#i hope you'll have fun reading 💗

[theflyingfeeling]

Hi dear, so excited to see you doing Valentines promts again!

How about Olli/Allu having a very moomin date? 👀

Hiiiiii! I'm so excited to be writing these again! <3 Here it comes, my first Valentine's Day prompt fic of the season! ✨

First of all, I'm not sure if this is moominous enough for you, sweet anon, but I hope you like it nevertheless 💖

Second of all, this maaaaaaay have gotten a little out of hand, and not only in terms of the wordcount. You'll see what I'm talking about when you read it 🤭

It's kind of an AU, but nothing too specific, just your regular no-band AU in which Olli and Allu meet each other for the first time (in person). Again, read and find out 🙏

.

.

words: 5708 (see? unnecesarily long 🙄 so you better make yourself a nice cup of something and just sit back for this one!)

rating: something between G and T, I guess 😅

trigger warnings: none, but prepare for a whole lot of pining and a bit of sillyness, as per usual 🥰

edit. now also on AO3 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Tinder date wants to take you where?”

Aleksi sighed as they stopped to wait for the traffic light to turn green.

“First of all, it’s not a date, and certainly not a Tinder one,” Aleksi corrected Niko for about the twelfth time that day. He still regretted telling his friend he was meeting this guy he had been chatting with on a discussion board almost daily for over a year. Too embarrassed to admit it was a platform for fantasy role play, Aleksi had seen it best to simply answer “online” when Niko had asked him how he had met Olli, which naturally had led to Niko promptly deciding “online” equalled a dating app. “Second of all, I don’t think he’s actually taking me to the Moomin Café, we’re only meeting there.”

“Of all the places in the city?” 

“It’s a recognizable landmark!” Aleksi exclaimed and proceeded to picture the two-metre Moomin statue that stood in front of the theme café dedicated to beloved literature characters. With a small smile forming on his lips, he then imagined his internet friend waiting for him beside it, hopefully wearing the cool leather jacket Aleksi had seen in pictures, and was almost left behind when Niko suddenly jaywalked across the street.

“Still,” his friend said when Aleksi strode to catch him up, “the place doesn’t exactly ooze romance.”

“I told you, it’s not–”

“Not a date? Then why on earth did you send me all those selfies of you posing in different outfits, asking for my opinion? I’ve never seen you want to impress anyone that bad without hoping to get in their Moomin sheets.”

“I’m not– wait, what?” Aleksi turned to look at Niko to see the man hardly able to hide his amusement.

“Well, since he’s taking you to a Moomin café I suppose he also has–”

“Just– just shut up, okay? Whatever he has in his bed is irrelevant because we are not–” Aleksi’s heart almost stopped when his eyes spotted the enormous Moomintroll down the boulevard and, indeed, a man he recognized as Olli standing next to it. To Aleksi’s mild disappointment, Olli wasn’t wearing the leather jacket but a simple outfit of black pants, a white t-shirt and what seemed to be a bucket hat on his head. He had a searching look in his eyes, stopping to glance at almost every passerby as his fingers fumbled with the zipper of the waist bag he was wearing across his chest.

“Is that him?” Niko whispered as they approached the front of the café.

“Y-yeah,” Aleksi said and cleared his throat, surprised to hear his own voice come out so hoarse and breathless, just because he caught a glimpse of his long-time internet friend for the first time in person.

All the way walking downtown, Aleksi had been annoyed by Niko’s insinuations about the date (which was not a date) with his online boyfriend (who was not his boyfriend), all the while trying to calm down the strange feeling in his stomach that he tried to explain with having drank too much coffee at breakfast (which he chalked up to barely having slept the previous night (because his head had been full of Olli and his rosy cheeks and gentle eyes until dawn, stuck in his mind after they had said goodnight to each other on Skype at two in the morning)). He had rolled his eyes at Niko’s merciless teasing, because there was no way he was going to admit he had been counting the days until they’d finally see each other face-to-face, sighing longingly or giggling into his pillow whenever he imagined even standing in front of Olli, mere metres away from all that charm and beauty that had Aleksi forget his lines during role play or smile to himself when he saw something that reminded him of Olli.

Maybe he’d even be bold enough to hug him. From Olli’s Instagram Aleksi had gathered Olli didn’t shy away from physical endearments, at least not with that curly-head blond Olli had told him was his best and oldest friend – “like a brother,” Olli had said, and Aleksi tried to ignore why hearing that had been such a relief – but of course Aleksi couldn’t know whether being physically affectionate applied only to Olli’s closest friends. He wouldn’t blame Olli for wanting to just nod at him from a respectful distance on their first meeting; he was still, all things considered, just some random dude he had started speaking with on the internet one blessed day.

They were roughly ten metres away from the entrance of the café when Olli finally noticed him. When their eyes met each other, the curve of Olli’s eyebrows softened and his lips parted, but then he directed his gaze to Niko walking next to Aleksi, and suddenly he looked just as lost and nervous as he had just moments before while he had been waiting for Aleksi to show up.

“Right, I guess this is where I leave you to it. If he turns out to be a serial killer or some other kinda lunatic, just give me a call and I’ll come rescue you, yeah?” Niko tapped Aleksi’s shoulder and skipped to the other side of the street before Aleksi could argue that he was pretty convinced Olli was neither of those things and that he wouldn't need to be rescued, thank you very much.

Aleksi saw Olli’s shoulders relax as he walked closer, then his lips starting to curve upwards. When there were only a few metres separating them, Olli glanced at the ground before looking up at Aleksi again, no longer able to hide his smile. 

“Hi,” Olli said softly and stretched out his arms towards Aleksi.

“Hi,” Aleksi sighed, and when Olli pulled him into a hug he was sure he was going to cry. Olli felt as soft as he looked and smelled even better than what Aleksi had imagined in his head, of honey and perhaps a hint of citrus. 

“So good to see you,” Olli said, much closer to Aleksi’s ear than he had anticipated, so close that it gave him goosebumps, even though in Olli’s embrace he felt warmer than he ever had in his life before.

“Yes, at last,” Aleksi agreed. All the sudden dopamine in his system made him so daring that he nudged the side of Olli’s head with his, causing the man’s hat to fall off. 

“Woops,” Olli laughed as he noticed the impact their embrace had on his headwear and finally let go of Aleksi.

“Sorry,” Aleksi smiled, crouching to pick up the hat. Handing it back to Olli, he noticed the Moomin character embroidered on it.

In his mind, he saw Niko raising his eyebrows knowingly.

“Shall we go in? They have an offer on cinnamon rolls today.”

Did I not tell you so? Aleksi heard Niko’s voice in his head. 

Yeah, and? Aleksi telepathically replied to his friend; with the way Olli was smiling at him, a little shy and his Groke bucket hat somewhat askew as he held the door to the café open for him, Aleksi would’ve walked through the gates of Hell if that’s where Olli wanted to take him.

Aleksi nearly gasped when Olli touched his lower black lightly as they entered the café, gently guiding him forward to the cosy coffee shop that filled Aleksi’s nostrils with the mixed aroma of brewed goods and freshly-baked bun. They didn’t say much as they stood in the queue to the counter, just sort of smiled at each other, and Aleksi wanted so much to pull Olli in for another hug or at least hold his hand a little.

“So, umm, who was that, by the way? The guy you came with,” Olli broke the silence between them. Aleksi was in a hurry to answer when he noticed Olli’s smile had begun to falter.

“Ah, that was just my friend Niko. He insisted on escorting me, like some sort of…chaperone. He once had a Grindr hook-up steal his sunglasses, so he doesn’t trust anyone he meets online anymore.”

(There was no point arguing with Niko that maybe he had just lost them himself, because why would someone run off with children’s heart-shaped sunglasses that were no use for anything, least of all for blocking the sun, as the lenses were glittery and tinted pink.)

“Oh, so he’s like Joonas,” Olli rolled his eyes. “I believe he’s sitting in that Starbucks on the other side of the street spying on us, in case you decide to brutally murder me in broad daylight.”

“I guess that just means they love us?” Aleksi shrugged amusedly. 

“I suppose so, but why they gotta be so weird about it?” Olli laughed and shook his head. His sunkissed curls swayed on his forehead, and Aleksi felt the same urge to sweep them off with his fingers (or with his lips maybe) that he had often felt when they had been laughing together at something silly via Skype. Olli probably noticed his dreamy expression, as he was soon to smile at the floor below their feet, an attractive blush spreading to his cheeks which looked even more velvety in real life.

It seemed they had winded up in the middle of the worst rush hour at the coffee shop, for it took them several minutes to reach the edge of the counter. When they finally did, Olli turned his back to Aleksi to get a tray from under it, revealing the illustration on the back of his shirt. Aleksi remembered having seen that exact t-shirt on Olli before, with the small text on the left side of his chest, so he was taken by surprise staring at the print of a mountain and a rainbow peeking from behind it.

“So, umm, do you come here often?” Aleksi asked, thinking it would be a less awkward conversation starter than “nice shirt”, which would’ve only revealed Aleksi had been checking out his backside (which was quite nice, there was no denying that), but then he realised how tacky the opening line he had gone for must have sounded; he had heard Niko hitting on unsuspecting guys and girls at the bar with that exact question every Friday night.

For that reason, Aleksi sighed in relief when Olli turned back to look at him with a small smile, neither embarrassed nor bothered by his corny (but accidental) pick-up line.

“Every now and then. Their muddler cake is heavenly,” Olli replied, then added in a lower voice: “although it is quite pricey.”

“Their what cake?”

“Muddler cake!” Olli beamed. “It’s like mud cake, but, you know…. Muddler,” Olli then pointed at the stack of Moomin mugs in front of them, his index finger directing Aleksi’s gaze to a purplish mug with a character wearing a saucepan for a hat.

“That’s a… muddler?”

“Yeah.” Olli’s grin was even wider when he picked the mug up and set it down on the tray. “And that’s his sweetheart, Fuzzy.” Olli showed Aleksi a pink mug with a character in a wedding gown decorating its side.

“Should I get that one then?” Aleksi smirked, hoping the flirt (this time intentional) would not go unnoticed by the other man.

“Actually I have something else in mind for you, hold on…”

Aleksi watched as Olli eyed the collection of mugs in different colours until his finger stopped at another one of purple colour. Aleksi couldn’t pride himself on knowing a whole lot about Moomins, but even he could identify the character on this one as Hemulen, the philatelist friend of the Moomin family.

“Hemulen? Care to tell me why?” Aleksi inquired, squinting his eyes at Olli, whose smile went from ear to ear by then.

“Well, you know, ‘cause he’s… bald. Like you.” The restrained laughter was obvious in Olli’s voice.

“You’re comparing my appearance to that of a hemulen?! I could so easily be offended, you know. I thought we had moved on from the bald jokes by now.” Aleksi sniffed dramatically, although he could no longer force back his own smile. He had gotten used to his friends ridiculing his new haircut weeks ago already.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. To be fair, you look nothing alike: at least Hemulen has some hair on his head.”

“You better be paying for those overpriced muddler cakes,” Aleksi muttered, pretending to appear insulted but failing horribly, judging by Olli’s heartfelt giggles. 

“Oh, that goes without saying. You can actually go and find us a table, I’ll order and pay.”

Aleksi left Olli at the counter and hurried to claim the window table for two that had just become vacant. He gently removed the Moominpappa plushie that was sitting on the other seat and put it on the windowsill. While Olli was making their order of muddler cake and possibly some other Moomin-themed treats, Aleksi stared out the window to watch the people passing by, although he hardly registered anything he was seeing.

He had been too nervous to confess his feelings to Olli via web camera, too afraid of rejection, too anxious when thinking about the possibility of Olli laughing it off instead of returning his feelings. Many times he had broken his own heart by imagining how Olli would’ve been outraged by Aleksi claiming to have a crush on him when they had never hung out in person, or how Aleksi would make it awkward by having assumed Olli was into guys when they had never really had that talk. It wasn’t long ago since Aleksi had come out of the closet to his family and closest friends, so he was still a little cautious about who he confided in and was yet to figure out how to bring it up in a casual conversation without being too blunt or clumsy about it, but he had tried dropping subtle hints along the way. While he wasn’t sure of Olli’s orientation yet, he couldn’t help but hope that the lingering looks and the rainbow on his shirt meant something.

Before Aleksi could allow his mind to wander too far from his current reality, Olli appeared opposite him with a soft oof as he set the tray on the table between them. On two plates there were pieces of the alleged muddler cake, and on a third there was a large cinnamon roll for them to share, Aleksi assumed. The Moomin mugs Olli had chosen for them were now filled, with Moomin characters drawn on the creamy topping. Aleksi noticed one of them had a small heart next to Moomintroll’s head, a detail the beverage Olli claimed for himself was missing.

He mentally added it to the list of Possible Signs He Likes Me Too (But Let’s Not Get Our Hopes Up). 

“Mmmmh,” Olli hummed when he sipped his coffee. The cream left a small white line above Olli’s upper lip, on the tufts of facial hair he was sporting there. The sight was too adorable for Aleksi to say anything about it.

“It’s so nice to finally hang out,” he said instead.

“It really is,” Olli agreed. “And to think we live so close to each other, what took us so long?” he chuckled into his cup, making the cream on top of it waver.

“I know, right?” Aleksi chuckled back, albeit knowing exactly why, at least on his part: he had been scared of appearing too eager or too creepy or too anything to suggest they meet face-to-face, until Olli himself had brought it up the other day.

He had to take a sip from his own mug to gain more courage for what he was about to say next.

“You know, I… I’ve been looking forward to this ever since we made the plans. I really enjoy your company.”

Olli stopped forking his chocolate cake to look into Aleksi’s eyes, his features so soft and endearing Aleksi wanted to lean over the table and snog him silly already.

“Me too,” Olli replied, and suddenly it wasn’t only the coffee warming up Aleksi’s insides. “In fact, I…” Olli laughed shortly and turned to admire the pastry on his plate again, “I’ve been so excited I’ve hardly slept lately.”

“Oh,” Aleksi said, because oh. “I mean, you too?”

“Yeah,” Olli laughed bashfully, and there was clearly something extremely interesting in his muddler cake, as his gaze was nailed to the plate. “I can only hope my poor neighbour downstairs hasn’t made a complaint about me for stomping around in the middle of the night.”

