#work ate my soul | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ahqkas · 2 months ago

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“MILLION DOLLAR MAN — bruce wayne.

PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce met you through a dating app (his sons’ doing, really) and the temptation to invite you over for christmas is getting harder to resist WORD COUNT! 3.6k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce is literally down bad for reader in this one, unedited + lmk if found! NOTES! for nat & based on this req. , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE AVOIDED RELATIONSHIPS LIKE A SOLDIER DODGING BULLETS, each attempt adding yet another layer to the armor he wore daily. He didn’t need them, the women, or so he told himself. They entered his life easily — at his own charity galas, where one pretty bird thought she could get a kiss from him by the end of the night. Female admirers who ate up his charming smiles and sharp eyes seemed to flock around him at all times. And those countless girls who were lured in by the Wayne name, the status, the wealth.

And Bruce gave them the attention they craved from him.

The women served their purpose as brief districtions, companions who helped him maintain his public image, but none of them really mattered to him.

They kept the colder side of his bed warm, but never his heart.

It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t want love — some part of him did, but that part was buried under the weight of Batman. Allowing himself to lose the walls around him and find an attachment in a woman wasn't something his alter ego was okay with, not with the way he’d been living. And another part convinced him that his duties as Gotham’s protector, with all his scars and wounds, didn’t make him a possible object for such things. Love and vigilantism didn’t mingle together well.

Maybe that’s why his own sons and personal butler teamed up on him. Batman was a hero to many, but with how much it damaged Bruce’s internal beliefs, it would ruin him soon enough.

It started as something innocent (but it seemed the wolf was clothed in sheep’s wool): Dick, his oldest, had teased him about his non-existent love life during a training session in the Batcave.

The large space was full with flickering lights coming from the monitors and grunts from the fighting men. Sweat filled the air, masculine and strong, but that only indicated to the hard work they were doing. Training wasn’t easy, they liked to train with the maximum intensity ( it was kinda needed, too ) and it showed. From their damp hair and glistening skin to the rippling muscles underneath their clothes.

“You know, Bruce,” his son started when he blocked yet another strike coming from the man in question. A puff of air left his mouth upon the attack. Not fair. “for someone who spends his nights saving people, you sure are terrible at saving yourself from eternal loneliness.”

Bruce delivered another jab, this one directed straight at Dick’s weak point. “Not now, Dick.”

But his son was nothing if not persistent and he always got what he wanted, whether it was with or without serious consequences. “I’m serious. When was the last time you went on a date? And don’t try to tell me you had one on your arm during the last charity event. That doesn’t count.”

Both of them fully knew Bruce’s arm candies were way more interested in his name and money than in his heart and soul. The truth made his jaw muscles tighten at the realization.

“My personal life is irrelevant to my work.”

Dick took the opportunity and circled the older man like a predator catching the prey’s scent of blood. A sweet weakness, that one. He’d be stupid if he didn’t take the chance. “Is it though? I mean, sure, you’re great at taking down supervillains and brooding on top of high rooftops, but even Batman needs a little action sometimes. The different kind of action, of course. Or are you planning to spend the rest of your life married to the job?”

Bruce swiped his right leg toward Dick’s shins, trying to take him down like he was the said supervillain but the acrobat jumped right on time, avoiding Bruce’s attempt with a grin on his face.

He landed on his feet and crossed his arms at his chest, leaning the weight of his body against one leg. The playfulness disappeared from both his voice and expression and instead, seriousness graced him whole. “Seriously, Bruce, even Alfred’s worried. He brought it up the other day while we were decorating the tree. Something about how the manor feels colder than usual this year.”

“The heating system is fine.”

With Jason gone, it was the truth. His second son had this strange relationship with all the members of the family. Off and on. Off and on. No one truly knew where they stood in Jason’s eyes but he made the effort and showed up on Christmas Eve the other year upon receiving Alfred’s invitation.

Bruce doubted he would show up two years in a row.

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it,” Dick pressed, and effectively added more salt into Bruce’s wounds. It stung and it fucking hurt. As much as Batman was ruthless, it didn’t mean the man under the mask was resistant against the pain his life brought. “You’re not getting any younger, B. It wouldn’t kill you to let someone in. And I don’t mean us. Try to meet someone who isn’t friendly with a criminal record.”

The older man could only stare helplessly at the other. Those words his son, partner, spoke were loud, crawling their way into his mind and much to his dismay, his heart as well.

Before he could voice his dismissal, a younger voice called out. It was familiar in a way family tended to be.

“You are wasting your breath, Grayson. Father has neither the time nor the inclination to entertain your nonsense,” his youngest son declared into the space of Batcave, his voice ringing out and echoing every single word. The blood son, Damian Wayne.

The father didn’t even flinch, just let out a deep sigh through his nose. It was as usual between those two, always bickering from Damian’s side and teasing remarks from Dick’s. You could mistake the blood running through their system as one, if not for the physical differences. They were brothers in all but red.

“Damian,” Dick started in that lecturing tone he’d always seemed to use with the younger boy, “when was the last time you saw Bruce here even try to have a social life?”

Damian rolled his eyes, the green disappearing behind his eyelids before they reappeared, rougher than they were. “The so called ‘social life’ you’re referring to consists of women who barely last through dinner. Why would he waste his energy on distractions when Gotham requires his full attention?”

“Because even Batman needs a break. You know, normal human things? Like dating, smiling, not dying alone in this cave surrounded by bats?”

“If Father is content with his choices, who are you to meddle? Unlike you, he does not require constant companionship to validate his existence.”

“Ouch,” Dick put his palm against his heart in a mocking manner, feigning hurt as his lips formed a pout. “You’ve got a real gift for the Christmas spirit, don’t you?”

The younger son narrowed his eyes at his supposed brother. The constant bickering was almost normal in their lives so far, and nothing seemed to be changing any time soon. He had to learn how to live with the excuse of a brother, although he started to form a light liking towards him. He wasn’t so bad. “I only speak the truth,” his green irises flicked to Bruce. “Though it is peculiar he tolerates your interference. Perhaps even Father has realized how pathetic his current romantic life—or lack thereof—appears.”

The object of the conversation let out another sigh, this one loud enough for the boys to hear. Their gazes snapped toward Bruce with accusingly great speed.

“If you two are done debating my personal life, there’s actual work to be done.”

He missed the glance his oldest threw at the youngest. He missed the look filled with amusement and a plan that was already brewing. He missed the nod they gave each other, although Dick’s was more pronounced and determined.

The next few hours were spent creating Bruce’s dating app profile.

The final result was the definition of real sugar daddy vibes. Every detail had been debated (mostly argued over though) and thought through, so to say the boys were satisfied with it was an understatement. The oldest prided in the work, saying how it would get so many women to reply which would eventually lead to the right one. The middle one Dick and Damian (only Dick) dragged into the activity beamed up once the profile was set while the youngest scoffed and scowled during the entire process.

During the next evening, the boys showed the main man his new account.

Bruce was left speechless upon seeing the bright screen flash before his eyes. Not a single word was muttered as he watched his boys showing him the app and explaining how exactly it worked (he’d never used a dating app before all this so bear with him). The main photo on the profile was a candid one of him, the one Cass had taken on a sunny day in the Wayne Manor gardern. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the long sleeves rolled up past his elbows as the muscles of his forearms bulged up. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the sunlight casting shadows across his sharp features and Bruce had to admit they chose a good photo.

It wasn’t intimidating, but it wasn’t exactly friendly as well. The good old middle.

The boys knew he was convinced to give it a try when he waved them off with a deep sigh slipping past his lips.

The game was on.

It was past the midnight when he lied in his bed, propped against one too many pillows and wondered why he was still scrolling through the damned dating app. It was late—far past the time he should have been out on patrol, but Red Hood and Red Robin got it covered for him.

Bruce wasn’t looking for anything specific, really. If he were honest, this whole situation felt out of place for him. Swiping through the profiles was more like an exercise for his thumb.

First was Madison K. Her profile opened with flashy colors that immediately put Bruce into a doubtful situation. Were all these women going to be like this? Madison was beautiful and her looks screamed professionalism: her makeup was done flawlessly, adorning her bright eyes and full lips. She looked like she belonged on a cover for a fashion magazine, not a dating app. Her bio made his thumb swipe left.

‘Manifesting my best life. CEO of my own happiness. Looking for someone who’s successful, ambitious, and knows how to treat me like a queen.’

The next account’s bio made him grimace and swipe left once again.

‘Looking for someone who can keep me living the dream. If you’re successful, generous, and ready to spoil me, let’s talk.”

At this point, Bruce was ready to delete the dating app his boys set up and enjoy the rest of his night. Most of the profiles he swiped through were simply bland to him. Nothing felt genuine. Right. It was safe to say he was losing the hope Dick had set in him earlier in the evening. Until he stumbled upon your profile.

The account stood out among the others—simple, elegant, but with a certain amount of warmth that seemed genuine. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat once he scrolled further and came across your photo. The picture showed you in a cozy cafe, the one Steph adored so much for their cinnamon roll buns. A soft smile danced on your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheeks as you looked off to the side. You captured Bruce in a way the others didn’t.

You looked like a fawn surrounded by hungry wolves. You were admirable while they were craving wealth and status. Two different sides of a coin, but Bruce had already known his pick.

Your bio was sincere, a sight the man liked to see.

‘I enjoy the little moments — finding beauty in the simple things. I believe in kindness, and I’m looking for someone who values honesty and a deep conversation.’

His mind flicked briefly toward the countless hours he spends in the cave, surrounded by work and worries. You seemed like the one who could understand the balance between the quiet and the loud, someone who could exist in both of his worlds without losing that spark you held in your gaze.

Before he could overthink it, Bruce clicked on the “message” button.

Once the screen of your non-existent chat appeared, his mind went blank and all he was capable of was to stare mindlessly at the phone. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but no words came to him. What did one say to someone like you? He wasn’t used to thinking ahead when it came to women. This was a new field. And he couldn’t screw up.

Finally, his fingers moved before his mind could think of whatever embarrassing thing it was capable of.

> Hey, I noticed your profile and wanted to reach out. There’s something about your words that struck a chord with me. I’d like to know more about you.

And that’s how the two of you started your relationship, or whatever you could call it. Neither of you voiced it as official, but that was okay. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, not so soon. And yet it came at him, crashing like a large wave of emotions every time you were around. You changed everything for him.

Your conversations became the highlight of his days.

His ears perked up every single time without a fail when he heard the soft ‘ping!’ of the notification, already convinced it was from you (and it 98 percent was). Whether it was early in the morning before he started working in the chaotic Wayne Enterprises or late at night when the Batcave was quiet and felt at peace. You were always there with him.

You were thoughtful, generous, and refreshingly kind. You asked him questions that no one else dared to: what he wanted from life, what made him happy, what kept him awake at night. You didn’t flinch at his silence. You didn’t push him to give answers he wasn’t ready to share. You understood him in a way only a few people did.

Piece by piece, he let you into his world — not that part filled with constant danger and threats, but that part that longed for something real.

By the time Christmas approached, Bruce was sure of one thing: he wanted you in his life.

The holiday was just around the corner, filling the air with joy and gratitude as it always did. The snow was blanketing the streets with white powder, and although many people were complaining about the cold, it had its charm.

Christmas had always been about family for Bruce, about gathering around the tree and full table with the people who mattered most. It was lonely at first, after the death of his parents, but over the years, Alfred had made it work. The table was always full of tasty food the kids adored and presents Bruce knew would make them more than happy were neatly waiting for them every morning after Christmas Eve.

This year though, Bruce wanted it to be a little different. He wanted you to be part of it.

You might actually fit into the chaos of the Wayne family — the teasing and playful banters between you, Dick, and Tim would be absolute gold to hear. You probably even could handle Damian’s wit which was something his father would like to see. He could picture you smiling, holding back your own remarks. The idea of you sitting beside him at the long dining table, sharing their traditions, made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

That night, he sent you a message.

