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jpmarvel90 · 8 months

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Don't Belong pt 1

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Word Count: 8392

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n is the adopted daughter of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. However, when science enables her mother's to have twin boys who are biogloically both of their's, her relationship slowly changes. At 17 she's ready to move out and move on, is it too late for her moms to fix things?

Y/n's POV:

When I was 6, my life was saved by none other than the Black Widow. She came in like the hero she is and saved me from the hell that was Hydra. Whilst helping me to acclimatise to normal life, we grew close, and she was a mother figure I never had. I was so shocked when she told me that she wanted to adopt me.

It was everything that I could ever ask for. She was an amazing mom. Caring, loving and always there for me. She had this soft side that not many people got to see. To the world, and a lot of the team, she had this tough, steely exterior. But I never saw that. Not from the moment she found me. I always felt safe and loved around her.

A couple of years later, Wanda joined the team and soon enough, Mama fell in love. I never saw mama so happy. They had the perfect relationship and Wanda took me on without a second thought. When I was 9, she adopted me, and I had two loving parents.

We had quite a domestic life. Tony built us a separate suite at the compound so we could still be close by for when they were needed for missions. I loved having parents that were heroes. I was so proud of them. I ended up spending quite a bit of time with Pepper when they were on missions together, but when they came home, they always had a couple of days off to spend time with me to make up for being away. It was great.

Watching them make a difference in the world, was the reason I joined the SHIELD Young Initiative Programme. I wanted to be just like my moms. Steve became a huge support to me, and alongside him and mama, I was acing all my practicals and exams.

But before that, when I was 11, our family grew. With the help of Bruce and Tony, Mom got pregnant with twins, both biologically hers and mamas. Billy and Tommy made our family complete.

As soon as Mom got pregnant, Mama told Fury that she wouldn't be going on missions once mom got into her third trimester and that after the birth they both would be taking maternity leave. She also told him that they would only ever be sent on a mission together if it was to save the world. Otherwise, under no circumstances were they to go together. They wanted to be around for the twins as much as possible and didn't want them left on their own if they had to go on missions together.

For the first couple of years, everything was perfect. But when they became toddlers, they were a bit of a handful. It meant that mom's focus went to them and slowly I became less of a priority for them.

I found it hard as I was coming into my teenage years, and I felt like I needed my moms more than ever. But I understood at the start. I was old enough that I could look after myself and the twins needed more. But it got harder when every time I tried to talk to one of them, I was brushed off, or told to speak to them later. But later never came.

Once I hit 13, I was their personal babysitter whenever they needed it. Mama told me how they were trying to make sure that her and mom still had quality time together, so had a date night or day each week. Seems they forgot about quality time with their daughter. It got to the point I was expected to drop everything to be there for my brothers. Picking them up at school, taking them to soccer. It didn't matter what I had planned, I was expected to do my job for the family. I did it without complaining, because I thought if I could prove that I was a good sister, maybe they would start to acknowledge me more.

To try and prove myself worthy, I worked even harder for SHIELD. However, now I lost mama as my training partner. She was too busy with work or the twins to help me train. It hurt when she told me that but, thankfully, Steve stepped up more than he had. He became like a father to me. I could confide in him when my moms didn't have time. Though there were still things that I couldn't talk to him about.

Now I'm 17, working towards graduating the youth programme and into SHEILD as an official agent. We have our final exams coming up and I'm doing everything I can to be ready for them. The top two initiates will get fast tracked through the system and be able to go on missions sooner.

I want nothing more than getting that chance. I need to start making a name for myself and to stop being under my mothers' shadow. Once I wanted to be just like them, to make them proud. But now I know that's not possible. They have their perfect biological family. I was just the stray they took pity on.

"You know, you could take it easy today. You're more than capable of passing these exams even on a bad day. You'll be finishing top of the class and joining us for missions in no time." Steve tells me as he holds the punch bag for me. "I just want to be on top of my game." I tell him, hitting the bag as precisely as I could.

"Have you told your moms about the date for your final practical. I'm sure they'll want to be around when you get home." He asks, making me falter with my hits. "I did, but I don't think they were listening. Although they seemed to acknowledge it, Billy was showing them his Lego at the time." I share with him.

Steve knows what's been happening with my moms and the only reason he hasn't done anything is because I made him promise not to. All I need to do is graduate and then I can get moved into the SHIELD facility and start a new life without being a burden on my family.

"You know, you should talk to them. I know you've tried, but really sit them down and tell them how you're feeling." He tries once again. "It's been years now. If they really cared for me, they would notice that they barely see me anymore. I don't even remember the last time they said I love you." I respond, my hits getting harder.

"Ok, I'm calling this. You'll hurt yourself and then you won't even be able to complete your exams." Steve tells me, stepping between me and the bag. I sigh but know he's right. "Just try for me ok. Maybe after your exams. They'll be so proud of you." He pleads. "Ok, fine." I agree. "Now go shower kiddo. You stink!" He teases me before dodging a punch I try to land on his arm.

I smile as I head up to my room. As I walk into our apartment, I see the happy family sat together watching TV. "Hi moms." I call out when I enter. They don't even turn around, so I call out again, only to get the same response. I decide to go and join them but as soon as I sit down, I'm scolded by mom. "Y/n do you have to come in here like that. Go and shower will you." She tells me off. I look to mama who doesn't even glance in my direction. "Sorry, I was training for my final exam." I explain but once again, nothing. I let out a small humourless chuckle to myself as I leave the living room. Every day, I feel more and more like I don't belong here anymore.

__________

I did it! I actually passed! Not only did I pass, I topped the class. I think I even saw Fury smile. I'm so happy, nothing can burst my bubble right now. As a class, we all decide that we're going to celebrate tonight. We've been a tight group and it'll be nice to actually spend time together without having to study or practice.

I practically run back to the compound, smiling ear to ear. "Someone's happy." Steve calls out to me as I rush through the kitchen. "Someone might be your partner one day!" I call out as I keep on towards my destination of finding my parents. "Can't wait kiddo. Well done! Knew you could do it!" Steve shouts after me.

"Y/n, don't run!" Mama scolds me as I find them in the living room. "Sorry, but I have to tell you something that I know you'll want to hear." I apologise with a smile on my face. "Not now Y/n. We're about to head out. The boys just need dinner and don't let them stay up late." She tells me. That's when I notice that she's dressed up in her best jacket.

"I can't look after the twins tonight. Our class are going to celebrate." I explain, hoping she might ask why we're celebrating. But that would be wishful thinking. "Time with your friends can wait Y/n." She tells me without even looking up at me, too focused on her phone. "Can't one of the others watch them. Just for tonight. I've never asked before. But just this once. Please." I practically beg, but to no use. "Stop being selfish and just watch the boys." She snaps, making a lump form in my throat.

"Fine." I mumble, leaving the room and head out of our apartment. "Where are you going?" She calls after me. "To see Steve. Don't worry, I'll be back to watch your precious boys." I talk back whilst leaving, hearing her call after me.

I make my way to find Steve. I know he'll be excited with my results. I wipe at my eyes for the few traitorous tears that fell. "So, I hear someone will be an Avenger in no time." Tony says as I walk into the kitchen. "I think I'll stick with SHIELD." I respond. I have no desire to be a full time Avenger. I'll be around to see my moms live their perfect life without me.

"I'm proud of you kiddo." Steve smiles at me, pulling me into a hug. "Thanks, old man. I couldn't have done it without you." I tell him truthfully, squeezing him tighter. "Your mom's must be proud. Especially Nat. Now's the time for celebrating." Pepper says. "Oh, I'm babysitting the boys tonight." I respond, trying to hide my disappointment. I notice that all others share a look.

They have all noticed how my relationship has changed with my moms, but thankfully, never brought it up. "We could watch them. Let you go out with your class. I know how much you've been looking forward to it." Pepper offers kindly. "Thanks, but mama said it had to be me." I reply. "Sorry kiddo." Steve says, wrapping his arms around me. "It's ok. I better go back before I get into trouble. I just wanted to tell you all about the results." I tell them.

"Of course Y/n. We're so proud of you. I can't wait to work with you." Tony pats me on the shoulder, whilst the others all give me a hug. "We'll do something together tomorrow." Steve promises and I nod. "I'd like that." I reply, taking a deep breath before heading back home.

When I get back to the apartment, both mom and mama are waiting to go. "Good, you're back. We'll be home late." Mom tells me, turning to leave. "And we'll talk about your attitude in the morning." Mama adds on with a stern look before turning to leave. "I love you." I call out after them. No response. My head drops. I really have just become the live in nanny.

_________

The next day, I didn't have to face my moms in the morning. They had taken the boys to the park and out for breakfast. I didn't even get an invite. But thankfully, Steve is taking me for dinner tonight to celebrate the passing of my exams and my imminent graduation.

He's taken me to my favourite Italian restaurant. It's nice to have this time. Steve really has been the only parent I've had recently. I'm so grateful for him. "So your moms don't know?" Steve asks as I tell him that I've been told I can move into SHIELD accommodation in a few days. "I've tried, but as usual, I barely have a conversation with them anymore. They probably wouldn't even notice that I've gone." I admit the painful truth. "Do you think they even still love me?" I ask the question that has been haunting me for a long time now.

