#i would say i’m shocked but i’m really not

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> smut, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> yunho ( centric ) x reader warning(s) -> smut, mdni. 18+ words -> 3.5k

abstract -> sometimes... the quietest are who are suffering the most

yunho’s perspective

How long have I been looking at this wall?

It was boring that I was stuck in here alone with my thoughts. I missed Mingi… even if we lived poorly. We had many stories about being on the street… but it was selfish of me to reminisce. He was happier… healthier and way better than he would be with me. 

“Yunho… cheer up today! There’s an adoption fair this afternoon!” The employee said I could only offer a soft smile to cover up my emptiness. 

Maybe… I'll get adopted and get a new start.

Maybe someone will fill the whole Mingi left… and I can atone for what I did when I was a thief, especially to her.

y/n’s perspective

“I see,” Mingi said after I finally sat down and talked to him about it. “Is it selfish to want to ask you to adopt him… but also feel sick at the thought?” he said and I smiled softly. 

“I’m leaving this decision to you, if you’re not comfortable with me adopting him I won’t” I confirmed and he nodded. “I just don’t want to feel like he’s replacing me” he muttered and I sighed. 

“He’d never replace you… look at it like this, Mingi. Yeosang and Wooyoung had the same insecurity” I said and he looked shocked.

“Wooyoung got so bad that he got into a small depressive episode cause he thought I’d abandon him… that I only adopted him because I wanted to be with San,” I said and he stayed silent… deep in thought.

“I don’t treat them differently do I?” I asked and he shaked his head. “And Yeosang thought the same thing but I'd never treat any of you differently…you’re my made family,” I said and he then hugged me in I rubbed his back hoping to comfort him. 

“Yunho had everything… he was perfect and he was never punished or anything. He would get away with everything” he muttered clearly envious. “You wouldn't be treated differently,” I said and he nodded. 

“I know… and I do really miss him,” he said with a sad smile.  “Today is an adoption fair… so this decision–” “I want Yunho back,” he said, cutting me off. 

In the end… they were a bonded pair. 

mingi’s perspective

I felt sick… nervous, anxious… What if he didn’t want to see me again? What if he decided to take revenge and steal them all from me? But I also really missed him. I wanted him by my side again…

The adoption fair was huge… It had lots of people looking at hybrids, special needs hybrids, yellow codes, some orange codes, and of course the green codes. But there wasn’t any place to see red or purple code hybrids, not to mention the black codes. 

Everyone though always seemed to be attracted to green codes, the prejudice of other codes sometimes isn’t aggression. But instead mental health or– “Jaemin told me that’s his” she whispered to me while pointing at the kennel at the end of the hall.

“Can I… go alone first?” I asked and she gave me a sweet smile and let go of my hand. I took a deep breath as I walked to the kennel. Yunho didn’t even see or hear me… he looked lost in thought lying down on his bed that could barely even fit him. 

“What’s so interesting about the ceiling?” I said and his ears twitched as he looked at me clearly confused. “Mingi…” he said and I swear I saw his eyes start to tear up. “You look… so much better,” he said as he got closer to the glass door shielding us from each other. 

“Yeah… she treats me like them. You were right about her you know… she’s one of the good ones” I said and he chuckled. He then just looked at me with a soft smile he used to… “I missed you” he muttered and I smiled. “I did too,” I said.

“Why are you here, Mingi?” he asked and I smiled. “No… I don’t want her to adopt me” he said and I was confused… “Mingi… I know you. You’ll get mad and not say anything… you’ll get jealous, and I want you to be–” “I won’t…” I know I was lying but I really wanted Yunho by my side again. 

Everyone back home was amazing but… Wooyoung and San were glued to each other, and so were the tigers. Yeosang was independent… I wanted someone who would be by my side again. Even if I regret this decision. 

But would I regret my decision?

“Want me to formally introduce you to the sweetest human you’ll ever meet?” I asked and he still looked at me skeptical but laughed anyway. “How is it?” he asked, now relaxing and I smiled, wanting to show him everything. Maybe even ask Seonghwa and Wooyoung to make my favorite dishes for them to make him. 

“Where do I even start? I just know you’ll love it”

y/n’s perspective

“Mingi worries me…” I confessed to Kun. Mingi said he wanted to talk to Yunho some more so I told him I'd get the adoption papers done. “His weakness is Yunho… he seems to have a possessive part of him. He wouldn’t want to share with Yunho but I think in a way he also doesn't wanna share Yunho” he said and I agreed. “What if in the end, I can’t keep Yunho because Mingi won’t allow it?” I ask and he sighs. 

“Then I doubt Yunho will ever be adopted… or he has a really rare chance of it,” he said and I sighed. 

“There's nothing we can do but… risk it huh?” I asked and he nodded while I signed everything. I was truly worried about how everyone was gonna treat Yunho. They treated Mingi… great and honestly had the better transitions into our home but… Yunho I was really worried about and not because of everyone else but Mingi himself. 

I waited in the waiting room when I saw Renjun and Mingi. “Yunho will be out soon but Mingi isn’t allowed in the grooming nor in Doyoung-hyung’s office” he explained and I nodded as he went back to work. 

“Are you excited?” I asked and he grinned. “I finally have him back!” he said happily and I hoped… My worries were for nothing. He talked about Yunho constantly, telling everyone stories and only good things about him. While I knew he had some jealousy and envy towards the golden retriever hybrid.

None of it had aligned with his medical records. And how he was abused more than Mingi was. 

Kun confirmed it… the file as well. 

He confessed to being starved for weeks at a time and even being physically and sexually abused. While Mingi was also abused… he was starved for one week at a time, and physically abused. His heat and Yunho’s would also sync together making his previous owner lock him in a closet while– 

“Yunho!” I felt myself snap away from my thoughts and see the golden retriever hybrid who I once thought was human now in a temporary collar and clothes while Mingi hugged him. He was attached quickly… They were a bonded pair after all. 

Yunho didn’t want to look me in the eye and I didn’t push him too as Mingi just ranted and said he was gonna love their new home. Yunho only silently nodded and smiled… he was happy but looked reluctant. 

“Ohh! And every week y/n takes me out to these cafes after my session! y/n the next time we go can we bring him a lot of the pastries!” he exclaimed and I agreed happily. 

Yunho was also given therapy sessions but bi-weekly… and on Mondays… but for now I didn’t want to tell Mingi that… I didn’t want him to think Yunho was taking things from him already 

 At the apartment, everyone gave him a warm welcome… which Mingi said they should but he already looked a little dejected. Even saying “When I first came, everyone kinda hated me since we did steal from y/n,” he said already showing him the difference… Wooyoung was the first to speak up and say they warmed up pretty quickly to him but I didn’t necessarily tell them to be careful. 

Though Yeosang and Seonghwa already seem skeptical. 

Mingi soon dragged him around to show him everywhere away from everyone… Even when Wooyoung offered, he was immediately rejected by Mingi.

“What's the wolf’s problem?” Yeosang asked and I sighed. “A long story,” I said and he hummed while taking me to his room where Seonghwa followed.

“Mingi is acting differently towards us… almost like he doesn’t want us to get close to Yunho?” Seonghwa added and I sighed. “Mingi is extremely envious of Yunho. In his file it says he has a love-hate relation with his bonded pair. Jealous that he was treated better in his eyes in their old home even saying he had more favoritism while Mingi had the hard-hitting abuse” I said and they nodded. 

“Was it not like that?” Yeosang asked and I shook my head. I handed him the file from my purse which he and Seonghwa read and they didn’t seem to read much before handing it back to me. 

“So… what happens to the two?” he asked and I shrugged. “Nothing… we have to act normal and accept Yunho cause he’s a part of our home now”

yunho’s perspective

I wonder just how much she knew about the problem of me being here truly. Seeing Mingi already trying to isolate me from the others was… not a good sign. 

Of course, he can’t do it forever. So while I had my own room, he already said how he was jealous of that but because no one could share a room with me. 

He was mated to her… they all were, which was shocking. He clearly stated how much living here was like a dream and how much he wanted me here but deep down he was a liar. 

Eventually, Mingi would show everyone just how much he hated me. Because while I do believe I mean something to him… at least in private, to others I'm soon gonna be discarded. Mingi hates when I take things from him because he assumes I already have more than him. 

But I wanted to be selfish and enjoy my time with him… at least for the time being. I really did miss him and I could only hope he missed me like he was saying. 

I don’t deserve a lifetime with him… so I'm hoping that fate can offer me a small amount of time with him until we separate again. 

Mingi was not doing well emotionally.

I was happy seeing that he could interact with other hybrids so easily and even y/n who really was the sweetest person I’ve ever and probably will ever meet. 

So seeing her trying to explain that I had a check-in with the hybrid specialist did not hit him well. Especially since I would be alone with her… doing something that was just like he would.

“Can I come with you?” he asked and she gave him a tight smile.

“Mingi…” she said trailing off and Yeosang scoffed. He wasn’t rude to me but he also seemed to understand what was happening actually… I think they all knew. 

“It's for his health… you want him to be okay and happy with us right?” she asked him and he stayed silent before eventually nodding. “You should start going any longer and you’ll be late,” Hongjoong said and she nodded but not before looking at Mingi who was silently looking at the ground. 

He didn’t even bother to look once as we left but I could see he was mad… his fists were clenched and his tail nervously moved. When we come back it won’t be a happy ending. 

“I’m hoping he comes around to the realization… that well, you aren’t taking anything from him,” I said and he smiled softly. “So you noticed it too? Sorry…” he apologized and it made me wonder if Yunho was gonna be harder to transition into being in a happy home. 

“It’s not your fault… don’t apologize when it's not needed I just hope you can enjoy it while being with us,” I said and he chuckled softly. “Everyone is really nice and you’re really exactly who I thought you’d be maybe even more… I hope so too that Mingi comes to the realization” he confessed and I nodded. 

The rest of the walk was… quiet and well by the time we were here I wondered if Yunho would ever open up to me.

“You okay?” I heard and saw Jaemin. “Yeah… just worried for Yunho,” I said and he sighed. “Did Kun tell you about Yunho not being up for adoption anymore?” he asked and I nodded. He looked sad but it was a part of this job…

“Yunho is such a sweet hybrid but… so susceptible to pretending everything is okay and that makes him an easy target you know that” he explained and it was true. With him being so easily obedient his masking of how he actually feels is dangerous. 

When hybrids are trained as well… obedient servants it makes it hard for them to find homes after since either transition will be hard or they’ll find themselves in another abusive home. These hybrids are often taken to the country with other hybrids and… well are under the hands of breeders. Which treat them well but… Mingi would regret it if that happened. 

“y/n? Can we talk privately before Yunho is dismissed?” Kun came to ask and I nodded and said my goodbyes to Jaemin. “He’s finding it hard to interact with your other hybrids due to mingi, I would probably recommend separating them in the home for the time being but be careful since it might trigger Mingi. So I would recommend to talk it out with both of them” he offered and I nodded. 

I trusted Kun’s input and Mingi needed something to push him into accepting a reality check. 

I went outside after signing papers where I saw Yunho. He was currently sharing Mingi’s clothes and… well he even said he didn’t mind so I knew it came from a place of jealousy. He’d hate to see Yunho get treated better than him… 

Mingi… didn’t like the day we got Yunho a collar either but I had to sit down and tell him it's something all of them have. Something that they have uniquely for them but from the same material each other has. 

Mingi has a brownish pink collar while Yunho has a gray one with soft yellow jewels on it. The gesture alone I know made Mingi upset. 

“Are you hungry? We could pass–” “No thanks…” he rejected and I know why. Though I didn’t want to push it… “I’ll ask Wooyoung to make you something special then?” I asked and he shook his head. 

He would continue to reject anything given to him… as long as Mingi showed his insecurity. 

yunho's perspective

I was worried about going up the elevator. Mingi exactly waiting…

“Mingi can I talk with you?” she asked and he nodded softly as she looked at me and gestured me to follow. Her other hybrids looked confused but as we made it to her room she gave us a shy smile. 

“Kun offered some advice… that the two of you should separate for a bit just to help the transition. Mingi you should let him go around the apartment alone and even with everyone else okay?” she asked and he nodded softly. 

“And please… share what you’re feeling? Bottling it up isn’t good for you” she told me and we nodded as we left her room. Mingi was angry…

“Did you go somewhere after?” he asked and I shook my head. “No, I wanted to come back to–” “I bet you did…” he muttered as he walked off but I sighed and caught up to him to grab his wrist when he suddenly jerked back and looked at me angrily. 

“Why do you steal everything from me!” he yelled at me and I knew this was gonna happen. “I went through hell with our old owner and you got off easy! You never suffered anything! You were 'Golden Boy Yunho'!” he yelled angrily and it was starting to piss me off. 

“Mingi?” I heard as I saw the panther… Mingi stayed silent, probably clearing his jealous thoughts. “Can you give us some privacy?” he asked and the panther sighed. “You do know that she isn't the type of person to replace you? She’s not a hybrid collector” he corrected and Mingi stayed silent as he left.

“They weren’t hybrid collectors either… So why? Why was I the only one punished!” he yelled again and I knew he needed to get this out of him. “I hate you… I wish we weren’t bonded so we didn't have to be stuck with each other!” he yelled and I let out a shaky sigh. 

“You know nothing about what I went through–” “Did you ever stop to think, what if I just never told you about what I went through?” I asked and he scoffed. “Like what huh?! She’d favor you always–” “If you haven't eaten for a day Mingi, I didn’t eat for two! If you were locked in a closet I was the one physically punished! You weren't the only one so stop okay!” I yelled... I am now sick of it, pretending I was okay when... just wanted to forget. 

“Don’t you ever wonder what’s happening to me when you're locked in the closet? Or how long has it been since I ate, if you were being punished? Why do you think she liked me so much huh? I did everything I could for you… and in the end, you won’t ever care! You’ve always hated me when I always tried my best!” I cried out now. 

He looked shocked but he shook his head… “Liar,” he said and I sighed and left the room. I can’t stay here if he really does hate me. I knew he’d regret having her adopt me…

I went through the fridge looking for things I could take that would last me a while. 

“Planning on running away?” I heard and I looked behind me to see them all… besides her. I was caught red-handed… “Why are you fighting so much with the overgrown wolf?” Yeosang asked and I sighed.

“He’s always hated me… ever since we were kids. He still thinks he was the only one getting punished but he would get smaller punishments from her” I explained. 

“So you took his blame most of the time?” Seonghwa asked and I nodded. “She finds every little thing to blame him and when I finally stood up for him, she said I could take his punishment. So she would starve Mingi and me but then she’d give me the choice. She'd give me one plate of food for a whole week which I'd sneak little bites but gave the rest to Mingi. Or if he was locked away in heat, she would get physical with me” I explained and I couldn’t look at any of them. 

“y/n knows… she has the records of your abuse in a file. She was hoping you and Mingi could clear things up” Hongjoong said and I shook my head. I subconsciously fiddled with the collar she gifted me.

“Mingi would never believe me… and I never corrected him. I let him hate me cause it was easier that way. I told him he’d regret me being here… so I’m sorry” I apologized and Wooyoung now got closer to me and opened the fridge. 

“If you’re gonna leave you should at least have a good meal” he muttered and I was shocked. “We’re not gonna stop you from doing anything but…we also can’t just let you go without nothing,” Seonghwa said and I noticed San was missing. 

“He isn’t gonna tell her…” Yeosang confirmed and I didn’t believe him until I saw him again. “She had some clothes for you to try on that she was planning on giving you eventually,” he said, handing me a trench coat and warmer clothes. Hongjoong also appeared with money… “This should get you around for a week,” he said and I nodded. 

“Why?” I asked confused and they shrugged. “You’re really unhappy… you can fool Mingi but everyone else can see how upset you are. Even if she can… she was planning on taking you back or finding someone to adopt you but if you're running away then there's no point” Hongjoong said and I didn’t want to cry in front of them. 

“This should be good for you, make sure to eat well” I heard as I saw Wooyoung hand me a lunch box and I couldn’t stop the tears. 

“I’m sorry I caused so much trouble” 

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[sweetsoobie]

Which drama would you like to watch tonight? 𓏲𝄢

Choi Soobin — 20th century girl | ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

𝓖enre • fluff, angst

When your best friend has to go abroad for heart surgery, she asks you to gather as much information as possible about her latest crush. But everything gets mixed up when you realize you've been studying the wrong guy the entire time.

Choi Yeonjun — King the Land | ꪆৎ

𝓖enre • fluff, smut

At the king hotel, where smiling is mandatory, you’re known for your irresistible smile, but for some reason, your new boss, Choi Yeonjun, can’t stand it.

Choi Beomgyu — When I Fly Towards You | ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

𝓖enre • fluff, friends to lovers

On a rainy day, you fall in love with Beomgyu at first sight, thinking you’ll never see him again. But when you transfer schools, you’re shocked to discover that he’s one of the top students there.

Kang Taehyun — Meow the Secret Boy | ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

𝓖enre • smut, hybrid au, slight angst

You never expected your cat hybrid, Taehyun, to be the jealous type, But when you get too close to an old friend, he makes it clear that he’s not willing to share.

Huening Kai — a Business Proposal | ✮⋆˙

𝓖enre • smut

Unknowingly sending your best friend to take your place for a date with her company’s CEO turned out to be one of the best things you’ve ever done—especially since you get to have his secretary instead.

Hiii!! This is my first time writing so I thought that I would start with a small series!! These fics are based off of my favorite dramas that fit each txt member. I don’t know exactly when they will release but the Taehyun fic will definitely come out first bc I’m really excited abt it!! I’m thinking like 1-2 weeks. If you want to support me, like and repost bc it really helps!! Pls look forward to the first fic bc I can say with full certainty it will NOT disappoint ‼️‼️im really excited to start the year fresh and try something new!!

© Sweetsoobie 2025 | Do not repost, translate, or take my works from this platform. Please and thank you.

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The only thing you register is the murky darkness beneath you and the ice above your head. It's calm for a long moment before you feel the twinge in your lungs and your body lurches with a suffocating need. You pound on the ice ceiling, acheiving nothing but bruised palms as the air bubbles leaving your mouth accumulate on the ice.

Then suddenly a sallow hand reaches up from the depths and grabs your leg. The knight’s dead eyes scrutinise you from below, as if offended that you would struggle against this well-deserved fate. Your scream is drowned by the water as you're pulled down, further and further into the icy abyss.

You jolt awake, breathing harsh and eyes frantic. You look around the room, brown curtains shut out the light of the moon, high in the sky. Thick sheets cover you, yet you're still cold, ever aware of the vacant spot next to you that wasn’t when you went to bed. Your heart aches, with longing or exhaustion, you're not sure.

Light emits from the ajar bedroom door. You climb out of the large bed, shuffling away heavy sheets and fixing your thick winter nightgown. You tiptoe down the short hallway, cold stone ground chilling your nerves through your socks until you reach the thick carpet that covers most of the living room.

Your orc sits in the middle of the room, hunched over the dining room table. A candle on the table casts a warm glow, you can hear graphite against paper, the movements slow and deliberate. He only notices your presence when you touch his shoulder. The orc looks up at you from his seat, and your eyes must have been red or puffy because he immediately knows something is wrong. He pushes out his chair so that he’s facing you and gives you a worried look.

You shake your head, trying to ease his concerns but knowing it won't work. He plays with the sleeve of the loose tunic he must have slipped on when he woke up and then reaches out to softly wrap thick fingers around your wrist, sliding them down until he holds your hand in his. It’s warm and grounding, his thumb slides over your knuckles, questioning but never demanding. You sigh and say,

“I had a nightmare.”

You place your hands together and rest your head on them, closing your eyes, trying to convey the action of sleeping and then you shoot your head upright, trying to convey shock. His face lights up in recognition and even though the hasty gestures are a little embarrassing, you still feel…proud when he understands you.

He says a string of orcish and you only catch the words, “I’m sorry.”  He then gestures to himself and nods sadly.

He had a nightmare as well?

You feel foolish for not considering that, extremely foolish for feeling disappointed when you noticed he wasn’t in bed with you, as if he isn’t dealing with his own troubles, as if you’re the only one who’s looked death in the face. Your eyes flick to his chest. How long has it been since you’ve cleaned his wound? Are you really so selfish you can’t remember to clean the fresh wound of the one you call your lover? You look from where his wound should be then back to his eyes, silently asking for permission to touch. He nods and you lift his tunic up his chest until you reach the wound, a wound covered by fresh, clean, white bandages. You scrunch your eyebrows and look back up at him, he looks back with a proud smile, almost smug, you’d say.

You scoff, drop his tunic back down and look away, irritation flowing from you. You’re glad that he knows how to clean his own wounds, you never doubted he couldn’t but you're responsible for that lifelong scar and you feel an obligation to help take care of it. You just want to make up for the pain you’ve caused, why isn’t he letting you? Not only have you not thanked him nearly enough for saving your life, but you've only made his life worse by being in it.

Your lover notices your mood and reaches for your hands again, leading your eyes to meet his, when you do, you can’t help but let the pain flow freely onto your face. The self-loathing finally too much to try and hide it from him with a tight smile. He sighs and brings your hands to his shoulders, pulling you gently until you’re sitting on his lap, head placed right next to his beating heart. He whispers something in orcish, rubbing your back. You know he doesn't see it the way you do, he doesn't see you as a burden but that doesn't negate the fact that you are burdening him. And yet, despite knowing this, you cling to him so tightly, wholly unwilling to let go. When did you become so selfish?

You look away from him and notice the loose pages on the table. There are loose pages with scribbled orcish and human common, some messily scratched out while others are crumpled into tight balls. You reach for one of the loose pages unthinkingly, but your lover reaches them first and pushes them further away. You're slightly startled by the action and look up to see him turned away, cheeks dark and eyebrows scrunched. He's angry or maybe embarrassed? Maybe he's angry because he’s embarrassed? You reach for his cheek to make him look at you and when he does, you lightly nod your head, trying to convey that you won’t peek at what he’s writing if he doesn’t want you to. You think he understands as his shoulders ease up and his hand comes back to your waist. You rest your head against his chest and let out a tired breath, closing your eyes. His fingers comb gently along your scalp as he eases back against the chair, with you nestled comfortably in his arms. You didn't intend to fall asleep but sleep comes anyway, it always seems to come so easy when you're close to him like this.

When you’re nudged awake, you can see out the window that some time has elapsed since you fell asleep, but not enough that the sun has come up yet. You rub your eyes and look up at the lovely orc who woke you. He looks down at you apologetically and nods his head towards the paper on the table. You reposition yourself and reach for the page, straightening up when you realise just how much is written on it, more than either of you have written before. You thoroughly rub your eyes clean of sleep and with one more glance towards his nervous face, you begin reading.

“My name is Շɿoþƚɿiǫ.

Please tell me your name.

I can’t might not be able to pronounce it but I want to try.

In my mind I have been calling you Ꮦлαᗩ, I think it will mean “My Love" in Human.

I’m sorry it is this way. Sorry you have to leave home. Sorry you had to kill that man those men. Sorry that you lose sleep. Sorry your life has changed so much. I want to I will make it better for you.

When you said you love me, do you mean it in the way I mean it?

Orc courting are different from humans, so I will explain.

I think of you when you are not here, I want to touch you when you are close, I want to make you smile and laugh. I want to make my home feel like your home.

Orcs don’t have marriage but we do have courting. This is what I want with you and I deeply wish that you feel the same.

If this is not what you meant then I'm sorry for misunderstanding.

I still love you.”

You read the letter once, wipe your tears and then read it again. He only looks back down at you when he hears your wet sniffle. His hand massaging your thigh stops moving, he looks at you with worry. You don’t know what else to do, so you nod your head and cry, pulling him into a hug. You hold him close, not knowing at all how else to respond besides burying your head in his neck and nodding, a poor attempt at an affirmation. He rubs his hand down your back, hugging you back, clearly hesitant but it seems like a weight has been lifted from him.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down. You thought you were good at hiding your emotions and being stoic but it may just be that you’d never actually felt such strong emotions in the first place, and now that you do, you have no idea how to hide or even manage them, it’s incredibly embarrassing.

Even more so when he is so patient with you, letting you melt into him, letting you wet his shoulder and hiccup into his chest. You curse yourself, he must be so nervous, anxiously waiting for a clear response to his carefully crafted words but all you can do is cry and nod.