> Are you free on Christmas Eve?

Your response came in quickly, as it always did. Bruce’s heart thumped against the bones of his ribs.

> I am. Why?

He hesitated for a bit, overthinking his decision.

> I’d like you to join me for dinner. It’s a family thing but I’d really like for you to be there.

> Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

> You wouldn’t be intruding.

Bruce could picture the light frown between your brows and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You often did it unconsciously, never knowing how pretty you looked this way. But even as he pictured your face, a part of him was growing more nervous about the situation. Would you agree to an event this serious? Spend Christmas with him. And his family. Or were you coming up with excuses right now? He wouldn’t blame you.

> Then I’d love to come.

His heart skipped a beat and that night, Bruce went to bed feeling a little lighter than he usually did.

Snow blanketed the long driveway leading up to Wayne Manor and for once, Bruce wasn’t thinking about the pressure of Batman or the chaos the boys would definitely stir up tonight. His attention was entirely focused on the one making your way towards him. He stood just outside the grand entrance, dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit that fit him like a glove. The soft crunch of tires on the white powder alerted him to your arrival, and as your car pulled up, Bruce started to feel the nervousness. He adjusted his tie with a single hand.

When you stepped out, his breath caught.

You were breathtakingly beautiful. Dressed in an inky black that hugged your figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmered under the outdoor lights of the mansion. The smile you gave him when your eyes met melted all the nerves that had been harboring in his system. He was finally calm and composed, for what seemed like the first time in the evening.

“You’re early,” Bruce pointed out softly when you walked up the stairs to meet him in front of the door, and his eyes sparkled with little stars at the sight of you. How did he get so lucky? “You look stunning, by the way.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting. And thank you. You clean up well, too, Bruce.”

Your gaze held a playful edge in it as you accepted his hand, locking your palm around his bulging biceps and squeezing warmly. The touch added the missing piece of the puzzle Bruce was trying to solve while his cheeks warmed a rosy pink under your influence without any hesitation. The gesture felt natural, like it always belonged there.

The two of you approached the doors of the manor in a shared silence, although it didn’t feel a bit awkward. You took a moment to take in the place. It was like something out of your childhood dreams — tall, arched windows glowing with the soft light of a dozen garlands lining the entryway. The faint hum of holiday music and the occasional sound of laughter echoed through the manor.

It was Bruce’s home.

“Do you always go this big for Christmas?” you voiced a question that's been sitting on your mind since the moment you saw the large Christmas tree from the entryway to Bruce’s living room. Decorated with lots of ornaments, it looked lovely, accompanied by a heap of presents.

“Alfred insists,” admitting with a soft chuckle, Bruce rubbed the nape of his neck as he led you deeper into his home. “And the boys like the holidays. I want them to have the best.”

The scent of pine and cinnamon enveloped your senses the further you moved. The sounds grew louder, too. You awe made him feel lighter somehow. The dining room at Wayne Manor was nothing short of spectacular this night, with the long mahogany table adorned with a dozen of flickering candles and plates of food that looked like it belonged in a holiday spread for a cookbook.

You were sitting beside Bruce (he kind of insisted anyway), your hand occasionally brushing against his. He helped you settle into the chair which earned a teasing glance from Dick. Speaking of his oldest son, he was sitting across from you with an easy grin that told you some questions would come your way sooner or later. Tim was at Dick’s right, while Damian occupied the chair from the other side of his father.

The evening was more than successful in your opinion. Steph asked you about your favorite literature, while Tim quizzed you on trivia about Gotham (which you surprisingly got all right). Damian, after much persistence from Dick, shared a story about his latest art project, though he kept glancing at you as if trying to gauge your reaction.

Through it all, Bruce remained by your side.

When the night finally came to an end, and everyone drifted to their own space of the manor, Bruce walked you to the entrance with a gentle hand against the small of your back.

“Thank you,” his gaze met yours as he handed you your coat, effortlessly helping you slip your arms into the sleeves. “For coming tonight. For putting up with them.”

You gifted him with the most precious kind of a present; your smile, smaller hands reaching up to adjust the collar of his dark suit. “Of course. They’re wonderful, Bruce. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

For a man who othen found himself at loss for words when it came to talking in emotions, Bruce found himself smiling softly with his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Because for the first time, Christmas didn’t feel like an obligation. It felt like a new beginning.

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rynbutt · 10 months ago

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safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore.

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly.

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were.

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom.

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile.

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand.

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour.

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos.

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied.

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around.

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team.

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh.

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone.

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat.

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth.

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again.

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house.

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard.

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house.

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car.

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child.

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this.

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that.

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers.

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him.

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator.

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned.

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression.

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.”

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway.

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile.

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

6K notes · View notes

leclercwriting · 6 months ago

Text

age gap | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem reader

you are an influencer who starts dating older f1 driver daniel ricciardo

masterlist

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 567,930 others

caption: my life since the rumours

view all comments

yourbff1: the rumours are kinda funny tho

y/n.user: yeah.. "rumours"

user73: DOES THIS MEAN THAT THE RUMOURS ARE TRUE?

user62: what rumours?!

danielricciardo: xx

user83: daniel?

user2: wait... the rumours are that he and y/n are dating, right?

user74: yeah

daniel.jpg

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 123,938 others

caption: rumours confirmed

view all comments

maxverstappen1: this is how i get to know your girlfriend?

daniel.jpg: sorryy maximilian

landonorris: isn't she too young? you old man

daniel.jpg: she has an old soul

y/n.user: DANIEL

landonorris: hey y/n. I'm lando btw

y/n.user: hey lando

user73: omg they are actually so cute together

user46: lmao she's just using him

user9: weird

user525: she's still a child omg

y/n.user: oh I wish. But thanks for compliment that I look young

user3: she slayed

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, y/n.user and 567,939 others

caption: if you go out with daniel and y/n, be prepared for daniel carrying her around...

view all comments

danielricciardo: she's always tired.. not my fault

y/n.user: ME? u always want to carry me

danielricciardo: not true

y/n.user: I'm done with you

landonorris: first couple fight?

danielricciardo: yeah..

user66: I'm starting to like them together

y/n.user: good taste

user3: idk but it's still weird

user2: she's so young

y/n.user: no wayyy

yourbff1: they are so cute

y/n.user: <3

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,839,378 others

caption: I bought daniel new t-shirts so he can wear them to the paddock (haters will love these)

view all comments

landonorris: poor danny boy

danielricciardo: I actually love them

maxverstappen1: no way

y/n.user: @ kellypiquet Kelly buy some t-shirt for max too. Atleast he doesn't have to repeat outfits

user63: poor daniel.. she's manipulating him

danielricciardo: I literally picked those t-shirts

user73: daniel and y/n are the best couple. Argue with the wall

yourbff3: omg i love you for this babe

y/n.user: I ate

user77: u did!

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 578,838 others

caption: enjoyed my first gp, and now it's summer break

view all comments

user83: most hated but the best couple award goes to... y/n and daniel

y/n.user: thanks I guess

danielricciardo: our shoey was 🔥

y/n.user: hell yeah

landonorris: what about me and you daniel? :(

danielricciardo: sorry lando

maxverstappen1: why is daniel acting like a teenager again

y/n.user: cause I changed him

user38: you really did

user3: I love this new version of danny

y/n.user: me too

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 673,939 others

caption: enjoying summer break with the best people. y/n can drink!! I'm not serving alcohol to minors

view all comments

user83: daniel and his humour lol

y/n.user: baby u know that I can drink for a long time right?

danielricciardo: uhm of course

landonorris: he probably forgot your birthday

user63: yall stop hating and be happy for them

maxverstappen1: u kidnapped child?

danielricciardo: that's my nephew u idiot

maxverstappen1: oh sorry

y/n.user

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 345,388 others

caption: I want to have kids. Look at my man. He's so girl dad coded

view all comments

user73: uhm does she know that this is public account?

danielricciardo: Y/N?!

maxverstappen1: lol

maxverstappen1: @ danielricciardo u have a lot of work to do

danielricciardo: mate, kelly wants another kid too so shut up

user3: omg danny ric kid?

y/n.user: I hope

BONUS:

2K notes · View notes

kbwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently.

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth.

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds.

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest.

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him.

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face.

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was.

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #kbwrites #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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multific · 3 months ago

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His Love

Marcus Acacius x Reader

Summary: You were meant to marry him, thinking he is an unkind man, you kept your distance from him, but soon, you learned the truth.

As the sun cast its golden rays over the bustling streets of ancient Rome, Marcus Acacius, a bold Roman soldier, crossed paths with you, his soon-to-be wife.

At first, your heart held nothing but hate for this man, seeing him as a brute and unkind soul.

However, destiny had a different plan in store for both of you.

In an unexpected turn of events, you discovered that he was nothing like your initial judgment had led you to believe.

Beneath his hardened exterior lay a heart filled with kindness, compassion, and a burning love for you.

You wanted to explore that.

To see where it would lead the two of you.

And so, you began to spend more time together.

You ate together and even went on many walks around the city. Seeing him interact with people made you realise just how kind he was.

Watching him smile spread a warmth inside your heart.

Slowly, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble.

Marcus's gentle words and thoughtful gestures slowly melted away your worries, allowing love to blossom inside you.

In the tender moments shared, he revealed his vulnerability and how deeply he had fallen for you.

One evening, Marcus took your hand and whispered to you.

"My love, I know that our journey together began with animosity, but I promise you, my intentions have always been pure. I am here to protect you, cherish you, and love you with every fibre of my being."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words.

"Marcus, I never imagined that behind your cold facade, there would be such a loving heart. I am grateful for the person you have shown me, and I too must confess, I have fallen deeply in love with you."

From that moment forward, your lives intertwined as you embarked on a journey filled with love, trust, and unwavering devotion.

Your wedding was simple. Your family was there, and you had a great time.

But you were just thankful for the journey ahead of you with a husband so loving, kind and handsome.

In the years that followed, amidst the madness of war and the difficulties of life, Marcus remained your dedicated rock.

His unwavering support and unwavering love carried you through every storm, reminding you of the depth of his commitment.

Of his Love.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #Marcus Acacius x Reader #marcus acacius x y/n #general marcus acacius #gladiator marcus #marcus acacius #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x female reader #gladiator marcus acacius x reader #gladiator marcus acacius #gladiator marcus x reader #gladiator marcus acacius x you #gladiator x reader #gladiator ll #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator movie

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star-sim · 1 year ago

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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks.

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly.

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned.

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot.

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed.

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #niki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki imagines #riki fluff #riki x reader #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki fluff #riki enhypen #riki nishimura #star-sim #vanya-writes

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hencheri · 26 days ago

Text

make you mine

18+ mdni.

You've never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jay, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's been hiding.

pairing: jock!jay x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dubcon, implied inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex, jay's kinda mean but hey he's evil so ain't my fault lol.

a.n.: jennifer's body au cause why not. old fic from an old blog, but it's still my fav of all time <3

Jay thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart.

Oh, but that’s what actually happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in.

Well, is it still even murder if he survived?

It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can put his hand on, and god, why does the person on the other side of the street look so… edible?

He feels the dried blood that dripped from his mouth stick to his skin as his hands are stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and so he approaches the person faster.

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jay gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human.

He was revived from the dead, there’s nothing human about him anymore. Nothing.

He has an idea as to why this happened.

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work. He’s still very much alive.

He’s cursed now, that’s for sure. Or whatever the hell is happening to him.

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man.

He suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach.

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired.

What’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that?

That’s fucked up.

The next few days are horrible for Jay.

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that are just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either.

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone.

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat.

There’s one thing he’d want, though…

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do.

iseul: hey, jay. wanna study together for the finals?

