me, or hearing me. Walking right through me. I’d done it for so long before you, I thought I could do it. But this time…”

“Jisung…” You couldn’t do much more than murmur his name. As soon as you’d reached out for him, he’d already thrown himself into your arms. You cradled his head to your chest, pressing a long kiss to his hair.

“I was so lonely,” he admitted, curling his fingers in your shirt. “I mean, I’ve been alone, but it’s never felt like-like that.”

“Shh, shh,” you soothed his sobs, gently rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I’m sorry, Jisung. I’m so sorry…”

He seemed to be trying to collect himself, wiping at his eyes as he lifted his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It must’ve… They kicked you out so soon after your mom passed. You didn’t even have time to grieve her.”

“It was really difficult, yeah. Especially because I didn’t have you,” you said softly, stroking his hair. “I didn’t have anybody. Felt like I was invisible, too.”

He shuffled up higher to sit up against the pillows, wrapping an arm around you, and you let him pull you under his chin. You leaned your head against him, your eyes misty. After a few blinks, the tears subsided again. You’d practically cried yourself dry in the past six months.

“I went to a grief support group the hospital holds once a week,” you continued, picking at your nails. “It helped, I guess, getting to talk about it with other people who were in the same sort of thing as me.”

“Good. I’m glad you found something to help.” He laced his fingers with yours, holding you even tighter. “I couldn’t—I hated the idea that you were going through all of that alone.”

“We’re not alone anymore,” you reminded him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay…” Jisung kissed your temple. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming back.”

“Thank you for waiting again.”

“You look very cute,” Jisung complimented you as you readjusted your outfit, poking the tip of your nose for good measure.

“Thank you,” you responded quietly, conscious of the other people nearby.

Content with your clothes, you looked around for the right person, and happened to spot a girl around your age standing further back and admiring the view as well. You and Jisung were at a riverside park that afforded a nice view of the city skyline across the water. The kitchen cabinet knobs were the easiest for you to carry about in your day-to-day life, and you found that two would usually cover Jisung for a full day out pretty well. You’d had one of the starbursts turned into a ring and another into a pendant that hung from a matching silver chain. The other six stayed in one of your tote bags in case you had something longer planned.

Approaching the girl with your phone in hand and already open to the camera, you offered a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking a picture of me?”

“Oh, sure!” She agreed, taking your phone from you.

Moving back to the railing, you posed as if you were any other visitor, resting an arm on the handrail as you smiled for the camera. Jisung took his usual cue, stepping into your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He did his best to jostle and move you as little as possible, assimilating to your position instead. The girl did a countdown before she took a few photos, and you made sure to make them each a little different, smiling, peace sign, poking your cheek. As always, Jisung did each changing pose with you.

After a few, you relaxed back out of your pose. “Thank you so much!”

“Here, look at them and make sure they’re good,” she said, handing your phone back. “I think something might be wrong with your camera, there’s this blur or something in the previews. It wasn’t showing up when I was shooting, but as soon as I took a picture, it was there.”

You took your phone back, looking at your pictures at an angle that she couldn’t see. And sure enough, Jisung was in all of them, hazy apparition and all.

“These are great, thank you!” You told her brightly, clicking your phone off.

She didn’t seem that invested in your strange phone camera phenomenon that was occurring, so she just gave you a skeptical look before shrugging. “Of course. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Closing the front door behind you, you then stepped out of your shoes before heading for your living room. You were still wrapping your brain around this really being your home now. You flopped down onto the couch, Jisung beside you, and pulled your phone out to review the pictures from earlier.

“What do you think, Sungie?” You hummed, scrolling through your camera roll.

He scooted in closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using that hand to switch between the pictures himself. He clicked his tongue contemplatively, zooming in on his “head” in one of the photos.

“Can you tell I’m winking?” He asked, squinting at the screen.

You giggled. “Not quite.”

“I like the first one and this one.”

“Me too.” You started doing a little bit of color balancing to the pictures.

“Are you hungry, baby? You didn’t get anything while we were out.”

“Oh, sure,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Jisung kissed the top of your head before standing up, and you heard his footsteps recede into the kitchen.

Content with the pictures, you opened up Instagram and got ready to draft a new post. You chose the two pictures that you and Jisung liked, then typed out your caption: ‘went to the river today.’

You’d just hit post when Jisung came back in with a plate of food for you. Setting your phone aside, you accepted the plate with a smile. “Thanks.”

“You posted them yet?” He asked, sitting back down and turning his attention to a partially-assembled jigsaw puzzle.

“Just did,” you confirmed, turning your phone back on to check your notifications. “All the usual stuff so far.”

You hadn’t set out to post pictures with your ghost boyfriend, much less make a hobby of it. When you went out, you used to be extra careful not to get him in any photos, actually. Then, when your mom was put on hospice, in her moments of lucidness she started giving you errands to run for her. She always asked for you to take pictures of yourself on all of the excursions she sent you on. She said it was because she couldn’t go with you, she wanted to be able to hear about it and see it so she could feel like she had gone with you.

At first, you hated every errand she sent you on. You didn’t want to leave her side for even a second, anxious to even use the bathroom, just in case you missed the moment she passed. But you’d begrudgingly accept the tasks, as they were usually things like ‘I want to drink this rare tea before I die,’ or ‘I want to eat a sweet from this bakery before I die.’ You only realized what she was doing when they started to become errands like ‘I always wanted to watch the sunset at this view, won’t you go and take a picture for me?’ At the time, you were still anxious that you would miss the moment, but in hindsight you felt overwhelmed with the knowledge of how loved you were, that your mom was still taking care of you in whatever way she could, even then.

Jisung would almost always accompany you on these errands, at least for however long he could. You tried to take nice pictures to show your mom wherever you went, and of yourself in those places, asking strangers to take pictures of you if you felt it appropriate—usually if she had sent you to some more touristy place. It was while someone else was taking your picture in front of some field of flowers of all places that you cracked under all the stress and burst into tears. Jisung stepped in to comfort you at the same time the older man had taken another picture—he realized that you’d started crying immediately after taking the picture and consoled you as well. Later, when you actually looked at the picture, you realized that Jisung had been captured in the photograph, a dark figure reaching towards you as you turned away from the camera to cover your face, seemingly turning into him. After that, the two of you decided to take more pictures together intentionally.

Having nothing better to do with the pictures, you shared them on your social media, figuring that nobody would naturally assume it was a real-life ghost. They didn’t, of course. Most people thought it was some kind of continued photography or photo-editing project. You didn’t expect it to draw in the outside audience that they did, though. Everybody had a different interpretation of the pictures. Some thought they were just meant to be spooky and look like a ghost, others thought the blur represented something, whether that be grief, a former relationship, mental health struggles, it really was endless. You, meanwhile, continued posting your pictures with your ghost boyfriend.

Putting your phone back down, you picked up a puzzle piece as well. You lost track of how long the two of you had been in peaceful silence, the only sounds that of the cardboard pieces sliding across the table and clicking into place when someone knocked on the door. It was a quick succession of knocks, and you and Jisung paused to look at each other.

“Are you expecting a package?” He asked.

“No.” You furrowed your brow. They knocked again, prompting you to get to your feet. “Neighbor maybe?”

When you peeked out the peephole, you spotted a woman standing there, smoothing out her designer clothes. She fixed her hair as she looked around almost nervously. You were tempted to not answer, except something about her seemed familiar, so you unlocked the latch and cracked open the door enough to show yourself, but not too wide.

“Uhm, hi?” You greeted her, keeping your tone light.

“Hi,” she immediately focused a bright, friendly smile on you. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes. You’re…?”

“Chaeyeon, I’m Seohyuk’s wife.”

“Of course.” You nodded and smiled politely, looking around uncertainly.

“It’s okay that you didn’t immediately recognize me, we only met the one time and it’s been a while,” Chaeyeon reassured you.

“Yes. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too.” She was still smiling at you, and there was an awkward pause as you didn’t have anything to say back. Chaeyeon said, “I’m sure you’re confused why I’m here. There’s a book that Seohyuk was trying to find in his father’s things the other day and we haven’t been able to locate it. Neither of his brothers nor my mother-in-law have it, and it’s not on the list of things that we sold or donated. Would you mind checking to see if you have it?”

“My mom had a lot of books, it’s possible it got mixed in,” you agreed mildly. When she was still standing there a beat later with her expectant, shining eyes, hands clasped over her purse in front of her, you stepped back slightly from the door. “Uh, do you want to come in while I look for it?”

“Thank you.” She followed you in, and you closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry Seohyuk sent you all the way out here and got you involved,” you said as you led her into the living room where the bookshelves were. Jisung was still sitting on the couch, and narrowed his eyes at Chaeyeon suspiciously. You shot him a warning look behind her back to behave. The last thing you needed was him spooking her or making you react in some socially unacceptable way in front of her.

“I asked to come. He was going to stop by on his way to work, but I had some errands to run, so I figured…” She trailed off wistfully. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding, you know.”

Unsure of what else to say, you replied, “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Here’s all her old books that I still have. What’s the title?” You asked, then paused after she read off the title from her phone. “Wait, that one?”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You did your best not to outright roll your eyes, but didn’t entirely hide your annoyance at Seohyuk already going back on his agreement to stop harassing you over your respective parents’ things. “I know that book. It’s nice, actually one of my mom’s favorite authors. It’s in my room, wait here.”

Upstairs, you weren’t surprised that Jisung had followed you.

“He’s a dick,” he scoffed.

“Mm-hm.” You grabbed the book off your dresser. “What’s new?”

“Tell her no.”

“I’m tired, Jisung,” you sighed. “I’m tired of fighting with him about this stuff all the time. I have plenty of things to remember my mom and Hyukjun by. I mean—I have their house. If he really wants this book, he can have it. I’m done.”

Your ghost looked down at you sadly. “He did this the whole time you were gone too?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You headed for the door. “I can’t keep her waiting.”

Descending the stairs and turning into the living room, you were pleasantly surprised to see Chaeyeon pretty much exactly where you left her. Not that you wanted to assume the worst of her, but it definitely had crossed your mind that Seohyuk had sent her here as part of some plot, no matter how nice she had been so far. But she was still in the living room, seemingly reading the spines of your collection of books, hands still on her purse.

She turned when she heard your footsteps. “You have so many books. Have you read all of these?”

“Most of them. Or had them read to me. My mom was a Literature teacher,” you explained. You held the book out to her. “Here.”

“Thanks, Y/N, Seohyuk will be really—” She accepted it, gently opening the clothbound front cover, and her eyes landed on the cover page. “The note…”

“Yeah, it was Hyukjun’s wedding gift to my mom,” you confirmed flatly.

“Keep it.” She immediately offered the book back to you.

“Huh?”

“It was a gift from his dad to your mother. I get why he wants it back, but it should be yours. I’ll talk to him.” She stepped forward to pick up your hand, putting the book into it. “I promise.”

You took it back with two hands, holding it to your chest. “Thank you. You really don’t have to go through the trouble.”

Chaeyeon smiled softly. “Are you busy?”

You couldn’t help your surprise, blinking at her. “Right now?”

“My nail appointment isn’t for another two hours. Would you like to get some tea?”

“Uhm, sure,” you accepted, despite Jisung’s wide, dumbfounded eyes.

Sat across from Chaeyeon in a teahouse, you blew on the surface of your steaming tea, tapping your nails against the side of your cup. Her fingers were elegantly wrapped around her cup, large diamond ring glinting from her left hand as she took a sip.

She set her tea down and gave you a sheepish smile. “I’m making you nervous.”

“Was it obvious?” You chuckled awkwardly, continuing to hold your own drink.

“You’re very tense.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just surprised that you would ask me to get tea with you.”

“You’re family, too,” she said kindly, and you were straining your ears to try to find any hint of insincerity, sarcasm, or malice in her tone. She really seemed genuine in her sentiments.

“I think the two of us have a pretty tenuous connection there,” you pointed out.

“I know, but since your mom passed—Oh, how do I—” She fretted for a moment, unfolding and re-folding the napkin in her lap then tucking her hair behind her ear. “…Do you have anyone else?”

You had to refrain from looking at Jisung, who was occupying the spot next to you, still observing Chaeyeon closely. “Ah, no, not really.”

“Neither do I,” she confessed. “I mean, I have Seohyuk and his family, and they’re wonderful. But my own parents have passed, and my little sister, too. She would be around your age, actually.”

“I’m so sorry, Chaeyeon,” you said genuinely.

“I know we’re not related by blood, by any stretch of the imagination, but I hope we can at least be friends. If you’d like.”

“Wait, seriously?” Jisung retorted doubtfully.

You fidgeted with the starburst ring on your finger as you thought about Chaeyeon’s words. “I don’t want to be rude since you’re being so nice to me, but can I just ask—Why? Why you’re being so nice to me? I mean, I can’t imagine that Seohyuk has been saying anything good about me to you. No disrespect to your husband.”

“I’ve gathered that you all don’t get along very well…” She acquiesced. After taking another sip of her tea, she continued, “I was only able to meet my father-in-law once. Seohyuk thought we’d have plenty of time to get acquainted after the wedding.”

You winced as you put your tea down, an apology already on your tongue before you could stop it. “I’m sorry, Hyukjun asked me not to say anything to them. I-I still don’t know if I did the right thing, I can’t imagine what it was like for them…”

“There was no wrong choice, Y/N.” She reached for one of your hands. “It was a terrible, impossible situation for everyone involved. There was no decision you could’ve made that would’ve spared everyone’s feelings. It’s okay. Don’t be sorry for honoring his wish.”

You looked down at your hands on the tabletop between you two, then back up at her. “I interrupted you, sorry. Continue.”

“I only met Hyukjun one time, but he was fantastic, he really was. And Seohyuk always talks about how amazing his dad was, you can tell he was his hero—still is.” Her voice and her features held a fondness that you had never seen on display for your stepbrother before; you were genuinely stunned for a moment. “When Seohyuk and I started dating and we were talking about our families, he finally got around to the fact that his dad remarried, and his new wife has a daughter that his dad just absolutely adores. The way he said it, I thought you were a little kid at first, and then he mentioned you had a job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her at this information, the first you’d ever heard of this.

“And he kept bringing it up every so often. That Hyukjun adored you and your mom,” she went on, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I sort of thought that if there’s this person who was apparently adored so much by the man that my husband—the man I love and adore—looked up to and loved, that I’d very much like to meet her.”

“My mom would have loved you,” you said softly, feeling your eyes fill with tears. “I mean, I know you met her at the wedding, and you were so lovely to her then, but if you had been able to really know her—God she would have loved you.”

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you cry!” Chaeyeon gasped, opening her purse and bringing out tissues to start dabbing at your eyes for you.

“It’s okay, really,” you assured her, letting her clean up your face anyway. “I think—I think I’m crying because you reminded me of her.”

She sat back on her feet. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed, mostly at yourself you were pretty sure. Chaeyeon was absolutely beaming at you now, and you took another drink of your tea as Jisung rested a cool hand on your back. “I know you have to go to a nail appointment after this, but would you mind if I visited you and Seohyuk sometime?”

“And Seohyuk?” She repeated, obviously not expecting that.

“I have something to give him back.”

“I already told you, you should keep the book,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

“Other than the book.”

“Oh, then of course.”

“I still don’t know why you like coming to work with me,” you sighed, pulling on your jacket.

Jisung grabbed your bag for you, which had the other cabinet knobs you weren’t already wearing in it. “Do you want me to stay here?”

“I didn’t say that.” You slipped the bag onto your shoulder. “I just don’t get how sitting around watching me work at the office is any more interesting than sitting around here all day.”

“All the dishes are done, laundry’s folded, and I dare you to find a speck of dust in this house.”

“Yes, Jisung, you’re the perfect house husband,” you said, an amused smile playing across your lips as you went to unlock the front door. “Also not what we were talking about.”

He held the door open for you, following you out and waiting on the porch as you locked up. “I miss you when you’re at work. Is that so horrible?”

“No,” you chuckled, pocketing your keys and starting your journey to work. “I miss you too, Sungie.”

After your mom passed, your work had let you take as much time as you needed to both grieve and deal with your hasty change in living situation. Once you were ready, you slowly started a new hybrid schedule—coming into the office for a full day twice a week and working from home part-time the rest of the work week.

Your first stop after dropping your bag off at your cubicle was usually the breakroom. This morning, it seemed as though somebody had brought in donuts, and you spotted a familiar figure already hunched over them, carefully selecting one.

“Good morning, Sungchan,” you greeted your coworker brightly.

The tall man shot up straight, spinning around in place, his ID badge hitting him in the face in the process. He brought a hand up to grab his lanyard and lay it flat against his chest again as he gave you a crooked, breathless smile. “Oh! Morning, Y/N!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you laughed, grabbing a mug from the cabinet to start on your morning cup of coffee.

“No, it’s okay, I was just so focused, I guess.” He pointed to the box behind him, “Mr. Choi brought donuts for everyone.”

“I see. What kind are you going to get?”

“I don’t know…” Sungchan sucked in air through his teeth regretfully. “They all look really good.”

“Pick two and we can split them.”

“Really?” He asked you, his big eyes shining at you.

“Really.”

“Well, which one do you want?”

“I don’t care, you pick.”

Sungchan made his selections, and carefully cut them into precise halves before letting you pick your pieces of each.

Loading your two donut halves up onto a napkin and grabbing your coffee mug, you gave him a single nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” He beamed. “I’ve got to go, I haven’t checked my email yet.”

“Ugh,” you wrinkled your nose at the thought. “Emails…”

Sungchan darted out of the breakroom, leaving just you and your ghost. You took a bite of one of the donut halves, washing it down with a long sip of your coffee. Average chain donut.

“I know you’re pouting, Jisung,” you hummed under your breath. “He’s new, he needs people to be nice to him.”

“I know, I don’t think you’re flirting,” Jisung replied, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms. “I think he’s going to think you are.”

“Too bad for him, then.”

Another one of your coworkers wandered in then, still yawning and rubbing sleep out of his eye. Shotaro looked around the breakroom expectantly. “Sungchan said there were donuts?”

“Only if you like sugary cardboard,” you informed him, dropping yours in the trashcan on your way out.

At your cubicle, you started your computer up, the sound of Sungchan clacking away at his keyboard on your left filling your ears. You took your own lanyard with your company ID out of your tote bag and set it on your desk. The ID gave you access to certain areas of the building, and while technically all employees were supposed to be wearing them at all times, nobody except brand-new employees actually followed that rule. Jisung sat in the chair at the empty cubicle to your right, kicking his feet up on the desk and humming to himself.

Shotaro finally joined your small pod of six desks at his spot across from you, and you noted that he didn’t have a donut with him. You tapped your fingers along to the melody that Jisung was humming.

“Hey, Shotaro, did you see that email that Ms. Kim sent?” Sungchan asked.

“Dude,” Shotaro groaned. “One—I just sat down. Two—Take some notes from Y/N, don’t check your email until 9:30. I promise, you’re going to be so much happier.”

“But it’s already 9:10, I mean—” Sungchan let out a distressed huff, running a hand through his hair. “What do you do for thirty minutes?”

“Get your coffee, fill up your water bottle, chat with people in the breakroom, chat with people by the copy machine, finish any work you didn’t get to yesterday, tidy up your desk, literally anything except open your email,” you listed off some ideas for him, just beginning to turn your own computer on.

“Why?”

“Because if I read an email before 9:30, and it pisses me off, I’m going to be pissed off all day,” you snorted. “It’s for everyone’s good.”

“I’m so glad you’re in the office now,” Shotaro sighed happily. “This is the kind of wisdom I missed out on when I started and you were still remote.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky I came back in at all.”

Jisung sat up in his seat, something clearly having caught his attention across the floor. “Be right back.”

You glanced up from your computer screen to see where he was going, and immediately spotted what he had: Two supervisors who also worked on your floor, Ms. Kim and Mr. Han, walking towards Ms. Kim’s office as they had a hushed conversation. They were at about the same rank as your supervisor, Mr. Choi, and with regards to work, there was nothing remarkable about them. They weren’t overseeing any of your projects, you really only knew of them in passing. But they had caught Jisung’s interest, and by extension, yours, because they had begun something of a will-they/won’t-they romance a couple months ago. You never encouraged Jisung’s snooping on your colleagues, but he needed to entertain himself somehow, and you made sure not to divulge anything he told you that wasn’t already part of the office gossip zeitgeist in conversation to your coworkers.

A few minutes later, Jisung was practically running back to you, narrowly darting around some of your other coworkers in his haste. You could see some of them shiver and look around in confusion at the sudden breeze that had blown by with seemingly no reason, peering up to try to find the air conditioning vent that must be around. Letting out a small sigh and keeping your eyes on your computer screen, you readjusted in your seat and scooted over to make just enough room for Jisung to hop up on your desk.

He happily squeezed in next to your keyboard, swinging his legs as he was clearly buzzing with news. “They’re finally doing it. They’re going on a date!”

“Hm.” You had to keep your reactions small, but felt a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“I know! Ms. Kim is really worried because she doesn't want anybody here to think differently of her, but Mr. Han was just over the moon that she finally said yes! And you could tell that Ms. Kim was excited, too, obviously.”

You grabbed a notepad on your desk, scribbling a note to Jisung. ‘What kind of date?’

“They haven’t figured that out. Ms. Kim got a call before they could finish talking and Mr. Han left her office so she could take it,” he sighed, clearly disappointed.

‘Cliffhanger...’

“Hey, Y/N, does this email sound like, professional enough?” Sungchan asked, poking his head around your shared cubicle wall and through Jisung’s arm. Your ghost jerked his limb away from your coworker with a miffed look as you ripped the paper off your notepad and tossed it in your garbage can.

“Let me take a look,” you offered, going to scoot your chair over at the same time Jisung moved out of your way, back to his empty cubicle.

“Do you have a vent blowing right on your desk or something?” Sungchan shivered for dramatic effect. “I swear the air temperature dropped like ten degrees as soon as I crossed into your cubicle.”

“Cold spot!” Shotaro declared, his finger jabbing at the two of you from over the cubicles. His eyes followed a moment later. “What did I tell you?”

You scoffed, trying to skim the email in front of you again, “You were serious about that?”

“What? What is he talking about?” Sungchan looked between the two of you nervously.

“Shotaro thinks the office is—”

“—Our office is haunted,” Shotaro got up from his chair to lean forward and hiss dramatically, as if the alleged ghost was going to get him just for saying so.

Jisung, meanwhile, gasped and looked around with mock fear on his features. “A ghost! Where?!”

“You guys are ridiculous.” You shook your head.

“What did I do?” Sungchan pouted, obviously assuming that you were talking about him and Shotaro.

“You put a smiley face in your email, Sungchan,” you retorted, hitting the backspace with no mercy. “And you can’t end every sentence with an exclamation mark. The period button exists for a reason. Use it.”

“But I don’t want to sound mean…”

“One. You get one exclamation mark per email. And no smiley faces.”