You pull away, wipe your raw eyes and hiccup one more time before turning around and grabbing the thick graphite pencil. You sit on his lap and begin paging through the dictionary. He sits patiently, arms around your waist, resting his head on the back of your shoulders, giving you the same privacy you gave him to write your thoughts out. You struggle immensely with choosing the right words, there’s so much you want to say but it doesn’t need to be a poetic love letter, it needs to be clear and understandable. Even though he deserves all the most beautiful poetry the world could craft.

You are, unfortunately, not a world-renowned poet. You feel so exposed and it's ridiculous, honestly, trying to channel your most intense emotions into graphite lines on a page. You're not even sure any medium, language or alphabet could truly express these feelings but you have to try for him. You write until dawn is approaching, looking down at the orcish words your own hands have written, you sigh to yourself wearily.

You nudge the orc behind you and he simply hugs your form tighter. The man fell asleep around halfway through your painful writing process, back against the chair with his arms never leaving your waist. He breathes in deeply, sleep melting away slowly as he comes to.

You gently unwrap his heavy arms from around you and stand up, placing your letter in front of him on the table before he can argue about the loss of contact. He rubs his eyes and stares down at the page, you try not to stare at him while fidgeting to the side. He glances at you for a second and then pulls his chair in a little, picking up the small page.

“My name is ______

I would love to hear you say it.

This is difficult so I will be direct.

Please don’t be sorry for me. I killed for you because I love you and I don’t regret it.

That is what I mean when I say I love you. It means I want to protect you, clean your wounds, make food with you, help you when you can't sleep.

These are things I have never felt before you.

I don't know why you saved me from the ice, but I will live my life trying to thank you for it. Even if you say I already have.

I have never dreamt of marriage but I dream of you. I want to live with you next to me, I want you to be my home. We can call it courting or marriage, as long as I get to love you and feel your love in return.

I think you understand me perfectly, My Lover”

At least that's what you hope it says. Taking into account punctuation, tense and grammer issues, it probabaly reads very differently.

Your stomach churns when you remember all the sincerity that went into those penciled words, and still it isn't half as thoughtful as his. His was so beautiful and concise, while yours feels not nearly as put together. He deserves better. What if you translated it so badly that he doesn’t understand? You realise that he must have been feeling this exact same way when you were reading his letter but that thought only quells your anxiety a little.

You feel like hours go by in just those few minutes. You can't decide if you want to watch him read it or avert your gaze, so you do both, glancing back at him every few seconds while trying to give him the patience and privacy to read in his own time. You can’t help but watch how he rubs his eyes and sniffs quietly, you want so badly to console him but you just stand there and wait.

He wipes his eyes once more and stands up from his chair, moving closer to you, reaching out his hand for you to take. You do and he brings you into his hold. You hug tightly as he bends down to fully engulf you. He whispers something into your shoulder and gives the skin a little kiss over the material of your nightgown. You try to separate to ask him what he’s trying to say but he squeezes you close, nuzzling into your neck. He mutters in orcish and kisses your neck, repeating the process all the way up your neck until he reaches your lips. He looks into your eyes and it seems that whatever he was looking for in them was found when he leans his head onto yours.

You lean forward just a bit to kiss him, the same as your kisses have been before, slow and deliberate, meant to convey as much as possible. When you can’t convey something with words you have to convey it with actions. You separate from the kiss and he breathes out a soft word in orcish which you can now identify as “My love” and he blesses you with another searing kiss. You kiss back, feeling his tusks on your cheeks as the kiss deepens.

His hands smooth down to your thighs, where he picks you up slightly and places you on the dining table so he doesn’t have to bend down so far, you assume. He still kisses you so lovingly, whispering soft orcish. You try to decipher his words but your thoughts are quickly led astray by his lips on yours and his hand gently intertwined with your hair, holding you as close as possible while leaving room to move away if you please. You don’t.

As you kiss, you wrap your legs around as much of his waist as you can, just trying to get as close as possible, your chest presses against his and you're grateful for the scant layers between you. You can feel the fabric of his tunic dampen with sweat, the downsides of running so hot, you suppose. Though it doesn’t feel like such a downside to him as he feels your hand trail up under the tunic, feeling the thick fat and dense muscle of his stomach, he shivers at your touch but the cold doesn’t stop him from reaching back and yanking his tunic off, tossing it aside as if it offended him.

You stare at your lover, now able to appreciate his physique with all your attention, nothing to distract you from following his chest hair down to the trail that disappears into his sleep pants. His chest moves up and down with every breath as your gaze lingers, you bite back a grin when you think you can see him flexing his arms. You like that he can feel your eyes on him.

Your gaze meanders back up to his face, framed by messy strands of black hair contrasting strongly with his cream-white tusks. You want to feel those pretty tusks on your neck again, grazing against the soft skin there. He can clearly see you staring at them and he bends down to your height, resting his hands on the table on either side of your thighs. His face is inches away from you, his amused grin mirroring your slightly more nervous one. You lean forward and kiss him flat on the lips, then kiss both his tusks, your way of letting him know you accept him as he is, in the same way you know he does. A way of saying you love him, not despite the fact that he’s an orc or because he’s an orc but that you love him as whatever he may be. You hold his face in place while you attack him with loving kisses and pull him into your neck, not so subtly encouraging him to lay his own kisses on the recently discovered, very sensitive area. Your hands travel down his broad shoulders, feeling up the large expanse of muscle and skin.

He finally moves his hands to cup both of your thighs, touch burning hot, you let him trail his hands up your thighs until he’s massaging the fat around your hips. Your thighs squeeze around him as you shiver, the fabric pooling at your hips. You can see his eyes linger where your nightgown pools at your hips as your legs wrap around his waist. After debating a bit in your head, you make the decision to shift and shuffle your nightgown up and off your body, the action making you feel much more vulnerable than you expected, even in the heat of the moment. He stares unabashedly, trailing his hands up and down your waist. You can’t help but cover your breasts from him, it’s not that you’re shy, that’s not the word for it, though you’re clearly overwhelmed and a little out of your depth.

Luckily, it seems he understands. He places a kiss on your lips and then trails a few down your neck, making sure to nudge his tusks against the skin, it looks like he's figuring out exactly what you like. He then places kisses all over your neck and shoulders, he kisses as if he's blessed to even get to offer his affections at all. You breathe deep and let yourself feel his warmth, slowly taking your arm away from your chest and sliding the hand behind his head. You lead him down and he follows, trailing kisses down your chest until his hot tongue makes contact with your nipple, and you downright moan.

He moans back in return, suckling so sweet and gentle. He brings a hand up to your other breast to feel the weight of it in his hand. He pulls your hips closer to his, at the edge of the table, he has to bend down a considerable amount to reach your tits and have your hips meet his, but it’s clearly worth it for him.

You can feel how big he is through his sleep pants, and you know he can feel your heat through your underwear. You press even closer, wanting to feel more of him, and you grind your clothed cunt against him. Just that little friction has his grip tightening and his breath hitching. At the very least, you can be assured that your lover is probably as experienced as you are and will probably last just as long as you if you both keep getting so worked up so easily. You grind forward again, pushing his head into your breast, scraping his blunt tusks against your plush chest as he laps and sucks the soft skin. He suddenly grabs your hips with both hands and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tighter and holding you close with one hand on your back. You look each other in the eyes, you're getting really good at assessing each other's feelings through body language. You don’t need to tell him you want him, and vice versa, you can convey that with your bodies.

He places a hand on your ass and you pull him into a searing kiss as he grinds his hips forward, making both of you moan. He leans on the back of the couch next to the living room table for support. Clearly very sensitive himself, he slowly sinks to the ground, with you in his arms, still keeping you as close to him as possible. Now that he’s sitting on the floor, back against the back of the couch, you have more freedom to move how you want, now actively grinding into each other, searching for the incoming climax.

It feels so good, even through the layers. You can't help but murmur praises at him and he seems to like this very much despite the fact that he can't understand most of it. When you stop your praises to suck in a breath or moan, he whines softly and looks at you with a pleading expression that only melts into pleasure once you start talking again.

It just feels right, not too much too fast and yet the most pleasure you’ve ever felt. You can see him getting closer, hands clutching you tighter, moving you against his bucking hips. When you can feel yourself getting closer, you pull him into a passionate kiss. Your lips fit together so well, and so do your bodies, pressed as close as possible, save for two layers of cloth. You release the kiss only to rasp out his name and the words "I love you" in his mother tongue as you reach your peak. He groans out what you're pretty sure is a swear word of some kind before kissing you so deep you feel your lips might bruise. He kisses you through his shuddering climax, and you stay connected like that well into the come down.

You rest on top of your lover, feeling his heart beat alongside yours. Any attempt to move your lower half sends pain towards your most sensitive parts, having been rubbed raw against your soaking wet underwear. You shift a little and he sucks in a breath, the hand rubbing your back moves to still your hips. As if you needed any more evidence of his enjoyment, his thin sleep pants are absolutely soaked, you're not sure where his wetness ends and yours begins, but you find the sight oddly endearing. You look up at him and grin, he grins back and you both snicker at yourselves. It must be a funny sight, two star-crossed lovers, former lonely wood dwellers, cumming in their pants the first time they get even slightly intimate with each other.

Your lover only releases you from his embrace when you shiver from the cold night air, though not without a few more kisses and whispered endearments. You slowly lift yourself up, stretching and grabbing your nightgown before walking, only wobbling a little, to the kitchen to make you both some well-deserved tea. You can hear your lover trail into the bathroom, probably to get a fresh pair of pants and you know you'll have to do the same when you feel the wetness slowly cooling uncomfortably between your thighs. The stupid grin on your face stays there the entire day, only matched by the equally stupid grin worn by your lover.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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[raffswife]

a hint of you — caleb

warnings written based on the teaser love and deepspace released on youtube, silly mc and caleb, reminiscing childhood

notes CALEB RELEASE TOMORROW WHO'S READY

hmm, i wonder what caleb would like for breakfast this morning… you think to yourself as you pace around the kitchen. ever since he came back, your life has changed. the usual lonely mornings are gone, replaced by waking up with an arm wrapped around your waist. the house feels livelier with caleb around, his voice filling the once-quiet rooms.

as you flip through your recipe books, a hand suddenly traps you between the counter and the person behind you.

“caleb!” you exclaim in shock, snapping the recipe book shut. “you scared me! how long have you been up?” turning to face him, you take in the sight of his messy hair and guess he’s been awake for about ten minutes.

“i woke up when you left the bed this morning,” caleb murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing in your scent. “why are you up so early?”

you laugh. “caleb, it’s nine in the morning. this can’t really be considered early. besides, i have work to do today.” you turn around, reaching up to fix his messy bedhead. “what do you want for breakfast? i usually make eggs and toast, but-”

“anything’s fine,” caleb interrupts. he pauses for a moment, then adds, “you know, i never hear you say you miss me.”

“huh?” you ask, pausing your gentle attempts to tame his hair. “what do you mean? of course i miss you.”

“mm,” caleb hums, frowning slightly. “didn’t seem like it when we first met again.” his eyes flicker between you and the cupboard behind you. reaching over, he plucks a small piece of paper from the wall, his expression amused. “soda recipe: 1.5 ounces of apple syrup. caleb’s favorite type.”

“wait, hey!” you try to grab the paper from him, but caleb backs away, lifting it out of reach. “caleb! give it back!”

caleb laughs. “why? is it that embarrassing that i found your little note reminding you of what i like?”

“n-no, but-” you groan, jumping higher to snatch it. it’s no use. caleb is tall, and he loves using it to his advantage. the height difference always puts him in the lead. “caleb, if you don’t give it back, i’m not making you breakfast!”

“no biggie, pipsqueak,” he teases, using the nickname you absolutely despise (love) now that your relationship has changed. “i can always make my own breakfast.” caleb leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours. “besides… i’m craving something other than your eggs and toast.”

a flush of red spreads across your cheeks as you smack his forearm. “don’t say things like that so early in the morning,” you huff, pretending not to be affected by his words. turning back to your recipe book, you add, “well, if you’re not going to give it back, i guess i’m only making breakfast for one person.”

caleb laughs again, placing the paper back on the counter and wrapping an arm around your waist. “okay, okay! i gave it back. now will you let me eat breakfast with you? i can even help make my signature omelets you love.”

your eyes light up as you turn to face him. “really?! aeal!”

caleb smiles fondly as he lets go of your waist, watching you murmur the recipe for eggs and toast while darting around the kitchen to gather the tools you need.

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[atzloverr]

Stay with us - Wooyoung & Mingi x reader

pairings: Wooyoung’s roommate!Mingi x f!reader, boyfriend!Wooyoung x f!reader

cw: yandere behavior, stalking, kidnapping, bondage, dubious consent, drunk sex, blackmailing, biting, use of Y/n, smut, drugging, manipulation, non-idol au, female reader

You stood outside of your door with your bags in hand, flabbergasted by the thing that just happened. Tonight you came home to all of your things packed up in bags, and a note from your roommate.

Leave or I’ll kill you.

Any other night you would’ve called her and cussed her out, but you couldn’t do this anymore. Maybe it was a great idea to move out after all, leave this shitty roommate and your miserable living conditions behind.

You weren’t even shocked when you found the note, this was just like her. She was simply a mean girl, straight out of the story. You had only lived here for two months, and the first month was great. Your roommate was nice, always asking before bringing people over, respecting you and your boundaries. But after the first month, something about her changed.

She started practically bullying you, not letting you live a second in peace, and always making sure to ruin your day in some way. She made fun of you, made fun of your boyfriend, and the only thing that made you stay was the fact that you couldn’t afford anything else.

You sometimes wondered what made her change. She seemed so unsure of her own words when she first changed. She always paused before delivering a mean comment, but as time passed, she grew more confident. By now, it was as if it went against her nature to not treat you like total garbage.

”Darling? What’s up?” you heard Wooyoung’s voice in your ear. You sat down on the bench at the bus stop, sighing deeply into the phone. ”I got kicked out…” you said. ”What!?” he gasped. You just hummed a yes. You were so ashamed to ask Wooyoung to stay at his place, but you didn’t have a choice. Wooyoung lived with his roommate Mingi in a small flat, and you just hated to take up space in their home.

”Oh my god, baby,” Wooyoung gasped into the phone. ”Come to my place!” he said with excitement. You smiled with confusion and took a deep breath. ”Wooyoung, I’m so sorry for intruding, you know I hate—”, ”Baby no!” he interrupted. ”I love it when you come over, even if you’ll stay longer than usual.”

You bit your lip in thought. ”What about Mingi? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” you asked nervously. ”Of course he will!” Wooyoung almost laughed into the phone. ”Can you ask him?” you suggested before hearing footsteps.

”Mingi?” you heard him yell. ”Y/n can stay here for a while, right?” you heard Mingi’s faint voice in the background, but you couldn’t make out what he said. You held your breath. ”See, I knew he would agree!”

You sighed. ”Did you really give him a chance to say no? Maybe he didn’t feel like he had a choice?” you stressed, hearing Wooyoung’s airy laugh in your ear. ”Stop worrying okay? I swear he’s fine with it, hell, if I know him he’ll probably love having you over!”

You answered with a quiet ’mm’ before standing up to get on the bus. ”My bus is here, I gotta go.”, ”Alright! See you soon baby!”

————

”Promise me you’ll behave now that she’s going to live here, kay?” Wooyoung smiled, looking up at Mingi’s smug grin. It was safe to say that your boyfriend’s roommate was more than happy when you called Wooyoung. ”I’ll be good, you should probably be asking her that question, y’know?” Mingi teased. Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in question. ”We’ll see how well your little baby will be able to control herself around me.”

Wooyoung laughed a hearty laugh and was about to respond with a cocky remark when the doorbell rang. ”I’ll go get that,” Mingi sang, his long legs moving towards the door, not letting your boyfriend catch up.

You watched the door open, and when you saw the tall man, your jaw dropped ever so slightly, but just enough for Mingi to notice it. ”Hey, Y/n,” he said melodically before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You gasped at his unusual closeness, but smiled when you heard your boyfriend’s sweet voice.

”That’s enough,” he patted Mingi’s shoulder, making him laugh before letting you go. ”There’s my baby,” Wooyoung said with a pout before you ran into his arms. You almost started like tearing up when you felt his hands roaming your body lovingly. ”Welcome home,” he giggled, making you laugh. You let go of him, turning around to speak to Mingi.

”I’m so sorry for intruding you guys’ place like this I— I swear I’ll start looking for a new place immediately and—”

”Hush now, sweetheart,” Mingi smirked, interrupting your rambling. You had always found his vocabulary with you odd. The way he spoke to you as if you had known each other for much longer than you actually had, almost as if you were dating. ”You can stay here for as long as you need.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

You had only stayed at Wooyoung’s place for about a week when you started noticing his and Mingi’s odd behavior. The exchanged looks, the sentences you couldn’t help but question mentally and of course, Mingi’s eyes. His eyes always seemed to be on you, no matter the situation. Hid gaze so piercing, his eyes seeming to follow you as you walked around, always dripping with what you would guess to be lust.

”Y/n? Love?” Wooyoung said, snapping his fingers to regain your attention. You snapped out of your thoughts, smiling at him. ”I asked what you wanted to get? We’re planning on eating takeout tonight!” Wooyoung winked. You smiled and thought. ”I’ll just have the same as last time, I don’t remember the name—”, ”Got it!” Mingi said from across the room, writing it down on his phone. You blinked.

Yet another thing that was odd about Mingi. He seemed to remember every small detail about you. Every little thing you said, all of your habits, what food you liked, even how long you used to shower.

”Longer than usual today,” he said as you exited the bathroom. ”Excuse me?” you smiled in confusion. ”You showered for thirty minutes today, that’s longer than usual,” Mingi stated. You didn’t know how to answer him. ”Just saying!” he put his hands in the air at your lack of an answer. ”O-okay,” you meekly answered.

”And baby,” Wooyoung said, regaining your attention once again. ”We’ve got beer, shots, wine, whatever you want!” You smiled. ”It’s been so long since we got really drunk together! I miss those nights we used to spend together, drinking until we could barely walk straight!” Wooyoung said, reminiscing about old memories.

The day went by smoothly, and suddenly, it was dinner time. You always loved nights like these with your boyfriend, ordering takeout and drinking. Only now would you be accompanied by his roommate. While you did enjoy Mingi’s company, you couldn’t ignore his creepy behavior.

Your smiled when you heard a whistle from the corridor as you tried on your long dress for the night. You turned around to greet your boyfriend, but your smile dropped when you saw the man standing in the doorway. Mingi.

”Why the long face, darling? Just because I’m not your boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t find you hot,” he smirked. You blinked, putting on a small smile despite your discomfort. Darling. That’s what he had called you. The only person you were comfortable with calling you that was Wooyoung, your boyfriend, not his creepy (but hot) roommate.

”Food’s here by the way,” Mingi stated before leaving the room. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You weren’t comfortable with this, so why were your cheeks turning red? Why did you feel butterflies in your stomach when you saw Mingi in that tight shirt, showing his toned body?

”Baby!” Wooyoung entered the room, snaking his hands around your waist from behind. ”You look so cute,” he said into your neck, placing a small kiss where your shoulder met your neck.

”Hey Wooyoung,” you sighed, gathering the courage to say what you were about to say. ”I feel a little… I don’t know uncomfortable?” you started, making his eyebrows furrow in worry. ”With what? The dress?” he asked. Your lips pressed into a thin line. You got ready to speak again, when a knock interrupted you. ”It’s dinner time, lovebirds,” Mingi said. Your head turned to meet his gaze, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes only looked at you. Not at Wooyoung, just at you.

”Alright,” Wooyoung smiled, turning you around to walk out of the room. ”Looks like you’ll have to save what you were going to say for later.” You swallowed, hesitantly letting Wooyounglead you to the table, mentally preparing for the night you were about to spend with your lovely boyfriend and his roommate that you just couldn’t seem to read.

You gasped in excitement at the food plated out on the table. ”Yum!” you let out squeezing Wooyoung’s hand. He smiled at your reaction, pulling out a chair before sitting down on the one next to it. Your smile dropped slightly when Mingi sat down by the small and round table, feeling his knee brush against yours for a split second.

”Let’s eat!” Wooyoung clapped, keeping his wide smile on his lips. He always succeeded to cheer you up when you felt a little down. Mingi started playing some music in the loud speakers as you and Wooyoung started eating the delicious food.

Before you knew it, the three of you had had perhaps just a little too much to drink, starting to slur your words and loudly sing along to the music in the speakers. Wooyoung was clinging to you like never before, his mouth attached to your neck and hands roaming your body. ”Woo, stop it,” you whined with a grin on your face. You both knew you didn’t mean it, your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him closer.

You had almost forgotten that Mingi was there, watching everything unfold. But getting drunk was exactly what you needed. You didn’t think about Mingi’s stares, his lingering touches or the fact that your body reacted to him in a way that you couldn’t admit to yourself.

”Wanna move to the couch?” Mingi said, catching your and Wooyoung’s attention. ”Yes please!” Wooyoung sang, standing up to walk over there. You happened to sit in a corner, so it took you a minute to get out of your seat, the moment Mingi had been waiting for.

”Think I haven’t noticed?” Mingi whispered, suddenly standing right in front of you. In your drunken state, you didn’t fear him, you didn’t feel as intimidated. ”Noticed what?” you challenged, looking him right in the eye, drawing out a wide-eyed smirk from him.

”The way you feel about me,” he said, his hand meeting the back of your waist. You gasped when he pulled you towards him. ”I can see the way you react,” he whispered. ”The way your body reacts.”

You blinked, wondering if these words were really coming out of his mouth. ”I bet you’re really turned on right now, aren’t you?” he smirked, and that’s when you decided that you had had enough of this. You pushed him away from you and stormed off to the living room, where Wooyoung lay sprawled out on the couch, clearly about to fall asleep.

You sat him up and immediately took a seat next to him, basically gluing your body to his. ”Baby, I missed you,” he whined, body inching even closer to yours. You watched as Mingi entered the room, his gaze plastered on you. You shrunk slightly at the attention.

”Sorry, your girlfriend had some trouble getting out of her seat,” Mingi lied. You swallowed, wondering if you should speak up or not. ”Thank you for helping her,” Wooyoung smiled. You rolled your eyes, and before you could have a say in the matter, Mingi sunk down by your other side, maybe even sitting closer than Wooyoung was.

You held your breath, feeling Mingi’s warm skin press against yours as Wooyoung buried his face in your neck. You couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping your lips when Wooyoung bit you lightly on your neck, and right as he did so, Mingi’s big hand landed on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

You looked at Wooyoung, but your boyfriend’s eyes were closed. What would he think if he opened his eyes to see Mingi’s hands on you? If he found out that that whimper wasn’t just because of him, but also because of his roommate?

You glared at Mingi, who just smiled innocently. His hand travelled further up your thigh as he held eye contact with you, and you put your hand over his in a weak attempt to stop him, but you barely even tried. Because deep inside, you knew you were attracted to him, and he seemed to know it as well.

You hated this feeling, because you truly loved your boyfriend. He was your everything, your best friend and your one true love. And the fact that Mingi could see right through you, was enough to make you fear him.

His hand rested incredibly close to where you ached it to be, but begged for it to not be. ”You like this baby?” Mingi whispered into your ear. Your eyes widened, your head turning towards Wooyoung immediately, but he didn’t react. He must’ve not heard it. ”I know you do” Mingi’s lips touched your ear, making you squirm.

”Mingi?” Wooyoung said suddenly, making you freeze in anticipation. ”Yeah?” said man answered, tone very cool considering what he was currently doing with his friend’s girlfriend. ”Can you pass me my phone?”

You were so confused. How on earth didn’t he notice anything? Sure, he was drunk, but still!?

”I wanna go to bed honey,” Wooyoung finally said, making you sigh in relief. As Wooyoung stood up, Mingi’s hand immediately left your thigh. Your boyfriend went over to him, to give him a hug. ”Goodnight Mingi,” he said. ”Sleep tight,” said man replied, looking at you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

”Baby, right there please,” Wooyoung moaned out as your lips closed around his length. It seemed he didn’t actually mean going to sleep when he wanted to ’go to bed’, but you weren’t complaining. ”Wait no,” he whimpered, grabbing your head to stop you. ”Don’t wanna come yet, baby,” he smiled, hands patting your head gently.

You raised your head from between his legs, meeting his lustful eyes. ”Can I fuck you? Please I’m so—”, ”Yes you can,” you nodded before he could finish his sentence. He almost ripped off your dress when he heard those words, oozing with excitement.