—-

“Hey, man,” Jay’s teammate, Jungwon, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he says, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jay replies, not really caring, but still listening.

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad.

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family.

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive…

Jay rolls his eyes without Jungwon noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jay explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom.

Jungwon still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jay’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is.

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jay has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him.

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after.

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years.

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder.

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation is while the professor waits for the power to get back on.

Jay’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a look, reading the text he just received.

jungwon: practice’s canceled..

Great, Jay thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today.

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently the power isn’t coming back for a few hours.”

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach.

While exiting the classroom, Jay gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly.

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jay mumbles and you give him a straight smile.

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing the curves of your silhouette, memorizing it.

—-

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every now and then.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam.

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it’s starting to get really long.

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing.

You don’t really know what to think of the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to be a witness of it.

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit.

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library.

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here either.

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice.

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jay.

What’s weird is that you didn’t hear him at all, you could have sworn you were alone in the library. You suppose he’s a really quiet walker.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him.

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jay is very tall compared to you.

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy.

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder.

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a small voice.

“Me neither,” Jay replies.

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way…

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves.

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator.

You’re the food he was looking for.

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away.

“Jay-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running down your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up.

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours.

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth.

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jay faces you again.

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement.

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt then, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.”

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, putting it around your neck instead. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his slender fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face.

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

He graces the bump of your pussy with his knuckles, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear.

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘please’ that makes him chuckle.

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…”

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure.

Jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes well up in tears, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted.

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain…

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this.

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you.

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking.

Jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more…

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought of tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done if not for Jay.

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought.

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact.

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a moment, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs.

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jay pulling the zipper of his pants down.

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question, “yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down.

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping entrance. His right hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library.

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big.

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all.

“Jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles.

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone else here apart from the two of you anyway.

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restraint. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jay’s drilling his cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in.

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever missed out on you… You’re so- fuck,” Jay chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say.

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder.

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm.

As he thrusts into you, his balls slap your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough.

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jay doesn’t care, he just wants it.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves.

—-

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down in your notebook while lying on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running.

The ringtone of your cell phone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show that it’s a number from your area, so you pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly flirty.

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly.

“... Jay?”

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now.

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.”

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jay.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this supposed ‘animal’.

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jay was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been.

Every time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long.

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were there.

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jay was doing fine again.

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else.

Jay’s an incubus.

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?”

“Asked Jungwon for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Jungwon was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jay hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?”

“Wanna go out with me?” Jay proposes after a few seconds of silence.

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea…

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jay. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him.

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway.

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up.

—-

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end.

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jay showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet.

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jay behind you.

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jay is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him.

“Jay,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly.

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip.

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch.

“I saw… I saw Kazuha and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face.

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow.

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jay gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore.

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

Is he really guilty? He has to be. You know he is.

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jay registering your words.

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel so good, baby…”

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you.

But you get back to your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You could have had everybody you wanted, Jay,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil.

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

This angers you to a point…

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before.

You open it and you rush toward Jay, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground.

Jay also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can.

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife through the dirt and dead leaves. When you find it, you get back up and to Jay, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared.

#tw dubcon #— ☆ starring enhypen #w/ jay !#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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i-am-baechu · 21 days ago

Text

❀˖° Title: Never Knew I Needed

❀˖°Paring: Idol! Yoongi x Introvert! Reader

❀˖° Rating: PG - 16

❀˖° Summary: Yoongi had his life planned out for himself. Studio. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. He always knew what he needed to do or what needed to be done but it all changed on a Tuesday morning with a girl who clumsily knocked into him.

❀˖°Genre: Fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slow-burn, reader keeps to herself, florist reader, some steamy scenes but nothing too crazy in this one

❀˖° Playlist: Never Knew I Needed - Ne-Yo

❀˖° Author's note: Second longest one shot I have ever written! When I say slow-burn, I mean it.

There’s something about the early mornings that brings this inner peace. It was quiet but not too quiet. It was cold enough to have a blanket around while you looked at the window with a cup of hot coffee waking up your soul, it was perfect. It also allowed you to plan out the day, that’s what Y/N did. She took advantage of the early mornings and got everything planned for herself. She knew of course stuff happened and something may not get done, as long as there was an attempt; That’s all that matters for her.

She styled her hair and put her glasses on to finally get on with the day. She had a busy day today. A lot of idols ordered from her flower shop; Stardust and apparently today was one of those days that everyone needed flowers. She didn’t know why but she wasn’t going to question the business. She walked down her apartment stairwell with her music playing through her headphones. It was like any other day.

She walked to the bus stop and smiled to herself. She took off her headphones and waved, “Good morning, Meria.”

Meria was one of her closest friends, though she didn’t have many; Meria was top three. Meria was the star football player in their college days and was 7-2. Meria left the sport because she wanted to focus on something less focused on her limbs. Meria agreed to open Stardust with Y/N and never regretted it.

Meria took the bun out of her mouth and waved, “Good morning~. Hazel and Nora are already at the store. They wanted help with some of the orders.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and tilted her head, “They’re already there?” She glanced down at her watch and looked back at Meria, “It’s seven...that means they woke up super early.”

Meria nodded her head and took another bite of her bun, “Hazel was determined to get there before you and Nora wanted to get breakfast.”

Y/N pouted at this, “They didn’t have to do this...I have to-”

“Y/N, shush. They wanted to help you, they love you. Don’t feel bad. Now get on this bus before I throw you onto it.”

Meria, Hazel, and Nora were Y/N’s top three friends (and her only friends if she was going to be honest). Hazel was always keeping Meria and Nora in check with their teasing, something Y/N greatly appreciated. Hazel was also the first one to approach Y/N during their freshman year. Nora was the youngest in the group but she was also the brightest. Having an IQ of 120, she was bright but she was lazy. She barely showed up at her classes but would sleep at Y/N’s dorm as they ate breakfast together. The girls were always together, the perfect group of friends.

Y/N nodded her head and glanced at the bus, “Can I have the window seat?”

“Of course you can, my little daydreamer.”

On the other side of the city, Yoongi let out a loud groan. Apparently, his music file was corrupted which means his hard work was nowhere to be seen. He ran his finger through his hair and glared at the screen, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Namjoon glanced at Hoseok who just shrugged his shoulders. Namjoon walked behind Yoongi in his chair and rubbed his shoulders gently, “You should walk away for now. It’s not going to be solved if you stay mad at it. If anything, you might make things worse.”

Yoongi sighed and took a sip of his coffee, “You want buns for breakfast?”

Hoseok nodded his head at this, “Nora Bun’s open in a few minutes. They have really good red bean buns.”

Yoongi stood up from his chair (with a little stretch) and put his beanie on, “Whatever will get me out of here, I don’t care where we go.”

Hoseok scoffed at this, “Let’s go sunshine.”

Namjoon sighed and rubbed his forehead, “It’s too early for this, let’s get food.”

Yoongi put his jacket on and glanced down at his phone, “Did you order the flowers for TXT?”

Namjoon nodded his head, “Yeah, Stardust was super busy. I just hope they’ll get here.”

“Y/N is really good at being on time. You don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi closed his studio door and glanced at Hoseok with a raised eyebrow, “Y/N? Who is that?”

“She’s one of the owners of Stardust. Super nice and awkward. Fun to tease.”

Namjoon shook his head as they walked down the hall, “I tell you all the time to leave her alone.”

“Why haven’t I met her?”

Namjoon glanced at Yoongi and shrugged his shoulders, “You never come out of your studio.”

“Whatever, just make sure the flowers get here.”

Y/N opened her door and smiled at her friends who were hard at work, “Good morning...thank you for coming.”

Nora was the first one to look up from her work. She gave Y/N a thumbs up, “Don’t worry. We’ll always got your back. I brought some buns from my shop here.”

Meria put her coat up and pointed her finger at Nora, “You told me you weren’t bringing any buns so I just ate one on the way here. How could you do this to me!?”

Nora let out a small chuckle, “I brought it for Y/N, you idiot.”

“Idiot!?”

Hazel snapped her fingers and glared at the two, “Yah! This isn’t why we came early, Nora.” Hazel turned towards Y/N and gave her a soft smile. She walked towards the shorter girl and gave her a small hug, “Good morning, Y/N. Would you like some red bean buns?”

Y/N nodded her head, “That sounds wonderful...”

After breakfast, Y/N put on her apron and got to work. She let the soft jazz play through her store and she ignored the bickering between Nora and Meria. Y/N smiled to herself and looked down at the paperwork, “These bouquets go to Hybe for TXT. It says Kim Namjoon ordered it, Meria, can you take this order?”

Meria nodded her head, “You don’t want to see Hoseok?”

Y/N took a sip of her water and shook her head, “I have too much work.”

Nora smirked at this and leaned forward on her table, “You don’t want him to tease you.”

Y/N looked away and picked up the next order, “I’ll do the order for Itzy, Nora can you do this order for Aespa’s Music Core performance.”

Nora nodded her head and took the paperwork, “Whatever you say, boss.”

“Thank you.”

Meria took the bouquets and smiled to herself, “Congratulations on the new release. Aww, that’s so nice.”

“Meria don’t read the note. It's private”

Meria rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “Fine boss.”

Hazel handed Y/N another order and grabbed her keys, “You're driving with me, Meria. Let’s go.”

“What!? No, I promise I’ll get there-”

“Let’s go Meria.”

Y/N gave them a small wave and continued to do the countless orders. Driving with Hazel was like driving with your mom, she would ask you how’s your day and all that. It made Meria laugh because they lived together, and Hazel knew everything. They parked in the employee parking lot and Meria groaned, “I really hate coming into this building.”

Hazel put the parking paper on her dashboard and glanced at Meria, “Why?”

“It’s so tempting to talk to everyone. That’s why Y/N usually does it because she doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Just don’t talk to anyone.”

“That’s so hard to dooooo~.”

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee as Namjoon took a bite of his bun. They were walking back to Yoongi’s office when they saw the bouquets of flowers making their way towards them. Yoongi tilted his head and wondered if this was Y/N (not that he cared...). Hoseok was the first one to greet her, “Hey Meria, where’s Y/N?”

Meria pouted at him, “She had too many orders to come down...so here I am. Hazel told me to hurry up and not talk as much.”

Namjoon let out a laugh and handed Hoseok his bun to sign for the flowers, “Tell her we said hello.”

“I’ll do that.” Meria glanced over Namjoon’s shoulder and saw Yoongi, “Hey you're the cat in BTS.”

Yoongi felt his eye twitch and he raised his eyebrow, “Cat? The hell?”

“Yeah, people say you're a cat. I don’t know what the internet says. Little meow meow or something like that. ”

“Don’t call me that. Why would you-”

Meria took the clipboard and smiled at Namjoon, “Thank you Mr. Kim. Hazel is texting me and she scares me. Have a good day!~”

Yoongi watched the girl leave and shook his head, “Little meow meow...what the hell.”

“Just get back into your studio before you fight someone else.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Y/N was walking to her bus stop after the long day she had. She had around 120 orders to fulfill and she couldn’t believe that she got all of them done in a timely manner. She put on her headphones and waited for her bus. She looked up to the moon and gave it a soft smile. The moon was warm even though to others it was cold, the moon was Y/N’s favorite after a long night. She swiped her keychain and headed towards the back in the small corner that she loved oh so much. She told Meria that she didn’t want to go out for dinner, instead, she wanted to go home to her cat, Tuna, and have some tea. Meria understood that Y/N needed to unwind and didn’t push her.

She stared outside as the streetlights shined against her skin. She watched groups of people walking on the sidewalk and she smiled to herself. She watched one group of guys laughing and pushing each other while one rolled his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel envious of their energy but she shook her head and glanced down at her phone.

Yoongi glared at Taehyung and sighed, “Yah, can you walk properly? We’re in public.”