“Okay…”

“Fine, everybody ignore Shotaro,” your other coworker threw his hands up as he fell back into his seat, letting the chair roll away from his desk before he scooted up again. “But when the ghost starts deleting important emails and writing in toner on the copy room wall that it’s going to kill us all, I will say I told you so.”

“Hey, there’s some ideas…” Jisung nodded along as if he were actually considering this. You shot him a look out of the corner of your eye.

“Your talents are wasted here, Shotaro. You should really be writing horror novels that exclusively take place in office buildings,” you told him, rolling back over to your own desk.

“Ah! Lunch break!” Jisung cheered as the two of you exited the building into the sunny, mild day.

“Yeah, you’ve been really hard at work,” you teased him under your breath, starting on the familiar path to a nearby park that you usually took your lunch at. It was typically pretty empty at this time of day, and you found that you could freely talk to Jisung there, a single headphone in for plausible deniability.

“I wish you had an office,” he sighed. “So we could actually talk to each other.”

“I used to,” you said, plopping down at a picnic table. “Before I moved in with my mom and Hyukjun, when I was still full-time in my old position.”

“Wait, really? What was your old position?”

“Mr. Choi’s position.”

“So Mr. Choi is in your office?”

You grabbed your lunch from your tote bag. “Hasn’t been my office in years. It’s his office.”

“But—Why—” Jisung frowned. “You haven’t said anything before.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t had a reason to bring it up, I guess.”

“You’re back now, though.”

“I couldn’t do that job anymore when I chose to help my mom and Hyukjun. Mr. Choi has been a great supervisor; there’s no point in them firing him just to put me back there now. I wasn’t expecting them to keep an office empty for me for years.”

Your ghost was quiet as he seemed to ponder this.

“Besides, if I had that job again, I’d have to be at the office every day,” you pointed out. “All day. No free time like I have now.”

“Oh.” His nose wrinkled as he presumably imagined what that would be like. “Mr. Choi can keep the office.”

“So are we doing bets on what sort of date—”

“Why is he here?” Jisung frowned and crossed his arms, focusing a suspicious glare behind you.

It was then that you heard footsteps approaching you, and you turned to see Mr. Choi coming down the sidewalk, seemingly not by accident as he focused a friendly smile on you as soon as you spotted him. He lifted his hand in a wave of greeting, and you returned the gesture, watching with interest as he stopped next to your picnic table.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said brightly, and you noticed a brown paper bag in his other hand. “Sorry, were you on a call?”

“Just finished.”

“Well, would you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, Mr. Choi,” you indicated to the seat across from you.

Jisung moved from his spot with a sigh, sitting next to you instead as your supervisor sat down. Mr. Choi opened his sack lunch to bring out a bento box and small juice box, making you smile into your next bite of food.

“Cute,” you commented, pointing to the colorful vegetable slices that had been cut into star and heart shapes in one section of the container.

“My wife makes all these elaborate lunches for the kids to bring to school,” he began to explain, and though you almost expected him to be sheepish about having a childish-looking lunch, unveiling crackers in the shapes of cartoon characters, instead he just looked fond and proud. “Anything they don’t eat goes in my lunch the next day.”

“You get the scraps?” You couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yeah,” he laughed as well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take your lunch out of the office if it wasn’t a business lunch, Mr. Choi,” you said knowingly.

“Ah, was I obvious?” He chuckled, pulling on one of his ears nervously.

“I know you value our free time and want us to as well, so I don’t think this is work-related, right?”

“Tangentially…” The older man popped a star-shaped cucumber in his mouth. “I just… wanted to check in with you, Y/N. I hate calling people into my office for bad reasons, much less something like this. Very… confrontational.”

“I get it.” The corner of your lip twitched with a smile. “I’m alright, actually. Still taking things day by day. I miss her a lot, but it doesn’t feel like I’m… suffocating anymore.”

“Good, that’s good to hear.”

“I’m nervous, Sungie,” you admitted, taking a deep breath to try to calm your erratic heart.

“You’ll be fine, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “You’ve dealt with him before.”

The two of you were on the way to your eldest stepbrother’s house, at the invite of his wife. Chaeyeon had reassured that Seohyuk wanted you to come over, which only knotted your stomach even more. You could deal with Seohyuk being an ass, but you weren’t used to him being… friendly. At least not without being in front of your parents.

You squeezed Jisung’s hand tighter, trying to focus on the familiar coolness of it. “I know. But what if I’m nice because I think he’s being nice, and end up revealing something that he’ll just use the next time he decides to be cruel?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jisung smoothed his thumb over your hand as he hushed your anxious thoughts. “You’re just returning something; nobody said you have to pour your heart out to him.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

Double checking the address Chaeyeon sent you, you watched the house numbers go down and down until you were finally in front of 1174, your destination. You gave Jisung’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go and starting up the short driveway to their front door.

The black painted door swung open hardly a second after you had knocked, the familiar, beaming features of Chaeyeon greeting you.

“Hey, Y/N!” She threw her arms around you. “You made it!”

“Hi, Chaeyeon,” you timidly hugged her back. “Good to see you again. Thank you for inviting me over.”

“Of course, come in.” She grabbed your arm in a gentle but firm grasp, pulling you in after her. Jisung barely slipped in before she closed the door, to your amusement—he could’ve easily walked through it.

Chaeyeon had brought you into their living room, where her husband stood up from his seat on their leather couch. Seohyuk kept his hands behind his back as he nodded to you politely.

“Y/N, hello.”

“Hey, Seohyuk,” you nodded back, nearly suffocating in the tension already.

After an awkward, heavy pause, Chaeyeon piped up, bubbly as ever as she asked you, “So, you said you had something, Y/N? To give back?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You cleared your throat, reaching into your tote bag. In a small pocket separate from your cabinet knobs and other things, were two small rectangles. Taking just one more second to look at the top image, a photograph of Hyukjun when he was younger, you handed both that and the other paper out to Seohyuk.

“I found these the other day, tucked into one of my mom’s books,” you explained quietly. “I think she was using them as a bookmark.”

“What’s…” He brought out the other image from behind the first, his voice trailing off. It was his and Chaeyeon’s wedding invite, and you knew he was seeing exactly what you and your mom had seen before as he held them side by side.

“You look just like him,” Chaeyeon murmured, touching the wedding invite in awe. She looked up at you with a smile, “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what you think about my mom, or really what your guys’ relationship with her was like in your eyes,” you continued. “But to her, you were family. I wish she had been in better shape to be able to show you that, and I know she did too.”

“I’m sorry.” Seohyuk looked up from the pictures to you, a painfully sincere look on his face.

“For what?”

“I never told you that, genuinely, after your mom was diagnosed, or after she passed. I’m really sorry, for everything you’ve been through.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your dad’s diagnosis, even if he told me not to. It’s still… You didn’t get to prepare.”

Something distantly beeped from an adjoining room, and Chaeyeon briefly squeezed her husband’s shoulder and murmured a hushed ‘be right back’ before slipping out of the room.

“It sucked, yeah,” he admitted hoarsely. “It must’ve been hard on you, taking care of the both of them by yourself. Especially Dad, I’m sure he didn’t want anything spent on himself, he wanted everything saved up for your mom, right?”

“Yeah, the memory care aides could only do so much for late-stage lung cancer.”

“Thank you. For taking care of him and being there for him when we weren’t.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or bitterness in his tone, just a honeyed warmth that nearly left you shell-shocked.

“I know you already know this, but your dad was just a really, really great guy,” you spoke past the lump in your throat as memories of your stepdad bubbled up. “I’m happy I got to know him for as long as I did. My dad died when I was young, and I didn’t have Hyukjun back then but sometimes it really felt like I did. Just felt like he’d always been there.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, setting the pictures down on the coffee table in front of him.

“You already said that, Seohyuk.”

“I know, but I have more stuff to apologize for.”

“Like what? Did you hire someone to secretly egg the house while I’ve been here or something?” You tepidly joked.

“No, no.” He chuckled and shook his head. “When my parents got divorced, it was good. Like, a good thing for everyone. We didn’t want our parents to get back together or anything. Our mom had boyfriends here and there, you know, but Dad never even dated. So when he, seemingly out of the blue, got married to this random woman who also had a daughter that he pretty much immediately accepted as his own, after he spent his whole life raising three sons—as I’m saying it, I can hear how asinine and juvenile this is—it felt like he was just getting himself a new family. Like we’d been replaced.”

You blinked at him, slowly nodding as you actively chose to empathize with him instead. “I’m sorry it felt like you and your brothers were pushed out. That must have hurt. Did you talk to your dad at all?”

“Not in any productive way. And really, you don’t have to apologize. I need to apologize,” he tapped his chest insistently. “We were all grown men in our twenties and thirties behaving like children because our dad was finally living his own life and getting married. It was unacceptable the way we treated you and your mom. Especially you, we were downright cruel to you sometimes, and I’m extremely sorry for that.”

“Seriously?!” Jisung finally spoke, harshly spitting the word out. “After everything they did to you? He thinks he can just—”

“I… really wasn’t expecting this when I came over. Uh, thank you.” You knew your surprise was evident on your features, there was no sense in hiding it in your words either. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… Why the change of heart?”

“My wife brought up a good point to me the other day.” He pointed to the doorway that Chaeyeon had disappeared through, a sheepish half-smile on his face. “We were jealous because Dad loved you so much. But he never loved us any less, he just always had more to give. I’d like to actually get to know his other kid that he spent his last few years with.”

“I… Me?” You pointed to yourself hesitantly.

“Yeah, you,” he laughed with a light air of teasing, though this time it didn’t feel mocking. “We were out of line at Dad’s wake. Of course you two were his family, anybody could see that. I’m sorry for all that, too.”

“He did so much more—”

“Thanks, Seohyuk,” you cut Jisung’s angry ramble off, offering your stepbrother a calm, genuine smile.

Seohyuk let out a sudden, loud, raucous sneeze, throwing his elbow up to catch it as he turned away from you.

You snickered fondly. “You sneeze like him.”

“I do?”

“Yeah.”

“I never noticed…” He lowered his elbow slowly. “Does that mean that I sneeze like a dad?”

“Don’t worry, I do t—”

Something had tickled your nose just then, and you were cut off by the both of you sneezing, nearly identical in volume.

Chaeyeon poked her head back in then, “My God, was that a grenade or you two sneezing?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, Seohyuk giving a couple airy chuckles too.

He gestured to the room where Chaeyeon was, “It’s almost dinner, would you stay and eat with us?”

“I have plans tonight,” you informed him, already thinking of the movies that you and Jisung were going to watch when you got back home.

“Another night? If you want to, no hurt feelings if you’d rather not—I haven’t made myself seem very appealing to hang out with.”

You contemplated this a moment. Your ghost took your pause as an opportunity to let you know his opinion, a loud sigh from behind you. You nodded, “…I could do next week—Monday.”

“Monday!” Seohyuk repeated enthusiastically, clapping his hands once. “Yes, Monday, we can do that. I get home from work at six, uhm, Chaeyeon, will you have appointments that afternoon?”

“Nothing after three.” Chaeyeon’s eyes were sparkling in the warm light from the nearby stylish floor lamp.

“I work in the mornings on Mondays,” you said. “What time should I arrive?”

“Seven? Yeah, dinner should be ready by then,” Seohyuk talked himself through it, flitting his wide, hopeful smile between you and Chaeyeon.

“Or you can get here closer to five and we can hang out first,” Chaeyeon offered to you.

“Or that too!”

“I’ll have some errands to run, seven will probably be the best…” You were still wary of spending so much time here at once.

“Seven it is,” Seohyuk confirmed fervently.

“Why’d you say yes?” Jisung questioned as you pulled a blanket over your laps later that night.

“Mm?” You hummed inquisitively, settling into the corner of the couch. “To dinner at Seohyuk and Chaeyeon’s?”

“Yeah. He was terrible to you, baby. Why even bother?”

You continued humming thoughtfully this time as you tried to piece together all your errant sentiments and feelings about it. “Because he’s making an effort, so I want to, too. And it’s like I said before, Sungie… I’m just tired of fighting with him. It’s so exhausting holding onto all that.”

He was still pouting thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You nudged his side teasingly, “Besides, I’ve got you to hold all my grudges for me.”

Your ghost’s face relaxed just in the slightest as he pulled you closer to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Well, I still don’t forgive him. On your behalf or mine.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He rested his head in the crook of your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Worst six months of my life or afterlife without you.”

You leaned back against the arm of the couch to let him sprawl out on top of you, running a hand through his hair. “That’s fair, I suppose. But I don’t think I can really ask him to apologize to you.”

“He already believes the house is haunted, I bet you could get him on another Ouija board,” he mumbled. “Say you heard a weird noise or something.”

“You really want him back in our house so soon?” You laughed, still playing with his hair.

“No,” he huffed.

“Are you ready to pick the first movie yet or are you still sulking?”

“A couple more minutes…”

You were rushing. You were running late this morning, somehow, and it was only when you got to your bus stop that you realized you’d forgotten your tote bag.

“Whew! Right on time, huh, Sungie?” You looked around breathless at the empty bus stop. Too empty. Jisung wasn’t there, and he didn't pop up like he normally did if he wasn't immediately visible. Then you realized the distinct lack of weight on your shoulder.

“Shit!” You patted your pockets fervently for any spare knobs. You didn't even have your ring or bracelet, having taken your jewelry off in order to shower this morning. Just as you were contemplating running back for Jisung, your bus pulled up, and your decision was made for you. He would just have to stay home today.

Walking into work, you felt weirdly lonely, despite your two desk buddies immediately finding you when you arrived on your floor.

“Y/N!” Sungchan’s head was easily visible over the other personnel around him.

Shotaro was in tow, of course, and they fell into step on either side of you. “Y/N! Yes!”

“Good morning?” You squinted at them. “Is it? Should I be concerned as to why you’re so energetic this early?”

“Shotaro thinks—”

“Dude!” Shotaro scolded Sungchan, reaching behind you to smack him on the shoulder. “Tact? Hello?!”

“Oh, I would love to see how you’re going to do this with tact,” Sungchan scoffed back.

“So I should be concerned,” you surmised dryly, heading straight for the breakroom.

“No! I’m just glad you’re back!” Shotaro said brightly. “Because I have a theory.”

“About?”

“The office ghost.”

You held his eye contact for a silent moment before turning back to making your coffee.

“Listen, I swear, our office is haunted. And I think the ghost has a crush on you or something.”

You squinted at him, taking a slow sip of your coffee. “…What?”

“Well, I started keeping a tally every time something spooky happened for the past month—”

“Oh God, okay,” you sighed and rubbed your face.

“And I noticed a pattern. There’s pretty much no spooky stuff that happens on Tuesdays and Fridays. When you’re not here!”

“Maybe the ghost only works part-time, too,” you snorted.

“Listen, I’m telling you, something’s going to happen today now that you’re back,” Shotaro declared.

“Alright, whatever.” You shook your head. It being this early in the morning was bad enough, but you were going to have to go the whole day without Jisung, which meant it’d be dreadfully boring as well.

Back at your desk, you unlocked your computer and avoided your email, instead pulling up a report that you had been working on for the last few weeks. After putting the finishing touches on it, you sent off copies to the printer, and slowly stood up. You’d have to present it at a meeting right after lunch today, which was why you couldn’t try to sprint back home on your break to fetch Jisung—that would risk being tardy for your meeting.

In the vacant copy room, you leaned against the wall next to the machine printing off your report, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your eyes. Stupid presentation. One of the best parts of working remote was no longer having to present to a conference room full of people on your work. Now you didn’t even have Jisung here to cheer you on. You wondered how your ghost was faring home alone. You were sure he was keeping himself busy like he did before the two of you ever met—reading books, watching TV. Maybe he was even working in the garden in the backyard. The two of you had been working on livening up Hyukjun’s flower beds again after they’d been poorly tended to for so long while you were gone.

You let out a huff. You’d so much rather be home with Jisung in your garden, or at least have him here with you.

“Mm?” A confused noise came from elsewhere in the room, and you immediately opened your eyes and looked over towards the doorway, expecting to see one of your coworkers there coming to make copies of their own. But the door was still closed. Quickly looking around the room, you realized that you weren’t alone, though.

Jisung was looking around the room equally bewildered. You blinked at him in disbelief.

“Y/N? Baby?” He stepped towards you. “I thought you forgot all the knobs?”

“I did…” You whispered, reaching out to wipe some dirt off his cheek. “How…?”

“I don’t know.” He took your hand, rubbing circles into your palm with his thumb. “I was in the backyard weeding and then I was here.”

Remembering when you first experimented with bringing him out of the house with the cabinet knobs, you asked, “How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

Someone turned the doorknob to the copy room then, and you dropped your hand from Jisung’s, turning back towards the printer that you were waiting on. Shotaro entered with some papers, heading towards another machine to start making copies.

“Hey, is it just me, or is it way colder in here than normal?” Your coworker questioned.

“Huh?” You hadn’t even noticed.

“It’s normally the hottest room in the building, especially with the printers going—” He gestured to the machines that you two were standing at. “But I’ve got goosebumps.”

“Maybe they finally fixed the A/C in here?”

Shotaro squinted up at the ceiling panels. “I don’t think there’s a vent…”

“Maybe you’re sick.”

“Office ghost,” he declared triumphantly. “What did I tell you? You’re back, the ghost is back. It likes you.”

Jisung giggled at this as you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress your fond smile for your ghost.

“Or maybe it hates me and that’s why it’s only haunting me specifically,” you suggested sarcastically, making Jisung laugh even harder. “Have you ever—”

“Shh!” Shotaro suddenly cut you off harshly, glancing around wildly.

“What?” You looked around too, wondering what exactly he was doing. Jisung had also stopped laughing at the sudden shift in tone, also peering around curiously.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I swear, I just heard a guy laughing,” Shotaro insisted.

Suppressing your panic, you coolly offered a solution, “You probably did. The walls are really thin here.”

“It didn’t sound like anybody who works here.”

“You know how everybody in this building laughs?”

Shotaro’s face fell, and you felt a little bad for raining on the guy’s parade. “Well, no…”

Your reports had finished printing, and you grabbed all the papers from the tray, securing them in your arms. Patting your office friend on the shoulder, you gave him the best words of encouragement that you could in the moment, “I’m sure the office ghost like you too, Shotaro.”

Jisung nodded solemnly, opting not to say anything this time as he followed you out. You opened the door widely, pretending to struggle with the stack of papers in your arms for a moment so that your ghost could slip out with you. With Shotaro apparently hearing him for a second, you didn’t trust that there wasn’t some slim chance that he could accidentally get clipped by it somehow.

You toured around your floor of the office, dropping off copies of the report to each employee who would be attending the meeting so they could review it beforehand. Jisung silently shadowed you until you had dropped off all your copies except one and ended up in a newer part of the floor with rows of empty conference rooms. You ducked into one, locking the door behind you.

“How did you get here?” You kept your voice just above a whisper, patting down your pockets again, just in case you had a cabinet knob or spare piece of foundation or something that you had somehow forgotten about in there. Nothing, of course. “And did Shotaro just hear you?!”

“I don’t know!” Jisung threw his hands up, then grimaced. “Maybe?!”

“Keep your voice down!” You reminded him emphatically, gesturing for him to calm down.

He slapped a hand over his mouth with a sheepish wince, immediately switching to an even quieter whisper than yours, “Sorry… Not used to whispering.”

“I know.” You leaned against the wall, pursing your lips thoughtfully. “What exactly were you doing before you showed up here?”

“Weeding, like I said.”

“Wait, you had dirt on your face. You never get dirty.”

Jisung looked down at his hands, as if expecting to see them caked with even more dirt. They were clean, but that did nothing to help the uneasy feeling growing in you.

“It didn’t feel like when I would get yanked home.” Your ghost scrunched his nose thoughtfully. “When we were still figuring out the knobs and stuff. I mean, my head feels fine.”

“What about when I bring you with me usually?”

“No, it’s like…” He sighed as he couldn’t seem to find the right words, and switched trains of thought. “What were you doing? Before I showed up?”

“Exactly what you saw me doing. Waiting for my stuff to print,” you shrugged. “And thinking about how much I missed you, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s what it was like.”

“Like what?”

“I got this feeling like someone had called my name, but I didn’t hear anything.”

You sighed and checked the time. “I need to get ready for my presentation this afternoon. You’ve got to stay quiet today, Sungie. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“For once,” you teased, pecking his cheek.

Your presentation went over fine, and after, you headed for Mr. Choi’s office, knocking on the open door to get his attention.

“Ah, Y/N, come in,” he waved you in with a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, Mr. Choi.” you offered a faint smile back. “Uhm, I’m not feeling very well. I just wanted to see if I could leave early today?”

“You did look a little distracted during your presentation.” He nodded sympathetically. “Yes, go rest. And if you need to stay offline tomorrow, by all means, please do.”

“Thanks.”

Rushing to close out your programs and turn your computer off, you gave Shotaro and Sungchan hasty goodbyes before fleeing the building, Jisung on your heels.

“How do you feel?” You checked in with him quietly as you speedwalked down the sidewalks.

“Fine. Good.” He kept his voice down.

The two of you were silent until you made it home, where you grabbed your bag from the hook by the front door and took it into the living room, dumping the contents onto the floor. Immediately, you picked out the six that you kept stored in there. You jumped to your feet to run up the stairs and into your bathroom, where the other two were sitting exactly where you left them on the sink. Taking them back downstairs to show Jisung, you dropped back down to your knees to set all eight together, letting out a sigh. You knew you didn’t have any with you today, but the whole time that you were at work, there was still some non-zero chance that maybe you just hadn’t checked your pockets well enough, maybe one was somewhere, you couldn’t be absolutely sure until you saw it with your own eyes. And now you did.

“What the hell is going on?” You whispered.

“Try going down the street?” Jisung suggested. “Without anything?”

You held your hands up to show that you weren’t holding anything as you left the house—alone—and began walking down the street. You were far out of the lay lines of the property, at the end of the block, when Jisung popped up next to you.

You stared at him in shock. He stared back.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You asked. “At all?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“How would I have done that?”

He shrugged. “How would I?”

“It can’t be my clothes or anything, I just got like this whole outfit in the past couple months,” you huffed, still trying to brainstorm.

“Y/N, I think—” Jisung looked at you with wide eyes. “I think it’s you. I think I’m connected to you somehow.”

“I’m home!” The words were hardly out of your mouth when Jisung popped into the foyer.

He looked startled, barely sticking the landing as his head whipped around, a book in his hand. Your ghost let out a huff as he found his footing, closing the book on his thumb. “I wish you’d stop doing that. I was upstairs reading.”

“Sorry, Sungie.” You pecked his cheek, hanging your bag up. “I’m not trying, honest.”

Jisung’s annoyance quickly faded as he leaned down to kiss you. “I know, baby. I’m not mad, it just spooks me every time.”

“A ghost getting spooked,” you repeated humorously, walking further into your house.

“I’ll start on dinner.”

