#YOU ASKED ME IF I EVEN LOOKED FOR YOU. IN MY HEART I THOUGHT … I GAVE UP ON YOU﹐ & FOR THAT I AM TRULY SORRY. ( finch & shaw )

[songbirdseung]

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - ENHYPEN

REQUESTED BY AN ANON જ⁀➴ "wouldn't change it for the world" ⋆. 𐙚 ̊ req: love backstory of how dad enha meet their love of their life. from maybe being friends, enemies, strangers etc ᯓ claim your husband in the comments, lol ⤷ marriage, parent au

“daddy, how did you meet mommy?” your curious child looked up at his dad with wide eyes, waiting to hear the story.

heeseung “let me tell you, your mother? obsessed with me.” heeseung chuckles cockily, leaning back with his arms crossed. “couldn’t stay away from me.”

his words earn a glare from you as you fold laundry across the room. “fine, fine. i was the one dying for her attention,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

heeseung explains how you’d been a fan, watching him from afar at shows. and then fate. a random vacation in his home country. all you wanted was a quick convenience store run, but when someone rushed in and bumped into you, everything changed.

“oh, i’m so sorry,” he muttered, trying to hide himself.

“are you okay?” you asked, just before he tugged you behind the shelves, shushing you urgently. and that’s when you finally saw him, your idol, standing inches away.

“oh my gosh-”

“shh, please don’t scream,” he whispered, eyes wide. heeseung tells your son how that moment made his heart race, how he couldn’t stop staring, and how easy it was to keep talking to you after that. “i knew right then… i wanted to keep her close. always.”

jongseong “you see, son… mommy and i were childhood friends.” jay begins softly, choosing his words carefully. “back in seattle, when i was just a little kid, it was hard for me to make friends. but then mommy came along, smiling at me like i mattered.”

he explains how you’d knock on his door every day, asking to play, never letting him feel lonely. “she made daddy feel wanted.”

you two grew up side by side, until one day, he was suddenly gone.

“i didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he admits. “one morning, my parents said we were leaving, and… that was it. i was nine. i had no way to find her again.”

his voice softens as he recalls the reunion years later. “then, on my birthday… she walked in. out of nowhere. i thought i was dreaming.”

you smile from the kitchen when he pauses.

“she scared the f—”

“jongseong, language,” you cut in.

“sorry, mama.” he grins sheepishly at your son. “but yeah… seeing her again after all those years? it was like the universe gave me back the piece i’d been missing.”

jaeyun “your mommy hit me with a ball.”

“jake! it was an accident!” you protest, which only makes your son giggle harder.

“sure, accident,” jake teases. he paints the picture of high school gym, waiting for his coach, when bam. a basketball smacks him in the back of the head. he turns, ready to snap, and then sees you. “and i swear, i thought i was in heaven.”

you roll your eyes, cheeks warm.

“your mama hit me with a ball… and i fell in love.” jake laughs as he tells the rest, how you rushed to apologize and offered to make it up to him.

“that was my chance. i had to shoot my shot and this time, not with the ball.” your son giggles at his dad’s dramatics.

“i couldn’t let her just walk away, you know? she was right there!” you mutter under your breath, “your daddy’s overacting,” but you’re smiling anyway.

sunghoon “when i started ice skating, i used to get gifts from people. but there was one fan who never missed a competition. guess who that was?”

“mommy!” your son answers immediately, and sunghoon laughs, nodding. he explains how you’d drag your parents along to every event, cheering quietly, eyes always on him. “but she never came up to me. just watched.”

“so how did you finally talk to mommy?” your son asks.

sunghoon smiles, remembering. “i had to be the one. one day, i walked up to her after a competition. told her, ‘you’re really consistent, aren’t you?’” he chuckles at the memory.

“and suddenly… i wasn’t shy anymore. talking to her felt like breathing.” his eyes soften as he looks at you now.

“even when i became an idol, mommy never left. she always stayed.”

sunoo “mommy was my first love.” sunoo says it simply, but with a smile so soft your son tilts his head in curiosity.

he tells the story of high school sweethearts, how you were the pair everyone admired; good-looking, kind, always together. “but before we were that, i was just her best friend. the one hiding my feelings while she dated other guys.”

sunoo admits to the jealousy, the quiet heartbreaks, but also how he supported you anyway. “until one day… i couldn’t take it anymore. i told her she deserved better. and i told her i was the better.”

your son’s eyes widen at the drama, while you laugh softly.

“i showed up with flowers, told her everything i’d buried inside. promised her no one would ever treat her like i would.”

he leans back, pride in his voice. “and i’ve kept that promise every day since.”

jungwon “how i met your mommy?” jungwon laughs nervously, scratching his neck. “well… it’s a bit embarrassing.”

he explains how, as a trainee, dating was strictly off-limits. but then he met you. “i tried to follow the rules. i really did. but every time i talked to her… i fell a little harder.”

so you both kept it secret. quiet dates, hidden texts, pretending to be strangers in public. “i was scared, son. scared of being caught, scared of messing everything up. but i was more scared of losing her.”

jungwon looks at you across the room, eyes soft. “love makes you do stupid things sometimes. but when it’s the right person… you fight for it. carefully, but you fight.”

“just look at her, son. how could i ever have let her go?”

riki “mommy was a friend of your auntie,” riki starts, making his son perk up.

“so i saw her a lot when we were kids. she was bubbly, sweet… i was hooked.” you laugh softly at the memory, watching him explain.

“but then i left to chase my dreams. even if it meant letting go of my other dream.”

“other dream?” your son tilts his head.

riki smiles, ruffling his hair. “she was my dream, son. always.”

he explains how one night, during a long-distance video call, he slipped up. “i was tired, i missed her, and suddenly… i told her everything. that i liked her. that i wanted her.”

his son’s eyes go wide. “what did mommy say?”

“good thing i was cool about it,” riki smirks.

“cool?”

he leans back, smug. “your old man was a famous ladies’ man. you should’ve seen me in my idol years-”

“riki,” you cut in, rolling your eyes. “our son asked how you fell for me, not for yourself.” he grins, holding his hands up.

“and i did. the second i met her, i never stopped.”

[imtaashu]

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝙼𝚢 𝙳𝚘𝚐 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader ✦ Summary: It starts with a missing hoodie. Then a vanishing water bottle. Then your name shows up on Bucky’s dog tags. Everyone else sees what’s happening except you two. Until Bucky finally decides... maybe it’s time to make it official. ✦ Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Clingy & Possessive Soft!Bucky, Friends to Lovers ✦ Word Count: 2,005

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ✦✦ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ✦✦ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── It started with a hoodie.

A simple, black hoodie you swore you left folded on your bed, the one Bucky always teased you for because it was three sizes too big and swallowed you whole.

You searched your entire room. Twice. Even texted Wanda to see if maybe you’d left it in the common room.

Nothing. Gone. You let it go.

Until your water bottle disappeared two days later.

That one really ticked you off. Because it was your favorite mint green with a chipped lid and a sticker Sam gave you that said "Hydration or Damnation." No one else would want it. No one except maybe the six-foot emotional disaster who kept showing up at your door with sleepy eyes and soft hair.

Bucky Barnes had been acting… different lately.

Not in a bad way. Just in a Bucky's-being-suspiciously-possessive kind of way.

And it wasn’t just the hoodie. Or the bottle.

It was the way he saved you the last slice of pizza without being asked. The way he leaned against your chair during meetings, shoulder brushing yours. The way he always, always picked you as his partner during sparring.

The way he called you “doll” now soft and warm and like he meant it.

The team noticed before you did.

“Are you two dating?” Natasha asked bluntly over breakfast.

You choked on your cereal. “What? No.”

“She’s wearing his sweatshirt,” Sam said without looking up from his phone.

You blinked. “This is mine.”

“Nope,” Steve said from the fridge. “That’s definitely Bucky’s.”

You looked down at the grey crewneck. “Wait—what?”

And then realization hit you like a Quinjet: this was not your hoodie. This was Bucky’s. Soft, worn, smells-like-him Bucky’s.

You flushed. “He gave it to me.”

“He’s been giving you a lot of things lately,” Nat smirked.

“I—”

“Just kiss already,” Sam muttered.

You confronted Bucky later that day. Kind of. You marched into the gym while he was working a punching bag, his hoodie sleeves rolled to his elbows, metal arm gleaming under the lights.

“Hey,” you said, arms crossed.

He froze, then gave you that lopsided smile you hated loving. “Hey, doll.”

You held up your hands. “Where is it?”

He blinked. “Where’s what?”

“My hoodie. My water bottle. My dignity.”

He snorted. “Pretty sure I didn’t take that last one.”

You stepped closer. “Bucky.”

He lowered his gloves and gave you that soft, stupid look that made your heart do dangerous things. “Fine,” he muttered. “I borrowed the hoodie. And maybe the bottle.”

“And put your name in my sandwich last week?”

His smile grew. “That was just a test.”

You squinted. “A test?”

“To see if you'd notice.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

There was a pause. And then Bucky said quietly, “Did you mind?”

You hesitated. Did you?

Because lately, all his quiet touches and hoodie-stealing and closeness didn’t feel like an invasion. They felt like… home.

“I guess not,” you said softly.

He looked like he might say something else but then Steve walked in, spotted the two of you standing far too close, and made a sound between a sigh and a groan.

“Still not kissing?” he muttered. “Unbelievable.”

You thought things might settle after that. They didn’t.

Because one week later, you found your name on Bucky’s dog tags.

Not engraved. Not permanent.

But there, scrawled in faded Sharpie on the back: your initials.

You spotted it by accident, while you were helping him with a sprained wrist. He shifted, his collar dipped, and there it was shining, bold, quietly screaming.

“Buck?” you asked softly, thumb brushing the tag.

His eyes followed your gaze, then went wide.

“Oh,” he muttered.

You didn’t speak. Just looked at him.

He bit his lip, then sighed. “It’s dumb. I know. I just I wanted to keep you close. Even on the field. Like a good luck charm.”

Your chest tightened.

“I can take it off,” he said quickly. “Or scratch it out. I just—don’t be mad.”

“Bucky,” you said, stepping closer, “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m…” You took a breath. “I’m wondering how long we’re gonna keep pretending.”

He blinked. “Pretending what?”

“That we don’t want more.”

His breath hitched.

“I miss you when you're in the next room,” you whispered. “I look for you in meetings. I wear your hoodie and it smells like home. And now my name’s on your dog tags?”

You smiled. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That I’m yours.”

He exhaled shakily. “You are.”

“And you’re mine?”

He grinned, eyes soft and honest. “Since the day you stole my hoodie.”

Later, when he pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you mumbled against his chest:

“Does this mean I get a matching dog tag?”

He laughed, warm and low. “Baby, you can have the whole set.”

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💌

@nerdreader @starstruckfirecat @baguwagu @sunday-bug @murnsondock @7batsinatrenchcoat @overwintering-soldier @surebutwhy @embervelour @bananaminn @butterflies-on-my-ashes @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @okaytrashpanda @xamapolax @aceofheartsssss @the-real-kellymonster @mars-in-a-cup @doilooklikeagiveafrack @maifics @cjand10 @aesthetic0cherryblossom @rosemary-beach-babe @pattiemac1 @chriszgirl92 @heyrosh @morphoportis @sugamilkey @dreammiiee @riah1606 @suri-de-city @ordelixx @galaxygoddess30 @magnificentreviewdreamer @flowstatefic @prk-hoon @multifandomrandomgirl @sashaiz01 @kodzuminx @sarapolare @sinistersnakey @greatenthusiasttidalwave @najdjjfjjdid @thelastbluecookie @squishyfruitloop @cammiwu @livia087 @ang0320 @boomyoulookingforthis @nvr-land @ruexj283 🌸

wanna be tagged in all upcoming theories + emotional damage + forehead kisses? ➝ reply or send me an ask and i’ll add you ♡

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

[himezoro]

KISS ME SWEET ! - first kiss with luffy, zoro, ace, law and sabo !

tysm for your support on my previous headcanon, i'm so happy you enjoyed it!! ♡

this one is inspired by pastries and what would a kiss with the one piece men taste like. ofc, it is metaphoric!! zoro is not a pastry guy so finding one that would "fit him" was hard, but i truly wanted to not use "aged sake" or anything containing alcohol to challenge myself!!

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

first kiss with luffy would taste like chocolate covered strawberries. sweet, adventurous, rich, exciting.

it would occur like it was the most natural act in the whole world : him leaning in before biding good night between endless laughs and smiles, his arms wrapped around your waist in a warm embrace. his lips landing on yours after months of fantasizing about it, moving in perfect sync, clumsy but oh so feiry. his tongue would greedily move. he would bite at times from excitment.

his kiss was the exact reflection of him : exhilarating.

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

first kiss with zoro would taste like a pistacchio and rasberry pavlova. strong, passionate, deep, consuming.

it would occur under pouring rain, a good reflect of your current feelings at the moment as you both were arguing over how stupid the other was behaving. in midst passion, your lips finally collided with your hands tugging his collar down, his landing naturally, and firmly on your waist.

both of you thought of fighting for dominance, but this battle soon ended in a languishing tango. the hypnotizing taste of his lips combined to the strong grip of his hand was enough to make you weak in the knees, if it weren't for his hand to hold you still. raindrops gliding from his soaked hair to your lips, your teeth grazing his bottom lips to catch on some air.

none willing to stop. none willing to lose to the other. but already lost in each other.

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

first kiss with ace would taste like cinnamon rolls. spicy, comforting, addicting, warm.

it would take place on the beach at sunset, far from the crew and during your usual playful and flirtatious banter. it started almost like a dare with certain keeness, taking a bite when you know it's burning hot. burning looks, touches and lips.

the kiss would be what temptation was truly defined like. each peck, each breath he took, each small moans escaping you both, each move from your tongues.

you would both end up laying on the sand, addicted to each other's warmth and kisses.

it felt like home.

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

first kiss with law would taste like lemon meringue pie. linguering, mastered, vigorous, candid.

it would happen in his office, far from curious looks and distracting intervention. he summoned you and you happily obliged, the warm light from his small lamp coloring your faces in gold.

his lips gently met yours after his calloused hands softly landed on your face, his thumb graciously carressing your cheeks. it's like he imagined and rehearsed a thousand times in his head, only for reality to catch up as your tongue grazed over his bottom lip, asking for entrance, surprising, like the zest of lemon colliding with the sweetness of the meringue.

before letting you in, he stopped the kiss only to look in your eyes and take in all of your beauty, his right hand gently pushing a stubborn strand of hair away from your face, before devouring you once more, his tongue now a very active member.

days after, the taste would linguer and the memories of it making your heart race, only for the both of you to ask for more.

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

first kiss with sabo would taste like strawberry scones. generous, mellow, genuine, tender.

sabo is a yapper, and to finally shut him up, you grabbed his perfect face and kissed him, his lips tasting like hot biscuits. he would place his glove-covered hand at the back of your head to get a deeper taste of your lips, his tongue amusingly asking for entrance. even in that moment, his mouth could not stay still.

the second you pulled away to catch some very necessary air, he gave you a warm smile, before yapping once more, hoping you would shut him up again.

─────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

himezoro!

[artbyblue]

The witch sighed. This was what, the fifth girl who'd come crying about the prince breaking her heart? And it's not like they were delusional either (though there were plenty others who were), no, he just seemed to move on quick. The first girl came to the witch's shop early winter, begging for a heart numbing potion. "Those are only for the most terrible waves of grief, my child, are you widowed?" But no, just dumped, and the witch was forced to turn her away. The second was a mere month later, and she was angry, and bought wards to keep him away from her house. The third and fourth were both that summer, both asking for some simple divination. When the witch glimpsed their past feelings and saw such dramatic longing over the prince, she could hardly be surprised. The witch was freshly graduated from the Magical Academy herself, but quite powerful and ran the most popular spell shop in town. Of course she felt bad for these girls, were the prince not 2 years behind her, she'd be one of them herself.

Then it was the fifth, who came in such a state, late autumn. She was buying some potions ingredients, a mage in training herself, but she looked just awful. Make-up running, academy uniform wrinkled, and the sheer aura of heartache around her was making the empathy-charmed roses wilt. "Are you alright there, young mage?" "I'll be fine. I-I just... the prince is an upperclassman of mine, I'd heard bad things about him, sure, but he was so kind and studious and tutored me honestly, and so when he asked me to go out, I said yes. I thought I was right, believing him good. But this morning he told me we were done, and didn't even explain. Gosh, sorry to trouble you, ma'am, thanks for the wormwood".

The girl, sweet thing, scurried along then. The witch thought to herself, someone ought to teach this heartbreaker a lesson. He's a prince for fates' sake, he should know better. So, she cursed him. Plain and simple. He was apparently a charmer, yes, but the witch knew from passing him in the academy halls that he was quite good looking as well. She placed his photo with a mirror and drew up some runes- Until he learns to be less reckless with girls' hearts, he will look as cruel on the outside as he is on the inside.

The next evening, the witch is shocked as the shop door swings open. The boy is stunning. Undeniably so. But he wears the prince's golden headpiece and walks in like any other customer. "I-is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

"Just prince is fine, thank you. And yes, I'm looking to undo whatever spell seems to have been placed upon my appearance".

"R-really?"

"Oh, I know most people would love to have a beauty spell just thrust upon them, but I've never cared much for looks, and my own face suits me just as well".

"Well, that's a nice sentiment, and honestly I agree, but it's not exactly a simple beauty spell".

"Huh?...Wait. What kind of curse makes someone more attractive? That seems odd".

"Well the details of the curse are..." she trailed off in awkward silence, unsure as to how to explain the situation without embarrassing them both a little bit. Well, you know what, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

When she finishes retelling her encounters with his exes, and her own memory of him from the academy, he actually laughs. "I suppose that's fair. I have been a little messy this year, in the romance department. I swear I have my reasons, though, you must believe me".

"Somehow, I do. Tell me, then, Prince heartbreaker"

"Cyrene, from the winter ball, she wasn't just crying about me, she cried about everything. Whined, too, never could see a bright side. It was draining, you know? The second, Venom, she was alright, but her brother was a bully. I caught him shoving around a first year and lost my temper, and V refused to believe it, of course. Kara was a gold digger, then Lillith and I just didn't have as much chemistry as I'd hoped".

"And the mage girl?"

"Well, I really quite liked her. She was sweet and funny, and we would write to each other so much we'd run out of paper. But we were out one day going to the shops downtown, and I tried to pull her into a pet store. She refused immediately, and informed me she was deathly allergic to cats".

"You broke up with her over an allergy?"

"My familiar is a Lion"

"Ah, I understand now. Wait, a lion?"

"Yes, his name is Sundown"

"My familiar is a lion as well. And, well, you can't make this sort of thing up, her name is Dawn".

"Maybe I'll bring him by the next time I need broomstick polish, he's been needing a playmate if you ask me"

"I'll be looking forward to it".

The prince left then to go about his day, and with great confusion as the door shut behind him, the witch realized that the curse had already worn off. Those kinds of bounds are only supposed to wear off through action, and the only girl he'd talked to today was... Oh.

A witch has cast a curse on the royal family to "make them as ugly on the outside as they are on the inside." She is shocked to return later and discover that they've all become extraordinarily beautiful.

[hwanghhjinie]

EIGHT APOLOGIES 💐

SKZ x 9th MEMBER READER (TWO)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ about: ANGST. skz x 9th female member reader. hyunjin x reader. please read part one first.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ notes: hi all! i really appreciate everyone who likes and reblog my works. send in some requests if you have any because im running out of ideas lmao. anw here is part two, let me know what you think in the comments!

╰┈➤ PARTS: ONE, THREE, FOUR

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ skz ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

At practice, the atmosphere is unbearable.

No joking, no side comments, not even Changbin’s usual exaggerated grunts when the choreo hits hard.

You watch from the mirror, heart sinking. The tension is so obvious it’s practically choreographed. Minho keeps adjusting his hoodie strings just to avoid eye contact. Jeongin’s lips are pressed in a tight line, eyes focused on the floor more than the steps. Even Felix, your usual ray of sunshine, hasn’t cracked a smile in over an hour.

No one dances full out. No one jokes. Everyone’s just… off.

You watch them exchange glances when you speak up about a move being out of sync. The sideways looks exchanged between Seungmin and Han. The barely-there sigh from Bang Chan, who doesn’t even turn around. It’s like something unspoken is floating just beneath the surface, and you’re the only one not in on it.

You notice how Hyunjin doesn’t say a word.

And that’s what breaks you the most.

After everything — all those nights staying late, the moments where he saw you struggling, where he promised you weren’t alone — he won’t even look at you now.

When the break is called, you follow him into the hallway.

“Hyunjin,” you say, trying not to sound desperate. “Please tell me you don’t think I did this.”

He’s quiet. Too quiet.

You search his face for something — anything — but all you see is confusion. Pain. And maybe… doubt.

“I don’t know what to think,” he finally says. “You were the only one in the room when the demo played. That’s what the post said.”

You feel like someone’s punched you in the chest.

“So you believe them?” Your voice cracks despite your best effort. “A random screenshot with zero proof over the person you’ve trained with for years?”

“I’m not saying I believe it,” he says, but it’s too late. His silence in the practice room already told you what you needed to know.

You laugh bitterly. “Yeah. You’re not saying anything at all.”

He flinches, but doesn’t stop you when you turn and walk away.

What cuts the deepest was not the silence, not the stares, but the ache of something once warm now quietly unraveling.

And for the first time since you joined Stray Kids, it doesn’t feel like family.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

That night, Chan calls for a dorm meeting.

You sit on the floor in front of the TV while everyone else finds their usual spots. No one looks at you.

Chan clears his throat.

“Until we figure this out, we’re locking down access to practice files,” he says. “No one downloads anything. No personal devices. Management’s pulling logs.”

You nod. You don’t fight it. You’re not even sure you can.

But when Changbin mutters under his breath, “If it was one of us… it has to be someone close,” the entire room feels like it’s closing in on you.

No one defends you.

No one says your name.

Not even Hyunjin.

You excuse yourself before the meeting ends. No one stops you.

And that’s when it hits you — this isn’t just about a rumor.

This is about the people you thought were your family deciding they don’t trust you anymore.

You close the bedroom door behind you, press your back to the wood, and finally let the tears fall.

Not because the internet is cruel.

Because they believed it, too.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

In the living room, the remaining eight members sit in a loose circle, the air heavy.

“Should we really be talking about this without her?” Felix asks quietly, arms wrapped around his knees.

“We have to,” Chan replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Management’s breathing down my neck. They're already reviewing security footage and device logs. This is bigger than just us now.”

“No offense,” Seungmin says carefully, “but isn’t it weird how the leak came from our unit practice? And how Y/N was the only one who stayed late that day?”

Minho crosses his arms. “She always stays late. That’s nothing new.”

“Yeah, but it lines up too well,” Jeongin mutters. “And the clip that got leaked — it was the exact part she asked to rehearse more.”

“That’s a stretch,” Han cuts in. “She’s always pushing herself. That doesn’t make her a traitor.”

No one answers.

The silence is louder than any accusation.

Hyunjin leans forward, fingers tangled in his hair. He hasn’t said a word since they sat down.

Chan watches him carefully. “You were with her yesterday. Did she say anything?”

“She didn’t need to,” Hyunjin says, voice low. “She was crying in the bathroom the night it leaked.”

“That could mean anything,” Seungmin says. “Stress, exhaustion, pressure—”

“Or guilt,” Jeongin says under his breath.

Hyunjin shoots him a sharp look, but says nothing.

“What if it was a mistake?” Felix offers hesitantly. “What if she didn’t mean to leak anything — like, maybe she sent the wrong file or someone got into her phone?”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Chan says. “But if it wasn’t… we need to be prepared for what comes next.”

No one wants to say it.

But the tension hanging over them is too real to ignore.

“I’m not saying she did it,” Chan continues. “But we can’t ignore the possibility. If she did… we’ll have to protect the group first.”

That lands like a knife.

Because no one disagrees. Not even Hyunjin.

He stares at the floor, voice barely above a whisper.

“She wouldn’t do this.”

But in a room full of uncertainty, even he doesn’t sound convinced anymore.

The voices weren’t exactly loud, but the walls in the dorm were thin — always had been. Usually, the murmur of late-night conversations was comforting. Familiar.

But not tonight.

“She was crying in the bathroom the night it leaked.” Hyunjin.

Your stomach twisted. He noticed. He knew.

But even his voice — the one voice you thought might cut through the fog — sounded… unsure. Hollow.

You stood. Quietly.

Bare feet cold against the floor.

You walked to the door and opened it just wide enough to hear the last blow.

“We can’t ignore the possibility. If she did… we’ll have to protect the group first.”

That was the nail in the coffin, wasn’t it?

The choice had already been made.

Group first. Even if that meant sacrificing you.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

⤷ ゛TAGLIST ˎˊ˗

@captainchrisstan @sunnysidesins @luvvvivi @blackbeauties102 @painstakingly-juno

[willow-is-a-nerd]

BACK TO ME | Clark Kent ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing: clark kent x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, angst, semi-song fic, pathetic!clark, groveling!clark, stubborn!reader, no use of y/n, italic flashbacks, clark stalks your social media, use of words insane/insanity, smut, afab!reader, fingering, piv, oral(f!receiving), creampie, slight body worship, body type not specified, no beta we die like men

summary: reader and clark argue about whether or not it’s safe for superman to have a partner. cue breakup and a distraught clark.

word count: 7.7k

a/n: disclaimer I’m nawwwt someone who writes often but I’ve been so obsessed with this song lately. just imagined a clark fic with it and screamed so loud I knew had to write it. ended up way longer than planned...

“I just don’t know if this is healthy,” Clark sighs out, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck while he refuses to look at you. You had just shown up to his apartment, like you always did, but instead of a smile and a hug, Clark was waiting for you at the door with a strained expression and crossed arms. You had just put your purse down when he broke the news that he wanted to break up.

“We seem pretty healthy to me.” You argue, lip quivering, the sinking feeling of your heart giving away to a dull numbness as you study his face and realize something. His expression is unmoving. He’s completely serious.

“I just don’t know if this is healthy,” Clark sighs out, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck while he refuses to look at you. You had just shown up to his apartment, like you always did after a long day. Because Clark was home. But when you opened the familiar sleek modern doorknob to his apartment, eyes groggy and arms ready to wrap around Clark’s firm torso, your smile dropped a bit at the sight that greeted you. Clark was waiting for you at the door with a strained expression and crossed arms. Lights dimly lit like they usually were when he was upset. Gingerly placing your purse down on the floor, you crossed your arms as well, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the strange tension in the air before you even got a chance to say anything. That was when Clark had said he wanted to break up.

“We seem pretty healthy to me.” You argue, lip quivering, the sinking feeling of your heart giving away to a dull numbness as you study his face and realize something. His expression is unmoving. He’s completely serious.

“We are, we were.” He corrects himself, making you furrow your brows and scoff, “But Lex threatened me today when I was out there fighting. He said he was going to find all of my loved ones to get to me, and my first thought was you.” He takes a few steps forward to cup your face in his big hands. Looking down at you like you’re his world despite saying just seconds ago he wanted to give that all up.

And despite how distraught you are and how you’re barely processing the conversation, you let him. Because up until a few moments ago he was your Clark. He still felt like your Clark.

Your Clark that took you on picnic dates. Your Clark that stayed by your side for a whole weekend when you caught a cold. Your Clark that let you stop on the street to pet every dog you saw, no matter how anxious he was about making it to your dinner reservation. Your Clark that said ‘I love you’ a week into your relationship because he was just so sure about you.

“You didn’t think to consult me before just dumping me?” You spit out, swatting his hand away from your face as your mind settles back into reality. This was stupid. He’s suddenly scared that you would get hurt when it had always been a risk? Like you didn’t already know that? “I think I get a say in whether I’m willing to accept the risk that Lex might use me as bait one day. I would have been, if you just asked.”

Hurt flashes on his face as you swat him away. But a frustrated look replaced it in an instant. Why couldn’t you get it? The stakes were higher now, sure the threat was always looming, but it was real now. He was sure Lex Luthor already knew he was Clark Kent. Unless it was just an empty threat to psych him out— in which case he didn’t want to admit it worked.

“You think I want this? I want to be with you. But I’ve seen what Lex does to his captives. I can’t let you risk being in that kind of danger by being with me.” Clark waves an hand around before placing it on his hip, voice raising as he grows more and more irritated. You would have laughed at how sassy he looked if it weren’t for your heart breaking. So you grunt in frustration instead.

“Why? Why can’t you risk that if you want to be with me so badly?” You challenge, pacing across his floor in an attempt to avoid looking at him. Because if you look at him it will get too real, and your heart will break more than it already has. You can’t see him, but you can hear him groan and imagine that he’s probably brought his hand to his massage his temples. And sure enough, when you turn around, he is.

“Because it’s selfish, alright? It’s—” Clark practically yells out despite himself. Catching himself, he inhales slowly, letting his chest rise and fall before continuing, “It’s selfish of me to want something like this when- when I swore to myself to protect everyone on Earth that I could. You’re part of that.” There’s a slight whimper in his voice at that last sentence. But before you can get too hung up on it, you spin back around to pick up your purse. Gathering enough courage to face him, you look right into his pleading blue eyes. Pleading for you to understand where he’s coming from and not leave him like this— with anger and hostility hanging around the air between you.

But you’d made up your mind. You were stubborn. Clark knows that. Clark loves that. He loves the way you could be so stubborn, it hurt. That when you set your mind to something, you wouldn’t budge no matter what. He just never thought you’d be so stubborn about something like this.

“Fine. You want to end this? Let’s end this.” Your gaze is steady despite your vision blurring with tears, only breaking eye contact to fish through your purse, “Goodbye, Clark.” The words come out soft. Despite everything, you could do at least that much to mitigate the tension between the two of you. Just before you leave, you place what you had dug out of your purse on the side table by his door.

“Wait, I—” Clark starts, but it was too late. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say anyway. The door closes, and he can hear your footsteps marching down the hallway at an intense pace. A brief thought of catching up to you and taking his words back flashes through his mind, but his feet are planted on the ground. His gaze lands on his side table, and he steps forward to pick up whatever it was you had set down.

When he opens his hand up to see what the object was, his heart aches, and regret creeps up on his face. A dull pang of shame sweeps across his body, as it wasn’t one object, but two. Matching sun and moon rings. The wider sun ring meant for him, and the delicate moon ring meant for you. He closes his eyes and remembers a day you had brought up the celestial bodies randomly.

“You know, we’re kinda like the sun and moon.” You had said one summer day, laying on Clark’s lap as he read a book on the couch. He glanced down from his book for a split second to look at you.

“Yeah? How?” He asked, humoring you but also being a bit curious about what you meant as well. You sat up from his lap, earning a brief frown from him. The frown went away quickly as you took his free hand in yours and leant your head on his shoulder.

“I was just thinking about how you get your powers from the sun. Then it got me thinking about how you’re a ray of sunshine yourself. But I’m not as nice or as warm as you—” You started, and he interrupted with a scoff, offended on your behalf.

“Now that’s just not true.” He shook his head, and you shushed him with a smile, lifting your head up so you could face your body towards him.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is— you bring the best out of me. Like how the moonlight is a reflection of the sun’s light, I like to think my good qualities are highlighted by just… being around you.” You say, gently pushing his book down with your hand and using it to turn his chin towards you. You had wondered if he was listening, but by the wild blush that was evident on his face when he faced you, you knew he was. And he knew, just as he was leaning down to kiss you— at your sweet words and your soft gaze— that he was definitely in love with you.

“Darn it.” Clark lets out a devastated sob, plopping onto his couch with the rings resting coolly on the palm of his hand. He cautiously brings them up to his face to inspect them. When he notices how the hollowed out part of the moon fit right onto the curve of the sun, locking the rings together in a secure hug, he loses his composure. His singular sob a gateway to a whole stream of them, unending as he leans forward to cover his face with his hands, like maybe that would make it go away.

Like maybe if he closes his eyes hard enough, he’d open them back up to when you entered his apartment. He’d say he’s going to order food from your favorite takeout place, and watch as your face lights up because he knows you’ve been craving it. He’d take your bag for you instead of let you drop it on the ground. He’d do anything but break up with you. He knew that was a mistake now.

But it was too late. The second that door closed he knew you were never going to contact him again. You were never going to look at him again with that bright, adoring look you saved only for him when you were both alone in his apartment. You were never going to bring him treats from your favorite bake shop again. The thought of that alone made him want to fly up past the clouds and never come back down.

But he had to stay. He had to, because he had to stay and protect Earth, protect you.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴

Five months. Half a year. 182 days, give or take.

That’s how long it’s been since that day. Clark hasn’t been the same since. His work at the Daily Bugle was getting more sloppy, and everyone could notice. Deadlines weren’t being met, he doesn’t even bother getting his work edited before turning it in. The only things he got right were his Superman interviews, and even those started becoming less and less frequent.

“I’m sure it’s just a slump, buddy.” Jimmy had said to him on a particularly rough day. Perry didn’t outright say anything to Clark, but he gave him a disappointed look when Clark turned in another article a day late.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Clark grumbled, trying to brush it off and seem like he was fine. Like he wasn’t still aching on the inside. Like he hadn’t been waking up every morning with shame and regret rolling over him in waves. Like he hadn’t been thinking of you every night and, despite knowing it was kinda creepy, stalking your social media once in a while. But he couldn’t help it. You were only getting more and more beautiful with each post, and he would wish to be there with you everywhere you posted from. Out for drinks with friends, on a trip to the beach, or even just your apartment.

Meanwhile you were coping in your own, strange, slightly worrying way.

You frequented the coffee shop by your apartment more often, no longer able to look around your apartment and ignore the fact you saw traces of Clark everywhere. A scratch on your coffee table from the time he dropped and broke a mug. He had apologized profusely and promised to buy you a new mug. And now you can’t be anywhere near your living room without reliving that, and countless other memories of playing Mario Kart, winning over board games because he lets you win, and watching cheesy rom coms on days where you can’t be bothered to do anything else.

So here you are, depleting your money every week just to avoid thinking of him. Even though it’s your own apartment, and everything that he left there was stuffed in a box you shoved in the back of your closet to forget about.

You haven’t forgotten about it.

Stirring your latte absentmindedly with one hand, the other is clicking mindlessly on your laptop, unsure of what it wants to find. Your work is done for now, but you’re stalling because you don’t want to go back home. Because your mind is racing a mile a minute at the fact that a notification just popped up on your phone screen that @mghty_clrkjy just liked your most recent story post on Instagram. You always notice him viewing your stories, but never thought he’d have the nerve to like one. And you chastised yourself for the butterflies that took flight in your stomach.

But you just sigh. It had been five months now. Maybe he’s over it, and you’re acting like a child by frequenting this coffee shop just to avoid thinking about him. You don’t even like the coffee that much. Even your friends were starting to get worried, as you started declining invites out more and more, claiming you didn’t have enough money for anything other than coffee these days.

Gathering your belongings to leave, you’re too engrossed in your own mind to notice the commotion outside. The sound of debris hitting the window is drowned out by your soundproof headphones and sad indie music. The coffee shop is slightly emptier than usual, but you think nothing of it. Most of the patrons go home around this time anyway, the sky darkening slightly as the light became golden, shadows from the skyscrapers stretching longer than usual.

A barista cowers behind the counter and tries calling out to you as you opened the door, but your headphones muffle her out. As you step out onto the concrete, you hear the barista yell once more and twist your neck slightly to shoot a confused glance at her. You took your headphones off and pulled them around your neck. Had you forgotten something? No, your phone was in your pocket, you could feel it. And your purse was snug on your shoulder— oh no.

You realize what was wrong after hearing a loud bang, and you instinctively duck down, covering your head. You were used to this, everyone was. Another threat to Metropolis that the metahumans were surely fighting. There’s barely enough time for you to turn back around to hide in the coffee shop when another boom erupts, louder than the last one— and closer. Then before you know it you’re staring at a huge piece of metal debris flying straight towards you. But you’re only able to shut your eyes and begin to fold yourself in half as you try— and fail— to accept death right there, until you feel a grip around you that’s all too familiar.

You don’t have to look up to know it’s Clark— Superman— that saved you from imminent death. Despite your vow to never talk to or even look in his direction again, survival instincts take over and lean in towards him with eyes squeezed shut, arms around his neck as you fly across the street and onto your apartment rooftop. If only to avoid dropping to your death. Not because of other reasons.

It’s only when your feet reunite with solid ground that you open your eyes, looking up at Clark for time since your breakup. And you don’t expect him to look at you with such an alarming amount of worry and concern. It was a bit off putting, seeing Superman look so worried when he’s supposed to instill a sense of hope and security. But there he was, holding you out by your arms, eyes wildly scanning your figure for any injuries.

You pull away from him first with a gulp, hand rushing to your hair and fixing it as you look examine him. He looks the same. The same chiseled, perfect, nervous, Clark. Was looking at you in sweatpants and a normal shirt. You had hoped when you did run into him next, you’d look better than you do right now. Just to make him regret it more.

But you forget— Clark Kent thinks you look perfect no matter what you’re wearing. In fact, he missed seeing you like this most of all. Casual and unsuspecting. So right now, he’s regretting his life decisions just a little bit more. Scratch that— way more.

He backs up slowly, eyes still on you, before launching himself up in the air and back into battle, leaving you to be a confused, dazed mess all by yourself. Without a single word exchanged between the two of you.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴

Clark was losing his mind.

It’s only been three days since your last encounter, and he is going insane because of it. The worst part is, he’s sure you were feeling indifferent about it. Maybe even mad at him over it. Mad he had the nerve to touch you, even if it was to save your life.

But seeing you almost get hurt, it had changed something in him. Because what if he hadn’t gotten to you in time? He shutters just thinking about it. He realizes, no— knows he has to take you back, even if he has to beg and plead on his knees to get you to even begrudgingly say yes. Because what would he do with himself if you ever got in trouble and he wasn’t there?