Taehyung pouted and stopped himself from pushing Jungkook, “Jungkook pushed me first. Why do you always let him do what he wants?”

“Just keep walking.”

Yoongi glanced at the bus next to them and he couldn't help but squint his eyes towards the silver vehicle. He wasn’t sure why but there was something about it, “Hyung! Are you coming?”

He glanced at Taehyung and nodded his head, “I-I’m coming.”

Y/N tossed her bag on the hook and made her way to her couch. She plopped herself into the dark purple fabric and closed her eyes. It wasn’t until she felt the soft hairs against her fingers that she opened them. She petted Tuna and smiled, “I’m home.” She glanced at the window and her smile faltered a bit, “I’m home...”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hazel loved her job. She really did but sometimes it becomes too much. That’s why she asked the one person who would listen to her rant, Y/N. The Hybe building was like a castle that was beautiful on the outside but boy did it feel like a prison on the inside. Hazel ran her finger through her hair and took a deep breath. She went to the cafe downstairs ignoring her coworker's glances. She sat in the far corner and swiped through her phone.

Y/N entered the building and looked around. It was clear that Y/N didn’t belong here. She made her way through the busy entrance and entered Hazel’s code into the building (it also made it easier that the front desk knew her). She quickly made her way to the cafe and ignored the pit in her stomach. It felt like all eyes were on her because it was clear she didn’t belong there. She saw Hazel in the corner and made her way to her. Y/N poked her shoulder and gave her a small wave, “I’m here.”

Hazel gave her a smile and stood up to give her a hug, “Thank you for making time for me. I appreciate it.”

Y/N nodded her head and sat in the chair, “I was worried. You usually don’t sound that distraught.”

Hazel sat back and sighed, “It’s so busy this time of year. Everyone is making their comebacks and they want me to try to schedule everything by next Thursday.”

Y/N frowned at this, “Isn’t that asking too much?”

“That’s what I’m saying...ugh. I don’t know what to do.”

Y/N bit her lip and glanced down at her fingers, “I could always help...”

“What was that Y/N?”

Y/N slowly looked up and gave her a soft smile, “I could always come and help...the store isn’t busy this week and Meria has the store under control. If you want?”

Hazel gave her a soft smile and placed her hand on top of Y/N’s, “You would help me?”

Y/N nodded her head, “I don’t like seeing you in such distress.”

Hazel smiled and clapped her hands, “Thank you Y/N. Let me buy you a muffin.”

Y/N watched Hazel jump out of her seat and she sat there blinking her eyes. She let out a small sigh, “What did I get myself into?”

“What the hell did I get myself into?” Yoongi glared at the screen while Jin gave him a proud smile next to him. Jin pointed at the screen and Yoongi had to stop himself from smacking it, “I fixed some of the melody for you.”

Yoongi glanced at Jin and then back at the screen, “This is completely different. When I asked for help this isn’t what I wanted.”

Jin crossed his arms over his chest, “I helped you. You could say thank you.”

Yoongi sighed and took a sip of his coffee, “Thanks...”

“That doesn’t sound convincing-”

“Hyung, leave him alone.”

Yoongi turned in his chair and looked at Namjoon who was giving him a worried look, “At least someone has some sense.”

“Yah! I helped you!”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “We have a meeting, let’s go.”

“Do I have-”

“Yes, now let’s go.”

Yoongi sighed and slowly stood up from his chair, “Fine. Who is it with?”

“It’s with Hazel. She wants to talk about scheduling.”

Jin stretched his body and nodded his head, “We just had our comeback, what more do they want?”

“Just go to the meeting before she yells at me. She’s scary.”

Y/N took a small bite of her cookie and listened to Hazel rant. It wasn’t until Hazel’s phone buzzed. She flipped her phone over and cursed under her breath, “I have a meeting in ten minutes. I gotta go, thank you again Y/N. It means the world to me.”

Y/N nodded her head, “I’m glad I can help...”

“I’ll see you tonight at dinner?”

Y/N bit her lip and looked away, “Maybe.”

“Just let us know, okay? We miss you but we get it, bye, bye.”

Y/N watched Hazel leave and when she was truly gone, Y/N looked through the window. I wonder what Tuna is doing...

Yoongi sat in the meeting room waiting for Hazel. He was just going through his phone but stopped when the door opened. Hazel gave them an apologetic smile, “I’m so sorry I was having breakfast with my friend.”

Hoseok's ears perked up at this, “Was it with Y/N?”

Hazel sat down and nodded her head, “Yes it was, and no, you can’t talk to her.”

Jimin pouted at this, “Why can’t we talk to her?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this, “You know her too?”

Jimin leaned forward and nodded his head at Yoongi, “Yeah, Y/N always sends us flowers during promotion. She’s super nice.”

Yoongi nodded his head at this, Am I the only one that doesn’t know her? That’s annoying...

Hazel rolled her eyes and opened her folder, “Let’s begin.”

Y/N walked down the street and entered Nora’s restaurant. She knew it wasn’t going to be busy because it was after the breakfast rush and lunchtime doesn’t start until one o'clock, so she had time to talk to Nora. She knocked on her office and there was no answer. Y/N opened the door to see Nora leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed. Y/N shook her head at this but couldn’t help but laugh, “Neh, Nora.”

Nora opened her eyes and gave Y/N a lopsided smile, “Ello, what brings you to my shop?”

Y/N sat in the chair and looked at the dark wood in front of her, “Hazel said you guys missed me at dinner…”

Nora sat up for this and let out a nervous laugh, “We do but you know…we don’t want to force you. If you go tonight, Hazel is paying.”

Y/N bit her together and played with her fingers, “I’m sorry…I didn’t realize that I was-”

“Y/N, we get it. Don’t put pressure on yourself just to make us happy. It won’t make you happy.”

Y/N nodded her head, does it make me happy to stay inside all day and night? I don’t even know if that’s healthy. Y/N glanced down at the picture framed and smiled, it was a picture of them in college. It was right after one of Meria’s games and Nora had a camera. She said she needed prove to her family that she had friends and was normal. She missed her friends but she couldn’t help the pit in her stomach from the outside world. It wasn’t fair to her nor to them.

She smiled at Nora, “Where are we having dinner?”

The rain was peaceful, it created a melody that either put you to sleep or put panic into your mind. Yoongi continued to flip his pen between his fingers as he stared at the blank pages. Nothing. He thought the rain would help him come up with something but this time around, he got nothing. He finally fixed the melody that was corrupted and he thought it was time to create a new song. Obviously, he thought wrong.

He stood up and left his studio. He walked down the empty hallways until he saw Jungkook walking towards him, “Hyung, do you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“To Stardust. I have to pick a bouquet for my mom.”

Stardust. That’s where… “Sure, I’ll go with you.” Curiosity was going to kill this cat, that was for sure.

Stardust was everything Yoongi expected it to be. It was a light pink store with flowers through the window and door. The smell of fresh roses took over all his senses. They walked through the door and Jungkook waved his hand at the girl at the register, “That’s Meria, she’s great. She’s one of the owners of this place.”

Yoongi nodded his head at the new information and walked further into the store. He glanced around to see countless bouquets and balloons. It was so colorful that it would make Hoseok look black and white.

“Ah, took your ass long enough.”

Jungkook pouted at her and rolled her eyes, “I just got your text.”

“So, I told you last night too.” Meria looked over his shoulders and smiled, “Hey, meow meow.”

Yoongi felt his eye twitch at this but gave her a polite smile, “My name is Yoongi.”

“No, I like meow meow. Kook, your bouquet was made by the one and only me.”

Jungkook gave her a shy smile and Yoongi noticed the little redness in his cheek but didn’t say anything. Jungkook signed some paperwork and when he finished he looked around, “Where’s Y/N?”

This caused Yoongi to look around and Meria shrugged her shoulders, “She told me she needed to help Hazel with something and I don’t know what.”

Yoongi glanced at Meria, “Hazel? She’s with Hazel?”

Meria raised her eyebrow and slowly nodded her head, “Yes? Why?”

Yoongi let out a small cough and shrugged his shoulders, “Just asking.”

Meria gave him a suspicious look but nodded her head, “Right, Jungkook follow me please~.”

Yoongi watched the two leave and he made his way to the purple lilacs. They were shining so bright under the light and he couldn’t help but wonder about Y/N. She clouded his mind even though he had never met her. For once he didn’t want to stay in his studio. He was going to meet Y/N, no matter what.

Y/N looked through the paperwork and glanced at Hazel who was stressed. It was Monday afternoon and even though they got most of it done there was still so much to get done. After four days of staying up, Hazel could finally see a dent in her work. Y/N frowned at her friend and gently took the folder out of her hands, “Hazel…maybe you should get something to eat.”

Hazel let out a sigh and nodded her head, “I do crave chocolate.”

Y/N smiled at this and stood up, “I’ll get you some chocolate chip cookies from the cafe. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it.”

Y/N smiled at this and grabbed her wallet and was off. She walked through the empty walls with awkwardness because she still didn’t know where to go. She walked down the stairs and took a sharp turn. She hit someone’s chest and she couldn’t help but gasp. She slowly looked up and she felt like a mouse.

“Y/N?” Hoseok gave her his signature smile and patted her head, “What are you doing here so late?”

Y/N glanced down at her shoes and then back at him, “I’m helping Hazel..”

“Oh, with scheduling? I knew she was having a hard time because she asked us directly what we wanted.”

Y/N nodded her head at this, “She overworking…I was going to get her some chocolate chip cookies from the cafe. I-I was wondering if you could-”

“I’ll help you, I’ll be your guiding light.”

Y/N glanced down and saw Hoseok's arm was still around her waist. Y/N shimmed out of his gasp and bowed her head, “Thank you. I could buy you something if you want.”

“Nope, I won’t let you buy me anything. Now follow me.”

They walked through the empty building and Y/N felt like she was in kindergarten following the teacher with rope. Hoseok opened the door and Y/N tilted her head, “Where are we?”

“In the back room of the cafe. I’ll get you those cookies for free.”

Y/N shook her head, “I-I can’t do that. It’s not right.”

“Y/N it’s fine.”

Y/N shook her head, “Let me buy…please.”

Hoseok sighed and nodded his head, “Fine.” Hoseok grabbed three cookies and glanced down at her, “These would taste so good if they were free.”

“They’re going to taste better paid.”

Y/N walked through the halls with Hoseok and he was talking about the upcoming comeback. She listened and she couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Hoseok tilted his head at her, “You know you remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“Yoongi. You guys are very similar.”

“Yoongi? Is he the cat one?”

Hoseok let out a loud laugh and patted her back, “That made my night.”

She looked at him with a confused look but slowly nodded her head, “You're welcome?”

Yoongi let out a sneeze and Jin raised his eyebrow, “Someone is talking about you.”

“Shut up with that myth. It’s not real.”

Jin shrugged his shoulders, “Fine be a Debbie downer.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and continued to look through his files. He couldn’t help but wonder who was talking about him (not that he cared…).

“Meria, can you please help my cousin with football? He won’t leave me alone.”

Another dinner and Y/N nervously accepted it. It was the second dinner in a row that she went and it was Hazel’s choice this time. Hazel picked the ramen place near her work in case she had an emergency meeting.

Meria slurped up her noodles and looked at Hazel, “Doesn’t he have a team to do that?”

Hazel played with her noodles and shook her head, “Half of his team has their own private coaches to help them out. Every time he asks they ask him why don’t you have a private coach.”

Meria sighed, “I can make time.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Y/N took a sip of her water and glanced at Hazel, “Have you met Yoongi?”

Hazel raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Yeah, why?”

Meria glanced at Nora and had a mischievous smile, “I know Yoongi was looking for you the other day.”

Nora smirked at this and looked at Y/N, “Oh? Interesting.”

Y/N felt her face get hot and looked away, “I never met him…I was just asking.”