Steve looks at me with a sympathetic look. He reaches out and takes my hand. "Oh Y/n. I'm sure they do. They just got lost in the boys and have forgot, that even though you're a teenager, you still need them." He tries to defend them. "If you say so." I mumble, not believing him.

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up." Steve says, changing the subject. "Oh yeah, and what might that be Captain?" I ask with a smirk, making him roll his eyes. "I spoke with Fury, and he already has a mission for you. It's nothing too big, a simple in and out to get some data." Steve explains, making a smile grow on my face. "Really? Me on a mission already?" I question and he nods. "Fury would have had you on them earlier. You've been the best recruit the programme has seen. But he had to follow protocol. There is one downside though." He shares. "Oh God, don't tell me it's with my mother?" I ask making him laugh. "No, just this old man." He responds. "Really? I'm going with you?" I ask excitedly. "Yeah, you don't need me. But I wanted to see you in action on your first mission. I really am proud of you kiddo. I'm glad that I've had a front row seat to seeing you become the woman you have." He expresses honestly, taking me off guard.

The rest of dinner is lovely, and I have a really nice time. It's nice to actually have someone care about your achievements. However, that happiness soon disappears when I enter the apartment to two angry moms. "Where do you think you've been? You've not been answering your phone." Mama yells at me. I reach into my pocket and see that my phone is dead.

"Sorry, my cell died." I tell her, but that doesn't help. "So, are you going to share where you were without telling us? It's 10pm Y/n!" Mom now joins in. "I was having dinner with Steve." I share. "Until this late. Why would you be going out for dinner on a school night? Why didn't he ask us first?" Mama questions me.

"We went out to celebrate when I missed going with my class. And it's not a school night. The programme has finished now." I tell them, trying to keep my cool. "Is this about that party you couldn't go to last night?" Mom asks. "No, actually, it was having someone to celebrate with that I finished top of my class and am now officially a SHIELD agent!" I snap back, taking them both by surprise.

"You've had your final exams already?" Mom asks, stepping closer but I pull away. "Yeah, I have told you on a number of occasions. But apparently you don't listen to me anymore." I admit, feeling tears building. "You finished top?" Mama says proudly, but I just scoff. Her pride is too late. "Like you even care." I growl. "Don't talk to your mother like that." Mom tells me off.

"Like what? You haven't given me the time of day in years. Why do you suddenly care that I was out late. Was I not around to be your personal babysitter? Or were you just annoyed I wasn't there for the one time you noticed I wasn't around." I call them both out taking them by surprise.

"Y/n it was one night." Mom tries to deny more calmly. "No, it wasn't. It's always the twins this, the twins that. I have to make allowances for them in my life and stop what I'm doing to be there to babysit them. When was the last time that you spent any time with me? When did you last tell me you love me or even acknowledge me?" I shout, tears falling down my cheeks, as my parents stand staring at me in shock.

"I have worked my ass off with SHIELD so I can get in and earn my spot with them. Where I can have my own place and start a life for myself. Because I clearly haven't been a part of this family for a long time." I share how I've been feeling. I notice that both their eyes tear up. "Oh Y/n, sweetheart, that's not the case. Of course you belong." Mama tries to argue, moving closer with a shaky hand out in front of her. I don't reach out. In fact, I move away. "Well neither of your actions have shown it in the last few years." I point out, making mom cry harder. "Look it's fine. I get it. I'm not your biological child. Billy and Tommy are. I'll always be grateful for you saving me from Hydra, but you've got your family now. Don't worry, I'll be gone in a couple of days." I say sadly before heading to my room, my moms frozen in shock in their spot.

I slam the door shut behind me, locking it and falling onto my bed. I bury my head into the pillow and sob. All the emotions I've been bottling up come out. My whole body wracks with each sob as I realise, it's official. I really have lost my family now.

Nat's POV:

I feel the tears slowly falling down my cheeks as I realise that my daughter stood before me as a broken girl who thinks her moms don't love her anymore. By the time I come to my senses, Y/n is already gone, and I'm left facing my wife who is sobbing. "Have we really been putting the boys first so much she thinks that we don't want her anymore?" I say at a whisper, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"It's my fault. Things changed when I came into the picture, and we started trying for our own babies. We didn't even consider how that must have made her feel. We didn't even reassure her that we would still love her just as much, regardless of if the boys were ours biologically or not." Wanda responds.

I quickly move forward and wrap my arms around her. "It's not your fault my love. We both wanted that. Our lives are significantly better with you in them Wanda. But you're right. We should have tried harder to make sure we involved Y/n and showed her will still love her." I comfort her.

I can't believe that I've let Y/n get to this point. The day I found her in that cell, she changed my life for the better. She not only made me a mother, but she made me more human. She made me see there was more than being an Avenger. She is the reason that I who I am today. Yet I've neglected her. I got so focused on the twins that I didn't even notice how little I have seen Y/n.

"We should go and talk to her." I suggest whilst Wanda still clings to me. "She was angry. We should give her some space. Let's take her for breakfast in the morning. I'll ask Pepper to watch the boys and we can start to make this right." She counters. "But..." I start, not wanting to leave this longer than we have to. "This is our daughter we're talking about. She has your temper." Wanda tearily chuckles. "Hey!" I poorly defend. She's right though. She might not be biologically mine, but she is my mini me.

That night I don't sleep. All I can think of is every time that I blew Y/n off and decided to spend time with the twins instead. When did we stop doing things as a family? I try and think of the last time I trained with her or helped her prepare for her exams. God, how did I not even know she was taking them this week?! "Your thoughts are loud Detka." Wanda mumbles sleepily as she turns over to look at me. When she sees the distress on my face, she gives me a sympathetic smile. "She has worked so hard, and we didn't even know she was completing her final exams. She told us yet neither of us remembered or even heard her apparently. We are awful moms!" I sigh.

Wanda moves and pulls me into her embrace. "I know. I feel awful too. I'm so proud of her though. She finished top. She's just like you." She shares. "She's moving out." I realise whilst Wanda just looks at me confused. "What do you mean?" She questions. "She said she would be gone in a few days. She must have been assigned a room at SHIELD. Our little girl was ready to leave the nest and we didn't even know." I respond, another wave of sadness washing over me.

"We'll talk to her and make her see that she is still very much wanted here. If she still wants to move out that's fine, but she has to know that we love her and always have. We can't change the past but we sure as hell can make sure we change the future and how see feels." She says determined.

Neither of us really sleep. I think we regret not talking to her last night. But our tiredness soon takes over and we get some much need kip. It definitely won't do any of us favours when we talk to Y/n in the morning. She won't make it easy on us and I don't want to snap because I'm too tired.

When we eventually get up, we check on the boys and I go to ask Pepper if she would mind watching the boys. "Is Y/n not available?" Pepper asks with a humourless chuckle. "What? No, we're going to take her to breakfast." I respond, surprised at the bite to her tone. She hums in surprise. "I'll take the boys. Make sure you treat that girl. She definitely deserves it." She tells me firmly. I nod and thank her before going to get the boys.

"Everything ok?" Wanda asks me when I take Billy from her. "Whilst we've been failing to notice Y/n, I think everyone else has noticed our behaviour. It's very frosty down there." I tell her and she nods sadly. I guess we can't expect anything less.

It makes me wonder what could have happened if we didn't have everyone else around. They have clearly been supportive to her and been there when Wanda and I should have. What if she didn't have that support, would she have even still been with us?

Shaking off the thought, Wanda and I take the boys to the compound living room, where we receive a number of glares from the team that were there. Thankfully, nothing is said, but my guilt keeps on growing.

With the boys sorted, I take Wanda's hand and we head to Y/n's room. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. We wait anxiously but get no response. I try again, calling out to her this time. "Y/n, honey. Can we come in?" I ask, but once again, we're met by silence.

I look to Wanda who's got a concerned look on her face. "Sweetheart, we're going to come in now." Wanda speaks up and pushes down on the door handle. I'm surprised when it opens but that is soon replaced by shock when I see her room practically empty. There are a couple of boxes with her stuff in, but most of her clothes have gone.

I let go of Wanda's hand and quickly move into the ensuite to see if she's in there, but I'm met by more empty cabinets. Panic builds within me to know that she's gone. "Where is she?" Wanda asks as stands by the chest of draws, picking up photos that had been turned upside. She lets out a muffled sob when she sees they're our family photos. What have we done to our daughter.

"She's probably asked Fury if she could move sooner. Considering how much he loves her, I'm sure he would have done anything to get her in as soon as possible." I respond, letting out a sigh. "But she's only 17. She's still a kid." Wanda argues. "I know babe. But when she signed up, it was part of the contract that I signed as her parent. Besides, she turns 18 next week and we'd have no say anyway." I admit.

"Shit, is it already her birthday? We've done nothing to prepare for that. In fact, I'm sure we both forgot." Wanda exhales, running her hands through her hair, whilst I made sure all the photos were back upright. Though, I notice our last family photo was back when Y/n was just 15. We've got hundreds of photos with the twins, but it's been over two years since we've had a complete family photo.