So he makes the brash decision to fly to your apartment tonight.

You weren’t expecting anything. How could you have? Tonight was meant as a mental break for you to relax, and hopefully get your heart to stop racing. It had been beating quicker than usual lately, picking up every-time you reminded yourself of Clark saving you three days ago. So to cool down, you were laying on the couch, a thin blanket laying on your lap as you scrolled through streaming services for something entertaining enough to take your mind off things.

With your clouded mind, you almost don’t notice the floating blob of primary colors floating outside your window, brushing it off as being sleep deprived and driven half to insanity. All you could think about was Clark lately, maybe it wasn’t much of a stretch to think your mind was hallucinating him now.

But as you hear a rap on your window, you realize your mind wasn’t making things up. And you groan, annoyed, passaging your temples with your eyes shut. You really would rather have gone insane than be greeted with this bullshit. Really? Now? The universe was clearly playing some sick joke on you. Clark Kent was not hovering outside your apartment window as Superman right now.

You make a show of rolling your eyes before walking over to your window with heavy feet, opening it with a slam that might have woken the neighbors. Despite how cold you wish you could be towards him, Clark’s presence just radiated warmth in a way that you couldn't shield yourself from on account of being exhausted and vulnerable. You step aside and let him in, watching as he effortlessly floats in, something he used to do often. Your instinct was to walk up and greet him with a kiss— you were about to start making your way toward him— and he looks like he’s expecting it. Until a distant car honk snaps both of you back to reality.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Clark says with a cautious smile, and you only shake your head with crossed arms. The movement making the smile fall off his face.

“Why are you here, Clark?” The words hit him like arrows through his heart. He didn’t expect anything from you, respecting the fact that you didn’t owe him kind words just because he saved you. That was his job. But it still stung the sensitive man in him to know you didn’t let it slide for him.

“I’m gonna get straight to the point,” He says, chest falling and rising slowly as he steadies himself, eyes darting to the floor before they land on yours. “I came here to ask to be your boyfriend. Again. If you’ll have me.” You stilled at the words, your heart dropping. Of course he had to ask in that charming selfless way. Not, “Will you be my girlfriend?” or saying you’ll be back with him like its a statement.Just, “if you’ll have me.”

“What?” Is the only thing able to come out, the shock and exhaustion and emotions heavy on your mind and body.

“Yes, I… I messed up that night I told you we should break up. I regretted my words the second you stormed out of my apartment—”

“I like to think I left rather gracefully, actually.”

“Sorry.” He winces, “But… seeing you the other day… the fact I barely swooped down in time to save you… It made me realize something. I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s selfish of me to want you by my side, to keep you safe next to me. Lex Luthor can pry you from my cold, dead hands. There’s no way I’d ever let him anywhere near you. I see that now, that I was underestimating myself. I was insecure. I thought I wasn’t strong enough to save you when it mattered. But I realize now that I am. I am capable of saving you, and I was too stupid to see that you knew that too. That’s why you looked so sad. Because I should have just shut up and loved you the way you wanted me to.” He spirals, his usually straight posture as Superman making way to the hunched one he wears as Clark Kent, if only to meet your gaze as he winds himself up with his words.

You’re too stunned to do anything else but let him speak. Stutters of a sentence that doesn’t exist leave your mouth, eyes widening in shock when he drops to his knees. Shuffling forward to gently grab your hand, he encases it between both of his before looking up at you with eyebrows tilted up.

“Please, baby. I can’t do this without you. I wake up every day regretting that night. I haven’t been able to think straight for the past five months. You’re the first thing I think about in the morning and… and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. You always have been.” He searches your expression, voice faltering to whimpers, “It’s been absolute torture, please.” He whimpers your name out loud like a prayer. “Please take me back. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll take you out to dinner every day for the next year. I’ll avoid overtime at work for the rest of eternity, I don’t need a raise. Leave right at 5 just so I can see you. Heck, I could build us a house. Just need to come back home to you, sweet girl. Please. I’m begging you, baby. Come back to me.”

A small part of you had always prepared for this to happen. For him to ask for you back. In your fits of rage, you had imagined how this would go. He would sheepishly ask you to be his again, and you would say no and slam a door, or storm off looking hot and leaving him in shambles.

But you never expected this.

Clark pouring out his heart and soul to you, actually groveling on the floor, pleading and begging for you to take him back. And despite yourself, you know you can’t say no to him. You’ve never been able to say no to him. Because he’s Clark. The only person who has ever cared about you enough to take his time to truly, deeply know you. There was no one else like him. No one else whose charming dimples shone through no matter what facial expression he was making. And damn it if they weren’t making you weak now.

So you shake your hand free from his grasp, placing it around one of his wrists and leading him back up to his feet. He pushes himself off one knee, his piercing blue eyes not breaking from yours. You’re about to say something, and he can tell, staring at every inch of your face and anticipating the moment you open your mouth. You bite your lip before hesitating.

“You serious? Because you can’t abandon me like that again.” You ask him, and he nods profusely, back straightening as he looks at you hopefully. He grabs your hand again and kisses your knuckles the way he knows you like it.

“Yes. I’d never hurt you like that again.” He promises, voice breaking just slightly, and tears start brimming in his eyes. And that’s what gets you. You’ve barely showed any response through your words and your body movement, but here he is on the verge of tears for you. And, he’s shaking. Quivering. You wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t holding your hand.

Inhaling sharply, your eyes dart between his shaking hand and his face. But you can’t find the words to say to him, catching in your throat the way they usually do when you’re holding back an onslaught of emotion. So you do the only thing you think you can do. You tiptoe and lean forward to kiss him.

You could never forget the soft and pliable nature of his lips. He lets out a happy sob against you, cherishing the kiss and melting into it like he wasn’t ever planning on letting it end. His hand cups your face, gently cradling it it was the most precious thing in the world to him. It was.

You let him take over when his tongue brushes across your lower lip. Leaning back, you let one of his hands holds you by the small of your back. He lifts you up effortlessly, and your legs wrap around his waist. He groans into your mouth as he moves, pushing your back against the wall and gently dominating your mouth despite feeling one tear roll down his face and onto yours. You push on his chest softly, and his lips let go of yours with a confused expression.

“Clark, are you… crying?” You ask softly, tilting your head and cupping his face in your hands. He leans into your hands and hums.

“Yeah, I’m just… so happy.” He says with a shy smile on his face, and you can’t help but break out into a smile yourself. He leans back in and starts kissing your jaw, and you crane your neck up so he has better access. He moves down to your neck and starts sucking on a soft spot near between the base of your neck and your collarbone that makes you groan and roll your hips onto his. This elicits a pathetic, high pitched groan out of him as he gently bites your neck and thrusts his hip up towards you in response.

Your left art reaches out to your bedroom door, just a few inches next to you, and twists the doorknob open as he keeps working on your neck, jaw, and lips. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling him grin knowingly against your neck before wordlessly lifting you back up again and setting you down on the edge of the bed.

You land with a soft thud, Clark still leaning over you and sucking the skin on your collarbone, hands firmly placed on your hips. His hands move down towards your thighs as his lips leave your neck, following suit. His arms sneak around your thighs and pull you towards him, staring down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. He kneels down again, and you whimper as you can almost feel his breath on your core through the fabric of your shorts.

You wait in vain for him to do something, anything. Even one breath on your core would have sufficed, but instead he lifted his head up just slightly and loosens his grip on your thighs hesitantly. Looking up at you with all the concern and care the entire world.

“A-are you sure you want this?” He asks sheepishly, his demeanor melting to uncover the gentle Clark Kent underneath the Superman uniform. And it almost makes you sob. Because he held nothing against you for keeping a petty distance from him for all those months. He was still sweet, caring, sensitive Clark.

So you nod, hand going down to pet his hair, which you swear he nearly purrs at as he leans into your touch.

“Yeah, I’m sure Clark.” Your voice barely a whisper, but you know Clark can hear you. Especially when you see a sheepish smile spread across his face before he nods.

“Alright” He smiles, then falters, “I mean good— great.” He trips over his words, a light pink forming over his nose and cheeks. You lean forward and tousle his hair, the gel breaking, making his natural curls falling out and over his forehead. A wide smile spreads across your face for the first time in a while, and the sight of it makes Clark feel so giddy he leans up to place another long, grateful kiss on your lips, as if to look the expression onto your face. And it works, as the you smile into the kiss, the corners of your mouth not going back down even after Clark goes back down between your legs.

His hands move up your inner thigh and slowly upwards, massaging and molding the soft skin of your thighs like he was studying them before he lifted the waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down along with your underwear. He stares down at you, exposed and glistening for him, before hooking his arms around your thighs and bowing his head down.

“Mm— Ah!” A breath escapes your lips as his soft lips finally reach your puffy clit, placing a small kiss that sends tingles up your spine. He hums in response to you saying his name, clutching your thighs firmly, holding you in place as you try to lift your hips up.

“Stay still— baby— let me— ngh— take care of you.” He mumbles against you between licks and kisses on your clit. Not long after, he bring a finger up and rubs it up and down your folds, barely hovering above it you can both hear and feel how wet you are. “So, so beautiful. All this for me? I don’t deserve it.” He practically pouts, his warm breath tickling your now sensitive clit before moving his fingers aside and licking up your arousal. And you almost feel woozy, because only Clark would be whining about how he doesn’t deserve your pussy while he’s eating it out. And when he slides his fingers slip up effortlessly inside you, you let out a soft, lingering moan that breaks up into small yelps as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

“Fuck, Clark… please…” You whine out, gathering enough clarity to glance downwards and at him, “Please fuck me.” His tongue and his fingers slow down at your words, disappearing from you— leaving you cold and exposed. But only for a moment, as when you look back up, Clark is leaning over you, suit off and lining himself up with your entrance. His warm hand finds both of yours as he pins them up above you on the mattress before steadily pushing his length inside you with a languid groan, your eyes fluttering at the stretch of having him inside you.

“You feel so good, doll… Taking me in so well... Made for me,” He says between thrusts, grunting his words out, ��Should have never let you leave, been missing having you like this.” You don’t have time to relish in the fact he had been missing you in this way before you feel his hand letting go of yours and move down to your waist. His other hand joined your waist, and it felt familiar, something he would always do when he was loving you like this.

He’d floated the both of you a few feet up in the air, his hair brushing against the ceiling as he continues thrusting into you, with less restraint this time. Being suspended in the air gave him more leverage to impale himself into you, and you could do nothing but let out unintelligible mumblings in the form of moans. In the middle of you getting cock drunk, he pulls off your pajama shirt and tosses it to the floor, your nipples hardening at the cold air.

“These are perfect,” He murmurs, taking the hand that threw your clothes down and massaging your mound. You whimper as he rubs his thumb over your nipple, the sound making him squeeze your breast just slightly before letting go. His hand travels down and grabs at your hip, “Gosh, these were made for me, so perfect…” He mumbles again, barely audible, and you think for a moment that he might just be saying these things to himself. “Why do you have to be so perfect for me baby? Waist made for me to hold you…” He says, his hand going back up to your waist where the other was. You notice how dilated his pupils are in the darkness of your room, focusing on them as his thrusts become quicker. Weak moans falling out of his mouth as his eyes scan your whole body, grip on your waist tightening.

Suddenly, he lifts you off of him and turns you around, your nipples rub at the coldness of the wall that your breasts are suddenly pressed into as he takes you from behind. There’s no longer space for words between the two of you, the thick air of warm breaths and panting from both parties saying enough for the two of you. And it’s only after you both cum at the same time, your walls clenching around him and his cock twitching inside of you before spilling out, that he descends and lays you down on the mattress with all the care in the world.

You scramble to sit up, the cold air of your apartment biting at your skin, especially after having been surrounded by Clark’s warmth. You pull a blanket towards you haphazardly, it really only covering half of you, when you catch Clark staring at you on the edge of the bed with a soft, knowing smile. You reciprocate with a bashful one of your own.

“What?” You shrug, adjusting the blanket on top of you to cover up all of you, but the rest of it is caught underneath Clark. He just shakes his head, grin widening.

“You’re beautiful.” He gets up, helping you with the blanket. He moves towards the empty space next to you but hesitates, like he’s unsure if he deserves to lay next to you. “Can I..?” You let out an amused chuckle, clutching the blanket up to your neck.

“I just let you rail me in the air. What do you think?” A smile tugs on the corner of your mouth as he climbs in next to you, mattress shifting under his weight. He turns to face you and smiles a boyish smile that makes him glow.

“I think I don’t deserve you.” He says simply, the back of his fingers going to graze your cheek.

“Yeah well, you’re just lucky I can’t say no to you. You know,” Your eyes look away from a split second, “When you entered my apartment. I think I was already ready to take you back. My body moved like it knew something my brain didn’t. You just… there’s something about you and your whole demeanor that reflects onto me. Like the pure essence of you is contagious.”

He just looked at you patiently, sincerely. He always had a way of knowing when you were done talking and when you weren’t. Stopping to let you finish your thought when most people would assume you were finished speaking.

“What did you end up doing with the rings?” You ask meekly, suddenly embarrassed about dramatically leaving them on his side table.

“The promise rings.” He says, not as a question, but as if to state he knew what your dedicated purpose for them was. “Well… for a while I just let them sit on top of my dresser. Like a reminder to myself about what I lost.”

“Masochist.” You snort playfully.

“Yeah well when you lose the love of your life you don’t really get over it,” He says, placing a peck onto your temple as you look up at him with glowing eyes.

“Love of your life?” You echo, voice hopeful. His heart absolutely clenches and he has to fight the urge to pull the blanket off and show you just how much he loves you. Again.

“Yes,” He says your name like a prayer, “I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess if I didn’t think you were every bit worth it.” He says, searching your eyes and your face to make sure there was no trace of doubt in them. He didn’t ever want you to doubt his love for you. And doubt wasn’t present, only the same wondrous glow in your eyes.

“So what did you do with the rings?” You ask again.

“After that, I’d…” He trails off, and you use your elbow to prop yourself up in bed as he stays silent.

“You’d what?” You ask. He sits up himself and presses a long, deep kiss onto your lips before standing up.

“Wait here. Maybe get dressed for this.” He says, blushing, your naked body exposed when he threw the blanket off to get up off the bed. You stand up and wordlessly watch him place his suit back on before leaving the bedroom. With nothing else to do but wait, you put your pajamas back on. It takes a few minutes, so you grab a claw clip off your nightstand and put your hair up, pulling stray hairs out to frame your face.

Clark comes back in with his Smallville High shirt and plaid pajama pants on, holding something behind his back, a mischievous glint in his eye as we walks towards you. You figured he’d used super speed to change. One hand comes out from behind his back to reach for yours, and you let him take it, smiling.

“This is too soon for a proposal, Kent.” You tease him, and he lets an embarrassed laugh out.

“I know.” His voice is high pitched, “But… never too late for a promise ring right?” he asks, pulling a velvet blue ring box out from behind him, opening it up towards you. And there they were. The sun and moon rings you’d picked out in a coastal shop when you were on vacation almost a year ago.

“Hmm…” you bite your lip. “Only if you admit my sun and moon analogy is accurate.” You tease, and he pouts.

“I still think you’re wrong about me being nicer and warmer than you. I mean, I was in you earlier and you were pretty darn warm… ow.” He says as you playfully swat his arm with a blush. Obviously it doesn’t hurt him, but he knows the reaction makes you smile. “But yeah. I’d actually thought about it for a while after that night. I guess I’m more… open about my willingness to see the good in everyone and help everyone I can. Considering the whole Superman thing. Big and obnoxious like the sun.” You both smile at that. “Plus my powers come from it. But you… you’re nice and amazing in the small ways that some people might overlook. You make me homemade gifts perfectly catered towards me. I mean, the rings are a perfect example. And you memorized the part of my hair I like to be touched. And you brew me coffee in the mornings even though caffeine does nothing to me, but you know I’ve gotten used to the taste of it from work and make it for me anyways. And…” He smirks and reaches up to touch the hair around your face, “you do your hair in that adorable way that you know I love.”

A comfortable silence falls as he looks down at you, grin not faltering.

“And—”

“God, you’re not done?” Your shoulders shake with mirth, and he shakes his head.

“Never.” He smiles, squeezing your hand, “It’s not just about what you do for me. There’s also just you. I love the way you bite your lip when you cook, and I love the way you refuse my help in the kitchen with cute pout. The way you sing to yourself and dance when you think no ones watching you.” You blush in embarrassment. You thought he was asleep that night he stayed over and you had a small concert in the living room. “There’s also the way the sunset hugs your face in a warm embrace that makes me think— maybe you’re the suns favorite. Maybe it only heals me because it knows how weak I get in front of you.”

“You’re such a cornball.” You say softly, ruffling his hair, and he puts his free hand up in surrender.

“In my defense, you make me that way.” He shrugs, but his eyes are smiling.

“But you’ve been a cornball ever since I met you.”

“Exactly.”

A smile and warmth spreads across your face. You’ve missed this. Banter that goes nowhere but sticks with you for weeks. But when your eyes land back down on the rings, your expression flickered and faltered as you retreated back into yourself. You started to remember that night and the five months following it.

“You know, you really did hurt me.” You start, causing him to stiffen in dread, “I… I don’t want to be left behind like that again.” He nods, watching you intently, clinging onto your every word.

“I promise,” He whispers your name, and your smile comes back, “If I ever break that promise I’ll walk into the ocean.” You chuckle.

“Please don’t. And you don’t have to do those things you said, earlier.” You say, and Clark tilts his head in confusion, “When you were spouting nonsense on your knees begging for me to take you back?” You bite your lip as you job his memory, making him furrow his brows and shake his head.

“I was fully serious about that.” He takes your hand and raises the back of it to his mouth, kissing it gently as he looks into your eyes, “I meant every word. You deserve everything I could possibly give to you, and then some.” You shake your head.

“Clark, I don’t need all that. I just need you to be honest and tell me when you’re in trouble. We can work things out together. I may not have powers, but I can help if you’d just let me.” You say, placing a kiss on his warm cheek.

“You’re right. I should have just talked it out with you that night.” He says your name, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You smile, tears starting to well in your eyes. “Now put the ring on me already.” You try to chuckle through the obvious knot in your voice as tears start falling.

“Alright, baby.” Clark whispers before he wipes them away, placing a kiss onto your cheek. You watch as he fumbles with the rings, taking them out and placing the box down on the dresser next to him. He separates the rings gently, the gems capturing light of the moon and the city lights just outside the window.

The moon ring looks perfect on your finger, and you pride yourself in your jewelry taste.

“It’s beautiful. You have an eye for jewelry.” Clark hums, watching as you admire the ring on your finger as if you weren’t the one who bought it.

“Your turn.” You smile up at him, taking the sun ring from his hand. He lifts his hand out and waits. You hesitate before placing it on his finger. What if it was the wrong size? You had just guesstimated the ring size when you bought it. It would be so embarrassing if you made the rings a whole thing only for his to not fit.

Clark can see you panicking internally. He was looking down and wondering why the ring wasn’t on his hand yet, when he looked up to you, eyes darting all over the place, and he could hear your breathing picking up. His right hand lands on your arm, and you look up to see him shoot you an encouraging smile. The sight calms you down, relaxing the shoulders you didn’t even know were tensing.

You ultimately had nothing to worry about, as you pushed through your panic and finally slide the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly. He brought the ring up to his face with glee, opening and closing his hands to get used to the feeling of it.

“Does it fit alright?” You ask, just to make sure. And he grins down at you, answering you by dipping you down and capturing you in a long, deep kiss. You giggle as you separate, and he guides back up.

“It’s perfect.” He places another, sweeter kiss on the tip of your nose, and you scrunch it in response. He can feel his heart swell with joy at the sight.

“Good,” You smile. Looking up at him and the way he looks so different from earlier— happier, messier, dorkier. “Because you stuck with me now.”

“Thank goodness.” He says dramatically, coaxing a laugh out of you. He reaches down so that both of your hands are in his, pulling you to stand closer to him. You stumble forward with a giggle, almost colliding into his chest. And as you look at each other, you can’t help but be glad that you let him come back to you.

a/n: formatting might be weird bc i wrote half of this on my phone and half on my laptop oops. anyway i hope u guys like it!! more to come bc im so clark brained rn

[sunsetmade]

it’s been so long since my last request 🥹 I’m back with another! can you write something about rafe teasing (nothing too mean) his pregnant wife when she asked for him to massage her aching feet but she can’t take his teasing and she feels emotional and all. I desperately need something comforting and warm right now TT thank you! muah

Welcome back to requesting 😌 I hope you enjoy Mari!! Muah 💋

The Foot Rub Truce

Rafe Cameron x Pregnant! Reader

Normally, this was her favorite time of day— the warm peaceful breeze of the afternoon settling in. But today, peace felt like a foreign concept. Her back ached, her legs felt like lead, and her poor swollen feet were screaming for mercy.

She had spent most of the day shuffling between the couch and the kitchen, trying to keep herself occupied while Rafe was out running errands she normally did. But now, she was simply done.

She collapsed into the corner of the couch with a sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of the world. Pregnancy was beautiful, magical even… at least that’s what everyone said. Right now, she wasn’t feeling magical. She was feeling like a balloon that might pop at any second—both emotionally and physically.

The sound of the front door swinging open pulled her from her thoughts. Rafe’s heavy footsteps followed, and then he appeared in the doorway, all warm skin, broad shoulders, and that lazy grin that still made her heart stutter after all this time.

“Hey, mama,” he greeted, his voice smooth, carrying that teasing warmth he always seemed to have when he was talking to her lately. It was his new favorite thing—calling her mama every chance he got.

She tried to smile, but it was weak. “Hi.”

He immediately noticed. Rafe always noticed. Setting the bag of groceries on the counter, he made his way toward her, his brow furrowing slightly as he crouched in front of the couch. “What’s wrong?” His blue eyes scanned her face, concern flickering across his features.

“Nothing,” she murmured, leaning her head back on the cushion. “Just… so drained.”

His gaze softened. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, his knuckles grazing her skin. “You’ve been on your feet too much again, haven’t you?”

She didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Rafe let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation before his lips quirked into a small smile. “What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, and then she said it. Softly, almost shyly: “Will you rub my feet?”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and when she opened her eyes again, Rafe was looking at her with that mischievous glint she knew all too well.

“Your feet?” he said, leaning back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “That’s a big ask, sweet girl.”

She groaned, not in the mood for one of his games. “Rafe…”

“I mean,” he continued, pretending to think it over, “I’ve been out running around all day. Groceries, gas, dealing with my dad on the phone…” He let out a dramatic sigh and flopped down onto the couch beside her. “And now you want me to give you a fuckin’ spa treatment?”

She turned her head to look at him, glaring—or trying to—but it lacked any real heat. “It’s not a spa treatment. My feet just hurt, Rafe.”

He smirked, leaning in a little. “What’s in it for me?”

That was the moment it hit her. The teasing. The grin. Normally, she loved this side of him—the playful banter, the way he always made her laugh even when she didn’t want to. But right now? Right now, when her hormones were a tidal wave threatening to drown her at any second? It felt like too much.

Her throat tightened before she could stop it, and to her horror, her eyes began to sting. She blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall, but it was no use. Within seconds, they spilled over, hot and unrelenting.

“Whoa—hey, hey,” Rafe’s tone shifted immediately. Gone was the teasing edge, replaced by full-blown panic. He reached for her face, cupping her cheeks gently as he turned her toward him. “Baby, what—what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She shook her head, swiping at her cheeks. “I—I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice cracking, and that only made her cry harder. “I’m sorry, I just—my feet hurt, and I’m tired, and you’re making jokes, and I can’t—”

“Shit,” Rafe muttered under his breath, pulling her against his chest without another word. His arms wrapped around her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other rubbed soothing circles against her spine. “I’m sorry. God, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She buried her face in his t-shirt, her tears soaking the fabric as silent sobs shook her shoulders. He held her through all of it, murmuring soft apologies against her hair, kissing the crown of her head over and over like it would make everything better.

When her crying finally slowed, he pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing the damp strands of hair from her damp cheeks with the utmost care. His blue eyes were earnest, almost pleading. “You know I was just kidding, right? I wasn’t trying to be an ass. I’d rub your feet for the rest of my life if you wanted me to.”

A watery laugh bubbled up from her throat, surprising both of them. “Don’t say that,” she sniffled, “you’ll regret it when I make you do it every night.”

“Good,” he said firmly, tucking another strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to. You’re carrying our kid, mama. You get whatever you want, whenever you want. No jokes next time, I promise.”

He kissed her lips gently, then stood, moving to grab a throw pillow off the other end of the couch. “Lay back,” he said softly. “C’mon, put your feet up here.”

She hesitated, still feeling a little embarrassed, but he wasn’t having it. He carefully lifted her legs, placing them on the pillow before settling himself at the opposite end of the couch. His big hands—warm, strong, familiar—wrapped around her swollen ankles with the gentlest touch, like she was something fragile.

“You tell me if this hurts, okay?” he murmured as he began kneading the sore arches of her feet with slow, deliberate strokes.

It didn’t hurt. God, it didn’t hurt. It was heaven. A shaky breath escaped her lips, and she melted back into the cushions, the tension in her body finally easing as he worked his magic.

“That good?” he asked after a moment, glancing up at her through his lashes.

She nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. “So good.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Good. You deserve it.”

For the next several minutes, the only sounds were her soft sighs and the quiet hum of Rafe’s voice as he occasionally murmured little reassurances—“Almost done, sweet girl,” or “You’re doing so good.” It wasn’t just a foot rub; it was his way of saying sorry, of making it up to her without words.

When he finished, he didn’t stop there. He shifted up beside her, pulling her gently into his arms so her back was against his chest, his hands resting over the swell of her belly. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then another to her cheek.

“You okay now?” he whispered, his lips brushing her skin.

She nodded, a small smile forming as she placed her hand over his. “Yeah. Sorry for… you know.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, turning her face just enough so he could kiss her properly this time—slow, tender, because she was his entire world. “You cry, you yell, you do whatever you need to. I’m here. Always.”

Her heart swelled, the earlier frustration fading like it had never existed. Because this—this warmth, this love—was everything.

Rafe looked up at her, grinning softly. “There’s that smile,” he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “God, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, leaning into him, feeling safe, cherished, completely and utterly adored.

Taglist: (join here)

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[orobaxis]

i need dad!clark while his partner is pregnant comforting them as earnestly as possible while they are inconsolably upset about something so small like a sad song or a restaurant being out of what they ordered. and it is like world endingly sad because they are hormonal but clark takes it seriously 😭😭

What Clark Kent should expect when you’re expecting

Summary: Clark has to deal with your early pregnancy mood swings. And the four times he’s heard his daughter’s heartbeat.

Dad!Clark Kent x Female!Reader

more kent family adventures here!

a/n: i merged this with another request where clark hears leia’s heartbeat for the first time! i hope you all like it! 🫶

Mission Growing Baby Leia

Progress: 5 weeks

It was late at night, the two of you curled together in bed, the air heavy with the quiet hum of the city outside your window. You were only a few weeks along, your hand resting unconsciously over your stomach as though shielding the tiny secret that had just begun to grow inside of you.

Clark had been quiet for most of the evening. He wasn’t tense, not exactly, but thoughtful in a way you recognized instantly—his brow knit, glasses sliding a little down his nose as though the weight of his thoughts pressed them lower.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked softly, brushing your thumb along the back of his hand.

He hesitated, eyes flickering to your stomach and then back up to your face, as if caught in something vulnerable. “Can I…?” His voice was quiet, hesitant in a way you so rarely heard from him.

“Of course,” you said, though you weren’t sure what he meant—until he shifted lower, resting his ear gently against your abdomen.

You stilled, your hand automatically going to his hair. “Clark,” you whispered, half curious, half emotional yourself.

He closed his eyes. And then it happened.

There, faint but steady, beneath the rhythm of your own body, was another sound. A rapid, fluttering beat that wasn’t yours. His breath hitched audibly, his body going completely still as the sound registered.

“Oh my God,” he whispered.

You blinked. “What? What is it?”

His hand pressed to your side, his voice shaking. “I can hear it. I can hear the heartbeat.”

Your own heart stuttered at his words. You couldn’t hear it yet—the doctor had told you it was still too early for the equipment to pick it up at your last appointment—but he could. Of course he could. His hearing was sharper than any machine.

Tears filled his eyes before he could stop them, his shoulders trembling as he listened again, desperate not to lose the sound. “It’s so fast,” he breathed, almost laughing through the tears. “Like a tiny drum. So strong already.”

You felt your throat tighten, a mix of awe and envy swirling inside you. “You can really hear… our baby?”

Clark lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, and the look on his face undid you. Pure reverence, raw joy, and the kind of love that seemed to radiate out of him like sunlight. “Yes. Yes, I can. And it’s—” He broke off, voice breaking. He pressed his forehead to your stomach, his tears wetting your shirt. “I can’t believe it. They’re really there. Our baby’s really there.”

You stroked his hair, your own tears spilling now. “Tell me what it sounds like.”

He laughed softly, shakily. “Like… like the world’s smallest hummingbird, right here inside of you. So alive. So determined.” He closed his eyes again, drinking it in like he could memorize the rhythm. “I feel like… like I’m meeting them before anyone else does.”

It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t hear it yet, couldn’t feel much beyond exhaustion and small flutters that might have just been your imagination. But he could. He was already connecting to the little life you were both waiting for, already claiming every heartbeat as something precious.

“I wish you could hear it too,” he murmured, lifting his face to yours, voice husky with emotion. “But until you can, I’ll tell you everything. Every little beat, every little sign. You don’t know how incredible it is.”

You kissed him then, slow and tender, tasting the salt of his tears. “You’re already the best dad,” you whispered.

Clark’s arms slid around you, holding you close, but one hand stayed resting against your stomach, as though he couldn’t bear to let go of that fragile, miraculous connection. “No,” he whispered back, voice breaking again. “I’m just the luckiest man alive.”

And that night, he fell asleep with his head still pillowed on your stomach, listening to the tiny, frantic beat of your baby’s heart, protecting it as though by listening alone, he could keep it safe.

-

Mission Growing Baby Leia

Progress: 11 weeks

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked up to your chest, hugging a pillow like it was the only thing keeping the world from collapsing. Your face was scrunched, lips trembling, and the hiccuping sobs that escaped were both ridiculous and completely unstoppable.

Clark, naturally, was immediately on high alert. He practically vaulted over the armrest and was kneeling beside you in an instant.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with genuine concern, as if the universe had just imploded and you were the epicenter.

You sniffled, gripping your pillow tighter. “They… they didn’t have my order,” you choked out. “At the restaurant. My favorite sandwich. They… ran out. It’s… it’s gone forever!”

Clark froze for half a second, processing that the end of the world was apparently happening right now in the form of your favorite sandwich. Then he nodded solemnly. “Oh… oh no.”

You let out a tiny, miserable wail. “And it’s not fair! I wanted it! I had been looking forward to it all week!”

Clark immediately scooped you up in his arms like you were about to disappear into some black hole of sadness. “It’s okay, I’m here. I won’t let the sandwich get away from us,” he said seriously, rocking you gently.

You hiccupped, eyes wide and glistening. “Clark… it’s not the same. They just… didn’t understand. My sandwich…”

Clark’s jaw tightened as if he were about to personally negotiate with fate itself. “Y/N, I understand. I get it. A sandwich… especially your sandwich… that’s serious. I’m… I’m going to fix this. I’ll go right now. I’ll fly across town. We’ll find a replacement. Or… we’ll make one. We can make your sandwich here. We can—”

You hiccupped again, overwhelmed. “Clark… it’s… it’s hopeless…”

Clark shook his head with all the gravity of a man defusing a bomb. “Never hopeless. Never! You’re carrying baby—our little miracle—and no sandwich shortage is going to ruin this. I promise.”

You sniffled, letting out a weak sob. “I… I just… I wanted to feel normal…”

Clark leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And you are normal. Normal with very strong emotions right now. And I love that about you. And our baby’s going to love that too—their mom gets emotional over sandwiches and songs and literally anything beautiful.”

You tried to smile through the tears, sniffling into his chest. “Even… that sad song?”

Clark nodded earnestly. “Even the sad song. We’ll play it as many times as you need. We can cry together. We can eat ice cream while crying. Or… make your sandwich afterward. Anything.”

You hiccupped again, a giggle breaking through the tears. “Clark…”

“I know,” he said softly, brushing your hair back. “I know it seems like the end of the world right now. But I’m here. I’ll handle the world for you. And the sandwich. And the song. And anything else that tries to hurt you emotionally.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against him. “You’re ridiculous…”

Clark grinned, whispering into your hair. “I’m your ridiculous. And right now, that’s exactly what you need.”

Leia—or rather, the tiny wiggling life inside you—kicked in approval, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Maybe… maybe we can survive the sandwich shortage together.”

Clark tightened his hold, resting his forehead against yours. “Together. Always together. Even when the world ends over a sad song or a missing sandwich.”

And for a few blissful minutes, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped in blankets, hormones, and unconditional love, while Clark solemnly plotted how to make the world right again—one absurdly serious step at a time.

-

You had barely calmed down from the sandwich tragedy when Clark reached for a cookie from the jar on the counter. You didn’t think much of it at first—until you realized, mid-bite, that it was the very last cookie. The one you’d been saving.The cookie you’d been looking forward to like it was a rare treasure, hidden and cherished for days.

You froze, then your chest tightened. “Clark… no… nooooo!”

Clark looked up, cookie in hand, and blinked. “Oh—oh no. Wait… that was—”

You stumbled backward, grabbing the counter for support, your face crumpling. “That was my cookie! I’ve been saving it!”

And then the tears came. Full-on, inconsolable, catastrophic tears. They poured freely down your cheeks as you hiccupped and wailed, “I wanted to eat it! I was going to eat it! Now it’s gone forever!”

Clark immediately dropped to his knees beside you, eyes wide and panicked, placing the cookie—half-eaten though it was—on a plate as if it were a fragile artifact. “Oh no, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I—I thought it was… I didn’t check!”

You sobbed harder, burying your face in your hands. “You ate it! That was mine! My cookie!”

Clark reached for your hands, gently holding them. “I know! I know, Bug. I am so sorry. I promise, I didn’t mean to. We’ll fix this. We’ll—uh… we’ll bake more cookies! We can make a cookie mountain! You’ll get ten cookies for every one I accidentally ate!”

You hiccupped, sniffling between sobs. “It’s… it’s not the same! It was the last one! My special cookie!”

Clark’s eyes glistened with worry and empathy. “I know… I completely understand. It’s a tragedy. A true, monumental, cookie-level tragedy.”

You both started laughing and crying at the same time—Clark’s attempt to console you clashing hilariously with your emotional meltdown. “We can… we can solve this,” he said, fumbling for a pen and notebook like he was strategizing a rescue mission. “Step one: identify cookie type. Step two: locate ingredients. Step three: bake replacement cookies immediately.”

You hiccupped again, wiping your tears with the edge of your sleeve. “Step one… it was chocolate chip…”

Clark nodded solemnly, pulling you into a tight hug. “Chocolate chip. Right. The sacred cookie. I understand completely. I will personally take charge of all cookie-related operations from now on.”

You sniffled, resting your head against his chest. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, stroking your hair. “And I’ll make it right. I swear. You’ll have your cookie. And maybe two more, just to be safe.”

You gave a shaky laugh through your tears, hugging him back. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he whispered, nuzzling your forehead. “And right now, that’s exactly what you need.”

And so there you were—both of you teary-eyed, holding each other, while Clark solemnly swore to rebuild your cookie supply like it was a world-ending crisis. Somewhere, your baby was kicking happily in your belly, apparently approving of the dramatic cookie rescue operation.

-

Mission Growing Baby Leia

Progress: 20 weeks

The exam room was quiet, too quiet for how fast your own heart was pounding. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and Clark sat right beside you, his big hand enveloping yours while you lay back on the padded table. His thumb brushed soothing circles over your skin, though you could feel the tension in him too.

It wasn’t fear—not exactly. More like anticipation, something too big for his chest. He’d heard your baby’s heartbeat weeks ago, that secret moment between him and the tiny life growing inside you, but today would be the first time youcould hear it too. The first time you would both share the miracle together.

The technician smiled kindly, rolling the cart with the ultrasound machine closer. “Alright, let’s take a look at your little one.” She squeezed the cool gel onto your stomach, warm on your skin. Clark gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

Then came the wand, pressing gently against your skin. Static filled the room at first, a soft whooshing that made your stomach clench in nervousness. You searched the technician’s face for a hint, for anything, but she only adjusted her angle, watching the screen intently.

And then—

A fast, steady rhythm filled the room.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.

Your breath caught in your throat. That wasn’t your heartbeat. That was them. Your baby.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, your eyes instantly stinging with tears. “That’s…?”

The technician’s smile softened. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat. Strong and steady.”

You turned your head toward Clark—and instantly lost it. His eyes were wide, shimmering, his lips parted like he’d forgotten how to breathe. He looked utterly undone, like the sound had knocked the air out of him.

“That’s—” His voice cracked, and he laughed through it, overwhelmed. “That’s our baby.”

You reached up with your free hand to cup his face, brushing away the tears that had already slipped free. “Our baby,” you echoed, your own voice trembling with joy.

The technician politely looked away, busying herself with taking measurements, giving you both that small sliver of privacy. Clark bent down closer, his forehead pressing against yours, the sound of the heartbeat filling the space between you like music.

“I’ve been waiting for you to hear it,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I—I tried to describe it before, but it doesn’t compare, does it?”

You shook your head, tears streaming freely now. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

On the monitor, a tiny shape flickered, faint but undeniable, and you both stared in awe. Clark pressed a trembling kiss to your lips, then leaned down, whispering to your stomach like he had so many nights before.