”I wanna taste you first though,” he smirked, not preparing you further before shoving his face between your legs. You moaned loudly when you felt his skillful tongue on you. Everything felt so good when you were drunk. You were both dripping with pleasure, not being able to hold yourselves back. ”So wet, baby,” he hummed. ”How did you manage to get like this, hm?” Wooyoung asked before continuing to pleasure you.

Your eyes widened at the question. Mingi had been right. You were turned on by him, and it made you hate yourself. You wanted to cry from how bad you felt, and decided to just hum as an answer. You felt your orgasm approaching you, but Wooyoung soon stopped, biting his lips and getting ready to fuck you.

”Ready baby?” he almost breathed out, making you nod enthusiastically. When he finally entered you, you felt as if you could come right away. You moaned his name as he thrusted into you at a rapid pace.

”Shit, I might come already, I’m sorry,” Wooyoung rambled while letting his hips slow down slightly. ”It’s okay baby, I will too,” you assured him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He fastened his pace at those words, making the two of you approach your orgasms quickly.

Wooyoung’s loud moans filled the room, and so did yours as he finally finished inside of you. You were both breathless, sweaty and absolutely exhausted. The alcohol only made you more tired.

”I might fall asleep,” he informed, making you let out a tired giggle. ”Me too, don’t worry.”

Just as you were about to close your eyes, you spotted a tall figure standing in the doorway. You rubbed your eyes, not wanting to believe what you had just seen, and when you looked again, there was no one there. Had you really begun hallucinating now too? You wanted to barf at the thought of how much power Mingi had over you. He knew your innermost desires, didn’t hesitate before breaking boundaries and made you question yourself like never before.

You fell asleep, and that night, you dreamt of Mingi. You dreamt of him touching you, him having his way with you, and even though your mind was so against the idea, your body seemed to crave it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

You used Wooyoung’s soft shirt to wipe your tears away as you sniffled into his shoulder. He looked down at you sympathetically before looking at the TV once again. ”I can’t believe he just left her like that!” you cried, watching the end credits roll after the fourth movie of the night.

Somehow, both you, Wooyoung and Mingi had all ended up with the flu. The three of you had spent the last few days cuddled up on the couch, binge-watching movies and TV-shows while coughing and sniffling.

You hadn’t spoken to Mingi about that night yet, because honestly, you didn’t know what to say. For these few days, he had actually been nice for the most part. He had kept his distance, and reminded you why you used to enjoy his company so much.

His funny and charming demeanor was back, and everything felt just right, well, except for one little thing.

Your things were disappearing. It started with your favorite skirt. You basically turned Wooyoung’s room upside down when looking for it. You ran out of the room, hurriedly asking if any of the guys had seen it, to which they both shrugged their shoulders.

Then, it was your underwear, then your hairbrush. You searched Wooyoung’s face to see any signs of a lie, but he really looked clueless when you asked about your favorite black pair of panties. He loved to play pranks on you, but why on earth would he do this?

Aside from that little detail, everything was going great. Maybe he had stopped doing it, or maybe you had just started to get used to Mingi’s piercing gaze, you honestly didn’t know.

”It’s getting late,” Mingi stated, getting up from the couch. ”Hey,” you stopped him from leaving. ”Can I just borrow your phone for a second? I need to look up one of the actors,” you asked, reaching out your hand.

You couldn’t read Mingi’s face, and you couldn’t understand why he looked at Wooyoung in such a panicked matter. ”Hello?” you asked, keeping your hand outstretched.

”Don’t you have your own?” Mingi smirked, continuing to walk away from you. ”Don’t be a dick, it’s not here,” you yelled as he walked away. ”Just let me search it up!” you whined.

Mingi came back a second later, you phone in hand. ”Here you go, princess,” he smiled making you roll your eyes at the nickname. ”I didn’t ask you to get it,” you muttered before opening up your phone.

Later that night, when you lay in bed next to Wooyoung, you thought about that moment. Why couldn’t he just give you his phone? Was he just really private? Or was he just this secretive with you? You had seen Wooyoung use Mingi’s phone, so why was it different with you?

A few days later, you showed Wooyoung the apartments that you were thinking about moving into. You had a few alternatives, each one having their own strengths and weaknesses. ”This one’s in good condition, but it’s a bit pricey…” you said with a slight pout, furrowing your eyebrows.

”And this one’s really small, but it looks cute, right?” you looked over at Wooyoung, who looked deep in thought. ”What?” you asked, seeing his small frown.

”Do you really think that this is necessary?” he asked, making you pause. ”What do you mean?” you questioned.

”Well, you could just stay here…” he said quietly, eyes glued the floor. You tried to find words, but didn’t really know what to reply. His hands held yours, caressing them slowly. ”I feel like I love you more and more for every moment we spend together and—” Wooyoung’s voice was almost shaky, filled with emotion. ”I want you to stay with me here, okay?” he proposed.

You pressed your lips into a line, meeting Ten’s gaze as he lifted it from the floor. ”I—I don’t,” you tried to find your words. ”Listen, I would love to move in with you too,” you said, making Wooyoung’s eyes light up, a smile already starting to coat his lips. ”B—But, it feels different like this. Y’know, with Mingi and everything—”

”Oh don’t worry about him, he really won’t mind!” he tried to reassure you. You avoided his gaze. ”But what if—” you stammered. ”What if I mind?”

There was a pause, a loud silence that filled the air between you. ”What I mean is just—”, ”You don’t like him? Did he do anything to upset you? Did he hurt you baby?” Wooyoung stressed, worry lacing his tone. ”No, it’s just that he.. well we,” you sighed. ”It just feels weird for me to keep staying here, and whether you agree with me or not, I still feel like I’m intruding,” you said. Maybe that wasn’t the only reason, but there was no need for Wooyoung to know that.

He was about to protest, but you spoke first. ”I really want to find a new place, and I’ll gladly have you move with me if that’s what you want, but I know you love living here with Mingi.”

You watched his expression slowly contort into a large frown, his bottom lip starting to loll out. He took a shaky breath before finally giving you a reply. ”I get it baby,” Wooyoung sighed. ”But can you just think about it for a moment? You can pause your apartment hunting for now, and just consider staying, right?”

His eyes were glimmering with hope, making you feel like a villain for even thinking about denying him. ”…Okay,” you finally said, to which Wooyoung squealed in excitement, squeezing your hands tightly in his. ”I knew I would be able to change your mind!” he smiled. You smiled, but when he wrapped his arms around you, your smile completely dropped.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

When you had finally managed to get rid of the flu that had haunted you for two miserable weeks, you decided that you wanted to celebrate it by going out with some of your friends.

It had been way too long since you went to the club, even since you met your friend group. Your best friend squeaked in excitement when you called her and asked if she was up for a night out.

You hummed happily while applying your makeup, finally feeling really pretty again after being sick for such a long time. You heard the sound of Wooyoung and Mingi’s voices as they entered the apartment, having gone shopping for the last few hours.

With how much money Mingi seemed to have, you never really understood why he chose to live in this small flat with your boyfriend. Wooyoung always told you about how Mingi always payed for their food, how he suggested going on luxurious trips, and how the man seemed to have an unlimited supply of money.

Maybe their years-long friendship is what kept them together, even in such a small place.

”Baby? What are you doing?” Wooyoung asked with a smile on his face, but a hint of worry in his tone. ”I’m getting ready! I’m going out with the girls tonight!” you said in excitement, going up to give him a hug.

”Oh, okay,” he replied, voice void of emotion. You backed away from him, eyebrows furrowed. ”Why? What’s up?” you asked. ”No, it’s just..” he avoided your gaze. ”Can’t you stay here tonight? We were thinking of having dinner together,” he pouted. Your mouth opened slightly.

”I’m sorry, but I’ve already made plans with them,” you said, your hand meeting the back of his head. ”You know it’s been a while since i hung out with them.”

Wooyoung almost looked angry, his gaze still refusing to meet yours. ”Have I done something to upset you or something?” he asked. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. ”What? No, why would you think that?”

He cleared his throat. ”It’s like you don’t want to spend time with me anymore,” he spat. ”First the apartment now this…”

You huffed at his words. ”I’ve basically been with you every second of every day for this past month?” you said, letting go of him. For the first time, he looked at you, and you couldn’t help but feel bad.

”You love me, right?” he asked, hands raising to meet your shoulders. You blinked, not understanding hid thought process at all. ”Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t spend time with my friends as well,” you stated.

Wooyoung came closer to you, holding you in a tight embrace. ”I’m sorry baby,” he sniffled. ”I just don’t want to lose you, that’s all.”

You swallowed, feeling his arms almost crush you. ”Of course you won’t,” you reassured. You would’ve probably understood his motives more if you saw the satisfied smirk on his face as you uttered those words.

”Thank you baby,” he said, leaving a small kiss on your neck before letting you go. ”I’ll go help Mingi with the groceries,” he said before leaving the room, and also leaving you almsot speechless. What on earth was that?

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself in such a stressful state, trying to find the dress that you had mentally picked out for tonight. You stood on chairs to look where you couldn’t reach, searched every single corner of the room, got on all fours to search under all of the furniture, and of course, that’s how Mingi found you.

”Oh,” he said when he found you, digging under the bed to find it. You turned around in shame, immediately standing up. A thing to take into consideration, was that you were only in your underwear. ”I don’t have time for this,” you sighed before closing the door in his face.

You quickly put on a robe to cover yourself before opening the door, meeting Mingi again, who was stuck in the same spot you found him in. ”What?” you said, seeing the teasing look in his eye.

”Nothing,” he said, starting to walk away. ”It’s just not everyday that you find a prudish girl like you in such a state,” he said in the distance, making you run after him.

”Shut up, you! At least I’m not a slut like you!” you pointed at him, making him raise his eyebrows in amusement. ”You know what, you’re probably the one responsible for all of these disappearing clothes!” you said, darting towards his room. You missed the way his smile dropped before his long legs followed you.

You threw the door open, entering the dark and messy room. You had never seen Mingi’s room before. You always followed the ’DO NOT ENTER’ sign on it, but today was a different day.

You turned on the light, scanning the room for any of your things, but only saw his own huge supply of clothes coating the floor. ”Y/n,” Mingi warned when you walked towards his closet.

His legs scrambled towards you in a matter of seconds, his voice yelling your name again, but this time, in such an alarming way that you actually believed something was seriously wrong.

But it seemed he was just a second too late, because when he stood behind you, you had already opened the closet door to see what was inside.

You stared into it in silence, your jaw having dropped ever so slightly.

There they were. All of your lost things, maybe even more than you knew you had lost. Underwear, trash you threw away, makeup products, and the thing that made you feel instantly sick: pictures.

A pile of pictures, either printed or polaroids, and they were all of you. Pictures of you in your old apartment, pictures of you when you were younger, pictures of you and Wooyoung, pictures of you when you were asleep.

You flinched when Mingi harshly slammed the door closed from behind you. His arm caged you in between him and the door, and you didn’t dare to turn around. You heard his heavy breathing, you felt his hot breath against your neck, and worst of all, you could feel him against you. His erection against your body, as he inched closer. You felt your instincts take over.

”Wooyoung!—”, ”Shut up,” Mingi put his big hand over your mouth, making you squirm even more in the tight space between him and the closet door. ”Stop squirming,” Mingi warned, making you hold your breath.

His hand slowly left your mouth, causing a small whimper of fear to be heard from your now parted lips. Mingi turned you around, making you face him. He leaned down until you could feel his breath fan your face. He still wore that same smirk that he more almost all the time, but his eyes had this newfound glow, this unknown width and fire. It made you fear him even more.

”Please, I promise I won’t tell Wooyoung if you just—” you started, before Mingi hushed you, his eyes closing shut. You gasped when he crouched down, positioning himself to pick you up. ”No, please—”, ”I said shut up.”

Your breathing quickened when he walked over to the bedroom door, still with you in his arms. You watched as he shut the door carefully, twisting the lock before walking over to his bed.

He dropped you down rather harshly, positioning himself right on top of you. As if trying to make yourself small, your body scrunched up, arms caging themselves around your form.

”Don’t hide from me baby,” Mingi said in a giggle, his strong hands pinning yours above your head. ”I’ve already seen everything.”

You shivered, eyes avoiding his. You could feel yourself starting to tear up, to which Mingi’s fingers wiped your eyes. ”I might’ve even seen more than your precious Wooyoung,” he smiled menacingly. ”And you’ve had no idea this whole time.”

You clenched your eyes shut, not even wanting to adress that the situation was actually happening. ”He’ll never forgive you,” you spat, finally looking into his eyes. ”Aww, you think so, huh?” he said with faux concern. Your wide eyes following his head as he leaned down, growing wider for every inch closer he came towards you.

You squealed when his lips met your neck, your hands meeting his shoulders, slightly pushing him away. ”Mingi—”, ”Don’t lie,” he interrupted once again, making you blink in confusion.

”Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this,” he smiled, his kisses traveling further and further down your neck. His hand moved your silk robe to the side, revealing your shoulders. ”I know you do.” You gasped when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your now exposed shoulder.

”I’d bet you’re so turned on right now,” he whispered. You squirmed, a newfound energy making you fight back finally. You pushed him off, sitting up to get away from him. It wasn’t long until he wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you back down into the bed with him.

”Please, just let me go out with my friends tonight, I won’t tell him—” you stopped yourself this time, realizing how weak you sounded. How utterly pitiful and pathetic your tone rang in your ears. ”You really don’t understand, do you?” Mingi said in amusement.

He stood up, unlocking and opening the door. You watched as he pointed towards the open door with his hand. ”Why don’t you go ahead and tell Wooyoung, hm?” Mingi said, waiting for you do dart towards the door, which you did a second later.

You ran to the kitchen, looking back at Mingi, who slowly exited his room, his arms crossed and a look in his eye that you could only describe as evil.

You found Wooyoung in the kitchen, preparing dinner for him and Mingi. ”Hey babe—woah,” his eyes widened when he saw your panicked and disheveled state, the thin robe almost falling off of your body.

”What’s going on?” he asked with urgency. ”It’s Mingi, he— he—” your breath caught in your throat, the panic catching up to you. You looked back, seeing Mingi enter the kitchen with slow steps, looking deep into not your eyes, but Wooyoung’s. You looked back at Wooyoung, wrapping your arms around him as if it would keep you safe from the man behind you. Wooyoung smirked without you seeing it, his eyes still stuck on Mingi’s.

”What’s wrong baby?” he asked, rubbing your back soothingly. You sniffled into his shoulder, and finally felt your shoulders starting to relax at Wooyoung’s next words. ”Mingi, why don’t you leave us for a minute?”

You heard the tall man’s footsteps slowly fade away, making your fear dial down just a tiny bit. Wooyoung sat you down by the table, his warm hands slowly leaving your shoulders. ”I’ll get you a glass of water,” he stated. ”Tell me what happened.”

You took a deep breath. ”I was just looking for my dress for tonight, oh shoot— I almost forgot that I’m going out,” you looked around, searching for a clock somewhere. Finally finding one, you realized that you were going to be late. ”Shit, I have to—”, ”No, shh baby,” Wooyoung came back with your water. ”I’m sure they’ll be fine with you being a little late,” he reassured you, pulling out a chair to sit down next to you.

You sighed, taking a big sip of water. ”Anyway I entered Mingi’s room, and well— In his closet,” your voice was shaky, brimming with fear. Wooyoung pushed the glass towards you, to which you took another big sip. ”Woo, I found my things, and— and I found pictures and—”, ”Shh, shh,” he hushed you, inching closer to you and placing his warm hand on the backside of your neck, rubbing soothing circles into it.

”Let’s just calm down,” Wooyoung said. Your looked at him, blinking in confusion. ”You’re really worked up right now, and—”, ”Of course I’m worked up! Do you have any idea of how scared I was—”

”Calm down, please.” Wooyoung interrupted, his grip on your neck tightening ever so slightly. ”Have some more water, and then we can talk about this.”

You were about to question him, but finally obeyed his wish, finishing the glass. ”Do you want to go to my room instead?” Wooyoung asked and you immediately nodded, following him into the room with hurried steps, but as soon as you were on your feet, you felt an odd sensation. Your vision was slightly blurry, but you figured it was nothing.

When you were finally positioned on Wooyoung’s bed, you noticed how the moments you experienced seemed to blur together. You blinked, trying to gather your senses.

”Baby? You alright?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you once again. You felt your eyelids starting to close together, small whines escaping your lips in confusion. ”Let’s lie down,” you heard Wooyoung’s voice, but as if in the distance. The last thing you saw before you finally lost consciousness was the sight of Mingi standing in the doorway, just like you imagined that night you had prayed to forget.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

”I can’t believe you’re such an idiot,” Wooyoung laughed, resting his head in Mingi’s lap. Mingi’s fingers slowly ran through your boyfriend’s dark locks. ”Oh come on, we were going to do this sooner or later,” Mingi argued, eyes lingering on Wooyoung’s.

You heard the two’s voices, but it was as if you couldn’t grasp reality. You couldn’t fully reach your senses quite yet, you could just hear and feel slight sensations, but not enough to know if you were truly awake.

”Imagine her cute little face when she sees that you’re responsible for this,” Mingi said, interrupted by his own giggles. ”Turns out her sweet little boyfriend wasn’t so sweet after all.”

Right after Mingi uttered those words, Wooyoung seemed to pick up on something, his head twisting around towards you. He slowly crawled towards where you lay on the floor. ”Baby?” he smiled, hand meeting your cold cheek.

Your eyes slowly opened up, laying themselves on Wooyoung’s wide smile, his anticipating eyes. As your senses came back, you noticed something rough against your skin, slithered around your legs and arms.

You let out a small involuntary moan of discomfort, eyes searching the room. You saw the thick rope around your body, and you felt as if your heart stopped.

”She awake?” a voice said from behind Wooyoung - who was carefully examined your face. ”Mm-hmm, but still a little confused,” Wooyoung said, his smile creeping back onto his face. ”How are you feeling baby?” he said, both thumbs stroking your cheeks.

You tried to speak, but couldn’t utter a single word. ”Hmm, not quite aware yet,” he frowned, backing away from you. Who now entered your field of view made your eyes go wide instantly.

You grew more confused by the second, but also more aware. The slow realization that was happening inside your brain made your heartbeat quicken, as you started struggling in your restraints.

”None of that,” Mingi said, making your head snap towards him.

”What’s going on?” you finally managed to say, now that you were almost completely aware. The two men looked at each other for a second, before Mingi nodded towards your boyfriend.

”Don’t be scared baby, everything’s just fine, okay?” Wooyoung said, coming closer to you again. ”We just thought that you might need some safety precautions,” he said, as if that would clear anything up for you. ”Why am I tied up!?”

Wooyoung took a deep breath. ”We didn’t want you to get scared and try to run off, okay?” he said, trying to grab your face again, to which you immediately flinched from his touch.

”Baby, just listen okay?” you heard Mingi. You almost gasped at his familiarity, when you started to remember the events that occurred before this.

”You creep!” you spat out at Mingi, seeing that annoyingly amused face on him. ”How dare you? What about my poor feelings?” Mingi made fun of you, a childish pout on his lips.

”You’re a stalker!” you said, ”and you!” you directed towards Wooyoung, tears starting to seep out of your eyes. ”You don’t even care?” your volume lowered for every word you said. You couldn’t even keep his eyes opened any more, not wanting to look either of them in the face.

”Listen baby—” Wooyoung tried, but you immediately shut him down. ”Let me go.”

The silence that followed gave you the answer you had been expecting. ”You don’t have to pretend anymore, baby,” Wooyoung said lowly. ”I know you’ve been into Mingi for a while now,” you opened your mouth in disbelief.

”Oh, come on,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully. ”I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he inched closer. ”The way you react when he looks at you.”

”That’s not true—” you said, voice cracking as tears continued to flow down your face. Wooyoung’s fingers wiped them away as he hummed. ”Then why haven’t you told me about how he’s been acting?”

Your eyes shot open again. ”Why haven’t you told me about that night when he touched you like that? When he looked at you like that?” Wooyoung’s breath fanned your face, his lips almost touching yours as he spoke. As much as you tried to inch away from him, his strong hand holding your head in place made it impossible.

”It’s okay to be attracted to him,” he smiled. ”But pretending that you don’t, is not.”

You gasped when Wooyoung’s lips crashed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth without your consent. When he finally disconnected from you, his face wore an unreadable expression.

”What’s the point of lying anymore, hm? Why don’t we all share our little secrets?” Mingi proposed, standing up, making Wooyoung turn his head before also raising to stand.

You watched as Wooyoung’s arms snaked around Mingi’s waist from behind him. ”You think it’s a coincidence that you had to move? Have you ever really thought about why your roommate started acting like that out of the blue?” Mingi asked. Wooyoung laughed into Mingi’s shoulder.

You took your eyes off of the two, slowly shaking your head as you started to realize what he was implying. ”That’s right,” Wooyoung sang. ”Think it was just a coincidence that you just had to move out so suddenly?” Mingi mocked. ”If it weren’t for Mingi and his incredible blackmailing abilities, you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Wooyoung informed.

You felt yourself starting to hyperventilate, the information crashing down on you. ”No,” you sobbed.

”Oh yes,” Mingi said, crouching down to look you in the eyes. ”We both love you, and we would never let anything get in the way of that.”

”Let me go!” you thrashed around in the rope, feeling them burn and tighten against your skin, but you didn’t care. ”Please,” you begged, feeling Mingi come closer and closer to you until he was eventually on top of you on all fours.

”Now you’re all ours baby,” Mingi said with satisfaction, tilting his head to the side before leaning in and whispering. ”And we’ll never let you go.”

a/n: I’VE HEARD YOUR PRAYERS! And yes this was originally a Ten and Johnny x reader fic, but I hope you enjoy this instead!!! Tell me if you want a part two, and thank you all for your support!! I always appreciate your asks/comments!

masterlist

[hoonieyun]

this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡

days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+

hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you. 

were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this? 

was it worth it to lose the person you love? 

you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right. 

why were you being so annoying?

but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.

were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard? 

if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own? 

why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…

you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it. 

so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things. 

“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands. 

both of you knew the answer to that. 

“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee… 

i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized… 

why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me? 

for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself. 

heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you. 

we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung. 

“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can. 

“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us? 

are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all. 

“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling. 

“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight? 

hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you. 

i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain. 

“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions. 

“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”

“bye, heeseung.”

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore. 

so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you? 

he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good. 

“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left. 

“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you. 

you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now. 

i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it. 

he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise. 

jay wished that he did keep his promise to you. 

when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night. 

but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party. 

you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them. 

you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right? 

“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters. 

“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you. 

i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it. 

i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late. 

“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.

“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile. 

“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.

it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right? 

you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you. 

you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did. 

it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you. 

but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone. 

“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 

“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged. 

“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him. 

“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him. 

jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong. 

“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way. 

jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing. 

that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag. 

“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back. 

needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back. 

you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved. 

not then, not now, and not ever.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you. 

he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon. 

sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion. 

was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you? 

sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you. 

in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you. 

“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there. 

“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-

look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad. 

i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself. 

i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever. 

you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became. 

you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing. 

“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way… 

because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you. 

sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me. 

i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-

i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve. 

and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face. 

“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day. 

sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life. 

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[thedensworld]

Something Between Us | H.Js

Genre: angst, arranged marriage, exes au!

Summary: An old couple meet again, with the same feeling inside their chest. What's something between them still left?

Author note: i dedicate this story for all of my plot twist lover. Here's for you guys. With love and— of course, so much care🤍

Joshua held his cup of coffee, feeling its warmth seep into his hands as he waited for you to arrive. Nervous? Of course, he was. It had been three long years since the two of you had seen each other. In all that time, there had been no reason or opportunity for your paths to cross. But today, after meticulous planning and endless back-and-forth between your secretaries, the two of you were about to meet again—this time as business partners.

Joshua had always been skeptical about arranged marriages. His parents' marriage had crumbled when he was just ten years old, and his father had remarried only two years later. His mother eventually found the love of her life in her fifties, but not before enduring two failed marriages. Joshua himself had experienced a failed arranged marriage—with you, three years ago. So, when his friends claimed they were happy in their arranged marriages, he couldn’t help but doubt them.

He had once said the same thing during the first year of your marriage.

As you walked toward him, Joshua couldn’t help but notice how much your hair had grown since the last time he saw you. You had always preferred muted tones, but today you wore a baby blue work attire that caught him off guard. Rising from his seat, Joshua offered you a professional handshake before motioning for you to sit across from him. Your secretaries took their seats beside you both, their awkward silence adding to the already tense atmosphere in the room.