The image of Olli pacing back and forth his living room with an expression not unlike the one Aleksi had seen on his face outside the café, just because he was too thrilled about their date-that-was-not-a-date, made Aleksi fall for the man even harder, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. As far as Aleksi knew, no one had ever felt that way about seeing him before, or at least no one had ever confessed it to his face.

“Well. Now we’re here,” Aleksi smiled at the man, almost crossing his fingers under the table in a prayer for Olli to look up at him again and make him feel those sweet little butterflies in his stomach once more.

His wish was granted when Olli did exactly that, his smile cuter than ever, if that was even possible.

“Yes. Here we are.”

After the sort-of confessions and the slight awkwardness was over and done with, their still-not-a-date-but-kinda-starting-to-look-like-one advance more relaxedly as they moved on to talk about the topics they usually discussed, from music to sci-fi movies to their favourite show wrestlers, until both their mugs were empty and there was nothing but crumbs left on their plates. They had spent over an hour just chattering away, but then Olli glanced at his watch and the approach of their inevitable parting began to hollow out Aleksi’s chest.

“I’m sorry, I’ve kept you to myself for too long, you must have other things to do today,” Aleksi said, although he would’ve done anything to keep Olli to himself just a little longer.

“I don’t, actually. Nothing but a pile of laundry waiting for me at home,” Olli answered as they stood up. The black bucket hat Olli put back on his curly head had seemed a little silly to Aleksi at first, but now he wished he wouldn’t have to let it out of his sight. “What about you? Any plans for the evening?”

“No, not really. But I should be going back home soon, or else Rilla will sulk at me for the rest of the day.”

Olli’s eyes brightened at the mention of the dog. “Oh, Rilla! I wish I could meet her too one day, I always love it when you show her on Skype.”

A wild thought popped up in Aleksi’s head; a silly, unimaginable, and completely absurd thought, but he decided to give it a try anyway.

(Niko wouldn’t have to know.)

“Why don’t you come and meet her now? My place is only a short bus drive away. That is, if you think your pile of laundry can wait a little longer still.”

The Groke hat did an excellent job at shading half of Olli’s face when they stepped outside in the sun, but Aleksi could still make out the smile sneaking on Olli’s lips, slowly but surely.

“I suppose the dirty socks won’t miss me too much.”

~

Niko would be disappointed if he knew, Aleksi thought to himself almost the first thing he opened his eyes the next morning.

Almost, because his first thought had been how cute Olli’s little snores sounded next to him.

His second thought had been how soft Olli’s hair looked, dishevelled and covering his eyes, before Aleksi had reached his hand to sink his fingers in it to discover it was exactly as soft as it looked.

And his third thought had been how enticing Olli’s lips were, how heavenly they had felt against his own the night before, how he couldn’t wait until Olli woke up so he could get a taste of them again.

Then, maybe as his fourth thought of the day, he could spare one for his poor friend, who only wanted the best for him. However, considering Olli was yet to show his homicidal tendencies by stabbing him with a kitchen knife, ransacking his entire house and kidnapping Rilla, Aleksi allowed himself to bask in the knowledge that Niko had been wrong, for once in his life.

They had entered the house with Rilla barking at Olli and Olli awwing at Rilla, until they had come to a mutual agreement of liking each other a lot, or so Aleksi gathered by the way they had later that evening snuggled on Aleksi’s sofa, almost making him feel like the third wheel. Aleksi had cooked them pasta for dinner and they had walked Rilla at sunset, admiring the colour of the horizon and finally holding hands when they had turned back home at the end of Aleksi’s street. Glasses of red wine had been poured and long, yearning looks had been exchanged as they had sat around Aleksi’s kitchen table until the wee hours, talking and laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company, after months of wanting to do nothing but that, but somehow both of them being too afraid to make the first move, as Aleksi had figured by then. 

Olli had already been on his way to the front door, out of Aleksi’s desperate reach, but something had stopped him, had made him stay, made him linger in Aleksi’s touch when they had hugged one last time. 

Aleksi’s breath had caught up in his throat and all his thoughts had fallen out of his useless head when Olli had glanced at his lips once, twice, perhaps a third time if Aleksi had given him the chance before bringing his own to Olli’s; he could no longer stand just imagining what kissing Olli would be like.

Now he knew; soft and delicate at first, almost hesitant, until Olli would wrap his arms firmly around Aleksi’s body and devour him, push himself even closer to Aleksi, despite the fact they were already pressed tightly together, skin on skin, mouth to mouth, heart to heart.

The bed had creaked when they had fallen on it, but soon after the room had been filled with entirely different kinds of sounds. If Aleksi wasn’t still flying high on the euphoria he had felt then, he might have been embarrassed about how needy he must have sounded. Instead, he was comforted by finally being sure Olli shared his sentiments, needed him close just as much as he needed Olli. Aleksi almost laughed out loud when he thought back to all that pining and wondering he had gone through over the past months, blind to the fact it had all been mutual; that Olli had felt exactly the same all along. 

Now, with the dawn already greeting them behind the curtains of Aleksi’s bedroom, Aleksi smiled as his unexpected (but oh so desired) overnight guest shifted beside him, nuzzling his cheek against the pillow. 

“Are you awake yet?” Aleksi asked him.

“Mmmmmmmhhhh,” Olli groaned in a way that sure awoke certain places of Aleksi’s body. “Maybe.” Olli’s speech was muffled by the pillow.

“Well, I suppose you’ll let me know when you’re awake enough to continue where we left off last night. I’m kinda missing those lips of yours, you know.”

Said lips then curved into a lazy grin (and almost burst Aleksi’s heart with bliss when doing so).

“C’mere then,” the lips mumbled, and Aleksi didn’t need to be told twice.

His plan of spending the morning in bed uninterrupted was threatened, however, when he heard a quiet ping from his bedside table.

Accompanied by loud objections from Olli below him, Aleksi reached for his phone to find a notification from a new WhatsApp message from Niko.

How did the Tinder date go? Please answer or I’ll assume you’re lying dead in a dumpster.

Aleksi giggled while writing his reply, with Olli peppering his chest with small kisses.

It was… Moominous 😏

Then Aleksi put his phone on silent, leaving Niko to wonder what ever he meant by that, and turned his attention back to something a little more urgent.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[Meanwhile at the Starbucks across the street:]

The moment he stepped in the coffee shop and saw the man sitting by the window, Niko recognized him immediately; the bright blonde curls, the expressive blue eyes, and the plump red lips that were now pursed around a straw instead of Niko’s dick. The man was even wearing the same DIY style jean jacket he had thrown on the floor of Niko’s bedroom when they had made haste to undress each other on that steamy summer evening some weeks ago. The name scribbled on the plastic cup he was holding also matched the one imprinted on Niko’s memory.

On his forehead, half buried in the fluff of messy curls, Niko spotted a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses.

“You!” Niko gnarled at Joonas, who slowly moved his gaze from the window to Niko’s direction.

“Huh?”

“Thief!” Niko spat once he was standing next to Joonas’ table. It appeared seeing the man again after that night triggered something in him that resulted in only being able to form single-word sentences.

“Excuse me?” The way Joonas squinted his eyes told Niko his face didn’t ring a bell to him.

“Those are mine!” He pointed at the sunglasses resting on Joonas’ locks.

“Ummm, no they’re not? Also, who are you again?”

Niko clenched his fists; the audacity of this man, first for taking possession of his property, and secondly for not even remembering “the best cock he had ever had”.

“Those are my sunglasses that you stole from me after you… you know, after we…” Niko was hesitant to continue, nodding politely at the couple with two young kids in the next table following the scene with disapproval written on their faces.

“...After you ran away from wherever they were keeping you and you mistook me for someone else?” Joonas offered unhelpfully, a mix of confusion and amusement gleaming in his big, annoyingly alluring eyes.

Pure spite had Niko leaning in to whisper in Joonas’ ear.

“Don’t you dare pretend you don’t remember me when I milked you so good you probably couldn’t remember your own mother’s name for days afterwards.”

Niko closed his eyes and bit his lip when he felt Joonas’ hot breath in his ear, memories of their night together coming rushing back and going straight to his groin.

“Bold of you to assume that doesn’t happen to me every Saturday night.”

“You are unbelievable,” Niko growled back before standing up. “I’m afraid that makes little difference though. I’m here to collect back what’s mine, whether you plead guilty or not.” He straightened his hand towards Joonas as a request to be handed back his stolen possessions.

“Wait, are you actually being serious? You really think I’ve taken your sunglasses?”

“I know you’ve taken them!”

“I’ve never met you in my life, you madman!” Joonas insisted with creases on his forehead as he stood up and headed to the door. Niko followed him outside, not wanting to let those sunglasses out of his sight again.

“I don’t know what you were on that night to have been blessed with such a severe amnesia, but we have met before!”

“May I inquire where or when you think that happened?” Joonas’  lopsided grin was just as charming as the first time Niko had seen it. It made him furious.

“A couple of weeks ago. At that new LGBTQ club. After… after you DMed me on Grindr.”

“The Queer Room?” Joonas appeared to be racking his brain for a moment, then he shrugged. “Sorry, honey. I can’t say you’re the first guy with whom I’ve been palling around there.”

Joonas’s face looked genuinely apologetic, which made Niko wonder if he really was as clueless as he seemed, or whether he himself had imagined the whole encounter in his daydreams.

Still, it didn’t solve the mystery of his missing sunglasses, the sunglasses he was sure were the exact same ones the blond guy was now lowering on his nose.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to refresh my memory,” Joonas flashed that awful, sly, stunning smile of his again. 

“You wish.”

“Suit yourself,” Joonas shrugged again. “See you later, strange sunglass gu–”

Niko was livid at himself, for letting himself be bullied to take such desperate measures, but the deeper he stuck his tongue down Joonas’ luscious mouth, the more of it he wanted, had wanted since Joonas had sloppily kissed him goodbye before stumbling out of his bedroom.

They were both a little breathless when they broke the kiss. It took a while for Niko to realise Joonas was still holding Niko’s lower lip in between his teeth, until the man sucked on them one more time before letting Niko go. Niko’s own fists were still gripping the collar of Joonas’ jean jacket tightly.

“Wow. I can’t believe you actually gave in.”

…Wait.

“What?!”

“And I can’t believe you fell for that? Man, the Theatre Academy has no idea what they missed when they rejected me,” Joonas chuckled, wiping his mouth.

“You–” Niko let go of the man to inhale and exhale a few times before continuing, “you do remember me.”

Joonas tilted his head. “Oh, babes, I saw you bounce across the street before you walked in.” Then he lifted his hand to touch Niko’s chin. “I was instantly reminded of the night we shared.”

“Yet you have no memory of committing a theft?” Niko crossed his arms on his chest and lifted his chin to meet Joonas’ stare.

“That I genuinely don’t, because it never happened. Maybe this is just your subconscious telling you you miss me…”

“Oh, fuck off,” Niko snapped, trying to ignore Joonas’ hand sneaking on his hip. “The only thing I’m missing from that night are my fucking sunglasses!”

His outburst made Joonas sigh and roll his eyes. “Clearly you are not ready to consider the possibility we might own identical ones and that yours are just somewhere in your car or apartment.”

“Clearly you’re not ready to admit you mistook those as yours and just took them without asking!”

“Look,” Joonas moved his hand on Niko’s shoulder, “we could do this the whole day. Let’s just go to your apartment and–”

“So that you can steal more of my property?!”

“–AND I will help you find your stupid sunglasses! Since they’re so goddamn important to you.”

The thing was, they weren’t even particularly dear to Niko; in fact, they were more or less a kids’ toy, something he had bought as a joke when tipsy from margaritas, and pretty much useless if you needed something to shade your eyes from the sun. It was more about principle and dignity than anything else. (Tommi had not stopped giving him shit ever since Niko had told him about the incident.)

“And also to prove my innocence,” Joonas added, his lips pouting.

“Something tells me you haven’t been innocent since you came out of your mother’s–”

“You leave my mom out of this!” Joonas yelled at him from behind him when Niko began walking towards the bus stop. He made sure to wipe his smile off by the time Joonas caught him up.

~

“Where have you seen them last?” Joonas asked. They had been rummaging through Niko’s two-room for nearly ten minutes, and still the only pair of heart-shaped sunglasses they had seen were the ones sitting on Joonas’ head.

“On that chair in the hallway. Where you took them from.”

“Oh, just drop it already,” Joonas frowned. “You do realise I have things to do and places to be, yet I’m here helping you put your mind at ease about this puzzle, out of the pure kindness of my heart?”

The remark made Niko’s mouth snap shut. If (if!) Joonas was being truthful and knew nothing about Niko’s glasses, it truly was rather considerate of him to be there with Niko, turning his apartment upside down in search of the cursed piece of accessory, even if he also had his own reputation at stake.

“Well, they’re not under the sofa cushions either,” Joonas sighed and threw them back on the couch before slumping on them himself. “Is there a place we still haven’t looked?”

“I doubt they’re in the oven or in the bathroom sink cabin.”

“Oh, I’d check those too if I were you, just to be sure. You don’t wanna know where my friend Olli once found his phone after an unusually wet night out.”

Joonas’ anecdotes, as intriguing as they were, were of little help in their current task, so Niko decided he’s better off not knowing indeed.

“Did you check all your pockets yet? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve panicked, thinking my wallet’s been stolen when I had just forgotten it in the breast pocket of another jacket.”

“They’re not in my pockets.”

“Did you check though?”

Niko groaned at Joonas’ persistent eyebrow raise, but turned on his heels nevertheless. Once in the doorway, he started groping the jackets and shirts hanging from the coat rack.

“They’re not in my pockets, because I never put them in my–”

His hand touched something hard inside his grey hoodie, making him freeze.

Because he never did put his sunglasses in his pocket, not since his new Ray Bans had dropped on the pavement and broken into pieces. However, there they were, as if by some miracle, even though Niko could’ve sworn over his 00s nü metal CD collection that he had not put them there.

Or… maybe he had? His brain was too confused to make any sense of the situation.

“Oh, hey, you found them!” Joonas rejoiced as he joined Niko in the dim hallway. “Well, looks like you owe me an apology.”

The smile on Joonas’ lips was sweet as ever, and Niko couldn’t wait to wipe it off.