“Hi, little one,” he said softly, reverently, as the rapid heartbeat filled the room. “Mommy hears you now too. We both hear you.”

You brushed your fingers through his hair, heart swelling so much it almost hurt. You thought of the night he first heard that sound, when you had to take his word for it, when it was still just something you had to trust was real. But now it was real for you too.

The two of you stayed there, hands clasped tight, eyes locked on each other and the screen, while the heartbeat of your child played on like a promise—steady, strong, and alive.

Neither of you would ever forget that sound.

-

Mission Growing Baby Leia - COMPLETE

The delivery room was chaos—doctors moving briskly, nurses giving instructions, the beeping of monitors filling the air. But to Clark, none of that existed. All he saw was you, gripping his hand with every ounce of strength you had left, sweat plastering your hair to your forehead, determination blazing through the pain in your eyes. He had faced alien invasions, world-ending crises, and battles that shook cities to their foundations—nothing compared to this. Nothing terrified him, awed him, and humbled him more than watching you bring your child into the world.

And then, suddenly, she was there.

Leia’s first cry split the air, sharp and strong. Clark’s head snapped toward the sound, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The nurse lifted the tiny, squirming bundle for just a second before settling her against your chest. Clark was frozen, tears already blurring his vision. His ears—so sensitive that they could pick up a heartbeat continents away—locked onto hers.

Not muffled through the barrier of your skin, not through the veil of fluid or machines. This was raw, direct, and real.

Her heartbeat.

Clear, strong, rapid, and alive.

It was one of the most beautiful sounds Clark had ever heard in his life. His knees buckled slightly, and he had to force himself to stay upright. He leaned close, pressing his large hand over Leia’s tiny back, feeling the flutter of her heart beneath his palm while hearing it echo in his ears. He broke then, his tears spilling freely down his face as his chest shook with uneven breaths.

“She’s here,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice weak but full of wonder. You reached for his hand, grounding him. “Clark… she’s really here.”

He nodded, unable to speak for a moment, his throat tight with emotion. He bent his head and kissed your damp hair, his lips trembling. “I hear her,” he finally choked out. His voice cracked, raw. “Her heartbeat. Gosh, it’s so clear now. I—” He laughed shakily, overwhelmed. “It’s perfect. It’s her.”

Leia gave another small cry, wiggling against you, her heartbeat speeding up with the effort. Clark’s tears fell harder, his hand brushing over her impossibly small arm, tracing every detail of her in disbelief. He couldn’t stop listening. Each beat was steady, determined, alive.

He lowered himself so he was eye level with her tiny face, his glasses slipping down as tears streaked the lenses. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice breaking as if the words themselves were too heavy to carry. “It’s Daddy. I’ve been waiting so long to hear you like this. Do you know that? I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

Leia quieted slightly at the sound of his voice, her breathing slowing, her heartbeat still fluttering fast but steady. Clark let out a sob, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, his hand covering both of you.

You smiled tiredly, your own tears sliding down your cheeks as you brushed a hand across his wet face. “She knows you,” you murmured. “She knows her daddy.”

Clark looked at both of you then, his entire world narrowed down to this single moment—your exhausted, glowing face, your daughter’s tiny body against your chest, and the music of her heartbeat still ringing in his ears.

It was fast and fragile, but to him, it was the strongest sound in the universe. A sound he would spend the rest of his life protecting.

He kissed you first, soft and reverent, then bent and pressed his lips gently to Leia’s downy head. “Your heartbeat,” he whispered to her, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s my favorite sound now. Forever.”

And in the quiet that followed—just the three of you in the middle of the storm—Clark Kent, Superman, the strongest man alive, finally let himself weep openly, utterly undone by the miracle of his little girl’s heart.

-

It started slowly, in moments Clark almost thought he imagined. Leia was only a few weeks old, still so small that she fit against his chest like she’d been made to live there. But one evening, as he cradled her while you dozed on the couch beside him, he heard something that made his breath hitch.

Her heartbeat—so tiny, so fluttering—sped up the instant he spoke to her. He froze, mid-sentence, his eyes softening as he tilted his head toward the little bundle against him. “Did you…?” he whispered, barely able to believe it.

He tried again. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Her heart fluttered faster.

Clark let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed. He pressed his lips to her forehead, tears prickling at his eyes. She knew him. Not just his face or his scent—she knew him by sound, by the rhythm of his voice, by the presence that seemed to wrap her up in safety.

From then on, he noticed it every time. The second he stepped through the door after a long day, Leia’s heartbeat leapt in recognition before she even laid eyes on him. When she woke in the middle of the night fussing and he scooped her into his arms, her frantic pulse would slow, then pick up again in a steady rhythm of comfort and excitement, like she was saying Daddy’s here. I know him. I’m safe.

One afternoon, when you were rocking Leia in your arms by the window, Clark came up behind you quietly, slipping an arm around your waist. The moment Leia heard his voice murmuring hello, her tiny heart skipped into that familiar quick rhythm again. Clark smiled so wide his cheeks ached, his eyes damp.

“You hear that?” he whispered into your hair.

You blinked up at him sleepily. “Hmm?”

His hand went to Leia’s back, covering nearly all of her tiny body, and he closed his eyes. “She knows me,” he whispered. His voice cracked with awe. “She hears me, and her heart… it changes. It’s not fear. It’s—Gosh, it’s excitement. Love. She knows me.”

You smiled, brushing a gentle hand through his dark hair. “Of course she knows you. You’re her daddy.”

Clark swallowed hard, pressing a trembling kiss to Leia’s soft head. “I can hear it,” he murmured against her skin. “Every time I walk into the room. Her heartbeat goes faster. She’s happy I’m here. Just like—” He paused, turning to you, his blue eyes impossibly tender. “Just like yours does.”

Clark leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes glassy, his voice low and reverent. “Your heartbeat and hers… they’re the only sounds I ever want to hear. When I’m out there—fighting, bleeding, wondering if I’ll make it back—it’s your heart that keeps me steady. When I’m healing at the Fortress, it’s the echo of your heart and hers that reminds me why I come home.” He kissed your hand, lingering. “Those are the only sounds I don’t ever want to stop hearing.”

Your chest tightened, tears filling your eyes at the rawness in his voice. “Clark…”

Leia cooed softly, her heartbeat still quick and eager beneath Clark’s touch, and he laughed through his tears. The sound was warm, almost boyish. He leaned his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against you with infinite tenderness.

“She’s already like you,” he whispered. “She loves me more than I deserve. And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it—from both of you.”

And as Leia snuggled between you, her heartbeat still racing joyfully at the presence of her father, Clark thought that maybe—just maybe—he finally understood what heaven felt like.

-

taglist

@vql3rie @celestialend @diannelucille @minienix @evermoresivy @nixandtonic @bl00dstained @tqd4455 @vestafir @sweettbepbo @skzvibes-blog @sweetheartdiariess @blackwidownat2814 @zandra-42 @ysuftmikey @soupiemeowmeow @bookishbabyyyy @DreamingofTomorrow @1-800-peakyblinders @kissesofstars @qtmoonies @Casiopea2 @buckystwilight_ @buckystwilight @princess76179 @kaiparkerwifes @vinecstasy @averyhotchner @angelicp0etry @multifandom-loser @ladamari68 @httpstoyosi @jakesphere @alina02 @kaorisakamotofan @randomfangirlof @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @animegamerfox @thychuvaluswife @clarkclit @tayhobart @obsessedwthdilfs @kneelarhmstrung @helalokithor @loveelylani @kissmxcheek @toplinehyunjin

[kenzieluvsnanami]

I WAS IN LOVE WITH MY PSYCHIATRIST, AND HE KEPT ME ANYWAY!!

desc ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ sometimes dreams do come true... especially ones about fucking your hot psychiatrist!! // psychiatrist!toji x f!reader cw ✧✩₊˚. (18+) NSFW/pôrn what plot, doctor/patient relationship, crack plot (ifykyk 😭), p in v séx, fingering, slight exhibitionism, use of pet names (baby, honey, sweetgirl etc.), and as always - lowercase intended // wc :: 2.3k

the air was still and quiet in the office, the only sound in the room being the quiet click click clack of your psychiatrists large hands against the keyboard.

it was the last friday of the month, long hand of the steel clock stapled to the wall creeping closer and closer to the top of the hour.

fuck... your session was almost over and you hadn’t said anything to him yet.

obscured by the monitor, your eyes roamed over the large hulking frame of your psychiatrist—all broad shoulders and strong forearms, short black hair poking out above the height of his screen.

you had been slowly gathering feelings for your psychiatrist that were, in all honesty, completely inappropriate. you could feel your heart beat faster and faster as lidded eyes glanced past the monitor and onto your face, features set in mild disinterest as he asked you the same questions he always did each session.

“any thoughts of harm?”

“no”

“issues eatin’? we talkin’ bout loss of appetite, lack of—”

“no”

“..’kay, now i gotta ask you this so don’t take it too poorly”

this was different? your therapist never went of script, like ever—

“..hello?”, jogged out of your reverie, you glanced back up to the desk where your psychiatrist was only to find his chair… empty?

“as i was sayin’..”, your head whipped back as you felt the couch you’d been sat on dip further down, the large frame that had been behind the desk now next to you. you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, a rough palm reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.

“it’s okay if it’s a bit lower than usual, these meds usually do that…”, his voice was slightly softer than usual—and from this proximity you could see the slight scar he had running down the side of his lips, the jagged slope of his nose, the way his eyes crinkled slightly as he scribbled into the notepad.

“—well it’s clearly not that low with the way you're lookin’ at me”, lips curled in a small smirk as he turned his body to face yours.

“w-what was the question, sorry...” your voice was almost a whisper, heart threatening to beat its way out of your chest. this was the closest you’d ever been to your psychiatrist during the entirety of your professional relationship and fuck you’d be lying if you hadn’t been aching for any kind of closeness since you’d met him.

“i said, how’s your libido been? i’m assuming pretty low from your lack of response…”

your… libido?

well, i guess now is probably a good time to bring up it up.

“umm, well dr. fushiguro—”

“please…call me toji”

“well, t-toji, i wouldn’t necessarily say that, uhhh i have a low libido because uhmmm”

your hands had tied themselves into a pretzel, your anxious fidgeting with the short, little skirt you wore causing it to ride up further—exposing the soft, plush skin that hid underneath.

now, dr. fushiguro was a professional— and kept things strictly business. but, he had working eyes, for fuck’s sake, and you were absolutely gorgeous. beautiful doe eyes that were so needy, so cute, scared to even look into his as your voice wavered off.

“your tellin’ me you don’t have a low libido? baby, it’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about..”, green eyes slid up to meet your own, a simmering heat behind them that was barely restrained.

“i know i don’t have a low…libido because i had a dream about you—about us. in this office.” you weren’t even sure if any of what you said was even audible, words tumbling out of your mouth at an inhuman speed.

toji had leant back against the the arm of the sofa now, one hand playing with the short strands at the nape of his neck as the other flipped through his notepad. “i know before you said you’ve had… 'increasingly vivid dreams that occur during full moons'—was this one of those?”

“yes, yes it was.”

“…go on.”

“…there’s not really much to say, i had a dream about the two of us in your office and well… you know.”

“do i, now? ‘know imma psychiatrist but that don’t mean i can read minds, pretty.”

“fuck—it’s embarrassing”

you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you thought about it, the disgustingly realistic dream wherein your psychiatrist broke through all professional boundaries and fucked you—right there on his desk.. and then on the sofa and one last time on the floor. you clenched your thighs slightly, heat beginning to build in your core.

“that’s it?” brow creased in confusion, you glanced back up at him—catching a glimpse of the notes he’d hastily written down.

patient recalls dream involving providor. details of dream pertain to sexual intercourse between patient and providor, patient recalls of three instances of intercourse within dream. refer back to protocol and handbook c11 for further instr—

you just said all of that outloud, because of course you fucking did…

frozen in a state of complete and utter humiliation, you sat dumfounded as your psychiatrist lazily walked up to the door to the office and... turned the lock?

“hmmm…” moving his desk chair to face you, toji sits down. dragging your eyes from the piece of peeling linoleum on the floor, you met his gaze again. green eyes glittering with a hint of mischief as he spread his thighs out further.

“show me”

“..i’m sorry?”

“show. me. what. happened. in the dream. need to make sure i get the notes all accurate, right?”

and that’s how he had you bent over right across the table, ass perked alllll the way up as he pushed up the flimsy excuse of a skirt you wore—revealing the pretty pink lacy thong you had on underneath.

“…shitttt sweetgirl, you wearin’ this for me?”, he let out a low whistle, punctuated with a rough squeeze to your ass.

you tried to turn your head round to face him but he tangled a hand in your hair, pressing your head down into the smooth finish of the desk. “uht uht, you stay riiiiiight there… need to let me take a gooood look at my patient”

you could practically feel the weight of his gaze against the back of your legs and thighs. dragging all the way up to your core, pale pink panties dampening by the second as your psychiatrist…examined you.

“m’kay..tell me what i did next”

“uh, y-you slid in from the back”

the harsh click of the metal buckle of his belt echoed around the quiet of the room, “damn…you didn’t want no foreplay, no nothing?”

thick fingers creeped up to your inner thigh, caressing the soft skin. pushing aside the soaked panties as he gave a tentative stroke against the warmth of your pussy.

“hmmm, you always this wet each time i see you?”, inching down to your clit he swirled his fingers around with clinical precision, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you involuntarily moved back to meet his hands.

you could hear a slight rustling of papers, and feel his body weight rest slightly more onto the back of your spine. your eyes slid round to see him, only to find him scribbling down more notes onto his notepad—lips curled with concentration as he pressed one finger into your tight entrance and continued to write down his thoughts.

“hnnnng, what are you—shit—writing?”

“you sure you wanna know baby…it’s against best practice”

“t-tell me”, your hands moved to grip onto the edge of the table, allowing you to push back against his hand and feel the stretch of his fingers against your walls.

“nasty, nasty girl—it’s nothin’ too interesting. just somethin' 'bout your reaction to the current medication, must be somethin' that makes your pussy this wet f’me…”

with a slick pop! he removed the two fingers he had been scissoring inside your cunt, bringing the hand up to his mouth.

“mmhhh, knew you’d be sweet” he muttered, finally pushing down his slacks, you felt the thick length of his cock sliding against the slick that he’d smeared around your cunt.

“you ready to have your dream come true mama?”

“ye—” sliding in all the way to the hilt, you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs as you shifted against the desk—the force of the thrust shuddering the whole desk.

“you need it slower?” his voice low and rough against the shell of your ear as he caged your body in against the desk. all you could think, feel, breathe was your psychiatrist; heady cologne making you feel even more weightless, sandwiched against the pressure of his body and the desk.

“n-noooooo, it’s perfect” you moaned, hand reaching up to thread a hand into his hair—pulling him closer. his thrusts continued to be commanding, your body yeilding to the control he had over you. it was as if he was carving out a space for himself inside of you, spongey walls easing themselves wider to accommodate him.

“you’re close, aren’t you…” you could hear a slight edge in voice, tone still light but there was an underlying tension between the words.

he slowed down slightly, taking more time to slowly drag himself along your walls. he moved back to be standing upright again, pulling out suddenly.

“need to see your pretty little face when you come—for your clinical records of course”

turning you over from the desk, he settled himself between your open legs; dark eyes roaming over the blown-out expression on your face, the beads of sweat forming along your hairline.

his hands trailed up from your navel to the swell of your breasts, thumbing over the peak of your nipples through the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“this better or worse than your dream?”

“betterrrrrr” you purred, back arching against the oak as he continued to rub you through the fabric.

pushing aside your thighs, he settled up against you; cock sliding up and down your folds, tap, tap, tap-ing it against your clit.

“you’re taking it well baby…you must’ve really needed this” his voice teasing and yet his body was still tense with need. you could feel he was holding himself back somehow, hands digging into your sides as he finally slid back into you—a low groan escaping the two of you.

“you gonna say thank you, hmm? you gonna thank your g-generous doctor, honey?” he murmured, the slower pace forcing you to feel every single inch he was giving you.

“thank-fuckk— you…” your voice was a whisper-scream at this point, hoarse from the borderline animalistic sounds that had been leaving your plush lips.

he stilled.

“thank you..what?”

you whined, the delicious pressure that had been building up in your core becoming almost unbearable. “hnngggh—doctor!!”

“lovely manners baby…” he continued, pace lazy and languid as if he had allll the time in the world

…wait a minute!!

“fuck i’m sorry baby, i think we don’t have too long left for your appointment—”

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

toji’s hand swiftly moved to cover your mouth, small smirk growing on his face as he saw the panic on your face. “you’re actin’ real scared…”, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “but i can feel the way you’re squeezing down onto me.”

and he wasn’t lying—yes, there was embarrassment and fear for getting caught but, underneath there was something…alluring about the risk of getting caught.

you could hear a slight murmur behind the door, likely the receptionist you had spoken to before the appointment. without missing a beat, toji turned his head to the door calling out to the woman on the other side.

“i’m a bit busy right now, girl was reallll upset when she came into the office today—give us 10”, his voice was unwavering, cool demeanor not matching the way his hips were driving into you; hard and unrelenting, body trembling under the force of his thrusts.

you heard a few more sounds and then footsteps as she retreated, thighs clamping around both sides of your psychiatrist as you finally reached your peak—white hot pleasure flooding through your entire body as you lay limp against the cool oak of the desk. the PLAPP, PLAPP, PLAAP of your release against the two of your bodies only spurred toji on further, thrusts deepening until he suddenly pulled out and finished onto your slick pussy and thighs—thick ropes of warm, sticky cum clinging onto you.

“you look good like this…” he muttered almost to himself as he tucked himself back into his trousers, “so, was it better than the dream or what?”

“y-yeah, better..thanmydream” your breathing was uneven, as you rose up to your elbows and attempted to stand. “heyyy, you might want to sit down for a moment—need to do an evaluation before i can let you go.”

“next session, i recommend we go through the rest of your dream, ‘kay?”

a/n: y'all get the reference right!??!!

[shy-writer-999]

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 (𝓋𝒾)

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Summoned to Prince Ace's chambers, you've been told you're supposed to give him a massage, but it appears the prince is more interested in running his mouth. One thing leads to another, and when the night ends, you can't decide if you feel sweet or sour about it. ANGST! See CWs. ~4.5k words.

Part 6 of (?) - (read part 1 here) Pairing: Ace x reader (she/her pronouns used) CW: NSFW! DUBCON! Out of character Ace! Fingering! Abuse of power, manipulation, etc. etc. It's no good! Minors begone, omg!!

✦ Chapter 6: You've taken my soul and left me with a sick heart ✦

“Hello, gorg—oh, Luffy!” The now familiar, huge doors to Prince Ace’s chambers swung open. The prince’s eyes flitted between you and Luffy. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much, just felt like walking her over here,” Luffy smiled and nudged you with an elbow. “You know I’m always trying to hang out with her more, but you keep trying to hog her from me, Ace! Don’t get greedy.”

Prince Ace let out a laugh. “Greedy? I’m not getting greedy, Luffy, I hardly know the girl. Can’t a man get a massage now and then without getting harassed for it?”

You stood off to the side while the pair bickered. You couldn’t tell if they were being serious or silly. The fact that the conversation was about you made you feel funny inside. How did you end up here? Would it all be taken away someday soon? What did Prince Ace want with you?

Your mind swam with questions before you snapped out of it.

“Yeah, yeah, Luffy, I get it, but don’t you think you’re the one being greedy? Keeping her all to yourself?” Prince Ace smirked and Luffy rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Ace, just have her back by midnight. We have things to do!” He threw his hands up. Maybe this wasn’t a joke.

“We have things to do too, you know. I’ll see you later, little bro. Come with me, pretty lady.” Prince Ace beckoned to you, ushered you through the doors, and before they closed behind you, you caught a glimpse of Luffy’s face. Color rose to his cheeks and his jaw was clenched. He definitely wasn’t thrilled.

“Midnight!” He shouted as Ace essentially slammed the door in his face.

“Phew,” Prince Ace exhaled as he guided you through the main room. “He can be so overbearing and annoying sometimes. I’ve been trying to see you for a while, and he always declines. Guess I got lucky today. Who’d have thought you’d have two princes fighting over you?”

When you looked at him, he winked. You felt heat creeping up your neck; your heartbeat quickened. You could hardly bear to look him in the eyes. He was just too attractive.

You finally arrived at the same small sitting area where you had a drink with him before.

“Take a seat,” he motioned, and you obliged. “How’s your day so far?”

You studied him cautiously. He was looking at you like he would pounce on you any second. You were half afraid and half excited—it was a confusing mix of emotions.

“My day was good. Luffy and I hung out.”

“Mmm. What did you guys do?”

“Ah—well, we had lunch together and then he gave me a facial treatment.”

“Oh, really? When did he learn how to do that?”

The prince looked inquisitive. The predatory look on his face melted away a bit while he questioned you. Some humanity seeped back into his eyes. You appreciated that he ignored an obvious opportunity for a double entendre-style inappropriate joke.

“I taught him how. He asked me a while ago. It was fun. I haven’t had a spa service done to me in ages, usually it’s me giving them. So it was nice.”

Your smile was as sweet as every dessert imaginable to Prince Ace. He relished it before responding.

“That’s fun. He’s a nice guy—easy going, kind, sort of innocent, always oblivious—don’t you think? It’s a shame he doesn’t really care about women, or I’m sure you’d be head over heels for him by now.”

Your heart froze for a millisecond before running rampant. Luffy doesn’t care about women? You asked yourself. You weren’t sure what Prince Ace meant by that, or why he even brought it up in the first place. But…

Something about this felt manipulative. Like he had ulterior motives. If he was trying to be manipulative like this, you concluded, this man was rotten inside. Something was amiss. Also, head over heels? How could he tell? Was he just trying to provoke you again, or was he genuinely curious? Was he trying to knock you down, or dig for more information? Answers to these questions hung in front of your mind’s eye and shape shifted away before the prince started to run his mouth again.

“Are you not surprised,” he continued, eyes aflame, “that I said he doesn’t care about women? I hope that doesn’t make you upset. It’s just how Luffy is. I can’t tell you how many women have fallen for him, and he either leaves them to go to sea, or breaks their hearts unwittingly and ignores their advances. I’m sure that won’t happen to you, though. You seem too clever to fall for a prince. After all, we are kind of out of your league.”

Something akin to hatred welled up in your heart. He was certainly provoking you. He was trying to be cruel, or play with you, or something else. You knew Luffy wasn’t heartless like Prince Ace was implying, but something in your brain whispered to you, what if Prince Ace was telling the truth? What if Luffy was going to leave you to go to sea, and never see you again?

You already knew that you would do anything to prevent that from happening.

“I can’t imagine that Luffy has any ulterior motives with me other than being my friend,” you replied icily. “If he leaves me to go to sea, so be it. I’m not under any delusion that our friendship is a normal or sustainable one. Yet you seem to be so preoccupied with it.”

A grin spread over the prince’s lips. This was just what he wanted—some fire to play with.

“I do, don’t I? I wonder why that might be…”

The room was quiet for a moment while his eyes swept from your head to toes, surveying your whole personhood. His cheeks flushed pink. You could not get a read on this man. One moment he was cruel and audacious, and another he was staring you down ravenously and alluding to something scandalous.

“Speaking of preoccupied, I actually have something for you,” he said. “Let me find it.”

He started to rummage through his pockets. No luck, apparently. He turned to a small chest next to his couch and started to rummage through that as well.

“Aha—found it.” The box was small, velvety, and red. “I have something for you. I know I pick on you, and that I provoke you, so I wanted to get this for you to make up for it. I’m not going to stop doing either of those things, but I wanted to make a peace offering of sorts. Give me your hand.”

You took a deep breath. This man was crazy. He was absolutely nuts and he was giving you whiplash. You half-loved and half-hated it. It made you feel weird inside.

As you held out your hand to Prince Ace, he pulled a thin, gold chain from the box and started to fix it to your wrist. It was delicate and luxurious, obviously extremely expensive, an accessory you’d never had the chance to even dream about.

“All done.”

You pulled your wrist to your face and inspected the chain. It was fine and made with extreme caution, you observed. This took someone many, many hours to craft. And it must have cost thousands.

“Prince Ace, I can’t possibly accept something so lavish. I’m not fit to wear it, and I don’t deserve the attention. It’s absurd. Surely, you’re mistaken in wanting to give a servant girl like me a gift like this. I don’t think I did anything so precious as to warrant such attention.”

He chuckled. “Just accept the bracelet. It’s an order. I’d like you to wear that all the time. It’s a token of my appreciation for those magic hands of yours. My way to pay back your time and work. It isn’t so bad, is it? Look at it.”

You inspected it again, uneasy and apprehensive. Your stomach flipped in something like anxiety and dread.

“Why, though, Prince Ace?”

“Because pretty women should wear pretty things. Do I need more of a reason than that?” His tone was severe, almost a complete 180. It turned harsh and obviously annoyed. “Just accept that and wear it for me, won’t you?”

Your mind flashed with potential responses, strategies, and hypotheticals. You could just take the bracelet off later. You felt like he was going to hound you about it if you didn’t accept it right now. If that appeased him, then so be it.

“Well then, thank you, your highness. It’s an honor.”

His grin widened. “That’s more like it. No take backs, okay? That’s yours.”

You sighed. Whatever this man was trying to rope you into wasn’t your cup of tea. You’d been over this hundreds of times in your head. It was too dangerous. Not worth it.

“Now what?” He asked.

“Well… didn’t you call me here for a massage?” You arched an eyebrow, patience for this man and his games running thin.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I did… Do you think I need a massage?”

“Do I think? I’m sorry, your highness, it just depends on how you feel.”

Now it was Prince Ace who sighed. He leaned to the side table and poured two drinks—the same deep red, alcoholic drink from last time—and thrust one in your direction. He eyed you between sips.

“I have an idea,” he started, voice deeper and huskier than before. “Why don’t you tell me how I feel? Rise and come stand in front of me.”

“Yes, your highness.” His cheeks reddened and his eyes twinkled when he heard your words. You took a swig and placed your glass to the side.

Time felt like it slowed down. You suspected that he was about to make a move on you. As you rose and advanced to him, your heart pattered. He looked so smug. Part of you despised him, and the other part of you was obsessed with him. Part of you wanted to sneer and deride him, and the other wanted to get on top of him and caress him.

Standing in front of where he sat on the couch, you looked down. The prince’s thighs were spread wide, his arms rested on top of the couch, and his eyes felt like they were burning into your skin again. His black hair was pushed back at the temples, wavy and perfect. His cheeks glowed pink.

“Closer,” he commanded, reaching up and grabbing both your wrists. “Feel me. Do you think I need a massage? What do those pretty hands say?”

He pulled your wrists down slowly and placed your palms on his abdomen. “Go ahead. How tight are my muscles?”

Hands still wrapped around your wrists, Prince Ace dragged your palms around his abdomen and chest, making you feel his burning skin and quickened breaths.

This was bad. Very bad. Dangerously bad. Stupidly bad.

When the prince let go of your hands, they kept moving of their own accord. It’s like you couldn’t stop yourself, completely absorbed. His skin was soft, and his muscles were hard. The combined tactile sensation was fascinating. The wiry happy trail that worked its way up his abdomen, stopping just short of his navel, also fascinated you. Curly, black hair. His chest was broad, ridiculously muscular. You forgot yourself for a good ten seconds, taking your job seriously and getting lost in the curvature of his body, one sculpted by the gods.

“Are my muscles tight?” He glowered up at you. His expression and general aura were concerning—he looked pissed off and extremely horny at the same time. This is not a normal combination of emotions, you told yourself. What’s this dude’s problem? And why do I kind of like it?

You knew that your hands shouldn’t be on this man right now but… you wanted them to be. And he told you that they should be. His orders would be a good excuse for your own actions, you told yourself in disgust at the words you strung together. If Prince Ace ordered you to do something that you knew you shouldn’t do, but wanted to do, then that would work in your favor. What sick and twisted logic that was, you reprimanded yourself.

“Yes, I think your muscles are tight, your highness,” you replied to him after seriously studying and prodding at his skin. A soft, sinful sounding groan slipped through his lips, causing you to freeze.

“I wonder,” he murmured, leaning up again to place his hands on your hips, “if your muscles are tight, too.”

Prince Ace pulled you down on top of him in one swift motion, eliciting a squeak from you. Being manhandled caught you off guard, and it happened in what felt like less than a second. You were straddling him now, robes bunched up, on the couch. His hands rested on your hips.

“I’ve heard a good prince never bites unless prompted,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Do you want me to bite?”

The prince’s hands crept down from your hips to your ass. He grabbed two strong handfuls.

 “C’mon,” he whispered again. You were almost too shocked to speak, but the sensation of his lips swiping across your collar bones sent electric zaps through your body.

“Y-yes, your highness,” you whispered back, shaking with nerves, excitement, adrenaline, and gods know what else. You weren’t thinking straight; part of you gave into this man, a wolf in wolf’s clothes—he didn’t even try to feign being harmless. You couldn’t imagine what he wanted to do to you. Or why that was. But if he kept touching you… You wanted him viscerally. It was taking the utmost effort to hold yourself back, and your resolve had worn so thin that it broke.

The soft grazes of his lips turned into nibbles. He brought a hand up into your hair, taking a deep breath of the scent on the back of your neck. His other hand shifted to your waist, where you felt him press you down onto him. Something rubbed on you from below—you didn’t dare hypothesize on what that could be.

He did it again. Your waist was leveraged downwards with his grip while he pushed his hips up. Oh, you thought. That’s what he wanted.

Oh.

Prince Ace did it again and your breath hitched.

“Tell me what you really think of me,” he muttered, puffs of air hot on your ear while his hands wandered south. They inched underneath your robes and trailed across the skin on your thighs. He grabbed one thigh in each hand. His thumbs pressed into your skin. “Don’t hold back.”

“P-prince Ace, please, I—it’s improper,” you blurted the words out in a moment of lucidity.

“Who cares about that? I won’t tell a single soul, you know. Not even Luffy. What we do right now won’t leave this room…” his hands slid upwards. “Now, tell me what you really think about me.”

Prince Ace’s fingers found the sweet spots they had been searching for. Albeit over your undergarments, they drew pretty patterns and caressed you while you tried to speak coherently.

“Your highness, I—oh,” you gasped in advertently, “what I really—really think about you?”

“Out with it,” he almost sounded like he was growling. “I said don’t hold back, didn’t I? Take that as an order.”

The prince’s fingers were quite distracting. They were persistent, unrelenting, and attentive. Every shudder or tremble was a signal to him. He was memorizing exactly how you liked to be touched.

“How I really th-think about you, your highness, is—ah, fuck, you’re—you’re conceited,” you spat out amidst quiet sounds of desperation. “You’re conceited. And confusing, and full of yourself, and ah—ah fuck, you’re entitled, and I can’t stand you.”

He chuckled, relishing your candor; his hands went still. “And?”

“And you’re so fucking hot it makes me sick to look at you. I think I hate you.” It came out as a whisper. You averted your eyes. What the fuck am I doing? You asked yourself.

“That’s more like it, darling. Now tell me what you want me to do to you.” The prince’s words were interrupted by kisses to your neck. “Your wish is my command, princess.”

“Anything, your highness,” the depravity jumped out of you. It jumped out of its own accord. Your self control, much like his, had been swept away in a sea of touch starved loneliness and stress.

“Anything? Don’t say that,” he cooed. “You don’t know what you’re in for.”

His fingers slipped under the fabric they danced on and you let out a gasp. His fingers were unnaturally hot—it was an insane sensation; almost as if his fingers melded with your skin, like you couldn’t tell where they began and ended.

He let out another sinful groan.

“This soaked already, huh? Does your highness get you this worked up? Say it.”

“Yes, your highness.” His fingers drew haphazard shapes and your hips bucked. You collapsed into his neck, breathing heavily, not thinking straight, mind dancing in confusion. You lost control—something about this man made you lose control.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” the prince murmured in your ear and you could feel his breath, hot and ticklish. “You’re mine, do you understand me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You were too busy stifling your moans into his neck.

“So easy to play with, it’s almost like you wanted this from the start… In fact, I knew you did from the second I laid my eyes on you. Now, tell me you want more.”

“More, your highness.”

He pressed a finger upwards and felt you squirm on top of him.

“You’re a sensitive one. You see,” he whispered, voice dripping in a combination of spite and overt lust, “Luffy wouldn’t know what to do with you. I don’t think he could handle you. You need someone to touch you right here—and he’d be at a loss to find it, no?”

His finger pressed on your hot spot, causing a body-wracking moan to escape your lips. His words were disgusting, degrading, and filthy. You were ashamed to admit to yourself how much you liked them. This man knew exactly what he was doing to you. Every mention of Luffy’s name made you nauseous, but while his fingers explored, they produced zaps of lecherous pleasure so intense that you forgot about the nausea the second after it happened.

Prince Ace pulled away from your neck, putting a palm on your cheek and looking deep into your eyes while his other hand held still.

“Forget about Luffy, will you?” He purred, pressing his lips to yours. They were soft and warm. “Forget about Luffy. I never want you looking at another man again. You’re mine.”

Your stomach flipped again at Luffy’s name. You already felt awful about doing this—whatever this was—with Luffy’s brother. Would he feel betrayed? Would he look down on you? Would he still—

Your questioning was immediately cut off. Prince Ace moved his fingers again and you forgot where you were, too lost in pleasure to care about anything else.

Small, insistent circles drawn by his fingertips were driving you crazy. “Prince A-Ace, I can’t—I’m, I’m going to—”

“Shhhh, gorgeous. Just let me have some fun with you.”

The prince kissed a soft line up your neck and pressed his hips upwards until you saw stars, delirious and engrossed with his every movement.

Minutes passed like this. You had no clue how long it went on.

When you were finished, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, regaining sentience in that classic but unfortunate clarity that often accompanies these things.

The prince—it took you a second to realize—was petting your head now, fingers withdrawn and most likely licked clean.

If you turned off your brain, turned off those screaming thoughts that told you you just fucked everything up, and focused on the moment, it wasn’t too bad actually. You did an exercise of detaching yourself from the moment, in search of some reprieve for the torrent of emotions that plagued you.

Your brain ran wild before Prince Ace broke you out of it and into the present.

“Hey gorgeous,” he muttered in a low tone, close to your ear. “How ya feelin’? You doing okay?”

His hand still stroked your head, and the other one snaked around your midriff to hold you closer to him. You mumbled a string of syllables that he couldn’t understand into his skin.

“Baby, I can’t hear you. Are you okay? We didn’t over-do it?”

You raised your head from the shadow of his neck and blearily looked into his eyes. Your skin was glowing, cheeks hot, hair messed up, a slight pout tugging your lips down in your brain-scrambled traces of remorse that were starting to bubble inside.

At a loss for words, you looked at him for a second, frowned, then pushed your face back into his neck. He laughed.

“Awh, c’mon gorgeous, what’s that pout for? Can’t a couple of pretty people entertain themselves like this without feeling guilty? Don’t tell me you don’t want round two?”

He went back to petting your head. This was a moment of disturbing intimacy, you thought. This prince coddling and petting you after bringing you to orgasm. An orgasm you knowingly agreed to against your better judgment.

Luffy flashed through your mind, and you started to feel overwhelmed with self-disgust. Again, you asked yourself, what the fuck am I doing?

Prince Ace felt you take a deep breath in and out, steadying yourself for whatever would come next. You resolved to not have sex with him, no matter how appealing and convincing you were. That just felt like one step too far. In fact, you already went too far.

You started moving, trying to sit up and get off of him, but his arm around your waist held you tight.

“Trying to get away from me so soon? Don’t be so stressed and hurried, gorgeous. I told you, Luffy won’t think anything of it, so there’s no need for you to be pouty. He won’t care. But I do care. And I want you to come to bed with me and let me spoon you asleep. What do you say?”

You acquiesced and let yourself be carried to his bedroom. It was later than you expected, maybe 11PM. Luffy wouldn’t get to see you at midnight like he hoped.

You felt defeated. Defeated by nothing more than the words of a very persuasive and attractive prince, combined with the fatal aspect of your own desire for connection, touch, and pleasure.

You bathed in your feelings of self-disgust, wallowing in a mix of regret and confusion, while Prince Ace embraced you from behind.

His bed was big. The room was dark. He smelled nice. He nuzzled into your neck, wrapped an arm around you, and you felt his body go still and heavy after a while. By some miracle, you fell asleep not too long after him. 

Your brief sleep was fitful. There was absolutely no rest involved. When you regained consciousness, it must have been around 2AM. Utter stillness in the room. It took you a second to remember that the man with heavy, muscular arms slung all over you was none other than Prince Ace, heir to the throne, brother of Luffy—apparently, a conniving and predatory man, and, apparently, one who felt like being sweet sometimes.

You wiggled your way out of his arms and sat up, looking at him with your breath held, lest he wake up after being moved around. He didn’t.

While he continued to slumber, you examined him in the soft moonlight.

Like his brother, this man was hard to pin down. You could tell that he had issues. Case and point: trying to manipulate and seduce one of his brother’s friends (and cherished waitstaff). You had an inkling of a feeling that he had done this before, and this feeling was backed up by Luffy’s words echoing in your head from the evening prior. Luffy cautioned you to be wary of his brother getting “intense.”

You held back a scoff. Intense was an understatement. Prince Ace was feral and unpredictable. You shouldn’t have let him play you like a fiddle, you told yourself. But boy, did it feel good. You wondered what Luffy would think, and if he would ever find out. You would have to tell him. There’s just no way you could keep it from him. You were sure he’d be understanding… right?

The prince let out deep sigh in his sleep. He must have been dreaming of something.