Wanting to know that Y/n is ok, I grab my phone out and hit Fury's number. It rings out and I let out a sigh before trying Maria. "Romanoff." She greets me. "Hill, I was wondering if you could tell me if Y/n has moved into her room yet and if so where she's been placed. Wanda and I want to surprise her." I try my luck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n has asked that we don't disclose her room location at the moment. She has been allowed early move in, so will be in a position to share once the other agents are moving." Hill responds. "Please, Maria, I'm asking you as a friend. We really need to see Y/n." I plead, hoping she'll have sympathy on me. "And I'm telling you as a friend that how you treated your own daughter is unacceptable. Do you know why she was the best cadet to come through?" She calls me out. "No." I respond in a whisper. "Initially it was because she was trying to be just like her hero mothers. But she got even better when she was fighting to make her own name for herself to start her life over. I watched her personality change to become guarded and her walls built high. That's what you did to her Nat." She scolds me through the phone.

"I know Maria. We have fucked up more than we thought possible and we're trying to make this right. We can't do that if we can't even speak with her." I counter. "This isn't something you can just fix with a talk and a hug. This is years of you slowly neglecting her. Pushing yourself onto her is not going to help with that." Maria warns me. I know she's right. We'll end up pushing Y/n away if we're not careful. But I also know that I can't wait to fix this. I want my baby girl to know how much I love her. Despite my inability to show her these last few years.

Wanda and I spend the day trying to get any information on where Y/n might be. We get a lot of cold shoulders, and our questions often go answered. I even spend time hanging around the Shield accommodation to see if I can catch a glimpse of her. My lucks not in and I return home deflated.

When I walk through the door, a smile forms on my face as I see Wanda giving the boys dinner. "Any luck?" She asks. I just shake my head. "We'll find her." She says confidently. "When was the last time we had dinner with Y/n?" I ask, looking to Wanda who's looking at me sympathetically. "Detka, you are punishing yourself by think that." She scolds me lightly. "It's true though. She asked when we last said I love you to her. I've been trying to think, and I don't remember. How can a mother not remember when they last said I love you to their child. Have we really subconsciously disregarded her because she isn't biologically ours?" I share my thoughts, tears falling freely down my face.

Wanda quickly moves from the table, leaving the boys to carry on talking about the latest Nintendo game they're playing. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in close. "We let ourselves get lost in the boys. They were a handful and we were blessed with a daughter who was selfless and caring. Subconsciously, we took advantage of that. But that changes now ok." She responds as I nod in the crock of her neck. We really need to fix this.

__________

It's been a few days and we've still had no luck in seeing Y/n. Wanda and I decided to go to Shield to talk to Fury today, whilst the boys were in school. I head straight to his office, knocking twice before heading in, not caring if he's busy. "Romanoff, Maximoff. What can I do for you?" He asks, moving his gaze from the laptop in front of him.

"It's been long enough now Fury. The other agents have started moving in and Y/n is still only 17, so tell us where she is staying." I demand, my tone harsh. "I can give you her room allocation, but she's not there." Fury responds, just angering me more. "Then where the hell is she?!" I shout, only calming down when I feel Wanda squeeze my hand. "She's on a mission. She'll back tomorrow." He responds nonchalantly.

"A mission? She's 17 Fury! How is she already going on a mission?!" Wanda responds before I even manage to direct my own anger into words. "She is almost 18 and finished top of her class. You knew that was a possibility when you signed her up Romanoff. She has the potential to be the best agent we've seen. She is ready." Fury retorts, but I'm still not happy. "She's just a kid, she could get hurt." I growl, worry taking over me.

"Natasha, she is far from the kid you think she is. If you still trained with her, you'd see that she can almost beat Steve in hand to hand combat and her weapons skill matches your own, if not better in some instances." He points out and I realise how little I actually know my daughter right now. "Look, I'll keep you posted when she's back." Fury concedes after a moment silence.

"Thank you. Is she on her own?" I ask but he shakes his head. "Steve went to be on comms." He replies and that puts my mind at ease a little. He loves her like his own, he'll do everything that he can to protect her. "Ok. Thank you." I say, taking Wanda's hand a heading home.

"We've missed so much Nat. Y/n used to tell us everything about her training and classes. We've created an environment where she doesn't feel like she can share with us anymore. She was probably so excited to get a chance on her first mission. But instead of us being with her and making sure she's prepared, we didn't even know she had gone." Wanda agonises.

"I'm worried that we may not be able to fix this. If her walls have gone up, they'll be near impossible to knock them down." I sigh. "You had walls once. What helped you to let them down?" Wanda asks. "Y/n." I respond, my gaze dropping to my hands. "Then we find away to be the same for her." Wanda tries to comfort me. But how can the people that caused her this pain, be the ones to pull her through.

The next morning is quiet whilst we get the boys ready for school. They asked this morning where Y/n was and that they missed her. It broke my heart. Because of our actions, not only is Y/n feeling alone, isolated, and not part of this family, but her brother might lose the chance of having their sister in their lives.

When we get home, we end up just sat waiting for any news that Y/n is on her way home so we can greet her. I want to be able to hear all about how her first mission went and actually be apart of something so special to her. I may not have shown it, but I've always been proud of her. She is talented and I loved training with her. I had always planned to join her again once the twins were old enough. But I didn't and it seems that I have missed out on so much.

Whilst I'm preparing lunch, I hear Friday's alarm go off and my ears tune in. "Emergency medical team to the landing bay. Emergency medical team to the landing bay." I don't even think before I'm dropping the knife onto the countertop. I go to call for Wanda, but she rushes in from the bedroom. "Something's wrong with Jess. I can feel it." She says worriedly. "Let's go." I say, taking her hand and rushing through the compound to get to the landing bay.

Cho is waiting, along with a nursing staff. "Is it Y/n?" I ask as we come to a halt next to her. It feels like an age before she responds. A small nod of the head breaks my heart. "H-how bad?" Wanda asks, a tremble to her voice. "Steve confirmed a gunshot wound. She's lost a lot of blood." She responds. I run my hand through my hair, my stomach in knots.

It feels like the world around me has become muffled. I don't hear the orders that Cho is giving her team. Had I been able to, maybe I would have known more about her condition. My chest feels tight at the thought of her being hurt and the chance that she might not make it.

It's not until a pair of hands cup my face, that I zone back into the environment around me. "Breathe for me baby." Wanda's shaking voice tries to calm me. But the complete fear in her own eyes doesn't do much to help. We're facing losing our daughter and she doubts the depths of our love for her.

I do my best to bring myself out of this panic attack. I can't be a broken version of myself. My wife and family need me more than ever. If I can't pull through now, I'm not worthy to be a mother. "That's it detka. Deep breathes." Wanda guides me. I take one more deep breath and stand straighter. This isn't about me.

I can see a frown on Wanda's face form as she sees me put up my own walls. I know that she hates when I do this, but it's the only way I know how to get through what's about to happen without completely breaking down.

It's not long until the QuinJet comes into sight and slowly starts to descend on to the landing pad. I feel like I'm holding my breath as we wait for the ramp to lower, and we can see how bad this is. My heart is thumping against my chest as it begins to lower, and I see Steve's face first.

Cho and her team move forward, a bed waiting, whilst Wanda and I hold back. I want to be by her side straight away, but I also know that we'll just be a hinderance to her care if we insist on being with her.

When we get a full view of Steve, I hear Wanda let out a sob beside me. He's holding our unconscious daughter in his arms. His own suit is covered in blood and my eyes instantly land on the blooded dressing on her stomach. "I tried to staunch the bleeding as best I could. But it just kept coming." Steve explains. I've never seen him so shaken up before.

He places Y/n on the hospital bed and moves out the way, before staring at his bloodied hands. Cho doesn't wait before rushing Y/n off to the medical bay, the three of us closely following behind.

"Is she going to be ok?" I ask as they start to get to work. But before she has a chance to respond, the machines start to go crazy and they move even faster to help my daughter. "I can't answer that right now Agent Romanoff. I need to focus on Y/n, but I promise I'll keep you updated." Cho says, her polite way of telling us to leave. I'm reluctant, knowing that in this moment, Y/n is on the verge of life or death. But with a subtle tug of my hand from Wanda, I follow to watch through the window outside.

My gaze doesn't leave my daughter as I watch over as the team work to save her life. I don't notice that another person has joined us until I hear a bang from behind me. My head shoots around where I see Steve pinning Fury to the wall. "You told us it was empty! That all she needed was to get to the drive and out again." Steve growls at Fury who's holding his hand up in surrender. "I know." He responds, but Steve isn't happy when he slams him against the wall again.

"Then why the hell is she led in that hospital fighting for her life. There was a whole guard waiting for her!" Steve yells. This information makes the anger inside me grow. "You sent her into an ambush?!" I join in now, furious that he has put my daughter in danger.

"I didn't know! I'm as surprised as you are." Fury tries to explain, but Steve isn't letting up. "Talk!" Steve spits. "I had an agent scout the base for two weeks! Every report was how there was no activity. I would never have sent her had I know there was any more risk. It was supposed to be an easy mission for her first." Fury explains.