“Oh!” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Chaeyeon called me on my way home and asked if they could drop the baby off, by the way. Apparently Seohyuk has a last-minute work thing and they couldn’t find anybody else to watch her.”

“Ah. Okay.”

After getting out of your work clothes, you found Jisung in the kitchen again, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his back. “Thank you. I know it’s got to suck being here alone all day and then having people come over.”

Since the debacle with Shotaro hearing Jisung at work, you’d been erring on the side of caution and leaving Jisung home when you went to work. It made your days lonelier, and you knew he hated it too, but it was just too hard to bring him out to the same place over and over like that. Especially when you had a paranoid coworker quite literally ghost-hunting constantly.

On top of that, you hadn’t had to bring a single cabinet knob with you anywhere in order to bring Jisung along in the time since, seemingly confirming his suspicions. He was no longer anchored to the house.

“I haven’t met the baby yet,” his voice sounded like he was forcing pep into it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

When Chaeyeon had given birth, you visited the new parents and baby at their house, leaving your ghost at home for the brief meet-up. This would be the first time the family came to your place.

“They’re not staying, at least,” you reminded him. “Chaeyeon and Seohyuk. They’re just dropping SooSoo off and then picking her up after.”

“How long is she going to be here for?”

“A few hours. Don’t worry, I’ll hold her,” you teased.

Jisung snorted lightly, continuing to chop the food. “Good idea.”

Your ghost stayed upstairs while Chaeyeon and Seohyuk brought SooSoo in, handing her and all her supplies off to you. After giving you the rundown of all the basics, they rushed back out with final goodbye pecks on the cheek to both of you. You laughed and waved them off, shutting the door behind the couple.

Upon hearing the front door close, you saw Jisung hesitantly peeking down the stairs. You chuckled, “Coast is clear, Jisung.”

“I can’t believe that’s really him.” He shook his head, taking the baby’s bag off your shoulder for you.

“Who, Seohyuk?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He was like… nice to you. Actually nice.”

“I keep telling you he’s been trying.” You walked into the living room, gently bouncing SooSoo in your arms.

“You’re good with her,” Jisung said, coming to stand next to you.

“You think so?” You beamed, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. “This is the first one I’ve held.”

“Do you—” He cut himself off, staring at SooSoo with wide eyes. He slowly moved to the left, then the right. You watched his movements with confusion. He looked at you, disbelief clear on his face. “Can the baby see me?”

“What?” You looked down at her, seeing that it did appear as though her eyes were focused on a spot in the air over your shoulder where Jisung was. He moved to the right, and the baby’s eyes tracked him. He then moved to your left shoulder, and they once again followed. She continued watching him as he shifted back to hovering over your right shoulder, and you were really beginning to think that this wasn’t a coincidence.

You furrowed your brow. “Huh…”

Jisung clapped his hands directly in front of her face, and she flinched and blinked.

“Okay, okay,” you chastised him, pushing his hands away from her face. “This didn’t happen when the Kims were little, did it? It’s not like a ‘kids can see ghosts better’ thing, right?”

“No, they had no clue I was there. Babies, children, adults. Nobody ever did this.”

“Looks like you’ve got an imaginary friend, SooSoo,” you chuckled, gently tapping the tip of her nose.

“I’m not imaginary, just incorporeal,” he scoffed, but nevertheless reached around you to adjust her blanket for her.

“Do you think it has something to do with everything else?” You asked quietly. “Shotaro heard you, we don’t need the knobs anymore, now SooSoo can see you…”

“I don’t know.”

“Right. No ghost manual.”

Jisung stayed put as you sat down on the couch, readjusting the baby in your lap. You didn’t love the pensive look still on his features, especially when he didn’t seem to notice you patting the spot next to you in an invite for him to join you.

“Sungie?” You called for him quietly. “Everything okay?”

“I was thinking…” He looked at SooSoo, then held your gaze, obviously conflicted. “Do you want kids someday?”

“Oh.” You knew exactly where his mind had gone. “I-I don’t know. Definitely not right now—”

“But in the future—”

“I said I don’t know, Jisung,” you reiterated. “But what I absolutely do know, is that I love you. Okay? Can that be enough for now?”

“Okay. Yeah.” He nodded, finally joining you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I love you too.”

Chaeyeon and Seohyuk finally came back long after SooSoo had gone to sleep, and just before you were about to follow her lead, nodding off in a corner of the couch. Jisung stopped gently rocking the baby’s carseat when the doorbell rang, shaking your shoulder to make sure you were fully awake. You nodded, reluctantly getting to your feet as he wordlessly took off upstairs. Opening the front door, you greeted the couple, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped. You all chatted about the event as they gathered their daughter and the baby bag from the floor in front of the couch.

Chaeyeon parted the blankets around SooSoo, then rooted around through the bag that was on her husband’s shoulder. “Did she have her pink elephant when she came? I thought she did, but I don’t see it…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” You peered around your living room, unable to see the stuffed animal as well. “I think it might be in my room, hold on.” You held up a finger for them to wait a moment, heading for the stairs.

Jisung was already on the ground with his head and arm under the bed when you walked in. You lightly pushed the door closed behind you as he scooted back out, victoriously holding a small, pink, stuffed elephant above his head.

“Thank you, Sungie,” you said quietly, reaching out for the toy. Except he jerked it out of your reach at the last second, holding it above his head with a teasing glint in his eye. You narrowed your eyes at him, continuing to whisper, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, alright,” he snickered, setting the elephant down in your waiting palm. He used his other hand to grab your wrist, pulling you closer and pecking your forehead.

You looked up, leaning in to kiss him when you heard the creak of a floorboard right outside your bedroom door.

“You need some help in—?” Seohyuk cut his own question short as he knocked on your slightly ajar door, causing it to swing open. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had company…”

You froze, staring between the two of them as you realized that Seohyuk’s gaze was focused directly on Jisung. Immediately, you panicked, reeling back from your ghost as you tried to stay calm, process what the hell was going on, and manage the real-life façade of whatever Seohyuk must be thinking. The further you stepped away from Jisung, the more certain you were that Seohyuk could see him, his eyes flicking between the two of you very deliberately.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, uhm, Seohyuk, this is… my friend Jisung. I told him he could stop by whenever to borrow a book, I didn’t realize…” You trailed off awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you shuffled even further away from your ghost.

It was Jisung’s turn to look at you incredulously, clearly upset now at being introduced as your ‘friend.’ You cleared your throat awkwardly, gesturing between them. “Jisung, this is my brother Seohyuk.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Seohyuk flashed him a brilliant smile as he offered a hand for him to shake.

You watched with bated breath as Jisung seemed to debate doing this for a moment, then took it. To your relief and bewilderment, Jisung’s hand didn’t go through Seohyuk’s, and they shook… normally.

Seohyuk then pointed at the elephant in your hand. “Ellie and I will see you downstairs, Y/N.”

You meekly held the toy out for him to take without another word. He headed out of the room, and you nearly collapsed as soon as he was out of your sight. But you didn’t have time for that yet.

“I’m sorry, just go to the pond, I’ll come get you when they’re gone, okay?” You told Jisung in a hushed voice before he could voice any of his complaints at being called your friend, surprise at Seohyuk seeing him, or anything else. You had to get your family out of the house first.

He let out a short sigh, but nodded. “Alright, alright.”

You walked him down the stairs and to the front door, keeping a polite amount of distance between you two, well aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you from the living room. Opening the front door, you gave Jisung a courteous nod. “Alright, uh, bye, Jisung.”

“Yeah, uhm, goodnight, Y/N.” His eyes darted between you and over your shoulder, and you could tell it was taking everything in him not to habitually kiss you goodbye.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung!” Seohyuk called out from the living room.

“Uh, yeah, you too!” He replied, giving a final wave over his shoulder before departing.

You nearly slammed the door shut behind him, taking a deep breath in to calm yourself down before turning around.

Seohyuk grinned at you as you walked back into the living room. “Friend, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up.”

“I’m just saying… he didn’t leave with a book.”

“Oh, you’re the worst!” You huffed as he burst into laughter.

Chaeyeon shook her head, handing SooSoo’s carseat to her husband.

“I swear, you two bicker like real siblings now,” she commented, wrapping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Seohyuk, leave her alone.”

“What? You didn’t see them, Chae, it was—”

“Drop it.”

“Fine, fine.” He held his free hand up, still with the same shit-eating grin.

“We’re going to get out of your hair now, hon,” Chaeyeon declared, squeezing your arm. She then looked at Seohyuk pointedly.

After giving the three of them your final goodbyes at the door, you closed it and locked it up behind them before dashing to the front window. Through a small crack between two blinds, you watched them load up Seohyuk’s new, sensible SUV before pulling away from the curb. Once you were certain they would be several streets away, you threw on a pair of shoes and ran out the door. Despite how dark it was, you knew the way to the pond by heart.

When you first entered the clearing, you couldn’t see your ghost, and your heart jumped to your throat. You took out your phone, shining the flashlight around everywhere. “Jisung?!” You cried out.

“Right here.” He appeared in front of you. “That still works, apparently.”

“God, what the hell just happened?!” You took his hand, marching back home with him in tow.

“I don’t know.”

“I mean, Seohyuk not only could hear you, but see you and touch you?!”

“I know.”

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“I don’t know.”

You lifted his hand that you were hold up, shining your flashlight directly on it. He didn’t look or feel any different—cool to the touch, and he had always had some color to him. With your fast, anxious pace, it didn’t take you long to get back home, dragging him back inside.

Just in the foyer, you stopped and indicated for him to stay right there. Holding up your phone with the camera open, you took a picture of Jisung without even looking at the screen. The suspense didn’t last long, as you swiped to view the image, nearly dropping your phone in shock. Instead of the normal shadowy glitch in frame, your ghost was staring right back, his dark eyes wide open as he looked past the camera directly at you.

You wordlessly turned the phone around to show him. He reached out towards the screen, then pulled his hand back, resting his index finger in the center of his chest.

“Th-That’s me?” He asked hesitantly. “Right?”

“Yeah, Sungie,” you replied hoarsely. “That’s you.”

“What the hell is happening?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you feel okay?” Jisung asked abruptly.

“Huh?” You hurried to swallow the bite of food that you had just taken. “Yeah, Sungie, I feel fine. It’s not that hot yet.”

You had taken advantage of the cool spring day to do some much-needed weeding in the gardens, and were taking a break to eat the lunch that Jisung had just made for you. He took a sip of his lemonade before setting the cup down on the porch step beside him. Another new development: he could eat and drink now. He wasn’t necessarily hungry or thirsty like you, but he enjoyed food again.

“I don’t mean the weather, I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair as he took a minute to try to piece his words together. “All this that’s been happening. I’m definitely tied to you now, not the house. But I don’t want… to be… taking anything from you. Your soul, or life force, or whatever. I don’t know what’s going on, but if you feel any worse for it, then—”

“No, God, no,” you reassured him, putting your plate aside to scoot closer to him and wrap an arm around him. “I feel just fine, I promise.”

“Would you tell me if it was making you feel worse?”

“I would tell you if I didn’t feel good, yes, but whether or not that would hypothetically be connected is an entirely different question.”

He sighed, wringing his hands between his knees. “I’m just worried, Y/N. And scared. I don’t know what’s happening to us and I don’t like that.”

“I don’t like not knowing either,” you agreed quietly. “But it’s not hurting me, okay? And it’s not hurting you—Well, other than when you stubbed your toe the other day.”

“How was I supposed to know it was going to do that?” He whined, grabbing his foot through his shoe.

Yet another new thing—Jisung could feel physical pain again. Before, the only sort of harm he would come into was his headaches if he was going from the house for too long and got pulled back. Now, if he wasn’t careful to go through an object, he could hurt himself on it just like you. Bruise and all.

“Shotaro misses you, by the way,” you informed him. “He was lamenting the lack of office ghost activity lately.”

“Funny enough, I kinda miss him too,” Jisung admitted. “It’s so boring being stuck here all day now.”

“Mr. Choi put another dinner on our calendars next week, you know…” You said cautiously. “Do you want to come?”

He blinked at you. “Like… on purpose?”

“Yeah, it’s open to significant others too. We’re pretty certain everyone can see you now,” you reminded him, thinking of all the cashiers, strangers in public, and neighbors that had interacted with Jisung at this point.

“I—Yes, okay,” he agreed happily, looking down at his lap.

“Good, you’ll need lots of practice.”

“Practice for what?!”

“SooSoo’s birthday party next month.”

Down the street from the restaurant that you were supposed to meeting your coworkers at, you stopped Jisung on the sidewalk. Fixing his collar, you reminded him, “Okay, Sungie, remember, you’ve never met these people before. You can’t say stuff that you’re not supposed to know.”

“I know, I know,” he huffed, but stayed still as you messed with his hair too.

“How long have we been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Where did we meet?”

“The library.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a… freelance… graphic designer…?” He answered uncertainly, watching your face with each syllable.

“You have got to be more convincing than that.”

“I barely understand what that is!” He replied indignantly. “What if they ask me questions?”

“You just have to say that your clients make you sign NDAs so you can’t say anything about your projects!” You said. “Or pick a different job, I don’t know! Something that’s easy to talk around. I just don’t want you getting asked questions that are hard to answer.”

He shook his head. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come.”

“No, you’re my boyfriend and I want to introduce you to my coworkers.” You took his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I want you here. I’m not going to keep you locked up forever.”

Jisung took a deep breath, squeezing your hand tight. “Alright, okay. Let’s do it.”

Pushing the door open, you immediately spotted the table of your coworkers in the corner, waving to them as you walked over. Mr. Choi stood up to greet you, giving you a one-armed hug. His wife stood up as well, kissing your cheek.

“So good to see you, sweetheart.” She was absolutely beaming as she drew back and moved her expectant gaze to Jisung next to you.

You inhaled, starting the introductions. “This is my boyfriend, Jisung. Jisung, this is my supervisor, Mr. Choi, and his wife, Dahyun.”

Mr. Choi shook Jisung’s hand, broad grin on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, sir,” Jisung coughed over the crack in his voice, giving him the best bow that he could in the cramped space of the restaurant.

You were the last ones to arrive, and Sungchan thankfully scooted over to make room for you at the very end. Hastily doing introductions between everyone, you then started looking over the menu with Jisung.

“So, what do you do, Jisung?” Sungchan asked from your other side, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh, I’m uh, I’m a freelance…” Your ghost trailed off, and you squeezed his knee under the table to think of something fast before you would have to. “Photographer! Sorry, this menu just looks so good, I zoned out. I’m a photographer, yeah.”

Well, not the worst choice in the world.

Shotaro perked up from across the table. “Oh! Do you help Y/N with all those crazy pictures she posts?”

Jisung nodded hastily, latching onto the life preserver that your coworker had unknowingly thrown him. “Yes, yes I do.”

“They’re really cool,” Sungchan complimented him. “Is it all photo editing or is some of the effect practical?”

You looked over at your ghost to gauge if he was going to need your help on this one. He was frozen as he was clearly wracking his brain for how to answer, so you decided to swoop in.

“Some of it’s practical,” you answered for him. “But it’s a proprietary technique so he really can’t say much more than that…”

Sungchan held his hands up in surrender. “Ah, okay.”

“Do you have your own account?” Shotaro asked eagerly, bringing his phone out. “She never tags anyone.”

“So stingy with the credit,” Sungchan clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” Jisung hastily replied. “I’m not really into that sort of stuff…”

“How do you get clients then? If you’re a freelancer but you don’t have social media?”

“Well…”

Seeing that he was panicking again, you smoothly took over, “Word of mouth. He’s just that good.”

Your coworkers seemed both impressed and satisfied, nodding to themselves and each other. “Cool, cool.”

As a waiter came around to start taking everyone’s orders, you patted Jisung’s leg under the table, reassuring him that he’d passed the first part of the gauntlet. He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

As soon as the front door clicked shut behind you, Jisung let out a guttural groan, sinking to the floor against the hallway wall. He dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head.

“How do you do it?” He bemoaned.

“Do what?” You chuckled, hanging your purse up.

“Talk to that many people for so long.”

“Aw, my poor introverted ghost.” You pouted sympathetically, squatting down in front of him.

“I had friends when I was alive. A bunch. I saw them all the time. Every day!”

“Death changed you, Sungie.”

“Ugh…”

You stroked his hair. “So, do you not want to go to SooSoo’s birthday party? It’s fine if you don’t, I haven’t told them I’m bringing a guest yet, I was waiting to see how tonight went.”

Jisung lifted his head up just enough to rest his chin in his palms, squishing his cheeks up. “No, I had fun. I just… need to get used to people again. I’m not used to having to talk to people who aren’t you. I want to go to the birthday party with you. Especially since those people will be there.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” You smiled, gently tweaking his cheek. “Rule one, you can’t call them ‘those people.’ At least not to their face.”

“Fine.”

“Ready, baby?” Jisung asked as you turned the corner onto Seohyuk and Chaeyeon’s street.

“Mhm,” you responded, looking over at him skeptically. “Are you ready?”

“They’re family,” he replied seriously.

You snickered, leaning over to peck his cheek. “I almost believed you, Sungie. Good job.”

“Just don’t leave me alone with Hyukjun’s ex-wife,” he begged, breaking his facade.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you assured him. “Seohyuk says his mom’s been going to AA, though, and Joohyuk has been in anger management counseling ever since his wife left him, and that Minhyuk has totally mellowed out after experiencing empathy for the first time when he tried ayahuasca in Peru last month. So who knows, they might be better.”

“What a family,” he scoffed. “Can’t believe you’re dating a ghost and you’re like, the most normal one.”

“Debatable.”

“Okay, one of the most normal ones.”

You nodded towards the approaching house. “Get it out of your system now, there’s the front door.”

A serene smile spread across his face. “I’m done, and I’m perfectly nice now and will not bring any of that up for the rest of the afternoon.”

You had barely finished knocking when the front door swung open, Seohyuk on the other side. Your stepbrother immediately went to hug you. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hi, Seohyuk. Wouldn’t miss it.” You patted his back. “Can’t believe she’s a year old already.”

“I know,” he sighed wistfully. Letting you go, he turned to Jisung, mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m Seohyuk, Y/N’s brother. Jisung, right?”

“Yes, it’s great to see you again.” Your ghost accepted his handshake.

You mouthed ‘cool it’ over Seohyuk’s shoulder at Jisung’s way too enthusiastic greeting, and he immediately reworked his expression, relaxing his face a bit more. Seohyuk stepped back and gestured you two inside, closing the door behind you. He guided you further in, pointing to where Jisung could put down the gift bag he had been carrying.

Chaeyeon spotted you from where she had been chatting with a few other guests, excusing herself before darting over to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “Y/N!”

“Chaeyeon!” You laughed, hugging her back. “We just got tea last week.”

“Yes, I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t be excited to see you now.”

You turned around to where Jisung was awkwardly standing a couple steps behind you and latched onto his arm, dragging him over. “Chaeyeon, this is my boyfriend Jisung. Jisung, this is my sister-in-law Chaeyeon.”

She was absolutely cheesing as she turned to Jisung, stacking both hands over her chest as she was trying to contain her excitement. “Can I hug you? You can say no, I’m a hugger, but it’s fine, I totally get it.”

“Uhm yeah?” Jisung agreed before nearly being bowled over by Chaeyeon. “Oh!”

You covered your hand in an attempt to stifle your laugh. The hug was fleeting, as Chaeyeon let him go and grabbed your arm again, her face turning serious. She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially, and you had to strain your ears to hear her over the noise of all the other partygoers and children playing.

“Okay, so drinks are in the kitchen—no alcohol since Jieun is recovering, you know. We didn’t think it was necessary since it’s a kid’s birthday anyway. You already know, don’t ask Joohyuk where his wife is. And Minhyuk… for your own sake, don’t ask about his trip to South America unless you want to hear him talk about the spiritual benefits of psychedelics for two hours straight,” she debriefed you quietly. “Here, I’ll introduce you guys to some of my friends from the mom pilates class that I attend; they’re cool, I promise!”

With that, Chaeyeon took off, leaving you to catch up. You grabbed Jisung’s hand, chuckling as you followed after your sister-in-law.

Later in the party found you sat on the couch, chatting with two of Chaeyeon’s mom-ilates friends. Jisung emerged from the kitchen where he had been getting plates of food for the both of you, looking flustered as he dropped into the empty spot next to you.

“Finally,” you commented, accepting your plate from him. “What took you so long? Was there a line for the pretzels?”

“Minhyuk cornered me,” he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I didn’t even ask about Peru, I told him you were waiting but that just made it worse. As soon as I brought you up, he started saying something about how when he was tripping, he realized how terrible they all were to you, and he started crying? I really don’t think he’s okay, like mentally…”

You let out a sputtering laugh, rubbing Jisung’s shoulder sympathetically. “Sounds rough, Sungie.”

“Leechan!” One of the moms suddenly barked out her son’s name, shooting to her feet. She shot you an annoyed look before stomping off to grab a boy from a tussle that had broken out.

The other mom that had been with you let out a sigh as she calmly finished her last bite of cake before setting her plate down and getting up as well. “Ryujin! That’s it! We’re going!”

“Remember how you asked me if I wanted kids?” You asked Jisung quietly, making sure to turn your head so only he heard you.

“Mhm?” His voice wavered.

“Yeah, no,” you scoffed. “I’ll be Aunt Y/N for the rest of my life, thanks.”

He snickered, rubbing your back. “That’s—”

Jisung suddenly froze, his eyes going wide and snapping down to the floor in front of the couch. You looked down to see what had startled him, immediately spotting your niece clambering over his feet and attempting to climb up his legs.

“SooSoo, your Uncle Jisung is not a jungle gym,” Seohyuk chastised his daughter lightly, scooping her up in his arms.

The toddler giggled, babbling as she still reached her chubby little arms out towards your ghost.

“Do you want to hold her?” Your stepbrother offered.

Jisung looked at you hesitantly. You chuckled, reaching for his plate on his lap. “Do you, Sungie? It’s okay if you don’t, but I can hold your plate for you if you want.”

“Sure?” He opened his arms as you moved the food, clearing the way for Seohyuk to deposit the birthday girl there.

“Relax, Jisung,” Seohyuk laughed. “She won’t bite. Probably.” He perked up and turned around as his name was called from across the room. “Yeah, coming, Mom!”

That left you, Jisung, and SooSoo. You poked your niece’s belly, making her laugh, the sound ringing through the air like bells. She reached for Jisung again, this time succeeding in grabbing the chain that was hanging around his neck and yanking on it. He jerked forward with it in surprise.

“Ah, gentle, sweet,” you reminded her, fishing the rest of his necklace from under his collar. He was able to sit up straight again as SooSoo was fascinated by the starburst pendant, which matched the ring on your own finger.

“She’s so…”

“Big?” You suggested humorously, playing with the single tuft of hair tied up on top of her head that reminded you of a leek. You were thinking about the first time you saw her after she was born, when she was just a few pounds, compared to now.

“Little,” Jisung finished, his voice quiet but filled with awe.