“Oh, I‘ll show you an apology,” he murmured and began pushing Joonas towards the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s notes:

Aaaaahh it’s been a while since I last wrote an “after-credits” scene 🥰

I wanted to include Aleksi’s Moomin sheets somehow but I couldn’t think of a convenient way to do that (i.e. I didn’t want to make the fic any longer than it already was), so you’re just gonna have to do the job yourself and imagine they woke up in Aleksi’s Moomin sheets 💕

Muddler / Fuzzy / Hemulen (the new Hemulen one looks so nice 😍)

Moomin coffee art

The Moomin Café referenced here is partly a product of my imagination. The only Moomin café in Finland at the moment is at the Helsinki-Vantaa international airport. There used to be one in Helsinki but it was closed during the covid lockdown and from what I've heard/seen, they did have Moomin mugs (duh!), gigantic cinnamon rolls, and Moomin plushies that you could position on the chairs to keep you company (I never had the chance to go there 😔). I assume the Moominworld theme park in Naantali also has some kinda Moomin café (I’ve never been there either :\)

Muddler cake -> not a thing, I completely made that one up 😂 It’s ridiculous, I know, but I just couldn’t help myself with the word play!

...Sooooo, did the incident with the heart-shaped sunglasses go as told here, or did Joonas actually take Niko’s by accident, not realising this until he was at home, and then proceeded to keep them with him at all times in case he’d run into Niko again (let’s assume they hadn’t exchanged numbers and Niko had been so outraged about his stolen sunglasses that he had deleted Grindr) and then just put them in Niko’s pocket when Niko wasn’t looking, because why should he just admit he had taken them, especially with Niko storming in the Starbucks accusing him of theft, when he could play with Niko a little instead? Who knows 😏)

[enha-doodles]

Hey can you do a reaction to Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a bookworm ?

Thankyou 💗💗

SLYTHERIN GUYS REACTION TO YOU BEING A BOOKWORM | ✧⁺。

Pairing : ( Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco ) x reader

Note : tysm for the request and i hope you enjoy it hehe 🤭🤭

Warnings : none

Mattheo Riddle

Even though Mattheo thinks reading sessions are about as thrilling as watching paint dry compared to his usual parties, he puts on a brave face for your sake because he loves you so much . He sticks around while you bury your nose in books, though his mind might wander to livelier activities. Despite the occasional yawn, he's willing to endure the quiet moments for his darling , he is a romantic and caring guy afterall

Tho he'll complain and whine all the while you won't pay attention to him and roll his eyes upon your books

Tom Riddle

Tom secretly enjoys the peaceful vibe when you're both lost in your own literary worlds. He won't admit it out loud, but he finds it oddly comforting to share comfortable silences with you, even if he'd rather be plotting world domination. Who knew the Dark Lord had a soft spot for reading?

He'd leave some of his books on your table so you'd read them , he loves seeing you smile while you read something interesting especially of his choice , your reactions making him obsessed fall deeper for you .

Theodore Nott

Theodore scratches his head trying to figure out why you're so obsessed with books, but he's a good sport about it. He might ask you why on earth you spend so much time with your nose buried in pages, but hey, to each their own, right? As long as you're happy, he's cool with it, even if he doesn't get it.

He is someone who is smart without much effort - that is the reason he doesn't understand your affection with books , which also has some people wonder why he's not into ravenclaw but then his Slytherin tendencies prove his loyalty to his house

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo is like a kid in a candy store when he realizes you both share a love for books. He's all in, racing you to finish books first and gleefully bragging when he beats you to the last page. Who knew reading could be such a competitive sport? But hey, it's all in good fun, right?

He's also a very literature typa guy so he'd have you on his lap while you're cuddled into him and you're both reading the same book . You have many of your dates in the library and none of you seem to mind .

Draco Malfoy

Draco puts up a fuss about your bookworm tendencies, claiming they're not even close to being as exciting as qudditch or poker or any other rich kid shit he has done . But secretly, he's low-key intrigued by what you're reading. He'll grumble about it, of course, but then he'll sneakily ask about the plot or characters, trying to act like he's not interested. Classic Draco, always putting on a show.

He's also very bratty so he'll be annoyed af if he's speaking and you'll tell him to shut up because you're on a good part atm coz sweetheart does he look like he cares ? He does

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies! (2/3)

🌸 @csevet asked:

hi my copy of iyhm just came in and my fiancee and i snuggled up and read the whole thing cover to cover and CRIED!!! i love when lesbians 💕💞💝💗💝💗💘💞💖💗💝

AHHHHH thank you SO much!!! OMGGGGG 🥺 live laugh lesbian..... 💞💗💖💕💖💞💕💖💗

🌸 @chrysalis-the-butterfly asked:

I read If You'll Have Me a few months ago and I loved it! Your art is so pretty and Momo and PG are such cool characters! 🥰 If you're okay with sharing, I'd be interested to hear what inspired you during the creative process? Were there any pieces of media or any other characters which influenced the formation of Momo and PG? Or did you do your own thing?

oh my gosh! thank you!! i really love character interactions and relationship dynamics, so i wanted to depict two girls who seemed like opposites - one cool and laid-back, the other soft and sweet. after a while they started to take on a life of their own, and i thought it'd be wonderful if their story could evoke the feeling of a shoujo romance!

i had a lot of things on my mind when i wrote the script... friendship, intimacy, communication... communication can be so hard! sometimes it's harder with someone you're close to because their opinion is so important to you. and what happens when you've got a character who's non-confrontational and has low self-esteem + someone who prefers actions over words, and would rather burn bridges than admit to feeling vulnerable? how would they get past that? i wanted to write their flaws as believable, and how their life experiences have shaped the way they think about themselves / the way they respond to personal conflict... but also how they learn from each other and grow ❤️ tysm for the question!!

@bisexualgoof asked:

Hi Eunnie! I just finished reading “If You’ll Have Me” and let me tell you, it was spectacular! I saw it in a local bookstore the other day and it was a no brainer to grab. The characters are so fun, the story is beautiful and heartfelt, and honestly every character is attractive… I especially fell in love with the pages of the books without words, especially 312-313, it made me cry. Such beautiful art! I related to PG’s annoyance with her long hair, I felt very seen with her comments. I’ve definitely said “I’d like to forget” so many times myself, right to my butch heart haha. Thank you for sharing this story with the world, and thank you in particularly for your acknowledgment at the end of the book, it made me feel seen. What an amazing love story, hope to see more of this adorable couple in the future!

oh my goodness!! this is so lovely and wonderful and ahhh T_T thank you so very much. it's such a dream, having these girls be out in the world with their personalities and backstories revealed at last! and i'm so happy to hear about the cast and side characters, i love designing people hehe ♥ i'll definitely keep drawing this couple, alongside more sapphic couples that are to come 😍 thank you!!

🌸 @skittles-rainbow-cat asked:

HI HI HI!!! you’ve been one of my fave artists forever and i just got done with iyhm and it’s sooooo amazing im in love with it. also i think strawberry blonde by chloe moriondo fits mono and pg very well :] i hope you’re having a good day and thank you for all your art it heals me in many ways <3333

HIIII omg!!! thank you so much! this song is so cuteeee oh my gosh this line:

Takes my hand in hers when the lights aren’t on Smaller than mine and oh god I am gone

it's so sweet ;_; thank you forever, i hope you're having a wonderful day!! <3 <3 <3

🌸 @lord-of-the-froggies asked:

Howdy Eunnie! I know you're probably swamped with work right now, but I just wanna let you know that I got my copy of your book today!! I'm gonna start reading it right away, it looks and feels amazing. From a fellow Washington artist to another--congratulations on such a huge achievement!

yay hello fellow washingtonian! and fellow artist!! thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 and i'm so glad the book got to you safely! wishing you a happy read~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just found your art today and after scrolling through your stuff I went and pre-ordered your book. I'm so excited!!

omggg thank you that means so much!!! ;_; <3

🌸 @ddooyoung asked:

I got my (signed!) copy of the book, and I love it SO MUCH. It's everything I was hoping and more. I love finally getting to know them, especially Momo. Since the first time I saw them, I thought Momo was a lot like me and now I have confirmation 😆 Thank you so much for writing such a wonderful story!!! I'm excited for everything you do 💗

WAHH thank you so much!! yesss i'm so overjoyed to finally share their story after so long! i hope the signature turned out okay, i was very nervous signing books for the first time (shaky hand and everything) 😱 i think next time it would be fun to make a custom stamp and stamp a doodle next to my signature hehe. thank you again!!! 💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I somehow missed the news about your having created a whole damn book?? was just flipping through yu & me books's holiday gift guide and did a double take when I saw priscilla and momo!! zoomed in and sure enough, there was your name at the bottom! congrats on ihym and congrats on being featured on rec lists from shops as cool as yu & me 🎉😍

omggg thank you thank you!! 🥰 AHHH yu & me books looks so amazing! i've been to new york just once but if i ever get to go back i have to visit them... i'm always looking for indie bookstores to throw my money at 😤

🌸 Anonymous asked:

1. Will there be an “if you’ll have me” sequel? 2. Is Momo her full name or a Nick name? If it’s a Nick name what is her full name? Thank you i love your work! ❤️😊

ahh there's no sequel planned as of right now! but i'd love to make one if i get the chance... i have some ideas that i think would be fun <3 and momo gardner is her full name! i liked gardner because it made me think of flowers ☺️❤️ thank you so much!!

🌸 @upsidedown-shadow-dreamer asked:

Hello, long time fan here. If You'll Have Me was delivered an hour ago and I've already finished my first read. OMG it's AMAZING. I love the story, the beautiful art, the inner thoughts, the pacing, the page color changes for back story… Just major WOW. I hope you are so proud of this work. I'm already looking forward to reading it again. Thank you!!!

this is sooooo AHHHHH T_T i'm in tears. i can't tell you how happy and thrilled i am to hear this!!! it's so encouraging and uplifting and ahh!! i want to make more stories... and just knowing that this book will be read by the same person more than once, omg! it's truly the highest of praise. thank you from the bottom of my heart <333

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hello!! I just remembered I could borrow graphic novels as e-books from my local library, found IYHM, devoured the entire thing in one sitting, then went through your tags so I could look at all your other IYHM art, and I was wondering if you'll make more stories about Momo and PG because I can't get enough of them! Absolutely obsessed with these two and I love seeing them so happy together 💖💖💖💖

hello!! oh i'm absolutely over the moon about this! i can definitely see myself making a follow-up book if i'm so lucky 🙏 but i'll keep on drawing more minicomics and illustrations no matter what!! thank you so much for this wonderful message 💕💕💕💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

hi!! love love love your art!!! do you think we can expect to see another graphic novel about momo and priscilla in the future?

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I’ve read IYHM so many times already and I absolutely loved it!!!! Are you planning on writing another book with Momo and PG? Is is there a way we can buy more of your stories?

thank you both so much!!!! <3 a sequel is actually one of the ideas i pitched for my second book! my editor cautioned against it in case IYHM didn't perform well, so i ended up going in a different direction - but my fingers are crossed for future opportunities 😤 realistically, it will probably depend on sales... but for the record, i'd want to do one regardless of the numbers...

i have one more book coming out, which i'm working on right now! the timeline is a bit up in the air atm but i'll try to keep everyone posted. making a book is so slow but i'm so grateful to you all for waiting 🥺💛

🌸 @randomqueernoun asked:

Do you make webcomics for other apps/websites? If yes where can I find them and what do I search in them to find your comics?

ahh not at the moment! but thank you SO much for the interest! one of my biggest goals right now is to set up a website where i have all my work in one place, and that would definitely be the place where i post future webcomics 👀

also, just as an aside... i want to make webcomics so bad. i think after my next book, i might take a break from traditional publishing to do that. sometimes i can't believe i'm drawing hundreds of pages i can't post... i'm like, how are people supposed to read this if i can't show them? how will they know?! ahh it kills me... but yes... someday!!!

part 3 to come~

[woncon]

hi i read your stories and you're awesome!! can i please request a san and wooyoung scenario where they're making coffee for you in the morning?

Hi dear Anon! 🥰

Thank you for the kind words & the request. I'd a fun time writing it. I hope you'll like it too! 💗💗

➳ a cup of care

➶ poly!woosan x gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ San forgot to take the coffee machine to the mechanic. But instead of admitting it, he wants to become a home barista, making coffee for you every morning until he can actually take the machine to the repairman.

When Wooyoung finds out what he's up to, he won't tell you. He decides to help to keep San's secret and make nice coffee so you won't tell the difference.

Keeping it from you may seem easy.

It's not.

➴ genre: fluff, light angst, estabilished relationship, polyamory

: ̗̀➛ warnings: half-naked san, who is also a baby

⌨ :: 2.3K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ kisses and hugs for @honeytwo!!

➳ ateez masterlist | main masterlist

At 5:30 on a Monday morning, Wooyoung strode out into the kitchen. He was looking for San to drag him back to bed. You both slept easier and deeper when the boy was there. You clung to him eagerly, and he usually couldn't even slip away without you being alarmed that he was gently shaking you off him.

Wooyoung expected San to come for a glass of water. That was not the case. The broad-shouldered boy in his pyjamas leaned against the kitchen counter and watched a video in contemplation. At his fingertips were a colander, a bag of what looked like cat food, mugs and the kitchen scale.

Wooyoung curiously ventured closer. The parquet floor creaked under his socked feet.

San turned around like the hyperventilating protagonist of a horror film.

“Hi!” He paused the video so quickly that his phone fell on its face.

“Hi…” Wooyoung took a closer look at the prepared equipment. He picked up the filter and poked the bag. There was something hard inside. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of workout stuff? Or poison?”

“Poison?” San laughed awkwardly and shook his head as if he'd been caught.

“Are you... okay?”

“Of course. I just, uh, wanted to surprise you. Could you go back to bed and keep it a surprise?” San patted Wooyoung's waist. “I promise I'll be ready quickly.”

Wooyoung took pity on him. It was like San to wake up at sunrise to surprise the two people he loved the most. He didn't want to bother him any longer. He pressed a consenting kiss to San's cheek and would have turned back to try to fall back asleep in your embrance, but noticed the pattern at the bottom of the bag.

It was minimalist and almost blended into the caramel colour of the bag, but it was there nonetheless. Three coffee beans. It wasn't cat food, then.