Today's meeting was supposed to be strictly business. After your father passed away a few months ago, you had surprised Joshua by sending a proposal to rekindle the business relationship that had been severed when the two of you went your separate ways three years ago. He was genuinely shocked. He never imagined that the Ji family would reach out to him first, especially given that your families had also "divorced" in a sense when you did.

"I’ve gone through the proposal you sent. It’s clear there’s still potential between our companies, but a lot has changed in the past three years.”

You nodded, your expression unreadable. “Yes, quite a lot has changed,” you agreed. “The industry has evolved, and so have our respective companies. That’s precisely why I believe it’s important for us to explore a new collaboration.”

Joshua studied you carefully, his mind racing. Your brother Seungcheol was the rightful successor, the one running the family business now. There was no logical reason for you to involve yourself—especially after being away from the business world since your divorce. Why would you suddenly want to rekindle this partnership? Was this truly about the companies, or was there something more you weren’t saying?

“Your brother,” Joshua began cautiously, “is more than capable of handling the business. I’m curious why you felt the need to personally reach out to me, given that Seungcheol is the one at the helm now.”

You met his gaze, your eyes steady. “Seungcheol is indeed in charge, and he’s doing an excellent job. But there are some things only I can handle, and this partnership is one of them. I know the history, the nuances between our companies. There’s unfinished business here, Joshua. You and I both know that.”

Joshua couldn’t deny the truth in your words, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface. “And you think you can just step back in and pick up where we left off?” he asked, skepticism lacing his tone. “You’ve been out of the industry for three years. A lot has changed—not just in business, but in the way we operate, the strategies we use. Do you really think you can bring the same value you once did?”

A faint smile played on your lips. “I may have been away, but I’ve kept my eyes open. I’m well aware of the changes and the new dynamics at play. But this isn’t just about proving my worth, Joshua. It’s about leveraging the strengths of both our companies for mutual benefit. We have something unique—a history, a shared vision, even if it was derailed for a while.”

Joshua leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you thoughtfully. “And what exactly are you offering? What do you bring to the table that your brother or anyone else in your company can’t?”

You took a deep breath before answering, your voice firm. “What I bring is a perspective that no one else has. I understand the intricacies of both our businesses, and I know what was lost when we parted ways. I also know how to regain that edge. This isn’t just about merging resources or expanding markets. It’s about restoring what was once a strong alliance—something that could be stronger than ever if we approach it the right way.”

Joshua could sense the conviction in your voice, but he also sensed something else—a personal stake that went beyond business. You weren’t just here to broker a deal; there was something deeper driving you, something you weren’t ready to reveal just yet. But for now, he played along, curious to see where this would lead.

*

Seungkwan, Joshua's dedicated secretary, arrived at ten o'clock at night with a box of Joshua's old files from his parents' house, driven by an urgent matter. The contents were from a pivotal time in Joshua's life—the period when his business had merged with his ex-partner's company.

Joshua had been immersed in the business world since his college days, with a particular passion for coffee beans. His grandfather, recognizing his potential, gifted young Joshua a piece of land to cultivate and manage. After years of gaining valuable experience, Joshua made the bold decision to take over his family’s business—a company specializing in the distribution of fresh food sources. His natural talent for business didn’t go unnoticed; your father, who was well-acquainted with Joshua's grandfather, saw a promising match between you and Joshua.

Your family’s legacy in the industry stretches back further than Joshua’s, with a focus on real estate—hotels, buildings, and shopping malls. In fact, Joshua’s grandfather had once worked for your family before establishing his own empire. Over the years, Joshua's family business became a key supplier of fresh food for your family's hotels, creating a longstanding partnership between the two enterprises.

What began as a mere introduction between you and Joshua quickly evolved into a strategic arrangement orchestrated by your father and Joshua's grandfather. They agreed to a marriage between the two of you, believing it would further solidify the bond between the companies.

Fortunately, neither of you had any objections. Joshua found himself deeply attracted to your integrity and kindness, qualities that only strengthened his affection over time. What started as a business arrangement blossomed into a genuine partnership, both in life and in the boardroom.

"Let's get divorced after a few years," you suggested, your voice carefully measured as you spoke after a family meeting just before the wedding.

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's not talk about divorce when we haven’t even said ‘I do’ yet."

You sighed, trying to find the right words. "That's not what I meant. I just want us to have the freedom to express our thoughts about this... arrangement. I don't want you to regret anything."

Joshua glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road as he drove you home. A gentle smile played on his lips. "You're too kind, Y/N. Too kind for me."

After the wedding day, Joshua’s life was turned upside down—in the best way possible. His heart raced every time he saw you, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself whenever you were near. It didn’t take long for him to realize he was falling deeply in love with you.

As Joshua started to believe that you might feel the same way, he nearly forgot about the contract you both had signed before the wedding—a marriage contract stipulating that you would divorce after five years.

"Two years," you said one evening, your tone serious as you brought up the contract.

Joshua shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "Five, at least. That’s the right amount of time to have everything settled between our companies before we divorce."

Living with you had been effortless for those years, a seamless partnership that made life feel easy and natural. But one night, after returning from a business trip to Taiwan, Joshua was blindsided when you handed him divorce papers to sign. His heart sank as he stared at you in shock, unable to believe you were bringing up the contract he had thought had long been forgotten.

"We've been fighting a lot," you began, your voice steady but laced with sadness. "And it's always about the same things. We see the world differently, and I don’t think I should live with someone who doesn’t share my vision."

Joshua felt something inside him shatter. He had believed you would understand him, that you were different. But now, he realized you were just like everyone else in his life. Just like his parents who had left him behind.

In that moment, the walls he had built to protect himself from pain crumbled, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than ever. He had fallen in love with you, but now he was faced with the harsh reality that love alone might not be enough to keep you by his side.

"Sorry for taking up your time, Seungkwan, but I really need these papers," Joshua said as he began rifling through the box Seungkwan had brought over.

It had been two weeks since the tense meeting between you and Joshua. Since then, any further communication had been handled strictly by your secretaries, Seungkwan and Chan. The deadline for Joshua to make a decision on your offer was only two days away.

Seungkwan sat down, opening his tablet to check his list of tasks. As he glanced at the screen, a thought crossed his mind. "By the way, do you know who Jina is?" he asked Joshua casually.

Joshua frowned, shaking his head. "Jina who?"

Seungkwan shrugged. "I’m not sure. Chan, Ms. Choi's secretary, mentioned that she had to take care of her child, Jina. I was wondering if she might have remarried already?"

Joshua’s hands froze mid-movement as his heart skipped a beat. Child. The word echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of questions. Are you married already? Did you finally have the family you always dreamed of? Are you happy now with the child he couldn’t give you?

He forced himself to respond, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "Really? I didn't know."

Seungkwan nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Maybe it was a secret marriage. After all, it’s only been three years since her divorce from you," he speculated.

Three years. That was all it took for you to move on, to find someone new. To build the life that he had always wanted with you. Meanwhile, Joshua couldn't even fathom replacing you. The mere thought of it felt impossible, as if no one could ever fill the void you left behind.

*

Joshua met with you once to sign the MoU between your two companies. A month passed, and he began to realize that rekindling the business relationship between your families had been a good idea after all.

One afternoon, Joshua was out for lunch with a client. After their meal, he headed to the restroom and was surprised to find a little girl crying in front of the men’s room. Seeing that no one else was around, he gently picked her up and wiped the tears from her chubby cheeks.

“Mom…” the little girl whimpered, her voice breaking Joshua’s heart. Deciding to help, he started looking for her parents.

As he walked down the hallway, he heard familiar voices arguing. Turning the corner, he saw you scolding a younger woman dressed in what looked like a nanny's uniform.

"How could you lose her?" you snapped, clearly distressed.

Before Joshua could speak, you spotted him, your eyes widening as you quickly approached. "Jina, where have you been?" you called out as you reached for the little girl.

Joshua’s breath caught as your eyes met his. For a brief moment, your steps faltered, but then you took the girl from his arms, your expression softening as you spoke to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” you soothed, cradling the little girl you had called Jina.

“Thank you so much,” you said to Joshua, your voice filled with relief. “She just learned to run, and she slipped away from her nanny.”

You handed Jina back to the nanny you had been scolding moments before, and Joshua couldn’t help but stare at the little girl. She had your beautiful eyes, and Joshua couldn’t deny that she was the cutest toddler he had ever seen.

As he watched you comfort Jina, Joshua felt a pang in his chest, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. Seeing you with a child—a child who looked so much like you—brought back memories of the dreams he once had, dreams of a life you could have had together.

Joshua stood there, watching as you cradled Jina in your arms, and memories of your time together flooded back. During your marriage, you had often expressed your deep desire to start a family. You had dreamed of having children, of creating a warm and loving home where you could nurture and protect them. You had spoken to Joshua about it openly, passionately, yearning for a child who would be a symbol of the love you once shared.

But Joshua had been paralyzed by fear. The idea of becoming a father terrified him, more than he could ever admit to you. He had grown up in a house filled with anger and pain, a witness to his father’s cruelty. His father had been abusive, both physically and emotionally, to Joshua and his mother. Joshua had seen firsthand the damage a father could do to his family, how easily love could turn to hate, how trust could be shattered by betrayal. He had watched his father cheat on his mother, breaking her spirit before finally leaving her for someone else.

These memories haunted Joshua. The thought of becoming a father brought back all those fears—the fear of repeating his father’s mistakes, the fear of not being good enough, the fear of hurting those he loved the most. He didn’t want to bring a child into the world only to fail them, to fail you. And so, every time you spoke of starting a family, Joshua found himself pulling away, unable to share your dream. He was too afraid of the past repeating itself, of becoming the very thing he had always despised.

He remembered the arguments that would arise whenever the topic came up, the frustration in your eyes when he hesitated, the sadness in your voice when he couldn’t give you a clear answer. He had loved you, but his fear had been stronger than his love. He had convinced himself that he was protecting you, protecting any potential child from the possibility of being raised by someone who wasn’t capable of being the father they deserved.

But now, as he looked at Jina—this little girl who had your eyes, your gentleness—he couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. Seeing you as a mother, so natural, so caring, made him realize just how much he had deprived both of you by letting his fears control him. The life you had wanted, the family you had dreamed of—it was something he could never have given you because he had been too afraid to try.

Joshua felt a deep, aching regret settle in his chest. He had let you go, thinking it was for the best, thinking it was the only way to protect you from the darkness inside him. But now, he could see how much he had lost in the process. You had moved on, found the family you always wanted, while he remained trapped by the ghosts of his past.

As you walked away with Jina, Joshua realized that he had not only lost you but also the chance to be part of something truly beautiful. And for the first time, he wondered if he could ever forgive himself for letting fear steal away the life he could have had with you.

*

Joshua was interrupted by a notification that there was a call from Seungcheol, your older brother and the soon-to-be president of Choi Corps. He immediately put down his work and picked up the call, his focus sharpening. Seungcheol’s breathy, urgent voice greeted him on the other end, asking if Joshua was in town at the moment.

"Yes, I'm in my office right now," Joshua replied, his concern mounting.

Joshua and Seungcheol had known each other since college, having attended the same business school. They knew each other better than mere acquaintances, but their relationship was complicated by an underlying competitiveness. Both were driven, ambitious, and determined to succeed—traits that had prevented them from becoming close friends. There could only be one star, and Seungcheol had often seemed to take the throne, aided by his privilege and relentless work ethic.

"I need you to get to Seoul University Hospital. Now!" Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, tinged with urgency.

Joshua’s heart skipped a beat, panic setting in. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Y/n?" he asked immediately, his pulse quickening.

"No, it’s not Y/n," Seungcheol answered, his tone tense. "Someone else needs you."

"Who?" Joshua pressed, confusion and worry battling within him.

"Just get here, Joshua. I’m begging you. My sister... she’s not in the right state of mind right now," Seungcheol pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

Joshua’s mind raced, trying to piece together what could have happened. The urgency in Seungcheol’s voice told him it was serious, and despite their complicated history, he knew he couldn’t ignore the call. Without wasting another second, Joshua grabbed his keys and headed out the door, a sense of dread settling in his chest as he rushed to the hospital.

Joshua arrived at Seoul University Hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. The cold, sterile smell of the hospital hit him as he hurried through the halls, searching for the ICU. His mind raced, trying to make sense of Seungcheol's cryptic call. The worry in Seungcheol's voice had been unmistakable, but Joshua still didn’t fully understand what was happening.

When he finally found the ICU, his eyes immediately landed on Seungcheol, who was standing rigidly with a tense expression. Seungcheol’s eyes locked onto Joshua as soon as he approached, and he stood up straighter, signaling Joshua over.

You were sitting on a bench beside Seungcheol, your head buried in your knees, your body trembling slightly. Chan, your secretary, stood beside you, a hand resting on your shoulder, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.

Joshua felt his stomach twist at the sight of you like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the strong, composed person he knew. His gaze flickered between you and Seungcheol, searching for answers in their expressions.

"Seungcheol, what’s going on?" Joshua asked, his voice laced with concern and confusion.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, his face strained as he struggled to keep his composure. "It’s Jina," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "She collapsed earlier today, and they had to rush her here. The doctors said she needs an immediate white cell transfusion."

Joshua blinked, trying to process the information. "A white cell transfusion? But... why? What happened to her?"

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "Jina has a rare blood disorder. Her white cell count dropped dangerously low, and she’s in critical condition. The doctors are doing everything they can, but they said she needs a specific type of transfusion—one that’s not easy to come by."

Joshua's mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "But why... why did you call me? What does this have to do with me?"

Seungcheol hesitated, glancing at you before answering. "Jina is your daughter, Joshua," he finally said, the words heavy with the weight of the truth. "That’s why we need you. You’re her father."

*

"Get that bastard here!" your father roared, his voice echoing through the house. You winced, hearing the fury in his tone as your mother quietly explained what had happened to you over the past few months since the divorce.

Seungcheol sat across from you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of disappointment and concern, as if you had committed some unforgivable sin. In a way, you had—you had made a decision that not only affected your life but also threatened to tear apart the relationship between two powerful companies.

He sighed heavily, breaking the tense silence. "He didn’t want the child. Is that why you two got divorced?" His voice was quiet but edged with disbelief.

You nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. The truth was hard to swallow, even now.

"Then why did you run away?" Seungcheol asked, his voice softening with confusion and concern.

After six months of hiding in Jeju, Seungcheol had finally found you and dragged you back home. The shock on his face was unmistakable when he discovered you were pregnant. At first, he had assumed that someone had taken advantage of you while you were away after the divorce. But when you tearfully confessed that the baby was Joshua’s, his shock turned to something deeper—betrayal, perhaps, or simply the weight of a truth he hadn’t been prepared to hear.

"Is there anything else you're hiding?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, unable to speak. The shame and guilt were too much to bear.

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I won’t tell anyone about this," he finally said, his voice firm but kind. "But one day, he needs to know. You can’t let a child grow up without a father, Y/n."

"He doesn’t want them," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Why can’t you understand that?"

Seungcheol bit his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions. He wanted to protect you, but he also knew the importance of a father’s presence in a child’s life.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and your father stormed in, his face contorted with rage. He marched straight to you, his anger palpable. "Has he ever touched you inappropriately? Has he ever been abusive to you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and filled with protective fury.

"No, Father," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "He never did."

Your father’s face darkened further as he turned to Seungcheol. "Cut ties with him, Seungcheol. How dare he divorce you while you were pregnant with his child," he ordered, his voice seething with anger.

Seungcheol nodded slowly, his eyes flickering between you and your father. The decision had been made. The relationship between the two companies would be severed, and Joshua would be held accountable for abandoning you. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the secret you still carried—the knowledge that despite everything, a part of you still loved Joshua, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him entirely.

Joshua’s mother had always been frail, suffering from a rare condition that left her frequently unwell. It was this reason that led Joshua to make the decision to live with his mother after just a few months of marriage. Despite both of you juggling demanding careers, Joshua insisted on taking care of her personally, sending the nurse away each night so he could attend to her himself.

Since Joshua had taken over the highest responsibilities at his company, business trips became a frequent part of his life, often leaving you alone with his mother. In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad. His mother was kind and nurturing, and you appreciated her presence. But as the months went on, things began to change.

Her once gentle suggestions started to feel more like subtle commands. "Don’t you think you should prepare a bath for him?" she mentioned one evening, shortly before Joshua was expected home from the office. You simply smiled in response, too tired to engage after a long day at work. But the comment lingered, an unspoken expectation hanging in the air.

"Y/n, you should stay at home," she said another time, her tone laced with concern. "You’ll be too exhausted to properly take care of your husband if you keep working."

Her words, once easy to brush off, began to grate on your nerves, especially on days when work had already worn you thin. Yet, you remained composed, understanding that she was his mother and that her meddling came from a place of care—even if it didn’t always feel that way.

There were nights when you would approach Joshua, hoping to discuss the possibility of the two of you living separately, away from the constant strain of these expectations. "Can’t we find a place of our own?" you’d ask gently. "It’s just… it’s getting hard, Joshua."

But Joshua would always respond with the same quiet firmness, his love for his mother evident in every word. "She’s too ill, love. I don’t think I can leave her to live alone."

And so, you tried to understand. You tried to be patient, even as the weight of the situation began to press down on your marriage.

One evening, as you were tidying up the living room, Joshua’s mother approached you with a soft but probing tone. "Have you checked yourself at the hospital, darling?" she asked, her eyes studying your reaction. "It’s been a few years now, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant. Is everything all right?"

Her question, though couched in concern, felt like a punch to the gut. You paused, the magazine you were holding slipping from your fingers as her words echoed in your mind. You had been bracing yourself for this conversation, knowing it was only a matter of time before she brought it up.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. "The doctors say everything is fine, Mother," you replied, keeping your voice as steady as possible. "It just hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother frowned slightly, her concern deepening. "But it’s been so long, Y/n. You should consider seeing a specialist, maybe even explore other options."

The suggestion stung, though you knew she meant well. It wasn’t just the pressure to conceive—it was the weight of expectation that you carried every day. You had wanted a child just as much as she did, if not more. But Joshua… Joshua had been hesitant from the start.

You remembered the conversations you had had with him, the nights you had spent lying awake, thinking about the future, imagining the family you could build together. But Joshua always seemed reluctant, his fear of fatherhood holding him back. He had grown up in a broken home, witnessed his father’s abuse, and the scars those memories left on him ran deep. He had confessed to you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he was terrified of becoming like his father, of hurting you or any future children the way his father had hurt him and his mother.

"We’ll have a child when the time is right," Joshua would say, his voice heavy with the weight of his own fears. "But not now. I’m not ready, Y/n."

And so, you had waited, pushing down your own longing, hoping that one day, he would feel ready. But as the years passed, the strain began to show—not just on you, but on your marriage as well. Now, with his mother’s pointed question hanging in the air, the unspoken tension between you and Joshua felt more palpable than ever.

"I understand," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But it’s not just about seeing a specialist. There are other things… other reasons why it hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother looked at you with a mixture of pity and concern, clearly wanting to say more but holding back. "I just want what’s best for you, dear," she said softly. "For both of you."

You nodded, appreciating her concern even though it added to the weight you were already carrying. "I know. And we want that too."

But as you turned away, the words she didn’t say lingered in your mind, amplifying the doubts that had already taken root. You wanted to believe that everything would work out, that Joshua would eventually overcome his fears. But as time went on, it became harder to ignore the growing distance between the life you had imagined and the reality you were living.

"You know, she’s a lovely girl," one of Joshua's mother friends said when they came for visiting, her voice laced with that particular tone people use when they’re about to say something less than flattering. "But it’s strange, isn’t it? They’ve been married for years now, and still no children."

Another woman chimed in, "Yes, I’ve noticed. It’s unusual, especially for a young couple like them. Have they mentioned anything to you about it?"

There was a pause, and then you heard Joshua’s mother sigh. "No, she hasn’t said much. But I’m beginning to worry… What if she’s infertile?"

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the conversation continued.

"Oh, that would be such a shame," one of the women responded sympathetically. "Your son deserves to have children, to continue the family line."

"I know," Joshua’s mother replied, her voice heavy with a mix of concern and resignation. "I feel so bad for him. He’s always wanted a family, and I’m sure this must be hard on him. But… what can we do?"

They moved on to other topics, but you couldn’t focus on anything else. The words echoed in your mind, over and over, each repetition cutting deeper than the last.

Infertile.

A shame.

I feel so bad for him.

You knew Joshua’s mother meant well, in her own way. But hearing her talk about you like that, like you were some kind of defective person, made you feel like you didn’t belong in this family—like you were failing Joshua, failing yourself. The weight of it all was too much to bear.

The tension between you and Joshua had been building for months, and after overhearing his mother’s conversation, it finally reached a breaking point. The desire for a child had always been there, but now, it felt like a constant, pressing need—one that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Joshua,” you began carefully as the two of you sat down for dinner, “we need to talk.”

He looked up from his plate, his expression wary. He knew what was coming. You had had this conversation before, and it never ended well.

“Can’t we just eat in peace?” he asked, his voice tired.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Your mother… she’s been putting a lot of pressure on me about having a child. She’s been saying things that… that hurt.”

Joshua frowned, confusion clouding his expression. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been asking me why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. She even suggested I should see a doctor, as if there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. “And I overheard her telling her friends that she thinks I might be infertile. She felt bad for you, saying that you deserve a child, and she doubted if I could give you one.”

Joshua’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing. “She said that?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes. And it hurt, Joshua. It made me feel like I’m failing you, like I’m not good enough. I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve tried to be patient, but… it’s tearing me apart.”

Instead of the sympathy you had hoped for, Joshua’s expression hardened. “My mother is ill, Y/n. She’s under a lot of stress, and she’s worried about us. That’s why she says those things. It’s not fair to hold that against her.”

“I’m not trying to hold it against her,” you said, your frustration rising. “But it’s affecting us, Joshua. It’s not just about what she said—it’s about how it’s making me feel. I’ve been trying to handle it on my own, but I can’t anymore. I need you to understand how much this is hurting me.”

Joshua shook his head, his voice growing colder. “So what? You want me to blame my mother? You think she’s the villain here? She’s just looking out for me, for us.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” you replied, feeling your own anger flare up. “But you can’t just dismiss how I feel. She’s making me feel like I’m not enough, like I’m failing as your wife, and you’re not doing anything to stop it.”

Joshua stood up from the table, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary. “She’s sick, Y/n! She’s the only family I have left, and you want me to start a fight with her because she’s worried about us having kids? You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

You stood up as well, the pain in your chest twisting into something sharper. “I’m not blowing it out of proportion! I’m telling you that your mother is hurting me, and instead of listening to me, you’re defending her!”

Joshua’s face was flushed with anger now, his hands balled into fists. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Y/n. You don’t know what she’s been through, what I’ve been through. She’s trying to protect me, and you’re turning her into some kind of monster!”

“I’m not!” you shouted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t just keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not! I’m drowning here, Joshua, and you’re more concerned about protecting your mother’s feelings than mine!”

Joshua’s voice dropped, cold and sharp. “You’re the one who’s making this a fight, not me. Maybe you’re just looking for someone to blame because you’re not getting what you want.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you recoiled, shocked by the bitterness in his tone. “Is that really what you think?” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Joshua’s gaze softened slightly, as if he realized he’d gone too far, but the tension in the air was too thick to dispel. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t apologize. He didn’t take it back.

Instead, he turned away, his back to you. “I can’t do this right now, Y/n. I just… I need some space.”

The room felt colder as he walked away, leaving you standing there alone, your heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid. You had come to him, hoping for understanding, for support, but instead, you felt more isolated than ever. The chasm between you and Joshua seemed to grow wider with every passing moment, and you were left wondering how, or if, you could ever bridge it again.

*

After the divorce was finalized, you wasted no time in disappearing to Jeju. It was a quiet, impulsive decision—one made in the heat of heartache and confusion. You didn’t tell anyone, not even your family, because you couldn’t bear the thought of facing their pity or questions. You needed to escape, to be alone with your thoughts, away from the memories and the pain.

The divorce had happened faster than you expected, almost too smoothly. There had been no drawn-out arguments, no legal battles. It was as if Joshua had been waiting for this, and that realization stung more than anything. You had thought there would be some resistance, some sign that he was still holding on to what you had built together. But there wasn’t. He signed the papers without hesitation, and with that, the final chapter of your marriage was closed.

The speed of it all made you wonder if Joshua had already given up on you long before the papers were drawn. Maybe he had been tired of you, tired of the constant tension and arguments, tired of your desire for a child that he couldn’t bring himself to accept. It was easier for him to let go than to fight, and that thought was devastating.