In the pale lighting, Prince Ace’s features looked softer. His face looked kinder. Even though you hardly knew him, even though he was using you as some sort of pawn or plaything, you liked him more than you wanted to admit to yourself. Was it just his association with Luffy? Or was it the couple moments when his nasty, conniving behavior slipped away and you saw him act in all sincerity?

Your heart panged at the thought of Luffy. It was time for you to leave. Maybe this incident, this mistake, as you called it, would be reason enough for Luffy to leave you here.

Maybe you just fucked everything up. Maybe he’d set out to sea forever and forget you, like Prince Ace said he would.

Could Luffy really love you, after you messed around with his brother? Was he selfless and kind enough to think like that? Or would he see you as off limits now, damaged goods, already spoken for? Maybe he would kick you out of his waitstaff and never look at you again. Maybe he’d revoke his offer to take you out to sea.

You pushed yourself up and off the bed. It was time to go.

Quietly shuffling through the vast, dark palace corridors, you made your way back to Luffy’s quarters. Your heart thumped.

Would he be awake, still waiting?

You reached the doors and turned the handle; he was there, in the main chamber. He had fallen asleep, face first, on the table. He waited for you to get back from Prince Ace’s place, and when you never returned, he dozed off and faceplanted asleep.

Your heart hurt. You put a soft blanket over him and went to your room. You felt sick.

< last chapter | masterlist | next chapter >

so the fated chapter is here. the chapter i know will be the most polarizing. are you team ace or luffy? you wouldn't do what she did, right? or... would you? i def would. i'd be begging for round two three four, etc.

but don't fret, dear reader! there's hope. there are max 2-3 chapters left of this fic. if you're unhappy with the events of this chapter, stick around. the next two chapters certainly will make up for it. all this build up leads to a grand finale - full of drama, violence, emotions, and more! (i'm going to try to put out another chapter this week, as promised.)

taglist: @eggrollforyou @starchild-unnamed @ocean-mochi  @dahl14 @starzbrii @qhevy @midnightbears @divinedolliebun @hrhqueenfox @lonelygirlonblvd @csbnova @stranger-chan @calypsolstice @luffysofficialwife @acesdiary @sylum @arielaufson @winterquinnhawkings @padparadschq @cupid73 @hanaimimi @luna4839493749374984 @nicolemireles1-blog @kaurochika @amoroso05 @iitsnotfj @ratchetprime211

[xylatox]

To my first || psh

Life is good when I get to read another fic of Patty’s. Istg this girl only knows how to cause me the most pain ever. Seeing it inspired by Love Next Door </3 oh my god. Literally didnt have the heart to start the show because I know my heart couldnt handle it. Anyways unto my thoughts

The picture of Sunghoon and you at your high school graduation that was glued to your mirror was fading in the sunlight, the colors slowly losing their vibrance.

I was stressed at the beginning and this just stresses me out more. I am so not ready for this

That today he would come to the reunion telling you about his wife, his kids, how great his life was. He deserved nothing more.

Crying and sobbing, I cant do this

Also Nct member cameos <33 

Shuddering at mc talking about all the med stuff because that wouldve been me in another life and you know what, im thankful it isnt me

Jay answered without looking up. “The funeral.”

?????? Patty….

Patty…..

Dont do this to me….

Dont

Ignoring that for a moment

“Sorry I’m late,” he said lightly, reaching for a glass of water. “Client wouldn’t stop talking.”

Hoon in a suit>>>> HELLLLLLOOOOO

????

PATTTY???

OH MY GOD

JAY’S GIRLFRIEND’S FUNERAL

You mentioned this to me no??/

Girl.

Girllllll

Oh my god

You gave a small nod, lips twitching. “You always did like telling me what to eat.”

“You always needed help deciding,” he replied easily, looking at his menu again.

Oh my god Ill throw up stop. Patty you are making me go through a wave of emotions

That made Sunghoon pause, his brow ticking up slightly. “Kai?”

“Yeah, you probably remember him. Tall, really soft-spoken, kinda chaotic. We study together sometimes.”, you shrugged. 

“My mom,” he said with a small grin, not even pretending to be subtle. “She keeps me updated. Involuntarily.”

Jesus I cant do this

“My mom,” he said with a small grin, not even pretending to be subtle. “She keeps me updated. Involuntarily.”

“Involuntarily” Hoon stfu </3 (I hate him, lovingly)

Seeing them talk makes me so happy tho :c i love them even if i know this is going to stress me out

You grinned. “Too late. I already have a target vein.”

Giggling because my aunt and I think like this and always talk about veins that a good for drawing blood😭

“And…” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing back at you. “I never got to say it, but, thank you. For what you did for Jay. And you helped with Haneul after.”

Patty i beg please dont do this to me

Your rolled our eyes. “I had three cans this morning.”

Literally went oh my god out loud; this is crazy

“Oh, have fun with that. I’ll probably enjoy it,” he said with mock gravity. “I’ve heard you curse. It’s like poetry. Angry, caffeine-fueled poetry.”

Stop hes so annoying

Can they just like kiss and get back together already, please

He reached out and brushed it gently behind your ear. His fingers warm against the skin on your cheek.

Going to pass out i wont survive this

“She was grilling me earlier,” you said. “Asked if I had any ‘good eggs left.’ I thought she meant for the deviled platter, but nope she meant my ovaries. She told my how my job is so hard and asked whether I plan to freeze my eggs, because she would love me to have some precious kids. I think it came from the right place, but it was still kinda weird.”

This entire paragraph is insane wtf

He smiled faintly. “Because my mom is still hoping you freeze your eggs so I can give you some sturdy kids someday.”

Oh my god, i hate that i giggled

Your mom tutted but looked pleased. “Come in, come in. Look at you! So skinny! You need to eat something.”

Its cute because mc’s mom does it so sweetly and hoon’s mom is just scary

“I go to the gym 4 days a week, Aunty. I am strong," Sunghoon said, deadpan.

So cute :c 

Mc and her niece are so cute it makes me so soft

“Y/N, this is Seol,” Jay’s girlfriend turned around from the front, a warm smile on her face. 

Oh my heart my brain, everything

“Y/N,” Sunghoon said softly. “We’re at a rest stop. Do you wanna stretch, pee, get something to eat?”

Giggling because it unintentionally rhymed 

“Man,” you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and letting yourself fall face-first into the mattress, “I’m so tired I might actually cry.”

Ive done this before LOL

You rolled onto your side, hugging the pillow. “Maybe I was a toddler. But you still loved me.”

There was a pause. 

“Shut up and sleep.”, he threw the pillow back at you and it hit your back with a dull thud. 

I love them :( 

If you are still active on anki when i take my next break ill come to that house and steal your electric devices! 

I tried to use anki once for ug and failed terribly

Taking a moment to say I feel so sad for her :( Like shes so busy and you can see how much she fears missing out on life and experiences around her and with her friends :( 

He moved again and his bed creaked. “Would it help… if we shared one bed?”

If i start sobbing then what.

The moment between Hoon, mc and Haneul…Patty :( you only know how to break me

“It’s just… I don’t know.” His voice dipped lower. “That was really cute. You, with her.”

STOP IT

“But,” you added quickly, holding out your hand, “I can hold your hand while Uncle Honnie carries you, if that’s okay with you.”

She sniffled once, then nodded solemnly, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

This is saur cute stop

But instead, you curled slightly closer and let yourself feel what you usually didn’t have time to: the ache of being known and the comfort of being loved, even if it was from behind closed eyes.

Patty :(((( 

For the first time in years, you actually felt like crying. Your eyes burned, and you blinked aggressively, to stop your tears from falling. You weren’t going to cry. You couldn’t cry. Not again. You were over this, over him. Or at least you liked to pretend you were.

PATTTYYY :(((( 

“Can you…”, you cleared your throat, “would it be okay for you if we slept in one bed?”

Stop it :( 

THE TRACKING LETTERS PATTY I CANT DO THIS

The kind that made you wish time could slow down just a little more.

Seriously, i cant do this

“I always thought we’d get married,” you said eventually, voice smaller than you meant it to be. “I thought we’d have a kid by now.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, just let his gaze follow yours into the wet dark beyond the glass.

“I know,” he said. “I thought that too.”

Oh my god

“I had a whole proposal planned,” he continued. “In Vietnam, you know that trip we were planning? I was gonna pretend we were just taking pictures at sunset, hand you the camera, and when you turned around… I’d be on one knee.”

OH MY GOD.

PATTTTTTY

Where is this love in the world rn wtf

FINALLLLYYY

Oh my god finally

Patty.

You stress me out

Im mad at you

“I know it’s not fair,” you said. “And I know it’s going to be hard. I have my exam in February, and things won’t suddenly be easy. But if you’d let me, if there’s even a small part of you that still wants this, I’d love to try again. I want to try to be better. To be someone who doesn’t run. To be your girlfriend again.”

…Im no longer mad at you

The end oh my goodness :( Patty girl, im always so happy to read your work even if it causes me pain and the slow burn always hurts like a mf. But im so glad to be able to read another one of your works once again <33

TO MY FIRST 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

⭑.ᐟ A rainy Highschool reunion trip with Exes Med Student!Y/N and Lawyer!Sunghoon You knew Sunghoon would be there. Of course he would be. You had made your peace with it. You’re friends now, kind of. It’s fine. Really. Seeing him at your Highschool reunion was kind of a given. That you agreeded going onto a trip with your friends, including him, later that year, however surprised yourself. Sunghoon can somehow still read you like an open book. Of course he could. He was the person you once planned to marry...until life got in the way. You buried yourself in work, in reaching your goals. Between helping out with Jay's toddler, pretending you're not running on empty, and trying to avoid old feelings during the trip , you start to realize something: Somewhere along the way, you stopped living the life you actually wanted. And maybe, just maybe, there’s still time to fix it.

⋆｡◛ ⊹ ⤳ requested ･:*:･｡☆

ᝰ genre. exes to lovers, fluff, angst (just a tiny bit tho) and loads of yearning, heavily inspired by the kdrama 'Love Next Door' ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warning. stress at work and uni , mention of burnout, insomnia, mentions of death, Y/N is lowkey unhappy with some life choices she made .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 31.5 k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 2 my masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

“Y/N. You have to come”, Yunjin whined into the phone loud enough for you to lower the volume of your phone with your free hand. 

“I don’t know Yu”, the emart you were in was fuller than you expected it to be on a Thursday morning at 9 am. “I really don’t see the point in going. We are still in contact, aren’t we? All the people that I want to see, I do, and there are way too many I am glad to not see ever again.”

“Y/N that's the whole point! What about Chaehyun? Or Jake and Jay? Or, oh I don't know, Gaeul? You haven’t met up with her in months?”  You signed and walked towards the frozen section in the supermarket. Lately you didn’t really feel like cooking nor had the time to do so. Jaemin did cook sometimes but most of the time the two of you just got takeout or cooked ready to eat meals. Ramen was your top contender. You’ve tried probably every flavour on the market.  “I called her pretty recently? And I know I haven’t really caught up with the boys. Don’t you think it would be weird to be close to my exes best friends?” “First of all you called Gaeul like two months ago, that's not recent,” Yujin huffed. “And I don't think it would be weird? We were all friends, even after the two of you broke up, remember?” “I know. I just…”, you really didn’t know why the thought of meeting everyone made you feel so queasy, Yunjin was right, they were your friends, or at least close acquaintances. “I don’t know Yu, I feel like it would be weird. I mean I am really a shit friend. I don’t keep up with everyone's life and I never have much to talk about except work or uni right now. That's all my life is.” “Oh, I know. I’ve never seen a worse texter than you, Y/N. But I don’t think the others would mind, they would probably all be excited to see you. It’s been a while and you really deserve a break Y/N. Even if it’s just one evening. Working yourself to the ground only to get your licence won’t make you graduate faster or a better doctor. I am worried you’re working yourself into a burnout”, she said softly. 

You swallowed and stopped in front of the big freezers, looking at the rows after rows of frozen products. She was right. In the last few years your focus has fully been on your studies, your residency or your Board Certification Exam and you didn’t have much time or mental space for other things. Right now work took up most of your awake hours, but somehow it was really fulfilling. Most of the time at least. You loved being a doctor, a gynecologist to be exact. You loved your job, helping people, healing people, bringing new life to the world. Of course there were the shadow sides like the almost 100 hour work week or the days you lose patients. Losing a life is never easy, and would never get easier. You hated shifts in the NICU. “I know. I know.”, you sighed again. “Look Yu, I’ll see what I can do. Maybe someone can switch shift with me, don’t get your hopes too high tho.”  “Yes! I knew I could convince you! You absolutely will be there!”, Yunjin cheered loudly again.  “I just said don’t get your hopes up?”, you shook your head and threw three packets of frozen vegetable mixes into your basket. “Nah uh! You’ll come. I’ll personally call the hospital to ask them to give you that day off, I swear.” You chuckled, “Please do. I would love to see that happen.” 

────────────────────────

You stood in your old room at your parents house, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked so different to the girl you were 10 years ago when you graduated high school. Your face looked pale in the reflection and your eyes lost the spark they once had. In the pictures glued to your mirror they were so full of life, of ambition. You were so excited for the future that was to come, not fully realizing that the path you choose to take will be harder than you and anyone else back then could have imagined. Nonetheless, you were proud of yourself and still excited to do what you do. You just wanted to finally be done studying, work in an office outside the hospital until you had enough to open your own, give care to mothers and young girls and whoever else has to go to a Gyno. The way to get there would be hard but so worth it. It was your dream after all. You opened your bag and fished for your makeup pouch, applying generous amounts all over your face. The blush you stole from your mother gave you a bit of color back.  You were staying at your parents house, since it was a lot closer to the event location where the 10 year reunion was taking place. It was weird to sleep in your childhood bedroom. Not much has changed in the last 10 years here. Your parents had enough rooms in the house to not really have a purpose for your room anymore. So they just left it be. All your pictures and trinkets in the places you left them. It was like walking into a different world. 

The picture of Sunghoon and you at your high school graduation that was glued to your mirror was fading in the sunlight, the colors slowly losing their vibrance. You reached up and straightened the corners, where the paper lifted from the tape and smiled. Sunghoon was really handsome back then. The way he looked at you instead of the camera made you feel so bittersweet. You always thought he would be the one you would marry, that you would have your first and only love for ever. But life was weird sometimes and it didn’t work out.  With the breakup and your life at uni getting more stressful you never really had much time for anyone but yourself and your friends maybe. Dating wasn’t really on your mind for a long time after you’ve overcome the heartbreak. You hoped he did. That today he would come to the reunion telling you about his wife, his kids, how great his life was. He deserved nothing more.

You sighed when the paper curled into itself again and turned around to get dressed. You and Jaemin, and Jeno, who had no choice, spent almost an hour trying to figure out what you should wear and the final verdict was a black pair of dress pants, the only pair of heels you owned for occasions like this, and a red wrap around top with rather delicate silver jewelry. You loved living with Jaemin, it was a lot of fun. The two of you met on your first day of uni and have been inseparable since then. When you and Sunghoon decided to end your relationship he immediately suggested moving together. He was living in the student dorm and was sick of it. 

So for the last almost 3 years now, you and Jaemin have been living in a rather beautiful apartment near the Seoul National Hospital. Last year he decided to adopt 3 cats, so now there was almost always a bit of chaos in your home. He got together with Jeno, a student, well back then a student a semester higher than the two of you almost 3 years ago now. They were super cute together, but Jeno decided to do his residency in Gangwon hospital, which meant the two of them didn’t really get to move together until Jeno is done and hopefully gets a job in Seoul. 

“Y/N?”, your mother startled you out of your thoughts, “Are you ready yet darling? If you want to be on time we have to go now.”  “Oh”, you turned around and looked at your mother, who was standing in the doorway to your room. She herself was attending a dinner with her colleague and an important client from overseas and offered to take you with her. She was styled impeccable, her gray hair in a strict bun and she was wearing a stunning one piece. You could gladly say you inherited her beauty and grace and annoyingly her work ethic. „I‘m done, mom.“, you nodded and grabbed your purse. „Oh look how pretty you look!“, your mom rubbed her hands up and down your arms when you passed her in the doorway. „My beautiful beautiful daughter. Let’s hurry! I don’t want you to be late!“  She ushered you towards the entryway, where both of you changed from slippers into your heels.

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The restaurant that was picked out for the reunion was an expensive looking one. The tables were all covered in thick white cloth, decked with wine glasses and multiple plates. Classical music was gently playing in the background when you made your way inside. The place was already buzzing with laughter coming from various groups at the entrance to the main room, enjoying champagne and the small appetizers displayed on various high tables.  You spotted Yunjin pretty quickly. She was talking to Heeseung and Jay, laughing at something she said. You didn’t really keep in touch with either of them after you and Sunghoon broke up three years ago. You all did grow up together but you didn’t want to make it awkward for them by still meeting up with them. And you honestly just didn’t want to know how Sunghoon was doing and you know you would have asked. Which wouldn’t have helped you getting over him.  Heeseung spotted you first, waving at you and smiling in your direction. You gave him a small wave back and continued your way through the crowd.  “Y/N!” Chaehyun, who was standing a few feet next to them, lit up the moment she saw you, standing to hug you tight. “You look so good! You cut your hair!” “Oh. Yeah. A few months ago,” you mumbled, glancing at your hair. 

“It looks fantastic, right? Do you know how long I had to endure her going back and forth about cutting it? Horrible!”, Yunjin whined and wrapped her arms around yours.  “I wanted to cut enough to donate it, but it wasn’t long enough, but I also desperately wanted to get rid of the hair”, you grumbled and shoved her away gently.  “Did you have enough to donate in the end?”, Chaehyun asked and passed you a flute of champagne from the table you were standing around.  “Yeah. I cut around 25 cm off.”  “Oh shit thats a lot”, Jake whistled and threw his arm around your shoulder, “Hi Y/N.”  “Hi Jake”, you laughed and boxed him into his side to get off you. You and Jake were going back to kindergarten days. Together with Sunghoon you attended kindergarten and elementary school until Jake went to Australia for a few years. The three of you were inseparable up until you and Sunghoon ended things.  “My mom told me you're almost done with your residency, will we be calling you Dr. Y/L/N soon?”, he asked and stole the flute out of your hand.  You took a deep breath in, “I already am Dr. Y/L/N if I might correct you. I’m done with my residency in a few months and then I have to study for the board certification exam. So some time next year I’ll be done with everything, yeah.” 

Just the thought of having to study for that exam made you want to curl into a corner and cry. The amount of stress that came with that exam and working at the same time was nothing anyone looked forward to.  “It’s so crazy you are pulling this through. You’ve got my deepest respect for that, Y/N.”, Jake tutted and shook his head.  “I’ve always wanted to be a doctor”, you shrugged and smiled at him.  “Everyone!”, Daewhi, your former class president, was standing on a stage further into the event location, “It’s lovely to see you all. Please take a seat, as we would like to start with ordering food. You’ll have enough time to mingle later on.” “Let’s go,” Jake pulled you with him toward one of the tables in the middle of the room, where your friends were already walking towards.  You settled down next to Jake and smiled at Ningning, who was seated opposite of you.  “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since we graduated,” Yujin said, glancing around. “When was the last time we were all together?” Jay answered without looking up. “The funeral.”

Ah. Right. You averted your gaze to look at your hands. “Yeah,” she murmured. “That wasn’t exactly the best time to catch up.” A suspicious looking ring on Ningning's ring finger caught your attention. But before saying anything you let your gaze wander towards Heeseung's hand. He was also wearing a suspicious looking ring. You weren't sure if you just missed it, or if they just didn’t tell you they got engaged, but your heart dropped a bit.  “Hey Jake,” you lowered your voice, to not raise suspicion if you just simply haven’t been told, “did Hee and Ningning get engaged?” His head snapped into your direction and then towards the couple, “What?”

“Look at the rings,” you said, having trouble suppressing your smile. Apparently they didn’t tell anyone.  “Heeseung what the fuck? You got engaged?”, Jake said excitedly.  Heeseung looked up mid-sip of water, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh?”.  “You are wearing a ring!” Yujin leaned in from the other side, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?!” Heeseung scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well... yeah. We wanted to tell you all tonight.” “You got engaged and didn’t tell me?” Jay looked personally offended. “We wanted to tell everyone at the same time,” Ningning said quickly. “We only told our parents. It’s been, like, three days.” The table erupted in noise, demanding details. You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up. You felt pure relief, knowing that you weren’t the only one who didn’t know. You were never really close with Heeseung and Ningning joined your friendgroup a year after you graduated Highschool, when she and Heeseung got together, so you weren’t as offended as the rest.  “Okay, but where did he propose?” Yujin was practically bouncing in her seat. “Yeah, Hee, if it wasn’t romantic I’m gonna be mad,” Jake added with mock severity. Heeseung shot Ningning a sheepish smile before answering. “Her apartment. I brought flowers, cooked dinner, and then... just kind of asked.” Jay snorted. “Classic. That’s the most Heeseung thing I’ve ever heard.” “It was perfect,” Ningning said softly, and the way she looked at him made your chest ache just a little. You smiled again, this time more to yourself, and leaned back in your chair. The second you glanced away from your friends you noticed a very familiar figure making its way towards your table. 

Sunghoon looked immaculate.  He was wearing a navy suit, with his hair styled neatly and a bag slung over his shoulder. Your eyes met for a second and he gave you a small smile. You returned it almost automatically and then looked back at Ningning who was talking about her parents' reactions, but you weren’t really listening.  He made his way over, greeting Jake with a handshake and Yunjin with a hug, then slid into the empty seat next to you without hesitation.  “Sorry I’m late,” he said lightly, reaching for a glass of water. “Client wouldn’t stop talking.” “Do they ever?” Heeseung offered. Sunghoon laughed, low and tired. “I don’t mind as long as they keep on paying.” He was immediately informed about the engagement and his eyes lit up excited as he started asking the same questions the couple already answered.  You had to almost physically fight the urge to stare at Sunghoon. The last time you saw him was at Jay’s girlfriend's funeral a few months after your break up.  A few minutes of excited chatting later, the waiter brought the menus. The whole table quieted down for a few minutes while everyone was deciding on what to eat. 

You were flipping back and forth not sure what you wanted to eat when Sunghoon leaned a little closer. “Take the fish,” he said quietly. “You’ll like it.” You glanced at him, surprised. “The fish?” “I’ve been here before. It’s good. Not too heavy either. You’ll like it.” You gave a small nod, lips twitching. “You always did like telling me what to eat.” “You always needed help deciding,” he replied easily, looking at his menu again. A moment passed before he gently closed it and turned towards you again.  “So…” he said, “how’s work? Are you still at SN?” You nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think changing hospital would have changed my workload after all.” “Do you still like it?” he asked with a small hum. You hesitated. Your residence was one of the main reasons why you and Sunghoon broke up. It felt like a touchy topic. “Most days, yes. Some days are just hard. But every job is like that, right?” “Mhm. That’s true”, he turned aback towards the table, reaching for the wine card. “Are you still living with Jaemin?”  “Yeah.”, you nodded. “He adopted three cats a few months ago.” He laughed, eyes flicking back to you. “Three?” “Yep. And of course, Kai’s allergic, so I have to deep clean everything whenever he visits.”

That made Sunghoon pause, his brow ticking up slightly. “Kai?” “Yeah, you probably remember him. Tall, really soft-spoken, kinda chaotic. We study together sometimes.”, you shrugged.  Sunghoon didn’t say anything right away. Just nodded a little. You tapped the edge of your napkin and glanced sideways. “So… how have you been? With work and everything.” Sunghoon leaned back slightly in his chair, resting an arm casually along the back of yours. “It’s been good. I made partner this year.” You blinked. “Already?” He gave a small smile. “Yeah. I mean, it’s brutal hours, constant travel, and my phone might actually be fused to my hand now, but… I like it. Most days.” You nodded slowly. “That’s… impressive.” There was something oddly comforting about that echo of your own answer. “You started studying for the board already?”, he tilted his head a little toward you.  You blinked. “Yeah. I mean yes, I am. How did you…?” “My mom,” he said with a small grin, not even pretending to be subtle. “She keeps me updated. Involuntarily.” “Oh.” You paused, a little surprised. “Right.”

Your mother and his mother were close friends. You forbade your parents to talk about Sunghoon and they have never said anything about him to you. Your mother surely knew he was a partner, with how much his mother flexed with her golden son.  “She said you basically live in the hospital.” You huffed a soft laugh. “Oh lord. That comes from my mom. But yeah, she is kinda right. But, what can I say, night shifts pay better.” “Didn’t think she was wrong,” he said, glancing sideways. “After all, these ladies are the heart of the gossip mill in our neighborhood.” “That is right.”, you nodded slightly.  The waiter came and took your orders, interrupting your conversation. You ordered the fish.  Once the waiter stepped away, Sunghoon leaned in slightly, fingers idly tracing the stem of his champagne flute.

“And your parents?” he asked. “Still working?” You smiled a little. “Yeah. My mom’s been talking about retiring for three years now, but we both know she’d go crazy without it. She seriously has to find a hobby. My dad is still working in the hospital but not as chief physician anymore. He said he was too old for that amount off stress.” Sunghoon laughed quietly. “Sounds about right.” You glanced down at your hands. “I try to visit when I can or go on holidays with them, but it’s... not often. Last time I came down with a fever halfway through and spent most of the weekend in bed. My mom still complains about not having someone who actually takes good pictures around in Venice." “Didn’t know med students were allowed to get sick.” “We’re not. It’s humiliating,” you deadpanned, and he laughed again. You let yourself look at him, really look. His hair was a little longer than you remembered, styled neatly. There was a soft crease between his brows you hadn’t noticed when he first walked in. Tiredness, maybe" “Do you still live around Gangnam?” you asked. “Or did you move for work?” “I moved.” He hesitated. “Actually, I moved back in with my parents. Just a couple months ago.” You blinked. “Didn’t your sister move back in as well?"

“She did,” he said, then glanced down at his watch for a beat too long. “She and her husband divorced last year. But she’s back in Busan now.” “Oh.” You paused, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Sunghoon never really liked his brother-in-law, claiming he wasn’t good for his baby sister. They fought really hard when she told him she would marry him. SUnghoon and Yeji didn’t talk for months afterwards and he was devastated by it.  He shrugged lightly, but didn’t meet your eyes. “It’s alright. She’s doing better now.” There was a small silence.  “Why did you move back?”, you asked softly. He tilted his head slightly. “Mhm. I was living with my girlfriend. For about a year. We broke up in the spring and I moved into her apartment when we got together.” You felt a soft pang in your heart. As much as you wished for him to be happy, to have found love, it hurt a bit to hear that he actually did, while you were distracting yourself with work instead of tackling your feelings. “Oh. I’m sorry, Sunghoon.” “It’s fine. I am over her, she was nice but…it just… wasn’t working. I was always gone. And when I wasn’t, I wasn’t really there, you know?” He looked at you then, and you knew exactly what he meant. “We were both too tired to argue about it. It felt like a dejavu.” He chuckled softly at that and took a sip of his champagne. A beat passed. “And you? Any boyfriends in sight?”

You glanced toward where Ningning was showing off her engagement ring to Yujin, her hands gesturing animatedly. “Not really,” you said. “I thought about it. Dated here and there. But it’s hard when you fall asleep with your face on a chart at 2 a.m.” “That does sound romantic,” he said dryly. You grinned, a little ruefully. “I’m told I snore.” “I can confirm.” You laughed, eyes crinkling and slightly shoved him. “Hey! You snore way worse than I do.” Before he could say anything else, the lights dimmed slightly and Daewhi stepped back onto the small stage at the front of the room. “Alright everyone! Before the food comes out, we’d like to say a few words...” You both turned toward the front, Sunghoon’s arm brushing yours lightly as he shifted in his seat.  As the speeches started, you leaned in a little, voice low. “So… partner, huh? What are you working on currently?”

Sunghoon chuckled under his breath. “Right now? A cross-border IP case. A Korean company’s suing a European firm over design plagiarism, branding, packaging, whole lineup. My team’s handling compliance and preparing expert reports. It’s mostly just emails at 2 a.m. and arguing over clauses in licensing agreements.” You blinked. “That sounds miserable.” He shrugged with a half-smile. “It is. But weirdly satisfying. I kind of like picking apart their statements line by line, figuring out where they copied, what we can use." You tilted your head. “You always did like arguing.” “I prefer ‘debating.’ But yeah. The job’s a lot of drafting, negotiations, risk assessment. We do corporate governance stuff, too! Restructuring, audits, employee protection frameworks. Internal messes that execs don’t want to touch.” He smiled, lifting his glass. “And you?” You groaned. “Don’t even get me started.I honestly do too much in one day to summarize it all. Lots of rotation, many many crying babies and many many grandmas and grandpas that tell me I am doing my job wrong at 3 am when I just helped deliver their grandchild for like 4 hours.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You still don’t sleep much then?” “Not unless it’s at a nurse’s station in an empty hallway,” you said, trying to laugh. “But yeah… third year’s a step up. More decision-making, more pressure. I scrub in way more now. Still supervised, but I’m technically managing my own cases.” “Jesus.” He shook his head, then looked at you. “Also,” you added, leaning back a little, “I have become frighteningly good at drawing blood. I could probably even handle a crybaby like Jake.” Sunghoon gave a theatrical shudder. “Remind me to never pass out near you.” You grinned. “Too late. I already have a target vein.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “To poor life choices and me never fainting near you.”

You clinked it lightly. “And to knowing exactly what we signed up for.” “You know…” He ran a finger along the stem of his glass after setting it down again. “I still think it’s kind of insane, what you do.” You blinked at him, head tilting slightly. “What do you mean?” “I mean, yeah, my job’s intense. But I don’t have people’s lives in my hands. No one's bleeding out during a client pitch,” he said, his tone light but eyes sincere.  That caught you off guard. You opened your mouth, but he was already continuing. “And…” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing back at you. “I never got to say it, but, thank you. For what you did for Jay. And you helped with Haneul after.” Your fingers stilled on your napkin. “I just did my job.” “Maybe,” Sunghoon said quietly, “but it was important. To him. And to her.” You looked away for a moment, your throat tightening. “I still think about it sometimes. About whether I could’ve done more. Maybe she would have survived” “There wasn’t more to do,” he said, firm. “You know that." “I do,” you murmured. “But that doesn’t really make it easier.” Silence settled briefly between you. “Jay said you were really good at doing what you do,” Sunghoon added, his voice lower now. “And kind. That you didn’t panic.”

You huffed a small laugh. “That’s because I did the panicking in the locker room after.” He smiled faintly at that. “Still.” Sunghoon shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. “Wanna see pictures? Jay sends way too many, and I’m not strong enough to delete them.” You gave a small laugh and nodded. “Yeah. I’d love to.” He unlocked his phone, thumb moving swiftly through albums until he turned the screen toward you. “Here, this was last month. She dressed up as a tangerine for kindergarten.” You leaned in, your smile slowly growing. “Oh my god… she’s huge already. And her hair’s gotten so long." “Right?” He grinned, flicking to the next picture. “This one’s my favorite.”

You let out a soft laugh, one hand subconsciously lifting to your mouth. “Wow. She looks so much like her mom.”

Sunghoon’s smile faded just a little, more fond now. “Yeah.”

You were quiet for a second, watching his screen as he kept scrolling, birthday parties, park visits, messy dinner selfies. Her in a doctor costume, holding a stethoscope upside down.

“She’s really cute,” you said, smile tugging at your lips as Sunghoon tapped through another photo. “She looks like trouble.”

“She is,” Sunghoon said, clearly proud. “But only when she doesn’t get her strawberry milk.”

You gave a small laugh and leaned back a little.

You didn’t say much else, but something in your chest tightened. You were happy for them, you really were. For Jay. For Sunghoon. For this whole, messy, beautiful life they had grown into. You’d just forgotten how far away you’d placed yourself from it all. The waiter brought your drinks and before you even took a sip Sunghoon tsked next to you.

“No Coke Zero?” Sunghoon asked, tilting his head. “Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?”

Your rolled our eyes. “I had three cans this morning.”

“There she is.”

You scowled and hit hid foot under the table. “I had to stay awake. We had a five-hour surgery and the scrub nurse kept humming the same damn trot song.”

Sunghoon snorted into his drink. “Still addicted, I see.”

“You know what?” You raised a finger at him, fighting a smile. “If you mock my Coke Zero consumption one more time, I will curse you out.”

“Oh, have fun with that. I’ll probably enjoy it,” he said with mock gravity. “I’ve heard you curse. It’s like poetry. Angry, caffeine-fueled poetry.”

You leaned in, smiling sweetly. “Park Sunghoon.”

“Yes?”

“I hope your protein shaker leaks in your work bag.”

He gasped, hand to chest. “You take that back.”

“Never.”

“You’re still evil,” he muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

“And you’re still annoying,” you replied, sipping your water, resting, giving him your middle finger like you did when you were sixteen.

“I am actually not drinking too many protein shakes anymore. I’ve switched to actually eating  healthy and protein rich meals.”, he said, sounding almost proudly. 

Yunjin snickered from across the table. “Now you do. I clearly remember a time where the only thing you all ate was chicken, unseasoned chicken, and protein shakes.”

Jay groaned, slumping back in his chair. “Don’t remind me. I was protein-shaking my soul away for like six months straight.”

“Six months?” Jake snorted. “Heeseung tried to bulk for a year. He was eating boiled eggs between classes.”

Heeseung shrugged, totally unfazed. “And I looked great.”

“You also smelled like eggs,” Ningning added flatly, reaching for her water.

You were shaking your head, your head gesturing accusingly towards Sunghoon. “You were the worst of all of them. I swear to god, if you’d asked me to meal prep plain chicken breast one more time I would have used my anatomical knowledge for some illegal activities.”

He gave a sheepish grin. “I was trying to hit macros. And you yourself claimed to appreciate my biceps.”

“I still have nightmares about our air fryer,” you deadpanned. “There were weeks the entire apartment smelled like chicken and eggs.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Sunghoon said, nudging you gently with his elbow.

“I am not,” you insisted. “You once brought chicken breast to brunch with our parents cause you were afraid they wouldn’t prep anything with proteins in it.”

Sunghoon shrugged, unbothered. “Gains don’t rest.”

“You were unbearable,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed as you gave him a narrowed look.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink. “I was bulking.”

“You were insane,” you shot back. “Do you remember the protein powder in your coffee?”

“It tasted fine.”

“You mixed it with my expensive vanilla almond milk. And you made the entire kitchen smell like dirty socks.”

He grinned. “And yet you still ate my chicken.”

“Because I was too tired to cook my own, you menace”, you said flatly. 

You took a sip of your water, the conversation around you dissolving into background noise as Sunghoon leaned a little closer, resting one arm on the back of your chair again.

“I still don’t get how you survived my meal prep,” he said casually, eyes flicking to yours.

You gave him a look. “Oh, I didn’t survive. I suffered.”

He grinned. “That dramatic streak of yours hasn’t changed, huh?" “Park Sunghoon,” you warned, narrowing your eyes slightly, “I swear, if you say one more thing about me being dramatic, I will curse you out so thoroughly you’ll have flashbacks to every anatomy study session I ever made you suffer through.” “Oh, jeez please not. I don’t think I would survive that. You were so mean.” “I was under a lot of pressure!” you said, biting back a smile. “Do you know what it’s like to come home after a 28-hour shift just to find someone boiling chicken again at midnight?” He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. “I said I’d do the dishes.” “You never did the dishes.” “I did them… eventually.” “Exactly my point.” He just smiled at you, warm and unhurried.

You exhaled, tipping your head slightly toward him. “Do you still eat like that? Like are you still obsessing over your calories and everything.”

“Sometimes,” he said. “But my mom doesn’t curse me out if I stink up the kitchen.”

You hummed. “Tragic. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He smirked. “Ah you and your endless compassion.”

“Oh shut up,” you muttered, lips twitching. “I’m about to be compassionate all over your fancy suit.”

He laughed again, quieter this time, and nudged your knee under the table.

“Still so scary,” he murmured.

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Since the reunion, Sunghoon somehow slithered his way back into your life. You’ve seen him at least 3 times in the last month, which is more than the last three years. Probably due to the new outbound clinic you were transferred to being close to your parents house, which caused you, much to your parents delightment, to sleep at home. And considering Sunghoon is living just over the street, meeting him after work was somehow something that happened now. 

Today though, you were prepared. You were standing in the kitchen of the venue your and Sunghoons mother rented out to celebrate their birthdays, cutting up a watermelon into bitesize pieces. Your mothers turned 60 last week, yours on Tuesday and his on Thursday and decided to celebrate together, renting out a small hall and inviting a ton of people. Sunghoon was currently carrying boxes of wine to put into the kitchen's cooler. Both of your mothers roped you in to help out preparing the celebration and who were you to say no. 

“That’s the last one,” he said, breath short. “The cooler’s full now.”

You huffed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Good. We still need to plate the sandwiches, preslice the cake, move the drink station out front and deck the tables.”

He gave you a sidelong look. “Should we demand hourly payment for all of this?”

“We’re being paid in love, you dumbass.”

He chuckled, stepping around your dad and his, who were currently wrangling a caterer sized metal food warmer. It took both of them to maneuver it through the narrow doorway without crashing into the counter.

You leaned away instinctively to avoid the chaos, and Sunghoon did the same, which brought him just a bit closer to your side of the counter.

“Remind me why we agreed to this again?” he asked, settling beside you and propping one elbow against the metal surface.

“Because your mom is scary,” you muttered, fighting with the watermelon rind. “And because mine is lovely and we love helping her.”

“They could have asked our siblings to come earlier.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t act like you weren’t the one who volunteered to organize the drinks as if you didn't know it meant carrying twelve crates of wine.”

“I thought that was the easier job,” he said, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. “I didn’t want to get my hands dirty.”