Wooyoung blinked. He walked around San then held the bag in front of his face, and the heavy scent emanating from it immediately hit him in the nose. He pointed incredulously at San, whose neck was flushed.

“You forgot!” he said in disbelief.

“I have not!”

The other walked over to the coffee machine, plugged it in and tried to turn it on. It did the same thing it had been doing for the last few days: all the buttons flickered red and the machine whined, as if it would die at any moment and couldn't make the slightest coffee.

“Oh, but you forgot.” Wooyoung patted the poor steam and turned off the power. “Y/n specifically asked you to do that, remember? They even made your breakfast so you'd write down in your diary the appointment they'd booked with the plumber. And you forgot.”

San pouted in surrender. “Why are you mocking me now?”

“I'm just having a little fun.” Wooyoung grinned. “I'm usually the bad boyfriend here.”

“You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“But I forget more often than you, pearl of men.” Wooyoung looked through the assorted tools again. “So?”

“So what?”

“How can I help you?”

“You want to help?” San was surprised. “I thought you were going to tell our baby.”

“‘Course not. I don't want them to be sad. I'll help make sure they get their coffee and don't notice the difference until the machine is fixed.”

“See, Woo?” San's all brightened up. He stroked Wooyoung's face. “You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“Still, I'll help you cover up your forgetfulness.”

“Because you're my great boyfriend.” San pulled him close and showered him with kisses.

Wooyoung carefully pushed him away. It wouldn't have ended well if the coffee project hadn't progressed, because they were kissing and slowly forgetting about everything but each other.

“So where do we start?”

San set up his phone, tilted it at the microwave again, and they both dug into the information presented to them on how to make quality, home-brewed coffee.

****

Only five days. That's how long they had to wait before San could actually take the coffee machine to the mechanic. The earliest the man could meet San was Saturday afternoon. In the meantime, the two boys not only had to make homemade coffee by grinding and filtering, but also to make the coffee taste very similar to the one the machine made. Wooyoung took on the role of the pre-taster.

You liked the coffee on Monday. Although you noted that the program seemed to be quieter this time, you didn't find the taste strange. San laughed and wiped a spot of coffee off the edge of your mouth.

"I think you just slept too deeply. In the kitchen it was as loud and lively as ever. The mechanic did a good job."

As you took your next sip, he glanced warily at Woooyung.

The next day, Wooyoung played coffee machine sounds from his phone while San ground coffee beans. You drank again, this time making no comment on the missing mechanical sounds.

On the third day, Wednesday, you resented that neither of them were with you anymore. You got up early and called them.

“Shit! They're coming!” San tried to cover up his intimate parts like a caught-in-act lover: the filter, the cups, and of course the bag of coffee beans he hid in various places around the apartment as if they were a dangerous piece of his tainted past - even though he had no tainted past.

“Go, distract them!” Wooyoung took up the grind that day. He didn't want to stop, especially since his skin had soaked up the smell of coffee beans that his sense of smell was completely dulled. Of course, you would have smelled it. 

Wooyoung didn't want questions about why he smelled thick and heavy like fresh coffee beans.

"Okay," San nodded. “Okay.”

Then he took off his pyjama top. Wooyoung's eyes widened. He didn't mean it that way, he would have added, but San and his refreshing body were gone.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” his question filtered out from the living room. “I'd be happy to wash your back.”

Of course, you couldn't say no to that.

San had handled the emergency well enough, Wooyoung admitted. He had meanwhile finished his fresh coffee peacefully and even toyed with the idea of opening a coffee shop for a moment. He served it with a wide smile, and bathed contentedly in the showery scent of your neck and the melody of your appreciative humming, as if you knew he made it for you, not the coffee machine.

Everything went smoothly on Thursday, they even finished faster than before. They were really practiced and coordinated. They had time to lie back down next to you and gently caress you into wakefulness.

Wooyoung enjoyed the week, and even if the thought of failing at some point occurred to him, he dismissed the idea. They were a good team, and so far they'd done a great job, making delicious coffees and putting big smiles on your face with their hot brews. If you'd mentioned the coffee smell, he'd have bought a coffee shower gel to explain it. He and San ran through many scenarios to prepare for possible danger. Two more days was not the end of the world.

Although, you seemed to want to bring the world to an end. You also wanted to have a cup of coffee on Friday afternoon.

“Since the coffee machine got fixed, the coffee tastes better. And I'm busy, I need to recharge,” you said.

Your boyfriends couldn't let you touch the machine. The minute you turn it on, they're busted, even though they've been so good at hiding San's screw-up. They had another quick look.

“How about we go to that coffee shop you always daydreams about?” Wooyoung suggested.

“Really?” You froze, a faint frown of thought appearing on your face. “But it's an expensive place.”

"We want to make you happy," San nodded. “It's worth every penny.”

And of course they would have gone to great lengths to make sure you didn't even look at the coffee machine for a few more days.

“Well, okay," you smiled in agreement.

Friday's panic situation had been well averted. Wooyoung now really thought they were on the straight and narrow, only one brewed coffee away from success. 

Well, Wooyoung hadn't factored San's Saturday morning breakdown into his immediate future.

As usual, they divided the duties. San ground the coffee beans, and Wooyoung set the Bluetooth speaker at just the right angle to make sure you could hear the coffee machine sounds playing and soothe you half asleep.

“Woo…”

Wooyoung looked up. It was rare to see San like that. He was a strong mountain, straight and taut. But now he was hunched over the counter, looking powerless. His eyes radiated uncertainty.

“I think I am the bad boyfriend.”

“What?” Wooyoung tried to process the information as quickly as possible. “You? You're literally boyfriend material. If you were single, everyone would be fighting for you. Even though you're ours, Y/n and I have to be careful not to let them take you away from us.” Wooyoung stroked the back of San’s hand. “You're not a bad friend, Sanie. You're absolutely not.”

“I've been lying to Y/n for almost a week.”

“Because you don't want them to drink powdered coffee. You take care of them. You ordered quality coffee from some classy guy.” Wooyoung took over the grinder from him. “And you can tell them the truth in the afternoon, if you want. I don't think they'll be angry, they'll probably just laugh at us.”

San still pouted ruefully, but he no longer hunched forward so tragically.

“Go and cuddle them. I'll finish this.”

“Can you?”

“Of course I can.” Wooyoung pulled the bag of coffee beans in front of him and smiled encouragingly at the other. “You know, thanks to you, I became a coffee master.”

Before Wooyoung could concentrate on making your morning coffee, San pulled him close and planted a long, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“It is the least I can do. Now go. And don't let our baby out of bed!”

****

“Careful, careful," Wooyoung murmured as he handed you the mug. “It's hot. Very hot. Like your skin... hmm… let me lie back a bit.”

Wooyoung stretched out beside you, satisfied, once the coffee was safely in the palm of your hand. He rested his head against your waist and was about to look for a blanket that would hopefully preserve some body heat, but instead he got San himself as a blanket. He didn't complain.

“Gosh, the kitchen stone is so cold,” he whimpered.

“Well,” one of your hands went into his hair and gently massaged his scalp. “Next time, put on another layer of socks. Or don't go out. I can make my own coffee.”

“I wanted to be nice to you so you wouldn't leave me for this sexy guy behind me.”

While you giggled, San hugged Wooyoung even tighter, and the boy was reminded of how strong San is. And how much he loves it when he has time to spend the morning with the two of you.

“Oh, that can't happen. What would we do without you?” You stroked his cheek and San hummed in agreement.

What's for sure, at this point Wooyoung didn't feel like a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was proud that he could be here, that you both loved him.

“And thanks for the whipped cream, too, Woo.”

“You're welcome. I made it with love. I would have also put cinnamon on it, but I couldn't find any.”

"You must not have seen it from the bag of coffee beans," you said.

San's body tensed around Wooyoung. Wooyoung himself twitched.

“What?”

“The coffee bean bag. The one you hid as if it were a drug. A few days ago, it just covered up the cinnamon.”

San let Wooyoung go and sat up. He just blinked and waited for you to say something else. You didn't. You drank your coffee peacefully, your face smeared with whipped cream without a spoon to use.

“Don't look at me like that. I wasn't complaining about not liking it. In fact, you made it delicious.”

“You knew?” San was stunned. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because the coffee is delicious,” you drank some more. “And you've been very enthusiastic all week. I think you guys had fun too. Or am I wrong?”

“When did you find out?” Wooyoung asked, pulling his knees to his chest.

You frowned thoughtfully.

“I think it was Wednesday. Sannie got a call from the 'coffee guy'. I thought it was about the mechanic, so I picked it up while Sannie was getting dressed. The guy asked if I was happy with the merchandise and if I wanted to order another package. When I asked if he was talking about capsules, he hung up. I may or may not offended him.”

San crawled closer to you on the mattress. He took your face in the palm of his hand and kissed the whipped cream off. “I’m sorry.”

“I'm not mad. After all, you showed me that my boyfriends could make better coffee than my machine.” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "However, I don't want you to spend every day sculpting in the kitchen to make me happy. I'd rather have you here with me and the coffee machine do my coffee.”

“That's what we want.” Wooyoung nodded, then leaned his head on your shoulder. He was very happy that you were not angry with them. Though he expected nothing less from your kind, loving heart. “And the coffee machine could be working tomorrow... If San didn't forget again.”

“Hey! This can't happen, I swear! I've been dreaming about this for two days. Even if I had amnesia, I couldn't forget it.”

“I believe you, big boy. I hope you haven't forgotten either that you promised me marathon hugs today.”

“Finish your coffee and you won't get away.” San nodded towards you, then looked at Wooyoung. He winked and smiled mischievously. “None of you will get away.”

For the record, Wooyung didn't intend to. It's well known that sometimes even the lovestruck coffee maker needs a break.

[hina-hina]

Hi can i request a ghost x too pure for this world slash civillian reader . where reader is the total opposite of ghost like they too kind and soft and ghost met them whole reader was working in a local bookshop and they both just fall head over heels for each other 😭💗💗

Hiiii, this was such a cute request! I love the opposites attract relationships so much and imagining THE big, scary Ghost with this very sweet and kind reader is so fun!! Kinda got carried away with it, but I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting!! (❤ ω ❤)

|| Ghost with a Soft Partner ||

Warnings: soft and flustered Ghost (^///^)

It's not often when Ghost gets to take a break from his work, but when he does it's never for very long

So, when he does get a break, he spends it doing the few things he actually likes about civilian lives

And, surprisingly, one of those things is reading

So, whenever he's in town, he likes to pick up a few books to take back to base with him

So he pulls on the most discreet civvies he owns, a black hoodie, mask, and beanie. (Because you can't very well go about in town with a skull mask without getting unwanted stares)

He doesn't like how much his hulking form sticks out in the cozy bookstore but he goes anyway

However, he immediately regrets it after he sees the confusing way the store has the books organized

Apparently noticing his confusion, you would approach to help him

He is immediately taken aback by your soft-spoken voice and demeanor as you ask if he needs help

Would take a minute to respond and not notice he's just staring at you

When he notices you starting to get nervous under his intense gaze he would immediately look away and clear his throat

"I'm lookin' for your mystery books..."

"Oh! Yes, the sorting method can get a little confusing. Just follow me!"

He is once again taken aback by your helpful attitude

It's not often people are so nice to him

You bring him to the right section and are about to leave him alone when he suddenly asks;

"Any recommendations?"

He doesn't know why he asks but he knows that he's comforted by your presence

So, the two of you talk and he ends up buying more than one of your recommendations

But eventually you have to go back to work and he has to go back home

However you find yourself stuck thinking about the large, intimidating man with a love for mystery books and he finds himself in a similar position.

So he finds himself coming back to the bookstore again

and again

He finds talking with you to be like a fresh breath of air

It makes him forget about Ghost for a while and feel like Simon again

Eventually he gets up the courage to ask you out on a date against his better judgement

So, you end up going on a date to this cutesy cafe even though he feels totally out of place because he knows you would love it

He eventually opens up about his job but tells you the bare minimum, just that he's just a military soldier is the SAS

Your shocked and slightly worried because that work is dangerous but upon reflection you know he can handle himself

He walks you home and the end of the night and when you lean in to kiss him, he pulls back

When you look at him with a hurt expression, he continues;

"Listen... I don't understand how I feel about you but I do know you deserve a hell of a lot more than me. If we do this, I have to know your sure. My work is... Dangerous. I don't want to hurt you."

You smile, "Let me worry about what I think I deserve, Simon."

You place your hands on the sides of his mask and he pauses, large hands coming up to engulf your wrists as he nods

You pull his mask down and lean up as you kiss

Eventually, he has to return to base and is worried on how the distance will affect your relationship

You reassure him though with your soft smile and tell him you'll be waiting for him to get back

He feels his heart clench with a soft affection he hadn't felt in a long time

While he's going through his things, he opens one of the books you had recommended to him only to find you had tucked a few secretly taken polaroids inside

He keeps one tucked in his breast pocket and another pinned to the wall in his room on base

While he's gone, the two of you share video calls and you send him letters

He's always so touched by the time you put into the letters and he loves knowing your still doing fine without him there

He would be SUPER protective of you

When the other guys on the 141 task force find out he has a partner, they argue over what kind of person he would look for in a partner

When he finally shows them a picture, they are all shocked because just from the picture they can tell your complete opposites

You send him care packages with books you think he would like and homemade sweets

The other guys would always ask for some but he would refuse because you made them for him

He would be reluctant to tell you about his past because he doesn't want to "corrupt" you

You tell him he's being dumb and reassure him that, when he's ready to talk, you'll be there

Would still have feelings of inadacity because he's a cold-hearted killer and your so painfully good

You reassure him that his work helps tons of people and that your proud of him

He enjoys having you read to him while he rests his head in your lap

He's definitely touch starved so he gets very flustered when you get touchy with him

He loves it tho

I can also see him sending you books, trinkets, and rocks he finds while on deployment

You keep each one he sends and display them

Prefers to spend dates indoors quietly

Would 100% fantasize about marrying you

Would encourage you to be a little less kind when people at work are mean to you or too pushy because he doesn't like the idea of not being able to defend you himself

All and all, you would just be really fluffy and cute, a much needed softness to balance out his cold demeanor

[fanbasetwo]

TIL DEATH DO US PART , RICKY

PAIRING: husband ! ricky × wife ! 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

MASTERLIST !!