I can see the honesty in his eyes, and I know Steve does too. Fury has been like family to Y/n and I do trust he would never willingly put her in unnecessary danger. "So, either Hydra suddenly decided to man the base or..." Steve starts. "The agent tipped them off." I finish off as Fury nods. "I've detained the agent, and he broke within minutes. It was a perfect opportunity for them to fight you without back up." Fury shares as Steve lets him go. "Except I wasn't meant to go in. So, they were faced with Y/n." Steve concludes.

"I'm sorry Nat. I really am. I never would put Y/n in danger like that. I wanted her to have a successful first mission. One that would build her confidence." Fury apologises with a sincerity that he rarely shows. "I want to see him." I state firmly, to which Fury sighs. "Me too. It's because of him that our daughter is fighting for her life." Wanda steps beside me, her eyes glowing red. "Not now, not while you're both angry and worried." Fury refuses. "He could be the reason my daughter dies!" I shout at him, but he doesn't budge. "And he'll also be the reason I have to arrest you for killing him. If it's not you it'll be Wanda. I'm not letting either of you do that." Fury once again declines.

In a huff, I drop to the seat in the waiting room, my head falling into my hands. He's right. I will kill him if I get my hands on him. "Be here for Y/n. She needs you now more than ever. Leave the rest to me. I can promise that he will not get away with it." Fury orders, the formality coming back into his tone. We all reluctantly agree, and he leaves content that, for now, a homicide will not be occurring.

"What happened?" I ask Steve when the silence becomes almost unbearable. He takes the seat next to me and his gaze falls to his blooded hands. "It was meant to be a simple mission to test her hacking. I was in the QuinJet for support, and she was to go in, get to the mainframe computer and download as much data as possible." He starts and I nod along. "It was going fine, and she was doing everything by the book, clearing each room one by one. Part of me was sure she would be just like you and be impatient to get what she needed." He shares, with a small smile, making me chuckle. "Thankfully, she's a far better agent than I am." I respond, feeling Wanda's hand interlink with mine.

"It was as she got to the second floor, she said something felt off. It was warmer and it didn't smell as damp and musty. She said there were signs that this floor had been used recently. Knowing the risk that could entail, I told her to pull back and we'd get a team to help us clear the base. It wasn't something we should be doing on our own." He continues to explain, my anger towards the double agent increasing by the minute. But I also feel pride at how she was able to establish that something was wrong.

"She did as I ordered, but she was ambushed on her way out. I was already on my way in to meet her when I heard gunshots start. By the time I reached her, all the agents were down around her, but an alarm was blaring, and I knew others would be on their way. I grabbed at Y/n's arm, but she didn't move. As I moved in front of her, it was then I saw where her gaze was fixed. She's been hit. I got her out of there as quickly as I could and set the QuinJet to fly on autopilot. I tried everything that I could to stop the bleeding, but there was just so much. I-I...." Steve starts to crumble as he aggressively rubs at the blood on his hands.

I reach out and place my hands over his, stopping his actions. "I know you would have done everything you could Steve. We don't blame you. I'm so grateful that you were there to help our daughter." I try to reassure him. "I'm going to clean up. I can't sit here with...this on my hands any longer." Steve says, standing up holding his hands out in front of him.

Silence falls again when it's just Wanda and me. I want to look through the window again, but I don't think I can see them working on her. If she dies, I can't watch that. She looked so small as Steve laid her on the bed. "I had always hoped I'd be with her on her first mission." I speak up, guilt building once again. "Hmm" Wanda responds, turning to look at me. "When we used to train together, I always knew she would be one of the best the agency we would see. I couldn't wait to work along side her. My pride was overwhelming." I share as Wanda smiles softly at me.

"What happened? Why did I let myself lose sight of her. I have no excuse for treating her how I did. When I adopted her, I promised that she would always be loved and safe. Look at her now. I wouldn't blame her if she never forgives me." I lament, tears stinging my eyes. "It wasn't just you babe. We both have done wrong by Y/n and it's not forgivable. But we can work to earn her trust back and be the mothers that she deserves." She tries to comfort me.

"What if she doesn't make it and we don't have a chance to make things right? Or she does make it through, but she wants nothing to do with us?" I question in a panic. "I think she always hoped you'd eventually pull your heads out your asses." Steves voice takes us both by surprise as he rejoins us in a pair of sweats and a hoody. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"Fury loves that kid. If she had asked to move out sooner, he would have allowed her too. I think part of her didn't want to go just in case you started being the loving and caring mothers you once were. Ultimately, she was still a kid and desperate to still have you in her life." He clarifies. "But she had already gone. We blew our last shot." Wanda speaks up. "Maybe you're right. But if anyone is worth fighting for. It's her." Steve points out and I couldn't agree more. I know that I'll do anything in my power to make things right and hopefully prove to my daughter that I love her more than I can express.

After hours of waiting, too scared to even glance through the window, Cho comes out of the medical room with a solemn look, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I feel my breathing pick up once again, the thought of not being able to fix everything with Y/n becomes suffocating. It's not until Wanda grasps my hand that I find myself zoning back in.

"H-how is s-she?" I find myself asking in a quiet, unsure voice. Cho sighs and takes the seat opposite us, her hands interlocked. "Y/n suffered a gunshot wound to her abdomen. The bullet went straight through her liver. We were required to remove part of her liver, to ensure we saved her life. This was harder with the amount of blood that she lost. However, we were able to stabilise her before repairing the damage done to her liver." She explains.

"So, she's going to be, ok?" Wanda asks to clarify. "It's going to be touch and go. She's extremely weak right now and the next couple of days are going to be critical to her recovery. If she can pull through these next few days, I believe she'll make a full recovery. Though it'll take a lot of rehab to adjust to the changes to her body." Cho confirms.

I let out a small sob, knowing that she can pull through this. I have to believe that she will make it through these next few days, and we can be there to support her through her recovery. "Will she be able to return to full field duties?" Steve asks, clearly agitating Wanda. "Really Steve. That's what you're concerned about right now?" She snaps.

He turns to look at us and I know exactly why he's asking. "The SHIELD programme is everything to Y/n. To lose it after only just achieving it, that will crush her." Steve defends. "I think she would rather be alive right now." Wanda snaps back. "You just don't want to face that the honest truth is that without this programme, Y/n will feel like she has nothing, and I hate to say it, but she won't be too happy about being alive." Steve shares, an angry, yet sad look on his face.

Wanda goes to argue back, a look of hurt washing over her face. But I hold my hand up to stop her. "He's right my love." I interrupt her, making her snap her head to me. "SHIELD was the only family she thought that she had after she believed that she didn't belong in this family anymore. It will break her if she can't carry on what she worked so hard to achieve." I admit sadly.

I lock eyes with Wanda, and I see her heartbreak even further, if that's possible. "It'll take time and a lot of hard work, but I believe that Y/n would be able to return to full duties within SHIELD." Cho chips in, reminding us all that she was still in the room. "But first, she needs to get through the next few days." She reiterates, making all of us nod.

"Can we see her?" I ask, desperate to be with her and to hold her hand. "Of course. I'll be in my office, but the nursing staff will monitor her hourly." She smiles at us and leaves us to it. I take Wanda's hand and lead her towards the door and slowly push the door open. I let out a gasp when I see my little girl led in bed. She has a tube down her throat and wires attached to so many machines.

I've seen many people in this situation. But when it's your own daughter, there aren't words to describe the pain you feel. How helpless you are to make them better. All you can do is sit and watch as you wait for fate to take its course. Praying that you get your daughter back.

I instantly move to take a seat next to her bed, taking her hand in mine and holding it tightly. I notice the bruising to her knuckles, showing she fought. It brings a small smile of pride to my face.

Wanda goes to the opposite side of the bed and gently places her hand on Y/n's head. "I'm so sorry moya Lyubov." She whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "We promise we're going to make things right. We are so sorry that you ever felt like you didn't belong in this family. You'll never doubt this again!" I make promise to her now, one that I will repeat when she wakes up. Because she will wake up.

Part 2

#marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #avengers fanfiction #marvel #avengers #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wandanat #wandanat x reader

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silentcryracha · 1 year

Text

❍ ‗ Baby Fever (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader

Genre/warnings : Just fluff! Mentions of pregnancies and giving birth (no graphic/explicit)

Summary : One of your best friends just had a baby, so you and your longtime boyfriend Hyunjin go see the new family, ending the day with unexpected plans.

Word count : 3.3 k

A/n : Damn this turned out long. I truly can't help it apologies (lol). Anyways this is something that I would've wrote regardless I think, but the inspiration definitely came from the recent video of Hyune, Felix and Innie with the baby. They got baby fever and so did I, what can I say :')

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Part two and Three are out!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As soon as you got the call from your best friend's husband, you were overjoyed. The couple had been married for some years by now and really wished to start a family. They encountered some issues along the way, but finally their baby boy was here!

After waiting a day for her to rest a bit, you managed to make arrangements for you and Hyunjin to go see them and the baby and make your congratulations in person. You were both so happy and excited for your friends, knowing for how long they've been wanting to have children.

Around five pm you got dressed, got into the car and headed for the hospital.

"Did you text him already?" your boyfriend asked, placing his free hand on your thigh an softly stroking the clothed skin. You smiled, looking up from your phone and then at him.