Just as he said that a watermelon slice slipped in your hands, leaving a pink stain on your white shirt and arm, when you caught it out of reflex. You hissed and leaned over the sink to rinse off quickly.

“You know we have, like, an hour left for everything? Including changing, right?” Sunghoon said, tossing you a towel as you returned from the sink.

You caught it, half-heartedly drying your hands, looking at the watch hanging on the kitchen wall. “Fifty-five now.”

He groaned. “Perfect. I sweat like a pig carrying those wines inside. I still have to shower.”

You wrinkled your nose, pretending to lean closer. “You should. You kind of stink.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Such lovely compliments you give,” he deadpanned.

You grinned, just a little. A piece of your bun came loose and a strand of hair slipped forward again.

He reached out and brushed it gently behind your ear. His fingers warm against the skin on your cheek.

Sunghoon and you both froze.

His hand dropped the moment it registered what he’d done.

“Sorry–uh. Reflex,” he said quickly, stepping half a breath back.

You blinked, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, well… I guess I give great compliments.”

You cleared your throat before he could say anything else.

“Anyway,” you said, turning slightly so he couldn’t read your face. “Let’s just carry the rest of the stuff out so we can go shower. Whatever we don’t finish, someone else can do.”

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Before either of you could move toward the trays, the kitchen door swung open.

“Sunghoon,” his mother snapped, stepping inside with her arms crossed. “Why are you standing around while poor Y/N is doing everything? You were supposed to be helping, not loitering.”

You blinked, startled, still holding the towel.

“Oh, no, no,” you said quickly, straightening up and pasting on your best polite smile, you reserved for his mom specifically. “He was just about to carry the platter outside, Aunty. I was making sure he didn’t grab the wrong one.”

Sunghoon blinked at you, seemingly caught off guard for a second. His mom narrowed her eyes.

“Well, don’t dawdle,” she muttered, brushing past him to hover over the nearest table. “We still have to set the cakes out.”

Sunghoon mouthed thank you as he picked up the platter.

You just winked at him and turned back to your watermelon.

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You locked your front door with your clutch tucked under one arm, heels clicking against the pavement. The sun had just started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden wash over the quiet neighborhood. When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you saw Sungoon. 

He was walking a few feet ahead of you, dressed in a dark navy suit. One of his hands was smoothing his hair and while the other typed something on his phone. He seemed tense.

You cleared your throat loud enough to make him glance up.

He blinked in surprise, then gave you a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, look at that. Fancy seeing you here.”

You stepped toward him slowly, eyeing the suit. “You still wear suits every day?”

“Sure.”

“You’re rumpled,” you said, frowning. You reached forward, tugging at the slightly crooked collar with practiced fingers. “God, how do you wear a suit every day and still not know how to wear one properly?”

His breath caught just slightly as you straightened the fold, your knuckles brushing his jaw for a split second. 

“Your mom would eat you alive if she saw this,” you added, trying to justify why you were suddenly in his personal bubble.

“Thanks for the save. Again,” Sunghoon huffed. “Ever since I moved back, she’s been on my ass non-stop.”

Your brows shot up. “How long are you planning on staying here?”

“Just temporarily,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My lease ended and I figured I’d take a break from paying Seoul rent. Mistake.”, he huffed, “She’s like: ‘You should be saving. You should get married. You should eat more. You should work less. You should stop slouching.”

You laughed, full and unfiltered. “Your mom is so intense. No offense, but she’s kind of terrifying. Like, how did your sweet dad end up with her?”

He laughed. “Everyone wonders. I think he just blinked and thirty-five years passed.”

You both chuckled as your steps fell into sync.

“She was grilling me earlier,” you said. “Asked if I had any ‘good eggs left.’ I thought she meant for the deviled platter, but nope she meant my ovaries. She told my how my job is so hard and asked whether I plan to freeze my eggs, because she would love me to have some precious kids. I think it came from the right place, but it was still kinda weird.”

Sunghoon winced. “That sounds about right. She still talks about us sometimes. Complains that I let you go.”

You looked at him sideways. “Seriously?”

“She always liked you more than she liked me,” he muttered. “Back when we were together, she used to ask at least twice a week if we were thinking about marriage. Said we’d have ‘sturdy’ children.”

You burst out laughing. “Sturdy? What does that even mean?”

“I think she meant athletic? Or that you wouldn’t let them do the stuff we did as a kid. YOu know sturdy kids. Clever and not trouble maker kids? "I dont know.”

“I probably wouldn’t. We did a lot of shit when unsupervised,” you said, grinning. “But she really did ask you that?”

“Repeatedly. Said she knows if you had my kids, she could more or less flex with her beautiful and clever daughter in law and even prettier kids, since you bring your moms genetics.”

You snorted. “Oh my god. I don’t know if that’s horrifying or flattering.”

“Both,” he said. “Mostly horrifying.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m no longer your ticket to high-functioning offsprings.”

“Tragic,” he said, with a dry smile.

────────────────────────

You hadn’t even made it ten minutes into the party, standing near the table with the drinks, waiting for Sunghoon to finish pouring himself a glass of wine when one of your moms coworkers came up. You recognized her but couldn’t put a name to her face, she certainly has been kinda friends with your mother for a while.

“Oh, Y/N!” she beamed. “Your mom never mentioned you had a boyfriend and such a handsome one!”

You blinked. “Oh no. No, no, that’s not–he’s not my–”

“Sunghoon,” Sunghoon offered, stepping beside you with a polite smile, holding his glass of wine and your glass of juice. “Just a friend. My mom is the other one celebrating.”

“Ahhh,” the woman said, "I was so sure you were. You are in so many of those pictures together.”

You gave your best awkward laugh. “Yeah, I guess we’ve known each other forever.”

“Oh, I can tell,” she said, waving her wine glass toward the giant photo collage near the dessert table. “Look at that one,” She pointed at a photo from your family trip to Oahu. Your two moms beaming in flower leis, both of your dads awkwardly squinting into the sun… and in the middle, on a striped beach towel, were the two of you. You were in a sundress sitting sideways in Sunghoon’s lap, laughing at something he was whispering in your ear. His arms were loosely wrapped around your waist, while your hand rested comfortably on his knee.

"Yeah…” you said weakly, stomach dropping. “Those were… taken a while ago.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet. Just sipping his drink. You could feel the heat rising up your neck.

“We… used to date,” you offered, forcing a smile. “Our moms are best friends. So, you know…”

She nodded. “You don't have much choice to stay friendly with each other?”

You nodded mutely. Sunghoon gave a vague hum of agreement, and then someone called her name from across the room.

“It was nice talking to the two of you.”, she patted your shoulder, winked at Sunghoon, and wandered off.

You exhaled sharply.

Sunghoon tilted his head toward you. “You good?”

You nodded, eyes flicking toward the photo wall. “Yeah. Why did they have to choose that picture.”

He smiled faintly. “Because my mom is still hoping you freeze your eggs so I can give you some sturdy kids someday.”

You bumped his elbow. “Shut up.”────────────────────────

You were lying in your bed, your blanket pulled up to your chin, one arm shielding your eyes from the light bleeding through your half closed blinds. Everything was either too bright or too loud. And the cats kept taking turns climbing onto your chest or pawing at your face in demand of affection.

It was almost 1 a.m. and you were acutely aware that in just under four hours, your alarm would go off. You really, really needed to sleep.

But you hadn’t been able to, not properly, for a few nights now.

Ever since that dinner a few months ago, the old Kakao group chat had burst back to life. The others were texting and sending pictures what felt like nonstop. For a few weeks now they were talking about going on a trip in the mountains in the South, to relax and just hang out with each other again before the winter started. They were thinking about renting out a house with enough rooms for everyone and their partners. It sounded... really nice, if you were being honest.

But you weren’t sure.

You didn’t know if you could get the time off. You were still in residency, and vacation days weren’t exactly handed out like candy. And at that point you should probably be studying for your board certification like a maniac. 

Eventually, you gave up. Tossing your blanket aside, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and shuffled out of your room. You were somehow too tired to sleep and too restless to stay still.

The apartment was dark, the only light coming from the kitchen. You padded in barefoot and found Jaemin hunched over the microwave, heating up leftover curry. He was still wearing his scrubs and his hair was a mess.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him. Then, without a word, you stepped forward and dropped your forehead onto his back.

“Jesus,” he jolted slightly, startled. “You scared me.”

You didn’t say anything, just stayed there, your face pressed between his shoulder blades. He let out a breath, softening immediately.

“Long day?” he asked, turning around and opening his arms automatically.

You nodded and stepped into the hug, arms wrapping around his middle. He smelled faintly like antiseptic.

He held you for a moment, rubbing a slow hand up and down your back. “You’re warm,” he mumbled. 

You nodded into his shirt. 

“Can’t sleep again?” he asked after a beat, his voice gentle now. 

You pulled back slightly but didn’t let go. “My friends from school are planning. In October.”

Jaemin leaned back just enough to look at your face. “That sounds fun.”

“It does,” you admitted. “But I don’t know if I can get the time off. And even if I do... I should probably be studying.”

“You’ve been studying since July,” he said, deadpan. 

You sighed. “I just… don’t know if I can justify it.”

He gave you a look.

“Take your books with you. Study there. Wake up early and do your flashcards while everyone else is making pancakes or whatever. I am sure no one would be mad if you did a bit of revising.”

You pressed your forehead against his collarbone again, muttering, “I’ll think about it.”

He smiled into your hair. “You always say that.”

“Because I always do,” you mumbled.

The microwave beeped, and the smell of curry wafted up between you. He reached behind you blindly to open it, still holding you with one arm.

“I’ll warm you some up too,” he said, already grabbing a second bowl.

You just hummed and just closed your eyes not moving from where your arms were wrapped around his torso. He set the curry down on the counter with one hand and petted your hair softly with the other one.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you were so excited when you came back from the reunion. You kept talking about how good it was to see them again, how you missed this version of yourself. How you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you were sitting next to them.”

You blinked, but stayed silent.

“So don’t pretend like you don’t want to go,” he added, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You do. You just feel guilty about it.”

Your silence must’ve been answer enough, because Jaemin gently pushed you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes properly.

“You’re allowed to miss people,” he said, softer now. “And you’re allowed to want something that isn’t hospital walls and emergency pages and OB rounds at 3 a.m. You can take your books. You can wake up early and study. Hell, you’ll probably shame everyone into feeling productive.”

That earned a small, reluctant laugh from you.

“But you can also sit on a porch with your friends and a cup of tea and just be for a few days,” he said. “You’re burning yourself out againat this rate, Y/N. You deserve a break.”

You looked down, chewing on your bottom lip. The idea of a break sounded so nice it almost hurt.

He tilted his head and gave you a knowing smile. “And don't pretend like you're not already halfway convinced. You wouldn’t be standing here with your head on my spine at 1 a.m. if you weren’t.”

“Traitor,” you muttered.

He grinned. “Guilty.”

You huffed, then finally gave a slow nod. 

Jaemin slid a bowl across the counter toward you and sat down beside you, spoon clinking lazily in his curry.

“I mean,” he said between bites, “if I play my cards right, pull a few strings here and there… maybe sweet-talk your boss…”

You snorted. “You’ve never even met my boss.”

“I’ve seen him once. He looks like the type who caves when someone brings good snacks and compliments his hairline.”

You gave him a look. “He’s bald.”

“Exactly. Low bar.”

You rolled your eyes, but the edge of your lips tugged upward despite yourself.

Jaemin shrugged. “Just use like… two vacation days. Plan your night shift compensation properly. Worst case, you stack five NICU shifts and hate yourself for a week?”

“But wouldn’t I hate myself during the trip then? You know, the week after five NICU shifts?”, you asked, blowing the curry on your spoon, to cool it down slightly. 

He grinned into his food. “When don’t you hate yourself tho? I’m just saying: go. Take the trip. Drag your flashcards along, torture everyone with study sessions if you must. But don’t skip it. You’ll regret it.”

He was right. You would regret it. You would regret missing out again. But you couldn’t let that be a distraction. You didn’t look up, but your voice came out a little smaller. “What if I get behind?”

“You’re already ahead. You’re always ahead. For God's sake I haven't even bought the books I’ll need Y/N. You started two months ago. And you still have 7 to go.”

There was a long pause.

Then you murmured, “Okay. I’ll ask.”

Jaemin smiled, finishing his last bite. “Good girl.”

You lifted your head just to smack his arm with your spoon.

He winced dramatically. “Are you assaulting your emotional support roommate? Unbelievable.”

“Three cats are my emotional support. You just do the dishes.”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then let me earn my keep and make sure you don’t work yourself into an early grave.”

────────────────────────

You were taking your time walking home from work a few weeks later. You were stationed at an outbound clinic near your parents house this week again. Half of that clinic's staff was sick with Covid and the hospital stationed some of their residents there. So you decided to stay over at your parents house, sleeping in your old room and helping your mom babysit your niece for the weekend. You'd been spoiled with warm dinners and unsolicited affection all week as well. Honestly, you weren’t complaining.

You were walking slowly, enjoying the last beams of sunshine when you noticed Sunghoon walking past you. His jacket was slung over his arm and he was typing furiously on his phone. 

You accelerated your speed, stepping in sync next to him: “Sir, do you perhaps live in this neighborhood? I'm in dire need of directions, I might be a bit lost here.”

He flinched and his head snapped into your direction. 

“Jesus, you just scared the shit out of me, Y/N.”, he said, breathless, holding his phone against his chest. 

“Sorry Sunghoon,” you laughed and padded his shoulder. 

“I am afraid I can't offer you directions though. I might be equally lost right now. It seems like we are in dire need of a guide, that guides us towards a certain gs25 to buy some ice cream, perhaps?" he said, raising his shoulders in faux confusion. 

“Oh! I think I saw a particular gs25 on my way here, but I am afraid I really want to get home! It appears like my niece has been brought to my mothers and I really want to cuddle my very adorable niece, perhaps an ice to go?”, you nodded and walked backwards up the hill. 

“That’s a noble excuse,” he said, adjusting his bag and shifting his jacket to the other arm. “But would you accept delivery instead? My mom’s in a bad mood today and if I stay home any longer I might spontaneously combust.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I suppose if you’re fleeing maternal wrath, I can offer sanctuary. My mom will probably force-feed you soup the second you walk through the door.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said, grinning as he fell into step beside you.

────────────────────────

The second you stepped through the door, your mom peeked around the corner from the kitchen, eyes lighting up.

“Y/N-ah! Oh, you brought a surprise with you!” she said, hands still dusted with flour. “How lovely!”

You sighed dramatically, kicking off your shoes. “I found Sunghoon on the street and had to rescue him.”

Your mom tutted but looked pleased. “Come in, come in. Look at you! So skinny! You need to eat something.”

She reached up without warning and patted his cheek affectionately, like she used to when you were teenagers. Sunghoon just blinked and let it happen, offering a half-bow and a sheepish smile.

“Hi, Aunty. Sorry to show up uninvited.”

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here,” she said, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Sit, sit! I just made some jeon. Do you still like that?”

"Sure, Aunty!", Sunghoon said and took off his shoes.

You followed her into the kitchen. “Is Gaeun awake?”

Your dad’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Fell asleep about an hour ago. She’s still out cold.”

You groaned, deflating and turning back to walk to the living room, where she usually slept and played when she was over. “Ugh. I wanted to shower her with kisses. Telepathically tho. I am not about to get her sick.”

Sunghoon followed you. “Didn’t spend enough time with babies today?”

You shot him a look. “Not the cuddly kind.”

He raised a brow as you crossed to the blanket pile on the couch and gently peeked in at the sleeping baby. “Weren’t you at the clinic today?”

“Outbound rotation,” you said. “Lots of prenatal consults. It’s mostly OB-GYN. So yeah technically babies but unborn babies.”

“Ah,” he said. “Makes sense.”

You knelt beside Gaeun and ran your fingers softly through her hair. “She’s my one and only baby though.”

Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Do you have another niece I missed out on?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Just Gaeun. Which is why she’s getting spoiled for life. Everything she wants she will get from her cool aunt Y/Nie.”

“She’s lucky.”

Gaeun shifted in her sleep, one chubby fist curled near her cheek.

“She’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, doing your best to not wake her up.

Sunghoon crouched beside you, resting his arms on his knees. “You say that every time you see a baby or a dog.”

“Because it’s true every time,” you said, gently pulling her blanket up. “Look at her cheeks. I want to bite them. Is that weird?”

“A little.”

You gave him a side-eye. “She smells so good as well. I would die for her.”

He laughed under his breath. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m in love, Sunghoon. You wouldn’t understand.”

He just shook his head, smiling. “You’re completely gone.”

“She’s going to grow up thinking I’m the cool aunt who brings stickers and inappropriate snacks and teaches her to lie about bedtime.”

“Which… would be accurate.”

“Exactly.”

You watched her for another long beat, her tiny chest rising and falling steadily.

“She’s going to be such a menace,” you whispered fondly.

Sunghoon’s voice was quieter now. “With you as her guide? No doubt.”

"Hey I am not that bad of an influence," you protested, brushing one finger over the babies soft cheek. 

"Yeah. Jake and I totally didn't have to cover for you whenever you did something stupid at school. You were always a lawful student," Sunghoon chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed. "Looser. At least I had fun." 

From the kitchen, the smell of jeon drifted in, followed by your mom’s distant voice calling your name.

You sighed, standing up and stretching. “Alright. Let’s go eat before she decides we’re both too skinny and starts force-feeding us.”

Sunghoon followed you out of the room, glancing once more at the sleeping toddler. 

────────────────────────

The four of you sat around the small kitchen table, your dad pouring more makgeolli into his cup, while your mom fussed over whether Sunghoon had eaten enough rice. The overhead light cast a golden hue over everything. 

“So, Sunghoon,” your dad began, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Are you still working yourself to death?”

Sunghoon let out a small laugh. “Trying not to. But yeah, it’s still busy.”

“Busy is good,” your mom chimed in, but she gave him a narrow look. “But are you eating? Sleeping? The two of you never did when you moved out and were left to your own devices.”

“Mom,” you groaned.

“Don't tell me I am wrong. And now look at the two of you. So skinny and overworked. You should eat another serving Sunghoon, you have to stay strong.”

“I go to the gym 4 days a week, Aunty. I am strong," Sunghoon said, deadpan.

Your parents started grilling him with questions you were pretty sure they already knew the answers to. It was coming from a good place and very lighthearted though. After all, Sunghoon had practically grown up in this kitchen so it was a given they wanted to hear from the man himself where he was now in life. You couldn’t count how many times he’d skipped out on dinners at his own house to crash yours instead.

He answered patiently, a bit sheepish but not uncomfortable. You could tell he didn’t mind it, really. Not here.

By the time your dad had moved on from work questions to retelling the same story about your high school prank war for the third time, Sunghoon had finally settled deeper into his seat.

His sleeves were rumpled now. He’d unfastened the top button of his shirt at some point and rolled his shoulders back, laughing at something your mom had said about his childhood appetite. The tight line at the edge of his jaw had softened. His posture was less perfect. He looked younger.

You couldn’t stop watching him.

It wasn’t intentional, you weren’t even sure what had pulled your gaze back to him in the first place. You couldn’t stop thinking how familiar it all felt.

How natural it still was to have him here.

Like nothing had changed at all in the last ten years.

And maybe, in some ways, nothing had. Your parents still looked at him like he was the son they never had. Your mom still offered him second servings before anyone else. He still used the honorifics around your dad even though he’d been told not to twenty years ago. He still looked like the same boy who had come over three or four nights a week in high school, when his own house, despite being spotless and felt… cold. Unforgiving.

Sunghoon had always been the golden boy: top grades, varsity athlete, polite to a fault. Your teachers loved him, which was why he was able to get you and Jake out of sticky situations almost easily back when you were in highschool. He was admired by everyone. You couldn't remember a single person that didn't like him. But at home, he had never been enough.

You’d seen it yourself, how tense he got when his mother called. How he flinched slightly at praise, like it was a test he had to pass again. How he learned to be charming because being himself was never quite the right answer. You hated his mother for doing that.

He could’ve brought home the moon and his mom still would’ve asked why it had craters.

And yet your mom loved him the second you brought him home at age 5. She gave him as much food as he wanted, gave him all the attention he needed, and came to every skating event, even if his parents couldn’t make the time. She somehow managed to get off work, every time, sitting in the bleachers of those ice rinks cheering for SUnghoon together with you. She had treated him like a teenage boy deserved to be treated: not perfectly, just kindly.

He was laughing at something your dad said, his hands working though the perfectly styled hair, messing it up in the progress.

That was the version of him you fell in love with so many years back.

Not the one in suits. Not the one fielding client calls at eleven. Not the one sitting in meeting rooms with the weight of a multi-million euro deal in his jaw.

But this Sunghoon.

The one who grinned with his whole face. Who passed side dishes to your dad before being asked. Who muttered sarcastic little asides only you would catch. The one who used to steal bites from your plate and fall asleep on the living room floor with his head resting against your knee.

The version of him you thought you knew forever. The version you thought you would always have.

You were different now too, older, sharper. Always tried and always rushing. Every time you saw him now, which was admittedly only 7 or 8 times over the last months, he seemed stressed and tired. 

Sunghoon looked over, just briefly, catching your eye mid-laugh.

“What?” he asked, mouth still curled into a smile.

You blinked, startled. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m digesting.”

He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, but let it go.

You glanced down at your plate, heart suddenly too full and too tired at once.

So much had changed.

And yet sitting here, in your moms kitchen, her ugly table cloth spread under your dishes and you wondered if maybe not everything had.

Just then a sharp wail echoed from the living room.

You were already halfway out of your chair. “It’s okay, I got her–”

“Y/N, sit–” your mom began, but you were already waving her off.

“I got her,” you said again, grinning as you darted out of the kitchen. “My favorite niece is calling for me!”

Sunghoon chuckled as you practically sprinted down the hallway.

In the living room, Gaeun’s face was red and scrunched, tiny fists balled up near her cheeks, her cry high-pitched and frantic.

You knelt beside her, scooping her up in one smooth motion, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you whispered, rocking her gently as you reached for the bottle your mom had prepped earlier. “You’re hungry, huh?”

She latched on instantly, her cries quieting between gulps.

You sat down with her in your lap, humming softly under your breath as she fed, your hand gently stroking her soft hair.

From the hallway, Sunghoon leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, watching quietly.

“Impressive diagnosis, Dr. Auntie,” he said softly.

You turned to look at him, bouncing Gaeun gently. “Years of clinical experience. And also I just… really love her.”

He tilted his head slightly, watching you cradle the tiny baby. “I can tell.”

You smirked. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I’m not,” he said, but his voice had gone quieter. Softer. “You’re just… good at this.”

You glanced down at Gaeun, who had started to calm a little, blinking up at you with watery eyes.

Sunghoon didn’t speak for a moment, he came over and lowered himself onto the sofa next to you. When he did speak again, his voice was softer than before. “You’ve always loved kids.”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Still do.”

He nodded slowly. Then, without looking at you: “You used to say you wanted three.”

You laughed under your breath. “I did. I also said I wanted a dog that talks and a husband who bakes soufflés.”

He smiled at that but didn’t respond.

After a moment, you added, quieter: “I don’t know. The older I get, the more it feels… unreachable. Like even if I wanted a kid right now, I couldn’t.​ I’ve spent so long working toward this career… I’m just now getting to the part where all of it might pay off.” You took a breath. “Having a baby would derail everything.”

“That’s so sad,” he said quietly. “You always wanted this.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just rocked the baby gently and let the silence stretch between you.

After a few beats you glanced at him sideways. “How was your day?”

He groaned lightly and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Oh, you know. Same circus, different set of clowns.”

You raised a brow. “That bad?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Not even surprising anymore. I spent my whole morning fixing a report someone else screwed up, then got blamed for responding ‘too bluntly’ in an email. And someone scheduled a meeting over lunch. Again.”

“That’s cruel.”

“It should be illegal,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t mind the job. Honestly, I like it. I worked my ass off to get here. It’s just…some of these people make me question humanity.”

You laughed. “That bad, huh?”

He turned to you with a dry smile. “If natural selection applied to PowerPoint formatting, I’d have peace.”

You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I wrong though?”

You shook your head, a little smile playing on your lips. “No. Just dramatic.”

His tone softened then. “But really... I’m lucky. I know that. I’ve got a solid team, good salary, stability. I just wish I didn’t have to babysit full-grown adults while pretending to care about their feelings.”

You nodded slowly, gaze dropping to the baby in your lap. “Sounds exhausting.”

“It is. But…” he paused, voice dipping into something more honest. “You kinda just accept it. Like, this is what it looks like. Being a grown-up.”

You were quiet for a second.

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You both sat in silence for a bit, the baby sleeping peacefully in your arms now. 

“You know,” Sunghoon said after a long moment, still gazing at the crib, “your mom… she really did take me in like a son.”

You turned to look at him.

“I don’t think I ever said it out loud, but I’m so grateful for her. And for your dad too. They’re such–” He paused, trying to find the right word. “They’re just… really good people.”

Your heart tightened a little. He wasn’t the kind of person to say things like that unless he truly meant them.

A beat passed before he added, more quietly, “And you… you’re turning out just like them, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but before you could respond, your mom’s voice came from the hallway.

“Sunghoon-ah, my son,” she called warmly, stepping into the room in her worn slippers and a floral apron still tied around her waist. “I’m heading to bed. You should go home too, it’s getting late, you look tired.”

Sunghoon stood, his posture straightening instinctively. “Yes, of course. Thank you for having me.”

She waved him off, already moving to turn off lights and tidy a stray cushion. “Oh, don’t you worry about that! Come over more often, please, even if Y/N isn’t here.”

She paused in the doorway, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re getting too skinny again. Tell your mother to feed you properly.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll let her know.”

With a soft goodnight, your mom disappeared down the hallway, the floor creaking familiarly under her steps.

The room was quiet again, save for Gaeun’s slow breathing.

Sunghoon turned to you, his smile lopsided, softer than before. “Guess I better go before she packs me leftovers for the whole week.”

You grinned, standing to walk him to the door. “You know she probably already did.”

At the door, he slipped on his shoes and turned back toward you.

“Thanks for letting me crash dinner.”

“No worries,” you said, leaning against the frame. “You apparently needed it.”

He nodded, then paused, as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t.

Instead, he gave you a little wave. “Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Sunghoon.”

The door closed with a quiet click.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway.

You looked down at Gaeun, now snuggled against your chest, fast asleep. Her tiny breaths warmed the fabric of your shirt.

After a few minutes, you brought her into your childhood room, gently lowering her into the crib your mom had set up earlier. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake.

You stood there for a moment, just watching her, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the little sigh she gave as her fingers curled near her cheek.

Then, slowly, you turned and climbed into bed.

The ceiling hadn’t changed. Neither had the faint sound of cicadas outside the window or the way the floor creaked when someone walked down the hallway.

But you had.

And lying there, in the same room you used to stay up in texting Sunghoon under the covers, you felt the quiet ache of time slipping past.

So many things had changed.

And yet tonight, for just a few moments, it had felt like nothing had.

You turned onto your side, pulling the blanket up over your shoulder, your gaze drifting toward the crib in the corner.

“Night, Gaeun,” you whispered

────────────────────────

You were sniffling slightly when you stepped into your apartment two months later. It was quiet except for the soft clicking of claws on the hardwood floor when Luna wandered to the door to greet you. Her fur was soft against your hand, when you squatted down to pet her. “Hi love.”,you whispered and nudged her head against your palms, purring loudly. You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath before standing up again. You dropped your bag in the door, only taking out your water bottle and empty bento box. The hallway mirror catched your attention when you looked up again. Your eyes were puffy, skin pale, your once neat braid now slipping out of its tie and clinging to the back of your neck.

Jaemin was right, you did get 4 days off, but you did hate yourself a bit. Five nightshifts in a row was almost as bad as it got, but you got to spend your time in the NICU so it was even worse. You were used to the intensity of the NICU, as it was one of the stations you worked most frequently, but today had just been a horrible shift. You lost two babies. Both were premature and it was almost clear from the start that their tiny bodies were too weak to fight for long. You had been the one to talk with the parents. 

You hated that part most. Hated the way their faces crumbled when they realized what you were about to say, how it somehow had gotten to be so normal for you that the words weren’t stuck in your throat anymore, how you now had enough experience with grieving families to stay professional.  

Your stomach growled loudly and you groaned because you knew you wouldn’t have time to eat anything. Jay would be here in less than thirty minutes and you still had to shower and finish up packing the rest of your clothing. You figured you could ask him to stop at a rest area on the way and get something to eat and a coffee there. Afterall, the others wanted to hike today so kaffeein sounded reasonable to keep you awake. 

You rolled your shoulders back and padded to the bathroom. Setting the water to the coldest temperature you could bear, you quickly washed off the hospital. You didn’t even bother applying makeup or properly styling your hair, only blowdrying it. You said yes to this trip because everyone kept telling you it would be good for you. A break. A reset. But right now, standing barefoot and with wet hair in your bedroom, the idea of spending four days around people felt more overwhelming than comforting and refreshing.

You got dressed anyway. Jay would be there soon, and he was punctual to a fault, even at 7:30 am.

You pulled on a random hoodie that was draped over your chair and sank down on your bed for a second. The hoodie still faintly smelled like Kai, who had borrowed it to you after you forgot to bring a jacket to the library and he had insisted you wear it on your way home to avoid getting sick. You really should text him again. 

For a second you thought about calling your mom, telling her how or anyone you were just tired and wanted to sleep, how you wanted to come home to her having cooked lunch, how you just wanted to spend time with her but it was early and she always rushed through morning phone calls with too many things on her plate. Your dad would probably be mid-surgery prep, he was the one who understood you the best at the moment, having gone through this exact process already. Yunjin would understand, or pretend to, but you’d see her in a few hours. You didn’t want to drop all of this on her before the trip even started. 

And Jaemin had been running on empty lately too. He and Jeno were going through a rough patch at the moment, with Jaemin spending his time working or studying, just like you were. It was hard for other people to understand, the constant pressure to be working perfectly and Jeno wanted to get at least a bit of his boyfriend's attention and time, which Jaemin just couldn’t offer right now. 

At least the cats were here.

Lucy had followed you from the bathroom. The second you laid back, she jumped onto the bed and curled up beside your hip like a small, warm stone. The other two weren’t far behind, hopping onto the foot of the bed and stretching out without a care in the world.

You reached out and gently scratched behind Luks ears. The silence of the apartment settled around you, soft and heavy. You closed your eyes for a second, trying not to think about the hospital or the certification. Just anything else. 

You stayed there, curled up with your cats, waiting for your body to gather just enough energy to stand again. You still had to pack. Jay would be here soon. You’d feel better once you hit the road and were under people again. Being alone never did you any good. 

A few minutes after you finished packing the rest of your clothing and fed the cats. You grabbed a mask and a cap, anything to make your puffy face feel a little less exposed, slung your laptop bag over one shoulder and wheeled your small suitcase out the door. 

The elevator was empty on your way down. 

Jay’s car pulled up a few minutes later. You straightened a little as he stepped out, smiling that big, comforting Jay-smile that hadn't changed since high school. His girlfriend was in the passenger seat, stretching backwards to hand Haneul, who was sitting in a booster seat, a piece of apple. Sunghoon sat next to her in the middle seat. He waved at you and you plastered on a tired smile. 

“Hey,” Jay said as he popped the trunk. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, lifting your suitcase in before he could. “I came straight from the hospital.”

He blinked. “You serious?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Did you work a night shift?”, he asked while closing the trunk door. 

“Man, I worked five nightshifts in a row for this trip. Just to see all of you losers.”, you joked as you followed him around the car, sliding into the seat next to Sunghoon. Before you could greet any of the others Haneul screeched: “Kitty!”

“Kitty?”, you said, blinking at her and then Sunghoon, who was looking at the toddler with an equally confused face.

“Kitty!”, she just said again and pointed at you. 

“Oh.”, Sunghoon laughed lowly, “On your hoodie.” He gestured to the two cats that were printed on the front of your hoodie. “She really loves cats.”

“Oh.”, you said and smiled at the child, “Yeah kitties, you’re right Haneul.” 

Sunghoons whole side was pressed into yours in the tight space of the backseat of the car. 

“Good morning Y/N,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you answered just as softly as you adjusted your bag in your lap. 

“Y/N, this is Seol,” Jay’s girlfriend turned around from the front, a warm smile on her face. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said quickly. 

“Yeah! It’s so nice to finally meet you as well! I’ve been told a lot about you by the rest.”, she said and laughed gently.

“Only good stuff I hope!”, you nudged Sunghoons shoulder with yours. 

“Nah I exclusively told her about how you are an awful cook and are obsessive about cleaning and hate chicken.”, he shrugged and smirked. 

“Okay Seol. Those are lies and he is exaggerating. I can cook decently and he is just as obsessive with cleanliness!", you exclaimed and punched him this time. 

Everyone laughed and Jay threaded the car into the morning traffic. 

“Is it okay with you if I sleep a bit? I just came from a nightshift and I am really tired.”, you asked shyly after a while. 

“Oh no no. Just sleep, we will wake you when we are there.”, Jay said and lowered the volume of the radio, which was currently playing kids songs. 

“Okay, thank you,” you nodded and rested your head against the cold window. 

────────────────────────

You stirred as the car slowed to a stop, the rumble of the tires on gravel pulling you halfway out of sleep. A moment later, a hand brushed your shoulder and gently nudged you awake. You blinked one eye open.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon said softly. “We’re at a rest stop. Do you wanna stretch, pee, get something to eat?”

You squinted at him, brain lagging behind. “Mhm,” you mumbled, not even sure what you were agreeing to.

He huffed a quiet laugh, and the sound made you smile for a split second before your eyelids slid shut again.

“I’ll get you something,” he said under his breath, already maneuvering himself out of the car. You caught a glimpse of him awkwardly twisting his long legs past Haneul’s booster seat on the other side before the door shut with a thud.

The warmth of his body left with him.

You must’ve dozed off again, because the next thing you knew, the door creaked open, cool air slipping inside. Then something cool and plastic pressed lightly against your arm.

“Hey.” His voice was closer this time. “Here.”

You blinked up at him, disoriented. Sunghoon was standing just outside the car, holding out a plastic container and a bottle of water. His hair was a little messy from the wind, his sleeves pushed up.

“Will you let me in? I really don’t feel like climbing over Haneuls seat again”, he said, shaking his head. 

You groaned. “Ugh. Yeah. Gimme a sec.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and made your way outside of the car, taking the bowls and the bottles Sunghoon was holding. He climbed in and waited for you to hand him your breakfast back before returning to your original position. 

He handed over the lower plastic container. The lid was already cracked open slightly. It was an acai bowl. The same one you used to get back in med school when you had early study mornings. He bought them every time he went grocery shopping, picking out the bananas for you, because he knew you didn’t like them. You glanced down. No banana slices, not a single one. His bowl had what looked like an excessive amount of bananas inside.

You didn’t say anything. Just swallowed quietly and dug the spoon in.

The car started rolling again, Jay humming along to some pop song on the radio, and Haneul giggled as Sunghoon tried to open her triangle gimbap without tearing the nori apart. You ate slowly. The fruit was tart and cold, the granola soft but still sweet. It settled your stomach a little. When you were done, you capped the empty container and leaned forward, slipping it down onto the floor near your feet. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, eyes half-lidded again.

Sunghoon gave a small hum of acknowledgment, still focused on cleaning sticky rice off Haneul’s fingers with a napkin.

You let your head fall back against the seat, eyes drifting shut again. You didn’t notice when your head tilted to the side, bumping softly against the firm line of Sunghoon’s shoulder.

────────────────────────

“Y/N,” a voice said softly near your ear. “We’re here.”

You blinked awake, your vision was slow to adjust as you realized your head was resting on something warm.

Oh no.

You jerked upright, barely catching yourself with your hand against the door. Sunghoon’s shoulder was right there, where your cheek had been. Heat rose fast in your chest and flushed up your neck.

“I- ” you stammered, brushing hair out of your face, “sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He just laughed quietly, unclipping his seatbelt. “You were dead asleep. It’s fine.”

“But I-seriously, I didn’t realize I-”

“Y/N.” He looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Shut up and get out. We both know you needed the sleep and I was not about to wake you because you used me as a pillow. ” He slid out of the seat with practiced grace and stretched his arms out. “I would have if you drooled on me tho.”

You nodded, flustered and still not fully awake, but you managed a muttered, “Right. Okay. Thanks.”

Outside, the mountain air was noticeably cooler than the air in Seoul. The morning fog hadn’t lifted completely yet, and the gravel crunched as you all moved toward the house you rented. Haneul was skipping ahead to Seol, her tiny backpack bouncing with every step.

The house was bigger than you expected. It was a two-level cabin-style place with warm wooden siding and wide windows. 

The house had enough rooms for each couple…and one for you and Sunghoon. Yunjin and Ningning both offered to room with you while Sunghoon slept in their room with Heeseung or Taesung. You declined, not wanting them to be forced to sleep in a room with you when they could be spending time with their partners just because you might feel a bit awkward. For the record you were feeling a bit awkward but this was also the ninth or tenth time you saw Sunghoon after breaking up. But not awkward enough to switch rooms, that's for sure. 

You followed, a step behind Jay and Sunghoon, your own suitcase rolling quietly over the gravel. At the base of the staircase, Sunghoon paused again and turned halfway to you. His voice was lower this time, not as even. “Um. You want me to carry yours up?”

You blinked. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

He nodded once and started up the stairs with your suitcase anyway, the quiet creaking under his steps the only sound for a moment. The hallway upstairs was lined with doors, the floorboards creaking softly under your steps. Sunghoon led the way, peeking into rooms, mumbling under his breath about finding the one with two beds. When he finally found it at the end of the hall, he stepped aside so you could see inside.