Hazel gave her a gentle smile, “He’s kind of like you but more blunt.”

Meria leaned back in her chair with a smirk, “Maybe you’ll guys meet and fall in love.”

Hazel kicked her shin under the table and looked back at Y/N, “Maybe you'll meet when you're over helping me out.”

“Maybe..”

Tuesday mornings were always difficult for Y/N. It was the day when she went to therapy and talked about her problems. She loved her friends but she just didn’t know how to tell them how she was feeling. She knew they were all ears but she didn’t want to burden them with her problems. So she was paying someone to listen to her and it made her feel less guilty. Problem solve.

She took a sip of her tea and headed into the Hybe building. She had her headphones playing comforting music as she made her way to Hazel’s office. As she made her way through the crowd of people, on the other side Yoongi was walking with Hoseok to the cafe.

“I’m just glad you're finally taking a break.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “I was craving something.”

“Like what? Pure caffeine?”

“Actually no, I wanted the chocolate chip cookies.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrow and let out a chuckle, “Yesterday, Y/N wanted the same ones.”

Yoongi stopped in his tracks and looked at Hoseok with wide eyes, “Y/N?”

Hoseok stopped and turned towards him, “Yeah, she was here helping Hazel.”

“You took her to get cookies?”

Hoseok nodded his head, “Yeah, she wanted to get some cookies for Hazel because she was working really hard.”

Yoongi nodded his head and started walking, “That’s nice of her.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

Y/N entered the office and gave Hazel a small wave, “Good morning.”

Hazel looked up from her papers and smiled, “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Y/N put her bag down on the floor and looked at Hazel, “Sure?”

“I ordered some muffins in the cafe downstairs. Can you pick them up for me?”

Y/N put her arm back into her jacket sleeve and nodded her head, “Under your name?”

“Yes, thank you. I wanted to get you that chocolate muffin you like so much.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back.”

Y/N went back out and made her way through the busy hallways. She liked it better when there were fewer people, it was easier to navigate. Y/N walked down the stairs as her music played through her white headphones. She made a sharp turn and she hit someone’s chest. She blinked her eyes and slowly looked up to see dark brown eyes already looking at her, “Oh, Y/N, Hey.”

She looked to the side and saw Hoseok giving her a small smile. She slowly turned her head and quickly backed away with a bow, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi looked Y/N up and down, honestly, he didn’t know what he expected. She was dressed in all black (besides her headphones) but her glasses were light pink. She kept averting her eyes away and he couldn’t help but tilt his head at her. She had this comforting aura and he wanted to learn more about her. She seemed mysterious but at the same time an open book. He could tell right away that she had social anxiety just with the way she was standing but he couldn’t read her eyes. He wanted to read her, he wanted to understand her. She gave him an awkward bow and said sorry again before making her way to the cafe. Yoongi turned his body to watch her and Hoseok couldn’t help but smirk at his friend, “You met Y/N.”

“Ye-Yeah, I met Y/N.” Yoongi let out a small cough and turned around to quickly walk off before Hoseok said anything else. He knew this session was going to be long.

Yoongi continued to stare at his screen and he couldn’t come up with anything. He wouldn’t say it was writer's block, it was more like he was distracted. His mind went back to Y/N. Meeting her last week has really put him in a weird place. He only knew her name and he barely said two words to her. He closed his document and glanced down at his phone, 13:14. He has time to make a visit.

He grabbed his keys and headed out with his mask and all. He parked his car on the side and he went inside Stardust. He walked in but it wasn’t the peaceful sight that he walked into before. Y/N was getting berated by someone and he couldn’t help but glare, “Oi, leave her alone.”

The girl turned around and scoffed, “She shouldn’t be working in an industry if she can’t talk.”

“Well maybe if you clean your ears you can hear her.” Y/N smiled at this and she looked at shoes. Yoongi glanced at her when she did this and he felt his chest get lighter. Yoongi looked back at the girl and crossed his arms over his chest, “Are we done here?”

The girl scoffed at this and walked out but she made sure her shoulder bumped into Yoongis. He rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle when the door closed. Y/N looked up and gave him a small smile, “Sorry about that.”

Yoongi shook his head and walked closer to her, “You shouldn’t be sorry for someone else's actions.”

“Still...”

Yoongi pulled down his mask and gave her a small smile, “I didn’t introduce myself last time...I’m Yoongi.”

Y/N looked into his brown eyes and then at her flowers, “I know...meow meow, right?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “Yeah, meow meow. You already know me?” It’s cute when she calls me that.

Y/N looked back at him and nodded her head, “It’s hard not to notice you. You’re the one that sets the team in motion with your lyrics...especially with your skills at conveying emotions...”

“You...you noticed all of that?”

She nodded her head and looked down at her flowers. Despite the cold air from the AC, Y/N felt her cheeks begin to burn and she had to look away from his dark curious eyes. Throughout her final days at helping Hazel, she kept asking about Yoongi. Ever since Hoseok said she was like Yoongi she couldn’t help but be curious. All the stories that were told to her made her feel like an expert at knowing him but at the same time an amateur, “Well, you and the rest of the guys are kind of...kind of everywhere.” Y/N stammered out and she couldn’t help but play with her fingers, “I hear your music every day and it’s comforting-”

“You think my music is comforting?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

It was Yoongi’s turn to feel the heat from his face and he was thankful he wasn’t standing under the light. He rubbed his neck, “Th-Thanks.”

Y/N let out a cough and turned towards her flowers as she went through some paperwork, “Sorry...I talk too much.”

“I don’t think so.”

Y/N glanced at Yoongi over her shoulder and then back at her paper, “Did you have an order to pick up?”

Yoongi cursed under his breath, he didn’t think he would get this far with talking to her. Yoongi looked up at the ceiling and then back at her, “No, I just wanted to introduce myself to you. I felt bad I didn’t do it on that day and I’ve been thinking about-sorry I’m talking too much.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, “I don’t think so..”

Yoongi stared at her face when he saw her laugh and in this moment he was undeniably happier (he wasn’t going to tell anyone that...)

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“I heard you met Yoongi.”

Y/N eyes widened and she dropped the flowers onto the table. She let out a small cough as she picked them up trying to act like nothing happened, “I told you I went to get pizza after closing the shop early and then I went to Tuna's vet appointment.”

Meria pursed her lips and glanced at Hazel who was avoiding eye contact (she didn’t want to get ratted out), “That’s strange because an office lady that works god-forsaken hours saw Yoongi coming back with a small vase of flowers without any of his members around to annoy the peace.”

Y/N picked up the bouquet and hid her face, “I may have left out some details.”

Nora dropped her scissors, “What happened? The one time we didn’t come and help.”

“It’s not what you think...”

“Well it sounds like it was a good conversation” Meria joked as she walked towards Y/N’s table, “What happened? Pleaseeeeee telllll usss!~”

“This was an angry customer...” Y/N placed the bouquet back on the table and stared at the dark wood, “She was mad that my voice wasn’t loud and started to go off on me. Yoongi came and told the girl off, making her leave. We talked for a little bit before I had to get food and take Tuna to her appointment.”

“Wait...your appointment was at 15:00. You talked for two hours?”

Y/N shook her head at Meria, “I told you to stop going through the logs.”

“I’m nosy. That shouldn’t be a crime.”

Hazel scrunched her face at this, “It’s a crime.”

Nora rolled her eyes at this, “We’re getting off track.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about. Yoongi came in and told that girl off...he bought some flowers. End of story.”

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. When he came into my office afterward, that was the most I’ve seen him smiling without his members.”

Meria snorted and looked at Y/N, “You heard that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes (with her face feeling hot) and went through the paperwork, “No, I didn’t.”

Nora looked at Meria and then back at Hazel, “Should we go through the video to find the girl.”

“Nora, you’re not going through my security tape to find the girl. The three of you give me a headache.”

Hazel smiled at this, “You’re welcome.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling and shook her head, “Thanks.”

Three times a week, Y/N was at Hybe’s office helping Hazel with extra paperwork. Her office may be small but it was cozy with all her plants around. The new paperwork was on the business side and Hazel asked Y/N if she could help (since Y/N had a business degree). Y/N agreed because it got out of the flower shop and Meria asked her to take a break from the shop. She’s taking a break from her job just to be working another job. Sounds about right. She should be taking a break with her cat but she finds going through paperwork relaxing.

Y/N handed Hazel a stack of paper and smiled, “I finished another pile.”

Hazel smiled at this, “At this point, you should just work here.”

Y/N shook her head, “I just like helping you. I’m going to get some tea, do you want anything?”

“I’m good.”

Y/N made her way to the cafe and sat in the back with her tea as she went through her music. She closed her eyes as she waited for her tea to cool down a bit. She let her music take her to her daydreams. Just as Y/N was doing this, Yoongi walked into the cafe with Jin talking his ear off. Y/N passed the tables but he noticed Y/N in the back and he turned away from Jin to glance at her. He turned away quickly because he didn’t want to hear Jin’s teasing. They stood in line and nodded their head at Jin but Yoongi couldn’t help himself to glance at Y/N.

Jin stopped talking when he saw that Yoongi wasn’t paying attention and followed his eyes. It all clicked when he saw Y/N. He heard the story from Jungkook and Hazel about his interaction with Y/N at her flower shop the other week. It was rare to hear Yoongi getting flushed with a compliment. Usually, he would play cool with them but to get flushed, never.

Y/N looked up and saw Yoongi looking at her. She gave him a soft smile and a small wave. Yoongi straightened up his back and gave her a small nod. Jin smiled and at that moment he found himself almost glad that Yoongi liked Y/N. (Not that he would admit but Jin knew all...obviously).

Y/N picked up her tea and made her way to Yoongi. She smiled at him, “Hazel told me you have a performance coming up.”

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been a while since we performed.”

Y/N glanced down and then back at Yoongi. She gestured for Yoongi to lean in closer and he blinked his eyes in confusion before he obliged. Y/N tilted her head to whisper in his ear, “I know this is biased but...I think you’ll be the best performer there.” Her hair whipped around her as she turned away from Yoongi and before she could walk away from Yoongi, she glanced at him, “Good luck.”

Yoongi watched her leave the cafe and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Jin rolled his eyes and let out a small cough, “Do you want coffee or not loverboy?”

“Shut up.”

The next day, Yoongi made his way to the cafe to see Y/N with her tea. Yoongi rubbed his hands against his jeans and took a deep breath. Y/N took a bite of her cake and looked up when she heard footsteps. She took off her headphones and smiled at Yoongi, “Hey.”

Yoongi waved and pulled the chair out to sit in front of her, “Weird question...are you good with computers?”

Y/N tilted her head and nodded her head, “It depends. What's up?”

“Just having issues with saving.”

“I can take a look but I can’t promise anything.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

They walked back to his studio and the two made small talk. She was telling him about her cat and he was telling her how he wanted to adopt a cat. A black cat to be specific. She looked down at his doormat and laughed, “That’s very you.”

Yoongi smiled to himself as he entered the code, “It was mostly towards Jimin and Taehyung.”

“I’m sure they got the message.”

He closed the door and Y/N looked around. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but seeing real machines that make music left her in awe. She didn’t even know what they were called. She stood awkwardly and Yoongi spun the chair for her to sit. She gave him a small smile and sat in the black chair. She pushed herself near the computer and glanced up at him, “What did you want me to look at?”

“My music file...It was corrupted and I was wondering if you could help me. Hazel said you were good with computers.”

Y/N shook her head at this and placed her hand on his mouse, “I wouldn’t say good...tolerable would be better.”

Yoongi took another chair and sat next to her, “I would say good.”

“You haven’t even seen me work on computers.”

“So, I just know it's going to be good because of you.”

Y/N felt her face turn hot but she shook her head and faced the computer, “I’ll try my best.”