In Jeju, you found solace in the quiet. The island, with its endless ocean views and soft winds, offered the peace that you so desperately needed. You stayed in a small cottage near the shore, far removed from the life you once knew. The waves crashing against the rocks became your lullaby at night, and the sunrises over the water offered a sliver of hope each morning.

But no matter how hard you tried to run away from the past, it followed you. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Joshua’s face. You heard his voice, the way he had told you he needed space, the way he had defended his mother over you.

You woke up to the harsh, sterile smell of alcohol and the blinding white light that filled the room. Your head throbbed as you slowly opened your eyes, and for a moment, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. The last thing you remembered was sitting on the shore, watching the waves roll in. The peaceful rhythm of the sea had always calmed you, but now, everything felt off—foreign, wrong.

Panic surged through you as you tried to sit up, only to realize you were lying on a hospital bed. The walls were white, the sound of medical machines humming in the background. You weren’t on the beach anymore. This wasn’t your cottage.

A soft voice pulled you out of your daze. “Mam, can you hear me?”

You turned to see a man in a white coat standing beside you. His expression was calm but concerned. “I’m Dr. Kim. You’re in a clinic now. Can you tell me your name?”

You blinked, your mind still foggy. “Y/n,” you whispered, your voice dry and weak.

Dr. Kim nodded, offering a small smile. “Good. Do you remember what happened?”

You tried to think back, but your memories were jumbled. The sea, the breeze, the quiet… and then nothing. You shook your head slowly. “I was on the beach. That’s all I remember.”

He sighed softly, glancing at the chart in his hand. “You were found by a fisherman early this morning. You passed out, and he brought you here. We’ve run some tests to make sure you’re okay.”

You swallowed, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Tests?”

“Yes,” Dr. Kim said gently, “and I want to assure you, you’re going to be fine. But there’s something else you need to know.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You’re eight weeks pregnant.”

Your heart stopped. Pregnant? The word echoed in your mind, but it didn’t feel real. “No,” you muttered, shaking your head. “That can’t be right.”

Dr. Kim’s expression softened with understanding. “I know this might be unexpected news, but the tests confirmed it. You’re two months along.”

Two months. Eight weeks. The timeline fit perfectly with everything that had happened just before you left Joshua, before the divorce, before everything crumbled. You placed a trembling hand on your stomach, still flat but now holding a secret that was no longer just yours.

Suddenly, everything rushed back—the arguments, Joshua’s rejection, and his fear of fatherhood, And now, here you were, in a clinic, alone and pregnant.

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of it all came crashing down. You had hoped to avoid this moment, to escape it, but there was no running away from the truth now. You were going to have a child—Joshua’s child—and no matter how much you had tried to distance yourself from him, he would always be a part of this.

Dr. Kim’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Is there anyone you’d like us to contact? A family member, perhaps?”

You shook your head quickly, the tears now freely falling down your cheeks. “No. No one.”

He nodded, his expression kind but professional. “Take your time. We’ll make sure you’re stable and that everything with the pregnancy is progressing well. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As he left the room, you were left alone with your thoughts and the knowledge that your life had just changed forever. The child you hadn’t dared to hope for was real, growing inside you, and now you had to decide what to do next.

But even as the fear gripped your heart, a small flicker of hope began to grow. For the first time in months, you weren’t running away. You were facing the future—one step at a time.

*

"Can we talk?"

You froze in place as Joshua's voice reached you. Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, dressed in a hospital gown, clearly preparing for his medical checkup before the donor. His eyes were tired, filled with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, your voice strained, "I have no energy for this right now."

"At least give me some enlightenment," Joshua said, his tone surprisingly calm despite the tension between you. "I came here two hours ago not knowing I had a daughter. And I've been patient enough to wait to ask this."

You felt the weight of his words pressing down on you. He had a right to know, and yet, telling him had always seemed impossible. You took a step toward him, meeting his gaze as you spoke quietly, “Yes, she's your daughter. I found out I was pregnant a week after our divorce.

A heavy silence hung between you as Joshua absorbed the news. His face remained unreadable, but you could see the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

"You need a proof?" you asked, almost defensively, your heart racing.

Joshua shook his head slowly. "No... I don’t need proof."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but before you could speak again, he continued.

"I wish she was mine," Joshua whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "From the first time I saw her, I wished she was mine."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you couldn't respond. You had prepared for anger, for denial, for resentment, but not this. Not the raw longing in his voice, the quiet regret that had been buried deep inside him.

“I—” you started, but your voice faltered. You weren’t sure what to say.

Joshua took a deep breath, his hand running through his hair as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? Why did you run away without saying anything? I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what?” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “You would’ve told me how scared you were? How much you didn’t want this? You were terrified of becoming a father, Joshua. I couldn’t bear the thought of you rejecting me, rejecting her.”

He flinched at your words, his jaw tightening. “You should’ve given me a choice.”

“A choice?” You almost laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You couldn’t even handle the idea of having a child. You wanted time. And what was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to be ready while I carried your child?”

Joshua’s eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and pain, but he remained silent, letting you speak.

“I did what I thought was best,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I couldn’t wait for you to come to terms with something that was already happening. I was terrified too, Joshua. But I didn’t have the luxury of walking away from it.”

Joshua looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I get that I was scared. I admit it. But I never would’ve abandoned you... or her." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

The vulnerability in his words caused your anger to soften, but the hurt remained. “Then why didn’t you fight for us?” you asked quietly. “Why did the divorce happen so easily?”

Joshua's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the truth—he had been just as lost as you were. “I thought you wanted out,” he said simply. “You brought up the divorce, and I thought you were done with me. I thought... I wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I didn’t want out. I wanted you to see me, to see us. But you were too focused on your fears.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both of you caught in the weight of everything left unsaid for years.

Joshua watched you closely, piecing together the puzzle in his mind. The business offer that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, the meetings, the subtle ways you kept a professional distance—it all started to make sense. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help but voice the suspicion gnawing at him.

"This whole sudden approach in business," he began slowly, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity, "was it just an excuse? Were you trying to find a way to retaliate our relationship in case Jina needed me?"

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how quickly he’d reached the conclusion you feared he might.

“Joshua—”

“Just tell me the truth, Y/n,” he said, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Was the business deal just a cover? Were you keeping me close because you thought... she might need me?”

You hesitated, unable to meet his gaze, and that was answer enough for Joshua.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. “I thought something felt off. The way you kept me at arm’s length, the professional tone... I kept thinking this wasn’t like you. But I didn’t want to push, didn’t want to make it harder.”

Silence fell between you, the tension thick as you struggled to find the right words. Finally, you sighed, your voice low. “I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t expect to reach out to you, not after everything. But when Jina got sick... I panicked. I realized she might need more than just me.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he processed your words. “So you were going to keep me out of her life unless she needed something from me?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to use you, Joshua. I just... I didn’t know how to let you back in after everything that happened.”

Joshua stared at you, his expression softening as he saw the genuine conflict in your eyes. “You should’ve told me, Y/n. I had a right to know about her, about everything. You can’t just make those decisions on your own.”

“I know,” you whispered, guilt washing over you.

Finally, Joshua took a shaky breath. “I’m here now, Y/n. I don’t know how to make up for the past, but I’m not running away anymore. I want to be in her life. I want to be a father.”

His words hit you like a wave, and though part of you wanted to believe him, another part still held onto the hurt, the disappointment. "She's not something you can just decide to be a part of when it suits you, Joshua."

"I know that," he said softly, his eyes pleading with you. "I’m asking you to let me try."

You looked at him, the man who once couldn’t fathom being a father now standing before you, begging for a chance. It wasn’t forgiveness he sought, but a way forward.

And you didn’t know if you were ready to give it to him. But for your daughter’s sake—for Jina—you had to at least consider it.

"I need time too," you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

Joshua nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

*

The next day, the results came back—the match was confirmed, and Joshua was prepped for the procedure. The white blood cell donor was done swiftly, and you waited anxiously for updates on both Joshua and Jina.

When you heard Joshua had regained consciousness, you made your way to his room. As you entered, he looked pale but alert, his eyes immediately searching for you.

“How’s her condition?” he asked, his voice still weak, but full of concern.

A smile broke across your face, relief flooding your system. “Her surgery just finished. The doctor said her condition is stable.”

Joshua let out a deep breath of gratitude, sinking back into his pillow. You stood there for a moment, watching him—this man who had once been terrified of fatherhood, now willing to give everything for his daughter.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Thanks for doing this.”

Joshua nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m her father. I’ll do everything for her.”

There was a weight to his words, an unspoken promise hanging in the air. You felt a knot loosen in your chest, the tension between you easing, if only slightly.

You sat down next to Joshua’s bed, the weight of everything finally sinking in. It had been a whirlwind, from the moment Jina fell sick to this very moment, sitting here with Joshua after the transfusion. Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace.

"How did you know?" Joshua asked, breaking the silence, his voice tentative.

You glanced up at him, unsure of how to answer. "That she was sick? Or that i have her?"

"Both," he replied, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You sighed, shifting in your seat. "I found out I was pregnant a week after the divorce. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, hurt, confused... and I didn’t want to reach out to you because I thought you'd reject her, reject us."

Joshua winced, his hand running through his hair. "I didn’t mean to push you away. I just didn’t know how to handle... everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And I ran too. I thought leaving was the best way to protect her. But when Jina got sick, I realized I couldn’t keep you away anymore. She needed you."

There was a pause, and then Joshua's expression turned serious. "You mentioned that Jina’s illness is the same as my mother’s. How did that come to light?"

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, Jina’s condition is indeed the same rare illness your mother had. The doctors confirmed it. It’s hereditary, passed down through genetics, and that’s why the transfusion was so crucial. They said it was a match because of this genetic link."

Joshua's eyes widened with a mix of shock and realization. "I thought... I thought that illness was gone. I didn’t realize it could be passed on."

You reached out, gently touching his hand. "None of us knew until now."

Joshua's face fell as he absorbed the new revelation. "So, she has the same battle to fight as my mother did?"

You nodded sadly. "Yes. But she has a chance now, thanks to you. And that’s what matters."

Joshua’s gaze softened, a mixture of sorrow and resolve in his eyes. "I’ll do everything I can to help her through this. She deserves that chance."

You smiled faintly, feeling a sense of shared purpose. "Thank you, Joshua. That means more than you know."

For now, despite the challenges ahead, there was a shared commitment to face them together, for Jina's sake.

You gently introduced Jina to Joshua for the first time. Holding her small hand in yours, you led her into Joshua’s hospital room. She looked around, her eyes wide and curious, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Joshua, still in his hospital gown, sat up in bed, his expression a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

"Jina," you said softly, guiding her forward, "this is your father, Joshua."

Joshua’s eyes were warm as he looked at Jina. "Hi, Jina. It’s nice to finally meet you."

Jina was shy at first, hiding behind your legs and peeking out with wide, hesitant eyes. But as Joshua spoke gently to her, a flicker of recognition seemed to spark in her. She slowly moved closer, drawn by the undeniable bond of blood and the kindness in Joshua’s voice.

Over the next few days, Jina spent a lot of time in the hospital room with Joshua. The transition wasn’t easy at first, but Joshua made an effort to bond with her. He played games, read her stories, and held her hand during her treatments. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing day, and Joshua embraced his role as a father more than you could have hoped for.

As Jina’s condition improved and it was time for her to leave the hospital, she expressed a strong desire to stay with Joshua. She had grown attached to him, and the idea of living with her 'new' father excited her.

Joshua, seeing the bond they had formed and understanding the importance of this new family dynamic, made a heartfelt offer. "Why don’t you and Jina move in with me? It would be better for all of us, and I’d love to be there for both of you."

The offer took you by surprise. You had been adjusting to this new phase in your lives, but the thought of moving in with Joshua again was daunting. There were old wounds to heal and uncertainties to address.

You debated the decision with Joshua, weighing the benefits and challenges. Jina, however, was overjoyed at the prospect of living with her father full-time. Her excitement and the genuine bond she had formed with Joshua made it difficult for you to turn down his offer.

After much consideration, you agreed to move to Joshua’s place. It wasn’t just about convenience; it was about providing Jina with the stability and love she needed. You saw how deeply Joshua cared for her and how committed he was to being a father.

The move was bittersweet. There were remnants of old tensions, but there was also a hopeful sense of new beginnings. As you settled into the new routine, you focused on rebuilding your family and creating a supportive environment for Jina.

Joshua was more present and involved than ever, and the family dynamic slowly began to heal. With each passing day, the past seemed a little less burdensome, and the future, though uncertain, seemed filled with possibilities for all of you.

*

Joshua loosened his tie as he stepped into the house, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion from the long day. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that had become his sanctuary in recent weeks. Usually, by the time he got home, you were already in bed, the soft murmur of the television or the gentle rise and fall of your breathing the only sounds he’d hear. But tonight was different.

As he walked into the kitchen, he heard you come through the door just moments after him, the click of your heels and the tired sigh that followed. He turned, spotting you leaning against the wall, your shoes already off, looking like the day had been longer than usual.

"Just back home?" he asked, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar. The question felt natural, like a routine that had formed between the two of you without either of you realizing it.

"Yeah," you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "A very long day. Minha told me Jina fell asleep after playing with the trampoline you just bought her."

Joshua couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Jina. "I’m glad she likes it," he said, feeling that familiar warmth that had come with being a father. Every day with her was new, different, and he found himself looking forward to each moment, no matter how small.

As he grabbed a glass of water, he glanced over at you. Things between the two of you had become... easier. That surprised him more than anything. After everything that had happened—the divorce, the years of separation—he had never expected this sense of peace between you. It was strange, but it was also something he hadn’t realized he’d needed.

It wasn’t just about Jina, though she was the center of it all. It was the way you both slipped into this new life so seamlessly. The tension that once filled the air between you had dissolved into something almost unrecognizable. He wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but somehow, living together again didn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. It felt... right.

"I never thought it would be like this," Joshua found himself saying, almost without thinking. He turned to you, watching as your gaze met his, a look of curiosity in your eyes. "That we’d be here, living together again. Raising her."

You nodded, like you understood exactly what he meant. "Me neither," you replied quietly.

He exhaled slowly, realizing just how much had changed in such a short time. Every part of his life had once been filled with uncertainty, with fear, especially when it came to fatherhood. But now? Now he was coming home to something that felt solid, like the pieces of his life were finally falling into place.

"It feels..." Joshua hesitated, searching for the right words to explain the rush of emotions inside him. "It feels good. Better than I thought it would."

He wasn’t just talking about Jina. Of course, his daughter was a huge part of why he felt this way—being her father, playing with her, watching her grow—it was everything he hadn’t known he wanted. But there was more to it than that. There was something between him and you, a kind of unspoken connection that had started to rebuild itself, brick by brick, without either of you acknowledging it.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of random topics—work, the trampoline, Jina's antics. It was a nice change of pace, a chance to just talk without the weight of the past pressing down on you.

Eventually, the topic shifted to Jina, as it always did. Joshua smiled, thinking about their nightly routine. "She loves her bedtime stories," he said, almost fondly. "It's the best part of the day."

You nodded in agreement, your expression softening. "Yeah, she does. But she asked me something the other night that caught me off guard."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She asked me why we weren't like Sasha's parents." You said it casually, but there was a hint of something deeper in your voice. "You know, from her favorite book. The one about Sasha’s morning routine before school. Waking up, taking a bath, having breakfast."

Joshua thought about it for a second, then nodded. He remembered Jina's animated voice as she read along, her little hands gesturing wildly as she described Sasha's day. "Her parents kiss every morning, right?"

You sighed, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. And she asked, 'Why don't you and Daddy do that?'"

Joshua could almost hear Jina's voice in his head, the innocent curiosity behind her words. He could picture her big eyes looking up at you, her tiny hands mimicking Sasha's parents.

He glanced over at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So... do you want to kiss every morning?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was a slight laugh behind it. "That's not what I was getting at."

Joshua laughed too, the sound filling the room. "Then why bring it up?"

You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. "I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to share what she said. But we don’t have to force ourselves to do things just for her sake. She’ll understand eventually."

Joshua’s smile faded, and he turned serious for a moment. "But she’s still so young. I don’t want her to have to understand everything that’s happened between us. It’s not her burden to carry. That’s on us."

You glanced at him, sensing the weight behind his words. "Is that coming from experience?" you teased lightly.

He let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Yeah. And trust me, she’ll thank us later if we handle it right."

You sighed, leaning back. "Alright, alright. I get it."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "So... does that mean you want to kiss every morning?"

You looked at him, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Joshua."

*

Joshua stepped into the dining room, his usual morning grogginess slowly lifting as the familiar scene came into view. You were already sitting with Jina, who was happily in her baby seat, excitedly munching on her breakfast. Her face lit up as soon as she saw him.

"Morning..." Joshua said softly, his voice warm as he walked over to Jina. He leaned down, ruffling her hair with a fond smile. "Hi, baby... Do you like your food?"

Jina giggled, showing him her messy hands, oatmeal smudged across her cheeks. Joshua chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight. Mornings like these—simple and domestic—were beginning to feel more natural, more like something he hadn’t realized he craved.

You stood up, walking over to the counter, grabbing his coffee and setting it down in front of him with a casual "Morning."

He was about to respond when your lips brushed his, a fleeting touch that froze him in place. It wasn’t long or deliberate, but the surprise of it sent a jolt through him. His mind went blank, his body stiffening in shock.

Before he could even process it, Jina's excited voice cut through the air. "Eomma, appa, kiss!" she squealed, clapping her hands in delight. In her excitement, she managed to fling bits of food everywhere.

You laughed softly, wiping her face and the surrounding area with a cloth, completely unfazed by her mess. "Alright, alright, let's clean you up."

Joshua, still dazed, blinked a few times, trying to shake off the feeling. Did you just kiss him? Did he imagine that? It felt real—too real to just be in his head. He looked down at the coffee you placed in front of him, but he couldn’t focus.

"Do you like your coffee?" Your voice was light, casual, as if nothing unusual had just happened.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yeah. It’s... it’s great." He picked up the cup, taking a sip, the warmth grounding him as he stole a glance at you. You were back to wiping Jina's hands, acting like the kiss hadn’t just happened.

Joshua couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind, over and over. It was so brief, but it lingered—just like the unspoken questions between you both. Was it for Jina’s sake? Was it just part of the routine now?

Each morning, it became a routine—Joshua would come down to the dining room, greeted by Jina's excited babbling and your calm, steady presence. And each morning, without fail, you would kiss him. It wasn’t long or deep, just a brief brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make his heart skip. He never expected it, and yet, when it happened, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

At first, Joshua didn’t know what to make of it. Was it just for Jina? A way to give her the illusion of a normal, loving family? He didn’t ask, though. He couldn’t. The kiss, no matter how small, made him feel something—something he hadn’t felt in years. And if it made you feel anything close to what he did, he didn’t want to ruin it by questioning.

The routine didn’t stop at breakfast. One day, after the morning chaos settled and Jina was off to school, you casually suggested, “What if we take Jina out every weekend? A day just for her.”

Joshua nodded, happy to spend time with both of you. But as the weekends rolled by, your casual suggestion evolved into full-on plans. The park one weekend, then a picnic, followed by the aquarium. Soon you were planning beach trips, and even talks of weekend getaways or out-of-country vacations floated between you two. Joshua didn’t quite understand why you were so insistent on it—why it had to be every weekend, and why everything was planned so meticulously. But he didn’t complain. Instead, he followed along, content with how things were.

The spontaneity didn’t end there. You started coming home early from work, which caught Joshua off guard. He’d walk in from work, loosening his tie, only to find you in the kitchen, dinner already half-prepared, Jina babbling away at the dining table.

At first, Joshua didn’t know how to feel. It was strange seeing you so present. But after a while, he adjusted. He even started leaving work earlier, making sure he was home before dinner so he could sit with you and Jina. That hour before dinner became something he looked forward to—an hour of calm, where the three of you could just be together.

And then there was Jina’s bedtime. What had once been an alternating task—one night you would read her a story, the next it would be Joshua—turned into a shared routine. You both started reading together, one of you voicing the characters while the other filled in the details, Jina giggling between your voices. The joy in her eyes was infectious, and Joshua often caught himself getting lost in the moment.

He hadn’t realized it until recently, but this was the life he’d always dreamed of. He had a daughter, a family, a sense of stability that he never thought he’d have. And you—well, you were more than just a co-parent. Slowly, without either of you acknowledging it, you were slipping back into something more.

Joshua didn’t know where this was going or what you were thinking, but he was happier than he’d been in years. It still felt fragile, like everything could fall apart with one wrong move. But for now, he was content to let things unfold, to enjoy the routine, the warmth of your kiss each morning, the laughter over dinner, and the shared bedtime stories.

It was more than he ever thought he deserved, and he was too scared to ask for anything more.

Joshua came home, but something felt off immediately. The house was unusually quiet. There was no sign of Jina’s usual laughter or your familiar voice filling the space. His brows furrowed as he stepped deeper into the house, scanning the rooms until he finally reached the family room.

There you were, sitting on the couch with Jina nestled in your arms, and across from you sat his mother, her posture stiff, eyes sharp. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Joshua," his mother said, her voice icy. "Care to explain why your ex-wife is here?"

Joshua’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t prepared for this—hadn’t even told his mother about the new situation with you and Jina. His mother had no idea that Jina was her granddaughter. He hadn’t planned for her to find out like this, and now, with everything out in the open, his carefully constructed plan was unraveling.

Taking a deep breath, Joshua walked over and stood between you and his mother. He glanced at you, and the look in your eyes told him you were just as surprised and unsure of what to say.

"This is Jina," Joshua finally said, his voice steady but filled with the weight of the truth. "She’s my daughter."

His mother’s gasp echoed in the room. "Your daughter? What do you mean? What’s going on here?" she demanded, her voice rising with disbelief.

Joshua sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s a long story, Mom. A lot has happened, and I wasn’t ready to tell you yet. But I’ll come by tomorrow and explain everything. For now, I need you to trust me."

His mother looked between him and you, her confusion and frustration evident. Joshua gently took her arm, helping her to stand. "Please," he added softly, "just give me time to explain. We’ll talk tomorrow."

Reluctantly, she nodded, still looking at Jina as if trying to comprehend the new reality. Without another word, Joshua led his mother to the door, closing it softly behind her as she left.

The quiet returned, and when he walked back into the house, he found you already in the kitchen, washing dishes in silence. Jina sat on the floor, engrossed in her favorite TV series, oblivious to the tension that had just filled the house.

Joshua watched you for a moment, the silence between you louder than anything. You moved mechanically, your back to him, the distance between you more than just physical. He knew something was wrong—knew it by the way you didn’t meet his eyes when he walked in, by the way you had prepared his dinner without a word.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping into the kitchen, but you didn’t respond.

After a moment, you finally spoke, your voice low, emotion barely restrained. "I’m going to read Jina to sleep. You should eat your dinner."

Joshua nodded, watching as you wiped your hands on a towel and turned toward Jina. But the weight of the situation hung heavy on him, and he couldn’t let you walk away without saying something.

"Look," he began, his voice hesitant. "I know tonight was... unexpected. I wasn’t ready for her to find out like this. I’m sorry."

"That's fine."

With that, you walked over to Jina, scooping her up and heading toward her bedroom to read her a bedtime story. Joshua stood there, staring at the dinner you had prepared for him, but the food was the last thing on his mind. He knew things had to change, and quickly.

Joshua knocked on your door, knowing you were inside since Jina was already fast asleep in her own room. His heart pounded a little harder than usual, but he had to do this. He needed to clear the air.

"Can we talk?" he asked softly when you opened the door.

You stepped aside, silently giving him permission to enter, and Joshua walked in. The room was small but cozy, though it struck him how different it was from the shared life you once had. His eyes scanned the desk piled with papers, a computer still open—clearly, you had been working late. He realized how much you were juggling, and it only made him more determined to make things right.

"I'll explain everything to my mom tomorrow," he began, his voice steady, though there was a vulnerability in the way he stood. "And I’ll tell her that we’re back together."

You didn’t respond right away, just slowly nodding. But Joshua noticed the way your eyes flickered, the subtle tension in your posture. He couldn’t tell if you were on board with his plan or simply accepting it because it was easier than arguing. That uncertainty gnawed at him.

He knew that his mother had hurt you deeply in the past, her interference during your marriage a wound that hadn’t fully healed. And now, here he was, bringing his mother back into the equation. But this time, the situation was different. His mother had remarried and didn’t need to live with him anymore. There wouldn’t be anyone else in your home to create the chaos that had driven a wedge between you before.