You looked at him a little funny, scooting in closer to continue your conversation at a lower volume. “You were there when the Kims were all babies, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really there,” he murmured. “And they were kinda… I don’t know, boring. They were babies, they didn’t do anything. I don’t think I learned their names until they could talk.”

You laughed much louder than you had been talking, drawing a couple passing glances. Burying your face in Jisung’s shoulder to muffle yourself, you were easily able to picture a disinterested, aloof ghost Jisung turning up his nose at a “boring” baby Seohyuk asleep in a crib. As tears eked out the sides of your eyes, you felt your ghost drop a kiss to the top of your head, the curl of his smile evident.

That night, you were happy and bone-achingly tired, but some part of your brain couldn’t seem to get the memo. With a sigh, you opened your nightstand drawer, rooting around for your bottle of sleeping meds.

Jisung shuffled out of bed. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

The bedroom door opened, stairs squeaked, and distantly, in the dead silence of the house, you could hear the kitchen faucet. Then, the stairs squeaked again, and Jisung closed the door behind him. As you sat up to accept the cup from him, you squinted at him inquisitively.

“Did you use the door?”

He looked back at the door, blinking hurriedly as he belatedly realized what happened. “Yeah, I did. I guess I was practicing so much to make sure I didn’t walk through anything in front of your family that I forgot.”

As he climbed back into bed, you knocked back the pill and set your water aside. Ruffling Jisung’s hair, you smiled at him fondly, feeling your chest swell. “Thank you, Sungie. I love you so much. I know that all this must be so hard and scary, and you’ve been doing so much for me. Really, thank you.”

“Ah, Y/N,” he chuckled nervously, ducking his head. He picked up your hand, though, playing with your fingers as he spoke, eyes focused on your entwined hands. “Thank you. I’m… You made me real. I know we don’t know for sure what’s going on, but that’s what I believe.”

“Real?” You echoed tentatively.

His hand phased through yours, a chill zipping up your arm, then he turned solid again, fingertips skimming over your pulse point on your wrist. “I’m not human again. I-I don’t know if I ever will be. I don’t want to get our hopes up. But I’m more than I was before you.”

You grabbed his hand, wrapping yours around the back of it and closing all of his fingers except his pointer. “You’re enough for me no matter what you are, Jisung.” You lifted your hands to your chest, drawing an X over your heart. “If we woke up tomorrow and you were incorporeal again, you’d still be the love of my life.”

“You’re the love of my life and afterlife.” Jisung pulled your hands over to him, drawing one leg of the X on ‘life’ and the other on ‘afterlife.’ “Cross my heart.”

“No fair pulling the afterlife card,” you teased, using your other hand to drag him into a kiss.

He kissed you unhurriedly, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers. When you broke away for air, he squeezed your hand, tender gaze tracing over your features. “Guess I’ll always love you more, then.”

“Nuh-uh!” You retorted childishly, even as you were beginning to struggle with keeping your eyes open.

“Getting sleepy?” He asked smugly.

“Maybe.”

“Lay down, I’ll read to you.”

“Fine, but you didn’t win.”

“Alright, alright,” he hummed, reaching for the book on his nightstand. Settling down under the covers, you let your eyes close as Jisung began reading. Your ghost’s deep voice gently started lulling you to sleep as he kept one hand clasped with yours, resting over your heart.

⤷ masterlist

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal

@sofipolii01

@winkeuu

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withleeknow · 1 year ago

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remedy.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.

you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.

you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.

you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.

a frown that matches his own.

baby, you think, what’s wrong?

even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.

it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.

"hmm?"

"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.

you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.

even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."

it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.

"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.

you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."

"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.

"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."

"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."

"yeah, that sounds nice."

"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"

he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"

"min-"

"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."

you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?

you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.

his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.

he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.

"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.

"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.

"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities.

his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."

"but it's better now?"

"much better, now that you’re here."

truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.

it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.

you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.

"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.

"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."

his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.

but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.

i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.

pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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wonustars · 1 year ago

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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

Read More Here.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice.

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown.

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest.

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun.

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation.

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks.

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away.

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger.

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes. His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere.

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful?

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy.

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

#jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan fic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #do you remember the time?#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {fics: do you remember the time}#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

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skzdust · 7 months ago

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Room 514

Part 1

This fic is the result of 1. Me going on a road trip and 2. A poll I did on here! I have the trip back coming up in a few days so I might do another poll to decide what I write on the way back lol!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: slow burn (if I have the patience to write it slow lol), college au, roommates, besties with skz, gender neutral reader (if smut happens reader will be afab)

Word count: 1.3k

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

——-

The lock to room 514 beeped, its LED turning green, and you moved your phone away. You took a breath and turned the handle.

You didn’t need to worry. The suite’s living room was empty. The decoration gave you hope, though; it was neat and decorated mostly in shades of blue, with a sunny yellow cover on the couch. You hoped it was like this all the time and not just because you were moving in today.

The suite had four single bedrooms, two half bathrooms, one shower, and a living room with a mini-fridge and microwave. You’d been living in a different hall just a few days ago, sharing a room with another girl, Catherine. She’d been awful ever since you’d walked in on her cheating on her boyfriend with another guy, spreading rumors and turning all your friends against you. You’d pleaded with your RA for a single room, and she’d helped you find a suite in another hall. It was a room with three guys, which made you a little anxious, but you’d jumped at the chance nonetheless.

“Hello?” You said, a little louder than you usually would speak.

Nothing.

You found room D, your room, in the hallway to the left. Room C, next door, had a handwritten sign beside the “C”: “Han Jisung.”

One of your roommates. You knew the others were named Changbin and Bang Chan, but you hadn’t met any of the three.

You pressed your phone to the lock on room D and walked in.

The room was small and bare, but you smiled at the fact that you’d have your own space at all. A lofted bed with plenty of storage space underneath was against the back wall, next to a desk and chair, and a tall chest of drawers was beside the closet.

You climbed up on the bed to look out the window. You had a rather ugly view of the parking lot, but the window faced South, so at least you’d get plenty of light.

There was a loud knock behind you.

You whirled around, almost falling off the bed. Potentially the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life was leaning in your doorway, a grin on his face. “You must be y/n!”

“Yeah, that’s… me.” You said with a little laugh. “And you’re…?”

“Jisung.” His smile grew. “Han Jisung.”

You hopped off the bed. “Jisung. You’re next door!”

“Yeah! Me and Changbin and Bang Chan are excited to have another roommate, it’s been just the three of us for a while.”

“Well, I’m kind of escaping a situation at the moment, so I’m looking forward to a fresh start, too.” You tried not to let your thoughts of Catherine make you angry.

“Well, you’re always welcome to hang out with us.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”

“Actually, we’re having some people over tonight.” He raised his eyebrows. “Chill with us, if you don’t have to study or anything. We’re gonna watch Love Island.”

You grinned. “Love Island? Seriously?”

“How can you not love stupid reality TV with a bunch of hot people?” Jisung held his hands up. “Just saying, just saying. We’re probably gonna order pizza, too, if that helps convince you.”

“Not judging, just wasn’t expecting it.” You shrugged. “But yeah, I don’t have anything going on tonight, that sounds fun!”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help moving stuff in?”

“I think I’ve got it.” You waved your hand. “Just some stuff in the hallway.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you want help.”

“I will.”

He gave a lazy salute. “See you tonight!” He pushed off the doorway and twirled into the hall, and you heard his door click shut.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sending up a silent prayer. Please, please, please let him be single.

—

You stood in the center of the room, doing a little circle and judging it cute enough to be finished.

You’d been unpacking and decorating for a few hours, but the sounds of people in the living room had started about an hour ago, so you’d slowed down. You wanted to see Jisung again, but you were a bit anxious to meet his friends, as well as your other two roommates.

But there were only so many times you could rearrange your books or organize your clothes, and you knew it was a good idea to go out and join the party.

You checked your reflection in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, smoothing your hair, and left your room.

There were eight people in the living room of the suite, the only one you recognized being Jisung. And… wait, was that the guy you’d been on a project with in music technology last year? Hwang Hyunjin?

“Y/n!” Jisung jumped up from the couch when he saw you, beaming. “Guys, this is our new roommate!”

“Y/n?” The guy you were 99% sure was Hyunjin said, tilting his head. “I know you! We did a project together.”

“Yeah! I remember that! It’s Hyunjin, right?”

He smiled softly. “Yeah, Hyunjin. Nice to meet you again!”

You tried to remember back to the project. You’d loved the class, and you remembered the project going well. Hyunjin had been great to work with, doing his share of the planning and the legwork. You’d found him cute then, too, but freshman year you’d been even more timid, and you hadn’t made a move. You were kind of glad for that now, though.

Because Jisung was walking across the room to you, and standing right next to you, and you almost missed what he started to say because you could smell whatever cologne he used, and it smelled good.

“Okay, around the room we have...” He pointed at each of the guys. “Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin, you know Hyunjin, Felix, Bang Chan, he’s one of our roommates, and Changbin, he’s our other roommate.” He pointed to himself. “And you know me. Jisung.”

You nodded at each name, doing your best to match them to faces. “Got it. I’m decent with names, so I’ll do my best.”

Jisung bumped your shoulder, and you giggled. “I’m sure you’ve got it.” He made a shooing motion at Seungmin, who was sitting on the floor. “Pizza’s behind Seungmin.”

“What kind?”

“There’s pepperoni and there’s cheese.” Seungmin picked up a plate. “Here, I can grab you a slice, what do you want?”

“Just a slice of cheese, thanks.”

Seungmin handed Jisung the plate, and he made a little mock bow before holding it out to you. You smiled, taking it. “Thank you, butler.”

“Of course, my liege.” He winked, and a cloud of butterflies took flight in your chest.

“Nice to meet you, y/n!” Changbin leaned over the back of his chair and extended his hand. You shook it.

“Changbin, right?”

“Mhm. Roommates!”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded.

“He sings a lot. You can tell him to shut up if you need to.” Bang Chan grinned. “I’m Bang Chan, I’m your other roommate.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t mind singing.”

“I mean, he has a decent enough voice, but it’s… frequent.” Jisung widened his eyes as he nodded. “Quite frequent.”

“Oh, come on.” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You all should be honored that you get to hear my singing. I’m gonna be recognized for my talent someday!”

“He also raps.” Jeongin added. “I’m sure you’ll hear that, too.”

“I’m an even better of a rapper than I am a singer!” He pointed around the room. “Feel honored!”

Felix held a hand to his chest. “We all feel so honored. All hail the most beautiful voice, Changbin!”

“That’s more like it!”

You laughed with the rest of them. This group felt more comfortable than you’d ever felt with your old friends, and you couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving in with Changbin, Bang Chan, and Jisung was meant to be.

#stray kids #hyunjin #han #bang chan #felix #changbin #seungmin #i.n #lee know #Han x reader #han jisung x reader #Han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skzdust writes #room 514

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ybklix · 7 months ago

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𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ pairing: ceo!leeminho x fem!reader part four

part one / part two / part three

✦summary: Minho gives you a place in an agency you've always dreamed of, which will boost your professional and artistic career, but he can't bear to be away from you when your schedule changes drastically, which drives him crazy as he sees you provoking him with your slightly obnoxious partner from your new internship, and your persistent best friend.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / fluff / established relationship / fingering / oral sex / creampie / choking

word count: 14.4k

a/n: idk why so many w.c. i’m sorry, i literally had a writer’s block lol and procrastinated all week

It was not part of your plans to have a boyfriend, or to fall in love, much less with a mature man in his thirties. Reality hit you when you were having a nice date night on the beach, when Minho had to leave for an important call. You looked around, you hadn't realized the drastic change in your life, when if just two weeks ago you were crying in your room full of shame for even considering asking your parents for money and… suddenly you had it all. You bit your lower lip and looked at Minho from a distance, age was the least important thing about him, he was wonderful, he gave you fantastic sex and spoiled you every five minutes; in the moments so quiet for both of you when he is on his phone he suddenly speaks and tells you he saw a very nice dress and bought it for you, just like that, he would blurt it out as something so normal and never failed to surprise you when a small gift from him to you, turns out to be something incredibly expensive.

You examined him, his broad back and the attractive way he was running his hand behind his head, you thought it was a serious call because of his tense position, still you kept thinking how cute he looked.

Minho came over and sat back down, whispering a small “I'm sorry.” You asked him if everything was okay to which he nodded with a tender little smile. After minutes he stopped eating and gave you a long look.

“You have to enjoy your last few days working with me, I'm going to miss you being around” he said, his comment puzzled you too much that he could read it on your face immediately to which he continued, “Because starting Monday you'll be training at that acting agency.”

You opened your eyes a little stupefied, Minho had told you that he would support you in your professional career and that he would do everything possible to see you succeed to which you silenced him by whispering a yes and kissing him slowly, since you had thanked him and started to say that it wasn't necessary to which he immediately interrupted you arguing that he would do it anyways, but he hadn't given you in detail his plan.

“What, you hadn't told me…?”

“Really?” he spoke in a high pitched tone paying it no mind as he looked at the food, “I thought I told you that night.”

You shook your head softly. The news shocked you, yet you relaxed your expression, remembering that in such a short time Minho had given you so much and yes… in a way your relationship was a sugar daddy dynamic, but he made it clear to you that you should never feel ashamed to receive money from him because his intentions were merely focused on you and things that were going to benefit you, he didn't expect to receive anything bigger in return than a simple thank you or a kiss every time he came with something new for you, but it's clear that… you love intimacy with him so much that thanking him in that way wasn't bad for both of you.

“It's at the agency of…” you spoke more animatedly, lost in his bright eyes unable to finish the sentence, but he nodded softly.

“You know it is, the best in the country where all those successful and talented actors come out of nowhere” he replied.

You denied gently not being able to understand him, “But it's very hard to get in and…” you wanted to keep talking, but you realized that arguing wouldn't do any good, it was already done for Minho, “Thank you” you told him with a tender smile, he saw you the same way.

“It's nothing” he added proudly.

“Now I feel bad because I didn't know what to get you so I just brought you a cake” you said softly as you waved your hand animatedly towards the waitress who was sitting retired from you in case you were offered something else, you gestured to her indicating to bring the cake and candles for Minho.

He laughed softly and his eyes lit up as he saw the cake in front of him.

“You shouldn't have…”

“It's not a birthday without cake and candles,” you interrupted him.

His smile widened and he leaned in a little to tell you, “Come here, I want you to blow out the candles with me” you saw him pat his thigh.

You blushed a little and agreed to sit on his lap, turning your back to him, you were both on the terrace of his beach house, with a view of the sea so the wind moved your hair slightly, causing Minho to gently push it aside so as not to obstruct his view.

“I'll stay here but you have to be the one to blow out the candles” you added, as you lit the candles, hoping the wind wouldn't blow them out.

Minho gently caressed your back uncovered by your blouse and then let his hands fall on your bare thighs, thinking that he needed no other wish but to be with you, somewhat corny for him, but he couldn't ask for anything better than to hold you in his arms and kiss your lips… he thought humorously that maybe deep down, he wished he was less jealous when it comes to you, his hairs bristling and his blood feeling heavy every time he thought of you and the idea of another man around. Minho was engrossed in how tender you looked with your eyes shining at the sight of the cake and keeping the unquenched candles intact, which he awkwardly let out a light puff blowing them out and not taking his eyes off you. You felt his triggered gaze on you and found him with a relaxed and tender expression, it was hard for you to accept that a few weeks ago you were a stranger and he looked at you in a particular way with contempt and now it was the opposite, when you were not lost in desire and lust, he looked at you so softly and delicately.

You averted your gaze nervously and turned your body again, for a second, terrified of liking him more if that was even possible.

“Mmm, I also brought you something else, it's very small it's just that I seriously didn't know what to give you” you commented to him in a sharp tone.

And it wasn't a lie, you had no idea what to give to a man who had everything materially speaking and if he didn't have it he could buy it for him without a problem… besides you weren't the type of girl to write a letter and to say cheesy things to his face when you had no idea what to buy him… besides you tried to be realistic, the man was turning thirty, not eighteen.

“I told you it was okay by me this way without giving me something…”

You ignored Minho's words, leaning into your bag abruptly, brushing a little against his still-quiet bulge, still making him moan softly. And you took from there a small, elongated box, biting your lip unsure that it was such an insignificant object and didn't compare to the millions of won he spent daily on you with clothes or something else expensive. You settled your body on his lap, laying it sideways in front of him, your back now turned to the beautiful beach scenery. You handed it with uncertainty to Minho, who took it with joy, not caring what it was about, it was a small detail coming from you and that was enough for him, since Minho recognized that he was totally the provider of the relationship and he could not agree more with that; it was enough for him to see you happy, without worries, arranged for him wearing diamonds and luxurious clothes, raising glances and sighs from other rich women of his social circle who did not know of your existence.

Minho wrapped his arms around your body and opened it in front of you and, before he could even analyze what was inside, you hurried to say:

“It's small and silly I know, but you can use it… when you're in important meetings, plus it has your initials on it, it's totally yours.”

Minho let out a small chuckle at your reaction and was quick to see that it was a sleek black and gold pen with his initials LMH engraved small on the top of the object. Minho smiled broadly.

“This is what I'll sign our wedding papers with?” he commented amused looking at you.

You blinked in confusion at his sudden comment, “What?” you said.

Minho let out a small laugh again now slightly nervous and averted his gaze to the small gift, closing the box and leaving it on the table to place his hands on your thighs.

“Thank you” he murmured sweetly, moving closer to your lips to trap them in a tender kiss that made your ears burn.

“I should have given you something else…” you stammered disappointedly pouting slightly.

“You can always give me something else…” he whispered slowly squeezing your thighs and bringing his right hand up to your panties.

He had been specific with you, not wearing anything under your skirt other than your underwear, he picked you out the cute outfit that matched his own, acting like a complete sweetheart. You pressed your lips together tightly feeling your body temperature rise knowing that Minho wanted to touch you.

“You haven't shown me how grateful you are to get into the agency, wasn't it your dream?” he spoke again seductively close to your ear.

You nodded and closed your legs a little in reflex as you felt his fingertips brush your folds and squeeze your clitoris, Minho's hand was lost between your legs, covering only a small part of it by your tiny skirt.

“Show me how grateful you are to me…”

Minho continued to tease you, touching you through the thin fabric of your underwear, this time making you moan as your pussy was beginning to throb and grow wet at his fine touch.

“Minho, no please… she’s watching us” you tried to say as calmly as possible, a little scared as you realized you had the waitress in front of you a few meters away.

Minho let out a haughty laugh and looked vaguely in the direction of his employee.

“I don't think she's watching us.”

“Yes, Minho, s-stop” you spoke haltingly as you felt his delicious circular motions on your sensitive spot.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me to stop and I'll stop” he demanded authoritatively.

But you couldn't do that, his gentle rubbing became a little rougher moving and stimulating your labia as you felt his huge erection grow and touch your ass.

“Well to me you seem to be enjoying it” he said again even more smugly, “Then turn around princess, so you can turn your back on her if you care so much” he whispered.

You did it instantly, you were so excited and embarrassed that you couldn't see the poor waitress, so you just decided to fall into Minho's lap turning your back to the girl, looking out to sea. Now your concern would be anyone who decided to walk on the beach at night, but it was almost impossible, the nights were somewhat cold and strangely the place was perfectly empty. Minho was surprised by your sudden movement, pulling his hands away in confusion and let out a slight moan as he felt you sit on his erect cock drowning in his pants, instantly heeding him so he could continue playing with your pussy.

“Look at you, paying attention to me so I can touch your needy pussy” he growled haughtily.

You were so turned on by his touch and cocky tone, you couldn't even respond to him, other than just rolling your eyes annoyed that he was right and that you needed him now. You spread your legs a little wider giving him better access to your wet entrance to which Minho bit his lip, and stimulated your center through the fabric of your panties, Minho's breathing became ragged, he was becoming insane from not having your pussy in his mouth, he touched every inch of your folds, stretching your panties to feel the pressure on your wet pussy, making you moan, he enjoyed every moment of his fingers sliding on your labia and your sobs full of pleasure, finally he stuck two of his fingers smoothly into your tight hole making you whimper. Fuck, you needed him so badly, you were so aroused that staying still on his lap was not enough, you would want to take his fingers yourself, as you sensed the slow play in which Minho was touching you. Minho couldn't stand the thought of his cock suffocating in his pants but it made him hornier to watch your body squirm trying to regain your posture, he continued to finger you, paying attention to your clitoris with his thumb, completely prioritizing your pleasure as he energetically watched with his eyebrows slightly raised every little contraction stimulating his cock.

“Kiss me” he requested needily as he saw your parted lips emitting sounds of pleasure.

You joined your lips, in a dirty kiss feeling the inside of each other's mouths, making you more aroused, Minho licked your lips as he parted from you and looked at you completely blinded in lust, finally intensifying his skillful movements with his hand, making you startle and whimper more, fucking you deeply with his fingers so well that you ended up cumming in them. Minho grinned mischievously and abruptly pulled his digits out of you, taking them into your mouth covered in your fluid.

“Sweet cake frosting” he whispered, making you laugh as you took his hand with both of yours and sucked his fingers hard erotically looking into his eyes, making his cock throb harder as his imagination flew.

“Fuck, princess, let's go inside now” he gasped.

[...]

You skipped that day of school, however upon returning to the city your head could only think of your best friend that you hadn't had genuine contact with in long days, you were a bit sad that you decided you needed advice from another friend who may have gone through the same thing, falling in love with a rich older man after a chance encounter.

That day you returned to the city during the morning and Minho went straight to his office to work, barely paying attention to you; everyone at work speculated that you had something going on with Minho, you being always the last one to leave —since you waited for Minho and uselessly hoped no one would see you enter his office so often— and you always coincidentally came in together, but you didn't care, you were going to stop coming in on Monday and you had concluded your work by seeing Minho's work schedule and confirming that he was very busy… so you were bored in your chair, your very senior colleagues clearly judged you and did not approach to talk to you so much, so, not knowing what to do, you decided to try to talk to Felix in order to rescue your friendship a little bit; at the same time you texted Hari so you could see each other to talk as soon as possible.

Felix didn't respond to you all day, hurting you a bit as it was obvious he was ignoring you since he kept updating his social media. And Hari seemed to like talking on the phone today, to which you told her you wanted to see her in person so she agreed to do so the next day.

That afternoon when everyone left, you headed to Minho's office, ready to go in, but you stopped your hand on the doorknob when you heard him yelling in what you assumed was a phone call, you didn't want to interrupt and stood unsure at the door whether to go in or not…. to which you were determined to do so once you stopped hearing his voice indicating that he had hung up the call, but Minho stepped forward opening the door with force and coming out of his office with his suit jacket in his hand and advanced quickly in search of you, to which you hurried to follow him, catching his attention by the noise of your heels, smiling and relaxing his countenance at the mere sight of you.

“There you are” he said happily.

You took his hands and noticed his tired and tense face even though he was smiling.