Y/N went through his computer and it wasn’t until she felt his hand on top of her other hand. She wanted to glance down but she knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stay in the room with him. After twenty minutes, she figured it out. Yoongi moved his hand and she turned towards him with a smile, “I figured it out.”

Yoongi smiled at her and looked at the screen, “Thanks, I’ve been having trouble with this stupid thing.”

“I’m happy I was able to help you. I have to go, Hazel’s texting me.”

Yoongi stood up and put his hands in his pocket, “Yeah, go ahead. Thanks for helping. I really appreciate it.”

Y/N looked away from his brown eyes because she felt like if she looked at him, she would steam up. She nodded her head and gave him a small wave as she closed the door, she didn’t hear the footsteps.

“What did Yoongi need?”

Y/N jumped slightly and placed her hand over her heart. She turned to see Namjoon with a curious look, “He had trouble saving this corrupt file...I helped him.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow at this, “Corrupt file? Yoongi fixed that a while ago.”

Y/N felt her body get hotter and she slowly nodded her head, “Oh? I-I’m glad I could help.”

Hazel had snuck the girls into the after-party of BTS performance in the Hybe building, but the energy in the room was so excitable that no one even noticed them. The soju and beer was flowing and Y/N noticed some younger trainers enjoying the loudness. Y/N took a sip of her water and let out a small laugh when Jimin told her the story about Jungkook the other day at the gym. She leaned her tired head on Nora’s shoulder as she listened to all the stories being thrown at her in the small circle.

Across the room, Yoongi stood with Hazel as he leaned against the wall with a beer. He glanced at Y/N and then at Hazel. Yoongi saw an opportunity and now that he was alone with Hazel he could ask, “So...Y/N.” Yoongi began, taking a sip of his beer to calm his nerves, “Is she dating anyone?”

Hazel let out a small laugh and took a sip of her soju, “Took you long enough.”

Yoongi whipped his head and stared at her with wide eyes, “How did you know? I thought I was being subtle.”

“That was you being subtle? It would be successful if I was blind.” Hazel emphasized, “Namjoon told me about the file thing.”

He felt embarrassment flow through his body, “Shut up...do...do you think I have a shot?”

Hazel raised her eyebrow and took a sip of her soju, “Y/N is the most genuine and kind person you’ll ever meet. She tends to keep things to herself and she tries to talk to us but she stops herself. I don’t even think she realizes she does it.”

“How do you know how she's feeling?”

“You take the time to get to know her. Between you and me...I think you might have a shot.” With that Hazel left Yoongi to join her friends from the other side of the room. Yoongi’s eyes searched through the crowd and he stopped when he saw Y/N laughing at something Meria said. “I think you might have a shot...”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Spring flew by and before she knew it she was heading to the airport to visit family like she always did for spring. Everyone came to say their goodbyes and she was surprised the whole group had time to see her off. She was talking to Meria but her eyes kept drifting to Yoongi who was talking to Hazel.

Her grip around Meria’s arm tightened and she looked down at her, “Nervous?”

Y/N nodded her head, “I hate going...”

“You love seeing your parents. Think of that and not the flight itself.”

“I-I’ll try my best. I just don’t like flying.”

Meria patted her head, “Just focus on your music or you can talk to one of us. Always here for you.”

Y/N nodded her head and she let go of Meria’s arm. She looked down at her phone and made a sharp turn but she collided with someone and nearly fell to the floor, “I’m so sorry-”

“Why is it that we’re always colliding with each other?”

Y/N looked up and saw Yoongi giving her that smile that she only saw on Run BTS! She let out a small cough, “I can be a little oblivious but I’m usually not this clumsy.”

Yoongi chuckled at her nervous smile and helped her back to her feet, “Why did you make a turn?”

She felt embarrassment go through her body and she looked down at her shoes, “There's this cafe that has a cake that I like.”

“Oh is it that strawberry cake with champagne?”

Y/N looked back up at him and her eyes were wide, “You remember that? I only mentioned it once.”

“I remember what you like, don’t worry.”

Jin looked over his shoulders and rolled his eyes, “Okay, lovebirds, Y/N you have a flight to catch.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the cafe, “Let’s get you that cake before you board.” He grabbed her hand and his other hand took her luggage. She glanced down at his hand and felt a surge of happiness through her body. She bit her lip and she softly said his name causing him to glance at her over his shoulder, “I was wondering...do you want to share your number with me so we can talk? If that’s okay.”

They entered the cafe and he ignored the teasing smiles from the group. He looked down at Y/N and gave her his gummy smile, “Yeah, let’s get your cake first.”

She sat on the plane and she glanced at her phone with a smile. She brought up Yoongi’s name and she took a deep breath, I just got on :)

Not even a minute passed and she felt her phone buzzing, Text me when you get there. Get some sleep. I know you worked late last night at the flower shop.

I will. Thanks for caring.

Always for you.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The trip to her parents was relaxing but it did feel strange not doing anything. During her time with her mom, she was taught how to knit. For someone who has never touched a needle, she was really good at it. She made everyone simple socks but for Yoongi she made him a beanie with a small Y on it. Summer was the time when Meria always had stuff planned for the group and usually Y/N would think twice about going. This year it’s different and Y/N was excited for whatever Meria planned. The summer felt slow but anything could happen with the summer sun blazing.

“A football match?”

Meria nodded her head and handed out jerseys from her bag, “Surprise”

Y/N glanced at Nora who shrugged her shoulders, “I didn’t even know she could afford these tickets.”

“Yah, I have ears.”

“Unfortunately”

Hazel put the jersey on and looked at Meria, “You do realize we have no idea what’s going on, right?”

Meria nodded her head, “My dad surprised me with these tickets and I wanted to go with my best friends.”

“There’s a catch.”

Hazel smacked Nora’s shoulder and looked at Meria, “What’s the catch?”

Meria shook her head, “No catch, I didn’t want to go with my brothers.”

When the group finally reached the stadium, they ended up having to climb more stairs than any of the girls anticipated. But the further they went up, Y/N ignored the ache in her thighs and focused on the excitement that was building up.

Meria was the first to enter the box and when she looked inside she let a small snort out, “This is going to be fun.”

Y/N looked at her with a confused look and walked in. Her eyes landed on the small group and she couldn’t fully recognize them until one of them fully turned, “Y/N?”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat when she heard Yoongi’s voice and she didn’t understand how he managed to get more attractive while she was gone. There was a small nudge on Y/N’s shoulder and she realized it was Nora who was pushing her forward because she was frozen in place.

Y/N waved shyly at Yoongi as she made her way over to him, “I thought I was going to see you tomorrow but this is a nice surprise.”

Yoongi glanced at Hoseok to make sure he wasn’t listening, “It is. I really liked the beanie by the way.”

She looked at him with excitement, “Really? You liked it? I’m glad it got to you. It was my first time knitting and sending something out like that.”

Yoongi opened his bag and pulled out the black-knitted beanie, “I’ve been carrying it around ever since I got it.”

Y/N felt her heartbeat get faster and she swallowed her spit, “Really? It’s not that special...”

“It's the most important part of my outfit. For every outfit.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, “I’m glad you like it.”

“Oi, Y/N, our seats are over here.”

Y/N turned around and saw Nora giving her that knowing smirk that she hated. She turned back to Yoongi and gave him a small wave, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, you will.”

The next day, Y/N saw Yoongi. He texted her to come and visit his studio and she couldn’t help contain her excitement. She looked down at the familiar rug and entered the studio. She saw Yoongi on his couch on his phone and she raised her eyebrow, “You're not on your computer?”

Yoongi looked up and locked his phone, putting it on the coffee table, “I was waiting for you.”

She hated the butterflies in her stomach and she tried her best to swallow some confidence. She twirled her fingers together and gave him a smile, “You said you wanted to show me something?”

“I do.” Yoongi made his way to his desk and picked up a bag behind his monitor. He slowly turned around and gave her a sheepish smile, “Don’t make fun of me.”

She glanced down at the bag and then at him as she blinked her eyes. He nodded his head and she gently took the bag. She slowly opened the black fabric and Yoongi could hear his heart through the silent room. She took out the knit with her initials and she glanced at him with a confused look, “Did...Did you make this?”

Yoongi rubbed his neck and nodded his head, “I went to visit my mom last week and I asked her to teach me...It was a quick lesson and I know-”

“I love it.” She put the beanie on and she gave him a wide smile with her eyes closed, “I really love it.”

Yoongi has never seen her do this type of smile and he could make a beat with how loud his heart was going. Y/N opened her eyes and knew the feelings she had for Yoongi couldn’t be pushed down any longer. And that was scary.

Later that evening, Y/N invited Nora over to finish watching Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. During the scene where Malfoy gets punched, Nora slowly turns towards Y/N on the couch, “You like Yoongi, don’t you?”

Keeping her gaze on the screen, Y/N was quiet for a few moments before, barely above a whisper, she asked, “How did you know?

“You're extra nervous around him and jumpy whenever you see Yoongi.”

“Am I that obvious?” Y/N questioned in a horrified whisper as she looked away from the screen to look at Nora.

Nora shook her head, “If you were more obvious, you would be with Yoongi at this moment.” Y/N glanced at the screen and then at her fingers as Nora continued to study her. Nora placed her hand on her thigh and gave her a comforting smile, “Why are you scared to admit you like him?”

“If I admit I have...feelings for him,” Y/N glanced at Nora, “Then he could be another person that could reject me...I can’t handle that.”

“Trust me, if you saw the way Yoongi looks at you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

In Hazel’s office, she was typing away when the door was open wide. She glanced up from her paperwork and raised her eyebrow at the scene. Yoongi was with Jimin and Taehyung, it was clear Yoongi was embarrassed but she didn’t know why.

She stopped typing and leaned back in her chair, “What the hell is going on?”

“Tell him to ask out Y/N already.”

“She talks about her every day and even re-read their texts. It's annoying.”

Yoongi pushed Jimin’s arm around his shoulder and scoffed, “I don’t do that.”

Taehyung turned towards Hazel and gave her a disbelieving look, “Hazel, he knitted her a hat.”

Hazel raised her eyebrow and let out a small laugh, “And she’s convinced that you don’t like her.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow, “What was that?”

“Nothing, just know, you're stupid.”

This dinner was different, Hazel invited the rest of BTS to it and Y/N was nervous and she hated the feeling of being nervous (well this was a different kind of nervous). Y/N sat at the table with Yoongi sitting next to her as she listened to the chatter around them. Yoongi glanced down at her and pushed some hair away from her face, “Deep in thought?”

Y/N looked at Yoongi and saw his dark brown eyes. Her chest started hurting and she knew she couldn’t hide her feelings for much longer. But right now, she's going to become the greatest actress in the world, “Just thinking about what I want. That’s it.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow and nodded his head, “What don’t you get that steak you like with the salad.”

He remembers... “Yeah, I was going to get that...”

Nora glanced at them and smiled. She leaned towards Hazel with a small smile, “I think it's going to happen soon.”

Hazel smacked Nora’s shoulder, “Don’t be so loud.” Hazel watched the two and how close they were getting, “But yes...I think it’s going to happen soon.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“A ball?”

Nora nodded her head in annoyance, “My father wants this grand ball for my birthday. So annoying.”

Meria glanced at Y/N and then back at Nora, “How dare he want to celebrate your birthday.”

Y/N took a bite of her steak and shrugged her shoulders, “It could be fun...you never know.”

Nora played with her meatball and rolled her eyes, “It’s in three days.”

Hazel choked on her pasta, “Three days? Your birthday is literally in two months. Why three days?”

“Complicated...”

Y/N looked at Nora with a shy smile, “Did you invite BTS?”

Nora smirked at her and nodded her head, “Of course I did.” She glanced at Meria and gave her a small smirk, “I bet Jungkook is going to ask you.”

Meria picked up the knife and pointed at her, “I could cut you.”