"Looks like this is us," he said, nudging the door open.

Two single beds, pushed against opposite walls, faced each other. A shared dresser stood between them, and soft afternoon light filtered in through gauzy curtains. You stepped in and dropped your backpack on the closest bed with a sigh.

“Man,” you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and letting yourself fall face-first into the mattress, “I’m so tired I might actually cry.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle behind you, the familiar sound making your shoulders unclench just a little.

“Then sleep,” he said, dropping your suitcase beside the dresser and his own against the far wall. “No one’s gonna judge. We’ve all been in the car for hours, and you came straight from work.”

You rolled onto your back with a groan, one arm over your eyes. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just power through.”

“Y/N,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. “Sleep. I am not dealing with a grumpy you just because you want to prove a point.”

You cracked one eye open and squinted at him. “I’m not grumpy.”

He gave you a look. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

You huffed and repeated yourself. “I’m not grumpy.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Right. You’re worse than a toddler.”

Your jaw dropped. “Liar.”

“I’ve dealt with an actual toddler. Extensively. Believe me. I know the signs.”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his head. “You absolute menace.”

He caught it midair, smug as ever. “I lived with you for almost seven years. You were sleep-deprived for at least four of them.”

“Exactly, and I was very pleasant.”

“You were a hazard.”

You squinted at him. “Say that again and I’ll smother you with your pillow tonight.”

He just laughed, tossing the pillow back at the foot of your bed. “If you don’t sleep, I swear I’ll lock you in this room and take your phone and laptop with me.”

You stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

He raised a brow. You narrowed your eyes. Then flopped back down dramatically with a heavy sigh. “Fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”

You rolled onto your side, hugging the pillow. “Maybe I was a toddler. But you still loved me.”

There was a pause. 

“Shut up and sleep.”, he threw the pillow back at you and it hit your back with a dull thud. 

You smiled into the blanket, smug despite the exhaustion. “That’s what I thought.”

“Seriously, Y/N. If you don’t pass out in the next five minutes, I’m calling your attending and request sedation.”

But you didn’t argue further. You curled up properly, pulling the blanket over your shoulder and tucking your legs in. The bed was soft and smelled faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. The last thing you registered before sleep pulled you under was the quiet creak of the door as Sunghoon stepped back out. ──────────────────────── You had no idea how much time had passed when you felt the full weight of another person slam onto you. “Wakey wakey sleeping beauty.”, Jake whispered in your ear. “Jake,” you groaned, voice muffled into the pillow. “Get off me.” “I missed you too,” he said cheerfully, wiggling around on top of the blanket and fully ignoring your attempt to shove him off. “Congrats, you’ve been selected for a special mission.” “What,” you grunted, “the hell are you talking about?” “Grocery run,” he said, as if this was the most exciting thing ever. “You, me, and our favorite law nerd.” You pried your eyes open. “Jake. Move your fat ass.” “No can do,” he sang, “not until you confirm your participation.” You growled something unintelligible and tried to sit up anyway, managing to half-shove him off as you groggily blinked around the room. It was brighter now, early afternoon, probably. You felt puffy-eyed, warm, and absolutely not ready to deal with Sunghoon or Jake or any decision-making. Still, you sighed, stretched, and got up. “We were picked in a fair game of rok paper and scissors and Yunjin lost for you. So we’re going to emart.”, Jake grinned and watched how you tried to shake yourself awake. “Fine. Whatever.”

Jake grinned and clapped like a seal. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

────────────────────────

The glass doors slid open with a cheerful chime, and you immediately veered off to grab a shopping cart.

"Okay, let’s be efficient and quick," you began, only to slow down as you reached the ramen aisle. "Actually… should we grab some for Heeseung?"

Jake perked up immediately. “Oh yeah, let’s goooo.”

Sunghoon groaned behind you. “God, not again. This is gonna be just like that trip to Sokcho, isn’t it? Where you and Heeseung lived off Shin Ramyeon and triangle kimbap for three straight days?”

Jake grinned. “Those were elite meals.”

You snorted, grabbing a couple packs. “You two are actual menaces. There’s a toddler on this trip now. No one’s living off processed soup. I will feed her and anyone else who might want to participate healthy and nutritious meals.”

Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “Y/N is right. We have to be responsible adults now.”

Jake blinked. “You literally bought Haneul cereal with marshmallows inside.”

“Okay, and?” Sunghoon raised a brow. “I was totally planning on having an overly excited two year old running through my flat.”

You whacked the handle of the cart gently with your hand. “I swear to god, if either of you tries to feed Haneul overly processed sweet cereal on this trip i will murder.”

“She liked it!” Jake argued.

“She’s two!” you shot back, exasperated. “of course she would like Lucky charms!” 

The three of you kept bickering your way through the aisles, Sunghoon and Jake tossing in snacks and frozen dumplings while you tried your best to balance out their food choices with fresh produce and at least two kinds of leafy greens.

Eventually, as you neared the checkout, Sunghoon slowed near a display stacked with colorful plushies and plastic toys.

“Ha-neul would love this,” he said, reaching for a giant bubble wand shaped like a bunny, which apparently made fairy noises when used.

“Nope,” you warned, grabbing the cart tighter. “Absolutely not. Put it down.”

“But–”

“Sunghoon.”

“She’d be so happy–”

“She’d also swing that thing like a sword and decapitate one of us.”

“Honestly, I’d accept it,” Jake said, nodding solemnly. “I’ve lived a full life.”

You sighed. “You two are impossible.”

Sunghoon, completely ignoring your scolding, tossed the wand back dramatically like a child denied his favorite toy. “You’re no fun.”

“And you,” you said, pointing at him with a cucumber, “want us to not be able to sleep cause Jay's already very loud and energetic toddler has a very loud and annoying toy, Sunghoon.”

Jake just laughed, loading the conveyor belt with ramen packs.

────────────────────────

“You holding up okay?”

You were slumped a little in the back seat, elbow propped against the window only paying half paying attention to their conversation. “Dude,” you said, rubbing at your eye, “I am so tired. I’ll probably go to bed before Haneul tonight.”

Jake laughed a little and Sunghoon piped in: “She fell asleep in the car and snored.”

You shot him a look so sharp he should’ve bled. “Okay, stop.”

He raised his hands in faux innocence, grinning. “Just saying.”

You groaned and pointed accusingly at both of them. “Sunghoon snores like a fucking chainsaw and Jake, you do too. So if I might have quietly snored a little after crying my eyes out because I had to tell two parents their baby died–” Your voice cracked for half a second, and then you snapped your mouth shut, looking out the window. “I get a pass. Okay?”

It was silent for a long moment. 

“Yo, what the fuck,” Jake said softly.

You didn’t look back at them. “Let’s just not talk about it, yeah?”

There was another beat of silence, filled only by the soft sound of the radio playing another overplayed song. You really wanted to change the topic, Jake and Sunghoon would definitely never not talk about it so you had to distract them somehow. 

“You know what,” you said, reaching for Sunghoon's phone, which was resting on the middle console, “This radio channel is shit I will now be the DJ of our ride.” 

Sunghoon gave you a side glance. “I won’t listen to any of your musical songs right now. I can’t handle Hamlet while driving a car full of idiots.”

“That’s because you have zero taste,” you shot back, unlocking his phone. His pin hasn’t changed since high school, it was his sister's birthday. “We’re going full nostalgia today.”

Jake perked up. “Like, high school bangers?”

“Exactly.”

You scrolled through your old shared playlist, the one you all made back in your second year. A beat later, the opening notes of Hello by Joy filled the car, and you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face as you cranked the volume up.

“Oh no,” Sunghoon muttered. “Turn it down before you break a window.”

You ignored him and immediately began singing along.

“You’re throwing off my depth perception,” Sunghoon complained over the music. “I can’t see with you murdering the melody like that.”

“Oh really?” you leaned forward slightly, singing  louder now and way off-key on purpose “Hellooooo~”

Jake wheezed but joined in.

“I’m pulling over,” Sunghoon threatened, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “You’re going to get us arrested for noise pollution. Turn the music down at least a bit Y/N.”

“I can’t do that,” you said and shook your head, “but I can switch to the next song!”

The moment Jake heard Twenty-three start playing, he perked up.

“No way,” he grinned, mouth still full of seaweed chips. “Turn that up even more.”

You obliged. Sunghoon groaned audibly. “Absolutely not.”

Too late. You and Jake launched into the chorus at full volume, harmonizing terribly on purpose.

“I’m twenty-three, I’m a riddle~” you sang, leaning toward Sunghoon with a smug grin. “Try to figure me out, boy~”

Jake chimed in with a falsetto, “But you still won’t get itttt~!”

Sunghoon had his head resting against the steering wheel at a red light. “I’m going to crash this car on purpose.”

“Oh, come on,” Jake laughed. “You love us.”

“I used to,” Sunghoon muttered. “Before you both decided to assault me with IU.”

You turned around in your seat, eyes squinting like a grandma. “You used to like this song. You said it was genius lyricism, remember?”

“I was young and stupid.” ──────────────────────── The house was buzzing when the three of you returned. Everyone had already changed into hiking gear, sneakers laced and backpacks slung over shoulders.

“You’ve got ten minutes to change, my loves!”, Yunjin said instead of a greeting when the three of you arrived back. 

You groaned playfully. “We’re not even allowed to sit down first?”

“Nope,” Heeseung said, tossing a protein bar at you. “Fuel up and get moving, we don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

Jake was already halfway up the stairs, so you trudged up behind him with Sunghoon following suit. When you pushed into your room, you headed straight for your suitcase, searching for the leggings and the hoodie you brought for going on a hike.

Sunghoon stood awkwardly near the door for a second, “Uh, I’ll just use the bathroom, give you a minute to–”

You cut him off without even looking up. “Sunghoon, you’ve seen me naked like… many, many times.”

He froze.

You tugged out a hoodie and looked up with a raised brow. “In the last two years, not much changed aside from maybe me gaining some weight. Just turn around and change. Even if you peek, I don’t really care.”

He blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, already pulling off Kai's hoodie over your shoulders.

Sunghoon turned around and reached for his suitcase. 

You both changed in mostly silence. Mostly, because you started muttering curses under your breath when your sock got stuck in the corner of the suitcase and Sunghoon, still facing the wall, chuckled.

“I heard that,” he said.

“Great. I am glad your ears haven’t lost their function in the last ten minutes.” ──────────────────────── This was a mistake.

You were maybe thirty minutes into the hike and already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment. The incline was steeper than you remembered from Yunjin’s very casual description of the hike, and your thighs were burning. Your hoodie stuck uncomfortably to your back, your water bottle was nearly empty and you still had almost an hour to go, if not more.

You tugged your cap down further, wiping your sweat-slicked forehead with the back of your hand. You were never really a athletic person and considering you’re spending your time studying or working, this ‘small hike up the hill’ was a bigger workout than you anticipated.  “Who the hell thought walking uphill for two hours to eat dinner was a good idea?” you muttered mostly to yourself.

Sunghoon glanced back over his shoulder and grinned. He was only a few steps ahead, walking backwards now with infuriating ease.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to see more green.”

“I meant, like. Spinach in my rice. Not trees around me.”

You huffed and slowed a bit more. Your calves were screaming. This was not what people with four night shifts behind them should be doing. You should be home sleeping or studying, not sweating through your hoodie and trying not to trip over exposed roots.

Sunghoon waited at a bend in the path, hands on his hips. “You okay?”

You gave him a flat look. “Do I look okay?”

“Honestly?” He tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to just lie down on the floor and wait until someone is going to pick you up, like Haneul just did.”

You snorted. “I’m wasting precious study time to walk around trees, Park. I have fetal monitoring notes to memorize. Placenta slides to cry over. Meanwhile, I’m out here, climbing hills.”

He laughed. A real, full laugh that pulled his shoulders up and crinkled his eyes.

“Want me to carry you like the toddler you are?” he offered, already half-turning like he might actually mean it. You knew he could and would if you asked. 

You waved him off. “Absolutely not. If I’m dying, I’m dying with dignity.”

“Noted.” But he slowed down anyway, matching your pace without a word as the rest of the group drifted further ahead. ──────────────────────── The hike was worth it. The view was ridiculous.

Golden light spilled over the horizon, washing the mountains in soft warmth and making the little patio of the restaurant glow like something out of a movie. The food was incredible, grilled meat, fresh vegetables, jjigae bubbling in the middle of the table.

You leaned back in your chair, a half-full bowl cradled in your hands, and watched the others laugh.

Heeseung and Ningning were teasing Yujin’s boyfriend, who looked overwhelmed but pleased. Jake was narrating a story about a ski trip you did a few years ago to Seol, while Jay kept adjusting the tiny blanket wrapped around Haneul’s shoulders where she was now curled up asleep in his lap, her tiny face smushed against his chest. You felt something crack a little inside your chest.

This was the sort of evening you used to dream about. Group trips with the people you loved most.

You used to think… you’d bring your kid along. You always dreamed of having kids early, to raise them with your chaotic group of friends, just like Jay had.

You blinked slowly, staring down into your bowl of rice. 

You really should have been there. You should have taken the time out of your schedule when it wasn’t as stressful as it was now to stay in contact with your friends, to see Haneul grow up. To help Jay whenever he struggled. For god sake if someone knew how to handle kids, or well new borns, it was you. But you felt so guilty that you couldn’t even look Jay in the eyes. 

You hadn’t meant to drift so far away. You just… kept choosing work. Kept telling yourself there’d be time later. That after the internship, after year one, after the shift change, after this week of nightshifts… But the weeks had somehow stretched into years. 

You looked up, eyes flicking across the table. Jay was murmuring something to his girlfriend, brushing a bit of rice off Haneul’s cheek. He looked happy. 

You cleared your throat and reached for the water pitcher, blinking hard. ──────────────────────── Back at the house, everyone slowly said goodnight one after another, apparently drained from the hike up to the restaurant. You moved on autopilot, brushing your teeth, tying your hair up in a sloppy braid, pulling a hoodie over your tank top. Sunghoon was already in bed when you slipped back into the room. 

The air in the room was warm, a little stuffy, but somehow very familiar. A faint mix of detergent and something you couldn’t name but had always been his. Just... him.

“Goodnight,” you mumbled, tugging your phone charger to your side of the room.

“Night,” he said, his voice already thick with sleep. And not five minutes later, his soft, uneven snore rumbled gently through the quiet.

You laughed under your breath. He always snored when he was dead tired.

But somehow you weren’t even close to being dead tired.

You laid there, eyes open, staring at the slats in the ceiling. Your blanket was bunched at your waist, legs too warm to be under it, arms too cold to be free. The soft rise and fall of Sunghoons breath should have been comforting, it always was when you couldn’t sleep, but all it did today was echo in your chest. Usually if you couldn’t sleep and Jaemin was home you would have slithered into his bed and tried to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat or his breathing, but you really didn’t want to ask your ex to cuddle you because you couldn't sleep. 

God, the whole room smelled like him. That was unfair.

You gave up just before 2am.

Silently, carefully, you slid out of bed, grabbed your iPad from the tote near the door, and crept into the hallway.

The house was quiet. Not the hospital quiet you were used to, filled with beeping and heavy footsteps, but real quiet.

You made your way into the main room and curled up in the corner of the couch, dragging your hoodie sleeve over your hands to warm them. With a sign you opened anki and tried to focus. 

Somewhere around half an hour later, your phone buzzed.

Jaemin: The restaurant looks really good. How did they get you to hike up there tho?

You huffed out a soundless laugh.

You: It’s 2:37.  Why are you alive.

Jaemin: Nightshift.  And I’m on break. Why are YOU alive.

You: Can’t sleep.  Again. Brain won’t turn off. So i am studying. 

Jaemin: Of course you are. You absolute gremlin. If you are still active on anki when i take my next break ill come to that house and steal your electric devices! 

You in fact were still active on anik when Jaemin had another break at 4:30 am but decided not only because he was scolding you, but also because you finally felt exhausted, to sleep.  ──────────────────────── The floor creaked under your weight when you tiptoed back into your room. Sunghoon stirred as you slid into your bed again, but didn’t wake up. 

You weren’t sure what woke you, the creak of the door, maybe, or the sudden burst of cold air against your legs when the blanket shifted, but the next thing you registered was a high-pitched squeal:

“Uncle Sunghoon!”

You heard the thud of a small weight launching itself onto Sunghoons bed, followed by the sound of tiny feet thumping against the mattress and Sunghoon’s very quick, very groggy, “Shhh, hey. Haneul, not so loud. Shhh.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly. The light in the room was already too bright for how little sleep you’d gotten. Your head ached dully behind your eyes and your limbs felt like lead, every cell protesting the idea of being awake.

Still, a part of you couldn’t help the soft pull at your mouth when you saw Haneul crawling over the covers, tugging at Sunghoon’s sleeve.

“Aunt Y/N is still very sleepy so we have to be very quiet, okay?”, he asked her while sitting up and pulling the giggling toddler into a hug. 

“Breakfast”, she said with a bit too much enthusiasm into her pacifier, only to be sushed by Sunghoon again. 

“Let’s get some breakfast for you and let Aunt Y/N sleep, huh Haneul? Is that fine for you?”

The toddler nodded enthusiastically and clinged to Sunghoon's upper body when he untangled himself from his blankets.  

You didn’t say anything, just pressed your cheek into the pillow and let your eyes close again, heart catching strangely at the sound of Sunghoon’s voice speaking for you. 

The door clicked softly shut behind them. ──────────────────────── When you woke up again, it was well past ten.

It was quiet. You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes harshly before making your way into the bathroom on the hallway. It was cold inside, someone left the window open after showering. Soft morning light filtered into the room while you washed your face and brushed your teeth.

The floor creaked faintly when you shuffled into the kitchen. It smelled like food and your stomach grumbled loudly when you saw the plate of fried egg and toast on the counter. A stickynote was glued to the waterbottle next to it: “We took Haneul to the petting zoo! Didn’t want to wake you, you looked exhausted. We’ll be back around lunch. Text if you need anything ♡”

You stared at the note for a moment, rubbing at the sleep still clinging to your face. They left without you. You reached for the note. Somehow you were glad that they let you sleep in but you were missing out. Again. Even though you finally had the time to actually come along. You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts quickly, they meant well. And them not being there until lunch meant you could maybe be a bit more productive than last night. After a long warm shower you actually styled your hair for once, curling the edges slightly and bundled yourself up to go down to the city. The air outside was crisp and smelled like rain when you took a deep breath through your nose. You wandered without much direction, letting your feet carry you past a few small shops before finding a little cafe tucked between two houses. Its windows were fogged up and it seemed like half of the town was squeezed into the little space. The bell above the door chimed quietly when you made your way in. A couple sitting near the window stood up the moment you entered so you settled into their seat as soon as they gathered their used cutlery. You ordered a coffee and one cookie and pulled out your Ipad. You almost didn’t notice the waitress returning with your order, already flipping through your notes. It was almost embarrassing how much comfort you found in pharmacology charts. 

Almost an hour later you took a toilet break and used the chance to look at your phone.

Yujin: where u at?? we're back!!! 

You smiled a little and typed back a short reply: Y/N At a café. I didn’t feel like staying in the house alone.  Thanks for letting me sleep in

Yujin: No worries. It was boring anyway. There were like 3 sheeps and a fuck ton of mud. Haneul was excited tho so it’s whatever She is napping rn and we’re gonna nap as well. She woke the whole house up at 7 am.  What do you wanna eat for Lunch later? Jay is cooking 

Y/N Yikes. I don’t really care.  Text me when you wake up, I’ll come back to the house <3

Yujin:Will do <3 

Fifteen minutes passed, maybe twenty, before someone tapped your shoulder. You glanced up, expecting it to be the waitress. But when you turned around it wasn’t the waitress, it was Sunghoon. 

His hair was slightly tousled from the wind and he was holding up two cups, wearing that same quiet smile you’d seen on him a hundred times before. One that was more eyes than mouth.

"Hey," he said, setting the drinks down before sliding into the seat across from you. 

You blinked. “Hi Sunghoon. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t feel like sleeping,” he said shrugging. “And I have to work a bit. One of my clients has been sending me emails nonstop. So I figured I could join you.”

“I-uhm- sure,” your gaze dropped to the cup he placed in front of you. It was Yuja tea. Your favorite.

He leaned back in his chair, unzipping his laptop bag. “I swear this client is causing me to grow gray hair prematurely,” he said casually. 

You huffed a soft laugh, watching as he opened his laptop. “I know a good hair dresser that could help out with that.”

“Thank you Y/N. I’ll come back to that in a few years.”, he just chuckled.

You stared at him for a second longer than you should’ve before shaking yourself out of it and turning back to your tablet. “I’m sure it will be sooner than later if you can’t catch a break even on a vacation day,” you murmured without thinking.

He glanced at you, eyes crinkling. “Look at who’s talking.”

You didn’t reply, just hummed and pouted at him. 

You were halfway through your second set of flashcards when Sunghoon asked, voice soft but curious, “Did you sleep alright?”

You leaned back a little. “Yeah. Thanks for saving me from the Haneul alarm clock, by the way.”

That made him laugh quietly. “You owe me big. She was already so energetic at 6 am, I barely managed to keep her from waking up the whole house. Jay the traitor sent her to us cause he wanted to continue sleeping.”

You raised your brows. “He sent her to us? Why that? How did you manage to keep her quiet?”

“Bribery,” he said immediately. “I promised her the chocolate bread Yujin brought if she let you sleep. And that kid loves me. I am officially the favourite uncle so it's just logical.”

You smiled behind your cup. “You’re a real hero.”

“I know,” he said dramatically, then lowered his voice. “Honestly though, I don’t get how she has that much energy.”

You snorted. “Probably from her mom. Minhee was a morning person afterall. And I mean don’t complain you used to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you went out for a run.”

He gave you a look. “Please. Just cause you’re lazy and an evening person, I don’t have to be.”

“Still am,” you said with a grin. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, mock-serious. “I’m just saying I’ve seen you do night shifts on nothing but Coke Zero and mint gum. And suffer when having to go to a morning shift even though you slept a whole 8 hours.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh. “I function just fine, thanks.”

He hummed like he didn’t believe you, then went back to typing something into his laptop.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the tapping of keys and the soft hum of conversation around you. 

It was strangely… familiar. The two of you, sitting in this calm pocket of the afternoon, sharing space again. Studying or working together in silence. ──────────────────────── Almost two hours later Jake called Sunghoon to come back to the house. Everyone, including the actual toddler, had woken up from their nap and they were about to start cooking. 

You looked up from your Ipad to look outside. Streams of rain were streaking down the foggy windows. 

“Mhm,” you said, wiping the condensation from the window with your sleeve. “Looks like we are going to get a free shower.” 

Sunghoon's gaze followed yours. “I think I have an umbrella in my bag. Wait a second.” 

He leaned down to lift his laptop bag onto his lap. A small teddy plush was dangling from its handle. 

You chuckled and reached forward to turn it into a front facing position while Sunghoon was searching around in his bag. “This is cute. Where did you get that?” 

“A colleague gifted it to me for my birthday last year,” he said absentmindedly, “ah ha! Look at that. An umbrella.”

You laughed at him when he triumphantly held it up into the air. “Now nothing is stopping us from eating whatever Jay cooked!” 

You both slipped your shoes on and stepped out into the drizzle. The umbrella opened with a snap, and Sunghoon tilted it slightly toward you as you huddled close, bags clutched to your chests.

After five steps, your shoulder was already soaked.

“Can you hold it higher?” you asked, trying to wedge in under the tiny canopy.

“I am holding it higher. You’re just hoarding the dry space,” he shot back, elbowing you lightly.

“Oh, please. I’m sacrificing my entire back right now.”

A gust of wind caught the umbrella from underneath, flipping it slightly and splashing a cold stream of water down both your necks. You shrieked.

You shoved him gently with your shoulder, nearly knocking him into a puddle. “Maybe if you worked out less, there’d be more room under here.”

He snorted. “Don’t blame the broad shoulders. You yourself said my arms are delectable, if i might remind you.”

“I did!”, you said, pressing your side closer into his, “but I didn’t know the consequences of you having a beautiful back and arms would be me being drenched in rain.”

By the time you made it back to the house, your jeans were clinging to your legs, your hair was stuck to your cheeks, and the only dry things were your laptop bags. 

You both stopped in front of the door and stared at it.

“Please tell me you have a key,” you said, already knowing the answer.

Sunghoon patted his soaked pockets uselessly. “It’s inside. I didn’t think we’d get locked out in the wilderness.”

You rolled your eyes and reached up to jab the doorbell. From inside, you heard the muffled sound of footsteps and then the click of the lock.

The door swung open and Ningning blinked at you both, horrified.

“Jesus Christ, what did you do?”

Without missing a beat, you shrugged. “Sunghoon and I decided to share a free shower.”

Ningning took one look at the sad excuse for an umbrella dripping on the porch and stepped aside. “You two are a cautionary tale.”

You walked past her with your bag clutched to your chest like a lifeline. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ning, I called dibs on being the first one in the proper shower.”

“I didn’t hear anything about dibs,” Sunghoon protested behind you.

“I made it spiritual,” you called over your shoulder. “Go dry your pretty arms somewhere else.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, kicking his shoes off. ──────────────────────── Jay had cooked enough to feed an army. The whole table was filled with plates and drinks, most of them non-alcoholic, to your surprise. Hanuel had claimed Sunghoons to be her chair of choice for the dinner. 

You’d ended up on the far end of the table, half-listening to a conversation between Heeseung and Jake about whether or not a smart fridge was a worthy investment, but your gaze kept drifting. You weren’t even trying to be subtle about it.

Sunghoon had one arm loosely wrapped around Haneul to steady her, the other wielding a spoon with exaggerated precision.

“Here comes the airplane,” he said, swooping the spoon in mid-air. “It’s approaching the hangar! Landing initiated in three… two… one!”

Haneul squealed and opened her mouth wide, clapping her hands when he made a whooshing sound as the spoon “landed.”

You smiled. You just couldn’t help it.

He did it again. And again. Each time with a new variation. Rocket ship. Puppy taxi. Bubble boat. Her tiny body rocked with laughter, head thrown back as he played along, utterly unbothered by the food smeared across her cheek or the rice sticking to his sleeve.

You watched the scene unfold with something warm and gentle blooming in your chest.

It felt a bit bittersweet at the same time. You were a stranger in a room full of uncles and aunties, despite knowing all the uncles and aunties for years, god forbid you even helped her being born, but you were never there. You never gave her a chance to know you as auntie Y/N.

Your eyes stayed on them.

He was so at ease. Smiling, shoulders relaxed, wearing a oversized hoodie, his hair still slightly damp from his shower.

He glanced up once, catching you watching. He gave you a little wave with the spoon before turning back to Haneul.

You looked down at your plate, cheeks flushed, fingers suddenly fidgety.

Jake nudged your elbow. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Jake hummed and you knew he didn’t believe you. You didn’t believe yourself either.  ──────────────────────── After you finished eating and cleaning the dining room, the group gathered in the living room. Haneul had asked if you could watch Cinderella so the whole group decided that, ten adults should somehow squeeze onto the two sofas in front of the TV to watch Cinderella. 

Someone had dimmed the lights, and you ended up tucked into one corner of the couch, knees bent, feet slipped under Yunjin’s thighs for warmth. She didn’t even blink, just handed you the end of the blanket.

Sunghoon was on the floor, his back against the couch, Haneul wrapped around him. Her small body had gone lax with exhaustion, one cheek pressed to his chest, her breathing deepening slowly halfway through the movie.

You had your kindle on your lap. You were reading one of the books you downloaded a while ago. It was something sweet and uncomplicated, the kind of story that usually soothed your overworked brain. But tonight, you couldn’t concentrate on the story at all. You signed and closed the book. Your gaze wandered through the room until it was stuck on Sunghoon again. 

He wasn’t watching the movie either. His eyes were half-lidded, head tilted slightly toward the toddler, arms looped protectively around her. The flickering light from the screen caught on his lashes and jawline.

Your stomach twisted. Not sharply. Just a soft, odd pull, warm and aching all at once.

He looked good like this. You had such a weak spot for kids and seeing him holding her like that just did something to you.

You ducked your head, trying to focus on your book again. But somehow, your hands wandered. You scrolled past your current novel and opened a medical textbook.

Prenatal Cardiac Anomalies: A Diagnostic Overview.

Somehow the thought of continuing reading through your textbook felt easier than reading a romance novel right now.  ──────────────────────── You were tired.

God, you were tired.

But your brain… your brain was still ticking. It didn’t matter how warm the blanket was, how silent the house had gone once everyone scattered to bed. It didn’t matter that Sunghoon was across the room, already passed out, snoring softly into his pillow.

Your eyes stayed open.

You lay there staring at the ceiling for ten minutes. Then twenty. Then maybe thirty. And still, your thoughts didn’t quiet down. 

So you slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs to curl up in the armchair in the wintergarden. You told yourself you’d just review a bit more.

Just enough to stop your brain from chewing itself alive.

But ten minutes in, you were still reading the same sentence.

Something about estrogen receptor profiles.

It might as well have been written in Greek. You read it. Then reread it. Then again. 

Your fingers clenched around the edges of your iPad, frustration was simmering somewhere between your sternum and your throat. You knew this topic. You’d studied it three times already. Why wasn’t it sticking? Why did your eyes feel too dry, your brain too foggy and your heart too tight all at once?

You didn’t even hear his footsteps until a voice broke through your haze.

“Y/N?”

You flinched so hard you nearly dropped the iPad.

“Jesus,” you gasped, clutching your chest. “What the fuck, Sunghoon.”

He stepped inside, hoodie tugged over his hair, barefoot. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You gave him a look and pouted. “Maybe don't sneak on at me then.”

“Sorry,” he said, coming closer to peer onto the glowing screen. “You coming back to bed?”

You shook your head quickly. “I’m fine. I just…couldn’t sleep.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed gently. “So you decided to study?”

“I had to,” you mumbled. “I didn’t finish everything I wanted to finish today.”

“You studied like 4 hours in that cafe today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I am still behind on my plan, since I didn't do enough yesterday.”

He didn’t say anything to that just let himself sink down on the chair opposite to yours, watching you. 

You tried to go back to the flashcards, but your fingers were trembling slightly now. You felt stupid. Weak. Like no amount of time would ever be enough to catch up. Like your worth was balancing on how much you crammed into your already overflowing brain. You did study for hours today, but it felt like nothing stuck. Everything you revised was gone.

“You do this often?” he asked after a while, voice quieter.

You hesitated. “Sometimes.”

“Do you always study when you can’t sleep?”

“Not always,” you murmured. “Sometimes I just… go to Jaemin’s room. Or he comes to mine. It helps. Being around someone. You know.”

He nodded slowly, eyes soft. “I get that.”

There was a long pause.

Then, wordlessly, he leaned forward and gently pulled the iPad from your hand. Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t stop him.

“You’re done for today,” he said.

“Sunghoon–”

“You’re done,” he repeated. “Come on.”

You blinked at him, heart thudding. “But I haven’t finished–”

“I know you haven’t.” His voice stayed calm. “But you look like you’re about to cry and that’s when it stops being useful.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then finally, with a tiny exhale, you let him take your hand and pull you up. He was right, this was just a waste of time at this point. 

Neither of you said anything as you padded through the hallway together. He didn’t say a word as you crawled back into your bed and turned to face the wall and finally let your eyes close.

But you knew he was still awake, laying in the bed across from you. You heard him shifting across the room, rustling his blanket in the process.

After a few moments he softly said your name. 

“Y/N?” 

He moved again and his bed creaked. “Would it help… if we shared one bed?”

You blinked against the darkness of the room but didn’t answer him.  ──────────────────────── You came down later than usual the next morning.

The floorboards creaked under your socks as you descended the stairs, the scent of toasted bread and instant coffee already filling the air. 

When you turned the corner, Sunghoon was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him. His hair was slightly damp and unstyled and he looked just as tired as you felt. His laptop was in front of him, the light reflecting in his glasses and he was frowning at the screen. 

“Morning,” Jake offered cheerfully, mouth half-full of toast.

You smiled faintly at him, tearing your gaze away from Sunghoon's figure. He shouldn’t be working right now, he was on vacation. “Morning.”

You moved around the kitchen on autopilot, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and grabbing a plate. 

You sat down diagonally across from Sunghoon, not quite opposite, since you knew he didn’t like it when drinks stood behind his laptop. He didn’t look at you, but his foot nudged the table leg once, just enough to make the water in your glass ripple slightly and you look up. He smiled and winked at you. You just rolled your eyes and went back to your slice of toast.

Maybe you should have just said yes yesterday. You knew he didn’t sleep until he was sure you’ve fallen asleep, he never did. He was always too afraid that you would go back to studying if he slept before you did. You did your best and fell asleep shortly after laying down, your body was apparently exhausted enough to just sleep and overpower your ever running brain in the comfort of knowing someone, of knowing Sunghoon, was there.  ──────────────────────── The small market Yunjin made you go to was filled with noise and way too many people. 

The air was sticky and warm in the alleyway the market was located in, thick with the scent of frying oil and sweet batter, fresh fruit and grilled meat. You weaved your way past a stall selling steamed buns, following your friends. They were trying to  find the small samgyeopsal restaurant Ningning found on Naver yesterday. You slowed down a bit to ask Sunghoon if he would like to get some tangerines for his mom. She loved tangerines, especially those from the South of the country, claiming they taste sweeter and better. Whenever you were on trips, Sunghoon and you always brought some for her. You stopped walking when you realized he wasn't behind you anymore, and turned around to scan over the crowd of people. He was a few meters behind you, by the fish tanks, big plastic tubs filled with live octopus and silver fish darting through shallow water.

Sunghoon stood just behind the crowd, Haneul slumped against his shoulder, pacifier in her mouth, red-eyed and sniffly.

She must’ve cried recently, her face was blotchy and her nose was slightly runny. It was pressed against Sunghoon's shoulder, little hands fisted in the back of his shirt. His free hand was gently supporting her back, rocking her ever so slightly as they watched the fish dart around in the shallow water. 

You frowned. Haneul had been off all morning, a bit clingier, a bit paler, her usual chatter reduced to sleepy murmurs. The market noise and heat couldn’t have been helping.

“She didn’t want to be set down,” he said when you approached, his voice quiet. “She started crying again when I tried. We even had to get out her pacifier," he grumbled, seemingly unhappy about that fact.

You stepped closer and softly reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of your finger. “Oh no, Haneulie. Don’t cry, pretty girl,” you murmured.

The toddler blinked at you, her lower lip wobbling around the pink piece of plastic in her mouth.

You turned to Sunghoon. “Do you think she’d be okay with a little sugar?”

He glanced down at Haneul, then up at you. “Sure. I’m not her dad. Why would I say no to sugar? We will just give her back to Jay if she has a sugar high.”

You laughed under your breath. “Good point. I'll be back in a second. Don't move.”

With that, you turned on your heel and started weaving through the crowd again, dodging a group of elderly women with shopping trolleys to reach the fried snack stall. You came back with three twisted dough sticks wrapped in parchment, still warm in your hands.

"Here," you said already in motion to hand Sunghoon one of the kwwaebggis, when you realized he had his hands full of a toddler, "I thought you'd like one aswell."

"Thank you, Y/N", he said and tried to lower Haneul to the ground. She made an unhappy noise and strengthened her grip on Sunghoon's Shirt.

He paused mid-motion. “Okay, okay, I got you,” he murmured, adjusting her on his hip again. “No setting you down today.”

Her head dropped against his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh through her pacifier.

“She’s really attached to you, huh?” you asked, watching them both with an amused smile as you tore off a piece of the warm kwabaegi.

Sunghoon gave a helpless little shrug. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this loyalty, but I’m too scared to test it.”

You laughed softly and stepped a bit closer to the two of them. “Look what I got you,” you said softly, holding out a piece of the kwabaegi to the toddler.

She looked at it and shook her head, burying it more in Sunghoon's shoulder.

"Would you like to give me your pacifier to try? I promise it's very yummy, Haneul.", you said, offering the piece again, but she pushed it away with her tiny palm.

You ate the piece to demonstrate to her that it really is yummy. "Mhm. I really like kwabaegi, Haneul. Uncle Sunghoon does too."

He nodded and adjusted her in his arms. "You should really try one, baby. I am sure you'll feel better afterwards."

She just whined a ‘no’ again.

“Look, Haneul-ah,” you cooed, exaggerating your tone, ripping a piece of kwabaegi off and making an airplane motion towards Sunghoons mouth. “Uncle Hoonie says this is soooo yummy. Right, Uncle?”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened for a beat before he caught on. “Oh, yes. Delicious.” He leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth like a child, eyes wide and dramatic. “Mmm! So yummy!” he moaned, chewing the tiny piece you gave him like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

You snorted and ate a piece as well. “See? ”

Then you held out a small piece toward Haneul, who’d lifted her head just a little, eyes watching closely.

“Wanna try, baby?” you asked softly.

She hesitated… then grabbed her pacifier, let it fall to her shirt and opened her mouth.

You placed the kwabaegi gently on her tongue, and she blinked, chewed slowly and then reached for another piece from your hand, a clear sign of approval.

Sunghoon chuckled. “I see how it is. You trust Y/N, but not me.”

“She just knows I am the cooler one between the two of us,” you replied sweetly.

“Thats unfair and a lie. I did the dramatic chewing and everything!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face as you broke off another bit and handed it to her. Haneul leaned forward eagerly this time, her little fingers brushing yours as she took it.

You fished a small pack of tissues out of your bag and started gently wiping the powdered sugar from the corner of Haneul’s mouth, when the three of you finished your twists. Then you handed Sunghoon the tissue while reaching for her water bottle.

“Here, have a sip,” you said, coaxing the toddler into taking a few careful gulps. She wriggled on his hip but didn’t protest much. She was already visibly more content, cheeks flushed from the heat and her earlier tears, but she was neither pouting nor asking for her pacifier so you took that as a win.