NOTE FROM SENA , this kinda flopped on my enha blog but I still wanted to reach more people, so here it is. an ricky version of the same fic, if you find ‘jake’ instead of ‘ricky’ in some paras please mention so that I can edit it out. hope you have fun reading this <3💗

DEAR RICKY,

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 Ricky 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 Ricky 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 Ricky 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... Ricky. 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 Ricky 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; Ricky’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 Ricky 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, Ricky,” 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 Ricky… 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 Ricky, 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 Ricky'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. Ricky 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 Ricky’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, Ricky’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 Ricky’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 Ricky’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 Ricky’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. Ricky’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 Ricky’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 Ricky’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,” Ricky 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 Ricky 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,” Ricky 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.

Ricky 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. Jay... 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. “Ricky 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, Ricky,” 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 Ricky? 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, “Ricky?” 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 Ricky’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 Ricky, 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 Ricky should be. “Ricky?” 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 Ricky. 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. Ricky. 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.

Ricky 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. Ricky’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: Ricky’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 Ricky 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 Ricky, 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—Ricky’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. Ricky 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, Ricky, 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 Ricky 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. Ricky 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 Ricky'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, Ricky.”

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. Ricky'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.

“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.

Ricky 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 Ricky's, the hope in your eyes unyielding.

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

Ricky 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 Ricky, 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. Ricky'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. Ricky 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 Ricky, 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!” Ricky’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.

Ricky'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 Ricky 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.

Ricky’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 Ricky's teeth clench.

“THIS IS NOT A BEDROOM DETAIL!!!” Ricky retorts, frustration coloring his tone. It earns him another hard look from the store associate across the room, who pointedly glances over her glasses. Ricky 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,” Ricky admits, the admission heavy with a history neither of them mention.

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

As the call ends, Ricky 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, Ricky 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 Ricky earlier, walks over with an unimpressed expression, exchanging a silent, almost comic glare with him. She gave Ricky 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 Ricky presented back to the staff before she looked away. You glance between them, slightly confused. Then Ricky 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,” Ricky 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 Ricky 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 Ricky a look.

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Ricky, 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?

RICKY’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. Ricky 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 Ricky 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.

Ricky’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. Ricky'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.

Ricky’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?” Ricky’s mother's eyes glisten, her hope rekindled as she looks between you and her son.

“Really?” Ricky'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, Ricky had confided in him about how distant and weird things had become between you two.

Ricky 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.

Ricky 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 Ricky'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 Ricky 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.

Ricky 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.”

Ricky’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)

Ricky 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...” Ricky’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.

Ricky 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. Ricky’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.

Ricky’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 Ricky 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 Ricky. 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.

“Ricky…” 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 Ricky. 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 Ricky 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 Ricky, 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 Ricky. The question slips from your lips, “Are we sleeping separately again?” masking the tremble in your voice with an attempt at confidence. Ricky’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...”

Ricky’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 Ricky’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. Ricky 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, Ricky 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. Ricky’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 Ricky 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. Ricky 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,” Ricky 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.

Ricky 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.

Ricky’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.

“Ricky?” 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 Ricky?” 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.

Ricky’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.

Ricky’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.

RICKY’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 Ricky’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.

Ricky’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. Ricky’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 Ricky 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.

Ricky 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.

Ricky 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, Ricky 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 Ricky 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 Ricky’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.

Ricky'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, Ricky! 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, Ricky. 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 Ricky. 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.

Ricky 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 Ricky 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 Ricky, 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.

Ricky’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 Ricky’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,” Ricky says, his voice laced with excitement. His mother, skeptical, eyes you closely. “Is that true?”

Without waiting for Ricky’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 Ricky 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?" Ricky’s mother recovers first, grinning with hopeful excitement. Ricky 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.

Ricky’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.”

Ricky 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, Ricky’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,” Ricky 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.”

Ricky 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.”

Ricky 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 Ricky, 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,” Ricky agrees softly, his gaze drifting to the future, to the family that’s just beginning.

In the end, you and Ricky 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.

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[seleniangnosis]

Venus' gift to you ☁️💗

Pile 1 ---> Pile 2

Pile 3 --> Pile 4

Hi everyone ☁️💌! I was inspired by e pervious pac series of mine "Conversations with the Planets" , where I channeled the energy of the main planets to get advice for you, and decided ro now do one where I ask what gift are they bestowing upon you in this lifetime.

This is a general reminder to let yourself discard anything that you might not resonate with, and that my pacs are not to replace any professional help or advice. Hope you'll enjoy them ☁️💌. Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Find my other PACs here 💌

Pile 1

Hello people of pile one , and welcome to your reading 💌!

Your gift: Wisdom of the Heart

You are a person who has a good , and healthy control of their emotions. You don't let yourself carried away by negative feelings, or fall prey to emotions such as: envy, hatred, revenge. This might show up in situation where you're dealing with difficult people. You don't let what they say affect you, or get the best out of you, because you know it's not worth it. You value your peace of mind, more than coming on top and prove everyone else wrong. Even in situations when you are tested by people who try to get the best of you, the flow of your emotions is balanced, and you are able to manage them, without falling into extremes, or see the other person's point, and get the situation over without becoming " toxic ".

How to utilise your gift to it's highest potential?

Here, I m getting the idea that is more connected to yourself and how you feel inside, rather than the outside world. You are not immune to being hurt, even if you have good control over how you feel. Let people know when they hurt your feelings, confront people when they throw harsh words at you. I believe that you're the type of person who walks away and goes silent, trying to " heal " themselves quietly when they go trough a hurtful confrontation. This is useful sometimes, but people need to be put into their place sometimes. It's not worth to let them always feel like they won , and this can be done trough assertiveness, without verbal violence. The more I look at the cards the more I'm getting the idea that even though you have this amazing ability to work with your emotions, you might be afraid of serious confrontations, so you mostly walk away in difficult situations, without letting what's bothering your heart get out trough your mouth. Walking away from arguments is wise, but people will use this to their advantage, and walk all over you the next time they feel bothered by something.

Pile 2

Hi people of pile two, and welcome to your reading 💌

Your gift: Strength of Character

Actually the first word I heard when I pulled your cards was "audacity ", so congrats on your audacity pile 2! You seem to be a person with a strong character, who's not afraid to stand on their own feet, and put others back into place. If you are shamed, made fun of , even if people might think you're small and not so " threatening ", they soon find out the real you. What I don't see tho, is you being the type of mean / rude person when dealing with different situations. If people are around, you re perceived more as " the bigger person ", someone with confidence and authority, rather than " the meanie " .

I feel like this type of strength is sometimes taking you to a point of loneliness? You might be the person who always relied on themselves for emotional support, you solve your problems on your own , and cut connections with people and / or situations as soon as you see and feel ( for lack of better words) " attacked ". Unlike pile 1 ( read it if you want to better understand what I'm trying to say), you don't seem to sail so smoothly trough your emotions. You're not afraid of endings and cutting ties off with what you deem to be no longer useful, but in this way the cycle just repeats itself.

How to utilise your gift to it's highest potential?

Dont be resentful. Deal actively with misunderstandings, overcome the past, look at things in the direction of optimism and growth. The way you feel, the way others make you feel can tell you a lot about yourself. Challenge that status quo. In case you sometimes find yourself making mistakes, there's nothing wrong with apologising, or recognising that you judged the situation unfairly. Work more with your emotions, and try to understand them, rather than running away from them and say " ah it doesn't matter, it's over now". These thoughts might still be following you around from time to time, and acknowledging that you were too quick to judge isn't a bad thing. Asking someone else for help and advice could be a good idea.

Pile 3

Hi people of pile three, and welcome to your reading 💌

Your gift: Courage of the Heart

In this pile, the message is centered around yourself and how you play a role in the way you make yourself feel and act. You might be / have been a person with a lot of self doubts, irrational fears, a person who was/ is extremely reclusive, and bound to mental escapism tendencies. How is this a gift, you might ask ? Well , the gift is in overcoming your innate / irrational fears and discovering who you actually are. For those who overcomed these self doubts, you're now in a place where your inner world feels richer and stable. These emotions helped you see the real you and realise that you're lucky enough to share your thoughts ( I feel like some of you are/ were the shy, timid type of person) without fearing judgement.

Now, for those who are still trying to overcome what's holding them back, the advice is to use those words, emotions and thoughts you're afraid to, and get used to that part of you. There's nothing wrong with being more impulse and say something quirky, funny out of the blue. Don't overthink that much about other's reactions. You have all the potential to be a confident, brave and cool person, but only if you dare to, and let that side of you out. Take easy steps towards seeing your beauty, charisma and charm!

Pile 4

Hi people of pile four, and welcome to your reading 💌

Your gift: Beauty and openness of the Heart

You seem to be the type of people who, despite the struggles they faced, they kept their hearts open ,and are willing to help others deal with difficulties as well. People might have found a lot of support in you multiple times, or just by talking to you, you interacting with them. You know how's like to go trough what life throws at you sometimes, and are willing to be a pillar of support for others in need as well. I didn't want to jump directly towards financial help and support, but it's possible that some of you have helped others with money or made donations.

How to utilise your gift to it's highest potential?

Do not forget yourself and those close to you. It's good yo offer help, but so is to fill your own cup first. Do not exhaust yourself emotionally, materially and mentally to help anyone who needs it. You might be an emphatic person, or just someone who is deeply affected by seeing pain and hurt in others, and jumping immediately to help them, but doing this constantly will show negative effects upon yourself. You have a lot to give, but your resources will ran out if you keep on using them without a break. Prioritise those people who might really need it, or are close to you. You're much more than the labour you do for others, or the help you give them. Alternatively, you can provide people with advice only, and have them solve their problems by themselves. Never spread yourself too thin.

[heartilywrites]

Korra x female firebender reader pretty please 💗

It can start off as fluff and turn into smut AUGHAG <33

Obviously, the time is during s3-s4, reader writes numerous letters to Korra, yearning for her (but ofc they just act as very close friends through the letters) and then Korra comes back from the North Pole, but instead of disappearing to the swamp, she go sees reader instead. I think you and I both know where this is going 😻

THANK YOU HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH HAVE A LOVELY DAY <333

،، 𝓜ake it Better ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where Korra gives you a visit after three years of being away.

content warning: fluff and if you squint enough there's angst ; Korra x fem!reader ; r is a firebender ! ; ¡¡ MINORS DNI !! ; nsfw ; thigh riding ; fingering ; oral (r receiving) ; scissoring ; switch!korra n' r ; after care i think??? i mean, i believe it is some type of after care what i wrote- ; description of amber colored eyes for r ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is my first smut in like,,, 8 months i think, be nice to me i cry easily /j. i didn’t really mention that r was a firebender that much, i got carried away- hope thats okay 🥺 ENJOY THANK U FOR REQUESTING :D

“ If I could figure it out, I'd take you back to my house so we could meddle about.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “𝓓earest Korra,

It's been a whole week since you left us, can you believe it? Things here are... not the same without you.

How have you been? I mean, it's been just seven days, but it's just weird, we haven't been this far since I met you. I hope you're doing okay, know that I will be writing you eventually! Everyone says hi, by the way, I'm sure you'll get a letter from them too, but just to let you know. Bolin is the most excited to receive a letter back, I've seen him practice his calligraphy, it's cute.

Write me back too when you have the chance! I would like to read about you.

Sincerely yours,”

Blue eyes read once, twice, even three times the letter with a weak smile on her face. Her fingers caressed your letter and streak your name.

Being back in the south by herself sure got the best out of her, she missed everyone, she missed you, but it was something she needed to do to get better. To be better and feel like she deserved you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest,

Hey! I'm sorry for not responding back earlier, but it's been hard.

I've been good? I'm starting physiotherapy with Katara and it's something. Thank you for writing me, I can't tell you how much I miss you guys; Three weeks is a crazy amount of time to be away from you, hope you don't miss me much, blaze.

Can I ask you to do me a favor? Don't tell the others I wrote to you, I'm just now finding the correct words to write to you and I don’t want them to feel like I don’t appreciate them. I trust you, commander arson.

Yours always,

Korra.”

A little laugh left your mouth after reading the two nicknames the avatar had always used on you. Your heart skipped at the beginning, how she only wrote dearest without your name... That couldn't mean much, right? She was one of your best friends, even if your feelings for her were strong, your willpower to keep the relationship as it is was way stronger.

Your friends have talked to you about an opportunity were she may feel the same back and it was just a matter of talking it out, but then Zaheer targeted Korra again and all romance–talk went through out the window. It all sank after the result of the war between the red lotus and the whole team, the letter were all you had left of the girl and at that moment you wouldn't risk losing it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest Korra,

I'm starting to think that maybe this new job is not for me... The people is boring and I'm running out of ideas to keep the fun atmosphere, maybe I should go and work with Asami, don't you think, breeze? My experience on dealing with disasters may be of help if she needs a test subject for the inventions, I'm good at dispersing fire with more fire!

I can't believe it's been a whole year since we last saw each other... How is the physiotherapy going? I hope is going great, don't be so hard on yourself, Korra, I know you. Healing usually takes time and it's okay to go on your own pace... I lo am sending all of my good energy your way, know that I am always here for you, in the good and the bad, please let me know if you need anything. Hopefully we'll see each other soon.

Sincerely yours,”

The night that Korra was reading again that specific letter from you was the same night were she hit rock bottom with her whole healing process. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks after the last paragraph, only the moon knew how much Korra missed and loved you and having you say such words to her knowing how at some point the girl may get burnout from trying was what made the avatar fall in love with you. You knew her to a point where only if she looked in the back on her brain she may find how you were right and that made her feel warm.

  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest blaze,

Hey... I hope you didn't waited too long for me to write you back. I'm so sorry, it has been a really rough time for me and I didn’t feel like burdening you with my problems.

I did receive the last couple of letters you sent and I read them, I'm so grateful to have you with me. Thank you for not giving up on me just yet, you're the best.

Yours always,

Korra.”

Your hand was moving fast over the new sheet of paper while writing your thoughts on the last letter. How could she say she was a burden? You've make sure she never felt that way! Since meeting Korra you always worked on making the girl trust you with everything, you made your mission being her confident, the shoulder she looked for when she needed to cry and reading how she felt bad with herself made your heart burn with pain.