Hazel flicked Meria’s forehead and looked around the restaurant in embarrassment, “You can act like that in our houses but in public, come on.”

“She started it.”

Nora’s family was known throughout college as the rich ones. Nora thought it was annoying to attend parties or even socializing with people with the same status. They were boring in her mind. The girls have been to her ball before but nothing like this.

Hazel gave her a soft smile, “Was it because they forgot last year?”

Nora took a bite of her meatball, “That’s part of it.”

Meria raised her eyebrow at this, “What’s the other part?”

Y/N gently placed her hand on top of Nora’s, “You can tell us.”

Nora sighed and nodded her head, “They're going on a cruise and I won’t see them until next year. They just told me this yesterday.”

Meria scoffed at this and shook her head, “Assholes.”

Hazel gave her a comforting smile, “We’ll be together.”

Nora shrugged her shoulders, “I honestly don’t care about the party. I asked for all of my favorite foods and that’s all I need. Y/N and Meria will probably have dates, so Hazel is all mine.”

Meria rolled her eyes, “You're annoying, you know that.”

“I do.”

Y/N bit her lip and the thought of having a date and there was one person that she wanted to be her date. Hazel caught this and smirked to herself.

After dinner Hazel saw Yoongi going back to his studio and smiled to herself. She followed him to his office but put her bag in the middle of the door to stop it from closing. Yoongi raised his eyebrow and opened the door with his foot. His hands were already full with his notebooks because he was getting to write a song, “Hazel, what’s up?”

“I’m only doing this because I know Y/N is too terrified to do it herself. Plus, I know you're inevitably going to take her to Nora’s birthday ball.”

“Terrified to do what?”

“Admit she likes you.”

Yoongi dropped his notebooks and looked at her with disbelief, “Y/N likes me?”

“I’m not saying anything else.”

“You barely said anything.”

“I’ve said enough.” Hazel turned around to walk away and she knew Yoongi was following her. She turned around and looked at Yoongi with a know-it-all look, “Y/N likes you. Now do something about it, producer boy.”

Y/N was going to her flower shop after having her late lunch. She unlocked the door and was immediately met with Meria with a suspicious look, “What did you do?”

“First of all, ouch. Second of all, follow the candles to your office.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow and looked down to see the candles that Meria was talking about. She glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Is this a prank?”

“No, I wouldn’t prank...Hazel yelled at me last time. Just follow the damn candles.”

Y/N placed her coat on the coat hanger and did what Meria told her to do. She opened the door and saw Yoongi leaning against her desk with a nervous look. She tilted her head at him, “I’m glad it's not a prank.”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, “I have something to ask you.”

Y/N’s brain went into overdrive but she kept a calm face to him. She couldn't give her hopes up. Yoongi reached behind him and picked up a bouquet of purple lilacs. The calm face that she tried to keep on but it disappeared when the smell of lilacs hit her nose. She slowly walked towards him and her fingertips touched the petals. Yoongi watched her fingers trace the petals, “I-uh..These are for you.”

Y/N grinned brightly and accepted the flowers, “What’d I do to deserve these?”

“If I name all the reasons why you deserve these flowers then we would be here for eternity.” He took a deep breath and grabbed her free hand with his gummy smile, “Would you be my date for Nora’s ball?”

Y/N stared at Yoongi with shock. She couldn’t believe that Yoongi was sitting in front of her in the first place. She placed the bouquet of flowers on her desk behind him and interlaced their fingers together tighter with a soft smile as Yoongi returned the same smile, “I would love to be your date.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

She didn’t want to admit it but Y/N was weak at the knees every time she pictured Yoongi taking her to the ball. She felt like a girl in school when their crush asked them out (well she never had that but she watched netflix shows). She didn’t show anything to the girls but they could easily tell from the way she laughed much more and how she's more talkative, that something happened.

Nora let her borrow her old dresses and it was the most beautiful dress that she has ever seen. It was a light blue ball gown with asymmetrical neckline with floral embroidery all around the dress. Nora has never worn it but it felt like it was made for Y/N. Hazel was brushing Y/N’s with a soft smile, “You look beautiful.”

Y/N glanced down at the vanity and she felt the heat rise, “Thank you...you do too.”

The girls walked out of Nora’s room and walked down her grand staircase. Sometimes seeing how rich Nora was, shocked Y/N. She watched Meria make her way to Jungkook while Nora and Hazel went towards the drinks and she was alone until she wasn’t. At the bottom of the staircase, Yoongi stared at Y/N with pure shock. He knew she was pretty and she was a cute girl but this...this was different. Her glasses matched her dress and her hair was done perfectly. Even though the staircase had a dim glow, she was the brightest light he had ever seen. He made his way to her and grabbed her hand as she glanced down at their fingers. Yoongi stared at her and let out an awkward laugh, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/N felt her cheeks burning so much it felt like they were on fire. She gave him a shy smile and then she looked down at her tulle skirt.

“You look..you look beautiful.”

“You look amazing, Yoongi. I always liked you in a suit.”

Yoongi glanced at the others in the main room and then back at Y/N, “Shall we?”

Y/N nodded her head, “Yeah...”

She intertwined their fingers and made their way into the main room with all their friends. The music began to play and Y/N glanced at Yoongi, “You dance all the time...are you going to show me your moves?”

Yoongi gave her a small smirk and fixed his tie in a playful manner, “I can try, Ms. L/N.”

They swayed around the room with Meria and Jungkook behind them for most of the time. At the moment, Y/N didn’t see them. She saw Yoongi and only him. They continued to dance and he twirled her around once more causing her to laugh at the gesture. This continued for four more songs and Y/N took his hand to head out of the main room. Yoongi didn’t question it because it was time with her. She made her way towards the door and gave Yoongi a small mischievous look, “There’s a good hiding place. I know.”

They went through Nora’s parents' garden and Y/N sat next to the small pond with an abundance of flowers around them. Yoongi sat next to her and she leaned into him, “It’s peaceful here...I used to come out here all the time when I was sleeping over.”

Yoongi intertwined their fingers together and leaned his head against her, “Oh, Why?”

“I was overthinking...I couldn’t sleep because of it.”

“You tend to do that a lot...why were you overthinking?”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh and sighed, “I had a crush on this guy and...he rejected me. He was my first ever crush and he rejected me in a rude way. Not even nice and it made me feel like no one would...no one would accept me.”

“He’s an idiot. He can’t see the bright light that you are.”

She leaned away from Yoongi and sat up straighter giving him her full attention, “Bright light? Is that how you see me?”

“Bright light, the ending to my beginning...so much more.” Yoongi took a deep breath and he decided he was going to get over his fears, “I like you..I like you a lot, Y/N. I-I’ve felt this for a while now. I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t remember exactly when I started liking you. I just knew I liked you so much that music became my second thought. I don’t want to ruin anything-”

Y/N cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile, “You're not ruining anything.” She whispered before pressing her lips against his. The two broke apart and Yoongi couldn’t help but let his gummy smile show up. Y/N intertwined their fingers together and she stared at his fingers, “I’m not the best at talking about my feelings...I’m trying my best to show how I feel. I like you so much Yoongi and I want to be with you.”

“You do?”

Y/N laughed at his bashful smile and nodded, “I really do...I really do, Yoongi.”

Yoongi leaned down and she placed his lips on hers again with the moon shining against the pond.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The start of Y/N’s and Yoongi’s relationship was soft and sweet (ignoring the embarrassing moments from Jimin and Hoseok the night after Nora's ball). Every time Y/N saw Yoongi, she felt a good nervous. It wasn’t like before but she was still nervous. Yoongi would show up at her flower shop and surprise her with her favorite lunch or he would come to her apartment to play with Tuna. It was the perfect pace for her and she couldn’t imagine her affection to Yoongi to deepen but it did.

“What is this place?”

Yoongi gave her a chuckle and opened the door, “This is Hybe’s music room. This is where all the instruments are.”

She walked up the piano and played a messy melody as Yoongi watched in awe. She turned around and looked at Yoongi, “I’m so jealous of you. The fact that you know how to play piano. I wish I had learned.”

Yoongi pulled the seat out and patted the dark wood, “Sit next to me.” Y/N did what Yoongi said and watched his skillful fingers play a melody. She watched like how a painter painted his work and Yoongi couldn't help but feel his pride spiked up. He turned towards her and grabbed her fingers, “I’ll show you how to play.”

They played simple notes and Y/N leaned against him, “Has music always been your thing?”

Yoongi nodded and kissed the top of her head, “I’ve always loved music...It started as rap verses I would write at school or even making random songs in my room. I guess music has always been there for me. What about you, has flowers always been your thing?”

Y/N chuckled at this and nodded her head, “I love flowers. Each of them have different meanings and the combination of flowers can mean something...it’s so fun watching people’s minds come up with new combinations. It just shows how much they pay attention to the other person.”

“That’s cute of you.”

Y/N shyly looked down at the ivory keys and a question came to mind, “When you asked me out with the purple lilacs...did-”

“I knew what they meant.”

She stopped playing and turned to her side to face Yoongi, “You knew what they meant?”

“That’s why I picked them out...well I also picked them out because when I first came to your store, I saw purple lilacs under the light.”

“When was this?”

Yoongi pushed some hair off of her forehead, “When Jungkook needed to pick up an order. I came along...I came along because I wanted to meet you.”

“Me-Me?

Yoongi chuckled at her reaction and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Everyone kept talking about you and I never met you. I wanted to know you but it felt like every time I tried I just missed you. Then that day when you ran into me...I met you.”

“You never told me this.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing.”

She shook her head and cupped his face. She placed a quick kiss on his lips and smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Don’t call me that. I have an image to uphold.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “Well it's a good thing that things can change for the better.”

Yoongi nodded his head and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Changing my plans and being my perfect distraction. What more can I want in this world?”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It’s amazing how fast seasons pass when you don’t have anxiety building up. One minute it was fall and now it's winter again. Meria was finally going out with Jungkook after a wild proposal from him. Y/N helped Jungkook with the flowers but after that, it was all him. Stardust started to become busier because of the holidays and it felt like she hadn't seen Yoongi in forever. They’ve been together for seven months already and she couldn’t believe it. This was the first time she celebrated New Years with a partner, it was a good feeling.

Y/N was finishing cleaning the shop when the door opened. She smiled because she already knew who it was. She turned around and placed the broom against the wall. She quickly made her way and wrapped her arms around Yoongi as he gave her a tight squeeze. He kissed the side of her head and smiled, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Yoon.” He put her back down and she glanced down at her feet with shyness, “I saw your concept pictures...a suit?”

Yoongi smirked and ran his fingers through his hair. He did it just for her because he knew how much she liked him in a suit, “You like it?”

She slowly looked up and nodded her head, “I do...”

Yoongi wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head, “Just for you baby.”

“Do you want to go to my apartment or do you want me to go to yours?”

Yoongi released and thought about it, “I want to see Tuna.”

“Sometimes I feel like you're only with me for Tuna.”

“Maybe I am, Ms. L/N.”

Y/N smirked at this and kissed the tip of his nose, “Then I’ll tell Hazel.”

“I was joking, don’t do that. She’s scary.”

She finished closing up the shop and the two walked to Yoongi’s car. The drive to her apartment was filled with laughs and soft touches. When they entered her apartment, Yoongi closed the door and pushed her against the door as she laughed, “What you doing, Mr. Min?”

“Showing my beautiful girlfriend how much I love her. Is that okay?”

Y/N leaned in to place a passionate kiss against his lips. When she leaned away, she nodded her head, “Of course it’s okay.”

He picked her up and she let out a loud laugh as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Yoongi closed the door (making sure Tuna was outside) and gently tossed Y/N onto her soft blankets. He took off his shirt and slowly made his way to her. He towered over her and kissed her lips as if he was going to die if he didn’t. When moved away he kissed her cheek, “I need you here...always. I love you.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, this was the first time they said it. Yoongi looked at her shocked face and kissed her lips again, “You don’t have to say it back-”

“I love you so much Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi froze in his spot and glanced into her eyes, “Yeah?”