“Shall we go?” you whispered to him tilting your head to which he nodded.

Once inside the car in the back of it, Minho squeezed your hand and turned to look at you to say as he let out a sigh, “Don't you want to stay at my place?”

“Only because you look tired and stressed, you need to rest” you replied raising the corners of your lips in a small smile.

“If you'll stay because I'm tired, then I'm tired every day, will you come take care of me?”

Your smile got bigger and you moved closer to him to caress his chest, his cute big round eyes suddenly looked droopy so you couldn't stand to see him like that.

“You really look stressed” you reiterated now worried.

“Yeah, I'm sorry it's just…” he grimaced, “it's the last few months and I'm working hard to close the year well with the company and start a new one…” you nodded listening to him carefully and thinking he had nothing to apologize for, “But luckily I have the best stress remover…” he murmured tilting his head and giving you kisses on your neck while his free hand pressed your thigh, “Do you want to fuck tonight?” he asked now in a low voice close to your ear, bristling your skin.

His voice and touch made you weak in seconds but… you thought it would be a very good way to help your boyfriend, but there were little things like that you had thought about all night and… you also wanted a quiet and sweet relationship where it's not necessary to fuck every day, even though you would do it with Minho every day at any time if you wanted to, still, you didn't want to look like or become addicted.

You shook your head softly.

“Let's go get you to sleep” you added firmly, looking him in the eyes and holding back all your dirty thoughts and the huge desire you will always have for Minho.

“Okay” he sighed slightly exasperated, “But let's go to dinner first, are you hungry?” he mentioned in a more relaxed and sharp tone, giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

Minho didn't wait for your answer and let the driver know the change of direction for both of you to go to dinner. You finally had dinner, walked around a bit and arrived at Minho's house, who upon stepping into his foyer, threw his coat and removed his tie in despair, whimpering exhausted and also threw the fabric of it away. You watched the scene, finding it incredibly attractive and were surprised by his grip on your waist.

“You want to shower in the master bathroom and I'll do it in the other one?” Minho spoke.

He had understood perfectly that you didn't want to have sex so he saved himself from seducing you and offering to take a shower together, besides he did feel tired, in any case that you change your mind, for him it would be wonderful if you took control this time and you were the one who fuck him, jumping on his cock.

But you thought for a few seconds, admiring the closeness of his face to yours, you hadn't kissed properly since the morning before you got out of the car and pretended to get to work first, you and then him, at different times. And you spent a while ago having dinner and talking all the time, without him even taking the time to get dangerously and romantically close to your face, Minho wanted to know absolutely everything about his girlfriend, so he had fun asking question after question until he sweetly knew the silliest detail, as was the age when you taught yourself to ride a bike, or more important things, like your career choice, your parents's opinion, your story and more deep conversation.

“Mmm, it's not okay for me, I can use the other bathroom” you replied.

“No, no” he regretted, “Do it in the main one in my room, don't worry, there's everything for you in my closet” he sentenced, giving you a little kiss on your forehead, he pulled away and hurried to shed his clothes in search of a quick relief.

You swayed on your own place, feeling a little strange to see his silhouette disappearing far away to another room you didn't know at all, so far you knew his house very well but you were still missing certain little places. You hurried to take a bath, totally unconcerned that Minho would see you in your pajamas and without makeup, in such a short time you had already built that trust, it was inevitable, you were spending more and more time together but, sadly everything was going to change in a few days since Minho gave you details that it would be after your university schedule and you recognized that there was no specific departure time because sometimes it was normal to stay late to practice…. still as you were new, the best case scenario is that your schedule would end at the same time Minho was supposed to leave his office…. but, on busy days like these for Minho, you could at least see him while you were being driven to the company, while he was walking outside his office or when you had to compulsorily accompany him to his meetings, but for now no more Minho which frustrated you, you just started to be his girlfriend and your time was starting to be delimited, you couldn't help it, you wanted to be cloying and be with him all the time, it felt so good to be by his side.

It made you tender to realize that Minho had taken it very seriously to make you feel at home, he had clothes for you, space in his big closet exclusively for you and little things like shampoo, lotion, brush for your hair, dryer, you couldn't process at what point it occurred to him to compulsively buy everything, just from one day to the next everything was there, like your sudden feelings for each other. You stood watching the outside through his incredibly long bedroom window, giving you the view of the large yard and area surrounded by tall trees, you sighed at the thought that your boyfriend was very different from you but still you were both in that sweet initiation stage where everything seems optimistic.

You felt the sound of the door and turned around the second, finding Minho in his comfy cotton pajamas wearing only his pants, his chest and abdomen bare as he shook his hair with one hand.

“I can finally go to bed” he sighed as he looked at you.

You honestly weren't sleepy yet, but there was nothing better than trying to fall asleep cuddled up to him. You approached Minho, who sat on his bed ready to lay down, but didn't do so until you sat the bed as well, he pulled the big sheets aside to cover himself and you, who happily looked for a place close to his body where you would feel comfortable once you lay down. Minho loudly indicated to turn off the lights to his speaker, surprising you a bit since on tired days when you don't want to get up to turn off the light, something like that was a great help and, as if he had read your mind he said to you:

"Do you feel good in your apartment? Don't you want to move?"

The question caught you by surprise, wishing you could look him straight in the eyes but you were so comfortable curled up on his bare chest feeling his soft breathing and your skin touching with your cheek.

“I'm fine, it's a place I know too well to move” you replied.

Minho started playing with your hair, stroking it.

“Well at least let me do something for you… how about tomorrow we go shopping so you have new clothes to wear to the agency?”

“I'm good” you smiled at him.

You didn't know if truly a way for him to show affection was the gifts or if he just gave them to you because of the way he met you and directly related your relationship based on that. You were still very grateful, but sometimes you felt so guilty even though Minho was absurdly rich, he ran a snack company all over the country and 10 other countries.

"I want you to look radiant and... I hear myself that the other young people there are a bit… you know” you heard him say.

You knew exactly what he meant, they were a bunch of spoiled rich adults who were taught a little discipline going in there, all you knew was that they were sorted by age and being a major company opened up so many casting opportunities for you. You were so nervous that you could only agree with Minho.

"Okay… but you're really busy on Thursday, I think Friday you're more available."

“Now you know my whole schedule?” he added in a sharp, mocking tone.

“Sure I do, I plan it” you replied, letting your hand rest on his chest.

He laughed lightly, letting his body relax completely and closing his eyes slowly, he was so calm with you that, before he fell into a deep sleep quickly, Minho whispered:

“Good night, y/n.”

[…]

The next morning was not the same, you missed a little bit your old routine of arriving with Felix, going to breakfast together and talking about anything around. You felt like you gained something but at the same time you lost something important, you finally felt loved romantically and you could give that love to him too… but you felt it wasn't fair to lose the affection Felix had for you. You knew you made a mistake by telling him you liked him too, you were so frustrated that you thought that's exactly why you never liked getting too involved.

Felix answered your message late, you didn't want to insist anymore so you looked for him where you knew exactly where his class was, an act he would do, go find you. There were still a few minutes to go and there was still no one inside so you waited nervously at the entrance outside the auditorium until you saw his long blond hair pass through the hallway, he saw you and his countenance became more serious, you smiled at him, happy to see him while waving your hand, but your smile faded when you saw his expression. And he walked up to you, looking as handsome and smelling as good as ever.

“Hi” you said shyly trying to catch his eye.

Felix was looking down at the floor and seemed a bit annoyed.

“Hi” he replied curtly.

He finally looked into your eyes, you felt a relief to see them. You hadn't seen his big eyes in days, a new record for you guys, because even when he went on vacation, you did video calls all the time. That's when you realized that… maybe you had screwed up too much, you should never have treated him like a boyfriend, now the poor guy was paying the consequences. It was always all about him and suddenly he felt displaced. After you always told him you weren't ready for a relationship, suddenly you had one with a rich older man, which was hard for him to believe. Felix was really questioning… could a relationship work between a twenty-one year old, still a student, and a man whose life is planned out… he wanted to think that maybe things wouldn't work out so well, and he hated himself to think that he knew he would be there for you anyway if that doesn't manage to work out and disappoints you, he would just be there.

“How are you?” you spoke again not knowing what to say properly.

“Fine” he said again curtly.

You couldn't hold it in any longer and in a short sigh blurted out, “Felix, can we talk?”

Now you would be the one to talk, or something like that.

“I have a class.”

“Can we do it later?” you asked him almost pleadingly.

He watched you for a few long seconds, admiring every part of you that he might never be able to touch again; he nodded.

Then you walked to the other side of the campus to take your class, but you were so distracted, when you finished, you almost ran once more across to the other end to see Felix, but the place was completely empty, disappointing you, you were catching your breath and ready to leave, until you looked at him at the end of the hallway, with a smirk; he thought with satisfaction that the least you could do for him was to run to find him.

“Want some water?” he spoke more relaxed, back to being his usual Felix self.

You shook your head and quickly regained your posture.

“Where do you want to talk?” you asked him.

Minutes later, you both walked to a coffee shop, where once sitting across from each other you looked at him and realized you hadn't really planned what to say… you just wanted everything to be like before, not treating him like a boyfriend or kissing him, but you wanted to talk to him again about some terrible movies, go for lunch, have your movie nights… you felt like you were about to end a non-existent love relationship in a coffee shop. But what a cliché, you thought.

“Felix… just… I want you back.”

“You broke up with Minho?” replied Felix trying to hide his mild enthusiasm as he gazed nonchalantly into his coffee.

You knew coffee made Felix anxious; but you didn't suppress him this time like you always usually do. Felix thought this encounter was frantic enough, so adding it more with the feeling the coffee gave him, could make him immune, to a broken heart.

“No” you whispered.

Felix pursed his full lips in disappointment and continued to watch his hands intertwined in the hot cup.

“I want us to stay friends and” you rolled your eyes, just like Minho, you hated to apologize when you knew it was sincere and you had to admit your mistake, after all you were both born under the same zodiac sign, “sorry, really. I know I said something important to you when we were, you know, in a vulnerable moment."

Your gaze was submissive, begging for forgiveness. Felix smiled sideways in disbelief.

“Important to me? You mean it was nothing to you” he finely raised his gaze to you, seeing his dark eyes from a look of him you didn't know, such was hatred, “You know… you never answered my question, you just said crap like you couldn't leave him, like you were tied to him” he mumbled.

You frowned, stammering confused as to what he meant.

“That if you love him” Felix spoke again.

You took a sigh. That was the question he was referring to, and your answer was simple and honest, even if it hurt him to hear it.

“Yes.”

Felix pressed his lips together again and lowered his gaze again to his drink… he could hear and notice the sincerity with which you said it, that he had nothing more to say. It was silent for at least 2 long and tedious minutes, but you also didn't want to say anything and ruin it any more than it was. Felix pondered too much, he couldn't admit it and thought he could never do it, but he loved you the same way you loved Minho and you couldn't reciprocate to him, his mind was a continuous internal battle, still, he sighed, looked up and managed to say:

"Y/n… I need to think well, don't expect me to be well from one day to the next. But, I seriously don't want to be away from you."

You smiled gently at him and nodded, you were relieved that he looked a little calmer.

[…]

“You told him you loved Minho” Hari emphasized what you just told her, you nodded, “You broke the poor boy's heart.”

“Don't say that” you replied.

“And you do love him?” she spoke more seriously to which you looked her straight in the eyes and nodded again, “Wow, I didn't expect that from you between him and you.”

“That's why I'm here, isn't it the same for you with Chan?”

Hari was silent for a moment to which you panicked that you might have said something wrong.

“Chan and I… it's complicated, I guess I'm a realistic, do you really see me married to a man like Chan, or him to someone like me?”

You noticed the concern on your best friend's face. The afternoon had been busy for Minho just as you predicted and in the evening you told him you would be spending the night at your house as Hari was coming to visit, saying goodbye and kissing for the first time all day as he dropped you off at your house.

“Hari…” you cocked your head to the side and slid down on your couch to pull you closer.

“I'm afraid it's just… I don't know, it's really absurd, we were just supposed to be simple good fucks… but they involved feelings.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, she was starting to speak for both of you and for a second you woke up from your trance, maybe she was right. Still you spoke up.

“But, if Chan really loves you, you have nothing to worry about.”

She let out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Let's be honest, Chan at any time may decide to seek stability in a woman, something I will never be able to give him. In what world do you know the wealthy CEO stays with some random girl out of his league” she looked down ruefully, looking like she finally wanted to get it off her chest. “I'm afraid that being with him would be in vain because it would hurt so much to leave him.”

She was right, instead of helping you she was bringing you back to reality… you had to talk to Minho before you fell in love more, maybe leaving him wouldn't hurt so much. You loved Minho but you weren't sure if he loved you… and everything you had… it was because of him, making you feel bad.

“You have to clear that up with him, you have to know if things are serious so you don't hurt yourself” you told her, “Don't you feel he loves you?” you asked her, curious for an answer since you were completely unaware of being in love.

“He is… very good to me but…” she sighed and let herself fall back against the back of the couch, “maybe my fantasy will end soon and he will have to marry a wealthy and pretty woman with an important last name, his time is running out, his family is putting more and more pressure on him.”

“Oh, Hari, don't say that… what does he say?”

She let out a laugh again, now more animated.

“That we should move to Japan and forget about the people.”

[…]

Friday afternoon, you needed to de-stress, you hated being in love because it was just a constant worry all night and all day you were thinking Minho, Minho, Minho, and not in a sweet way, but in the ideology that your friend had, you were still not even sure if you wanted to marry him but, being with him would be a waste of time if things weren't serious. You were afraid that maybe it would last for years and suddenly… he would have to make his life, procreate a first born to inherit everything and that's when you leave his life after your years dedicated to him… or his years dedicated to you? because he gave you everything

You were so pensive that you didn't even enjoy his sweet lips when he picked you up from your house and greeted you.

Suddenly Minho's secretary brought you out of your thoughts by calling your name.

“Mr. Lee is waiting for you in his office.”

You blushed and nodded in sign of understanding, getting up from your chair and walking towards Minho's office, you could feel the heavy stares of your co-workers watching your every step, they weren't starting to like you at all and even less when their highly attractive boss was showing some extra interest in you.

You entered his office, finding Minho sitting in his elongated couch, relaxed with his legs ajar and the cell phone in his hand, once he saw you, he left the device on the table in front of him and smiled at you, indicating you to come closer with his fingers. You held back a smile, pressing your lips together once you were close to him; he took your hand and guided you to sit on his lap.

“Today is the last day you can be a bad girl and have office sex with your boss” he whispered naughtily in your ear, bristling your skin all over.

“Why did you have to tell your secretary to come see you?” you asked him, playing a little.

“Because I wanted everyone to know that I spoke only to you out of the blue to my office” he replied proudly, starting to kiss your neck with his tight grip on your waist.

“Come on princess, you have to give it your all on your last day, what will you do?”

You looked into his eyes… his gaze was a combination of sweetness and desire, his tender round but sharp eyes full of desire, then you looked at his lips, his perfect thin heart shaped lips… you hadn't had sex with Minho in days and suddenly you realized you desperately needed it.

“I'm going to ride your cock” you said excitedly between your teeth.

You kissed Minho, as you began to rub yourself over his growing bulge, making him moan in between the hot wet kisses you were giving him, Minho groping you, totally willing you to take control and jump on his cock over and over again. You quickly understood that this time he was letting you take control so you lowered your kisses to his neck, increasing his heart rate and making him so hard with your closeness. You unbuttoned his shirt, you were so wet and your pussy was throbbing hard, you wanted to feel his skin as you fucked him so you ran your hand delicately across his bare abdomen biting your lip, moving your hand down to his prominent erection in his pants, Minho moaned at your touch, completely yielding, you wanted to make him feel so good, so you kissed him again to turn on more on each other as you kept squeezing and rubbing his bulge and, once you had to separate to catch your breath, you got down on your knees between his legs, desperately unbuckling his belt and with a little of his help to lift his hips he pull down his pants, exposing his prominent penis sheltered in his underwear, your breath shortened, you were out of breath and your heart was beating twice as fast, Minho was watching you expectantly from above and you raised your gaze to make eye contact as you directed your lips to his erection, tracing soft kisses on it gently, making him gasp and stir in his own place, you continued to tease him, massaging his rigid cock through the fabric until you saw how little droplets of his precum pierced little through the fabric of his underwear, that's when you got rid of it, sighing at the sight of his swollen cock with its notorious veins and its tip so needy and red, you couldn't wait to play with your favorite toy, so with bated breath, you slid his smooth precum liquid all over his length until finally taking his whole cock and starting to play with it and your mouth.

You loved the dynamic of sucking your boyfriend's cock, feeling his entire length by your tongue, gently holding on to his balls, and starting to stimulate it all in your mouth, you sucked his tip hard, making Minho whimper and immediately held your hair so it didn't interrupt the process and he started to thrust you little by little, you were not mentally prepared for your boyfriend's big cock all the way down your throat, but you felt it slowly by Minho's light thrusts and his grunts, taking you to the limit and making you gag immediately. Minho smirked smugly at the scene of you being a complete excited mess, giving your best to please him, you kept enjoying his cock, at a delicious pace for Minho who kept panting mercilessly, not giving a shit that his office is not noise proof. You took your boyfriend's length a couple more times all the way down your throat, watering your eyes completely; but your mouth was exhausted and your muscles tense, to which Minho very thoughtfully, almost on the verge of his orgasm, moaned:

“Come here.”

You withdrew his cock from your mouth, so grotesquely that there was even a loud 'pop' sound as you did so. You sat on one of his thighs, licking your lips and trying to groom yourself.

“Show me how wet you are for me, are you princess?”

You nodded again with a mischievous grin, so glad he decided to touch you. You did your best to lift your tight skirt and spread your legs, Minho noticing your difficulty, he was decided to check for himself by caressing your pussy and squeezing a fingertip of his finger in your entrance, making your sensitive pussy cry more from your boyfriend's touch.

“Fuck, princess, take my cock, ride it now, take it all for me like a good girl, you deserve it” he gasped, almost tasting your soft insides embrace his choking cock.

Your legs trembled, you were at the peak of your sexual arousal and your boyfriend's sizzling voice encouraged you more. You removed your panties quickly to have your access only for him. And slowly you sat on his cock, letting out a cry as you felt your entrance stretch and try to fit the big intruder inside of it. You were halfway down his length and were already starting to whimper, still you continued, thrusting all the way in until you felt the pressure of his testicles in your pussy. You whimpered and held yourself around Minho’s neck and began to gently move in circles, feeling him on your belly.

“Move, baby, c'mon do it” he groaned.

You gasped in pain and pleasure and began to move up and down and back and forth, riding him animatedly, still in pain and pleasure. Minho in desperation and lust, unbuttoned your silk shirt, stripped it off your body and removed your bra as well, to leave your exposed body naked and licked your tits hotly and passionately, while the other hand massaged and squeezed your nipple if it was not being stimulated by his mouth. You gasped more, becoming aroused and feeling your liquid sliding down his member. You rested your hands on his thick strong thighs, urging you to jump, moving your hips feeling your boyfriend's masculinity throbbing in your loins, as he naughtily looked into your eyes with his big round brown eyes in such an innocent way while you two performed such a grotesque act, Minho licked your breasts delicately, gently biting your nipple, but stopped caressing you once you accelerated your movements, faster and deeper, you were about to cum on his hard cock, trembling you tried to lean on Minho's pecs and he in seconds took advantage to start penetrating you hard, lunging you to the fast movement of his hips, your ass pounding all way down to his balls, making your body jump while you started to whimper, you had given everything to fuck him subtly without his cock upsetting you, but suddenly there he was wildly fucking you, raising you to orgasm after a loud moan and spilling on him all your nice and shiny discharge of fluids. Minho continued to thrust you little by little, stirring his cock from deep inside you, still making you whimper for your sensitive insides, until he cum inside you, joining both cum.

Minho stopped moving and allowed you to catch your breath still sitting on his cock, but he, as he parted his body a little to witness the mess you both had made, he became hard inside of you again, you moaned as you felt it. Minho couldn't help himself, it felt so good to be in your tight pussy, the image of your delicate mons pubis with his cock buried in your tight hole and your labia sensitive and open at having him all the way inside.

“I'm going to fuck you now myself, kitten” purred Minho close to your lips.

You only saw him for a few seconds almost begging for mercy as Minho quickly pushed and carried your body gently and positioned you lying down on the couch, from which at least you had a cushion for support on your head. He still inside, lubricated by your each other's liquids, made you spread your tired legs, giving him the spectacular view of what was making him hard, his cock buried in your dilated orifice, and you, helpless and breathless surrendered to him with your eyes of desire, dilated pupils and swollen, glossy lips.

He held you by your waist with his left hand and with the fingers of his right hand began to caress your clitoris, from which your body shuddered and contracted a little. Minho started to move slowly while still giving attention to your sensitive spot with the gentle touch of his fingers, he was penetrating you deeply with constant and gentle movements for a long time, re-warming and preparing your walls and lubricating you more without noticing it.

Minho was 'gentle', as for you, he was fucking you deep making you lose your stability, until he pulled his body closer to you and gave you a dirty kiss, leaving you wanting more of tasting his lips and tongue in your mouth, but he pulled away from you a little still with his body on yours, watching you with a haughty smile knowing damn well what was to come, he withdrew his fingers from your clit and began to ram you at his own pace that made you whimper again, you felt the tip of his cock touch your cervix and his cock bulge in your belly.

“Fuck, kitten, you feel so fucking good taking my cock” Minho groaned.

Minho brought his forehead together with yours, gently brushing your noses as you felt his warm breath and kept ramming you hard, then he pulled his body away and held you by your waist, lifting a little off your hip, he pushed his full length back in, rubbing his cock hard and proud in you and kept pounding you, moving your torso like a ragdoll; you cried, you felt so full, your body writhing with pleasure at the feel of your boyfriend's cock in your core. And when you were so close and Minho felt your walls clench his cock, he gripped your neck tightly with his right hand, moderately choking you. Your gasps flooded the place, you stroked Minho's arm, his notorious veins bulging and without warning, you climaxed in your second orgasm, rolling your eyes and completely blurring your vision, this time making twice as much of a mess as the first time.

Minho bit his lip hard at the sight of your liquid slipping and falling little drops messing up the couch and let go of your neck.

“Fuck, it feels so good, I-I'm gonna cum too” he whimpered.

And he did. Releasing his thick white cum in a shot inside you once again, feeling the warmth of his semen in you.

He pulled out of you, feeling glorious at the scene of your sensitive pussy and your orifice expelling both liquids, Minho could continue fucking you, now in another position, just never get tired of you, but he saw you so tender, so exhausted and with your eyes watering that he decided to stop himself. He leaned over to you and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“That was wonderful, princess, you did great, let me clean you up. Do you need anything else? Water…? Another round…?” he said inches from your face.