"Yes, right now. He told me the floor and room number." you replied, placing your own hand on his, intertwining your fingers. "I'm so happy for them, Hyune. They're gonna be such good parents, don't you think?" a hint of emotion in your voice.

He gazed at you for a second then went back to look at the road ahead, an endearing smile on his face.

"Yes they will. That child really got lucky, he's gonna be so loved." you couldn't help but smile wider and squeeze his hand slightly at his words.

After that, the ride remained in a comfortable silence, the radio softly playing in the background. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm but not overwhelmingly so. Just perfect.

After about fifteen minutes you reached the hospital and Hyunjin took his hand off you to put them both back on the steering wheel to park. You got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance.

You felt his hand search for yours, so you intertwined your fingers and gave him a small smile that he reciprocated. You entered the building and headed for the elevators, reaching the maternity ward in a few minutes.

"This place is a maze, gosh" you commented quietly and he hummed in agreement. Just at that moment you looked around and found the room's number.

"There it is!" you said excitedly, dragging Hyunjin's hand slightly. He chuckled at your smiley face and stood beside you as you knocked gently on the door. A couple of seconds later the door opened, revealing an older woman that you didn't recognize.

You were a bit taken aback but she quickly smiled politely and moved to the side to let you two enter the room.

"Good afternoon, ma'am" Hyunjin bowed his head respectfully and you did the same, offering a polite smile. Before you could even ask, the lady introduced herself as your friend's husband mother and let you inside, closing the door again behind you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, congratulations" you said smiling. She nodded with a happy expression as if to accept the greeting, and then extended her arm towards the other end of the room where you saw your friend laying in bed, a glass of water in her hands.

She was looking over to the side with a smile, towards what you recognized to be her mother and her own husband, whom was gently cradling a small bundle in his arms.

"Your friends are here" the lady next to you announced, reclaiming their attention. Everyone looked in your direction, saying hi to you and Hyunjin and inviting you to come closer. You did, firstly greeting your friend's mother quickly and then bending down to give the new mom a hug.

"Congratulations, I'm so proud of you" you said softly, seeing her eyes a little glassy when you retreated from the hug.

"Thank you, honey. And stop with that face, don't make me cry now!" she exclaimed, pointing at you jokingly. You didn't quite understand which face exactly you were making, but quickly realized that you must've been a little moved too from the little sniffle that you let out. Hyunjin titled his head slightly to see your face at her words.

"Sorry!" you laughed it off casually and circled the bed, getting closer to the new dad whom just smiled as if to invite you to get closer. At the same time, you faintly heard Hyunjin greeting and congratulating your friend too.

"Can I hold him?" you asked quietly, almost timidly. The man nodded with a faint chuckle at your uncertainty and responded "Of course, come here auntie" you smiled and prepared yourself to welcome the baby in your arms as gently as possible.

As soon as he was in your arms you looked down; He was sleeping peacefully, only fussing and moving a little every now and then. The conversations were still going on in the background, but you were completely concentrated on the little guy in your arms.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you look up to see Hyunjin standing behind you, towering over you both. He had a small smile and was also looking down at the baby. You didn't even notice your friend's husband moving on the other side of the room to talk with his mother.

"He has cute chubby cheeks." he commented, a hint of humor in his voice but still endeared. You let out a faint laugh, trying to not move too much. That must've woken him up though, because his little eyelids fluttered revealing his cute eyes. You both smiled at the child.

"Oh, hello there. Did you sleep well, mh?" you cooed, lulling him gently. He blinked a few times, looking curiously at the two of you that clearly weren't his mom and dad. Hyunjin raised his and and slowly extended his fingertip to touch the baby's hand.

"Hi, little one. How are you- ...oh!" he gasped softly when he wrapped his little hand around his pointer finger. You chuckled and awed at the same time, looking up at your boyfriend's face that had a cute shocked expression on his face.

"You're already friends with uncle Hyune!" you joked, smiling down at your new nephew. Hyunjin moved the finger gently up and down to make him play a bit.

"Of course we are! See, he's also smiling at her auntie y/n" he chuckled lovingly when the baby did actually smile at you. It was a shy one at first but seeing you both so excited must've convinced him to allow you a bigger one, his eyes turning into crescents.

"He's so cute!" you whined overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment. "You want to hold him?" he looked at you, a little uncertain.

"I mean, uh..can I?" his gaze searching for one of the parents. At that point you started to feel your cheeks heat up a bit. You forgot that other people were even in the room!

"Sure, go ahead Y/n." your best friend responded with a knowing smile on her face. Still a little embarrassed for forgetting yourself, you gently passed the bundle in Hyunjin's arms. He fixed his position and put him against his chest. He was glad to be wearing a comfortable hoodie in that moment. You didn't say anything for a while, just exchanging silent looks with your boyfriend. The energy between you felt quite intense, but comfortable at the same time.

"See, you guys are already pros at this." you both turned your attention towards the voice. It was your best friend's, which currently had a pretty amused expression on her face. She sipped some juice from her straw and raised an eyebrow at you specifically. You took the hint and shrugged it off with a "Don't be silly, we've been here for five minutes and he was sleeping." you replied, choosing to keep it on the humorous side.

Hyunjin on the other hand was still happily and comfortably cradling the baby, whom seemed to have fallen back asleep in the meantime. You could tell that he started to feel an extra pair of eyes watching him so he decided that it was time to give the kid back to his own parents.

He carefully walked to the opposite end of the bed and with and awkward smile placed the baby back into his father's arms, exchanging a polite nod. He then stepped back again and joined your side, circling your waist with one hand.

"You are a very beautiful couple" one of the two older women commented, with the other jumping in quickly with "How long have you been together?" and "Are you married yet?".

You were a bit shocked at the sudden questions that the two women were throwing at you like dart to a target. You and Hyunjin exchanged a look, both unsure on how to answer. But gladly your friend's husband intervened in your place.

"Mom, stop being nosy. They've only been together for two years, they have plenty of time to think about these things, right?" you both nodded awkwardly.

"All right, all right. The grandmothers have been here all day, I think this our opportunity to say our goodbyes." one said, kissing her daughter on the head and then going towards the father and child to also plant a kiss on his cheek and the little one's head softly.

"Yes I agree, your father has already been waiting for me to get home for an hour. We'll come back tomorrow, my darling." the other lady got on her tippy toes to kiss her son and grandson on the cheek, and then quickly turning to bend down and hug the mom.

"It was a pleasure to meet you both." they got closer, jackets and handbags in hand ready to go. You and Hyunjin bowed your heads again politely. "For us too, ma'ams" your boyfriend replied, before you added a "Have a safe trip home, and good evening".

After that the two older ladies waved goodbye one more time and exited the room, closing the door behind them. You turned to your friend, slightly more comfortable now that you could talk more freely.

"How are you doing? How's the pain?" you reached the side of the bed, sitting opposite to her. She huffed and took another sip of water before replying "Well I mean, my vagina is in shambles right about now, if we want to get into the specifics" everyone laughed except Hyunjin that offered a tight lipped smile, being a little taken aback by your friend's bluntness.

"I am on good stuff now so I'm feeling pretty decently, God help me when the medication wear out though." she kept going. You laughed a bit and then looked up at her husband who was still lulling their son.

"It was worth it though, wasn't it?" you replied, more as a rethorical question than anything. She sighed deeply and reached out to hold the little baby's hand gently.

"Of course it was. He was worth everything." she said, love in her eyes and voice. She exchanged a look with her husband, whom was clearly silently agreeing. You decided to switch your own gaze to Hyunjin, leaving them their private moment.

But what you found was maybe even more intense: your boyfriend whom was now leaning against the wall opposite to you with his arms crossed, head slightly tilted to the side, and an intense expression on his face. You could never mistake the love in Hyunjin's eyes.

You felt your eyes getting teary again so you decided to stand back up and move around a bit, trying to shift the energy in the room.

"In any case, one thing is for sure, this baby boy will be his auntie's best friend. Isn't that right, sweetcheeks?" you smiled at the child that actually did smile back, and even let out a small chuckle.

"Oh wow! I fear that you may be right!" your friend joked, sending funny expressions towards her own baby. "But I don't want auntie y/n to steal you away!" she kept going, making you laugh carelessly, until she added another phrase that made you freeze.

"Hyune, when are you going to give her one of her own?" all the eyes were pointed at him. Your mouth slightly agape, not sure how to respond, but surprisingly his answer was quick and left everyone speechless for a moment.

"Whenever she wants." he replied nonchalant. After a few seconds he detached himself from the wall and calmly walked over the rest of them, caressing the baby's head one more time and then nodding in acknowledgment to both the mom and the dad. "Thank you for allowing us to meet your beautiful son, again, congrats".

He then walked over to you with a small smile,"I have to make a call now so I'll get going to the car. Y/n, you can come when you're ready." he placed a kiss on your mouth, caressed your cheek swiftly and then exited the room. A couple of moments of silence followed, everyone was speechless.

"Damn that was..." the husband began, "Hot." your friend finished the sentence. You picked up your jacket and got ready to say your goodbyes.

"Uh, I think I should go now." you said a little awkwardly, but all you got in return were amused smiles.