Sunghoon stood still, holding the pack of tissues in one hand and watching you quietly.

You glanced up and caught him staring.

“What?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you dabbed Haneul’s sticky fingers.

He blinked, then immediately looked away, letting out a small laugh, the awkward kind he did when he was trying to downplay something.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, taking a step back only to bump into a lady browsing dried squid behind him.

“Ah, sorry!” he murmured, half-bowing in apology, before shuffling back toward you with a sheepish wince.

You raised a brow. “Sunghoon. What was that?”

“Nothing,” he repeated, but his ears were turning red.

You didn’t drop it. “Seriously. What?”

He hesitated, then gave a tiny shrug, eyes darting to the toddler in his arms and back to you.

“It’s just… I don’t know.” His voice dipped lower. “That was really cute. You, with her.”

You blinked.

He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly regretting saying it out loud. “I mean…seeing you with kids. Your whole face just lights up. It’s…yeah. That.”

For a moment, all the noise of the market faded.

You swallowed, caught off guard by the softness of his tone, by how gently he was looking at you now.

You cleared your throat, quickly turning back to fish another tissue out of your bag, trying not to read too much into what he just said.

“Well, good thing I’m not completely useless,” you said, half under your breath.

Sunghoon smiled at that and Haneul reached forward again, tugging on your sleeve.

“Aunt Y/N… carry me?” she asked softly, rubbing her cheek against Sunghoon’s shirt.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “Me?” you asked gently. “Oh sweetheart, I’m not nearly as strong as your uncle. I think he’s better for the job.”

Haneul frowned in protest, her bottom lip wobbling.

“But,” you added quickly, holding out your hand, “I can hold your hand while Uncle Honnie carries you, if that’s okay with you.”

She sniffled once, then nodded solemnly, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

You nodded and smiled at Haneul, who slumped back down onto Sunghoon's shoulder, again, her hand clasped in yours between you.

And when you glanced up, Sunghoon was already looking at you.

Not at the toddler, not at the path ahead. At you.

With a look so full of fondness it nearly knocked the breath from your chest.

You knew that expression. It was the same one he used to wear during study sessions in your kitchen. When you were half-asleep in your shared bed in the morning. When you’d laugh too hard at something dumb and he’d just… stare. Quietly. 

Your stomach flipped, and you looked away with a soft smile

Together, with Haneul nestled between you, the three of you made your way back toward the group. And for just a second, your brain jumped to a version of you and Sunghoon where you weren’t carrying your friend's daughter, but your own.  ──────────────────────── By the time you got back to the house, everyone was exhausted from hiking all day.

Haneul had refused to let go of either of you since the market. She clung to Sunghoon during the cable car ride, her tiny fingers twisted into his jacket. And when the buggy proved too slow and bumpy, she’d whined until you picked her up, only to eventually find her way right back into Sunghoon’s arms, where she dozed off on his chest for most of the walk back from the skywalk.

Now, sprawled out across the largest sofa, she lay curled into Sunghoon’s chest, half-asleep again, one small hand still gripping yours with determined force. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks pink from the sun, and her other fist clutched the sleeve of Sunghoon’s hoodie like a lifeline.

The rest of the group had put on Knowing Bros, half-watching while chatting quietly, half-dozing through the comfortable hum of the evening.

A heavy weight pressed into your side suddenly and you heard Heeseung grunt, while he tried to get comfortable in the small space between you and Ningning.

“Heeseung,” you groaned, cracking one eye open as you felt your entire side get squashed into the person on your right.

"Just continue sleeping Y/N. I'll just get comfortable here," he mumbled curling around his fiance and stealing part of your blanket you were sharing with her.

“You're stealing my space and my blanket,” you muttered, elbowing Heeseung without much force. There was nowhere to go, except closer to Sunghoon, who didn’t seem to mind when you shifted closer, pressed shoulder to shoulder now.

He didn’t say anything, just adjusted the blanket around Haneul’s little body to cover you as well and let her keep dozing on his chest.

The movie played on, and you decided you’d just keep your eyes closed. Not asleep, just letting yourself rest. You didn't want to fall asleep and miss out. You loved being with your friends, you loved how clingy Haneul was to 'Aunt Y/N' so you were simply resting your eyes a bit.

“Wow,” Jake muttered, grinning. “You two stole Jay’s kid and just… went straight back to being disgusting. Feels like high school all over again.”

Sunghoon huffed, not annoyed, but not amused either. His voice was low, careful. “Can we not do this right now? She’s finally sleeping.”

Jay chuckled. “She didn't get enough Coke Zero today.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon said. You could feel him shift, tucking the blanket tighter around you both. “She isn't sleeping at night. She comes up with us and gets ready and then an hour later goes downstairs to study. I had to talk her into going back to bed yesterday.”

There was a small pause, the only sound in the room coming from the TV.

Jake softly asked: “Is she okay?”

“I mean, yeah,” Sunghoon said. “She says she’s fine.”

“You don’t believe her?”

“I didn’t say that,” he muttered. “It’s just… She’s tired.” “She’s always tired,” Yunjin said gently. “That’s what happens when you work twelve-hour shifts and study during breaks.” “No one would be surprised if she was burned out,” Heeseung added. “Honestly, with the way she pushes herself? She hasn’t slowed down in years.” There was a beat of silence. Then Yunjin spoke again, her voice tinged with guilt: “I kind of hoped this trip would be a break for her. Some actual rest. Not… cramming after we all pass out.”

Your fingers curled slightly under the blanket. You hadn’t meant for them to know. You were just trying. Trying to stay on track. Trying to not fall behind. Trying to not lose the rhythm you’d worked so hard to keep. Sunghoon’s voice was quiet now, something resigned in it. “She just doesn’t know how to stop. She never has." Ningning shifted beside you and whispered, “She’s gonna be okay, right?” Sunghoon exhaled. “She’s Y/N. She’ll keep going. Even when she shouldn’t.” You wished you could say something. Reassure them. Reassure yourself. But instead, you curled slightly closer and let yourself feel what you usually didn’t have time to: the ache of being known and the comfort of being loved, even if it was from behind closed eyes. ──────────────────────── It was past midnight again, and the house had long since gone quiet. The others had woken you up when they got ready for bed and you followed them upstairs, bruising your teeth, washing your face and curling into your bed, trying to fall asleep again. 

But sleep just wouldn’t come. 

You hadn’t reviewed any of your material today. Not even one section. Not one concept. You should’ve done more.

You needed to do more.

The exam wasn’t going to wait for you to stop being tired. You knew that.

So when Sunghoon's soft snores filled the silence in your bedroom, you silently removed the thick blanket of your body and crept out of the room, hoping he would stay asleep tonight. You felt incredibly guilty for worrying them all, but there was nothing you could do, nothing would help quiet down your head but finishing what you had on your study planner for today.

The soft creaks of the old wood under your feet were the only sounds as you tiptoed downstairs.

You settled on the stairs between the living room and the winter garden, legs tucked beneath you. 

You weren’t reading anything. Not really. Just staring at the same sentence for the fourth time, not even blinking. 

The door creaked open and you flinched slightly.

You didn’t look up until he dropped beside you on the stairs, a water bottle in one hand, his sweatshirt pulled on backwards.

“I thought you were asleep,” you said quietly.

“I was,” he replied, voice even quieter. “Until I wasn’t.”

You both sat in silence for a minute.

Then, finally, he asked, “Do you know why this keeps happening?”

You stared at your cards, thumb brushing one edge again and again. “I can’t shut it off. My brain. It just… keeps going.”

He just nodded slowly, indicating he was listening, so you kept going.

“After we broke up,” you said, your voice low, hesitant, “I was at the hospital.”

He blinked. “Yeah, I know. You worked there even before we broke up.”

“No,” you said. “Not as an employee. I was in the ER. I fainted during my shift. They diagnosed me with burnout.”

His head turned toward you sharply. “You what?”

“In the middle of rounds,” you said softly. “One second I was standing, next thing I know, I was in a hospital bed with an IV. They said it was burnout.”

“Jesus, Y/N…” he whispered.

You gave a small, humorless smile. “I think I knew it was coming. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

His brows furrowed, his jaw tense.

“It wasn’t just the job,” you continued staring outside. “It was the exams, the night shifts, the pressure, that one asshole attending who made my life hell and still trying to be a good girlfriend and friend. Going on dates, and meeting up with the others.”

You drew a shaky breath. “And then… Minhee.”

His head turned at you but you shook your head, not wanting to look at him. 

“That night…” you said slowly. “I think that broke something in me. I’ve never lost anyone before. Not like that. I mean I’ve lost patients yeah. But no one I knew personally. And then suddenly I was holding her hand while her heart stopped. Watching my colleagues trying to save Hanuel's life while her mother was dying right there.”

He closed his eyes.

You nodded. “I think everything that had been stacking up just… collapsed after that. I checked out. I barely remember the two months after.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you, raw and unguarded. “I am so sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t mean to say it, not really, but your voice came out anyway, small and rough.

“I just would’ve needed you back then.”

Sunghoon didn’t move.

You swallowed hard. “Not to fix anything. Not even to do much. Just… a little understanding. I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t care. I was drowning. Studying felt like survival, and everything else, dates, trips, even replying to texts, it felt like walking barefoot through fire.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?”

“I didn't know how to,” you said. “You were as close to burning out as I was. We barely even saw each other, and if we did, every conversation we had was around school or my residency or we fought.”

You felt him watching you. 

“I’ve never stopped worrying about you,” he said eventually, voice thick. “Not once since we broke up. We’ve known each other since kindergarten, Y/N. I thought I knew you better than anyone.”

“You did, probably still do.”

“I didn’t know you were collapsing at work,” he said. “I didn’t know you were–fuck, I didn’t help. I kept pushing you to spend time with me when you clearly weren’t doing okay, and I didn’t even see it.”

“Sunghoon.” You finally turned to him. “You were going through the same thing. You were studying for your bar exam. Your internship. Your parents were on your ass about everything. You weren’t supposed to fix me.”

“I still feel like I should’ve seen it,” he murmured.

You exhaled slowly, your head tipping just enough to rest against his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said. “It wasn’t mine either. It just… happened. Life just happened.”

There was a long pause until he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t lift your head. You just waited, breath held tight in your chest.

“I missed you so much,” he said, his voice wavering a bit. “And I hated myself for how things ended. For how I let it get to the point where we couldn’t even talk without hurting each other.”

Your throat tightened.

“I knew you weren’t okay. Not really,” he went on, a little steadier now. “And then…then you just… disappeared. Cut everyone off like we were part of the problem. And maybe we were.” He huffed out a short breath. “I asked my mom about you a few times. But I stopped. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, you know how she is. She would’ve started preparing wedding invitations.”

You let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh.

He didn’t laugh.

“I just didn’t want to believe we’d gone from everything to nothing. But I didn’t know how to reach you without making it worse. So I stayed away.”

You shifted just slightly, your hand brushing his.

“I missed you too.”

You were quiet once more, letting the sound of rain falling against the windows of the wintergarden fill the silence.

After a few minutes you spoke again.

"I think it's happening again," you said quietly, staring straight ahead. “Me burning out.”

Sunghoon hummed lightly, just enough to tell you he was listening.

You closed your eyes. “My last shift, it was NICU. We lost two babies. Two. I had to tell the parents. And I fucking hate that part. You never get used to it. How could I? Their whole world just…” You exhaled sharply. “It’s gone. And they look at you like you’re supposed to make it make sense.”

His hand found yours and he intervened your fingers, softly squeezing them.

“I love this job,” you went on, voice thinner now. “Or I used to think I did. I love the science, the surgeries, the rush of helping someone survive something impossible. But lately… I don’t know. I feel like I’m barely surviving. Like I’m pretending really hard every day. And no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

A beat passed. Two.

Then you softly continued: “I think I just needed you back then. Even just a little. You didn’t have to fix anything. I just–” your voice caught. “I just needed someone to say I wasn’t crazy for feeling like I was drowning. That I was still me, even when I wasn’t holding it all together. Jaemin does that now. I think it's because he understands the situation I am in the best. He and his boyfriend are struggling a lot at the moment too. Will probably until we had our exam. We're selling our body and soul to work and the bar exam.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. You could hear the sound of him swallowing.

“You should’ve told me,” he said eventually. “Even now. You shouldn’t be carrying this alone. I am glad you're telling Jaemin how you're feeling.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You never were.” He turned his head toward you then, and your gazes met. “Y/N, you were right, we were both breaking back then. I think I was too scared to admit I was burning out and the fact that you weren't saying anything about overworking myself annoyed me. I saw my friends' girlfriends being attentive and making them go out on dates to distract them. I knew you were stressed, I knew it. And I was still pissed you wouldn't look after mw, when I should have probably done that for you, and should have tried fixing our relationship.”

That admission cracked something in you.

You shifted slightly, resting your forehead gently against his shoulder, your voice barely audible now. “I didn’t need you to fix anything. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good girlfriend at the time. I just–I just needed you to stay.

“I’m here now,” he murmured, squeezing your fingers again.  You nodded against him. For the first time in years, you actually felt like crying. Your eyes burned, and you blinked aggressively, to stop your tears from falling. You weren’t going to cry. You couldn’t cry. Not again. You were over this, over him. Or at least you liked to pretend you were. But before you could even swallow it back, you heard it, the softest of inhales, the quietest shift in posture. You looked up.

Sunghoon had tears in his eyes. Your breath caught. Not because you didn’t think he’d care–you knew he did. But seeing it… seeing him like that, cracked something clean in your chest. You hit him lightly on the arm, voice a little hoarse. “You crybaby.” His mouth twitched. “Me? Look at you, Y/N. You’ve got, like, two tears in your eyes, while I only have one. ” You let out a half-laugh, wiping your face with your sleeve. “You’re such an idiot.” He smiled. The tension eased, just slightly, and he tilted his head toward the house. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go back inside. Just lie down for a bit. Fifteen minutes, max. If it doesn’t work, you can go back to your flashcards or your mad scientist scribbles or whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”

You gave him a look. “I mean it,” he said, soft but firm. “Just try.” You hesitated. Then nodded. And let him lead the way. You let him pull you back toward the bedroom without protest this time. The cool night air clung to your skin. Your fingers brushed as you walked up the stairs, but neither of you said anything. Inside, the room was dim and still smelled like him, laundry detergent, something clean and woodsy, and a faint trace of his cologne. “Can you…”, you cleared your throat, “would it be okay for you if we slept in one bed?”

“Sure,” he nodded andpulled his blanket of his bed, waiting until you climbed into yours. When he settled beside you, it felt… natural. Not easy, not uncomplicated, but familiar in a way your body remembered even if your mind wasn’t sure how to handle it. You shifted closer, letting your head come to rest on his chest. His arm moved around you instinctively, pulling you in just enough. But under your cheek, you could feel his heartbeat, quick and uneven, a little too fast.

You blinked against his shirt. “Your heart’s racing.” There was a pause, then a small, sheepish laugh. “I’m a little nervous, okay?” You lifted your head slightly to look at him. “I’m in bed with my ex,” he added, grinning softly. “That’s a first. Cut me some slack.” You rolled your eyes and smacked his stomach lightly. “You’re so annoying.” He chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling under your cheek. “And yet you still chose my bed.”

“Shut up, Park Sunghoon.” “Alright, alright.” He held up his free hand in mock surrender, then shifted again, settling more comfortably. You closed your eyes again, letting the silence wash over you. You weren’t sure when his fingers started moving again. At first, you barely noticed it. Just the faintest drag of skin on skin, slow, barely-there motions on your back where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You stayed still, breathing shallow and quiet. But then he began tracing shapes. Letters. You tensed slightly.

A straight line… a curve… another curve…

“H.” Your brows knit together in the dark. He was spelling something. “I.” You bit the inside of your cheek. It took all your focus not to turn your head and answer. “S-T-I-L-L.” Still. He paused for a second. You weren’t sure if he thought you’d fallen asleep or if he just needed a breath.

Then more. “H-E-R-E.” Still here. “A-L-W-A-Y-S” You closed your eyes. Squeezing them shut to stop them from watering again. He kept going, slower now. His fingers drifted over your spine, across your shoulder blade, gentle and soft. He traced small hearts once. A spiral. A star. A shaky infinity sign that made your lips twitch the tiniest bit. Your heart pulled in two directions, overwhelmed by how tender it was, and aching because it had ever stopped being normal. You didn’t remember falling asleep. Only that somewhere between the letter R and the little loop he drew beneath your ribs, your mind finally, finally, shut up.

And this time, sleep came easily. ──────────────────────── When you woke up the next morning you were alone in bed. Sunghoon's side was still warm, so you assumed he just got out of bed a few minutes before you. You yawned and stretched yourself before making your way to the bathroom and then downstairs, where you found Jay and Sunghoon on the sofa, Hanuel curled onto Jay's chest watching bluey.  "Good morning.", you said, letting yourself fall onto the sofa next to Jay.  "Good morning Y/N."Jay greeted gently combing through his daughter's black hair. 

Her face was flushed. "Is Haneul okay?", you asked and reached out to put a hand on the toddler's forehead. "She is a bit warm, isn't she." "Yeah she got sick.", Jay mumbled looking down at her with a worried facial expression. “She woke us up twice tonight. Seol spent half of the night down here, reading and watching TV. She is sleeping upstairs now.” “Mhm,” you said touching your and Jay's forehead, “she definitely has a mild fever. Did you bring any medication? I don’t have child approved medication on me, but I could go down to the farmacy?” “Oh. No no, don’t worry about that. I’ll go down by myself when she wakes up again. I just don’t want her to wake up right now, she has just fallen asleep.” “Ah Jay. It’s not a problem. Imma get Haneul the good stuff and she will be up and about in no time.”, you said, lifting yourself from the sofa. “Are the others still sleeping?” “Yunjin and Tae are on a sunset hike and Hee and Ningning are probably still sleeping. Jake and Hyerim are doing god knows what.”, Sunghoon answered, lifting himself enough to look into your eyes. “Do you want me to come along?”

“No it’s fine, Sunghoon. Just continue being a pillow. I know my way around medications.”, you smiled at him and walked back upstairs. ──────────────────────── When you came back from the pharmacy, almost everyone was flopping around in the living room. A rerun of Hotel De Luna was running on the TV, while the others were spread across the living room. Yunjin had returned from her hike and was now tucked into a beanbag with Tae sharing her blanket, both sipping warm drinks. Ningning was sprawled across Heeseung’s lap, sleeping in a seemingly very uncomfortable position. Jake and Hyerim were talking to themselves. The only person who looked truly awake was Sunghoon, who sat in the corner of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, hair still slightly tousled. He looked relaxed, almost peaceful. You walked in quietly, the door clicking shut behind you. He turned toward the sound instinctively, eyes softening when they landed on you. “Mission successful?” he asked. You lifted the paper bag triumphantly. “She’ll be back to bossing us around in no time.”

A few of the others hummed in acknowledgment, but most were too absorbed in the episode or their own tired haze to respond. A few minutes later, you crossed the room and dropped into the open space beside Sunghoon with a dramatic sigh. You were holding your Kindle in one hand and tugging the edge of the blanket with the other. He didn’t say anything, just shifted slightly. You nestled into the sofa, tucking your legs up and leaning into his warmth. His hand rested loosely around your shoulder.  You didn’t say anything, either. Just opened your Kindle and flipped through a few pages of a medical casebook, pretending to read. Truthfully, your attention was split, maybe 30% on the text, and the rest on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way your body fit so easily against his again, the quiet intimacy that still lingered despite everything unspoken. You probably should really speak about what was happening right now, how you just shared a bed for the night, how you almost automatically curled back into him here on the sofa.  He shifted once to help you get more comfortable, tugging the blanket up slightly over your legs. Somewhere in the background, IU’s voice echoed through the room, wistful and distant. ──────────────────────── You were half-curled into Sunghoon’s side, Kindle balanced against your thigh, when soft footsteps padded down the stairs. Everyone turned instinctively. Jay was holding a sleepy but clearly stubborn Haneul in his arms. Her hair was flattened to one side, and her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes lit up as she spotted you across the room. “Oh no,” Jay said dryly. “She saw her targets.” You smiled and waved. “Hey, baby.”

Haneul wriggled immediately, demanding to be put down, and tottered toward the couch with single-minded purpose. You shifted to make space between yourself and Sunghoon, assuming she’d collapse into his lap. But she didn’t. Instead, she reached for you, tugging at your arm with surprising insistence. “Auntie.” You blinked. “Me?” Haneul nodded seriously. “Wanna sit with you.” “Oh,” you said, glancing briefly at Jay, then Sunghoon, who just shrugged. “Okay, come here then.” You lifted her gently into your lap, wrapping the blanket around the two of you as she cuddled in, her body still warm with fever. She exhaled with a small sigh and pressed her cheek to your chest, thumb slipping into her mouth. A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “Read me something.” You laughed softly. “I don’t have any kids books, sweetheart.” “I’ll get one,” Sunghoon said, already pushing to his feet. He disappeared toward the hallway bookshelf and returned a minute later with a battered picture book in one hand and his laptop under his arm.

You adjusted Haneul against your chest and cracked the book open. The toddler watched intently as you began to read in a soft, lilting voice. Sunghoon flipped open his laptop beside you, fingers flying over the keyboard. His brows were furrowed in concentration. You glanced at him once between pages, catching the faint crease between his brows as he focused on whatever email or report had stolen his attention. You weren’t sure if he was even hearing you read, but every time Haneul pointed at a picture or giggled at a silly voice you made, his mouth twitched upward. Your voice stayed low, barely above a whisper. You were careful not to disturb the others scattered across the room. The rain hadn’t stopped outside. It clung to the windows, soft and persistent, like background music. And as you sat there, Haneul tucked into your chest, Sunghoon typing beside you, the slow unfolding of a quiet day, you felt something strange settle into your chest.

A deep, aching kind of comfort. The kind that made you wish time could slow down just a little more. ──────────────────────── Haneul had dozed off again halfway through the story, one tiny hand still clutching your shirt. You eased the book shut, careful not to jostle her, and glanced sideways just in time to see Sunghoon exhale sharply and throw his head back against the backrest. He looked tense. His jaw clenched, one hand still hovering over the keyboard as if he couldn’t quite let go of whatever he’d been typing. His laptop remained open, screen glowing faintly in his lap. “You okay?” you asked quietly. He didn’t answer right away, just ran a hand through his hair, eyes fluttering shut for a second before opening again. “I want to commit murder,” he said flatly. You blinked. “That’s a strong reaction for a children’s book.” He huffed a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his temple. “No, the client I’m dealing with. Complete nightmare. I’m technically marked as absent and yet they’ve decided today is the perfect day to need everything from me. Everything. Like the rest of my team just collectively forgot how to think without me.”

You frowned. “Wait, they’re contacting you now? I thought you weren’t on call?” “I’m not,” he said, voice tight. “But apparently my senior colleagues are allergic to solving things on their own. And this client–” he cut himself off, then muttered under his breath, “not even a fucking day of peace.” You raised a brow at the rare slip in language. “Sunghoon.” “I know,” he said, eyes flicking over to you with a faint grimace. “Sorry. I just–I really needed this trip. I wanted to turn everything off and just breathe, you know? But now I’ve spent the last hour writing emails.” You reached out with your free hand, pressing your fingers lightly to the back of his arm in silent reassurance “I get it,” you murmured. “Really. And… for the record? You’re allowed to be mad. You work harder than half the people I know.” He shook his head slightly, lips curving into something tired. “Coming from you, that’s saying something.” You smiled faintly and leaned back against the cushions, careful not to disturb the sleeping toddler. ──────────────────────── The house had settled into that kind of stillness only rain could bring. Outside, water tapped gently against the windows, and inside, nearly everyone had retreated to their rooms or dozed off somewhere across the couch-filled landscape of the winter garden and living room. The only sounds left were the occasional creak of the old roof beams and the faint hum of Bluey reruns still playing on loop. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

But between the warmth of the blanket, Haneul’s little body curled into your chest, and the rhythmic clacking of Sunghoon’s keyboard across from you, your eyes had fluttered shut. The last thing you remembered was thinking I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute. When you woke again, the light had shifted, softer now, dimmer. Late afternoon. Your head felt heavy against the sofa cushion, and Haneul was still curled into your front, snuffling quietly in her sleep. You didn’t move yet, not wanting to disturb her. Sunghoon was still there. Still working. Still typing. He looked up the moment your breathing changed, gaze softening as it landed on you. “Hey,” he said, voice quiet. “You’re awake.” You blinked at him, still halfway between dream and reality.

He leaned forward and, with gentle fingers, brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek. The touch was fleeting but warm, and it made your chest ache in that familiar way. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmured. You made a low noise in your throat, the closest thing to a protest you could muster. “No. I gotta… study. A little.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval, leaning back into his corner of the sofa again. “You’re impossible.” You cracked one eye open. “You’re working too, Park. Don’t throw stones from your glass house.” That earned a small, reluctant laugh from him. “Touché. Without moving too much, careful not to jostle Haneul, you reached to your side and grabbed your iPad, placing it on the throw pillow next to you. Your thumb opened your note app with practiced ease, screen glowing softly in the dim room. You balanced it on your knee and leaned your chin against the top of Haneul’s head.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything more. Just returned to his laptop, fingers dancing across the keys, the occasional sigh slipping through his nose.

Hours later you sat curled in the corner of the bench, legs tucked beneath you and the blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. The rain beat gently against the windows of the winter garden, the soft patter rhythmic and constant. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out there, long enough for your tea to go cold and your thoughts to grow heavy. So much of your life has been made up of early mornings, late nights, bright lights, white coats, cold coffee. And now, watching your friends build lives around you, with children, with partners, with memories you weren’t part of, you wondered if you had ever truly lived at all. Or if you just... worked. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, knees tucked to your chest, trying to chase away the cold that wasn’t really from the rain. You hadn’t meant to think about the what-ifs again, but somehow, watching Sunghoon be so soft with you and Haneul all day, made you feel nostalgic for something you never had. He would’ve been a good dad. A quiet shuffle of feet behind you made you blink. You didn’t have to look. You knew it was him.

Sunghoon sat beside you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. The bench shifted under his weight. “Penny for a thought?” he asked gently. You didn’t answer at first. Just stared out into the night. “I always thought we’d get married,” you said eventually, voice smaller than you meant it to be. “I thought we’d have a kid by now.” He didn’t answer for a long moment, just let his gaze follow yours into the wet dark beyond the glass.

“I know,” he said. “I thought that too.” You finally turned to look at him. His profile was shadowed, the dim lights of the living room catching in his lashes, in the soft fall of his hair. “I had a whole proposal planned,” he continued. “In Vietnam, you know that trip we were planning? I was gonna pretend we were just taking pictures at sunset, hand you the camera, and when you turned around… I’d be on one knee.” You let out a shaky breath. “That sounds like something you’d do.” “Cheesy?” “Yeah. I would have loved it.” He laughed under his breath. “I thought so.”

You were quiet for a long moment, then said, “I’m sorry.” He looked at you, brows drawing slightly together. “I’m sorry for putting work ahead of everything. For choosing my studies over us. For shutting you out.” You paused, breath catching in your chest. “I thought I could balance it all. But I couldn’t. And then I didn’t know how to tell you that without feeling like I was failing at everything.” His gaze softened. “Y/N…” Your throat tightened and you had to fight the tears already. “I never stopped being proud of you,” he said quietly. “Even after everything. Even when you disappeared on us. I admired the hell out of what you’re doing. You’re literally helping people survive. I could never do what you do.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand. I’m not–” You swallowed. “Jay. I let Jay down. I let Minhee down.” He turned to face you more fully. “What?” Your fingers twisted into the edge of the blanket. “Minhee. She–” You exhaled shakily. “I know it wasn’t my fault, I know that rationally. But every time I see Haneul, all I can think is… maybe I did something wrong. Maybe if I had caught something earlier or said something–” “Y/N.”

“–or checked her labs again, or called the OB sooner–" “Y/N,” he said again, firmer this time, but not unkind. “You know it wasn’t your fault.” “I do,” you whispered. “But that doesn’t make it feel any less like it is.” He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because we had just broken up,” you said. “Like, just. And I didn’t want to burden you. You were trying to move on. And I felt like I was breaking into a thousand pieces. I kept telling myself I deserved it. That I couldn’t hold onto you and try to be this version of myself I thought I had to become. And you had to be there for Jay. His girlfriend just died and he had a newborn at home. And I couldn't bear being around him or her. I was too afraid he thought I was responsible, even if I wasn't.” “I would’ve dropped everything,” Sunghoon said, and his voice cracked slightly. “If I had known, I would’ve been there. No questions asked. Heeseung was there for Jay. Jake was too. His and Minhees parents. I could have been there for you.” You closed your eyes. “I wanted to call you. I did. A hundred times. But I thought… it would just make it worse.” He looked away, swiping a hand over his face. “I hate myself for not trying harder. For not asking. For just letting you go.” You exhaled slowly. “Do you think we would’ve made it?" He paused for a second. “Yeah,” he said. “If we’d had the time.”

Sunghoon was quiet for a moment again. Then he looked at you more fully, like he was trying to find the pieces of the girl you used to be underneath all the weight you carried now. “I never told you this,” he said softly, “but I used to love watching you dream. You were so sure about everything. Med school. Family. How you were going to do it all.” He paused. “Even when I didn’t believe in myself, I believed in you.” You closed your eyes, because if you didn’t you might really cry this time. “You know,” you whispered, “I feel like I’ve been running nonstop. And now that I’m here… I realize I haven’t really lived. I’ve just… worked.” He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. “I wanted to be with you,” you added, more quietly. “But I didn’t know how to let myself stop. Even now, the thought of having free time makes me anxious.”

He shifted slightly. “I think… we were both overwhelmed. I kept thinking it was just a phase. That we’d get through it.” “I should’ve fought harder for you.” “I should’ve known you needed help.” His hand found yours, slowly, uncertainly, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers slid into his, warm and familiar. You turned toward him, your faces closer than they’d been in years. It would’ve been so easy. “We shouldn’t…” you began, voice trembling, uncertain. Sunghoon’s voice was low, steady, but there was a faint, familiar ache beneath it. “You remember when we weren’t supposed to kiss in your room? Back in high school?” Your breath caught.

You nodded, just barely. “We still did.” His lips quirked, but it wasn’t quite a smile. It was something softer. Sadder. Full of things unsaid. “Yeah. We still did.” His hand, warm and tentative, slid up your arm. A slow touch, like he was memorizing the shape of you all over again. Your skin tingled where his fingers passed, your breath tightening in your chest. There was a pause. A heartbeat. Then he leaned in.

You met him halfway. The first brush of his lips was featherlight. A ghost of contact. Barely there. You surged forward without thinking, lips slotting against his with years of yearning pressed into the space between you. His hand rose to your jaw, thumb grazing your cheekbone as he angled his head, deepening the kiss with.  His mouth was soft but certain, moving over yours like he already knew how you liked to be kissed, because he did. There was no rush, no hesitation, just heat blooming slow and deep between you as your hands found the front of his sweater, curling into the fabric, anchoring yourself to him. You shifted closer, your knees brushing his, blanket forgotten as your body tilted into his space. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck now, his fingers sliding into your hair, holding you steady as his other hand gripped your waist, grounding you. You made a quiet sound, when his teeth grazed your bottom lip. It had been so long. Too long. You’d forgotten how it felt to be wanted like this. To want like this. When you finally pulled away, your breathing was uneven, lips kiss-bitten and your heart in your throat.

You didn’t move far. Just far enough to rest your forehead against his, eyes closed, trying to gather yourself. “Sunghoon,” you breathed. It was all you could manage. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to–” “Don’t apologize,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I wanted to.” He nodded slowly, his breath warm against your cheek. For a long, fragile moment, neither of you moved. Then you exhaled shakily and leaned into him, your cheek resting against his chest, listening to the quiet thump of his heart. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation, one circling your back, the other rubbing slow, grounding strokes up and down your spine. “Come to bed,” he said after a moment. 

Your gaze wandered to your Ipad again.  “Y/N,” Sunghoon said again, gently. “Come inside?” You shook your head against his chest. “I can’t.” There was a pause, long and quiet. “I think,” you continued slowly, carefully, “if I lie down now, I might actually go crazy. Just for a bit. I… need to be on my own.” Sunghoon didn’t speak right away.  “Are you sure?” he asked, low. You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll come in later.” He lingered for another beat before carefully pushing you off his chest, reaching for the blanket and draping it over your shoulders. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll leave the door open.” You managed a small smile, just enough to make him go.

The quiet that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was taut. Sharp. You felt like a wire pulled tight, humming with tension, unable to let go. You didn’t cry or move. You just sat there with your thoughts screaming and the rain falling and the cold slowly sinking in. Eventually, hours later, exhaustion became heavier than the noise in your chest. It didn’t quiet the buzzing under your skin, but it dulled it. You stood up slowly, stiff and aching, and crept back inside. The house was dark and still.  You padded past the living room and paused. Sunghoon. He was asleep on the couch, arms crossed, head tilted back awkwardly against the armrest. Your heart cracked a little.

You crossed the room carefully and crouched beside him, brushing your fingers lightly against his arm. “Sunghoon,” you whispered. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” He blinked awake groggily, frowning like a confused toddler. “Y/N? Are you done?" You nodded, though it was only half-true. “Yeah. For today. Come on, let’s go upstairs.” You rubbed your eyes as you climbed the stairs, limbs heavy, thoughts slow and grainy. Sunghoon followed silently behind you, both of you lit only by the soft hallway light someone had left on. The house creaked with wind and sleep. When you entered your shared room, you automatically turned toward your own bed, but before you even made it halfway, his hand caught your wrist. You glanced back at him. His hair was a mess, his sweater wrinkled from the couch, his eyes soft in the dim light. There was no question in them. Just quiet certainty. The same kind he always used to have when he knew exactly what you needed before you did. He didn’t say anything, but gently pulled you towards his bed. You didn’t even hesitate. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to crawl in beside him. His arms settled around you like they never forgot how to, one draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. You rested your cheek against his chest, his warmth bleeding into your skin. His heartbeat was steady today, unrushed. ──────────────────────── Seoul greeted you with dull skies and even more rain. The drive back had been quiet. Peaceful. Haneul had napped for most of it. You rested too, half-asleep with your head against the window, the lull of the road and Sunghoon’s soft humming lulling you into a strange kind of calm.  The car slowed in front of your apartment. Jay helped unload your bag from the trunk while Sunghoon stood by, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, his hair still mussed from sleep. Haneul, finally awake again, reached for you as Jay hoisted her up and you kissed her cheek, brushing her fever-warmed curls from her forehead. “Text me if she gets worse,” you said softly, and Jay nodded. Sunghoon lingered behind as Jay buckled Haneul back in. He didn’t say much, just held your gaze for a second too long. “I’ll see you soon?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. Soon.” There was so much more you wanted to say. But not here. Not now. You gave them both a small wave and turned toward the building. ──────────────────────── The elevator ride up felt longer than usual.  You dumped your bag, took a quick shower, and pulled your scrubs out of the drawer. It was already getting dark when you finished meal prepping for your nightshift. Seoul pulsed around you, busy and bright, and for once, you didn’t feel entirely swallowed by it.  A few hours later the fluorescent lights buzzed above you, sterile and far too bright. The ward was quiet tonight. You sat at the small desk near the nurses’ station, soft white light illuminating the open binder in front of you. The gynecology wing always had this strange hush at night, even with the occasional monitor beeping, and the distant hum of a cleaning machine.  You had just made your rounds, charted vitals, answered two sleepy buzzers, checked one incision site. Everything was fine. Calm. And yet, you felt like you might break. You blinked, slowly. Your limbs were heavy. Not because you were tired physically you were drained mentally. Your eyes wandered toward the window, where the sky was still black and the city lights blurred through mist. This was the life you had built, wasn’t it? Clean. Efficient. Hard-earned. You were good at this. You were doing everything right.

And still. Still, the ache didn’t go away. You rubbed at your eyes and tried to focus on the chart in front of you, but your thoughts slipped back to him.

To Sunghoon. You sighed. Being with him had felt so easy. So natural. His hand against your spine, his voice calling you inside, his quiet laugh when Haneul demanded your attention. His warmth at night.

You swallowed thickly. You had rested. Really rested. And now, sitting under fluorescent lights again, cold coffee untouched, you felt the absence of it so sharply it almost hurt. The thought of going home to your apartment, to Jaemin and the cats, made your stomach twist. You weren't lonely, no.

You were longing. For the life you hadn’t let yourself have. You could’ve had this. You could’ve had him. If only you hadn’t kept choosing the next task. The next round. The next shift. The next exam. You had kept saying later, later, later. And then later became never. Now, in the quiet lull of the gynecology wing, with healthy babies sleeping peacefully just down the hall, you sat and wondered if you had let your whole life pass by in the name of responsibility. A baby cried softly in the distance. You stood, checked your watch, and made your way down the hall with steady steps.

You were good at this. But you weren’t sure anymore if it was enough ──────────────────────── Two days later the taxi dropped you off just past ten pm. You hadn’t even texted ahead. Your body was still aching from your shift at the hospital today. It wasn’t a particularly hard one but you felt drained. You just wanted to go home. But not to your apartment. Not to Jaemin and the cats. Not to the stack of unread medical journals and the untouched laundry. You climbed the front steps to Sunghoon’s house slowly, heart pounding hard enough that you could hear it in your ears. You hesitated for only a second before knocking, not only because it was late, but because what you were going to do might be more than stupid. The door opened, and his mother’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Y/N?” “Hi,” you said, voice smaller than intended. You felt suddenly too casual in your hoodie and jeans, hair still damp. “I… Is Sunghoon home?” She blinked, recovering quickly. “Yes, of course, he just got back from a work dinner not long ago. He’s upstairs. Come in.”