After cleaning you up and helping you put on your clothes, when he was ready too, he sat you on his lap and held you like that for a while, feeling his breathing and relaxed while he answered important messages on his phone, at the same time caressing you tenderly. Later you came out of his office, totally disheveled, teary eyes, red cheeks, slightly disheveled hair and slightly messed up makeup, you wanted to go straight to the bathroom to touch up your makeup and go pee, but you had to go to your cubicle for your cosmetic bag so you still raised glances and superstitions in the air. It was undeniable what was going on in that office.

[…]

You had spent the sweetest weekend with Minho, that Saturday he planned to go camping with you, you had no idea, you thought it would be a small camping tent but Minho was more than prepared, he thought you looked cute wearing a plaid button down shirt of his that fit you big as you watched everything he did. You had an older brother so all these kinds of activities were done by your father with your brother, but it was nice to be with your boyfriend and with nature; and at night you were terrified to sleep there, but you had Minho next to you, sleeping huddled under the big tent. Sunday, you finally rejoined the city and you slept over at his house; having the sweetest sex, taking away the stress of having to socialize as you entered that new agency.

At least throughout the weekend Felix kept in touch with you via messages, of which Minho looked on with a raised eyebrow as you sometimes spent a considerate amount of time replying to him… but he had promised you and promised himself to be less jealous, so he let it go, after all, it was you he was with.

You told Felix in person the great news of your joining the company… which shocked him and made him quite happy… even though you always refused to let him give you that credit. Felix could not hide the fact that he was annoyed that you accepted everything from Minho and that you always made excuses for Felix. But that for you that had an impact in his personality, to accept something great from Felix was for you as if you were suddenly a gold digger and manipulative, that he was sensitive and delicate… while your concept of Minho was to be a serious and dominant man, and the one with a weak personality was you, however your perception of Minho is changing, you are getting to know his tender and sweet side.

And it was when the day approached, in the afternoon after the university, Minho sent for you his driver to drop you to the company; you entered with panic to which a woman escorted you to a room on high floors taking the elevator, the place was big and illuminated as nice as you always imagined.

You were welcomed once you entered the place, where there were 3 adults sitting at a table.

“You're already in, congratulations. We'd still like to have your acting practice video recorded, it's something we do” a woman sitting there told you to which you nodded.

“You can improvise with us this script and when you're ready let us know” the younger woman who led you in told you, handing you a script.

You sighed nervously and read it, studying it a bit, not wanting to keep them waiting to which you jumped in to say you were ready and, a short five minute scene, without much science or difficulty for you, certainly left them impressed.

Normally that was a kind of audition to get in, but Minho did everything he could to make sure you weren't rejected, yet the staff was so curious about you… whether you were going to make a girl they simply paid money to get you in… or whether you really had talent.

And, at last, you were taken to your first practice, where two young adults were already at the front presenting about a topic, you excused yourself as you entered and sat down without attracting attention… but it was inevitable, the girls ate you alive with their eyes as they saw you dressed from head to toe subtly and exclusively luxury designer brands, even your hair clip was from designer, making them whisper under their breath. Minho had chosen your outfit, which you accepted as you felt it was the least you could do as he fulfilled one of your dreams, and he dressed you, literally, putting on each of your garments, provocatively slipping on your panties while subtly touching you until he made you whimper and cum. A nice way to start your morning.

You caught the attention of a boy who was sitting next to you, without recognizing that he was in fact a celebrity; you were so nervous and focused on whatever the boy and the girl in front of you were saying. Twenty minutes of that course passed and you tried to keep up, you understood little, but you understood in a certain way; and in those 20 minutes that boy could not take his eyes off you, you felt it, but you thought you were going crazy to feel eyes on you when in fact it was not like that. To him you looked so familiar… your silhouette, your profile, he couldn't stop looking at you until he remembered and it was when the course ended, you stood up and he gently stepped forward so he could see your full face carefully, until he did, there you were in front of him, the pretty girl who was alone, wearing a white Versace dress and the one he liked her from a couple of weeks ago at an art event he attended. He couldn't believe it, he was stunned, he thought it was all about faith and destiny. This time he had to dare to talk to you.

You saw him along and recognized him instantly, Han Jisung, child celebrity and now social media celebrity, son of one of the country's top directors and co-founder of this company, you had heard rumors that he pursued acting as a career, however that his father wanted him to have a background and that it wasn't just about contacts and nepotism - as it was in his early childhood career - but as an adult his father gave him the opportunity to rehearse and earn acting roles on his own, so now he was practicing in his father's company, the best of them all, by the way.

You didn't make a big deal out of it, you weren't a fan of Jisung, you only followed him on instagram but he hadn't had any major roles for years; so he wasn't someone to make a fuss and idolize. With some nervousness, you approached one of the girls, ready to ask for instructions about how to get to the next room that marked your schedule, Jisung saw the confusion on your face and how you gently lifted the paper of your schedule, so he stepped forward, standing in front of you with a smile.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his eyes wide paying full attention to you.

The other girls noticed and, like little immature schoolgirls, became jealous of you in seconds, your first impression was to walk in smugly -to them- wearing only designer and now you magically had Han Jisung's attention, they kept wondering… who you really were, whose daughter you were and why you appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the courses.

You smiled at the boy, relieved that you were getting help.

“Mmm, room C-14” you replied more in doubt than affirmation.

His smile grew bigger, showing his teeth and lifting his cheeks.

"I'm on my way there too. I'm Han Jisung by the way, but I'm better known by Han” he said, doing his best to look handsome and sound flirtatious.

You shyly told him your name and walked together to the new room.

The whole afternoon you lived a dream, unwinding in the real environment you always wanted to be in, you wanted to make love to Minho a hundred times to thank him and, the best part was when you were about to leave, although it left you thinking a little, Minho was outside in his car waiting for you and, an instructor stopped you to tell you.

“It is very common to open castings very often so by simply being part of here you are given the opportunity to audition, the calls are published every week in our private access page to the members of the agency, just to look if you meet the characteristics of the audition, you can also send the best options to your agent or public relations manager…”

Your eyes lit up, you could truly audition for real roles, the only small detail was that you didn't have an agent yet.

You walked out of your last session, walking happily to go into Minho's arms, however you hadn't noticed that Jisung was following you to keep talking, plus he didn't dare to shout your name to get your attention, so he followed you to the parking lot but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you running into the arms of another man, leaving him perplexed. To your luck Minho was standing outside his car waiting for you and, you with a big smile that you passed on to him, he hugged you tightly.

He inhaled the sweet scent of your hair, burying his face in the hollow of your neck and shoulders as he held you tightly.

“Did you like it, princess?” he asked you softly.

“Yes, it was very nice, thank you Minho” you replied still hugging him.

You separated and he took your face between his hands to give you a kiss.

“Let's celebrate at home, I cooked you dinner.”

In the distance, Jisung saw everything puzzled, he really wanted to get closer to you, he was so curious to know who that man was and, when he separated from you, he could see his face completely, it was Lee Minho, the ex-boyfriend of his agent and publicist, with whom Jisung had also a crush for a long time, but she was always with Minho and then they broke up for unexplained reasons and now she had another man, but he always held a grudge against Minho and, if that wasn't enough, now he had you, the pretty unknown girl who was standing alone at that party. Soyul was Jisung's publicist and agent since he was eighteen, his beloved noona, and when he finally thought he could forget about her, you came along, but again, Lee Minho in his way.

On the other hand you without having the slightest idea got into Minho's car after he opened the door for you and when he was starting the car you caught his attention.

“Minho” he turned to see you right away with his eyebrows raised paying attention to you, you were embarrassed to say it but you had to, “…I think I need a publicist or PR agent, or manager… I really don't know…”

Minho blinked suddenly, “Oh my goodness, of course, princess, I'm seriously sorry I didn't prepare you sooner, I'll get you the best one as soon as we get home.”

[…]

You greeted Jisung, it was your second day and you wanted to continue adapting, but he ignored you and looked at you with a bad face, you frowned… thinking about what the hell was wrong with him. You continued the day without him saying a single word to you, he really looked annoyed with you, so before you left you approached him, wanting an explanation of his behavior or if that was his real way of being, sweet one day and the next acting strange.

“Han” you approached him, to which he turned to see you with a nasty look, almost offended that you called his name.

“Don't call me Han” he snorted, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder to leave, without saying anything to you.

The rest of the week was heavy, your utopia lasted a day, you were barely spoken to at practice and you were starting to get so tired that you hardly saw Minho, or enjoyed with him; you came home to rest since all you wanted was to feel your bed. And every day Jisung behaved stranger and like a real son of a bitch with you, as if he hated you. And to the little lack of friends, you had Felix with whom you did not stop texting, you told him every detail, from the color of shirt that idiot Jisung was wearing, to superficial things, Minho was getting more and more annoyed that you did not leave your cell phone and it infuriated him 10 times worse to see Felix's name on your screen, so one night when you stayed at his house, before sleeping, already being in his bed, he simply told you seriously:

“I want you to stop seeing Felix. Stop texting him” he said annoyed, snatching your cell phone from you, you looked at him perplexed, “Look at me, I'm here.”

You pouted slightly, understanding perfectly that he must have felt bad.

“Minho…” you said tenderly but he didn't reciprocate your sentiment.

“I'm being serious” he added annoyed.

You laughed incredulously.

“You can't forbid me who to talk to, what-”

“I can do whatever I want with you” he interrupted you, a heavy energy taking hold of him, “Go to sleep.”

And he turned his back on you, not giving you the phone and leaving you confused. The next morning he apologized for acting that way with you, yet he didn't mention Felix, Minho was really starting to get annoyed. So, you stupidly lied to him. Felix offered to do your first movie night that Friday since you hadn't done it for weeks, so you agreed no problem since you saw him happy again, being his usual self, you were greedy and wanted everything, you wanted Minho and you also wanted Felix in your life.

So you lied to Minho, saying that you wanted to rest in your apartment that day and you couldn't see him, plus you had homework and other things, he really wanted to spend time with you and offered to be with you in your apartment if you wanted to be there, which made you feel terrible, but in the end he agreed, giving you your time alone, apparently.

That Friday night you welcomed Felix to your apartment, who was very happy to see you alone finally having your time together. He came over to your living room couch, ready to put on the movie, of which he wanted to experience something scary, you laughed as he told you about it, it was obvious that Felix wouldn't even survive the first 30 minutes of the movie, he was easily scared.

“I have to pee” you announced confidently, “but you can start playing the movie and grab the snacks, I'll be right back.”

You quietly told yourself to pee; Felix was so happy to be in your apartment again, he had given it a lot of thought and… he came to the conclusion that Minho was just a relationship, but not an official engagement, so he would subtly do everything he could to make you look at him again with different eyes and find him attractive. Felix took the remote control, agilely looking for the movie that was ready to start, he was about to stand up to choose the snacks when he felt a vibration next to him, he thought for a second that it was his cell phone, but it was yours that was resting on the sofa, Felix saw Minho's name, indicating that it was a call and his blood boiled in anger, thinking that not even in your moments alone he would not leave you alone. So, without thinking about it and to play a little, he decided to pick up the call, rubbing it in that it was him who was at his girlfriend's house on a Friday night and not him.

Minho missed you and felt so bad for simply leaving you like that, plus he wanted to be with you, so he was ready to come visit you with a bouquet of flowers since you were trying so hard at your acting practice, and he wanted to ask you if you wanted some dinner. That he would be at your apartment as soon as possible.

Minho smiled happily as he realized you took the call, he took a breath ready to speak but remained open-mouthed as he got a big surprise.

“Minho” greeted a male voice puzzling your boyfriend.

“Who is this?” he said worried with a frown.

“It's me, Felix” replied your friend with an arrogant tone, amused by the situation.

Minho couldn't believe it, he could even speak properly, causing Felix satisfaction.

“What… what are you-, where is y/n?” he asked in desperation.

Felix sighed, almost letting out a growl, “She's… agh, busy.”

Minho's heart stopped for a second, the worst case scenario came to his mind, his trust was damaged, he knew deep down that you weren't like that… but even from the one he loved the most he expected the worst, sadly. Minho hung up abruptly, leaving Felix confused and grimacing, thinking he had really upset him.

Minho rushed to your house, unsure if you were really there, but he would still come looking for you. He didn't think twice, a strength came over him, he couldn't believe it. He had to stop beating himself up and getting silly ideas or he would start crying with anger and sadness.

You came out of the bathroom, with perfectly washed hands and a smile, Felix saw you just the same, so innocent with his freckles on his face and his eyes shrinking from smiling, as if he hadn't done anything wrong seconds ago. And you sat down next to him.

Exactly 35 minutes passed, Felix was already terrified sheltering next to you, covering his eyes, until the sudden sound of your door startled you both. You both looked at the same time towards the door in fear.

“Are you expecting someone?” asked Felix in fright to which you denied, “Why didn't they warn you that someone was coming, no one can just barge in like that…”

You stopped being dramatic and stood up to see who it was, the only people you warned the doorman that they could enter your apartment were Minho, Hari and Felix; you didn't have time to check if you had any message from any of the two out of three in your list, warning that they would come to visit you, you were already in front of your door, looking through the peephole; Felix stayed behind you, scared. And you found Minho, scarier than any horror movie…. He was going to see that Felix was there. You saw him again, he had a serious expression.

You opened up to him, and his eyes opened instantly, examining every part of you, from the time it took you to open the door, from every detail of your clothes and face; but it was safe, your lips were not swollen, your clothes were intact, Minho relaxed his gaze and hugged you tightly.

“Oh, y/n” he said.

You were puzzled by his action but he was so relieved, the last time he appeared by surprise at home, his ex-girlfriend was having sex in their own bed with another man, Minho had terrible memories all the way to your place, hoping that you weren't like that.

He broke away from you, and instantly tensed as he looked at Felix behind you, who had the same disappointed reaction.

“I thought you'd be alone today,” Minho said to you in a low, croaking voice as he looked down at your silhouette.

You looked down at the ground in sorrow, you hated lying to Minho.

“Felix… he stopped by and stayed.”

Minho tried to hide his anger, he took your face in his hands and looked at you tenderly but somewhat defiantly.

“Well I'm your boyfriend and I also stopped by, can I stay?”

You nodded looking into his eyes with your face in his hands, Minho gave you a quick kiss, looking at Felix fixedly challenging him, victorious that he is the one who can kiss you, to which Felix sighed annoyed, it was enough for him, he wasn't ready to see you like this with him.

“Movie night?” added Minho amused.

Felix was about to call it a day and leave, he would let Minho win this time, he couldn't stand seeing you together.

“You know what…” spoke Felix catching both of your attention, “I remembered that I have to urgently go to something with Rachel, I'm really sorry, I have to go.”

You frowned at your friend's clear excuse, Minho smiled pleased that he finally decide to think critically and leave you two alone.

“Felix” you whispered but he ignored you, he walked over to the couch to grab his phone and keys and walked over to you.

Felix gently grabbed you by the waist and planted a delicate kiss on your forehead, not only dismaying Minho but also you, you blushed, you didn't believe he did that in front of your boyfriend without fear. Minho's eyes widened in horror and he clenched his fist tightly restraining himself, he wasn't going to hit him for that, but he wasn't going to let it go either, he would talk it over with you right away.

“Goodbye” he whispered to you as he separated from you.

And he walked through the door. You saw him sad, you were going to go after him without thinking but you felt Minho's hand take your wrist.

"Don't. Go. After him” he said threateningly.

“Minho” you whined, gently breaking free from his grip and caught up with Felix in the hallway.

“Fuck” you heard Minho mumble in annoyance.

“Felix” you called his name and walked up to him, he turned hurt to see you and you not knowing what to say, you said, “I'm sorry.”

Felix sighed again and wanted to be honest with you.

“Y/n… it's still hard for me to see you with him, please don't complicate things any more.”

“I know, I'm sorry” you repeated again.

Felix approached you, he saw your regretful look, him realizing in seconds that he could manipulate you with ease, you would always have a soft spot for him. Felix took your forearms in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I'll talk to you later to go out another time, okay? And please make him not show up.”

You quickly denied.

“He won't.”

“Maybe you can stay at my place next time” he smiled to which your countenance quickly changed.

“Felix… I can't do that anymore.”

He looked at you seriously and sighed.

“Just… let's get back together without being interrupted by Minho, okay? I have to take it slow.”

You walked back to your apartment, finding Minho annoyed with his hands on his hips. You closed the door behind you, you couldn't even defend yourself, you had lied to him; and he had promised not to get mad anymore.

“I can't believe my girlfriend chooses her friend over me” he spat in annoyance.

“I don't choose him over you…”

“How would you feel if a girl friend invited me to her house to spend the night watching a movie while I'm around her, a night when I could be spending it together with you” he exclaimed again annoyed.

You looked him in the eyes and thought about the situation; Minho was right, you wouldn't stand for that to happen.

You didn't respond and walked to your kitchen counter, with nothing to say, but he had a lot to say so he continued, fueling his anger.

“And what angers me the most is that he walks around… touching you, kissing you, rubbing me the wrong way as if you guys had something…” he said reasoning, suddenly a flush of anger came back to him, “or did you guys actually had something, is that it? Why is it that every time I see that boy he looks at me as if he knows something I don't” he began to raise his voice.

You looked at Minho again.

“Minho don't start with that again…”

You started to get annoyed too, every damn chance he could, he would claim you if you had something with any other man.

“With what? Why is that kid walking around like he'd already touched you?” he walked towards you, stepping in front of you.

Minho suspected it from deep inside him, but he wanted to hear you admit it. This time you averted your gaze, always the same question, and you had never given him a concrete answer.

“Did I have sex with Felix? Yes, once before you, but it was really nothing, why can't you trust me now?” you started to say bravely and at the end sadly.

Minho looked at you perplexed, one of his greatest fears… but hearing the word trust, he understood immediately, his trust had been broken in the past and he was afraid of getting hurt again. He remained silent for a moment and then took hold of your waist, calming and speaking honestly.

“I'm sorry… of course I trust you but… you know what happened the last time I trusted someone.”

You searched his crestfallen gaze. You understood what he was referring to but it seemed absurd that he would hesitate, you were crazy about him.

“I would never do that to you Minho.”

Because I love you. You wanted to tell him, but you held back and just hugged him, suddenly the man who could carry you with ease and loved control, became small in your arms.

When Minho broke away he couldn't hold back and kissed you slowly, making his way with silly steps to your room to make love to you, you needed the closeness of his body more than anything else merely sexual. You wanted him close, attached to you, being vulnerable.

[…]

The rest of the week seemed to go by slowly, until your agent sent you the perfect information and appointment to audition for a TV drama. He got it for you as soon as possible, exactly that day in the afternoon, it was the last auditions they were taking so you were in luck; you were so nervous, it was your first audition for a big deal. And, two days later, you had the most beautiful call between you and your agent, confirming you got the part, blowing you away. Your first major role, you were dying to tell Minho the news.

You didn't think the staff worked too fast because that very day everything was planned inside the company, you met the producer, the director and finally… your co-worker with whom you had to act a love interest. You were stunned to see that it was a slight enemy, Han Jisung. He didn't like the idea either, but you both had to pretend with the rest of the cast for the photo, it wasn't a leading role, but you both would play important characters for the plot; two young people in high school in love, the news had been so sweet for you until you saw his face.

You stayed for the small celebration to meet the rest of the cast and important staff, you were at the dessert table until you felt Jisung next to you.

“You still have a chance to give up the role before they release the official cast photos” he whispered to you.

You turned to look at him offended.

“I'm not giving up anything just because your wacky ass is craving for it, you do it, find another role and another girl to pick on” you replied him also with attitude.

Jisung let out an incredulous chuckle and was ready to return your aggressive energy with another comment, but his countenance relaxed when he saw someone enter; he left you there and went to greet whoever had arrived. You took no notice, but suddenly a strangely familiar voice made you freeze.

“Congratulations on the role” the woman spoke.

You turned around slowly and fearfully, finding Minho's ex-girlfriend. You couldn't believe it, of all the places and all the people in the city… she thought so too, it wasn't nice to see you.

Soyul opened her eyes in surprise at the sight of you. It was all part of Jisung, he just wanted to watch the world burn and see how the before and after in Minho's love life met.

“Nice to see you again…you're an actress now…?” she spoke to you hypocritically to which you nodded, “…how is Minho, are you still dating him?”

Jisung was surprised, he didn't think you already met, he thought then, Soyul still had Minho in mind.

“Yes” you hastened to say, “he is very well, busy for work.”

“I see he's still very busy… I hope he won't neglect you” she added, leaving you confused.

You were nervous but you didn't let yourself be exposed like that; suddenly you hear a voice from the staff calling your name so you rush over there.

Soyul was thoughtful at the name you were called by and ran over there… and asked Jisung if your name wasn't Choi Eunjoo.

[…]

You had a dinner to celebrate the beginning of the shooting and development of the project, you had already received your script but… you wanted to tell Minho the news as soon as possible; they were given the rest of the afternoon to get ready, you asked the driver not to tell Minho that you had left early and, once you arrived at your apartment you sent him a message asking him if he could come to see you at your place, he quickly answered 'ok' and 40 minutes passed… you thought he would cancel you at the last minute because something important must have come up at work. You didn't have a specific plan, you just wanted to hug him and tell him the news, you had bought some wine to relax the atmosphere and make it more sophisticated… but every time you were losing hope of seeing him, until you heard yourself knocking on your door, running towards it.

You found Minho, hidden among a large bouquet of flowers, until you saw his radiant face in an adorable smile. You opened your mouth in amazement and let him pass.

“For you” he said kissing your cheek, “you've been working so hard, princess” you took the bouquet, longing for it in detail, as if he knew you would give him good news. “You missed me so much you wanted to see me?”

You smiled at him and gave him a short kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, Minho, they're so pretty… I have news for you” you left the flowers on the table and Minho looked at you with attention, you were embarrassed to say it, but you did, “… I got my first role” you exclaimed happily.

A big smile formed on Minho, he suddenly radiated genuine happiness and rushed to hug you tightly lifting you up a little.

"Congratulations, really. You deserve it” he replied hugging you.

And kissed you tightly when you distanced yourselves a little more as you didn't stop holding each other. You blushed, you didn't know how to react.

“Do you want to celebrate somehow?” he added sweetly blinking suddenly.

“Oh… I have to go to a dinner in a few hours so I didn't think of anything special, other than seeing you.”

Your words made Minho warm. You both were inches apart and his closeness always took your breath away… he looked so good, suddenly something of another kind of love and affection for your boyfriend crossed your mind… you played with the collar of his shirt and raised your gaze, giving him the lascivious eyes, you wanted to feel good.

Minho smiled sideways at the realization and lowered his hands a little from your back to your ass.

“Who's more special than me making you feel good, right, princess?” he replied.

You nodded, and your small movements were interrupted by your boyfriend's lips on yours kissing you nimbly. He pulled you closer to his body and slowly caressed from your back to your ass, you were starting to get aroused and it was just… something about Minho wearing his office clothes made you so hot, he looked so good in his tight cloth pants and his button up shirts that marked his arms.