She nodded her head and cupped his face, “You made me realize I was missing something...I love you Yoongi.” She took his hand and placed it on her chest and he felt her heartbeat, “My heart beats like this for you...and only you.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, “Do you want to?”

She knew what he was asking and kissed his neck (the sensitive spot), “Yeah...”

He pushed her hair away from her face and smiled, “Whatever you want, baby.”

The next morning, Y/N woke up early to feed Tuna and to make breakfast. Yoongi walked out shirtless and he saw her cooking in his shirt. He couldn’t stop his heart from beating fast. He quietly made his way towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Can you shut off the stove?

“Why?”

He ran his fingers down and she felt his cold fingertips against her stomach. She bit her lip from moaning and he kissed the side of her neck, “I wanted to take a shower with you.”

“I can have a shower...and then eat.”

The breakfast that she was making was never finished and it stayed there until the afternoon. She blamed Yoongi for her wasting food.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Spring is when things are borned and Y/N experienced just that. Her Shop became plural. Stardust and Ethereal, the two light pink shops caught the eyes of anyone walking on the street. Spring time was a special time, especially the mornings. Mornings brought inner peace and it was the quiet that used to comfort her but now if she didn’t hear Yoongi’s deep voice saying good morning then the morning was ruined.

She styled her hair and put her glasses on to get on with her day. She walked outside and said her good mornings to Tuna and the newest addition Toothless (a black cat that Yoongi begged for). She walked into the living room and plopped herself right next to Yoongi who leaned down to give her a kiss on the check, “Are you ready to go to work?”

Y/N shook her head, “Ten more minutes. Meria can survive.”

“Can she? She’s already texting me.”

Y/N chuckled at this and stood up from the couch, “Fine, I guess I’ll go to work.”

Yoongi took his keys out of his pocket and smiled at her, “I told you no more bus. You got me.”

She let out a puff of air and nodded her head, “Fine, let’s go stubborn.”

Yoongi held her hand as they walked down her apartment stairwell while her headphones were softly in her bag. He listened to every word of her story and how busy it was today because it was the first day of spring. The countless orders from idols was nothing new but the sheer amount at both stores was new. Yoongi opened her car door and she gave him a kiss on his cheek. It was like any other day.

He placed his hand on top of her thigh as he drove through the semi busy city, “Namjoon texted me to get my ass in the studio before he locks me up in there.”

Y/N let out a laugh and stared through the window, “It was our date night. He knows the drill.”

“He said, " Who would’ve thought I’m telling you to work on music.”

She turned her head and gave him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry...am I taking you away too much?”

“No, you should just keep me in your room forever.”

“Is that where you want to be?”

“Honestly, anywhere with you, I’ll be perfectly fine with.”

Y/N opened her door to Ethereal and smiled, “Good morning, Meria.”

Meria turned around and glared at her, “You're late.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and placed her coat on the hook, “I wasn’t late and you know that.”

Nora pointed her finger at Meria, “She just came a minute ago. She was too busy with Jungkook in her-”

“Shut the fuck up Nora.”

Hazel sighed and walked up to the shorter girl and gave her small hug, “How was the ride with Yoongi?”

“Perfect.” Y/N clapped her hands together, “Okay, we have a busy day. We have multiple orders from SM and JYP. Let’s start with the biggest orders because that’s going to take us the longest.”

Nora nodded her head, “Yes boss. I bought buns, it’s in your office.”

“Thank you Nora.”

Y/N put her apron on and let the soft jazz play as she ignored the bickering between Nora and Meria, “These bouquets go to Seventeen at Hybe, Hazel can you take Nora for that?”

“Yeah-”

“I want to go to Hybe.”

Y/N looked at Meria and shook her head, “You just want to see Jungkook. No.”

Meria pouted and sat back down at her station, “Fine.”

She rolled her eyes and felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She took her phone out and she smiled when she saw Yoongi in the studio working. She never thought that his smile would bring her comfort nor would she ever experience his rare friendship. For the ending of her first beginning, Yoongi was everything she needed and more. She never knew she needed him and vice versa.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

She shook her head, “What was that, Meria?”

“Yoongi is here with your tea.” Y/N smiled at this and walked towards him placing a kiss on his lips, her accidental happily ever after and she was his perfect distraction.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Tag list:

@forever-atiny @wobblewobble822 @jajabro @busanbby-jjk @lynnnnnnn23 @dna-black-and-blue @amaroho @shinaely @ukndtwme

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts hosoek

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 2 months ago

Text

one last night

warnings/tags: mdni, non-graphic smut, emotional hurt/comfort

pairing: Luigi Mangione x f!reader

summary: All you want is one last night with Luigi before he would be taking the fall for a crime he helped orchestrate.

word count: 1.3k

author's note: Luigi, my man. This one's for you. No, this is not typically what I write, but I was inspired by everyone's favorite folk hero so here you go!

ao3 link: one last night

one last night

Luigi would be leaving soon and all you wanted was some time alone together before he had to go. Just one last night.

You and Luigi were childhood best friends. After he moved into your neighborhood, everything changed for you. Your family was the only one in the neighborhood with kids even close to your age, so you and your sister were thrilled when the Mangione’s moved in next door.

He was yours, now. When he could be. Which was much more often, once upon a time. The past year or so, he was so tied up in planning that you barely saw him. You understood, of course. The work was important, bigger than you, the finger that topples the first domino of many.

Even more than that, it was personal.

Luigi and your sister were the ones who were childhood sweethearts. Her death brought the two of you together. Grief is funny like that. Hers was a claim of many that was denied all so a billionaire could become wealthier. A somewhat experimental procedure could have saved her life - it also could have killed her, but she was dying anyway, and the reward far outweighed the already inevitable risks. Your parents couldn’t afford it uncovered. You never got the chance to see if it would have been worth it.

It was important work. Knowing this didn’t help you worry any less. It didn’t help the jealousy you felt sometimes. It was hard being with someone who was made for such bigger things than a mundane life. Sometimes you wished Luigi was just a normal man so you could be sitting down with him for a quiet dinner on an average weeknight rather than force feeding him as his nerves grew, knowing this was your last night together for the foreseeable future.

It was important work, being the lover of a mastermind who was helping plan his very own demise. Yes, Luigi would be a folk hero, but it didn’t change the fact that it meant he would be facing the harsh realities of the criminal justice system. That was part of the point, though. You understood everything perfectly, as much as you were allowed to know for your own safety. You were oddly relieved that Luigi wouldn’t be the one to actually pull the trigger, though you agreed that it should be done. Everyone would think it was him. Everyone would unite behind him because of it. You weren’t prepared for the love of your life to be famous in this way, but you were endlessly proud of him. He was one of the strongest people you had ever met. Intelligent and kind with a wicked sense of humor. You glanced over at him from your spot in the kitchen as he loaded his backpack full of Monopoly money on the couch, trying to soak in every detail of his handsome face. His dark curls and that charming smile that could win over anyone he fixed it on.

You plated the cacio e pepe and grabbed the bottle of wine, walking over to sit beside him, “You have to eat, baby. Please. It might be your last good meal.”

He looked up at you through soulful brown eyes, “Thank you, love. I’ll try.”

The two of you ate together, but his gaze was still distant, brow furrowed. A look you knew meant he was deep in thought.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” You asked, elbowing him lightly just to see the corner of his mouth curl into a smile like you knew it would.

“Yeah? You’re not mad at me?” He looked at you bashfully. It was a conversation you’d had before.

“No, Lu.” You placed your hand on his knee to reassure him, “Never. I’m sad and I’m going to miss you more than you’ll ever know. But I’m not mad. Promise. Besides,” You reached down to take a sip from your wine glass, “I’ve already started planning my visitation outfits. I thrifted a really cool fur coat the other day, I think you’ll love it.”

“Baby,” He couldn’t help but giggle at your words, “You’ll be the hottest person there. Easily. No competition.”

“Just promise me you won’t fall for anyone in prison.” You stared him down, trying to look serious, probably failing.

“Never, darling. You’re it for me. Promise.” He gave you a quick peck on the corner of your smile, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I’ll miss you, too. Every day. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one.” You blushed despite the fact that it wasn’t even close to the first time you’d had the same exchange.

“Fine, we both are.” He concluded, standing up to clear the table. Once he returned, you saw the worry fall back over his face.

“Lu,” You caressed his cheek with your hand, “Baby, you’ve done all you can do tonight. Can we just spend one last night together? Please?”

“Sweetheart,” He breathed, leaning into your hand, taking a lengthy deep breath, “I feel like I shouldn’t but I have no good reason not to. You’re right, everything is in place. I think I’m scared to take my mind off it.”

“Let me take your mind off of it.” You offered, thumb tracing across his cheekbone. “We deserve to have this. You deserve it. You’ve worked so hard, baby.”

“Everyone has.” His eyelids fluttered open, his gaze meeting your own, “You included.”

You leaned in, lips grazing his as you spoke, “Just take the compliment for once.” You couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes, ma’am.” He whispered, his voice going raspy as his desire grew.

Your lips landed on his just like they had a thousand times before, but this felt different. You imagined this is how the last people on the earth might feel during the apocalypse. His lips turned fervent, tongue delving into your mouth, dancing with your own.

You sucked on his bottom lip and heat coiled in your abdomen at the groan he let out at the sensation.

Before you knew it, he was carrying you bridal style into your bedroom, laying you down gently on the mattress. He removed your clothes piece by piece, kissing every inch of you as he went. His own clothes followed. You tried to memorize every inch of his beautiful body as it stood before you, the knowledge that it would be the last time in a long time you would see him sitting heavy on your conscience.

He took you apart meticulously, like a seasoned watchmaker, orchestrating every move towards your release in perfect concert, winding you tighter and tighter until you were panting out his name as the waves of pleasure rolled over you again and again, right on time.

When he finally entered you, the stretch around his large size being one of your favorite sensations, maintaining eye contact as he landed his strokes, you felt tears escape your eyes. He wiped them away with gentle thumbs, shushing you sweetly. Eventually, he released inside of you, calling out your name like a prayer, a mantra he had practiced an infinite number of times before. You hoped he had gotten you pregnant.

The two of you cleaned up and returned to bed. Luigi pulled you tight to his chest, stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head, “You know you’ll always be my girl, right? No matter what happens. I’m yours, my love. For as long as you want me.”

“Luigi,” You sighed, not wanting to cry again, “I’ll always want you. I promise. Nothing can take that from me.”

“They’ll try.” He warned.

“They can try all they want.” You leaned up, planting a kiss on his jaw, “They can’t take Luigi Mangione from me. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you more.” He tugged you tighter to himself.

You knew he wouldn’t sleep well that night, but it didn’t matter, really. You were together one last time, and that was the only important thing to either of you in that moment. You had one another. Everything else was secondary.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione has a big dick #deny defend depose #luigi mangione smut

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senascoop · 3 months ago

Text

TIL DEATH DO US PART , S.JY !

PAIRING: husband ! jake × afab reader

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

GENRE: fluff + angst

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

WORD COUNT: 16.2K

FEAT: JAY from ENHYPEN + some ocs

MASTERLISTS ARCHIVE !!

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

DEAR JAKE,

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

With regret, Y/N.

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

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

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

Why couldn’t you have waited?

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

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

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

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

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

“She suits me well enough.”

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

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

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

“Please... Jake. I’m sorry...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you gave up.

A smile, then another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then the fall hits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What on earth just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But today isn't anything special.”

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

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

“Will this do?” she asks.

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

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

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Jake, no.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heck, it was funny for you to watch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should he lie down first?

Wait for you?

Or speak?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For Jake though,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 4th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a beat of silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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