"Yes sure y/n, thank you for coming." the man said, leaning forward a bit to peck your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgement at him and waved a bit to the small baby. "Bye little one, let's meet soon" you cooed as he looked up at you with big eyes.

"Thank you for letting us come, and again congrats." you reached down to give your friend a quick hug.

"Yeah yeah of course. Now go to your man, he's waiting for you." then she made the phone sign mouthing at you to call her later. You rolled your eyes and said bye one more time before exiting the room and back to the path for the exit of the hospital.

Your mind was full of questions. You and Hyunjin have been together for about two years now, almost three, and yes you've had those casual questions that one usually asks in the first stages of dating. The ones that go "So are you searching for a serious commitment or do you just want to hook up for a couple of months and that's it?"

Those kind of selective, honest questions. In your case, you had both been clear from the beginning that you were searching for something important, that if evolved in the right direction may end up with some more stable future plans. But you never explicitly talked about getting married nor having a family together.

If you were to be honest, you wouldn't think about it twice. If he proposed to you tonight you would say yes, immediately. If he asked you to have a baby with him, you would immediately say yes. That's the level of love, affection and trust that you had in your relationship, you knew it and he did too. But everything always went on so...smoothly that you didn't even had to bring it up. But maybe tonight was the night.

Those were the thoughts that ran through your mind as you approached the car. Hyunjin was still outside, leaned on it and peacefully scrolling through his phone. His face illuminated by the artificial light in contrast to the reddish, pinkish and orange shades that were in the sky. The sun was setting.

As soon as he noticed your arrival he put the phone in his jeans' backpocket and offered you a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. You melted into it for a couple of seconds, when he retreated.

"Shall we go?" he asked, making you nod. Always the gentlemen, he opened the car door for you and closed it once you were inside. Then he circled the car and got into his own driver's seat. In a couple of minutes he got out of the parking lot and then started driving.

You were in a comfortable silence, as you often were, but you could feel something lingering in the air, almost as if you were both waiting for the other to speak first. In the end you decided to at least start the conversation with something random, just to break the silence.

"Can I turn on the aircon?" his head turned quickly for a second towards you, then he extended his hand himself turning on the fresh air.

"Are you feeling hot?" he asked. His hand moved to rest on your thigh. It was a habit of his when you two were in the car. You were glad that he did that, lifting a bit of pressure from the situation. Or maybe it was you? Did you read too much into what he said?

"Y/n?" his voice reclaimed your attention making you realize that you forgot to respond to him.

"Uh, sorry honey. Yes, just a little." he side eyed you, squeezing your leg just slightly.

"Is something wrong?" his tone was confused but still gentle. You shook your head, taking the hand that was on your thigh and stroking it a little to reassure him.

"No no...I was just lost in thought." you answered, waiting a couple of seconds to continue, "I was very glad to see her doing so well, And the baby, too. So cute, isn't he?" He nodded, smiling softly while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah. I expected some crying though" he laughed softly and you joined him.

"Well, you were very good. He even smiled at you! You're already friends." you joked, still keeping your tone lighthearted. His smile was a bit more serious though. His gaze landed on you for a few seconds.

"You also did very well." he said with sincerity, "We'll do very well." you head snapped in his direction when he said that. He noticed for sure but chose to play it off. You didn't realize that you were already home.

"What do you mean?" you blurted out. He cleared his throat, a blush starting to creep on his cheeks. He maneuvered the car and parked in front of the building. He waited until the car was off and in place to talk. Then he finally turned his body to you,

"I just mean...you know-" he seemed to struggle a bit with his words but you waited patiently. Deep inside you, you already knew where this conversation was going but the amount of emotions that came with it weren't easy to handle.

"I mean that we would probably do a good job in a situation like this. That is of course if you'll want to be with me to experience it." he finally said, a little quickly maybe, but each and every word sank in perfectly in your mind.

"Yes" the response was immediate, "Of course I want to be with you. Of course I would love to have a family with you. I love you so much, Hyunjin. Like I've never loved anyone, ever" you were getting a little choked up, but he just smiled brightly and then leaned in to kiss you softly. Both of his hands going up to cup your cheeks.

"So, if I supposedly asked you to marry me right now..." his eyes, so sweet and hopeful, looking into yours. You smiled, laughing both in happiness and at the absolute absurdity of the situation.

"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" you both laughed and kissed again. His eyes were also getting shiny with emotion.

"I'm going to ask you again properly, ring and everything, I promise." he said, making you chuckle. "I just think that the moment was right." you nodded in agreement, also cupping his cheek.

"I know, I love you" Hyunjin kissed you one more time, lingering for a couple more seconds, then rested his forehead against yours.

"I love you too, so much."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#silentcryracha #my writing #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you

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sh1nch1r0 · 4 months

Text

𝕭𝖆𝖇𝖞

❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁•❁

Shinchiro x Reader

Part (2/2)

After u told him u were pregnant Shin immediately goes into Dad Mode,hes also very protective of you and watches every step that u do around the house….both of u can’t wait to meet ur baby

Tw:Child birth,Complications,Angst,Many Pregnancy and Medical Terms,Birth,Shinchiro beeing a Dad😭🥹

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U heard Shins car pulling into the driveway of ur home as u were sitting on the couch reading a Parenting Book that he had bought a couple of weeks ago.It was so sweet watching him go into Dad Mode,he not only buys parenting books,he also read that if u hold up the Belly of a pregnant person that it reliefs their back cause Babys can get heavy.He did that ever time u cooked or bushed ur teeth cause then he could feel ur tense and exhausted body relaxing against his own.

4 Months have passed since u told him and ur belly grew bigger and heavier by the day,u also had less energy and swollen feet that hurt and cramped a lot so on some days u could barely get up from ur shared bed or the Couch.And unfortunately today was one of these Days.

The Door unlocked and u heard Shins voice in the Hall shouting ur Name and that he was home.He expected u to run into his arms but as u didn’t he was concerned,he finished putting of his shoes and getting into his comfy house slippers.He then rushed into the Living Room where u were.

“Hey Honey how was work?” u asked and sat up a bit straighter,only to be met with not only back pain but also a cramp in your leg which made u hiss in pain.

“Is everything alright?” he asks concerned and sits at the end of the couch.

“My feet are killing me and my back to…” u whine and u lay ur head down on the arm rest.Beeing Pregnant was not easy you knew that but being that exhausted and in pain all the time was blowing ur expectations.

“Can i help i any way Love” your Husband asks and leans forward to put a hand on your Belly.

“No but thanks,i did not make dinner today or i couldn’t make any cause i am trapped on this couch” Shin could hear the disappointment in ur Voice,he knew that u thought it was ur duty to clean and cook and do house work cause he was Working his ass of to pay the bills.Never in a million years would he expect anything from you he lived alone before and hey he was still living and thriving he knew how to handle a household on his own.

“Honey i will make us dinner,and please dont feel guilty for not doing anything cause u are already doing so much for me”he says and presses a kiss against ur forehead.

“What am i doing for your right now?” u ask him cause the only thing u did today or since u were on maternity leave was getting dressed,making breakfast when u could and sitting around till ur pain was better and that was never ur were always in pain the last two months.

“U are growing a Human from scratch that is what ur doing Love,u don’t need to do anything around here i will do it okay.U should rest and relax”he says with a serious look on his face.

“But i am your wife i should help my husband out,i mean u pay for everything”you say and look at him with a sad and disappointed expression.

“U are my Wife.Not my mum.My mom cooked for me washed my clothes and stuff okay.And u are my Wife u are the love of my life for gods sake u should not feel forced to do stuff like that i can do it myself,if u want to do these things fine but never do it cause u should as a Wife” this man will be the death of u he was so understanding and sweet all the time that you would marry him again any day.

U gave him a thankful look and he was off to change before he cooked both of u dinner.

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U tought the Days were the worst part and that everything will be better at night u were so wrong.Not only did ur body hurt like shit ur Baby also kicked u every chance he or she got.It hurt but it was also a sign that there was a life growing inside of you but this life could also be a little bit gentle with the person that was living on the outside you tought.

And so u were awake at 3 in the Morning kicking the cover off of u cause u were too hot and the other moment to cold.And to not wake up Shin who had to get up earlier than he usually does cause Mikeys Racing Team needed new bikes and stuff u wandered off into the nursery.

It was painted in neutral colours cause u did not know the gender yet the crib was built and the Chainging table and a Rocking Chair.U smiled at the thought of Ur Husband brining home this Chair u had voiced to him that u wanted a rocking Chair in the Nursery to read Books to ur baby and he got u a beautiful one with a pattern that matches the colours.

In the next weeks both of u would find out the gender of the Baby both of u did bot care about the gender of the baby “at least our Baby is healthy and happy” Shin always said when u asked him if he wanted a Girl or a Boy.But u knew that Shinchiro wanted a Girl just like Draken and Emma.

Emma had told u that she thinks that its a Girl cause “girls steal away their mother beauty” .Which u could not believe cause Emma was Glowing her entire pregnancy and she gave birth to a Girl.But u lost ur glow the past few months which made u a bit self conscious and sad.But ur Sister in Law always reminded u that u were Beautiful and Perfect and that there was a Baby growing under ur heart and that ur Body was working overtime.She also said that the “Pregnancy Glow” faded away after the 4th Month and that some Women just not have it or they experience it at the end of their Journey.