"You won’t have to deal with her like before," Joshua added, his tone softening as he stepped closer. "She won’t be living with us, and I’ll make sure she knows her boundaries. I don’t want her—or anyone else—to hurt you again."

You looked up at him, and for a moment, your eyes locked. He could see the hesitation there, the doubt that lingered from old wounds. But there was something else too, something hopeful. Joshua wasn’t sure if it was enough to convince you, but he had to believe it could be.

"I just need you to trust me," he said quietly, his voice almost pleading now. "I know I’ve messed up before. But I’m trying, and I want to make things right—for you, for Jina, for all of us."

*

Joshua was relieved that the routine didn’t fall apart after that tense night with his mother. Despite the confrontation and the heavy conversation that followed, nothing drastically changed in the way you, Jina, and he interacted. In fact, the next morning, everything seemed normal. Jina was her usual excited self, giggling and bouncing around the house. You were busy as usual, managing the house and work effortlessly.

He had explained everything to his mother, sitting her down and finally telling the truth—about Jina, about you, and about the part she played in your separation. It had been difficult to admit, but he couldn’t hide from it anymore. His mother was one of the main reasons why your marriage had fallen apart, and for so long, he had shielded her from that truth. But now, things were different. He needed her to understand that his relationship with you was no longer just about the two of you—it was about Jina.

To his surprise, his mother had listened quietly, her face drawn and serious. She had taken the news with more grace than he’d expected, though he knew it wasn’t easy for her. When he asked for her understanding and support moving forward, she had nodded, albeit hesitantly. The wounds were still fresh, but at least they were out in the open now.

Jina, unaware of all the complexity around her, was the glue that kept things light. She had no idea what her parents were going through emotionally, and for that, Joshua was grateful. All she saw was that both her parents were around more and that they were starting to act like a family again. One night at dinner, she had blurted out, "I love it when we’re all together!" Her bright smile and simple joy hit Joshua right in the heart, making everything feel worth it.

It wasn’t long before you and Joshua found yourselves sharing a bed again—not out of any sudden romantic resurgence, but because Jina wanted it that way. She had insisted that the three of you sleep in the same room, piling up her blankets and toys in your bed. Joshua had been nervous at first, wondering if this step would complicate things between you two. But Jina, being the little whirlwind that she was, had no idea of her parents' internal struggles.

What made it easier—what turned the nerve-wracking into something sweet—was Jina’s newfound love for counting. Every night, before bed, she would proudly count to twenty, her voice a mix of concentration and excitement.

“One… two… three…” she would begin, and Joshua and you would both have to follow along, pretending to be as invested as she was. By the time she reached twenty, Jina would cheer, pleased with her accomplishment, and only then would she allow herself to settle down, curling up between you both.

As Joshua lay there, the warmth of Jina’s tiny body nestled against him, he couldn’t help but feel like life was starting to come together. It wasn’t perfect, and there were still a lot of unspoken things between you and him, but for now, this small routine, this quiet moment with Jina, was enough to keep him going. It was the family life he’d always wanted, and he was willing to take it one step at a time, hoping that eventually, everything else would fall into place too.

*

Joshua was in the middle of an important meeting when his other secretary stepped into the conference room, catching his main secretary’s attention with an urgent signal. Joshua noticed the subtle exchange but didn’t think much of it until his main secretary quietly approached him, phone in hand, his expression grave.

“Sir,” he whispered, “your daughter has been rushed to the hospital.”

Joshua’s heart stopped. Without a second thought, he abruptly ended the meeting and rushed out, his mind racing as he made his way to the hospital.

When he arrived, he spotted you standing motionless in front of the ICU, your eyes locked on Jina, who was lying weakly on the hospital bed, her small body surrounded by machines. The sight made his breath catch in his throat.

“What happened?” Joshua’s voice was thick with fear as he approached you, but you didn’t immediately respond. You looked distant, as if the weight of the situation had drained all the life from you.

Around you, the family had gathered—your secretary, your brother Seungcheol, and your mother, all wearing similar expressions of dread. It felt suffocating.

“Where’s Minji?” Joshua asked about Jina's nanny, his voice sharper than intended. His mind was racing, trying to grasp any detail that might help him understand the situation.

“She’s been dismissed for a week,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. You turned and glanced at your mother, who silently pulled you into a tight embrace.

Joshua’s heart clenched with confusion and fear. “What’s happening?” he asked, turning to Seungcheol, desperate for answers.

Seungcheol hesitated, his eyes filled with sadness. “Her heartbeat dropped.”

Joshua felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. His pulse roared in his ears. The words didn’t seem real. His little girl, who was so full of life just hours ago, was now fighting to survive.

The doctor appeared, asking for both parents to step forward. Joshua moved on autopilot, standing beside you as the doctor spoke.

“I’m afraid Jina’s condition is critical,” the doctor said gravely. “Her lungs have collapsed, and their function has been decreasing over time. We are doing everything we can, but...” He paused, his expression pained. “You need to prepare for the worst.”

The room seemed to close in on Joshua. He glanced at you, your face pale and expression blank, as though you hadn’t quite processed the enormity of the situation. He wanted to reach out, to hold you, to reassure you—maybe even reassure himself—but he felt paralyzed by fear.

The weight of the doctor's words hung in the air, crushing, unforgiving. And for the first time in his life, Joshua felt completely powerless.

*

"You knew about this." Joshua's voice cut through the heavy silence as you stepped into the house after the funeral.

Everything had happened so fast. In just eight hours, you lost Jina forever. The world seemed to blur around you, every moment a haze of grief and disbelief.

You collapsed onto the couch, still in your black dress. Joshua sat on the floor in front of you, his suit rumpled, his tie undone, holding your hand tightly as if you were his last lifeline. His eyes searched yours, filled with sorrow and something close to desperation. "Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked, his voice a whisper but laden with the weight of his pain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze at first, the tears spilling down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Even though you had expected this, even though you had imagined it in your worst nightmares every night for weeks, it still felt impossible. How could Jina be gone?

Slowly, you nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to speak. "Since the surgery," you choked out between sobs. You lowered your head, resting it on your knees, while Joshua’s head dropped into your hand, both of you clinging to the last vestiges of each other as the world fell apart.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why didn’t you let me prepare?"

"I couldn’t," you replied, the words barely making it out through your tears. "I couldn’t bear to say it out loud... not to you."

Joshua’s grip on your hand tightened as his body shook with silent sobs. "So you’ve been counting down to this day?" His voice was raw, filled with disbelief and heartache.

You nodded again, unable to stop the flood of tears. "Everything I did... was for her. I didn’t want to burden you with the truth, not when there was a chance..." Your words trailed off into the weight of your grief.

For a long moment, you both sat there, entwined in each other's pain, crying for the daughter you loved more than anything, for the future that was now gone, for the emptiness that Jina's absence left behind.

Joshua's head rested against your hand, and for once, you let yourself cry together with him, no walls, no shields, just the raw and unrelenting agony of loss. There were no words that could fix this, no actions that could bring her back.

You still remembered the moment the doctor delivered the devastating news. Jina’s condition was worsening rapidly, her lungs failing. "She needs a donor immediately," the doctor had said, his expression grave. "But even with a donor, her body won’t recover more than 50%. It would only extend her life by a few months."

Those words had shattered you. But instead of collapsing under the weight of grief, you had shifted into survival mode, planning out every detail. You formulated a plan, almost like a business pitch in your head—asking Joshua to be the donor for Jina and ensuring that her last months were spent together as a family.

You approached Joshua on the day he found out about Jina, masked in calmness, hiding your desperation. You asked him to be the donor, and to your relief, he agreed without hesitation. Everything seemed to fall into place—Joshua moved back in, you created a life that felt, for once, complete. But all the while, you knew time was ticking.

Seungcheol had been the one to snap you out of your delusions, his blunt words slapping reality into you. "You need to accept that Jina wants to live a full life with both of her parents," he had said, his voice firm but understanding. "She deserves that. You both do."

That was when you accepted Joshua’s offer to move in together. You knew it wasn’t just for Jina—it was for you too. Jina’s happiness in her final days became your only priority. You spent your days like a family, and for everyone else, it looked like a dream come true. But every passing moment felt like walking through hell for you, knowing that Jina’s time was running out.

Every night, after you put Jina to bed and Joshua retreated to his room, you would sit in the darkness and cry, trying to hold on to every precious second. You could feel the inevitability of her leaving you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Joshua the truth about how close the end really was.

Jina had been happy. She got the life she wanted, with her two parents by her side, filling her days with laughter and love. But for you, it was a torturous countdown. Every tick of the clock reminded you that this family, this life, would soon shatter.

You held it together for her. You played the role, smiled through the pain, and made sure Joshua never suspected how deep your sorrow ran. And now, sitting in the empty house, that silence pressed down on you. You had given Jina everything you could, but the ache of her absence was more than you could bear.

After Jina’s passing, the house was cloaked in an oppressive silence. The once lively and joy-filled rooms now seemed hollow, echoing with the absence of her laughter. You found Joshua in the kitchen, his face drawn and tired. He had been trying to hold everything together, for Jina and for you, but the weight of loss had become too heavy to bear alone.

You approached him quietly, a lump in your throat. "Joshua," you began softly, your voice trembling, "the role of being Jina's parent... it’s over now. We both did everything we could for her, and she’s no longer with us."

Joshua’s eyes filled with pain, but he nodded slowly. "I know. It’s just hard to let go."

"I understand," you said, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. "But now it’s time for us to return to who we were before all of this began. We have to face reality."

Joshua’s gaze was distant, as if he was still trying to process everything. "And what about us? What do we do now?"

The heaviness in the room was almost suffocating as you stood there, Joshua’s hand still in yours. His grip tightened, as though he could feel something slipping away.

“There’s no ‘us’ in the present, Joshua,” you said softly, pulling your hand away. Your voice was steady, but the words felt like sharp edges, cutting through the fragile connection that had formed between you both in the past few months. "No ‘us’ without Jina."

Joshua blinked, his face crumpling slightly as the truth of your words hit him. “But we’ve been—”

“There’s no point in pretending,” you interrupted, your voice wavering but firm. “Everything we did, everything we built these last few months... it was for Jina. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing holding us together anymore.”

Joshua stood still, his breath catching as he looked at you, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. “I love you, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice thick with desperation. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I can't stop loving you.”

You froze, his words like an old wound being torn open. You looked down at the floor, the weight of his love too heavy, too late. The silence between you was deafening, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes with a sadness you couldn’t mask. “I lost my sense to love you the same again when you told me to leave years ago, Joshua,” you said quietly, each word carrying the weight of the past. “When you pushed me away, that’s when it all broke. And I don’t think I can find that part of myself again.”

Joshua’s face crumpled with guilt and regret, his shoulders sagging as he absorbed the truth. “I didn’t mean to... I was scared, I was confused—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your voice gentle but firm. “But it doesn’t change what happened. We can’t undo the pain we caused each other. We’ve both lost so much. I don’t have the strength to go back and try to fix us.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t move, didn’t try to argue. He just nodded slowly, as though he had finally accepted the truth that had been looming over both of you.

"I wish things could be different," Joshua whispered.

“So do I,” you whispered back, the finality of your words settling in the air between you.

Joshua watched the video in silence, his hands trembling slightly as he held the phone. The screen flickered with a memory that wasn’t his own, but one that pierced through his heart like a knife. The video showed you recording Jina on the beach during a sunny weekend. Her small hands sifted through the golden sand, her laughter ringing out like a melody against the backdrop of crashing waves.

Your voice came through the speakers, bright and warm, filled with an unmistakable love. “Are you happy, Jina?” you asked, the camera focusing on her tiny face lit up with joy.

Jina giggled, a sound so innocent and pure that it felt like a balm and a wound all at once. “I’ve never been this happy, Mom!” she exclaimed, tossing sand into the air in celebration.

Joshua couldn’t help but smile faintly at her enthusiasm, but his chest tightened as the moment unfolded.

Then came her next words—words that felt like a punch to the gut. “I could’ve died!” Jina declared, her small arms flailing dramatically.

Your voice faltered in the video, turning hoarse as you gently scolded her. “Don’t say that, Jina. It’s not a nice word.”

The weight in your tone was evident, even through the recording, and Joshua felt it too—a mixture of fear, protectiveness, and sorrow.

On the screen, Jina’s expression softened, and she stared directly at the camera, her small lips forming a pout. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice small and sincere.

Joshua felt his tears begin to fall, hot and unchecked, as he watched her. The sight of her—the way she wrinkled her nose in apology, her innocent smile shining like the sun—was too much to bear.

“I’m just so happy with you and Daddy here that I think I could’ve died,” Jina added, her voice brighter now, as if she wanted to reassure you. Then she raised her tiny hand as if making a solemn vow. “But I promise I won’t actually die, Mom!”

Joshua’s vision blurred as the tears came harder, streaking his face and dripping onto his hands. He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, but it was no use.

On the screen, Jina beamed at the camera, her small frame outlined by the golden rays of the sun. She was radiant, alive, and so full of promise.

“Jina,” Joshua whispered, his voice breaking. His little angel. His light. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—she had found her home, her happiness, her peace. And yet, he was still strayed, lost in a storm of his own making.

The video ended, but the sound of her laughter lingered in his mind, echoing like a prayer.

*

"I can raise her alone," you insisted, your voice steady but filled with underlying desperation. You were sitting across from Seungcheol in the quiet of your dimly lit living room. It was late, but the weight of the conversation felt heavier than the silence of the night.

Seungcheol, ever pragmatic, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Yes, you can,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “But are you really going to ignore what the doctor said? Jina needs a donor as soon as possible, Y/n. There’s no one else—only her father.”

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “He hurt me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The memories of Joshua’s rejection and the pain he left you with resurfaced, raw and unhealed.

Seungcheol’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he stood and walked over to you. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and steady. “I know,” he murmured, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. “I know he hurt you. But he’s still her father, Y/n. And right now, Jina needs him. That’s the only way to save her.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as the magnitude of the situation hit you. For a long moment, you let yourself lean into Seungcheol’s support, the sound of his heartbeat steadying your own chaotic thoughts. His words lingered, piercing through your pain: This is the only way.

After what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, you pulled back and nodded. “Okay,” you said quietly, your voice trembling but resolute. “Let’s do it. Prepare whatever I need to get this started.”

Seungcheol’s face brightened with determination. “Good,” he said firmly, already moving into action. He reached into his bag and pulled out a folder, handing it to you. “Here’s everything you need. I’ll coordinate the rest. I’ve already asked Chan to assist you during this time. I’ll brief him myself.”

Your gaze fell on the cover of the folder, and the bold letters stared back at you like a challenge: The Hong Joshua Project.

It felt clinical, impersonal even, but you knew this was no ordinary task—it was the fight for Jina’s life. You flipped through the pages, scanning the meticulous plans Seungcheol had outlined, and you felt a surge of gratitude for him. He had always been there, a constant source of strength and clarity in your life.

Seungcheol placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, grounding you. “Listen to me, Y/n,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “This is going to be hard. A very hard journey. You’ll need to push aside your emotions, your pride, and everything else you’re feeling—for Jina’s sake. But I promise you, I’ll be right here. I’ve got your back, just like I always have.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Memories of all the times Seungcheol had stepped in to support you flooded your mind. He wasn’t just a brother— he was a bestfriend, family, a lifeline, and you knew you could trust him with anything.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “For everything.”

Seungcheol smiled faintly, his grip on your shoulders tightening briefly in reassurance. “Now,” he said, stepping back and gesturing to the folder in your hands, “this project starts today. Let’s save her.”

And with those words, the weight of the task ahead settled over you. It wasn’t going to be easy—nothing about this would be. But for Jina, for the little girl who was your entire world, you would endure anything. Even if it meant facing the man who had broken your heart.

[bigfriedbassoon]

I’m adding my bit because I think while this interpretation of Gertrude’s speech is interesting, it does tacitly discount that this is still Gertrude opportunistically projecting onto Ophelia, freely manipulating her corpse, and rewriting her story, something she does in every interaction she has with Ophelia.

I reject that it is Ophelia’s particular destiny to die; we’re all going to the same dust heap as Alexander, Yorick et al. Bringing predetermination in lets a lot of guilty parties off the hook.

Ophelia is free, and lives to taste freedom. Unlike Hamlet, she is completely liberated by the death of her father. In Act IV she is freer than anyone else, liberated from rhetorical logic and the constraints of the court. She commands the King’s audience at her whim, she can discuss sex and folk knowledge openly without the euphemisms Gertrude has to resort to in the willow speech.

But when Ophelia is dead, Gertrude may assert that she was a victim “incapable of her own distress”, betrayed by “envious slivers” of wood, whose clothes are “heavy with drink” and cannot be shed in time to protect her from drowning.

(Never mind that when Ophelia is dead, Laertes has nothing to live for and becomes even more likely to kill Hamlet despite Claudius’s faint objections that the rage he had to soothe will get to be unmanageable once more. That’s all incidental and would be quite rude to point out.)

According to Gertrude, the whole world seems to have risen up to swallow Ophelia and nobody could stop it, least of all a Queen.

This is a moment which is often characterized as beautiful without real evaluation. When I read this speech and try to divorce it from the 400 years of art that reinforces the imagery of Ophelia’s death, I find it no more beautiful than the King Hamlet’s reporting of his own death and crappy afterlife. I think the willow speech is ugly and cruel, self serving and short. Gertrude reports Ophelia’s death in ninety seconds or less. Gertrude “will not speak with her” in life and only uses this speech to mute her- what songs was Ophelia singing?

Ophelia does not find peace. Who can say she is interested in peace? She is silenced.

From Gertrude’s reporting, We don’t even really know the particulars of Ophelia’s “muddy death” even if we know everything else. Laertes, shocked and reeling after the vivid description of the scene — Gertrude’s purple response to his simple question of Where did my sister die?— has to prompt Gertrude to reconfirm Ophelia is “drowned”, but Gertrude doesn’t explain further. It’s true we don’t know if Ophelia actually struggled or not, though if the “glassy stream” was clear enough to reflect the willow tree before then it seems something must have kicked up silt.

(We don’t know if Ophelia wanted to die. Gertrude implies suicide loudly enough that her death becomes “doubtful” and her burial on hallowed ground is widely perceived as a simony meant to assuage the guilt of the royal family. Would it be distasteful to point out how this supposed mercy keeps Laertes in the King’s debt?)

All we know is “pretty Ophelia” was loud and inconvenient yesterday, but today the “poor wretch” is dead and tomorrow (at the funeral) she might have been a suitable wife for a Prince.

Like everyone else in the play, Gertrude sacrifices this girl and her memory for the sake of self interest. Like all the painters who choose Ophelia as their subject in the next few centuries, her awful death is made into a fascinating symbol to serve someone else’s purpose or meaning. Maybe about hysteria, maybe about the patriarchy, never about Ophelia. Somehow this is beautiful. Somehow this is powerful, but for whom?

The truth is plain; there is no dignity in death and there’s no true escape in it, except for the guilty and beguiled who yet live. Ophelia dies of neglect, without anybody who is willing to defend her before or after. That’s what this speech tells us, no matter how you spin it: your sister’s dead, there’s nothing I could do, she brought it on herself.

And in Elsinore, funeral fare is repurposed to wedding banquet.

just saw the most brilliant version of hamlet i’ve ever seen, and while i’ve already gushed about it to everyone in earshot, i have to talk about Ophelia’s death more. the way this production did it permanently changed how i view the scene, and god it’s good.

in the text, Ophelia sings her songs, hands out her flowers, says good bye, and leaves. Gertrude follows and returns later with the news that Ophelia has drowned. She describes a beautiful image to Laertes of his sister, floating in a river, singing her songs, with flowers all around her (see: my pfp). Beautiful even in death.

but in this production I just saw? Gertrude lies. we get to see the truth of Ophelia’s death. it’s not a beautiful thing, but ugly, clawing, sobbing, drinking, and “drowning” her sorrows in alcohol and pills. And only Gertrude knows. and she spins a tale of comfort, telling Ophelia’s brother of her beauty, making her last moments seem peaceful and perfect.

as women, dragged through the story, expected to be beautiful and perfect, I think perhaps Ophelia and Gertrude found a bit of themselves in each other. I think Gertrude knows pretending to be beautiful and perfect all too well. that she too finds herself in the ugly, sobbing moments. that we see her in these moments. but she knows how to smooth things over and make them look beautiful. so she does.

I always found it interesting how Ophelia was beautiful in death. how her final scene finally let her break and be something other than perfect and graceful, but then her death was beautiful. but if it’s a lie? well, that changes everything. and i love it.

[jjsloverre]

after school -j.m

pairing: nerd!jj x popular!reader

in which… nerd!jj finally gets the courage to ask out popular!reader after she was forced to be his study buddy.

includes… cursing, a TINY bit of smut, handjob, fluff, overall cuteness 🤭

__________________________________________________________

it wasn’t shocking that jj looked at you everywhere you went. people would consider the nerd boy obsessed with you, the most popular girl in school. you never noticed him until your history class.

your teacher, mr. davis forced you to have a tutor because you were failing tremendously. and of course, jj already found a way to be your tutor. “you need to pass with a ‘c’ or higher or you are failing my class do you understand y/n?”

“fuck me…” you mumbled to yourself as mr. davis showed you your tutor. “who is this?” you asked. “don’t be rude y/n. this is jj maybank and he’ll be your tutor for the next two weeks.” you roll your eyes and reluctantly sat beside him. “i’m not studying at this stupid ass school, we can go to my house after school, don’t get any ideas.” you told jj straight up.

“l-like in your bedroom…?” he stuttered. you laughed at his nervousness. “no, i have a library in there to find all those shitty books about history or whatever.” he nodded. “so um.. im jj.” you rolled your eyes. “yeah i get that now.”

time skip…

jj showed up at your house as promised. you led him to your personal library. you both sat down as he tried to teach you whatever he was talking about. your eyes were wandering until you saw a large bulge poking out his pants. you immediately stopped him from talking more.

“yeah yeah no more of that.” jj looked confused. “did i say something wrong?” you shook your head no, and look down at his pants for him to also realize. once he does his cheeks deepened to a bright red. “s-sorry— i’ll take care of it—” you cut him off quickly. “or let me?”

jj didn’t realize it was even possible for him to grow harder in his jeans just from the words coming out of your mouth. “i never realized how good looking you are until i finally looked closely at you.” you kissed his neck and he moaned heavenly. “i-i’ve never done this before…” you lean up to kiss him. “yeah, i can tell.”

you palmed his hardening cock more and more until he started to jerk, a damp spot coming in his jeans. “jj did you cum already?” you ask. he shook his head no. “no- no i didn’t, it just feels s’good…” he gives you heavenly kisses to your forehead, to calm himself down. “here, let’s take care of it, shall we?”

he quickly nodded. “yes ma’am..” you took his dick out, it was big— bigger than you imagined with a little curve. your mouth watered at the sight. “i-is there something wrong?” he asked, his head resting on yours. “no, not at all.” you reassure him. “okay..” with that, you stroked him, slowly to tease. his tip leaking with precum. he looked so beautiful, you kiss his cheek and move your hands faster and faster.

“t-too much…” jj whined. “no, you got it jj, cmon you can take it.” you encouraged. he pulled you in for a hungry kiss, you gladly kissed him back. to you, he tasted like heaven. he moaned into the kiss, his balls drawing up tight. “i think i’m cumming! shit i’m cumming!” he screamed. you held your tongue out as spurts of cum erupted from his dick. he thrust into your hand until he was empty. you caught as much of his delicious release as you could.

“that- thats so hot..” he said, catching his breath. “you’re really cute jj.” you told him. he blushed and kissed your cheek. “do you… maybe want to go on a date? or you know? anything like that?” you cupped his cheek, kissing him between your words. “i would love to. now that all that is over, wanna continue studying?”

he nods, and hugs you. “i do a little, i’m happy you said yes.” you smile up at him, kissing him again. “i’m glad you asked me out jj.”

___________________________________________________________

a/n: i enjoyed writing this, should i do more parts of their date and potentially their first time?

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @ethanthequeefqueen @aaliyahsturniolo @sophand4n4

[always-just-red]

hi rach ♡ for the christmas prompts, can i request zayne and 04? (and i hope you're having a good week! ♡)

Hiiii! Hope you're having a good week too, thanks for the request! 🥰💕 ALSO everyone say a big thank you to Rafayel, who had to physically restrain me throughout the writing of this fic for the safety of our dear doctor! No writing would have been done!!! 😇

A New Patient

Zayne x Reader ❄️

Prompt #014: on an ice rink, careful to dodge the bustling crowd that stumble and rush past.