Even if by then two years have gone by, you felt like nothing has changed between the waterbender and you, hell! you could say that the bond was stronger than ever despite your heart's desire.

The letter just kept going and coming every now and then until at one point after six months over the three years, they stopped from Korra's side. You got worried, of course, but thought that maybe the white lotus was training her again to get her back in the game and that made her time very limited. Your mind found another way to keep occupied from those loud thoughts and you keep it that way.

Humming a melody made your throat vibrate and your index finger made a little little flame to lit up a scent candle and accommodate it on the table at your living room, you were getting ready to read a little bit when a knocking on your door made you stand up again.

When you opened your door, your eyes widened and you felt as if someone had hypnotized you. A short haired Korra was in front of you, wearing earth kingdom clothes and with an eye starting to swell, she smiled with a sad aura, but her eyes sparkled a little bit with excitement at finally seeing you again.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, Korra... I'm– I– what happened to you?” you broke the silence, mumbling at the questions trying to come out your mouth all at once. You took her hand to get her inside your house, she just kept her eyes on you.

You were as beautiful as she remembered, dare to say even more than before. Your fire nation clothes hugging your body and that wonderful scent that characterizes you was what Korra had missed. She took a deep breath in to smell it again and was met with the familiar scent of your house as well, how she missed it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I needed to see you.” she spoke, her voice sounded deeper than it was, you felt a tiny electric current travel your spine. “I just... I couldn't be far from you anymore.”

A smile began to creep on your face and your arms were quick to hug the avatar, she swallowed a grunt at the sudden hit of your body on hers as she missed that and hugged you back. A small sob was heard.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you so much, Korra.” you whispered sobbing again. “You have no idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you too.” her hand went to your head where she left tiny caresses. “I'm so sorry for disappearing, I've been trying to feel like myself again.”

You distanced yourself from her and looked at her with concern. Your hand reached hers and were fast to guide her to sit at the couch so you could talk to the girl.

For the first time, Korra let out everything she had been feeling and thinking after so many years and you listened to her cautiously, stroking her hand with your thumb to make her feel safe and to convince you that she was there, that it wasn't another one of your dreams. When she finished she looked back up to you and you smiled at her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't even imagine how hard it is to you,” you said in a soft tone, your amber eyes looked down to both your and her hands. “You're so strong, Korra. Physically and mentally, you are the strongest person I know and I know you're capable of coming out of this. You will be okay,” your eyes went back to the blue ones. “You won't have to do it alone, darling, I'm here for you.”

The avatar softened her gaze at you, that was all she needed to hear at that moment. She felt fortunate to have you by her side even at the worst moments.

Her free hand made its way to your cheek were she left strokes just as you were doing with her hand, both colored eyes were fixated to each other with such devotion. Both bodies moved unconsciously to be closer together until the breath mixed, warm and hot meeting. Your mind was cloudy at such close distance, you were sure you hallucinated with her eyes twitching to your lips and were about to move and offer her coffee when her lips clashed on yours in such a unsynchronized way that it was almost funny, you pulled away for a moment surprised to the act.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, listen, I–” she tried to explain herself before you interrupted her with another kiss.

This one was more harmonized than the first one, your hands had left hers and looked to rest on each side of her face, pulling her as close as the anatomy allowed you to be. At first instance, it was supposed to be a sweet kiss of reconciliation with your feelings, but a small moan had vibrated on your throat without your permission and Korra took it as an opportunity to deepen the gesture.

While her tongue was fighting with yours, both her hands moved to your hips and in a quick move she had put you on top of her while still attending your lips. When your lungs burned for air, her mouth was fast to make a trail from yours to your neck.

Your head was thrown back to give her more access, one of your hands tangled with the brown locks on her head. She stopped at a sensitive spot after hearing you sigh with such devotion, smiling a little bit malicious she decided to make a hickey by sucking the skin under her mouth making you do satisfied sounds that vibrated your vocal chords, after admiring her work that she knew would leave a dark mark, she tried to continue but was stopped with the fabric of your superior part, Korra distanced a bit to look at you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Can I?” was asked referring to the piece, you nodded a little bit and watch her hands take the belt off your waist and helped her to take off the whole fabric and letting it fall to the floor.

When her lips met your neck again, Korra breathe in your scent, delighted to how sweet you smelled. Your hips under her hands looked for more closeness by rocking a little bit to the front and that only action gave the girl an idea.

She pulled away again and made her hands guide your body to sit on only one of her legs, you followed without any complaint; Korra made you start grinding on her thigh, with tiny moans you were obedient to keep the action she did and when the girl raised her leg to apply pressure to your core making you let out a sigh of relief at how good it felt. Foreign lips went back to your skin, she was attending now your breast over your bra, making more hickeys on her way.

The calling of her name in a shaky voice made her look up to your amber eyes drowned in lust. “I need you, please.”

Her mouth took yours in a desperate kiss and was quick to stand up from the couch with you on her arms to make the well known way to your bedroom. Even if the avatar's body felt heavy by the constant fights she had before deciding to visit you, at that moment she didn’t feel exhausted, the hunger she had for you had substituted her tiredness.

With caution, your body was left on the mattress while the kiss continued. Korra made her way again to your breasts, taking off your last piece on the top her mouth attended your nipples making you moan at the sensation of her tongue moving while her hands were undoing your pants. When she got them off, her left hand slipped under your underwear to your intimacy. Iced color eyes looked at you with a smile at the feeling of wetness between your thighs.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “All that for me?” she raised an eyebrow, you could feel your face burn and tried to look away, but Korra's free hand made you turn your gaze back at her without harm. “Eyes on me.”

Her middle finger was tracing on top of your intimacy, making you moan in complain, you were about to talk again when one of her digits slipped in you now allowing you to moan with pleasure. The way her pace was slow was driving you crazy, your hips moved over her hand like asking for more non-verbally and she pleased by adding a second finger, the way your walls clutched over her fingers made her giggled a little bit.

She continued her action for a couple more seconds watching your expressions and loving the sound of your moans for her before she completely removed her fingers from you gaining a grunt.

She was quick to remove completely your last piece of clothes and move over to be between your legs, your eyes followed her curious to see how she was going down on you and when her lips got your clitoris along with one of her fingers entering again in your core, a loud moan came out of you.

Raising your back from the mattress, one one your hands went to her hair tangling brown locks to your fingers, another finger interfered in you and her pace got faster. Your free hand reached to squeeze your own breast while you were being taken care off and when a knot on your abdomen started to form you tried to call for the girl to tell her but was only able to moan out her name in a scream followed by your orgasm.

Your eyes got heavy but you forced yourself to stay awake when the avatar stood back up with your juices on her chin and a little bit on her nose, you smiled pulling her on a kiss tasting yourself in the process.

Your hands tried to undress the girl in a clumsy way while trying to comeback on yourself so she did it herself. Korra didn’t know what you tried to do, but surely stripped to her underwear. Just as she did, you took of her bottom piece and now forced her to lay on the bed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What are you–” you put your finger over your own mouth on a silent expression.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Trust me.” you said hoarsely with a tired smile.

Your hands made her legs open for you to position yourself between them. Still sensitive after your first climax, you rubbed yourself against the southerner with such pleasure that you now were able to finally hear moans from her that made you smile. Korra was calling for your name between moans and heavy breaths she was giving, you folded over to kiss her and let the moans drown on both mouths. When picking a faster pace, both bodies started to feel the same knot on the lower area and after the waterbender got to her climax you followed her, now completely defeated you fell besides her.

Korra pulled you closer to her with her arms and hugged you tight, letting you rest your head on her chest. A couple of minutes were needed for both to recuperate, the avatar was leaving caresses on your head and tiny pecks on your crown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We'll find someone who can help you,” you spat, still hoarsely, now looking up to her. Amber eyes filled with compasion. “Don't give up just yet, I know we can find someone.”

Cold eyes looked at you with such tenderness and love before Korra pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “I love you.” she whispered over your lips, making you smile big. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you too,” you said back, leaving caresses on her cheeks. “I always have and always will, my love.”

[seiwas]

hello sel!!! hru doing??

The ask game is super fun! How about Gojo + vindictive.

I hope u hv had a lovely day 🫶

zuro anon

zuro anon hello!! thanks for sending in a prompt!! i'm doing good 🥺 spending this lil vacay at home, mostly 🥺 and happy to be back writing 🥺 i hope you have the loveliest weekend 💗

contains: non-canon, childhood enemies to lovers (ish), (modern) arranged marriage, reader wears a braid and dresses

gojo + vindictive

you hate gojo satoru. you have ever since you were 5.

he's a bully―a real cocky one at that, with no regard or remorse for how his actions affect those around him.

on the day before your 6th birthday, right as your parents gathered together for the annual countdown, he gobbled up the entire plate of your favorite milk cakes before you could even take a bite. this marked the start, the beginning of a vengeance stewing inside of you.

at the age of 8, when you first learned how to do your own braids, he would tug at them, pull them free and unravel all your hard work for the past hour. you used to chase him for it, yell "satoru!" with all the strength your little lungs could muster and he would merely laugh and run faster.

the name "satoru," you've learned, must be synonymous with "sabotage," because it's all he's ever done. he threw the flower geto suguru handpicked for you straight to the ground, and purposely splashed gutter water all over the white dress you intended to wear on your first date.

not to mention, he's always rubbed in the fact that he's better than you, at everything―dangled all his accomplishments in front of you as if he knew they were just centimeters out of reach.

gojo satoru is solely responsible for tainting your childhood memories a miserable cerulean blue.

so, when your parents sit you down one day and tell you that you'll have to marry him, you feel transported in that moment, to each and every instance gojo has ever wronged you. it flips through your mind like a montage of flashbacks in a movie.

it's both surprising and not. your families have always been partners, in everything―business, education, and now you guess, life as well. you hate gojo's guts but this creates an opportunity you don't think can result from anything else.

so, sure, you'll agree to the marriage―only to make his life a living hell.

"hello, fiancée," he greets you, for the first time since the agreement.

you don't do anything to hide your disgust, face scrunching up as you spit out, "shut up, satoru."

the wedding planning is horrendous―at least, you hope it is for him. you pick out every single cake flavor you know he hates and choose the brightest venue possible for the event. the lights you pick for the afterparty are strobe lights, and you make sure to do multiple test runs just to play with his eyes. it doesn't occur to you that the solution to his light sensitivity is simple: just a plain pair of shades.

you wear plumping lip gloss on your wedding day, just so his lips burn when you have to kiss him. but gojo is either extremely numb or just good at faking it, because all he does is grin as he whispers quietly before parting, "spicy."

in preparation for your married life, you create a ledger of some sort―a book of accounts housing every single thing gojo has done wrong. you write down your plans to get him back for each of them, a list of pranks and inconveniences to make him regret ever messing with you all those years ago.

at half a year of marriage and 25 years of knowing each other, he casually tells you the big "i love you," but you're sure he doesn't mean it. you tell yourself your heart is racing from how infuriating his existence is; at how stupid his face looked when he'd said it. not anything else and most especially not the little dimple on his cheek that shows itself every now and then.

(you didn't know it yet then, but he'd found the ledger you kept and read through it all. the one-year plan, the three-year plan, the five, and so on. and it does nothing but strengthen how he feels about you, since he was 6, 14, and a few years ago at 24.

it's at your third year of marriage that you find out―how gojo's known all this time, but more importantly, how there were reasons behind every single instance you thought he was out to ruin your life.

with intelligence far beyond his age, gojo has always preferred the company of adults more than children. at age 6, he would listen in on conversations his mother had with her friends, roughly comprehending complex worlds with the simple ones he understood. someone had mentioned something about their daughter being allergic to milk. and so, when your birthday came up and all he saw were milk treats, he gobbled them all up in an effort to make sure you wouldn't be subjected to an adverse reaction―even though you were far off from any dairy allergy.

what he was sure of, however, was that you were severely allergic to bees. and when he spotted one perched right on the buttercup stem geto handed you, he had no choice but to smack it right out of your hand and down to the ground, stepping on it too, for good measure.

and, okay, maybe he was a little naughty for tugging at your braids when you'd just spent all that time doing them, but he always liked how they flowed into waves when they unravelled; how you'd chase him afterwards, angry but so, so pretty.

if there's one moment gojo will consider real sabotage, though, it's that date he stopped you from going to. like there was any way he was going to let another man see you dressed like that. he isn't nice that way. when gojo wants something, he's not sharing, and the sight of you in white―that was meant to be his and only his.)

[thornsnvultures]

mouth to mouth

steve rogers x plus size!reader

summary: steve's technically a new recruit at shield and that means he needs to take the mandatory cpr class. based off of this list of things that steve rogers would historically be unfamiliar with. thanks @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for encouraging the silliness 💗

cw: none, just steve thinking about smooching a little too much

>600 w, divider by @/saradika

"Okay, so after the chest compressions you're going to give two breaths."

Steve watches intently as you pinch the mannequin's nose shut and tilt its head back. The chest inflates as you press your lips to plastic and breathe once, twice. Steve tries not to stare at your lips, pretty and plump. He must have head trauma from being in the ice. Pull yourself together, soldier.

"Remember, thirty compressions, two breaths."

"Right, got it."

You wipe the dummy clean with cleansing wipe. It's protocol but something in Steve's gut wishes you hadn't. Steve squashes that thought as quickly as he can. It's not appropriate. You're doing your job, teaching him how to possibly save someone's life someday. It's important and he shouldn't be thinking about how sweet you'd taste, how soft your skin would feel if he held your cheek in his hand.

"Oh, wait," you stop Steve after his first breath. He freezes when he feels you move in close, your hands on his over the dummy. "The chest didn't inflate. You have to tilt the head back a little more," your hands guide Steve into the correct position and Steve swallows down the whimper in his throat. He feels like a lost little boy all over again. The strong hand of an experienced, pretty woman guiding him, showing him what to do with his clumsy hands.

"Sorry," Steve chuckles. He hopes you can't hear how his heart is racing in his chest.

"It's fine, you're doing great," you smile at Steve and encourage him to try again. He does even better the second time and soon he's finished the short CPR certification course everyone new at SHIELD is required to take.

"You did great, Steve! Hopefully you'll never need to use it," you wink and Steve swears his heart stops. "But it's good that you know the correct technique."