Minho started to undress you until he left you completely naked in front of him, your body was exalted as you felt a little spank on your ass, then he took it again and squeezed it hard kissing you again. You felt so dirty and naughty being naked in front of him and him still wearing all his clothes. Minho kissed you the whole time, as he moved his hand down to your pussy and began to caress you mercilessly, wetting his fingers all over your area. He was so excited too that in one swift movement, he turned your body and made you lean back against the edge of your kitchen counter, giving him the view of your back and ass. You watched eagerly as your boyfriend pulled down his pants and released his cock, you bit your lip as you imagined him fucking you, but to your surprise, he placed his member between your folds, making you close your legs and began to rub his cock between your thighs. You both moaned and you thought about how every time he came up with anything to tease you. The texture of his cock rubbing between your labia and his tip protruding from the other end between your clitoris and mons pubis, you gasped more and more, Minho was driving you crazy. Minho held on to the lower part of your arched back as whimpered at the tightness of your thighs together pressing his cock, moving back and forth until he let out his cum, sliding down your thighs and squirting the beginning of your vulva.

[…]

The next day you had an unexpected and beautiful visit to the practice. Minho was there. Apparently he was going to be an official and heavyweight sponsor throughout the shoot. You smiled discreetly at him and slipped away to ask him if that was planned before or after you got the part, you would be disappointed to know that Minho was in the way of you getting a part, but you noticed the innocence in his eyes, he had planned it all right after you told him.

Minho was friends with the producer so he offered him to stay and see a bit about the project, Minho accepted without a second thought, that meant more time to see you.

“They are the two main ones” the producer said to Minho pointing to two adults close to his age, “And the two young ones over there” Minho saw how they pointed to you and another guy, “they are other characters with love interest… but I see a certain attitude from the guy with the girl, I think they seriously should have chemistry if they want this to go well; besides they are adorable together, don't you think so?”

Minho didn't think it was funny nor did he find the gentleman's words pleasant and then watched as the boy grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the room, puzzling and annoying him a bit.

You walked out of there with Jisung totally confused, annoyed about whatever he would want now.

“Did you read the script yet?” he spoke to you curtly.

“What?”

“I refuse to kiss you, that won't happen, I told you to give up the role” he spoke annoyed.

Again you looked at him perplexed, you didn't even understand what his problem was… but he had a very big problem towards you, it bothered him that you couldn't be his and you were running around with Lee Minho.

You really wanted to challenge and talk back to Jisung but… he was the damn son of the owner of the company.

“Oh please grow up” you just put it to him saying, rolling your eyes.

“Then cooperate to make this go well.”

You opened your eyes in surprise, you saw his intentions to get dangerously close to you, but you shifted your body uncomfortably and managed to slip away and re-enter the room a little upset, Minho saw you and wanted to instantly run to you… but he had to keep it cool.

You were thinking that Jisung wanted to behave weirdly with you, maybe he just wanted to flirt with you so you would clarify that you had a boyfriend… and you couldn't tell Minho at all because you were afraid that he would react possessive again and you hated when he got like that and blamed you by, going back to your usual fight.

Minho saw you distracted while he was driving and stopped the car near the river view. You looked around because he had suddenly stopped and you looked at him for the first time after leaving the agency.

“What's wrong, love?”

You grimaced, urging a smile.

"Nothing… I'm… anxious about the new job” you lied.

Minho smiled at you and wanted to let your thoughts pass for a second, he just wanted to hug you and being locked in his car didn't help him.

“And you feel too tired to walk for a while with your old boyfriend?” he joked imitating an old man voice which made you laugh.

You shook your head and got out of the car, feeling the cold breeze, Minho ran to you and put his coat on you. You thought it had been long days when you were out walking with Minho doing nothing special, just seeing places together. He lifted your chin, making you look into his eyes, he couldn't hold back anymore, he took your face and brushed his lips on the bridge of your nose in a kiss.

“I love you.”

That surprised you and came to you like a cold gust of wind, which suddenly turned warm in seconds. All your questions had answers now. No one could take you away from him.

“You know I love you too.”

------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid @jisunglyricist @tinys0ftie @yaorzu-blog @kisses-too-the-moon

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carigm · 9 months ago

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About Dyersfilm’s “leak”

For all of you who don’t know, dyersfilm is an insufferable individual who used to go by the name of swiftlynatalia. She is racist, homophobic, transphobic, and even made fun of her supposed favorite actress’ eating disorder. However, people on Twitter (especially mlvns) entertain her because she had reliable sources during the filming of S4, and after during post production. She had some true leaks, many being the same that Reddit got right, while others only she had. She was also wrong about quite a few things, but generally she was reliable.

It is worth noting though that she is extremely biased against byler (many of the leaks she got wrong for S4 were pertaining their storyline) and absolutely hates the ship.

This time around, she was getting some leaks during the first couple of months of filming to her curious cat, but she herself claimed that these were not reliable leaks whatsoever and that she was pissed because this time she doesn’t have access to the real sources she had for S4. She has complained about this repeatedly for these past few months. The leaks she has gotten tho, many she has mocked and made fun of because they don’t align with what she wants from the show. She also made a “disclaimer” when the show started filming again that she would not be posting leaks about Byler because she hates us all, and yet every single one of those most likely fake leaks she got she posted, and many of them talked about Byler. She would post them and mock them for “clearly being untrue”. She has barely gotten a single Mlvn positive leak this whole time, and when she’s gotten at least something that alludes to them having scenes together she immediately ran to post it and alert all her friends, even tho she herself knows all of these are most likely fake.

For weeks now, her curious cat has been dry af because I guess nda’s are stronger this time, or no one wants to leak shit to her (she’s rude as hell). she posted the following ask 10 days ago. Someone asked her if she knew about any Mike and El scenes and she said no. Keep this in mind for what’s coming next…

Then suddenly yesterday, she alluded to a Jonathan spoiler she’s supposedly pissed about, but refused to post it like she’s done for everything else. People quickly thought it might involve Byler because she said she wasn’t going to post “leaks” about it, even though she had already lol. So they asked her and she said that “yes, it has to do with Byler.”

Then shortly after this someone asked about Mlvn again, this was just today. Again, note how she proceeds to say she knows nothing about Mlvn 😭

Bylers on Twitter noticed her answers about Mlvn and her comment about a supposed byler leak involving Jonathan and started speculating. She ofc noticed this, and not even after an hour of her saying she knows nothing about Mlvn she goes on to say this.

….

She knows nothing but somehow she knows Mlvn is stable? The bipolar disorder of these answers could rival my own bipolar.

Mind you, we all know that she would’ve jumped up at the first opportunity to post any leak that implied Will was pining and miserable, her and her friends would’ve had a field day over it. And yet, she only clarifies this after…

Not to mention how utterly ridiculous this all is. They’ve filmed stuff up until episode 4 (from what we know), why the hell would Will be pining and hung up over Mike if Mlvn is endgame? That makes absolutely no fucking sense. They would have him immediately fully patch things up with Mike and move on, not be hung up on someone he can’t have in the middle of an apocalypse. Especially not after the Duffers said he’s getting a happy ending. Will getting a happy ending but still being in love with Mike halfway through the last season with Mlvn being endgame is absolute lunacy.

Especially when you consider the fact that narratively, in a sense, Will has already moved on. He doesn’t expect anything from Mike, he doesn’t think Mike can like him back. He saw Mike confess his love in front of El, he helped that confession happen. Will literally has no problem with Mlvn anymore pls 😭 He saved them!!

This is the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever read.

Will is somehow upset at Mike not feeling the same way…when Will already believes Mike doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t ever expect any reciprocation 😭

Either she’s wildly twisting this supposed leak out of context to fit her own perceived narrative of what should happen, or she’s straight up lying about this.

And we know she’s lying about Mlvn so…you people decide what you think of this buffoonery lol.

Wait for Reddit leaks y’all. This woman could get a legit leak saying Byler is endgame and dig her own grave before posting it.

#byler

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whateverisbeautiful · 4 months ago

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#48: The Wedding Plans (1.05)

Of all the Jadis and Father Gabriel flashbacks, this was the best one right here because we get to learn something so special - Rick wanted to have a wedding with Michonne. 😭 Officially marrying his wife is one of the many milestones that trifling Jadis stole from them, and Michonne also addresses some other missed milestones Jadis took from them as they hunt her down 🚖...

Flashing back to two years ago, Jadis and Father Gabriel have another one of their annual meetings in the forest. Jadis asks, “How’s Rick’s wife doing?” And I do like hearing Michonne be referred to as 'Rick’s wife' by someone, even tho it’s one of my least favorite someones.

Father Gabriel says, “Michonne? She’s away helping people.” And even with this, I was like...SIR, are you at all curious why Jadis is curious about how Rick’s wife - who Jadis wasn’t close to - is doing? Like, please...

I'm not even saying Father Gabriel needed to immediately put together that Jadis had anything to do with Rick, since he, like many, thought Rick died. But still, he could have at least been a bit more suspicious of Jadis' whole situation and told some people back home about her and her helicopter.

And then I’m side-eying Father Gabriel again when he asks, “Why did you call her his wife?” Gabe, you have to ask? 😑 Lol, I know it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but, the second I even realized these two were having these yearly meet-ups, everything they said and did had me looking at both of them like...

Jadis says, “I mean, wasn’t she?” And I just know she’s thinking about how Rick barely says five words to her in Philly and most of those words are about his wife. 😋

Father Gabriel says, “Well not officially. If that matters anymore.” I said now Father G, I know you see Michonne every day raising those kids and wearing a wedding ring around her neck. That’s Rick’s wife, stop playing.

Also, in TWD I was proud of Father Gabriel when he had his whole evolution into a real one and became a valued member of the group. But seeing TOWL made me remember that while Father G has grown a lot, this man did in fact enter this franchise with snake tendencies.

Had me wondering if his snake past is what makes him intrinsically drawn to this snake Jadis. But little does Father G know, that while he's actually tried to improve himself, Jadis is still slithering through life and causing so much harm.

Something I do like about this exchange between them tho is it feels like yet another thing TOWL came to set the record straight on regarding Richonne. Like for all the viewers that used to comment “no ring, no marriage,” stuff about Richonne, this was TOWL being like nope, Rick and Michonne are and have long been husband and wife, period. 👌🏽

This show didn't allow any room to downplay, discredit, or dismiss who Rick and Michonne are to each other and how much they mean to each other and I'll always appreciate TOWL for that. 😌

Then we get to the best part of these Jadis/Father Gabriel flashbacks when Father Gabriel says, “It’s funny. One day, Rick said that I should marry them. Maybe we should do it right there on the bridge that we were building”

Y’all. 🫠 When I tell you I was gagged when I heard that the first time.

I had been ready for them to just hurry this Jadis/Father G scene up but then I heard that line and...

I adore that we got to learn that Rick wanted to have a wedding and was making plans for it before he was taken. He wanted to marry Michonne on the bridge. 🥹 The very bridge he was then taken from her for years. 🥺

Watching Rick's season 9 episodes back, they’re now even better knowing that making his marriage to Michonne official was on his mind. It’s almost like you can see it with certain scenes, even tho obviously this detail was more added in TOWL rather than pre-planted in TWD.

It’s so sweet too because Rick was so adamant about that bridge being completed and I love knowing that it was both because of its practicality/symbolism of unity bringing the communities together and because it was where he and Michonne could celebrate their own special union with a wedding.

gif cred: @perryabbott

This was esepcially great to hear because I had always felt that Rick would be the type to give Michonne a ring and want that traditional solidification of their marriage. So it was nice to hear these details that show he really was working on it. 🥹

Also, another TWD scene that becomes extra emotional upon learning that Rick wanted to marry Michonne on the bridge is Michonne’s first scene post-Rick in 9.06.

Michonne goes to the destroyed bridge years later and essentially expresses how she’s still so committed to Rick and still fighting for him and them and their family. It’s almost like she's saying vows.

And little did Michonne know (because I’m sure Father Gabriel’s secret-squirrel behind didn’t tell her) that bridge is the very place Rick wanted them to exchange vows and get married. 😭

Rick truly does look at Michonne and see his future because he had big plans for the two of them in season 9. He was fully ready to have a wedding and a baby with her in his final TWD eps.

Also, in the season 8 premiere, Maggie asks Rick if he’s been thinking about what 'tomorrow' looks like and he confidently says "Yes I have" as well as telling Maggie, "After this, I’m following you."

I already always got the sense that part of that meant Rick was thinking about expanding his family by having a baby with Michonne. But I like how now after TOWL that s8 scene really reads like Rick was thinking about having a baby with Michonne and officially marrying her. That's what he wanted his 'tomorrow' to look like. 🥲

And a Richonne bridge wedding would have been beautiful. 🥹 In my head, Rick and Michonne definitely go on to have a wedding with their kids a part of it now that they’re back home.

Father Gabriel says, “But I couldn’t see the future he described, so I sat on a log in the forest, and there at my feet in the dirt right in front of me was a ring. It seemed like it’d make a pretty nice wedding ring.”

See, see, see, even when others don’t see your vision, God gon’ see the vision. And He always makes a way. Amen. 🙌🏽

And Richonne is blessed and highly favored so of course a ring showed up. 😇

But then...y’all, I have to side-eye Father Gabriel yet again with what he does next.

Father Gabriel says how he picked up the ring and thought to put it someplace that Rick would find it “because I could suddenly see that someday” and then this man takes the ring out, revealing that he’s been holding onto it all these years 🙃...

Um imo, it would have been nice if shortly after the bridge he had told this story to Michonne and let her decide what she wanted to do with the ring.

Michonne clearly finds a lot of solace in these types of sentimental items and wore a wedding ring around her necklace. It could have possibly been a comforting thought for her to know this was the ring Rick might have proposed with since he was planning on them getting formally married with a priest and everything.

IDK, this was just making me feel like team family tried Michonne once again.

Father Gabriel says sadly, “But then what happened, happened.” And Jadis, perhaps masking remorse but still as self-centered as always, just starts talking about how she looks forward to their next visit and the chance to just sit and talk and feel like who she was. How can she be so unmoved by the fact that she’s kept two people who love each other dearly apart for years? She got to have moments of feeling like who she was while Rick lost himself day by day. 😑

Jadis starts opening up a bit more about what she does and how it weighs on her but she’s committed to the mission and...they just can never make me like Jadis, tbh. 😪 Even when she's supposed to be showing her more human side I'm still just like...

And then Father Gabriel gets one more side-eye from me when he gives Jadis of all people that ring. What? 🙃

The only thing I like about that choice to give her the ring is that it’s kinda like the ring had a similar journey to Rick. It was stuck with Jadis for years but then eventually found its way to its rightful person - Michonne. 👌🏽

But otherwise, I was like 'Father G, why would you...???' Jadis of all people should hold onto the ring he found for Rick to give to Michonne?? 😪 Wasn’t exactly here for that choice. But that wedding ring leads to not one but two of my absolute favorite Richonne moments going forward so it’s all good now. 😌👌🏽

gif cred: @perryabbott

In the present, Rick and Michonne engage in a car chase with Jadis.

Rick says they can’t kill her but Michonne begs to differ saying, “Oh we can.” I promise Michonne and I stay on the same wavelength at all times lol. 💁🏽‍♀️ Michonne,...

Rick says, “I told you, she left a file about home for the CRM to find.” Michonne knows Jadis is just a neverending source of destruction when she says, “To destroy Alexandria because that’s what she does, Rick. She destroys!” Wrong where? 💯

Also, I love the little detail of seeing Michonne is wearing the M bracelet while she’s driving. Like they had to rush to get dressed and go chase after Jadis but Michonne still said I’m gonna remember to put on this bracelet from my man before we go. Here for it. 😊

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And then I so appreciate that we get a moment for Richonne to acknowledge the valuable and important life moments and milestones Rick missed because of Jadis as Michonne says, “She robbed us of you being there to see your son being born. Taking his first step.” 😭

I love that she says robbed ‘us’ because Rick being there to see his son being born and RJ's first steps would have been such incredibly special moments for Rick and Michonne to share. 😢

And Jadis really took that from them. Because while yes Rick was going to need the kind of medical assistance the Civic Republic could provide to survive the injuries he got from that rebar, he eventually would have been healed up enough to go home and recover there and be present for at least the tail end of Michonne’s pregnancy and birth. If only he hadn’t been held captive somewhere he couldn’t leave. 😞

Then I absolutely adore that, upon hearing Michonne mention super special milestones that Rick has missed in his wife and son’s life, Rick is immediately on the kill-Jadis train as he says, “Okay, what do we do after she’s dead?” I love the switch-up and how he’s instantly on board. 😋 He knows Jadis has got to go for, as he said before, stealing their family.

Michonne says they’ll do whatever they have to do and sis is not playing. 👏🏽 Jadis ain’t making it out of today alive if Michonne has anything to do with it.

gif cred: @nerd4music

Michonne rams into Jadis’ car and then they eventually get Jadis to crash off the path. As they continue their Jadis hunt down on foot, Jadis flees and enlists the help of that one noodle-less trio. She clearly has a scheme in mind because one thing about a snake...

In the woods, Rick tells Michonne that the CRM's bases are spread out across the country and they have to figure out which one Jadis hid the dossier in. Rick suggests there might be a route where they can take Jadis alive and talk to her to get some info.

Rick notes how Jadis clearly hated being called Anne and he thinks that the Anne-version of Jadis is still in there somewhere. (Both versions gotta go, in my book 🤷🏽‍♀️)

He says, “If there’s something she can give us first - something to keep Alexandria safe.” But Michonne feels they don’t need Jadis for that when she says, “We’ll keep it safe." And then, determined for Jadis to meet her maker before the sun sets, Michonne adamantly says, "But she’s gonna die.”

You already know I'm with that energy. But I get where Rick is coming from too as he says, “We need to keep it safe without risking anything."

Rick then adds, "I couldn’t see some things. I couldn’t. You helped me. Maybe we can help her, and if we can’t...” And Michonne is in her full deadly mode as she finishes Rick’s sentence saying, “Then I can kill her.” She is not interested in deprogramming that lady. 😂

gif cred: @taiturner

First; I love that Rick stays giving Michonne credit for how she helped him. He knows that after the mental warfare the CRM did on him, he was finally able to see the light - the real light not ‘the last light of the world’ - because of his wife.

And second; it’s admirable that Rick has it in his heart to want to help even someone who has done him so wrong. However…Jadis done had too many chances for help and she squandered it or took advantage of it every time cuz she’s a snake through and through. So the time for helping her has passed, which is why Michonne is hellbent on killing her.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick says, “Be my guest." because while he knows Jadis can be a resource to getting things they need, he also doesn't mind if she gets sent six feet under. I mean, killing her was a dream of his so he gets it. 👌🏽

Then Rick says, "Maybe just maim first.” and that delivery is great and always makes me smile. 😊 Rick trying to talk killing down to maiming - you can tell he knows his wife is gonna rip Jadis up somehow someway for everything she’s done to him and their family.

gif cred: @taiturner

I don’t think Michonne even quite heard Rick's 'maim' comment cuz she spots some fresh blood on a tree and as a lethal woman on the hunt, she’s immediately ready to follow where it leads. And as they go, this pursuit leads to Richonne's final confrontation with Jadis. 😌👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.05 #RIR (48)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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yois2aki · 9 months ago

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੭୧ chishiya with an introverted reader... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x fem!reader (requested)

— warnings: fluff, maybe ooc chishiya, beach arc, fem pronouns, niragi doing niragi things, typical aib violence, swallowing razor blades lol...

— summary: chishiya is very enticed by the fact you seem to trust him so much, he can't help but tease you.

— word count: 1.6k

you were known around the beach, specifically for being on the quiet side, avoiding any compromising relationships, platonic or not, with people around you, knowing that would only be a flaw between others, especially in a place like the borderlands. people like this always managed to stand out more than intended between others.

it only half worked, though. when you first arrived in this sick world, it didn't take long for you to get invited to the beach, which you reluctantly accepted since there weren't that many options for you.

everyone there seemed untrustworthy and deceitful, especially the group of militants. so you decided to keep to your side, having a few acquaintances here and there but nothing too profound.

that was until a blonde guy named chishiya decided to do the job himself and approach you. you were never aware of the reason, but at this point, you didn't care. your only goal in a place like this was to never let your guard down next to others, but unfortunately, this man managed to make you. he could be using you all this time just to have someone to sacrifice when the needed time comes, and you would fall right onto it given how much trust you had put in him.

being friends with chishiya later on drove you to become friends with kuina as well, but still, you weren't as close to her as you were with the guy.

it turns out you were simply introverted, and having someone to confide in ended up helping you in a place like this, contrary to your beliefs. you'd continuously get teased by niragi for being so shy and reserved with yourself, but that didn't happen with chishiya. you could tell he was quite curious about your behavior as well; however, he didn't press it on you.

this reflected on the time you two spent together. you ended up sticking next to him more than you realized. people around the beach would be surprised if they went on a walk and saw one of you both alone. kuina was also after him sometimes, but it didn't compare to you guys's proximity. this only made him seem more suspicious, given that he only kept two people close, and even so, he would appear slightly reluctant to anything you guys did together.

before you could realize it, you were practically blabbering your mouth out whenever you were both alone, contrasting the personalities you made up around other members. and surprisingly, chishiya didn't complain, instead just staying silent for most of the time you talked. you weren't sure if he was even listening most of the time, apart from some occasional comments he decided to add when wanting to share his opinion about whatever matter caught your eye that day.

as of now, chishiya was sitting on the chair by his desk as you lied down on his bed, looking at the ceiling. his hands were moving around on a device, and you had no idea what half of its purpose was. sometimes, you would try and peek to see whatever he was doing with it, but upon recognizing the usual pliers and wires he must love so much, given he "spends more time with them than with you" (as you dramatically proclaimed a few days ago), you just gave up.

he looked very focused right now, and you knew better than to disturb him at times like these, but your boredom somehow managed to get the lead as your mind looked around for a chat theme.

"did you know that the human stomach can dissolve razor blades?" you ask out of the blue, your gaze still fixated on the ceiling.

he did not answer. instead, he stopped his movements around the device in his hands and gave you a side look. you could feel his gaze, so you immediately tried to explain.

"i'm not planning on anything!" you said it with a hurried voice, coming out with a tone of humor. "it's just a scientific fact."

he sighed, his attention turning back to the box to which he added two metals. it was now much harder to guess what the hell he was trying to make out of it.

"no, i did not know that." chishiya replied, his eyes never leaving the gadget he held as he kept fixing it. his voice was heard again shortly after. "but it's quite obvious, actually. the ph level in a human stomach varies between 1 and 3, which means it is very acidic. you could get away with swallowing a lot of things."

you could tell by the way he spoke that he tried to use easier words to make you understand, and honestly, that only made your heart beat faster and your cheeks redden.

"that doesn't mean you can do it." he stopped his movements for a second, talking with a stern voice, but quickly went back. he really looked more preoccupied with the piece of equipment.

you gasped as if you were offended by his remark, a chuckle leaving your lips right after as you rolled around on his bed. "i would never swallow anything suspicious. i'm not that insane."