You stepped into the hallway, offering a quiet “Thank you,” before climbing the stairs with shaky knees. You stopped in front of his door and raised your hand to knock, hesitated, but did it anyway. There was a shuffling sound, then the door opened a crack. He was undoing his tie, sleeves already rolled up, hair slightly tousled like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His eyes landed on you, and he froze. “…Y/N?” Your throat tightened. “I–” you started, then stopped. You blinked at him. 

You laughed, but it came out broken. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said quickly, words tumbling out faster than your brain could filter them. “I just– I finished my shift, and I was walking to the station and I couldn’t go home, I just– I kept thinking about you, and that trip, and how I felt like I could finally breathe and laugh and sleep for the first time in months, years, really–” You were rambling. You knew you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop. “I missed you,” you said. “I missed you so much it physically hurts sometimes, and I’ve been pretending I’m fine and that my work is enough and that I don’t need anything else, but it’s not true. I miss waking up next to you. I miss fighting over takeout menus. I miss your laugh, and how you always steal my side of the blanket." Sunghoon just stared at you, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry I shut you out. I was scared. I thought I had to be this perfect version of myself and I pushed you away thinking it was the right thing, and now I just feel like I ruined everything.” You looked down at your hands.

“I know it’s not fair,” you said. “And I know it’s going to be hard. I have my exam in February, and things won’t suddenly be easy. But if you’d let me, if there’s even a small part of you that still wants this, I’d love to try again. I want to try to be better. To be someone who doesn’t run. To be your girlfriend again.” You hadn’t realized you were crying until his hands cupped your face. “Stop rambling, Y/N,” he said, voice low. And then he kissed you. All the air left your lungs at once. It wasn’t a desperate kiss, or a rushed one. It was slow. Familiar. Steady in a way you hadn’t felt in months. His lips moved against yours like they remembered every detail. His thumb brushed under your eye, catching a stray tear. When he pulled back, your hands had found their way into his shirt. “I would love to try again,” he whispered, forehead against yours.

You laughed softly, tears still running down your cheeks. “Are you sure? I come with a lot of baggage.” He smiled. “You always did.” You swatted at his shoulder. “Rude.” But his arms tightened around you. “I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t care how hard it is. Or how messy. I just want you. Whatever you can give me, I want it.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest. His heartbeat was steady under your ear. “I don’t want to go home,” you whispered.

“Then don’t.” You stood there for a long moment, wrapped in his arms like no time had passed at all. Eventually, he tugged you inside the room and closed the door behind you. “Come on,” he said gently. “You look like you need food and sleep in that exact order.” “I need a lot of things,” you said. “But sleep next to you sounds like a good start.” He gave you one of his shirts, a pair of shorts and a towel, to dry your face after you’ve washed it. When you stepped back into his room, Sunghoon was already under the blanket, hair messy, expression soft. You crawled in beside him and sighed as his arm wrapped around you. His warmth seeped into your skin instantly, and for a long moment, you didn’t move.

“This is so nice,” you mumbled into his chest. “Sleeping next to you.” “You used to complain that I snore,” he said softly.

You smiled. “You do.” He chuckled, fingers gently brushing along your arm under the blanket. A few quiet minutes passed like that. “Your mom’s probably already calling my mom. Bet she thinks there’s finally a realistic chance of sturdy grandkids now.”, you said, readjusting your head on his chest. Sunghoon snorted but then he stilled. And when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost careful. “Would you want that?” he asked. “Kids… with me?” Your heart gave a small lurch. You blinked slowly, shifting so you could look at him in the dark. His eyes were on you. You swallowed. “Honestly?” You nodded. “I can’t imagine having kids with anyone else.” He exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath. You tucked your face back into his chest. “It’s not something I’m ready for. Not now. I don’t even know when I’ll be ready. But… if it ever happens… I’d want it to be with you.” His arms tightened slightly around you. “If this works out again, really works, I’d love that too. Just not right now. Not while you’re barely sleeping and fighting your way through hospital chaos and studying every free second.” You let out a breath. He wasn’t just saying what you wanted to hear. He meant it. You knew him well enough to tell. “I really would love that,” you murmured.

“I want you to have what you’ve worked for,” he said. “Your dream. Your degree. Your own timeline. I’ll support you through all of it. No matter what.” You blinked back the sudden pressure in your chest and reached for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his beneath the blanket. “Hoon…,” you whispered, not knowing what to say without breaking down in tears. “I’m not going anywhere and I won’t let you ever again,” he promised. And you believed him.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty

all feedback and reblogs are welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ my masterlist ⭑.ᐟ --⟢ PART 2

ᝰ taglist. @enhastolemyheart @dreamiestay @elairah @vviolynn @engenemilia  @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @mangoescrazy @seokjinthescientist @ddolleri

ᝰ an. ₊ ⊹  dear anons, I hope it was alright I mixed your requests and you enjoyed reading the story, even if I might not have encapsulated your request fully! Burnout is a shit thing to experience. If you feel like you are close to burning out, do take a break. Really. Do. No deadline or test is worth your mental and physical health.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Paigey, Belly, and Me

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Single Mom!Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: one birthday sign, a mom’s crush and three months later

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @defntkaizer , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elalfywhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @liloandstitchstan , @kaliblazin , @marleymarleymarleymarley , @latenighttalkinqwp , @atimelessheaven , @wbbszn

If someone had told me back in May that a bold, glitter-covered sign would change my entire life, I would have laughed.

But three months later, here I was,

August 20th, 2025, with Paige Bueckers’ number in my phone, her name in my heart, and my five-year-old daughter insisting on calling her “Paigey” like they were teammates.

The months in between had been… magical, messy, and everything in between.

Our first date happened in early June, thanks to Belly being Belly. Paige had texted me one morning:

Paige: I have dinner reservations. I think Belly already RSVP’d for me.

Me: She didn’t.

Paige: She told me to wear something cute “because Mommy’s worth it.”

I’d nearly dropped my phone.

We went out for sushi. Paige insisted on picking us up, even bringing Belly a purple balloon tied to her wrist.

At one point Belly had asked, “So are you my mommy’s girlfriend yet?” right there between bites of California roll.

Paige had turned pink. I nearly choked on my water.

“Not yet,” Paige told her gently, smiling across the table at me. “But maybe one day soon.”

Belly clapped like Paige had just won the championship.

By July, Paige was in the middle of her rookie season grind. The Wings weren’t winning much, but Belly and I watched every single game.

Belly had developed her own “pregame ritual,” which included setting Waffles, her stuffed unicorn, in front of the TV “for good luck.”

When Paige got hurt in a game, Belly sobbed for an hour.

She made me drive her to Target the next morning to buy glitter glue and paper so she could mail Paige a “get better soon” card.

“Make sure she knows I love her even if she can’t dribble right now,” Belly told me seriously, handing me the crooked envelope.

Paige FaceTimed her the next night from the team hotel.

“Wow, Belly bean,” Paige said, holding the card up to the camera. “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me. Think it’s gonna heal me faster.”

Belly grinned so wide I thought her cheeks would split. “Told you, Mommy.”

Now, here we are in August, Belly had Paige wrapped around her tiny glitter-painted finger.

Paige had started sneaking us tickets whenever the Wings were close enough for us to drive or fly.

We always sat low in the stands, Belly in her tutu jersey, me nervously clutching a foam finger.

Paige would always find us before warmups, tapping her chest twice, then pointing at Belly like it was their secret code.

I didn’t tell Paige that Belly practiced it in the mirror at least twice a week.

As for me… I was falling.

Quietly, clumsily, but undeniably falling.

Paige didn’t push, and I didn’t rush, but the way she looked at me sometimes,

like I was the lucky one made my chest ache in the best way.

We’d flown into LA that morning. Since, Paige had surprised us with tickets again, this time against the Sparks.

Belly had screamed when she found out.

And it was on hello kitty night too.

“She’s the best, Mommy. Like, even better than apple juice!”

That was the highest honor in Belly’s universe.

By the time we got to Crypto Arena, the buzz was unreal.

The Wings were struggling record-wise, but Paige’s rookie year was already drawing headlines.

Everyone wanted to see what she’d do tonight.

Belly bounced in her seat, tutu swishing, sneakers lighting up. “Mommy, what if Paigey scores like a hundred?”

I laughed. “Then we’ll need to get her two cakes after the game.”

When Paige ran out for warmups, she spotted us instantly. Belly jumped out of her chair, waving both arms.

Paige tapped her chest twice, pointed at us, then winked.

The game itself was electric.

From the jump, Paige was in her bag.

Step-backs, floaters, no-look passes it was like watching Belly’s “basketball princess with powers” come to life.

By halftime, she had 25 points. Belly screamed every time. “THAT’S MY PAIGEY!”

The fans around us laughed. One older woman leaned over and said, “Honey, I think your little girl’s her biggest cheerleader.”

I smiled. “Second biggest.”

By the final buzzer, the scoreboard read: Sparks 81, Wings 80.

My heart sank for the loss.

But once again Paige had broken records.

44 points… a new Dallas Wings franchise record, a WNBA rookie scoring record, and the most points by any player this season-all by thee Paige Bueckers, herself.

The crowd roared. Belly lost her mind. “MOMMY SHE BROKE THE GAME!”

I had tears in my eyes. I was so proud I thought I’d burst.

We found ourselves near the tunnel afterward, Belly clutching Waffles and bouncing with excitement.

Paige jogged over, still sweaty, still glowing.

“There’s my girls,” she said, pulling Belly into a hug.

“You broke it!” Belly shrieked. “You scored like… forever points!”

Paige laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “All for you, Belly bean.”

I froze at the casual affection, warmth spreading through me.

Arike came jogging up, towel around her shoulders. “Well damn, Paige. Career night and the career crush all in the same building?”

Paige groaned. “Rike…”

Arike smirked, looking at me. “When are y’all just gonna admit it already?”

My cheeks burned. “Arike—”

But Paige cut in smoothly. She turned to me, eyes sparkling, and said, “What if we already did that?”

My breath caught.

Before I could respond, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

Time stopped.

Belly gasped, clutching Waffles. “Where’s MY kiss?”

Paige laughed, swooping her up and kissing her forehead. “There you go, princess.”

We were all still laughing when we climbed the steps toward the team bus.

What we didn’t notice was someone a few rows back, phone held high, recording the entire interaction.

By the time we got back to the hotel, my phone was buzzing like it had caught fire.

Notifications stacked on top of each other.

Belly was half-asleep in my arms, so I set her down gently on the bed before checking.

Twitter. Instagram. TikTok. Everywhere.

Someone had posted the video with the caption:

“Paige Bueckers sets career-high 44 points… and walks off like THIS? 👀👀👀 #WNBA”

The clip showed it all…the hug, the cheek kiss, Paige kissing Belly’s forehead.

Already, millions of views.

Hundreds of comments.

“She’s dating a mom??? I ship.”

“That’s the Belly Bean girl from the birthday sign!!!”

“Omg Paige is stepmom goals.”

“They look so happy.”

“Protect them at all costs.”

My heart raced.

Paige’s text came through seconds later.

Paige: Don’t freak out.

Me: Too late.

Paige: I’ll come up.

A knock at the door followed a minute later.

Paige stepped in, hair damp from her postgame shower, hoodie swallowed over her frame.

She looked at me, then at Belly sprawled across the bed, and softened instantly.

“She’s out cold,” I whispered.

Paige smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Belly’s forehead. “She’s perfect.” Then she turned to me. “So are you.”

I swallowed. “Paige… the video. Everyone’s talking.”

“I know,” she said calmly. “But here’s the thing — we don’t owe anyone an explanation. Not the media. Not the fans. Not even my team. This is ours. Yours, mine, and Belly’s. And I want to keep it that way.”

I exhaled shakily. “So we just… say nothing?”

“Exactly. We enjoy what we have. We protect it. We let people talk if they want, but we don’t let them in unless we’re ready.”

Her hand brushed mine. My pulse jumped.

“And when you’re ready,” she added softly, “I want to be more than just the crush mom your daughter announced to the world. I want to be official. Your girlfriend. Belly’s Paigey. All of it.”

I stared at her, heart pounding. “You already are.”

The smallest smile spread across her face the kind that made her blue eyes shine like summer.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

Belly stirred in her sleep just then, mumbling something about “apple juice and Paigey hoops.” We both laughed quietly.

Paige kissed my temple and whispered, “Honeymoon phase, right? Let’s stay here as long as we can.”

And just like that, I knew I was in deeper than I’d ever been.

By morning, the video had nearly 20 million views. Headlines everywhere:

“Paige Bueckers’ Mystery Mom Crush Revealed?”

“WNBA’s newest power couple?”

“Paige breaks rookie record AND hearts.”

Neither of us said a word. No denials, no confirmations.

Just quiet texts and FaceTimes, private laughter, and Belly dragging Waffles into every call.

And for now, that was enough.

Because sometimes the best love stories didn’t need the whole world’s approval…just a little girl with a unicorn, a basketball princess with sneakers and powers, and a mom who finally let herself believe in magic again.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[sinnerinwonderland]

When The Noise Fades.

› Pairing → Jannik Sinner x Tennis Player! Female Reader.

› Summary → Two players brought to their knees by different storms — one accused, one broken — find each other in the silence left behind, and discover that sometimes survival feels like love.

› Word Count → 1.8k.

› a/n → Request made by this very kind and patient anon (again, i'm so sorry for the delay :( I hope you enjoy it! 💞)

— The world didn’t go quiet all at once, it began with a statement — two unremarkable paragraphs buried deep in a WADA press release that dropped on a lazy March afternoon.

A few tennis accounts spotted it first: a redacted name, a date, a flagged test. Then came the confirmation: Jannik Sinner, doping violation, Indian Wells, trace amounts of clostebol — the result of a contaminated ointment, entirely accidental, entirely out of his control. Someone else hadn’t been careful, and now he had to bear the consequences.

The story spread like wildfire, quick, merciless, and hungry. You hadn’t been close to him, not really — not part of his team or the media circling his tournaments, just another young player clawing for a foothold in a sport that often looked at you like you didn’t belong.

You’d crossed paths once, backstage at a charity event — a hello in passing, nothing more, though it had been enough for him to remember your name when you waved across the room.

Still, your chest tightened when you saw the headlines. You watched the coverage unfold with brutal efficiency: media swinging from praise to suspicion, rivals delivering thinly veiled jabs, forums dissecting every word of the three-month ban.

You had watched him play — seen him lose with grace, win with quiet gratitude, and heard the catch in his voice after five-set marathons. He always kept his head down, did the work, thanked the crowd in three languages, and slipped away without spectacle. That was not the man you believed capable of cheating.

So you sent him a message, short and deliberate, without intrusion:

Hey… I know we don’t really know each other, but I just wanted to say I believe you. I’m sorry the world doesn’t.

You didn’t expect a reply, but one came by morning:

Grazie. That really… means a lot. More than I can explain.

— Weeks passed, the headlines didn’t stop, and the noise didn’t fade, it just shifted in tone.

Kyrgios posted something biting, Wawrinka let a subtle jab slip in an interview, forums mocked the verdict, and memes spread. He stayed silent, carefully measured statements only, his presence defined by absence. Yet your messages grew into a steady thread the outside world couldn’t touch.

At first, weekly texts — a silly meme, a fan-made parody of his serve. Sometimes a reply days later, a heart emoji, nothing else.

Slowly, something softened over time. One night he wrote:

I miss the noise, even the annoying kind. The camera shutters, the tunnel chatter, the sound of my shoes on court...

You sent him an eight-hour loop of Australian Open crowd noise. He told you it made him cry.

At 2:00 a.m., another text:

People think I’m spoiled, that I got off easy. But I didn’t do anything, I didn’t take anything. I didn’t cheat, and yet they look at me like I did, even those I thought would stand by me.

You:

I believe you.

I’ll believe you even when it’s not convenient.

Sinner 🦊:

You’re the only one who says that without asking for anything. I’m not used to that.

Eventually, the texts became FaceTime calls — brief at first, five minutes, then twenty, then an hour. You learned the rhythm of his late-night thoughts, the pauses before he said what he wasn’t sure he should.

One night he admitted what you had suspected, the fear that the label — cheater, liar, fraud — would follow him forever, cling like a stain even when he returned. He fell quiet after saying it, gaze down, hands fidgeting with his sweatshirt cuff, voice soft and fragile. All you wanted was to cross the distance, hold him steady with both hands, and keep him from unraveling entirely.

— Rome — May 2025.

His name was called, and the court came alive, or something like it.

The applause was polite, uneven, a few voices rising above the rest, but there was no wall of sound, no rush of belonging. Somewhere in the stands, someone murmured under their breath; he could feel the shape of it, even if the words didn’t reach him.

The reporters had been the same all week, questions lacquered with courtesy, each hiding a blade beneath the varnish, while commentators spoke of him like a cautionary tale, tones careful, almost brittle — as if unsure whether to use his name or just refer to the incident.

He stepped onto the clay, the familiar crunch beneath his shoes both foreign and achingly known — the air smelling faintly of sunscreen, dust, and the wet metallic tang left from last night’s rain.

Then, he saw you.

Not in the player’s box, not in a team-branded hoodie, nor crouched behind a camera lens — just you, hair catching the afternoon light, eyes steady on him, and clapping in a way that felt whole, not polite, not perfunctory, but like you believed he belonged there.

It caught him off guard, the noise around him blurring at the edges. For a moment, the whispers, the watchful stares, the loaded questions — all of it — thinned into nothing.

He closed his eyes before the first serve, let the weight settle in his shoulders, and for the first time in months, his mind didn’t spiral toward the ban, the headlines, or the stain he feared would never wash away. Instead, it landed on you — the girl who hadn’t flinched, who hadn’t bargained, who had stayed when everything else peeled away.

And with that, he tossed the ball into the sky.

— New York — Night Session, Arthur Ashe Stadium.

It should have been the pinnacle — a Grand Slam semifinal under the lights, twenty-three thousand people filling the arena with heat and noise — the kind of moment you’d chased ever since the first time a racquet sat in your palm.

It was war from the first ball — nearly three hours of relentless points, a deciding-set tiebreak, one match point down. Every return was a climb, every swing a defiance, and then, magic — a blistering cross-court shot, a roar like a wave crashing, and your racquet slipping from your hand as victory broke over you.

But you didn’t rise from the court.

In the moment you lunged for that final ball, your leg twisted beneath you at the wrong angle — the wrong second, and pain ripped through your body, sharp and merciless, pulling a scream from somewhere deep. The stadium noise collapsed into a silence that didn’t belong in a moment like this.

They carried you off, and from the players’ lounge, Jannik watched — fists clenched until his knuckles ached, face pale as you clutched your knee and bit back sobs.

The same cold that had wrapped around him months ago now wrapped around you, only this time it came with a brace, and no amount of rehab could erase it overnight.

Technically, you’d won, but didn't get to play the final.

The doctor confirmed what you already knew: a partial ligament tear — not career-ending, but a sentence nonetheless. Weeks of recovery, and months before you’d trust the leg again.

On paper, a Grand Slam finalist. In reality, absent from the match that mattered most.

The press called it “tragic,” “heartbreaking,” as if pain were poetic. None of them saw the silence — the way you avoided mirrors, ignored calls, and sat alone in your apartment post-surgery, watching the final you should have played, eyes empty.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly, and his name appeared:

Jan 🦊🧡:

Let me come.

You didn’t reply. He came anyway.

Jannik found you curled on the couch, hoodie pulled over your knees like armor — his old frayed Nike hoodie from Rome, clay still ghosting the fabric. He knelt before you, hands resting lightly over the brace on your knee, and for a long moment, didn’t speak.

“Why are you here?” you whispered, voice fragile.

His gaze was steady. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shook your head, brittle. “It’s pathetic. I won, and it doesn’t even feel like I did.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t play the final, didn’t lift a trophy, didn’t even shake hands–” your voice cracked.

He reached for your hand, grounding you.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” you murmured, quieter. “I know I should be grateful, that it wasn’t worse, but I’ve never felt this broken, Jannik…”

He didn’t flinch, only listened. And then — in the rare, soft way he spoke as if the world couldn’t reach both of you — he said, “You were there when the world turned on me. You stayed. So now I stay.”

You blinked, caught unguarded.

“I know what it’s like,” he added, “when the noise fades and all you hear is the voice saying you’re not enough.”

Your breath hitched, heart clutching inside your chest.

“I also know it’s not true.”

— Six months later, Melbourne.

You stepped onto a main court again, different surface, different city — the summer heat pressing down like a weight, and the air humming with cicadas and expectation.

The blue court stretched before you — polished to a glare, and almost ceremonial in the way it caught the lights.

When the announcer called your name, it still felt strange, like it belonged to the version of yourself who had never been broken.

But it was you, still you. A knee held together by surgery and patience, tendons retrained through months of sweat, pain, and quiet discipline — scars part of the uniform now.

Above Rod Laver Arena, in her player’s box, was Jannik — copper curls loose, elbows resting on his knees, and thumbs tapping in an idle rhythm. Cameras lingered, whispers rippled, and Instagram lit up:

“Wait– is that Sinner in her box?”

“Soft launch confirmed?”

You looked up once during warm-up and caught him watching with the same steady calm he carried on court — the kind that made the rest of the world fall away.

Your eyes met like the breath before a serve, held long enough for the intimacy to be perceptible from miles away — no nod, no wave, only understanding passing between you: he’d made it through his storm because of you, and now it was his turn to return the favor.

The match wasn’t flawless — first serves clipped the net, your grip betrayed a hint of nerves, and midway through the second set, your knee wobbled just enough to catch on camera.

In the box, Jannik’s fingers curled tight over the armrest, as if willing the pain away. Still, you pressed on — rallies stretched long, sweat streaking your temples, and between points, you smiled, not because it was easy, but because you were there, because you had returned.

When match point came, you took it clean — a cross-court forehand slicing the heat itself, no collapse, no tears. You stood tall, shook your opponent’s hand, faced the crowd with eyes bright but unbroken, and then finally glanced up at him —pressing your hand over your heart.

Jannik’s smile came slow and unguarded, entirely yours.

Let them speculate, stitch together timelines, and whisper behind press walls — it didn’t matter.

You both knew what silence once felt like, but now the noise was back, and neither of you would face it alone.

[orimuraa]

• I’m where I’m meant to be - 심재윤 ↳ ┊: i see the light - mandy moore, zachary levi

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆a modern day take on rapunzel, featuring sim jake—the better flynn rider ⨾

۶ৎ theif!jake x good girl!reader┆fluff, romcom┆petnames, kisses, cursing. mentions of theft, he falls first and he falls harder┆wc 1.3k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ok this is inspired by one of my classmates who was brushing her long hair in class and it reminded me of rapunzel and then jake and then yeah…everyone thank my wonderful classmate for the creation of this fic….i hope you guys like it ><

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

sim jaeyun was a pick pocketer, known for his stealth and incredible skill. he was also extremely handsome, making women the victims of both a stolen heart, and a stolen valuable.

but when he tried to pick pocket you, he made his first mistake.

you were sitting on the park bench, brushing your long, brown hair that fell right below your waist, subtle waves adding volume and perfection to the look. you ran the hairbrush through your locks so gracefully, like it was nothing.

and somehow, a girl sitting on a bench, brushing her long hair, made jake fumble.

he attempted to sneak up from behind you, using the bushes as his cover, ready to unclasp your vivienne westwood necklace, when you suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your perfectly pink lips.

fuck, you were so pretty. your gorgeous eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, the small mole that was delicately placed under your left eye, and the way your soft, full lips parted at the sight of him.

"what are you doing in the bushes?" your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head at him. jake was taken back by your question, fully expecting to get the police called on him, but no, you asked why he was in the bushes.

"i- fuck- there's no point in lying...i was gonna take your necklace," he winces, not completely sure why he was confessing that.

"oh," you frown, subconsciously raising your hand to check if your necklace was still there.

after an awkward moment of silence with jake still crouched in the bushes and you contemplating what just happened, your soft voice cut the silence.

"do you still want it?" you ask softly, almost like you felt guilty for catching him.

"what?! no! no- keep it! i shouldn't have tried to steal it anyway," jake exclaims, unsure as to why you offered it to him.

"oh..well i thought maybe you needed it to sell it for money to get food or something...in that case, you need it more than i do," you mumble. god, were you an angel?

"no! i really don't need it. i'm sorry i tried to take it from you, i'm actually very financially stable," jake panics, unsure if he should just leave, or stay and make things right.

you hum, pause for a second, and then say: "is that because you steal often?"

"fuck- no not at all! i actually have a job where i get paid well...fuck- i don't really even know why i steal," who knew a talk with a pretty girl in the park he just tried to rob could lead jake to question his life choices.

"how about you come over to my place and maybe we can talk this out some more?" you offer sweetly, mindlessly twirling a strand of hair between your fingers.

"you want me, the guy who just tried to rob you, to go over to your house?" jake repeats, baffled by your offer.

"well you just admitted to trying to steal from me, and you haven't run away yet, so i believe you're a good person who's just a bit lost, and i wanna help," you state, but jake was only half-listening. he was too distracted by how soft spoken and gentle you were with him, a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach.

"then let me give you a ride, rapunzel," he offers, nodding to his motorcycle.

"y/n."

"what?"

"my name's y/n, not rapunzel," you smile.

"whatever you say, rapunzel."

now, it wasn’t very realistic that a theif would fall for an angel, but here it was, sim jaeyun falling head over heels for the sweetest girl he’d ever met—sweeter than candy!

you gave him a second chance, forgiving him for his wrong actions and you tried to help him, giving him reasons why he shouldn’t steal anymore, and just enjoy the life he had in front of him.

and it all felt like deja vu again as he watched you from the kitchen stool, watching as you delicately brushed out you long, thick hair.

you noticed him staring at you, your motions faltering and eventually stopping.

“jakey? you alright?” you furrow, concerned about if he was okay.

“huh? oh- yeah i’m fine,” jake shakes his head, shaking out the thoughts of you from his mind.

“you just look like you’re thinking a bit too hard up there, hm?” you giggle, tapping your head with your pointer finger.

“mm, just thinking about how pretty you looked,” he bites his lip, a sudden warmth coating his cheeks. “can i help you sweets?”

you, being insanely flustered, nod shyly, handing the hair brush over to him.

he gently takes it from you, tapping your waist so you’ll turn around and sit right in front of him, letting him brush through your gorgeous locks.

"what did i ever do to deserve you, rapunzel," jake sighs, brushing out the last section of your hair.

"you tried to steal my necklace," you tease, giving him a big grin. jake swore he felt his heart stop, his breath hitching at how gorgeous you were. the way you smiled with your eyes too, the small dimples that would show up on your cute cheeks when you laughed, he loved it all.

"aghhh i knowww," he whines. "no need to keep bringing it up." he pouts, resembling an angry puppy.

"alright alright, sorry jakey," you laugh, patting his head lightly.

after a few minutes of silence, jake sat up and looked at you with an excited gleam in his eye.

"wanna go see the city lights?" he grins. it was well past sunset, meaning the lights of the city would be very visible. it had always been on your bucket list ever since you were young to go out on the hill that overlooked the city to gaze out at the illuminated city, but you were never able to due to the danger of it.

"really? you would do that for me?!" you exclaim, jumping up and down from excitement. a few days ago, jake had seen on your bucket list that you wanted to see the city lights at night time, and he was determined to help you check that one off.

"of course sweets. think of it as my payment for your kindness," he winks, sending butterflies through your body.

you quickly grab your sweatshirt, slip on your shoes, and skip out the door, excited to finally make your dream come true. jake followed after you, laughing at how cute you were and locking your door.

"hold on tight angel," he says, feeling your arms wrap around his waist as you press the side of your helmet to his back.

the cold breeze against your body made you shiver, but clinging onto jake made it bearable. he skillfully weaved through the streets, making his way up to the park with the hillside that overlooked the city.

once you settled onto the grass next to jake, you finally glanced out at the city, your breath hitching at how gorgeous it was.

and so you and jake sat, leaning on each other as you stared out at the city.

"y'know, i think i've found what i've been looking for all along," jake hums, his voice grounding you.

"yeah? what's that, jakey?"

"you."

he turns to look at you, his face inching closer to yours.

"can i kiss you angel?" he whispers against your lips.

"please," you breathe.

he presses his soft lips against your, the kiss slow yet passionate. he tastes like a dream and you're addicted, wanting more and more.

your lips clash together as his hands rub up and down your waist, and yours tangled in his fluff hair.

when you pull away, lips swollen and pink, you both laugh, leaning your foreheads together.

and now it's all crystal clear that you're where you're meant to be, in the arms of sim jaeyun.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh, @kiwicup, @yuuuraaa, @manariee, @ryuunaaa, @biradoobee, @haniipie, @sojumimi, @kristynaaah, @chrrific, @fleuryns, @rue-jenni, @laylasbunbunny, @gweoriz

[scatorcciosgirl]

nat x pregnant!reader headcanons...

Natalie Scatorccio x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ / MDNI, fem!reader, profanity, teen pregnancy, shauna isn't pregnant in this, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), breast play, overstimulation, thigh riding, semi-public sex, light dacryphilia, not proofread Note: i promise i'm working on part 4 of camera girl and ur requests trust i'm just going through a bit of a burnout rn </3 pls accept this as my apology and forgive me

sfw

You and Natalie are best friends. Have been since you met the first day of Kindergarten. You stuck by her side through everything - her dad's death, the slut-shaming, and the crash. So, it's only natural that she sticks by her side when you tearfully tell her that you might be pregnant.

Of course, naturally, she questions you a bit when you tell her. She asks if you're sure, if you know who the father is, how far along you might be. You could tell her that you don't know or that it's your scumbag ex's and she doesn't care. She tells you that she's got your back and she'll be there every step of the way.

If you even so much as think about doing a backstreet abortion, she freaks out and calls you insane. Obviously, if you were home and chose to get rid of the fetus, she'd hold your hand through the entire thing. But you're not home, and you could die.

She makes you promise you won't try anything.

Obviously, you're fucking terrified. You're going to have a baby in the middle of nowhere with Misty fucking Quigley acting as your OB-GYN.

Natalie comforts you every time she notices you feeling particularly anxious. She'll wrap her arms around you, rub your back and tell you that everything is going to be okay even though she's also so fucking scared.

When your bump starts to show, she thinks it's the cutest thing ever. She loves talking to the baby and feeling it kick. But she gets so creeped out when she sees your belly move because the baby is shifting around inside.

She does the thing where she lifts your belly to ease the pressure on your back. You're so appreciative you joke about how you could kiss her. Nat jokes back and says, "Do it," and then you both get flustered.

The two of you stay up most nights talking about baby names and fall asleep curled into each other, her hand resting protectively on your bump.

You are the one who makes the first move because she's too scared to mess things up and thought you had bigger things to focus on than her feelings for you.

It happens one night when Nat is cuddled up with you, rubbing your belly to try and soothe the baby because it wouldn't stop moving around, making it impossible for you to try and sleep. She just looks so pretty you couldn't help yourself and you kiss her.

Natalie freezes, taken aback. You panic and figure that you messed everything up so you start apologizing profusely. She kisses you to shut you up.

You start referring to the baby as 'our baby'. You didn't even realize you were doing it at first. Nat's heart swells every time you say it.

She lowkey freaks out, though. Like, she could handle it when it was just your baby. She'd be like the kid's aunt or something. But now it's hers, too. And she doesn't know the slightest thing about being a parent (like, look at the shitshow she'd ended up with) and raising a kid. Especially raising a kid out here.

But she knows that she loves you and the baby, so that's really all that matters to her. You still reassure her, of course. You have no doubts that she's going to be amazing with the baby.

When winter comes, she spends even more time hunting. Literally hates herself every time she and Travis come back with nothing. You reassure her that you and the baby are fine and that she's doing everything she can.

She starts giving you half of her food, though. Lies to you about how you definitely got less than she did and she's just making it fair.

Nat is so concerned and overprotective about you, it's both funny and endearing at the same time.

She tries telling you at one point to leave the chores to everyone else because what if you slip in the snow or get sick?? But you knew that if you did that, the others would be furious. And you'd also go insane doing nothing all day.

You do take it easy for the most part, sticking to the inside chores like laundry and cleaning. But when you do go outside to fill the water bucket or dump the pee bucket (both of which Nat was sure was too heavy for you to be carrying), she makes sure every inch of your skin is covered so you don't get sick.

God is Natalie livid the first time she hears Lottie refer to the baby as a gift from the Wilderness and catches her whispering to it when you're napping. She almost makes the two of you start sleeping in the attic but knows that you need the fireplace and the warmth of the others to not freeze.

She's even more furious the first time Lottie calls it 'our baby'.

When you go into labor, Nat sticks by your side the entire time. She dabs your forehead with a cold, damp towel and lets you squeeze her hand every time you push. She whispers encouraging words and tells you you're almost there even when the baby is barely crowning.

Thankfully, your labor is relatively smooth and easy. You're drifting in and out of consciousness the entire time, though, the strain too much for your starving body.

She panics when you pass out but Misty reassures her that you're fine.

Nat definitely cuts the umbilical chord and is the first to actually hold the baby, wrapping it in the baby blanket you'd received at your baby shower.

When you come to, she makes the others leave the two of you alone and hands you your baby girl. She cries her eyes out watching you coo to her.

You cry when you watch Nat with the baby. Like she's so soft with her, carrying her around in the little makeshift sling so you can have a break to do whatever you need to do.

When it's just the three of you, you can almost forget that you're all starving in the wilderness.

nsfw

You're so fucking horny it's insane. The slightest touch will get you riled up.

Before you two officially got together, she sometimes woke up to the feeling of you grinding against her leg while you were sleeping. She just moved away, feeling so bad when you sleepily let out a little whimper at the loss of friction.

Within a week of the two of you officially getting together, you beg her to finger you. She gives in (because you start crying because you need it so bad) and has to cover your mouth with her hand since you're so loud.

Natalie becomes obsessed with how sensitive you are now due to your pregnancy. Overstimulating you starts out as a complete accident but then she starts doing it purposefully, loving the way you start to tear up because it's too much. She doesn't stop until you've came at least twice.

She also loves your tits. They've doubled in size and they're also so fucking sensitive. Nat mouths at them until you're whining and she has to cover your mouth (or push her fingers in) with one hand while the other is shoved down your panties.

Natalie will eat you out any time she gets the chance. Sometimes, she'll take the risk and just do it at night when she's sure everyone's sleeping. She can't get enough of the way you tug on her hair and whine when her lips wrap around your clit.

On the rare occasion you have privacy, she'll situate you on her thigh and make you grind down until you cum...

[sailorshadzter]

haven't been able to stop thinking about this lil comic

so I wrote it it hehe with my own addition just to finish it!!

The demon they fight is fierce. 

Perhaps the fiercest of them all… Since Naraku, that was. Sometimes, those days seem so far off, like a dream he’s only just forgotten…

“InuYasha!”

The sharp cry of his name awakes him and he swerves out of the demon’s path with only seconds to spare. He shoots his companion a thankful glance, but she’s already looking away, blue eyes intense in their gaze, her hands grasping at her single weapon of choice. He loves her, he knows, he’s known for far longer than he’d ever care to admit, even now. But he loves her earnestly, far more than he’s ever thought himself capable of doing, he loves her in a way he could never replicate, never live without. She puts an arrow to her bow and for a moment he’s transported back to that very first day, when she had shattered the Shikon no Tama with her untrained arrow. That had been the day everything changed. Her arrow tip glows lilac and he feels the tingles down his spine, bearing witness to her power. 

“Kagome!” She doesn’t look his way, but only he can see her elbows tense, can see the hairs on the back of her neck raising up. “Marry me!” 

She hears him, of course, but she doesn’t dare believe it. 

Her concentration shot, she tightens her fingertip grip on the bow string- “I don’t think now is the best time,” she answers honestly, hyper aware of the beating of her heart. 

He stalls, just a moment, swinging his sword in a great motion, landing just footsteps from where she stands. “Now may be the only time!” She’s only been back six months, but he knows, he knows this more than he knows anything else in life. When she’s let her arrow go, he reaches for her and she turns inward, into her favorite place to lean her head. “I love you,” he says when she tips her head back. “I’ve made my choice… What’s yours?”

His tone sends shivers down her spine and Kagome knows, as she gazes into his golden eyed gaze, that this was where she was meant to be for the rest of her days. She’d returned to this time, to him, for a reason. Beside InuYasha… It was her place. It was her home. “Miroku!” She barks without hesitation, never once looking away from him. “Marry us!” 

The monk, the long time friend and companion, looks their way, incredulous as he swings his staff. “I’m a little busy right now!” He snaps, two additional demons growling in his direction. But, when he lands his next blow and he finds himself alone, he turns towards his two friends- no, they’re more than that now. “Hurry up then,” He says with a good natured roll of his eyes, knowing his own wife would be livid he’s done this without her, and right there on the battlefield, he marries them.

When he kisses her, InuYasha feels something he’s never felt before. 

But like the crack of the whip, the demon strikes, separating them to an arm’s length. “Can I save us from dying now?” She asks, drawing away, her rosy lips curved with a frown, her bow clutched tightly in hand. InuYasha laughs, nodding, knowing it was more likely that she’d win this for them anyways.

And sure enough, he watches as her second arrow glides through the falling darkness, piercing the demon right in the forehead. He watches as the spiritual light flows through it, taking over; watching her win was as wonderful as it’d always been. “You did it,” he says as she turns his way, grinning, her bow still tightly clutched in her hand,

That was his wife.

That was his life. 

Kagome, alongside Inuyasha in the middle of a battle: Miroku! Marry us!

Miroku, fending off demons: I'M A LITTLE BUSY AT THE MOMENT.