“Just imagine Me ur Dad and you sitting here playing something with you or reading…” u whisper to ur belly and the baby kicked u as if it could understand you.

“I see you agree my little one..” u say and put a hand on your belly and u felt another kick.The kicks always reminded u of the Moment when ur Husband felt the first kick of ur child.

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The Evening was hot and it started to rain when u and ur lover sat down at the couch he was sitting behind u and held ur belly gently.The feeling of his body against urs was a familiar one and one that made ur soul feel at home.

U both just sat there in peace the only sound was ur synchrone Breathing and the Rain from outside.But then u felt a sudden kick it was a light one but u felt it.

« Did u feel that too » he whispers from behind you.

« Yes our baby kicked me »u whisper back.

« Wow….nature is truly a miracle hmm » he humms and kisses ur hairline.

« Thank you Love » he whispers after a bit of silence.

« For what » u ask.

« For giving me the Chance to be a father and have a family,i am so grateful for you i love u »he says and pulls u closer against his chest.

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This was one of the best moments in ur pregnancy so far,u smile to yourself and rub ur belly gently.

„Is the little one keeping u up?“ a deep and sleepy voice asked u and u turned around.

The darkness of ur home revealed ur lover who looked so done with life and sleepy.

„Yes she keeps kicking me“u say.

„She?…do you know something i dont know“he asks with his arms crossed.

„No but i think its a girl…..something in me says its a girl“u say and get closer to him.

„I mean i have nothing against that if its a boy i wouldn’t be disappointed the only thing that matters is that they are healthy“ he pulls u closer to him and kisses ur lips gently.

„Lets get u back to bed okay?“he says sleepily and u agree.

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Back in bed the kicking started again and u were awake another time.

„Hey my little one in there“ Shin whisper to your belly as he notices ur discomfort.

„Ur mom out here is trying her best to grow you, could you please let her sleep“ he continues,and to ur surprise the kicking stops.U moth to him „it works keep going“ and so he does.

„So when u are older one day,Daddy will take u for a ride on his bike and ohh…one day u will have a bike of ur own i have a good one in mind but u can of course choose one yourself love.“a kiss was pressed against ur belly and with Shinchiros voice and the relief ur body experienced now u fell asleep quickly.

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Those five months passed quickly,and things got better ur backpain was not that strong and ur feet were quiet normal.And to ur and Shins luck both of u found out that u are having a little baby girl.

As both of u found out Shin cried happy tears and u did too.And after that nothing could bring the smile from shins face his wife was having a little girl and he will be a girl dad soon.

Both of u decorated the Nursery in different shades of pink to make it look girly,and everything seemed perfect but that exact evening u noticed that ur Backpain was worsening and that u had several abodem pain……

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It was normal ur midwife had told u ur Body was prepping for Birth and u had something called Braxton Hicks which were false contractions that prepped ur body for the extreme pain of labour.But as the days go by ur false contractions seemed to get worse.They came in 1 to 2 hours and they were so painful that u either need to grab on the nearest thing for support or sit down.

„Love,i know its just these false contractions but please lets go to the gynaecologist and let him check if everythings okay“ ur Husband suggested as u were holding onto him for support as u breathed trough a contraction.

„Okay but he will tell u the same thing as the midwife“u tought.

But ur doctor told u that u were indeed in real labour and that u had to be rushed to the hospital.

It was a shock for both of u cause the baby then would be one and a half weeks early which was not good cause the babys development was not fully completed before the 40th week of pregnancy.

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The Sky was foggy and a Storm was building up outside of the Hospital windows.

U were placed in the maternity ward and the doctors did their best to delay the birth cause the risk of ur baby having complications or u having complications while birth were a bit too high to risk.

U felt like u were going insane in this room u hated hospitals,the smell and the vibe were uncomfortable to you.

But ur Room was a bit more colourful and it had a light that was not too bright and the light color was warmer but it still felt like a hospital.

U were placed on an IC with Tocolytics this medication could delay birth and it seemed to be working well.Cause ur abodem pain reduced a bit.And ur Baby girl she was still kicking u but u could not complain cause u were afraid if she did not she may be dead.It hurt but u at least had a sign that she was okay and alive.

And ur Husband he was glued to you he stayed at the hospital with you he was with u the whole two days u were now here,u begged him to go home to shower and get a bit of comfortable sleep but he refused.In the end both of u agreed that one night but only one night he will sleep at home but in that time Emma and Draken will stay with u for a bit so u agreed.

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As she saw you Emma was in tears u looked stressed and tired ur hair was greasy and a mess and the Robe they gave u was very uncomfortable.

So she proposed the idea that she will wash ur hair and help you get dressed while Draken was bringing theier Child to Mikey and his Girlfriend.

And after a proper hairwash and after u changed into leggins and a Shirt from ur Husband u felt a bit more human and a bit more like yourself.

Emma tried to get u away from ur worries.

„Her Birthday was really nice but her amazing aunt was missing“she told u about ur Nieces Birthday,that u sadly missed cause u were already a day in the hospital and u could not leave.

„I am so sorry Emma“ u whisper.

„Heyy no need to be sorry we are talking about ur Babys and ur Life and Health here she will always be your niece and you will always be her aunt“she coos and lays her hand over yours.

„Shin visited us in the late afternoon,he told us about u and that he needed to go back to you before you wake up.“ she tells u.

„He really Loves u dear,i have never seen my half brother so happy“ her smile was soft and her hand was now holding yours.

„Emma i am scared shitless“ u confess and Emma gave u a small laugh.

„No need to be,u will get trough this and ur baby will too you know why?“ u chook ur head in response.

„Cause u are her mother and u are a strong woman“ she answeres you and u give her a exhausted smile.

And with that u drift of into a well needed slumber.

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Ur Baby was not breathing as they handed her over to you.Her face was pale and her Body lacked any kind of heat,ur world crashed in that moment.U screamed out of pain,pain cause u lost the one thing u loved as much as ur Husband.It was all too much for ur body and everything around u went dark.

A Hand was placed on your Arm and two familiar eyes looked into yours.

„Are you okay Love“ ur Husband asks as u wake up from ur Nightmare.It was a Nightmare was it if not u would loose ur mind.

„Am i still pregnant,is she still alive….Shin tell me“ u say as u panicked.

„Hey…u had a bad dream yes,and u are still pregnant and our baby is doing well“ he assures you and he shifts from his Chair at ur bedside to the mattress u were laying on.He took ur hand in his and pressed a kiss to every finger of ur Hand.

„We will get trough this baby“he says in a calm tone.And leans against ur frame,u craved his presence so much right now u just wanted him closer to you to just hold you close and kiss u.But the IV made that Impossible.

„Shin please hold me“u say and u were close to tear,u shifted a bit to the right for him to lay beside you.And like that u drifted off into a peaceful slumber.While he was beside you.

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The Birth was now only two days away from ur calculated day and the risk was lower that something happens to you and the baby so they got u off of the medication and now u needed to wait.Till u were ready to finally give birth.And as the Doctors finally confirmed that it was time u were a bit relieved that ur pregnancy will be over and also a bit sad.

The Birth was going without any complications and Shin was there every second he held ur hand and u almost broke it by squeezing it so hard,and even if u did he couldn’t care less.Shin knew that labour was painful and exhausting and he tought he could handle it well.But hearing u scream for ur life did things to his heart that almost broke it into pieces.But as u pushed a final Time and u heard a loud cry.Both of u we’re relieved she was here ur Baby Girl was finally here.U looked up at Shin and you could see the tears in his eyes.

Ur newborn was placed on your bare chest moments after,she was perfect she has black hair like Shin and beautiful eyes like you she was the perfect mix of both of u.

« I am so proud of u,i am so proud of u of both of u,had to go tough so much »Shin says in a quiet tone to not upset the newborn who was slowly drifting into sleep.He strokes over her head gently and kisses the top of urs.

« Shes perfect Shin » u say exhausted.

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Both of u were glad to be home after such nerv wrecking Days.

And Shin was the best dad ever,he fed the baby when you couldn’t,he changed her diapers,rocked and read her to sleep and what u found the cutest were the talks he had with her before bed.

U were fresh out of the Shower when u got down and u saw ur husband standing in ur living room the front to ceiling windows open so the coolness of the rain could go into your too warm home.He stood there and rocked her too sleep.

“Daddy will always protect u,and ur daddy will always be there when u need him and so will ur mommy”he coos to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

“And when ur older u can play with ur Cousins,they are very exited too meet u next week”he continues to whisper to the sleeping newborn in his toned arms.

“U have a very loving Family and they all love u very much but ur Mom and i love u way more than them”and with that he notices u standing behind him.U get closer to him and lean ur head against his shoulder and look down at the Human both of u made out of love for each other.

“Thank you” he says quietly and u lean up to kiss him.The sound of the rain calmed all of u down which was all needed.Ur Future was bright with a Family like that and u could not wait for more moments like this to come.