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, super minor injury, a lil bit of PDA and a pinch of suggestion at the end (Zayne can't help it-- look at you!!!)

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne! Zayne! Look, no hands!”

Mittened fingers wave in front of the doctor’s face, having finally— after a slow twenty minutes— left the ice rink’s railing. Clad in skates, your feet are still threatening to slip out from underneath you, even more so as you make your humble boast, and you wobble precariously.

Zayne chuckles, reaching to help steady your balance. “Impressive.”

“Right? Anyway, let go! I’ve so got this!”  

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent. Unhand me, sir.”

“As you command.”

His grip on you slips away as he takes an overtly confident step back. He’s sporting the same, enthralled smile of disbelief that lit-up the moment you set foot on the ice. The grace with which you evade and strike down Wanderers? Gone. The calm competence you employ when stitching a wound under his instruction? Gone.

The only thing you’ve managed to hold onto is sheer, near-delusional stubbornness, and Gods, he adores it. His silly, self-destructive Deepspace Hunter. He’s never been gladder to be a doctor; at this rate, you will be needing one.

A couple skate past you, giving you a wide berth, like the rest of the crowd on the rink. Zayne is acting as a sort of barrier, but he doesn’t really need to. You’re getting the same courtesy paid to you as the children here: space for mistakes. Space to slip over without taking anyone down with you.

Not far away, a man loses his footing, landing straight on his ass. He laughs unashamedly. You and Zayne both beam at him. See? It could be worse. Miraculously, you haven’t actually fallen o—

Something careens through your legs, and the next thing you know, you’ve crashed to the ice and you’re staring up at the sky, winded. Your breath aches as it comes back.

Zayne is saying your name: leaning over you, and— is he trying not to laugh?! His hand is over his mouth, but his eyes are creased so obviously. A single scrape in battle is worth making a fuss over, but this is funny? Nope. Nuh-uh. Get up, you have to kill him.

Just as you’re sitting up, rubbing your head, you spot the culprit of your fall. A little girl is slumped across from you, having similarly skittered down to the ice. Her eyes are wide with shock, and the second she meets your gaze she wails— sobs and cries stuttering out of her throat. Your blood goes cold.

“I’m so sorry!” exclaims a woman who has waddled frantically over to you, and the girl cries louder.

“It’s quite all right,” Zayne reassures, and is it? Is it really? “Accidents happen.”

The girl’s mother lowers herself, cooing and comforting, but the child is having none of it. Tears run down her puffy red cheeks. Snot leaks from her nose. Maybe you should start acting out too. I mean, you’re the victim here— hello?!

Zayne speaks from above you: “Here, allow me.”

Ever the angel on your shoulder, whispering into your ear; your valiant doctor stoops down beside you. He’s not even looking at you, but the sedative of his bedside manner still seeps through your aching body, inducing a sort of sleepiness.

The girl hasn’t stopped crying, and Zayne puts his hands together: ethereal, sparkling snowflakes emanating from between his palms. Still committed to the bit, the girl sniffles, but one eye is open, peeking: what is he—?

Zayne lifts one hand, and nestled in the other is a little, familiar snow seal. The girl gasps in delight.

“This is my friend,” Zayne smiles, indicating the creature. “Do you like him?”

The girl nods eagerly with another long sniff, captivated.

Zayne puts the seal to his ear. “Ah,” he nods, squinting thoughtfully as though he’s listening, “yes. I understand.” He turns back to the girl. “My friend would like to know if you are feeling all right. He asks—” he consults the seal again— “he asks if anything is broken?”

“I don’t think so,” the girl answers, shaking her head. Her voice wobbles with earnestness: she is very determined to not worry Mr Seal.

“Wonderful.” Zayne continues to translate: “Are you all in one piece? Do you have all your arms? Your legs?”

You think your heart is going to explode; the girl actually checks. “Yes!” she chirps.

“And your head?”

The girl’s hands fly up to her face. “Yes!” she confirms again.

Zayne nods, pleased. One last consultation with the seal, and... “My friend is very happy that you’re okay, but he’s still a little bit worried. Do you think he could stay with you? That you could look after him for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” the girl squeals, hands extended— reaching out. “Please!”

Her mother laughs, and Zayne chuckles too. Carefully, he sets the snow seal into the hands that are grasping towards him. The girl holds it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Her eyes are twinkling with awe and adoration. “I love him!” she squeals again. “I love him, I love him, I love him!” The seal is lifted so she can stare directly into its eyes. “I’m going to call you… Mr Fluffykins!”

It’s no Clopidogrel.

“That’s a very good name,” Zayne grins. “I think he likes it a lot.”

The girl’s mother helps her daughter up from the ice, although she doesn’t get any thanks; the child is babbling away in conversation with Mr Fluffykins, thoroughly enamoured. “Thank you,” the woman smiles gratefully at Zayne.

“It was no trouble,” he assures.

Was it no trouble? Neglected, forgotten— you cross your arms as your attacker is escorted away. Crouched before you, Zayne finally returns your gaze with a soft and dazzling smile. You won’t be charmed by it. “So,” you huff, “you’re just making seals for anyone nowadays, huh?”

He chuckles fondly, regardless of your pouted lips and wounded, narrowed eyes. “Would you like one as well?”

“No.”

“Good.” Good? He has some nerve, and no wonder an open chest cavity doesn’t faze him, for he leans in daringly close to whisper: “I don’t like it when other doctors poach my patients.”

His fingers are brushing your forehead, smoothing back a stray hair. “Mr Fluffykins comes highly recommended,” you let out on a weighty breath.

“Mr Fluffykins is overworked. Inundated with patients, I hear. So tell me…” His lips peck your cheek. “Is anything broken?”

“Everything.”

“I see.” Another kiss, on the tip of your nose. “And your limbs... all still attached?”

Your eyes have closed so you can savour the not-knowing of where each touch might come next. You smile, tilting your head to nod backwards: “One of my legs are over there.”

Zayne is grinning too. You can’t see it, but you feel it as his lips graze yours, not quite a kiss this time.

“How about it, Doctor Zayne?” You open your eyes as he draws back, and your smile is as dangerous as a beating, still-bleeding heart, at the mercy of his hands. “Think you can save me?”

He gently rises to his feet, steady on his skates as he reaches towards you. “I think,” he says, as you grasp his hand and haul yourself up, only to be trapped in his arms, against his chest with his lips by your ear, “we both know I can.”

[withlovemark]

you were never mine

warning(s): none

pairing: minho x reader

words: 400+

an: hi friends, anyone here watched xo kitty? i know this is a little different from your usual steve harrington fics but i cant get this cutie out of my mind, i had to write something :)

summary: minho's on tour and you're a back up dancer on tour with minho's brother. you are also minho's childhood friend turned best friends (with benefits). but thats all there ever is! really!

-

hands entangled in the hair of the boy towering above you, lips in sync, minho's warm hands leaves a burning sensation around your waist as he pulls you in closer and closer - the feeling of want escalating throughout the enclosed space of his hotel room. sounds of his tiny whines and grunts occupying every second of your headspace, until… 

“kitty-”

you quickly push him away, halting every movement. silence. 

“what did you say?,” you asked, in shock of the name that slipped past his lips. 

“i-i said…pretty,” minho stumbles over his words for a second before his confidence returns, standing his ground and twisting reality. 

“you’re joking right?,” you let out a sigh, sitting up at the edge of his bed as he quietly joins you, slightly afraid. 

sitting side by side, you decide to end his torment, playfully nudging your shoulder against his “i knew you still liked her,” you giggled and he lets out a sigh of release, quiet laughter mixing in with yours.  

“i’m in trouble aren’t i?,” his shoulders droop down, looking like a defeated puppy, awaiting your answer.

“why don’t you tell her?” you suggest to the broken hearted boy beside you. 

“i already did that remember,” he reminds you. 

“how could i forget?...you facetimed me as you were leaving the plane and complained for a straight six hours about how much she’s missing out and that you’re the best there ever is and blah blah blah” you smiled at the memory, remembering the sadness in his voice, one that he tried so hard to mask off by playing it cool. 

“it was actually five,” he corrects you, the two of you bursting into another fit of giggles. 

“i also remember,” you say as the laughter dies down, “that you confessed to her literally the same day she broke up with dae,” you remind him. 

“yeah, and?...she still rejected me,” he argues back. 

“well, time can change things y’know?,” you point out, “but this thing between us is not gonna help you get the girl,” you continue, catching his attention. 

you knew that if you really wanted your best friend to be happy, you would have to spell this out for him.

“are you giving me away?” he playfully smirks, eyes on yours, as gentle as ever. 

“you were never mine,” a quiet laughter escapes your lips, replaced by a sad smile. a snap back to reality that this - this thing between the two of you, was never meant to be. 

pressing one last gentle kiss on his lips, you savor the feeling, completely aware that it's over. 

“friends?,” you whisper against his lips, forehead against his. 

“friends.” he agrees, pulling away and sharing a smile of recognition.

his heart belonged to someone else and just like every other kiss with him, there were no butterflies in your stomach flying around when his lips touches yours.

but still, it was good.

it was safe and comfortable, and completely…over. you tell yourself. 

-

an: im such a kittyminho shipper im not letting you have him. sorry! requests are open for minho fics! thank you for reading<3

[itsabouttimex2]

Fizzling Neon

“…can I tell you something that bothers me?”

There’s not quite a sneer on your coworker’s face, but the expression he wears while turning to you is regardless unhappy. The man’s never much cared for your rambles, and especially not while the two of you were on kitchen duty.

Then, he’s never much cared for you in general.

But if he has to choose between his own thoughts (centering mostly on his ex-wife, if you had to guess) your awkward ramblings, or a droning and dead silence that was cut only by Chica’s muffled gorging, the gray-haired man would probably pick you, though he would do so reluctantly.

Very reluctantly.

“Well?” the aged man finally grunts, arms crossed as he leans back against the counter. His tense posture screams impatience, but at least he’s waiting for you to say something instead of outright ignoring you. “What is it?”

You hesitate, unsure if you should bother, even with his explicit approval. Your coworker doesn’t like you- he’s made that clear enough over the past four months. Still, there’s something gnawing at you, something you need to get off your chest before it eats you alive. A rattling clatter of pots and pans kicks up in the washing area, accompanied by incessant crunching noises- the avian animatronic must’ve gotten into an unfinished dish.

You don’t want to sound like some manic conspiracy theorist, of course- that type pops up on the premises of the Pizzaplex constantly, filming themselves as they harangue the workers and scare the children- only to scurry away when you pleaded with Monty to scare them off- the kids always got a kick out of that, at least.

Still, all antics aside… maybe talking about it would do you some good.

“…it doesn’t make any sense for them to be animatronics.”

He turns to you, sporting an expression that implies you may well have grown a second head, utterly dumbfounded by such an out of pocket (to him) statement.

His brows knit together tightly, lips twisting into a grimace that makes him look even less pleasant than he already does. “What in the blazing hell are you even talking about?” he finally asks, his voice a low growl that barely carries over the distant clang of metal on tile as Chica shuffles around.

You squirm for a moment, then spill in a hurried rush of words built around cobbled knowledge from your childhood.

“It’s just… these are… they’re robots. And, animatronics are, well, they… animatronics- real animatronics, I mean, they’re- they’re puppets! Animatronics are supposed to be puppets hooked to machinery hidden in the ground, machines that host the puppet’s programming for the routines they perform! They’re supposed to be fragile, breakable! You’re supposed to be able to shatter them, shove them around, pick them up and throw them- in case they break down and block people in an emergency! Or, or like… the design specs, in general, they’re- so like, if an animatronic closes around a kid’s hands, the design specs of these things are specifically built to be fragile enough to never exert enough force to hurt the kid! They’re not supposed to be able to move arcade machines, or jostle vending machines, or pick up kids! And-“

“You know what, kid? And I’m gonna be real level with you, just cause I don’t think the management bothers doing it when they really should- nobody gives half a damn about your autist bullshit. They were always called animatronics. From the first fucking pizzeria to the last pissing pizzaplex, they were animatronics, puppets, machines, and no one except for you gives a shit about the name they use. And look, you wanna obsess over this crap, fine. Just don’t bring it up with me again. Got enough on my plate without babysitting your paranoia about trivial corpo branding bullshit.”

He throws his soiled dishrag against the metal interior of the sink before him, then stomps off towards the staff room in order to punch out and head home, probably hoping to down a fifth of whiskey and pass out.

You stand there in shocked silence for a moment, throat tight and eyes growing wet, trying to compose yourself as the angry pounding of his footsteps fades away.

It hurts. You wish it didn’t hurt so bad, especially when the scorn comes from someone you don’t particularly know or care for, someone you know doesn’t particularly care for you.

You want to shove those painful feelings away, because you know if you dwell on it too long, you’ll start spiraling, and there’s no one here who wants to listen- not without mocking you or brushing you off.

Except- the sound of metal footsteps breaks your train of thought, and those steps are heavy and deliberate, echoing through the empty kitchen. You freeze, pulse quickening, because it’s late, nearly time to close, and you’re very certainly the last person in the pizzaplex.

“Oh, Superstar…”

His voice, as always, is smooth and warm, carrying an affectionate tone that he usually reserves for children. You don’t need to turn around to know who that soothing voicebox belongs to.

You swallow, hard, gripping the edge of the kitchen countertop as the sound of metal feet against porcelain grows louder. He’s close now, just behind you, and you feel the subtle hum of his mechanical frame, a strange, ever-present vibration that seems to radiate from him, and you are awash in the cyan hue that drifts from his mechanical body.

Glamrock Freddy.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out at first. There’s a lump buried deep in your throat, and with it there’s a fear that if you try to explain yourself, you might break down entirely.

Freddy waits, a patience so unshakable it mirrors the steel he’s built from.

And he waits a little longer still, right up until there are tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill, and then one of his large paws reaches to bundle around the back of your head, holding it there as though he’s cradling something fragile, something precious.

At his gentle, synthetic touch your lips press tightly together, unwilling to speak for risk of breaking a dam that spills regardless, and as the first of many tears trickle down your cheek, Freddy’s thumb; soft with synthetic padding, swipes it from your face.

“That was very unkind of him, Superstar. I will be sure to report his behavior to management, for it is in violation of the rules of the Mega Pizzaplex.”

“N-no, Freddy, it’s fine. Really… really, it’s fine, and I don’t want to cause any trouble.

The ursine machine, so many warmth welling behind his eyes that the kitchen feels cold in comparison, he tilts his head, his illuminated blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly, not in anger but in something softer- concern, and to some degree even disbelief. He doesn’t move the heft of his hand, still cradling your head with the care of someone holding glass. “It is not fine,” he insists gently, voicebox unwavering. “Everyone within the Pizzaplec must treat one another with respect. The rules are very clear.”

A bitter laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “Yeah, well, rules don’t really stop people from being jerks, do they? Just… just please let it go, Freddy. It’s not worth it.”

There is a long, lingering moment where he continues to stare, eye lights drooped at your insistence on allowing things to be. But, finally, he lowers his hand, though his frame remains close, looming like a shield against the sterile, fluorescent lights kitchen. “Your feelings are worth it, Superstar,” he says after a beat. “But I will not push.”

Then he pauses, awkward and almost ashamed, then kneels to level his gaze to your own, and quietly speaks. “And I did not mean to eavesdrop on the staff, but I did overhear the management speaking to one another about the weather.

Oh. Oh no.

“So I wanted to tell you that a snowstorm is predicted, and, on behalf of the Pizzaplex, I wanted to extend you an invitation to stay overnight, since you do not have a way to get home if the bus is out.”

Oh, Cassie was going to be devastated.

Freddy straightens up at your lack of apparent response, his hulking frame towering over you once more, though his demeanor remains calm. “I spoke to the daycare attendant about preparing a bed for you- his residence has many cozy spots, and I believe you will find it suitable.”

You cringe when he mentions the daycare, snapping your thoughts from the soon to be birthday girl.

The attendant's dual personalities were a lot to handle during even just the day- but Moon's presence at night, especially, would be downright unnerving. But Freddy, gentle and unyielding, he turns you around with his big paws and nudges you towards the kitchen’s entrance.

The white doors swing open as Freddy pushes you past them, and the sounds of the nearly silent Pizzaplex greet you. The faint hum of machines powering down for the night drifts through the air, and the glittering lights of arcade machines flicker in the distance, while the mascots painted on the walls seem to grin down at you with their smiles.

It dawns on you now, staring up at the acrylic likeness of the lead animatronic that you hadn’t said yes to his offer, hadn’t quite stuck yourself through with the promise of a full night with the daycare attendant… and with Freddy going in the opposite direction, no doubt heading to his own room for the night… well, there wasn’t exactly anyone around to ensure that your footfall led you to the ever-unnerving nursery.

And, for that matter, a revelation dawning quickly upon you- you didn’t even know if the weather had started turning for the worse. If the storm was so bad that it would put out the local bus, sure, then you might not have a choice. But a light sprinkle wouldn’t kill you, and the lost and found wouldn’t mind you “borrowing” a jacket or scarf.

You turn toward the far end of the Pizzaplex, where the staff exit looms. You could just… check for yourself. There’s a strange, dread pang in your chest like the bite of an icicle, the notion that you might be caught going off-course, then returned to your path like an errant child.

Freddy surely wouldn’t mind you only checking out the window, would he?

Definitely not.

But still you step lightly, shoes squeaking faintly against the polished floor as the exit grew nearer and nearer. The Pizzaplex, as well as you've grown to know it, comes to feel unnaturally large when it’s this quiet- without at least a dozen children to draw your attention from the winding halls and the sprawling white floor, sometimes the place feels more like a labyrinth than a glorified daycare.

Though the twin doors come into reach without obstruction, there's still a prickling sense of unease that crawls the length of your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you reach for the silver handles.

Just a peek isn't going to hurt anyone, you tell yourself with a measure of false confidence.

It does not stop the trembling chill that races your heart to pump erratically as you make the move to push the doors open, and your skin grows colder still at the sight before you.

Snowflakes.

Fluffy, chunky snowflakes, cascading from the sky in a relentless flurry, the parking lot and roads already blanketed in white. The wind howls, biting and sharp. The city looks almost like a desolate tundra, smeared in thick strokes of white. The last bus is nowhere to be seen, likely sent back to the station early to avoid the storm.

You pull harshly on the doors, snapping them shut to prevent a gale wind from blowing through, to prevent snow from spilling onto the tile, and then you turn back, resigning yourself to a long night in the daycare, and then there’s a flicker of movement in the reflection of the chilled glass. You freeze, breath hitching sharply.

Slowly, you turn around, expecting to see Freddy or perhaps one of the staff bots patrolling the area.

And there is no one around.

Not that you can see, at least.

But the sound -faint, metallic clicking- tells you something is near. It’s sharply deliberate, like the tapping of long nails against glass.

And then a gangly shadow falls over you, dragging half of a shriek out of your lips right before you slap your hands over them.

Your head snaps up, eyes wide, and there, in a fluid arc of motion, leaping from the ceiling, is Moon, his painted grin wide and unsettlingly toothy in the dim lighting. He cast an eerie silhouette across the room as he lands upright with barely a thud, tilting his head to regard you.

“Why are you out of bed?”

“I was just…”, you start to say, but the words catch in your throat as he draws nearer. “I was only…”

“You know it’s against the rules to wander, don’t you?”

Your heart races as you stumble back, desperate to put distance between yourself and the unsettling animatronic. For all that you (and perhaps none but you and Cassie shared this feeling) had a soft spot for Sun, there was no denying that Moon had grown strange of late, often over-bolstering his “child-caring protocols”, to the terror of his many, many charges. Too often you had to step in and watch over them in his place just to ensure the kids would get some measure of sleep.

“I-I… no, i was just… just checking the weather,” you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, checking the weather!” he repeats, his tone exaggeratedly bright and overly cheerful, though there’s an unmistakable edge beneath it. “But the rules are very clear- no wandering after hours! And you wouldn’t want to break the rules, would you, Starlight?”

That nickname doesn’t feel the same way that “Superstar” feels, not as warm or bright or genuine.

…but it’s still nice (admittedly less so under these circumstances) to have someone care enough to give you a moniker- and unlike Freddy, who simply maintained that everyone he liked was his special “Superstar”, the lunar half of the daycare attendant was far more reserved with his affections.

If he had let that feeling grow a little longer, that slow drift of bubbling warmth rising around your heart, maybe you wouldn’t have screamed out even past the barriers of your hands as he lunged forward and snagged his thin fingers around each side of your waist.

Instead, you simply shriek and kick.

That doesn’t stop Moon from lifting you slowly, his grip more than firm enough to make escape impossible. He tilts his head, his painted grin never wavering, though there’s something unsettling about the way his glowing red eyes seem to scan every inch of you, as if gauging your intent.

“No screaming,” he chides softly, his voice lowering to a whisper that echoes unnaturally in the empty Pizzaplex. “You’ll wake everyone up. Naughty, naughty.”

Your breath hitches as you struggle against his unyielding grip, your hands clawing uselessly at his smooth, cold arms. Moon holds you aloft effortlessly, his glowing red eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“Please,” you manage to croak, weak voice trembling. “I- I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to cause trouble! I just… I just wanted to see if the storm was bad.”

His metal grin remains fixed, the crescent of his face gleaming faintly in the low light. “Storms are dangerous, Starlight,” he murmurs, his voice mechanical but almost sing-song, and still dripping with a strange condescension. “You could get lost. Hurt. It’s better to stay where things are safe.”

There is an unsteady pulse pounding through your chest now, a staccato rhythm that you’re certain he can sense. His glowing red eyes narrow, and his rictus grin; for all that it is fixed in place by steel, seems to grow wider.

He cradles you closer, the warmth of his metallic hands seeping through your uniform. The hum of his inner workings vibrate faintly, a reminder of the sheer difference between your anatomies. His voice drops lower, head leaning in to hiss lowly in your ear.

“And safe,” he whispers, “means staying close to me, Starlight.”

[lostintransist]

The Boys' Home | Part 5

Part 1 | AO3

The suit, respirator, goggles, gloves combo had you sweating like the devil in church. This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except your in-ear headphones were overheating and not responding to your taps to change the song. Somehow you had been stuck on the same song for damn near forty minutes. It was a good song, don’t get it twisted, but if it didn’t require leaving the house and pulling off all the gear to change the song you would have done it on the third repeat.

With the last of the lathe and plaster removed and swept from the room, you detach the chute from the window. Carefully you strip off the protective gear, clothes soaked with sweat beneath them. The next thing you do is pull your headphones out and pause your music. Sliding between the layers of plastic keeping the dust from invading the house you make your way outside to breathe fresh air.

The boys were all at Lydia Fisher’s house as her grandchildren had finally arrived for the summer stay. You had already confirmed with Lydia that the pizza delivery you were paying for would arrive at five and she would send the boys home at seven. They would absolutely all need a bath before bed.

When you open the front door all of your focus is on laying out the gear to dry over the porch railing. The respirator and the goggles go down easily, the suit gives a wet sound when you snap it to straighten out all the wrinkles. That done you look up and nearly have a heart attack.

“Jesus and a chicken!” Your hand ends up on your chest as you heave in breaths.

Where you had expected empty space stood three of your neighbors, all watching you with various expressions of quandary.

“Why a chicken?” Kyle asked as he shoved one hand into his pocket.

Your brows pull together. “I don’t know, that is what came out of my mouth in a moment of shock.”

He gives a look of acknowledgment and glances at his counterparts.

“Did you guys need something? I’ve been upstairs stripping a bedroom to get insulation and new walls put up.” You brush your hands down your shirt, now quite aware that even in the moist heat your pits, under boob, and groin had yet to dry.

“Wanted to see if there were any neighborhood events we should be aware of,” Johnny spoke up, moseying up to the porch railing and hanging over it to talk to you.

You leaned against the main post, folding your arms as you thought.

“Nothing formal, but every third weekend a few families get together over at my place and we grill and let the kids run wild.” You direct your answers to the group but look mostly at Johnny.

Simon and Kyle step closer, like wolves you had watched on nature documentaries. When they close in you snap your gaze to Kyle and then to Simon. It gets trapped on Simon, the dark pitch of his eyes pulling you in like tar that swallowed ice-age animals whole.

“You need anything, bonnie?”

The hum of question you give is distracted. Turning your face away from Simon, it takes extra effort to drag your gaze to Johnny. Blinking a few times to clear your mind you process what you heard.