"you considered pressing a button that had "don't press" written on top of it." he answered without thinking twice.

you laughed it off again, remembering how he had to physically pull you away from the tempting button you found together on a game you played. it consisted of finding the exit to a labyrinth as a killer chased the players. you knew where the exit was from the very beginning since, before entering the game, chishiya had the brilliant idea of going to a point high enough to study the whole arena. when you both finally finished the game, someone ended up pressing it, and the whole place blew up. at least you found out what it did.

"come on, i was curious!" you complained, still giggling, when the memories of chishiya being so done with you came back. "i would never swallow a razor blade, you know that."

"not even if it had "don't swallow" written on top of it?" he ironically asked, doing his best to make his voice come out nonchalant, but you could basically hear the smirk he held.

"chishiya!" you whined out louder, starting to laugh again.

after your fun died out, you got up from the bed and stopped beside him, a hand holding onto the back of his chair. "what miraculous electrical device are you making this time?"

at this point, chishiya didn't even question your choice of words, instead keeping his gaze on the item. "it's a taser," he replied sharply. "so i can bring some sense into the heads of idiots like you."

"i hate you." you admitted, rolling your eyes and turning around with a sigh, lying flat dead on his bed again. both of you knew you were not telling the truth, and he was about to tease you for it.

until he was brutally broken out of his line of thinking by an equally brutal niragi slamming the door open. you flinched at the sound, while chishiya just closed his eyes and sighed, frustrated.

"oi. executive meeting by eight o'clock. make sure not to skip it again, or the hatter might not like it." he exclaimed, referring to chishiya, not bothering about keeping his voice down or even lowering his gun to appear a bit more sociable. "oh. look who we have here..." now referring to you.

as niragi's eyes fell upon you, your eyebrows immediately furrowed as you looked away, sitting up on chishiya's bed, avoiding as much contact with him as you could.

"why are you always after this guy? there are so many better men in a place like this, and you choose him?" niragi asked with that sharp voice of his, which you profoundly despised, as he approached and pointed his gun at you. you didn't bother looking at it.

your cheeks were pretty warm from this whole interaction. you weren't scared of him physically hurting you, since chishiya wouldn't allow it and niragi knew it, but confrontations were always awkward with him.

you didn't even realize that chishiya finally let go of the device in hand, turning around in the chair and watching the scene with not too much interest. "she isn't that fond of me. actually, she just claimed to hate me."

your mouth fell agape as you looked his way with a gaze that could kill. you noticed he had a smirk, and all you wanted to do in that moment was wipe it out of his face, but you knew best with niragi there.

"oh, so she talks? now that's a surprise." niragi lowered his gun to his sides, chuckling at the end of his sentence. you could only lower your head in embarrassment and avoid any more conflicts.

"well, i'll be taking my leave. thanks for the attention, you both!" niragi yelled ironically, slamming the door shut behind him.

and as soon as he made his way out of the room, you turned your attention to chishiya, who had already mentally prepared himself to deal with your talking.

"i might not be the one dissolving a blade in my stomach, but i know who will." you said, trying your best to sound mad, which probably didn't work out because he didn't move a bit from his usual position.

"well, niragi might need to take care then." he said, turning around in his chair, back to his own world.

"i wasn't talking about him!" you rolled your eyes, fuming and concluding that it was useless to argue with him.

in truth, your tantrum didn't last much longer than 5 minutes, since soon you were already chattering about whatever came into your mind next. even if it seemed like not, chishiya was always listening, often adding a comment or two, but at this point, it was routine for both. it was entertaining to him to see how different you could be depending on the people present in the room and how you became much more comfortable with him around. he took pride in that.

— a/n: waaah this was so fun to write!!! i love making chishiya an insufferable one so i hope this was okay and fitted your likings... i think i ran away a little bit from the topic but i wanted to make chishiya as in character as possible because imo that's what makes him so interesting. ohh i love a jackass of a man......

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lightlycareless · 3 months ago

Note

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #series side stories: first it hurts—

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equallyshaw · 5 months ago

Text

back to you | quinn hughes

✿ word count: 4.3k ✿ warnings: mention of slight body shaming and emotional/mental abuse. ✿ the early timeline is a bit sketch, ignore it pls lol ✿ french is italsized. ✿ masterlist.

cecille miller and quinn hughes met years ago at a toronto prep school for athletes, both bonding over having two other siblings and all three of them being involved in the same sport. cecille had been competing for the last 5 years in figure skating all across the world, in singles by the time they had met. while quinn was on his way two years later for team usa, back home in the states. by the time quinn had left, she was on the verge of cementing a spot on team canada for the 2018 Olympics just a few short years later. the last time they saw one another, cecille had been preparing for worlds in 2016. the olympics was the last time he had seen her - not to mention everybody.

after a coach who had abused her mentally and emotionally for years, over her physical appearance and how she was 'too' soft; she was ready to untie her skates and place them on a desolate shelf in the garage, which was a step up from the garbage can. her gold medal followed suit. after the olympics she enrolled in trinity college in toronto, which is by far the smallest college in the city with a focus on psychology with a minor in writing. hoping to one day bring an emphasis to sports psychology in the world of skating, albeit it in hockey or figure skating, and bring more awareness to how mentally exhausting it can be. and the physical aspect it has on the body. now two years out from graduation, she was on her way to new york to begin a position with the new york knicks. after completing a sports psychology internship with massachuest general hospital; which is considered one of the top hospitals in the country, all the while co-publishing a study on the stress of an athlete. she had reached the ceiling of figure skating, shattered it- and hoped to do the same in her field.

it was another hot and humid evening in the city, this early october. the season had just begun for the nba and cecille had loved and thoroughly enjoyed getting to see it up close and personal. she saw the game in a different light now, and adored seeing it through the eyes of the athletes. even through the ugly and not-so-pretty moments. as the team's junior sports psychologist, she found herself being a shoulder to lean on and vent to more than anything. she found herself becoming a confidant for the rookies and younger ones, as she could relate to the world around them in more ways than one.

as she stood off the back behind the player's bench, she saw one of those said rookies sitting down frustrated and defeatedly. the head and senior teams psychologist look towards her, and gave her a nod. as if to say, 'this is it kid.' she nodded towards the middle-aged man, before walking towards the end of the bench as the time out proceeded. she kneeled in front of him as the players head hung low with a towel on it. he had made a huge error just minutes prior and was benched because of it. although she didn't agree with the coach just pulling him out, she could understand why. her and player spoke in hushed voices for about 45 seconds before the player took off the towel and gave her a small smile. she gave him a small wink before standing up and giving a quick fist bump to another player who then bent over to talk to the younger player. cecille quickly walked back towards the players entrance to the lockerroom and stood across from her boss. he gave her a big smile before looking back at the game.

unbeknownst to her, jack was at the game with a few teammates and had seen the whole thing, along with quinn who was home in vancouver. the eldest watching as the camera panned over to her and the rookie, with the commentators speaking about how the 'golden girl' from toronto canada had come to work with them after 5 years of study. jack caught the tail end of the conversation between the two and couldn't believe she'd shown up in their lives at the oddest moment. cecille + basketball? who'd a thought! jack promised quinn that if given the opportunity, he'd find a way to see her. after all, he wanted to find out all he could on the girl, who his older brother had never stopped thinking of.

✿

jack never ended up getting the opportunity to see the now soft redhead. cecille headed back up to vancouver for a bachelorette party for a childhood friend, who too had moved to the states like cecille. she had just entered the luxury hotel - farmont pacific rim - where the party would be staying at. instead of going to her room right away, she opted for a coffee at the coffee bar and a chocolate muffin. she had had a red eye from dallas, and had gotten into vancouver around 6:47 am. quickly typing away on her phone, responding to an email about a private meeting for a player on the team - she had not realized who had walked up next to her at the bar. she pressed send, before placing her phone down and bringing her iced americano up to her pale lips. god, she was exhausted. her schedule allowed little time for rest and knew this weekend would end up biting her in the ass- but she couldn't pass up a childhood friend's weekend, that girl had been there for so much at this point. through cecilles early career, her peak, retirement, and now post-grad.

cecille sipped some more of her iced drink, before setting it back down. the young man spoke to the barista about what they wanted.

cecille's phone dinged a few times with texts and an email alert, she sighed turning off the ringer. as she did so, she took a not so subtle glance to her right, taking a peek at the man beside her. who now, sat down two seats from her. black hair - newly damp - curled right above their eyebrows, a soft spec now formed on the chin and a freshly stitched finger pushed away the hair. that only a hockey player could have, i might add.

curiosity got the best of her, and she peeked a little longer before a set of hazel eyes looked up at her.

she instantly choked on her own spit, and looked away quickly. that couldn't be who she thought it was right? she sipped some of her drink before covering her eyes with her hands, already knowing it was who it was. "you okay?" he questioned, not realizing it was her. yet. "just peachy." she hummed, feeling her cheeks turn molten, her heartbeat begin to pound and her hands becoming warm. "just fantastic." she mumbled before her phone began to ring from the other side of the coast. her mother.

"hi mum, whats up?" she questioned in a quebec accent, that she picked up years ago from when she'd visited her mom's family there. her mum wanted to check in and see how she was doing, and if she'd gotten to the hotel alright. she confirmed and then turn towards quinn who took the hot coffee from the barista, "and you wouldn't believe who sits next me." she teased in english, as quinn looked towards her. his eyes widened in confirmation, her shade of icy blue eyes and freckle right above her right eyebrow confirmed it. her mother questioned who it was, and she responded with, "remember drama quinn?" (pronounced queen) and her mum laughed. a term laced with adoration and childlike humor, a nickname jack had coined years ago back in the suburbs of toronto. cecille promised to call her when she got back to manhattan, before the two ended the call.

"cecille florence.." he murmured under his breath and she nodded with a small smile, "wha- why are you here? what have you been up to?" he questioned in disbelief sitting down in the high-top chair next to hers. her pale by-nature cheeks turned light blush as she smiled. "im here for a bachelorette party. member livie?" she questioned and he nodded in confirmation, "well she's getting married next summer and she had time off to travel here and i just so happened found time as well." cecille explained with a slight shrug. he nodded, trying to form a question while she sipped her coffee. "oh! i saw you work for the knicks, right? how'd you end up there?" he questioned in genuine curiosity. she nodded, "after spending two years at Massachusetts general - top hospital in the country, i got the opportunity to become a junior sports psychologist for them after they read the study i co oversaw and wrote a journal on. after a brief interview, they offered it to me." she said with a glint in her eye. a familiar one to quinn, and one he saw regularly when she spoke about skating.

"how long did you know you wanted to work in sports psychology?" he questioned with a hint of softness, not knowing why she retired. she shifted in her seat a bit, "it wasn't until after the olympics, and when i came home. i knew i wanted to go to college just wasn't sure in what. took a bit before the winter deadline and everything that i had gone through up to that point, and decided on psychology. in hopes that i help somebody like the little girl in me needed, if that makes sense?" she explained with a slight giggle and to which, quinn nodded. "ofcourse ofcourse..but uh, what exactly was that? if you don't mind me asking." he said trying to gauge her reaction. "i never verbalized it until i retired, but my coach was extremely toxic. him and his assistant, always made sure i felt less than, that i always had an extra pound to lose or that i was too soft for the competition world. and once i won gold, i knew i was done. everything i had worked for paid off, but was it worth all the pain? that's something ill forever think about, but i wanted to pursue a study that would give me the ability to be a positive voice in a sport. at the end of the day." she finished and quinn sat back in marvel and in thought.

"for starters..im sorry you went through that. that should have never happened, and im sorry for never recgonizing it." he began, "but im glad that skaters up and coming could possibly learn from you and lean on you as a possible support system." he said with a small smile and she mirrored it. "thankyou q, what about you? what have you been up to? im sorry, i lost track after olympics. kinda dropped off that face of the earth." she mused with a slight blush. he waved her off, "no you are fine! well after being in michigan for two years, my family all moved over and then i got drafted to the NHL before playing for michigan for two seasons. and then headed off to vancouver. and now which, im the captain of." he said with the same slow - humble tone he'd always had. so unlike his brother, jack.

"thats so exciting q!! im so happy for you, you deserve it all. but yeah, i remember my mom saying something about you guys moving back to the states, a year before the olympics. how did you all adjust?" she inquired before sipping her drink. quinn chuckled, "jack thrived. absolutely thrived, loved it. luke, had a little bit of a harder time before adjusting well, and then me? well, i missed you guys a lot. i missed school, club, and the neighborhood friends i had. but after a while, hockey took all my time." he said shrugging, and that made her smile sadly. "im sorry q. i promise we missed you too." she said placing her left hand on his right, which was resting on the counter. the two of them looked down at it before she pulled it back.

as soon as quinn was about to speak, her phone began to ring. her eyes broke away from his to see livie's name pop up. she quickly accepted and brought her phone to her ear, "ill be there shortly!" she said before hanging up. she locked her phone, took one last sip of the iced drink and then looked over at quinn, who seemed to be hanging on the edge of his seat to speak. "well, it was great seeing you quinn but i must get upstairs to see liv." she said wrapping up her chocolate muffin. quinn nodded apprehensively as she stood up, a solemn look laced his features. "wh-can i see you again?" he questioned, standing up as she was turning towards the elevators. she stopped in her spot, before looking back at him. "id really like that, q." she hummed before smiling widely. "number the same?" he questioned and she nodded, "see you soon." he said with a slight nod and smile.

as she walked out of the elevator, she was met with livie standing in front of her. "oh hi." cecille said throwing her arms around her best friend. "eeee hi!" livie returned the favor, before pulling back. "wait! was that quinn who i saw at the bar with you?" she quickly questioned and cecille nodded, giving livie a opprurtunity to laugh wickedly.

✿

december rolled around when vancouver finally visited new jersey to square off against the hughes duo. and when the infamous ellen hughes found out about quinn seeing cecille in person, she made jack foot the bill as the host to get her ticket so she could sit with the family. so now cecille found herself walking into the arena with a vancouver shirt she found off of etsy, dark washed blue jeans, white sneakers, and a winter jacket on. ellen was waiting outside of the family box the boys had gotten, and as soon as she saw cecille step out of the elevator, she quickly made her way over to the girl.

"mrs hughes!" cecille said in surprise as ellen wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, before letting out some giggles. "its so good to see you my sweet girl! how are mum and dad?" ellen spoke warmly pulling away an arms length. "they're good! they actuallymoving to quebec after new years." she responded with a small smile, "how have you been? mr hughes?" she questioned. "call us ellen and jim sweetie, but we've been good! come on, lets get to our seats and we'll catch up." ellen smiled wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulder and walked them to the box.

the two were in a deep conversation when the boys came out for the anthem and puck drop. "y'know he hasn't stopped talking about you since you guys reconnected." ellen said looking over at the girl, as cecille eyes went back and fourth trying to find quinn. "really?" cecille said turning to meet her eye, and she knew ellen was telling the truth.

"it's great you guys have been catching up, it was rather hard for q to leave toronto. let alone leave us. he really struggled in the beginning, leaving all of you guys and school behind." she began to explain as cecille looked back out to instantly find him, "he loved being there, as did we. but you were the first friend he made out there and leaving you, was the hardest thing he had to do." ellen finished, without saying the words; but they were soulmates. either platonically or not. regardless, it was the type of friendship that leaves an imprint on you and a lasting impression. "and then you disappearing was devastating for him, hun." she added and cecille could feel the tear forming in her eyes.

leave it to ellen for always telling the truth, and being 100% honest. she had always loved that about her, but this? god, she could just about die at this moment.

"oh, wow." cecille said breathlessly, still in shock.

"you didn't know?" ellen questioned softly, and cecille shook her head no.

that's why he was so gungho on taking her out to dinner after the game, ellen thought.

"well im sure he'll tell you at some point." ellen said trying to diffuse the situation a bit as she gave cecille a small shoulder squeeze, before turning towards the ice.

cecille felt hands at her shoulders, and turned to look up to see jimmy. jimmy sat down, and the two now caught up with each other.

✿

after the canucks came out on top, cecille found herself sitting off to the side of the family box; deep in her thoughts. her foot shook as she crossed her leg over the other, looking out onto the now deserted ice. truth be told, her thoughts had been eating away at her for the entirety of the game. she felt hands for the second tonight on her shoulders, jerking her out of her thoughts. cecille jumped in her seat, before turning around to jack who had the wickedest grin on his face. "jesus fuck, jack." she said bringing a hand to her chest before smiling. jack opened his arms wide for the smaller girl and as soon as they hugged he spun her around. "goldie! how have you been?" he asked setting her down, and she softly smiled. "I've been pretty good!" she said modestly, and jack shook his head. "you work for the fucking knicks, that's fucking awesome!" he said not sparing niceties, to which she only laughed. "alright jacky, let me hug her." luke said walking over and cecilles eyes widened at how tall he was. he bent over and gave her a tight hug, before pulling away.

"who allowed you to get so tall?!" she said laughing with jack, "oh believe me, im pissed!" jack said pushing luke's shoulder. luke could only laugh, before turning around at hearing quinn's name.

"sorry about the game guys, you guys played wonderful." she said as they looked towards her, but they waved her off. "we all know why he was on his a - game tonight, don't we moose?" jack spoke turning towards luke, who took a second to register his comments but then profusely nodded. quinn quickly scanned the room of friends and family for the golden girl, and as soon as his eyes landed on her short self - a smile appeared on his face.

he made his way over and stopped in between his brothers, who were conversing with her. "q!" cecille said with a wide smile, "congrats on the win." but quinn couldn't hear her over the fact that she was wearing a vancouver canuck shirt. "quinnie." jack said under his breathe, alerting the eldest one. "oh yeah, thanks!" quinn said a bit flustered before looking up at cecille. "ofcourse! i was uh just telling the boys that i was actually on my way out for the evening. i have to be at the practice gym early tomorrow." she said a bit sad. quinn nodded not registering her words fully, "you sure you don't want to come to dinner with us?" luke asked and she gave him a small frown. "i wish i could, but i cannot. besides, i gotta get back to feed my cat her meds." she said with a slight shrug, "what if you and i go grab something quick?" quinn suggested quickly, and cecille knew she could not pass this up. "something quick, alright?" she confirmed and quinn nodded.

✿

the night ended rather too quickly for quinn, and without explaining his full feelings for the girl. leaving her rather confused and ponderd on where they stood. as the seasons winded down for the both of them, cecille got a text from jack asking if she wanted to visit the lake house for memorial day weekend. cecille accepted the invitation and was now just getting out of the uber.

"cecille!" she heard ellen's unmistakable voice from the front door, as she thanked the driver for the ride. "so good to have you with us!" ellen said jogging down the driveway to give her a hug. "who all is here?" cecille asked, as the two turned to walk up. "a lot of the boys friends from the program, college and their teams. you remember the tckachuk boys?" ellen questioned and cecille laughed whole heartedly, "how could i forget them? they're very hard to forget." she mused as jimmy opened the front door. "hi!" cecille beamed, giving jimmy a quick hug before he took her suitcase and carry on bag.

"i think the boys are all outside on the deck coo-" ellen was cut off by who walked in through the back door, and cecille turned to see who walked in. "cecille?" quinn asked as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he looked back at jack who was in the middle of telling a very animated story. "let me guess." quinn stated causing cecille to laugh, as she realized what jack had done. he invited her without quinn knowing, as a surprise.

"when is he not up to something?" she teased as he set down his drink before pulling her in for a hug.

they pulled apart, and turned away from one another as ellen walked up. "dad and i are gonna run to the store to grab some things, ok? please text us if you want anything, cecille!" ellen said walking past them with her purse. cecille nodded giving them both a small wave, before turning back towards quinn.

"you two get out here!" jack yelled, as she popped his head through the sliding door. quinn rolled his eyes, before jack shut the door.

quinn sighed turning back towards cecille with a smile, "would you wanna i don't know, hang out later? just the two of us?" he asked a bit nervously, and cecille nodded. "i could take you out on the boat?" he clarified and she smiled, "that'd be really nice q."

✿

later on in the evening nearing 11 o'clock, after hours of stolen glances and private smiles, the two found themselves out on the boat. cecille stood up at the front of the boat, as quinn watched on from the drivers seat. the night sky clear of fog and any clouds, allowed for the stars to be out in full force tonight. cecille turned a bit back towards quinn and smiled, in which he mirrored.

"watcha thinking about?" he questioned as she walked back towards him and sat down on the couch across from the drivers seat. truth be told, ellen's words from 5 months ago had been circulating all night. and now, they were even worse. she shook her head, bringing her knee to rest her chin on. quinn watched her body begin to tense, something he'd always been able to do back in their early teen years. "you can tell me anything, cille." he offered softly and she nodded in acknowledgment. as she toyed with how she wanted to approach the subject, she sighed.

"when i came to the game, your mom was very honest and open about you and your...feelings." she paused turning her lips inward as she bit the inside of her cheeks. "how..honest?" he asked full of anxiety before she could finish. cecille looked up and met his gaze, "forget i said anything." she said standing up and walking to the back end of the boat, with her arms crossed. "no, don't do that cecille. just tell me, please." he pleaded following her. she shook her head, as he turned her around to face him. "cille, what did my mom say?" he asked placing hands on both sides of her face and making her look up at him. "she spoke of how-how difficult it was for you to leave, and that it was even harder watching me disappear from the world. trust me! i didn't want to disappear but i had to, i wanted to close that chapter of pain and trauma and in turn, i shut you and everybody else completely." she began as tears began to form in her eyes. quinn shook his head as he wiped his thumb softly against her cheek, as he sniffled. she shook her head, "it was hard for me as well, watching you leave and then life got in the way. but i had planned and hoped to reconnect after the olympics but things just didn't work out as i had planned. i didn't feel like myself and didn't want to put myself through any unnecessary pain." she explained, before sniffling.

he shook his head, "i would have never said or done anything to make you feel any less than cille - i promise....but my mom is such a blabber mouth my god." he said pausing to chuckle, and in turn made her giggle.

on the verge of tears, he spoke, "my god, it was so hard to leave you. you were right behind my family, i almost didn't go because i didn't want to leave them. but i knew i was supposed to leave, and through it all- through everything I've always kept the belief that we'd meet again, somewhere in life we'd come together again. i always knew i'd come back to you, cille." he said through tears of his own now.

cecille felt herself on the verge of tears as she pulled him in for a kiss, one they'd thought about for years at that point, and how it would feel.

it felt even sweeter than originally anticipated.

quinn lifted her up and twirled her around, before breaking the kiss. the two looked at one another before quinn broke out into laughter, and it was contagious.

"i just know jacks about to have a field day." he said and that made cecille laugh loudly as well.

she knew it to be true.

im sorry it was so long lol

but i hope you enjoyed!!!

please like and reblog if you liked (:

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #jack hughes #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #equallyshaw masterlist #⚘ anna writes

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