Steve beams at your praise, ducking his head to hide the way his cheeks and how red the apples of his cheek turn.

"It helps that you were a great teacher."

He busies himself with helping you pack up the dummies so he doesn't have to see the way you smile at him. He might just kiss that smile off your face. Would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date? What did people do on dates anymore anyway?

Before he can muster up the courage to ask and screw it all up, you're heading towards the door.

"It was nice to meet you, Steve," you say, lingering a bit at the doorway. The strap of your bag falls and Steve's eyes fall to your pretty fingers, pulling it back up. Images of more inappropriate straps sliding off your shoulders flash behind Steve's eyes and he clears his throat. You're pathetic, Rogers.

"Where 'ya headed next? I can walk you."

"Oh just to the canteen, it's time for lunch. You don't have to, Steve." Your hands fidgety awkwardly, thumbing in the direction of the cafeteria, but your small smile makes Steve brave.

"I don't mind. Maybe we could eat together? Being the new kid at school is tough, no one to sit with at lunch."

You laugh and nod your head. Steve follows you down the hall, doing his best to not sound too excited as he makes small talk with you.

His new phone buzzes in his pocket and he fumbles with it for a second before reading the text from Natasha.

"She's cute ;)"

The two short words make his head whip around until he locates her, laughing at the other end of the hall. Steve's phone pings again but Steve ignores it to answer a question you asked.

"Have fun practicing mouth to mouth, lifesaver."

[lanawinterscigarettes]

NSFW headcanons for Jennifer Check and a submissive male S/O?

Anon I love you sm for sending this request in 🥺💗

Jennifer Check with a submissive male s/o nsfw headcanons

Warnings: SMUT, (mean) femdom, submissive male reader (physical descriptions of the reader are pretty vague so this should be able to be read by either cis or trans readers. Lemme know if there's anything that needs to be added or changed)

Jennifer has a more dominant personality in general but it'd definitely be more prominent if her s/o was a guy

Hates being told what to do, but she may humor you every now and then to see just how far you'll go and just how bratty you'll get. It makes the punishment afterwards even more fun

Speaking of punishments, they tend to include spanking, edging/overstimulation, and being forced to watch her get off alone

The last one is her personal favorite. She loves fingering herself while taunting you, saying things like "I don't really need you anyway, I can get myself off just fine without you"

You're not allowed to touch yourself when this happens either :( not that she'd let you cum even if you were

She is such a power bottom!!! fight me on it lol

Listen she loves being in control but hates having to do all of the work y'know what I mean

That doesn't mean she won't tell you what to do though, she's still very bossy even on the bottom

Will flat out tell you if what you're doing isn't pleasing her/is wrong in any way. Sometimes she'll be condescendingly sweet while correcting you and other times she'll just roll her eyes as she grumbles out instructions

Obsessed with humiliation/pain kinks. She can and will step on you (specifically your crotch) if you allow her to

Makes fun of you if you cry at any point during sex but she honestly loves it so much. She just enjoys humiliating you so you'll cry even more (this feeds into her not-so-secret dacryphilia kink)

Also she will straight up abuse your cock btw, whether that be through edging/overstimulating you to the point of tears or just squeezing you a bit too tightly when jerking you off or allowing her teeth to graze your shaft while going down on you

This goes for if you have a t-dick too. Trans guys are not safe from her rough treatment lmao

Prefers receiving to giving because she loves the feeling of suffocating you between her thighs, whether that's from her laying on her back or sitting on your face

That's not to say she isn't fantastic at giving, though, she just has to be in the mood for it. And don't think that you'll get the chance to take control during this time, not when she literally has you by the balls

If you know about her being demon possessed, then believe me when I say she is fully intent on visiting you directly after her, ahem, meals because of how horny the bloodlust makes her. Oh, you don't find her all that attractive covered in sweat and the blood of her most recent victim? That's fine, you can just help her get cleaned up in the shower afterwards ;)

I think she'd be fairly good at pegging because of just how whiny and pathetic she can make you, but she hates all the work that goes into it. Getting her to be on top for an extended period of time is something that happens once in a blue moon, like as a gift for your birthday, but if you beg enough you might be able to convince her to pull out the strap-on. I just hope you like riding, because that's one of the requirements of it

She loves riding btw. Doesn't matter who's riding who, it's one of her favorite positions (and also one of the only times that she'll willingly top without any complaints)

Every session ends with you being marked up in some way, shape, or form. Hickeys, bite marks, bruises, scratches, the whole nine yards. If you want to mark her up too, then go right ahead, she fully supports it and is honestly a little disappointed if she doesn't have at least one physical reminder afterwards

If you piss her off enough but she still wants to have sex then she'll make you fuck her without being allowed to cum the entire time. Or she might finger herself and have you fuck her thighs/tits as a way to torture you

Adores any and every little sound you make. Moans, groans, whimpers, whines, etc. She wants to be able to hear you, which means you're expected to be loud enough to be heard over her own noises

She really doesn't mind fingering you or eating you out, but only if you beg enough. And then she has to hear your soft cries of pleasure while she does it, even with your face shoved into the pillows while you're on your knees with your ass up, or she'll stop. She just loves torturing you what can I say

Anything involving public sex is completely on the table. If she's feeling a bit less controlling one day she might wear a vibrator and give you the remote control to it, but if you tease her too much then your controller privileges will be taken away and you'll be forced to wear the vibrator every day for the rest of the entire week with it up to the highest setting as a punishment

Such a brat tamer. She loves to mock and belittle you while putting you back in your place for acting out, and that includes taunting you for getting aroused when she spanks you for getting an attitude with her

Even if you do behave she's still going to be a little mean unfortunately. She just can't help the way you look at her all cutely with tears in your eyes as you beg to cum (or in some cases stop cumming if you've been at it for a while)

End notes: okay I went a little crazy while writing this due to my excitement but I wanted to cover the most topics as possible (and I'm a little horny for Jen but really who can blame me)

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous

[judgementdayslittle]

I got some I was wondering if you can do an autistic little reader that has separation anxiety and when ever a certain member leaves like Rhea, Damian, or Dom. That she would hide in one of their rooms until they come back or the others try to clam them down with their interests until they come back. If that’s makes any sense. PS I love your work it really comforting to read as a person on the spectrum thankie 🩷💗💗

I'm glad you enjoy it!!! I'm in a Mami mood rn so I'll focus a bit more on Rhea for this one!

-Judgement Day know about your separation anxiety. And they try everything in their power to help you be comfortable even when they're away.

-But one day while you're being very clingy to Mami, she remembers she has a doctor's appointment she HAS to go to.

-As much as it hurts her to do, she has to leave you at home. She tried to leave you with Papi and Dom. But as much as you love them, you want Mami!!!

-Now matter how much you cry and scream, and no matter how much it breaks Rhea's heart, she eventually leaves.

-Papi and baby Dom try to distract you with some toys and cuggles, but you no want toys!!! You want Mami!!!

-Eventually you escape and run up to Mami's room. Taking one of her hoodies out of her closet and sitting on her bed.

-Rocking yourself back and forth to try to self soothe yourself, you put on Mami's hoodie. It kinda smells like Mami.

-You hug yourself in hopes that it'll feel like Mami's huggies

-Papi comes in with Dom toddling behind him.

-You try to help, he tries to get you invested in your interests.

-Bideo games? You and Dom can play some together! Any game you want! TV show or movie? They'll watch it with you! A book series? Papi will read it to you! Do you just wanna talk about your interests? They're all ears!

-You manage to calm down a little bit, and have some fun. But you still miss Mami.

-It takes a while hour and a half for Mami to come home.

-She runs into her room. Knowing that's where you'll be.

-She see's you somewhat calm, which gives her some relief, but she can tell you are still upset.

-They moment you see her, you just bolt into her arms! Hugging her as tight as your wittle baby self can.

-She hugs you back, holding you close to her chest. You can down hearing her heartbeat.

-Mami bounced you up and down in her arms gently. Rocking you back and forth while whispering in to you.

-"Mami's right here sweetheart. She isn't going anywhere now. Mami wants nothing more than to have her baby in her arms."

-Mami offers Papi and Dom to join the hug. They of course do! And while you're clingy to Mami, you will never ever turn down Papi and Dom Huggies!

[suprababka]

"You're everything I could ever wish for"

Happy birthday to @zombiefox89 (@soulsheen)!🥳💝

I hope I didn't mess up with time zones and you receive my mini-surprise exactly on your birthday, not sooner nor later!

Dear Zombiefox, I highly hope you'll enjoy reading a small fanfiction I wrote for you (and for other Zombieman's stans too)💕

I know we got closer to each other only this summer, but I count you as my friend. Moreover, not just a friend, but my first online-friend from another country :D

I thank you with all my heart for every like and comment you leave under my post. Your support always means a lot, and I appreciate it!🤗

I wish you nothing but the best (as cheesy as it sounds), not to be overwhelmed by your work and to have more free time for your hobbies, to take nice fun walks with your dogs, to participate in exciting adventures with your friends in D&D world and, of course, to find and read new stories with your favourite man ;))))

Happy birthday!!!🙌🤗🫶✨💗🎉🎊

There are many things you love in your relationship with Zombieman (and about this man too). The way he looks, smiles, pays attention to every detail about you, supports you, surprises you with little gifts, gives you compliments... The way he loves and appreciates you.

He may come off as an emotionless person, but in reality, he cares a lot and is not ashamed of showing it. Though not anyone is "blessed" to see his affectionate side, only people who are close to him know how empathetic he is. For example, Child Emperor… and you. Especially you. The person who showed him he was able to love and, moreover, deserved to be loved.

That's something Zombieman will never take for granted. He cherishes every moment spent with you: watching a movie while cuddling on the sofa, running together under the rain, telling each other different stories before going to sleep, staring into your eyes and taking in all your beauty, cooking with you, or trying out different cafes. And today is no exception, as you're both sitting in the recently opened café.

"M-m, this looks amazing!" you exclaim vigorously, examining a large milkshake in front of you with whipped cream formed as a cat head.

Yes, you two decided to go to the cat-themed café. Usually Zombieman doesn't go to places like this since all he needs is a cup of coffee to go on with the life. But with you… something much more meaningful and energizing than coffee appears. It's your smile. The way the corners of your lips lift is a ticket straight to heaven for him. Really, he feels like nothing else matters. As long as you're happy, everything is fine. That's why the hero's main goal is to give you joy, to do anything in his power to make you laugh and beam.

While Zombieman is deep in his thoughts, you cheerfully tell him about your Friday and consume all of your drink in no time.

"Earth to my handsome boyfriend,"  you call out to him.

"Hm?"

"So you were not listening to me."

"Why? I was."

"Mm, sure. What was the last thing I said?"

"Well, 'What was the last thing I said', yeah?" he smirks, proud of his witty remark.

"Really funny and smart,"  you roll your eyes, making him chuckle and pat your head.

"I'm just messing with you, love. Though you're the one who does this in our relationship."

"Hehe, that's true. But I'm still waiting for your answer. Can't have my boyfriend slacking off now, can I?"

"Of course you can't. You were telling me about how hard your day was. I'm sorry everything went downhill, but what matters more is that you handled it. You did a great job, dear. I'm proud of you as always."

"Aw, thank you, honey! You're making me blush now."

"I wouldn't be a good boyfriend if I didn't flatter you, huh? But what I said was true."

"Of course it was,"  you kiss his cheek. "You know that I wouldn't want to be anywhere but with you right now."

"And that makes me happy. I feel the same way."

"Good, as you should do,"  you smirk. "Alright, let's get going, honey?"

"Yeah, let's head out."

It's already dark outside, and you two should probably go home, but you insist on taking a walk in the nearest park.

"There is a good spot to admire the sky,"  you reason, lifting up your finger and pointing to the appearing stars.

And of course Zombieman can't argue with you and accepts your offer, not that he minded it in the first place. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he begins walking with you. It doesn't take you long to reach the spot you were talking about. As both of you sit on the ground (the hero's arm is still wrapped around you to keep you warm), you notice that the sky is already full of different shining stars.

"Wow, so magnificent…" you comment; your voice sounds like you're hypnotized by the beauty of the view over you. That's quite understandable because Zombieman would act the same way as you do… if he wasn't already enamored by you, that is.

"Look! A falling star!" you suddenly exclaim, standing up and pointing at the sky. "Quick! Make a wish!"

Your boyfriend chuckles, amused by your enthusiasm, and stands up. He quickly glances at the star and returns his gaze back at you.

"You're everything I could ever wish for,"  the man says, patting your head. This makes you gasp and look at him with a flustered smile that Zombieman loves so much.

"B-baka! You can't just say things like that out of the blue!.."

"Oh, really? Didn't know there are specific circumstances to tell my girlfriend how I feel about her," as he finishes his words, you playfully jab his shoulder. "Ouch, what was that for?"

"For being a smartass. But just so you know… I feel the same way about you."

"And that makes the luckiest man in the world,"  he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer against his chest. "So, then what did you wish for?"

You place a finger on his lips, smirking, "I can't tell you. Otherwise it won't happen, you know?"

"Right, of course. Guess we will have to see, huh?" he smirks, tilting his head and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Little did both of you know that you made the same wish: to be together forever.

[apparentlytheproblem]

so, i was listening to lover by taylor swift and that made me create a fictional scenario in my head (again) well the part where taylor says "And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me" reminds me of george weasley 😭 😭😭 (I'm still in love with him 🤧)

I would be very excited if you wrote a one shot where the reader is a friend of hermaione and they spend all their time together with harry and ron. At one point fred notices this and befriends the reader (let's assume george was not there when fred approached the reader)

In short, the reader is someone quite funny and has a really charming laugh. At a time before one of snape's classes begins. Harry Ron and Mione next to the reader burst out laughing and as almost everyone was silent some turned to the group responsible for such a "rumble" the twins looked attentive and one of them (cofcofgeorgecofcof) was perplexed to see someone as cute and adorable as the reader will laugh like this, ""the most beautiful laugh you've ever heard""

As the days go by, George gets Fred to include him in a conversation with the reader to get to know each other more.

George and the reader become good friends and whenever George has the chance to be around the reader he doesn't miss it.

The reader is the type of person who also listens to everything the other says (and since the reader had a secret crush on georgie he was comfortable hearing him tell any bad joke or funny anecdote.)