“Mmm, don’t think so. Unless you guys can sheet rock and mud a bedroom in under a day?”

Johnny grinned and Kyle chuckled, Simon let out a small huff that could be construed as a laugh.

“Can’t say we know how yet, but we will by the time we are done fixing up our own house,” Kyle smirks up at you.

“Been meaning to ask you about that. Are you all together or just really good friends?” They share a look and you go on, bulldozing past any awkwardness creeping up your body like kudzu. “I only ask because folks around here will talk and if I can head off the rumors your time here will be easier. Lord only knows why I’m their favorite subject.”

“Na, we work together. Military stuff and we find it easier to feel safe when we know there is someone who can watch our back as we rest,” Johnny gives a small smile to the gaps between the porch slats.

Nodding as if you understand, you most assuredly do not, you tuck that information away for your next run-in with any of the town gossips, Cherrie and Marline. They would be after you like hens after a chick when they found out you were now living next door two four presumably eligible, and decidedly, attractive bachelors.

‘What about your everlasting soul? Living so close to such men might tempt you into sin.’ They would always whisper the word sin as if one woman’s boy hadn’t been born out of wedlock and the other hadn’t been caught having an affair ten years back. One of these days you would remind the two of them of what Jesus actually called a sin, and it wasn’t ‘treating your neighbor as yourself’.

“Where are your boys today?” Simon speaks up now, everyone turning to look at him as he stares straight at you.

“They are at the Fisher’s. Lydia’s grandchildren have arrived and we have a standing agreement to timeshare the children until school starts back up,” you grin wide thinking about your boys. “I don’t know if you’ve met them yet, they live in the opposite direction from my house.”

Your former pastor had commented on it once. You didn’t go to church anymore, for too many damn reasons to recall or recount but Pastor Harry had been a good man and reminded you that there were people in the world who practiced what they preached.

“I know you never wanted to be a mom, but those boys? I can see the love you have for them written all over your face when you talk about them. I’m real proud of you for taking them in and fighting for them,” he laid a hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

The quiet comfort and confidence Pastor Harry had given you that day had fueled you for weeks and helped you swat away the nastier comments lobbed your way from parents of your students, the administration, and even the cashier at the local stop and rob.

Looking back to the men standing in the heat of the day you make a decision.

“Why don’t y’all take a seat and I’ll grab us all some sweet tea and ice pops.” Turning around without waiting for an answer you let the screen door slam shut behind you.

When you return the only seat available is next to Simon on the porch swing. Passing each man a refreshment you settle into the cushion and try to toe the swing into motion. When nothing happens you glance at Simon who is staring at your nice glass with something akin to mistrust in his eyes.

“You don’t have to drink it but can you at least lift your feet so I can rock the swing?” The single brow lift seems to do the trick.

“This is delicious!” Johnny cries as he stares down at his glass. “Never got the appeal of hot tea but this? I will miss this when we go back to work.”

The swing begins a soft back-and-forth movement. Glancing down you see Simon’s boot flat on the porch; his thigh bunches and releases in time with the movement.

“What do you think Kyle?” Sipping at your own tea you watch him for an answer.

“Might need this recipe for my mum, to be frank.” He looks down at his glass with a mixture of pleased concern written across his face.

“Be happy to send you with a recipe card.” You can’t wipe the smile from your face. Your front porch didn’t get as much use as you would like, they were the first visitors to use it this year.

Kyle and Johnny chat with you for nearly a half hour before by the winding down of the conversation the men stand in tandem. They all trail into the house to deposit their glasses in the sink before saying their goodbyes and rounding the house for the trail that would lead them back to their own home.

Placing your cup in the sink next to theirs you are surprised to see three empty glasses and a bone-dry sink. Seems the quiet man had sipped at his drink after all.

You would need to be sure to offer it again. Best to be sure if he liked it or if his mother had taught him it would be rude to reject an offer of a refreshment. Neither said anything bad about a person but it would help future interactions to know what your neighbors liked.

Boys Masterlist | Masterlist

@leahnicole1219 @harperstyles @sigynxlokiwifelover @fluffysmiko

[winchesterwild78]

Second Take pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (exs), Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys

Warnings: Angst, Accusations of Cheating, Physical Violence, Mention of Pregnancy Loss

A/N: Just a story that came to me as I’m dealing with crap. Writing to get out of my head…again. The story doesn’t follow The Boys timeline, and will mention the actors and the characters from the show. You and Jensen had dated when you both worked on Supernatural, now years later he joins The Boys. Can the two of you work together again or will the pain be too much? 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. 

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform. 

Minors DNI 18+

The air in the writing room was thick with tension and anticipation. I hated being in here but loved it just as much. I’d been working with Eric Kripke since Supernatural and was thrilled when he asked me to help with The Boys. 

I was adamant I started as an assistant writer and worked my way up. Eric chuckled, but he wasn’t going to argue. So, here I was sitting in the writing room. The first two seasons of the show were great. The fans loved the show and there was a teaser that went out that hinted Soldier Boy would make an appearance in the third season. 

Eric sat everyone down to discuss who he had in mind. “Okay guys listen up. This character has to be brash and confident. He also has to be charming and good looking. I have the perfect person to fit the role. Most of you have worked with him before, some this will be the first time. He’s an incredible guy and is very professional.” 

Eric’s eyes met mine and a soft gasp left my lips. No, please don’t say it. Please, Eric. My mind raced. 

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome Jensen Ackles, our new Soldier Boy.” 

My breath hitched. The door opened and in walked Jensen. Looking just as good as ever. Older, but still just as good looking. 

He smiled and glanced around the room. When his eyes landed on me his mouth parted in a gasp and he looked at Eric. Guess Eric failed to tell him I’m here too. 

Jensen greeted everyone and then walked over to me. “Hello, Mr Ackles, glad you could make it.” I extended my hand to shake his. My heart pounded in my chest. 

“Miss Y/L/N, how have you been?” I shifted on my feet. His hand in mine sent a shock of electricity through me. I cleared my throat and swallowed hard, “I’ve been good. Writing again for Eric, so I can’t complain. How is Danneel and the kids?” 

“They’re good. The kids are growing up too fast. Can you believe JJ is almost a preteen.” “Oh wow. Then it’s perfect timing for you to play Soldier Boy. You’ll scare the boys off.” 

He laughed. God I missed his laugh. I looked down and realized we were still holding hands. I pulled my hand back and swore I saw his smile fall. 

Eric got everyone’s attention and said the cast and crew were meeting for dinner tonight to introduce Jensen to everyone. 

Walking out of the meeting I heard Jensen talking to Eric. I was in my head not paying attention and ran into Karl. 

“Oi, Love.” His hands steadied me. “I’m sorry Karl. Just in my head and not paying attention.” 

He smirked, “That’s okay love. You can run into me anytime.” I blushed. Karl is a good looking man and really sweet. If I didn’t have a boyfriend I’d consider taking him up on all the advances he throws my way. 

His thumb brushed against my now red cheek and he smiled. “When are you going to leave what’s his name and run away with me?” I smiled and touched his chest, “Maybe soon, you never know.” I kissed his cheek and went to my office. 

A few minutes later there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” I said not looking up. 

I heard the door click shut and I looked up. Jensen was standing there. “Hey sweetheart.” 

I gasped softly. “Jensen. Do you need anything?” 

He smirked and sat down, “I just wanted to talk.” 

“Okay. Is there something wrong with the character or your trailer?” 

Jensen stood and walked to my side. “No, I want to talk about us. What happened between us. We haven’t talked since that night and we’re about to work together again. I want to clear the air.” 

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears and pain at bay. My mind drifted to the day we broke up. 

*flashback*

We stood in our apartment in Toronto. Hours of back and forth, followed by silence. My heart was broken. Jensen, my Jensen was leaving. 

“Jens, why? I thought you were in love with me. We talked about marriage, we’re engaged. What changed?” 

Jensen ran his fingers through his hair. His voice soft and broken, “I know baby. I do love you, I just need to figure some things out.” 

My breath hitched, “Who is she?” Jensen’s green eyes were red from crying, he looked at me and then closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

My heart broke. There was someone else. “Jensen, how could you? You said you loved me.” 

Jensen stood in silence. Anger filled me quickly and venom poured out of my mouth, “Who the fuck is she, Jensen?! If you’re man enough to cheat, then you should be able to own it!” 

His voice low, “It’s Danneel.” I gasped, the tears I had been trying to hold back fell fast and hard. “Of course it’s her. She’s been trying to fuck you for years. You fucked her on set, didn’t you? All those late nights on the movie set were really just you being with her?!”

I couldn’t talk or even look at him. I slipped my engagement ring off and sat it on the table in front of him, then I walked away. 

The last time I saw him or talked to him was that day. It had been thirteen years and the pain was still just as raw. 

“Jensen, I don't think that’s a good idea. We’ve both moved on. You’re married to her and I have someone.” 

Jensen’s eyes flicked to mine, “Oh wow. That’s good. I’m glad you have someone. I just wanted to talk, but I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.” 

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to ask him why, but I was terrified of the answer. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not ready.” He nodded, “I understand, sweetheart. I’m ready whenever you are. For what it’s worth, I never cheated.” 

I gasped and he walked out of my office, closing the door behind him. 

An audible sob left my mouth. What?! What did he mean by that? 

All afternoon his words played in my head. I never cheated. By the time I got home my head was spinning. The pain and anger was raw. My boyfriend, Charlie, wasn't home and he said he might not be able to go to dinner tonight. 

I jumped in the shower and cried. My heart is breaking all over again. If he didn’t cheat, why did he leave? Why did he let me accuse him of cheating? Why didn’t he fucking fight for me, for us?! 

I pulled myself together and got dressed. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a shot. Then another. 

My uber pulled up before I could take a third. I arrived at the restaurant and some of the cast and crew were already there. Karl saw me and walked over, taking my coat. “Ello, love. Where’s the boyfriend?” “Not coming.” My speech slurred a little. 

I lost my footing and Karl grabbed me. “Looks like someone had a little party before she got here. You okay?” 

I nodded yes, “Just trying to drown a ghost.” 

My eyes looked up and I saw Jensen. I bit my lip. Karl looked over and followed my eyes to Jensen. “Oh love.” He pulled me tightly to his chest. 

We all sat down to eat and meet Jensen. Eric introduced everyone and the conversations flowed. Dinner was served and I was drinking a little too much. 

Karl was sitting next to me and after I ordered another drink he leaned over and said “Love, I don’t think you should drink anymore. You’ve had a lot.” 

I looked over at him, “Karl, you’re no fun. Who knows, you might get lucky tonight.” I kissed his cheek. “No love, not like this. We are switching you to coffee and water.” 

Jensen noticed I was drunk and he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. I stood to go to the bathroom and Karl and Jensen both jumped up. Eric looked at both of them and then over at me. 

Erin stood and took my arm. She looked at Karl, “I’ve got her.” He nodded and she walked me to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom she grabbed a paper towel and wet it. “Honey, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.” Tears fell from my eyes as I sobbed loudly, “He didn’t cheat, Erin. Why did he leave me if he didn’t cheat?” 

She looked confused, “Who sweetie? Charlie?” I shook my head no, “Jensen. We were in love. We were supposed to get married. He let me believe he cheated and then he left. She’s living the life I was supposed to. She had the children I was supposed to have with him. Erin, I can’t do this. I can’t work with him. I still love him.” 

She wrapped me in a tight hug. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” “I need to tell Eric I have to quit. Jensen is irreplaceable. He was born to play Soldier Boy. Jensen will make that character his own and bring in so many new fans. You’ll see. I love you guys so much, but I can’t do this.” 

I stumbled to the door and Erin followed me. Walking to my chair I grabbed my stuff. Eric, Jensen and Karl looked at me. They saw my face was red, puffy and tear stained. 

Eric walked over to me, “Hey kiddo, you okay?” I shook my head no, “I’m sorry Eric, I don’t think I can do this.” He hugged me, “Get some rest, we’ll talk later.” 

I walked out of the restaurant and heard someone call my name from behind me. I know that voice. I turned and saw Jensen standing there. “Jensen, go inside. This night is about you. I’m going home. I drank too much and I need to sleep it off.” 

Jensen closed the distance between us, “Baby, please talk to me.” My lip quivered and my heart fluttered, “Jensen, I’m not your baby anymore. You have Danneel and I have Charlie.” “Y/N, please. Please don’t walk away from me again. Please talk to me.” 

I spun on my heels, “Walk away from you again?! Jensen you cheated on me, or at least you let me think you did. I tried to get you to talk to me and you wouldn’t. Then you marry her, have children with her. She’s living the life I was supposed to. The life you promised me. I didn’t walk away from you, you walked away from us. Then you come here and tell me you never cheated!? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?!”

He lowered his head a little, “I know. I’ve been a fucking coward, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you. I loved you. I love you. I always have and always will. I needed time to think because I developed feelings for her, or so I thought I did. After you left I did go back to her because I was scared of being alone. We got married, but it’s always been more of an arrangement than an actual marriage. I don’t regret having my children because I love them so much, but you should have been their mother.” 

Jensen closed the distance between us and cupped my face, “I’m so fucking sorry. Sorry for not fighting for us, for our future. I love you, Y/N.”

I looked into his green eyes so full of hurt and regret and all the love I’d buried deep came bubbling to the surface and before I could stop myself my lips crashed on his. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me close. 

We pulled away when the need for air became too much. I touched my lips and the realization hit me hard. I just kissed him and he’s married and I’m with someone. I’ve now become the other woman. 

“Jensen, I’m so sorry.” I started to climb in the Uber and Jensen grabbed my arm, “Baby please don’t go.” “Jens, we both know if I stay we will cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed.” He let go of my arm and nodded. I climbed in the car and watched him as the car drove off. 

My heart pounded in my chest. My phone went off and I pulled it out of my bag, it was a text.

Jensen: Y/N, please let me know when you get home. I need to make sure you’re safe.

I sat just staring at the message. I didn’t know what to say. When we kissed I felt all his love, all my love pouring into each other and filling each other. I knew I couldn’t work with him now.

Another message pulled me out of my head. 

Charlie: Hey babe. I’m almost home. Sorry I missed dinner. I can’t wait to hear all about it and your new Soldier Boy. 

Me: I’m almost home too. I can’t wait to see you. 

The Uber pulled up a few minutes later. I walked inside and noticed Charlie wasn’t home yet. I pulled out my phone and took a deep breath.

Me: Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m home. I am sorry for the kiss. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again. 

Jensen: …

I noticed the dots kept appearing and disappearing. A lump formed in my throat. I was staring at my phone when I heard the door. Charlie walked in and set his stuff down. 

He crossed the room and pulled me in a hug and kissed me. This kiss felt so different than Jensen’s. “I missed you today, baby. How was your day?” I was about to answer him when my phone went off. I looked down and saw a notification of a message from Jensen. 

I glanced at the message.

Jensen: Thank you for letting me know you’re safe. Don’t worry about the kiss, but please don’t call it a mistake. It was incredible.

My breath hitched. “Y/N, is everything okay?” Charlie asked with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, we need to talk.” The two of us sat down and I took a deep breath. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay, are you okay?” 

I nodded, “So our Soldier Boy is Jensen.” Charlie looked at me in disbelief, “Like your ex fiancé, Jensen?” 

I nodded. “Okay, well that’s okay baby. I trust you.” 

The tears fell. He grabbed my arms and held me tight. “Shh baby, it’s okay. I know he hurt you.” “Charlie, he told me today he didn’t cheat on me and it hurt. I drank too much and before I left the restaurant tonight I poured all the hurt and anger out. Then I um, I kissed him. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just kissed him.”

Charlie sat in silence. Taking in my confession. “Charlie, please talk to me.” 

His blue eyes looked at mine. Filled with betrayal and hurt. 

“Do you love him?” “What?” “Do you still love him?” 

I didn’t know what to say. “I um, yes I do, but I love you too.” 

His hand cupped my face and wiped my tears away, “I know you do, but I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think you’ve always been and always will be in love with him. I love you, Y/N and I want you to be happy. If it’s with me that’s great, if it’s not then I want you to be with who makes you happy. I deserve to be the first choice, not the second one.” 

I looked at him. His face trying to hide the pain he felt in his heart. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” 

He took my hands in his, “I know. That’s not who you are and that’s why you told me about what happened. I love you, Y/N and hope you get everything you deserve and more. You deserve to be loved and happy.” 

He kissed my forehead, stood up and walked to the bedroom. I sat on the couch crying. 

A few minutes later he walked out with a suitcase in hand. “I’m gonna stay with Alex. I’ll be by tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.” 

He walked over to me and I stood up. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I never wanted to hurt you.” He cupped my cheeks, “Hey, Y/N, no don’t do that. Yes this hurts, but I understand. Jensen was your fiancé and you never got closure. Maybe you need to get some. I’ll always be here for you.” He kissed my lips, grabbed his things and left. 

I collapsed on the couch, pulled myself into a ball and cried. I eventually cried myself to sleep. 

The next day at work I stayed in my office. Eric said he was coming by to talk. I didn’t know how to tell him I needed to quit. 

I sat at my desk waiting for Eric when there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” 

Jensen opened the door and looked at me. “Hey, we need to talk.” I nodded and he sat down. “Jensen, I want to tell you what happened last night won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I’m going to tell Eric I can’t work on this project anymore. You’re irreplaceable and I don’t want them to lose you.” 

He shook his head, “Don’t do that. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are. Please don’t throw it away.” 

“I’m not throwing anything away. He’s got other projects I can work on, or maybe I can work from home.” 

As Jensen and I talked my office door flew open. We both jumped and standing at the door was Danneel. Her chest heaving and she looked pissed. “D what are you doing here?” Jensen asked. 

She didn’t answer, she crossed the room, walked up to me and slapped me across the face. Jensen jumped up and yelled her name, “Danneel, what the hell?!” 

My hand covered my face where she hit me. My face is red hot, stinging and throbbing. 

“You bitch! How dare you kiss MY husband. He chose ME! We have children together.” 

I was in shock. "Danneel, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a mistake.” 

Jensen was in between us. “D, what the hell? You can’t just go around slapping people.” “Jensen, I had to explain to our family why there are pictures of you kissing another woman all over the internet. Your hands holding her tightly and you kissing her back. Not to mention she’s your ex fiancé. How could you do this to us?” 

She showed Jensen the picture. Someone took it last night and it went viral. 

This must be why Eric wanted to talk. 

Danneel started to leave as people gathered outside my office, “Stay the fuck away from my husband.” She turned on her heels and walked out the door. 

Jensen looked at me and said he was sorry and went after her. 

I stood in my office crying and feeling like a fool. This was my fault. I kissed Jensen. I deserved the slap. I deserve so much more. 

A few minutes later Eric was at my door. “Y/N, we need to talk.” I nodded and he shut the door. 

“Eric, I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I’ll pack up my stuff and leave quietly. I never meant to hurt anyone or cause any trouble.” 

Tears fell fast and heavy. “Y/N, I don’t know everything that happened between you and Jensen all those years ago, but I know none of this is your fault. Yes, I saw the picture last night, but I also saw the pain on yours and Jensen’s faces. I’m not here to fire you or ask you to leave.  I’m here to check on you.” 

That broke me. I sat and cried. “Eric I fucked up. I kissed Jensen last night. I’m still in love with him but he’s moved on with Danneel. I don’t blame her for slapping me. I deserve it. I broke up with Charlie last night. I’m just so alone, so tired of being sad and not enough. I thought Jensen loved me. I was going to marry him, have his children. I was pregnant when we split. I lost the baby about a month after he left. I never told him. I was so broken after losing him and the baby. I couldn’t tell him I lost his baby. Then Danneel gave him three beautiful children. How do I compete with that? I wanted to grow old with him. Damnit, I deserved happiness. I deserved everything we promised each other.” 

I didn’t know Jensen was standing outside the door listening to me. My confession about the baby made him gasp. I hadn’t told him or anyone about the baby. 

Eric stood and walked over to me, pulled me into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay. I know. I’m so sorry you lost your baby. No one should have to go through that, especially alone. Y/N, you need to talk to Jensen and figure out what you two want. No matter what you two decide I’ll support it, but the two of you need to figure it out. I love you both, but I can’t tell you what to do. Go home, rest and I’ll see you in a few days.” 

I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t let me. “Your job is safe Y/N. I have worked with some great writers, but you’re one of the best. I’d be a fool to let you go. Go home and reach out to Jensen.” 

I nodded and he started to walk out. Eric closed the door behind him and gasped when he saw Jensen. “How much of that did you hear?” Eric asked Jensen. Jensen’s eyes filled with pain and tears, “All of it.” Eric placed his hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Go to her and figure out what you two want. You have to let her know truly how you feel about everything. That woman in there loves you and is so broken. Go fix this Ackles.” 

Jensen nodded and Eric walked away. Jensen took a steady breath and knocked on the door. “Hey, sweetheart, can I come in?” 

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[ang3lmoans]

Hearing Garam ask him to join the hunt for warmer socks was enough to put him at ease. What Angel didn’t expect was the man’s full confession. He sat there quite with a blank stare. But because he wasn’t listening but more from shock. All of this was going on in his mind? Angel thought himself unable to fathom how Garam even functioned with all of that going on. However, he stayed completely silent until he seemed the man ran out of breath from his gasping. Angel’s eyes softened as he leaned forward and kissed the other man’s hands. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about my feelings. Each word followed with a soft kiss to Garam’s hands. “Since when do you care about annoying me? Garam you are my best friend first before anything else. That will never change.” Angel smiled as he moved closer looking at the way the man was sitting. Angel always found him cutest like this. So flustered and unsure, “I don’t regret what we did Garam. Not right now. I’m still working through some things. Some days I’m okay and some days it hard to get out of bed. But what I want you to focus on is how I feel about you. That is what I was trying to say earlier.” He continued wanting to cover everything Garam said. Angel wanted to show him he was listening and took all his words seriously. “Well baby, you made a rule and I made a rule. We have plenty of time to work up to that. What a beautiful mess you would make. Don’t be scared I’ll never do anything you are not comfortable with. And I’ll never do anything I don’t want to do. I appreciate you being worried for me but I’m a big boy. I’ll speak up for myself” Angel cooed putting his face inches from Haram’s hands, “please look at me baby, I want to see your handsome face” he whispered kissing his hands once more. Angel smirked as he leaned closer to the other man’s ear, “So you thought about me? What exactly did you picture Garam? You don’t think I want more of you? Hearing you moan for me, like the good boy you are?” He was having too much fun with this. How could he not get turned on by the way Garam was talking. However, he pulled back when the man invited him once again out with him shopping, “Tour deer really caught me by surprise. Just warn me next time they are freezing. But I would love to help you shop for anything you need. It’s still early we can cuddle some more…or you know I could go another round?” He grinned as he playfully bit the man’s ear lobe before pulling away. “After I can cook for us and we head out shopping. How does that sound?”

Something seemed off. As Garam mumbled a sorry Angel knew he fucked up some how. His grin as he teased the other man faded all the touches seem to stop. He just wanted to know what was going on in Garam’s mind. But then his friend smiled. Which confused Angel. His body language was saying one thing and his body was saying another. His face neutral his as tried to read Garam’s face but then his stomach rumbled and he groaned. Of course his stomach would rumble just then. The next thing he knew Garam had pulled away and was now telling him he wasn’t hungry. Angel’s neutral expression shifting into a confused frown. What the hell was happening? However he was quiet allowing the man to speak. He wanted to allow Garam to explain before getting upset. But as his best friend’s rant seemed to trail off Angel was now sat up fully with crossed legs. So many emotions swirled inside him. He didn’t know what to say first or how to get them out. This gave him the same gut wrenching feeling from the other day. When Garam insisted on going to his apartment alone so he could hang out with Darius. “Please have breakfast with me.” Angel said softly. “I would like to go with you on your errands. I’ll even help you pick out warmer socks. Laying in bed all day was me just wanting to be around you. I don’t even need to walk with you. I can walk two steps behind you. There is no need for you to be alone.“ Angel stared at Garam with soft eyes. Spending that time together felt great in the moment. But now he felt rather used. Now Garam had all these errands he wanted to run? He felt sick to his stomach. Just like that he was running off. “If you go alone I’m going to worry.” Angel was starting to feel desperate. Angel really liked Garam and to him he was really trying to be honest about what he wanted. Now he began to over think everything. Had they moved too fast. Should he had help back, backed away? Why did things seem to always go wrong? “Garam, please?” He pleaded one last time.