Once in the great hall at howarts george and the reader were talking animatedly. Fred noticed how the reader smiled more and more every time George spoke to him and he also saw how her brother looked at her as if she were seeing the most beautiful thing in the world.

Anyway, at the Christmas ball, George stumbles over her words when he wants to invite the reader, which she ends up accepting.

They dance together, have fun and have their romantic moment when at that moment Fred enters throwing hints at her brother and her friend to confess her feelings.

When the party ends. On the way to the rooms. The reader and geoge end up confessing in a somewhat embarrassing way stumbling over their own words as well. (I love these cheesy 😭💗💗)

And the reader steals a kiss on the lips from George before going to sleep. Leaving georgie with a face the color of a tomato.

I would like the reader to be female if it is not so much to ask hehe.

I'm sorry if he is too dense to read, I hope you can understand what I wrote, my native language is not English and I'm literally translating this, I'm so sorry 😭😭

At first I was embarrassed to request this because of how corny it is but OH GOD HOW I LOVE THE FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

P.S. I love how you write, it's very beautiful 💓

s m i l e s

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- george weasley

a/n: tysm for requesting this with so much detail, im gonna attempt it to do it justice and thank you for taking the trouble to write this all out for me

p.s i love you and this literally has me giggling and smiling

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

Fred Weasley was a trouble maker. He was a see it and do it kind of learner. His sense of eyesight has never failed him and it never will. So what he saw infront of his eyes must be true, dear Georgie was falling in love.

You were maybe two years younger than the Weasley twins when Fred came running behind you to return your quill you forgot in the great hall. This caused a freindship to blossom and set the path of when the both of you would be in laws.

Hermione Granger had spent all day teasing about the wrong twin who's going to fall head over heels for you.

the five times Fred Weasley took notice of Georgie falling in love:

(1) shared portion class-

There were many things you couldnt do that would get you in trouble in potions with snape. But the one that lost you 10 points from your house was your laugh.

Last period on a hot friday evening was potions, but not just any class but the infamous joined classes with your senior year used to finish shared portions much quicker and that was the time where snape was most insuferable.

Sitting next to the trio was trouble in all kind of ways. When you couldnt contain a smile and laughed at everything indiscriminatley. Ron had retorted to one of snape's remarks had you giggling.

And that was when a certain weasley came into view or you to his. Georgie's head turned to the adorable laugh that filled his ears to face the most adorable girl he'd ever seen. Her nose was scrunched and shoulders lightly shaking and the prettiest smile stretching her lips.

And for once in his life he was speachless at the prettiest thing he's seen for all he could think was how he'd get drunk on that laugh everyday if he could have poured it all into a bottle and kept for himself.

As slick as georgie tried to be, fred noticed hid brother asking around for you, creating very difficult methods to get your attention and making the dumbest possible excuses to talk to you. That was the day freddie decides to play match maker.

(2) corny jokes-

"What did the fish say when he swam into the wall?" asked georgie looking very proud of himself. Fred did not know if it was because he managed to convince harry to let him beside her or of his new horrible joke he thought of all night.

"What?" you replied, looking as curious to hear. You took your concentration off your notes and paid attention.

"Dam, get it?"

You had tour head tilted back laughing that same damn way you did the first time and holy god.

(3) the look-

It was a saturday evening and almost no one was in the great hall. most on their way back from hogsmedge while a few stayed back. George and you had found your place is the corner of the grand table with the most exiting extanges. Freddie was maybe a few feet far, they 2 could never stay apart too long was having a great laugh with his batchmates. Turning around to share the joke with George he noticed the two extanging smiles and laughs and the twinkle they had in their eyes.

her smile could'nt get any bigger

and he couldnt look at anything with so much love

(4) dates-

You were a woman of many admirers, so why were you turning everyone down? Fred was hurting his head wondering if this would increase Georgie's confidence or inflate it.

To speak for you, you had made up your mind. if it wasnt Georgie then why bother?As much as you tried not to lead yourself on like this, how could you imagine anyone but him beside you. he'd be the only one you'd want to talk to when you're sad, the first to tell when you were happy over something, the someone who'd you'd hug and dance and twirl with. how could any other man compare when he was infront of you.

But when it comes to him it leaves you to be the confident one while he's a stumbling mess

"so uh..like i know..ball-"

"you asking me to the ball weasley?"

"uhr, not like that-"

"then like what love?"

"i mean like as- just us-"

"yes darlin"

(5) dancing

Swaying and stepping on eachother's feet kept both of you to keep bursting up with fits of laughter, but the star of the night? Fred.

He was always looming around dropping his comments to both of you playing the double agent.

"she looks so pretty in that dress, makes u wanna oohlala"

"georgie's eyes are so gliterry, you could get lost in them"

"her lips are pretty nice eh, you keep wandering around there"

"georgie is more than a nice arse, he could be your nice arse"

His words of aproval kept looming over eachother's conciousness. was it time, would i regret it? one thing leading to another, both of you found yourselves at the end of the night and the both of you were ready to take a leap of faith in the all might merlin who watches over you

"so-uh you know that you were- i mean are-"

"before you say anything, i uh-"

"m trying really hard here woman, you're- I like-"

"me- you like me georgie"

and with that he was utterly confused. how did she know? who told her? and then hit his realization. you liked him back too.

"you like me back"

"no shit sherlock"

you were trying very hard to keep your cool but georgie looked so kissable didnt he? and why not take a chance, might as well

you pressed him to a wall with your palm flattened next to him, caging him even if he was towering over you. with the other, you pulled his tie, pulling him in to a kiss to last a few mere seconds and walked away, leaving georgie looking as similar to a tomato

holy shit she kissed me

she kissed me

i have just been kissed-

[morningstarwrites]

You know sometimes people forget that Alastor was a young charming gentleman of the 20th century, he might not know much about love but he had been raised to be respectful with women, and he loved his mom very much. There is no way he wasn’t going left and right stealing hearts, even if he was too emotionally constipated to notice.

He’s charming by nature, and the fact that he hadn’t even notice that he said something out of the ordinary to Lucy, just show how much he is taking him in consideration. This is just a thought of mine, but I feel like Alastor is charming only with people that he respects dearly, and in your fic Lucifer is definitely becoming someone he cares about, which is making him pretty distracted, and he knows that. But instead of distancing himself he wants to reach that feeling and I just love it so much!

I usually don’t enjoy slow burn, cause they are slow lol, but this one is making me wish this was the plot of season 2

Thank you so much for ur nice words on my art, and thank u for writing this amazing fic. can’t wait to read more💖💗🦌✨🍎

He apparently gets along quite well with women so yeah totally! He's naturally playful, and since he's getting more and more comfortable with Lucifer I wanted to express that aspect of him more. And I want him to grab onto Lucifer and never let him go - eventually, haha.

Oh! Slow-burn is my jam, it's my favourite genre!! Thank you for giving my story a chance though, and you're so sweet. I have no idea what they're going to do for season 2 but let's hope it's fun!

Your fanart was lovely, and I appreciate you leaving me this message! Hope you'll enjoy the rest of my story ❤️

[jupitermoontarot24]

Hi guys !!! Just a quick reading for the weekend!!!! more juicy stuff otw 💗 ENJOY

CATCH ME ON PATREON FOR MORE EXCLUSIVE READINGS :)

piles 1-5

Pile 1

Okay so first off I want to say you have a lot of support around you. this could be physical support but also spiritual support. I feel like you're at a period where your spirit guys are hoping you and real physical 3D as well as the astral plane. but you have Goons like if anybody messes with you they get immediate Karma I feel like also you get immediate Good Karma. So if anyone has wronged you they can be getting Karma this weekend or just in general they can be getting there from. I feel like dressing a lot better this weekend, you might get some clothes, you might buy some stuff for your house or your room. Yeah you have definitely reached Queen / King status so you're basically untouchable. I don't think this has anything to do with the weekend is just the overall energy of you. yeah you're in this nine of Cups nine of Pentacles energy. I feel like you also have a lot of options and love so you might get approached this weekend physically or online.  get for some people you could go on a date that could lead to some sexy time. This could be somebody you went to school with doesn't have to be but it could be somebody from your past or it could be somebody new. a horn beeped outside as soon as I said new so for a lot of people this will be a new person. Yes so for you this weekend all the people that have done you wrong or have passed any type of false judgment on you is getting their karma and you're getting good karma. so you'll be being handed stuff energetically and physically because the will has turned in your favor. so you could be going towards unionship this weekend, you will be getting messaged by different suitors just refilling your cup. Yeah cuz I feel like Spirit was watching the whole time and now they're like okay it's time for us to rule in the right person's favor. Overall you have a good weekend but I think this is just the reality of your life now so you just have really good support and fun. The wheel has officially turned in your favor

David Correy - Body Language

Pile 2

So you could be entering in your fairy tale ERA this weekend. so if you were dealing with an ex you could be meeting a real lover. it's kind of reminds me of pile 1 so you could have broken up with somebody or been single and you have now met someone else. this person could be your type, they good know how to work you if you know what I mean. I think it'll be really sexy too this person is rough around the edges and a good way. but they're definitely not Square or too soft, they have a very healed masculinity, take it how it resonates. Definitely read the previous pile because this could be the person you're coming into Union with. ooh and you guys could have a very adventurous night if you know what I mean. this person could have someone and I'm not going to say that they cheat but they might leave their person for you. both you guys can have options so maybe the both of you guys are talking to people casually maybe they have somebody a little bit more seriously but it doesn't matter because you guys are meant to be in Union together. yeah it's almost like Obsession upon the first link so it doesn't really matter if you were in a relationship or this person is going to happen regardless. so this person could message you, they can pop up on you but they definitely want to planning date or you guys will have a date. So it seems like if you do get with this person it's going to be very Serene and peaceful and like a fairy tale. this might be an artist of some type, finger, writer, painter. but something will definitely be changing within yourself you're definitely going to be switching timelines this weekend yeah and by you switching timelines is going to bring you to this 10 of Pentacles instead of nine. and it's going to lead you to a King. This person could have been waiting to come and see you maybe because you had so many options or something. but you definitely switch timelines and you jump into this fairy tale so fast and easy. it's like an instant.Yes like you guys can't deny each other anymore or something happens as to where they come forward. and confess their feelings. 

Chxrry22 - The Falls (Official Music Video)

Ambré - I’m Baby ft. Jvck James

Pile 3

So for you I feel like your weekend forecast involves you hanging out with one of your friends. but it's some good news is being shared so you can have really good news, if you're coming from another pile the good news could be you're coming into Union with a partner a soulmate. for some people you could be getting back with an ex  but a good x. you know who this person is so whoever popped in your mind when you thought about it, this could be a twin flame but definitely a soul man. yeah this person could message you or this could be somebody completely new. but they definitely want to have a conversation so I feel like you'll be letting your friend or  family member no. but it almost gives me like tea party Vibes so getting together and talking and being excited. There could be different emotions going on. Because of this Union you might have other suitors coming in because they feel this energetically so you might get a lot of confessions or just confessions from people who actually match your frequency. a queen of Cups could confess to you as well this weekend. yeah cuz they might see that y'all are in Union and that puts them and the energy of a race. yeah because this person will feel some type of way about it but the way they go about it is not just being sad if anything they're going to fight for you and tell you how they feel so this person will probably message you as well because they're obsessed with you and they will probably waiting outside with this person. Read pile 2 lol 

Diddy - Dirty Money - Yesterday ft. Chris Brown

Kodie Shane - Too Deep (Official Visualizer)

Pile 4

So for your weekend work as you can have somebody calling you at night. at nighttttttt SpongeBob voice lol.Someone can wake up out their sleep and call you, somebody can have a dream about you and wake up and call you. but it's specifically calling so they probably want to hear your voice it's something that triggers this person to want to speak to you physically. this could be a twin flame because they might feel your energy and they want to call you or maybe they have a dream about you something. Yeah maybe you astral project to this person or they pull you into their dreams but either way I would like to think they have a very Vivid dream about you and it's only about you and it makes them wake up and call you. maybe even in the dream they're getting told to call you and they're waking state. This person probably watches you on social media watches videos of you stuff like that. but this person could dream about like the whole time they've known you so this is somebody from your past especially it's one flame they dream of when they first met you to now almost like their life flashing before their eyes with you they probably even dream of the future too. so this person could dream of when I first met you to you guys being married and having children and stuff. if not that I think this person dreams of the first time they met you up until you guys having a physical Union in real life. so when they wake up they're like I need to have physical Union right now because I just dreamed of it and I seen how it played out. this person could have smoked or got drunk before they went to sleep and that's why it was so vivid or something. but this person definitely they might they don't have your number they might call you through I want to say FaceTime, facebook, Instagram something. I just felt real Dizzy soon as I said that so this person might start drinking right now I am doing this on a Friday so they can call you Friday night. Yeah you definitely have some history with the person so if you guys haven't been seeing other eye they want to fix it. 

Chxrry22 - Favorite Girl (Lyric Video) ft. Offset

YK Osiris - They Don't Love You

Pile 5

This reminds me of pile 4 so read that pile first lol. I feel like you will be haunting a lot of people this weekend. you can be Astro traveling to a lot of people and their waking state, and their dreams, and any nap they take you'll be there. You also could be leaving a unwanted timeline you'll be timeline jumping as you Astro travel so anything that you wanted to leave behind you have. but you're going to be invading everybody's mind. somebody could also be calling you while you're with somebody, a lot of people could be hitting you up while you're with somebody specific because everybody is going to be thinking about you. you'll definitely be put on a pedestal especially when it comes to Communications so a lot of people going to feel like they have something to say to you and they want you to hear it. so it's going to be a lot of physical calls or people trying to physically see you because they don't want to be ignored. this could have already been happening you you might notice that people have been texting you out the blue, exes have been texting you out the blue I feel like it's mostly because Mercury retrograde is over. Yeah people could be coming from the club and calling you, you could be on different time zones with people and they're calling you a different times. yeah you have a lot of suitors trying to come in and talk to you. So I feel like your forecast for the weekend will be you trying to juggle all this communication but really just go with your heart and the most stable opportunity. Could be a king of Cups involved 

Dub P - Somebody Loves You feat. Corryna (Official Music Video)

Dub P - My Love (Official Video)