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Thank your for reading this fic.And i think my Browser now thinks i am pregnant 😀😭

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267 notes · View notes

kaliforniahigh · 25 days

Note

Fic request idea? You and Noah have happily been together for a few years. Your next anniversary happens while he's on tour so you secretly coordinate a plan with Matt to surprise Noah in whatever city they're in. After you get to the hotel, you look for Noah. You find him outside by the pool area talking to a pretty girl in a bikini. The girl puts her arm around him and takes a selfie. She keeps her hand on him way too long and gets a flirty look on her face. You've seen other fans interact with Noah and are always unbothered but now you've never felt so jealous and sick to your stomach, so you go back to your room. What you didn't see was Noah politely remove the girl's hand and turn her down. After a brief nap, you still feel really sick and emotional (more so than usual) and Noah doesn't know you're there yet so you debate if you should just go home. You can fill in the next parts but include lots of angst, avoiding each other, avoiding calls/texts, reader still feeling sick, talking about that misunderstanding. It all ends with you telling Noah "I'm pregnant".

I love dad omens :((( Thank you the request. I hope you like it! Hopefully I didn't stray too much from what you wanted.

Warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, reader is insecure, jealousy, a little bit of angst, happy ending. I think that's it. Noah is ecstatic about being a dad.

WC: 4k (I haven't proofread this yet!)

Requests are closed for now.

Eight years was a big milestone. It's been eight years since you've been dating the love of your life. Spending anniversaries apart wasn't anything unsual for you two. Noah was on tour for the most part of the year, and chances are he would be somewhere far away when the day of your anniversary arrived.

This year was no different, he was all the way on the east coast, while you stayed in your California home. But something felt different this time around.

It was no secret you and Noah had a very active sex life, that became even more active whenever he was about to leave for tour. However, you were both very careful every time. He always wore a condom, since you couldn't be on the pill due to health reasons.

A few weeks after he left, you started to feel the first symptoms. At work, you noticed you needed to use the bathroom so frequently, you sworn you were in the bathroom every fifteen minutes to pee.

You felt more tired than usual, almost being late for work a couple of times, since you couldn't open your eyes long enough to get up from the bed.

At first, you thought your immunity might be too low or that you needed to take some vitamins. But when the nausea and vomiting started, it got you more concerned. You decided to check your app to see when was the last time you have gotten your period.

You suspicions were confirmed when you saw that you didn't get your period at all this month. Running to the pharmacy, you thought that buying a pregnancy test was your best option until you could get a consult with your doctor.

While you were cruising the isles, you thought about Noah and how he would feel about this - if the test came out positive. You've been together for a long time, and you've discussed having a family many times over the years. Getting married and having kids were on your agenda, but not for right now.

You were both under 30 and he was so busy with the band, you could see the problem in trying to raise a baby when he was so far away for months on end.

You lived in a different state than the rest of your family, so having a support system here in California would be so difficult. You would be on maternity leave, sure, but at some point you would have to go back to work, and who would take care of your baby then? You didn't want to put them in daycare so early.

Your mind was running with a million thoughts, as you grabbed two Clearblue tests and ran to the checkout line. The cashier noticed your uneasiness and didn't attempt to make any small talk.

Now, you were sat on the toilet as you eyed both tests, gathering the courage to take them, because once you did, the situation would become very real.

You wished Noah was here with you. You didn't care if would freak out or stay calm, you just needed someone to do this with you. You debated calling him, but decided against it. You wouldn't tell him a life-altering information with him on the other side of the country.

You had no other choice, so you took your pants and underwear off to pee on the stick that would probably change your life forever. You watched the countdown on the stick with a bated breath. You looked away, not being able to look at it as it did it's thing.

You gnawed at your nails, biting them and even drawing some blood in the process, legs bouncing incessantly. After a few minutes, you grabbed the test again and looked at the little display.

Pregnant.

Tears welled in your eyes as you put the test back on the counter. Crying was the best response you could conjure up right now, so that's what you did. You sat on the bathroom toilet and cried your eyes out, sobs racking through your body as it became difficult for you to breath.

After minutes of this, your body began to feel exhausted and you seemed to be running out of tears. You tried to breath more evenly now, standing up from the toilet, you washed you face and blew your nose. Not being able to do much else with how emotionally exhausted you were, you decided to just go to bed and sleep this off. Tomorrow was Saturday, so you had the whole day to think about this.

You went under the covers and grabbed your phone, looking at some pictures of baby Noah that he has sent you over the years, a little smile playing on your lips at the sight of him so cute and so small.

You wished for your baby to have his eyes, his beautiful voice and kind heart. You wondered if they would have his dark, straight hair or your light and slightly wavy one. You wanted them to inherit his height so you could get them in some kind of sport, maybe basketball or volleyball. Or maybe their dad would teach them how to play an instrument and they would be in a band as well.

Your heart felt a little lighter at all the scenarios you were conjuring up in your mind. Your eyes felt heavy from all the crying and soon you were plugging your phone to charge on the bed side table, cuddling up to Noah's blanket, drifting off to sleep thinking about the little human you were growing inside of you.

The next day, you texted Matt and started to organize a surprise for Noah on tour. You knew they had a two day break next week, so you would use those days to surprise him and tell the - hopefully good - news.

You spent the week getting your bags ready and the house organized before you left. You even took the time to run to the store and pick up a baby onesie that said "rad like dad" on the front, along with a box for you to put it inside with the pregnancy test you kept.

You thought about scheduling a doctor's appointment before traveling, but you wanted Noah to be there with you, and since tour was wrapping up not too long after you visited, you decided to wait.

Even though you felt like he would be happy with the fact that you were going to have a baby, you still needed to be prepared to talk about your options if needed.

As you sat on the plane, thousands of feet up in the air, you willed the discomfort in your stomach away. You knew that the possibility of you feeling sick on the flight was real, but you would avoid it as much as you could. You rubbed your still flat belly, a silent way to tell your baby to settle down, as you closed your eyes and tried to nap.

The next time you opened your eyes, there was only an hour until you touched down. You coordinated everything with Matt. You had your room you would be staying in to get everything ready for your surprise. It wasn't much, you just planned on leaving the box with the onesie and pregnancy test inside on the bed for him to see when he came into the room.

It was a nice hotel, with a big pool according to what you saw online, and you totally intended on taking advantage of that, soaking in the sun and playing in the water.

After you landed, there was an Uber waiting to take you back to the hotel, Matt assured you they all went out for lunch, so there was no chance of you running into Noah in the middle of the hotel lobby.

Checking in, you took your bags up to your room, taking a few clothes out and hanging them inside the closet. You put your toiletries in the bathroom and took your airplane clothes off in order to take a warm shower and change into some new clothes.

You were drying your hair when your phone pinged with a succesion of text messages.

Noah: Hi, my sweet love. The boys and I went out for lunch and now we're sitting by the pool.

This is the life.

Wish you were here with me. I love you so much.

You smiled the biggest smile of probably the entire week. He had that effect on you every time.

You: Hi, baby! Enjoy the pool for me. Can't wait to see you again! I love you more <3

You replied and decided that a trip downstairs to the pool was in order.

You grabbed the box, onesie and pregnancy test you brought with you and set everything on the bed. You were glad you haven't messed up the bed yet by yanking the covers off, this way everything looked more put together.

You put on your bikini and before you put on one of Noah's shirts over your body, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The thought of having a baby didn't terrify you as much anymore, and you actually pictured yourself sporting a beautiful baby bump, a sign of the love you and Noah shared.

Snapping out of your reverie, you grabbed some sunscreen and your sunglasses and made your way to the pool area. You staked the place out first, trying to sneak up on him.

You saw him in the distance, along with Jolly and Folio. He was taking pictures with a couple of fans and you didn't think much of it, until you observed a little and saw that he seemed awfully comfortable with these barely clothed girls.

You were never jealous, you actually thought the pictures he took with fans were cute most of the time, and he was always respectful, mindful of his hand placement and avoiding getting too close. There were actually a few pictures out there of him doing the hover hand, not wanting to touch another girl's waist.

But this time, not only was his arm wrapped around her middle, his hand was clutching her waist, her body sticking to his, boobs - covered only by the thin cloth of her bikini top - smushed on his chest. You looked at his face for any sign of discomfort, but he was sporting a grin on his lips.

The girl wraps her arm around his torso as the other girl behind the cellphone snaps the picture. As they were separating, she took the opportunity to take his hand in hers, and you saw a look on her face that only another girl would recognize.

It was a look of hunger and she was blatantly flirting with him. His grin never faltered and you were left wondering why in the hell were his hand still holding hers.

You didn't stay to see the rest of their interation, a wave of nausea hitting you and you were sure if you didn't run back to the elevator you would throw up all over the place.

As soon as you entered your hotel room, you barely had the time to close the door behind you and ran to the bathroom, spilling all of the contents in your stomach into the toilet. You threw up until there was nothing left to come out, and you wondered if it was the pregnancy making you feel sick or if it was what you just witnessed.

Either way, you sat on the bathroom floor, all the energy and excitement leaving your body, as well as the confidence you build up about having this baby.

Noah was young, he toured the entire world and met so many new faces. What if one day he decided you weren't enough for him anymore and he needed someone new, someone more exciting. You didn't want to ruin the rest of his life by tying him to you because of your baby. You knew relationships like that always became bitter and hateful.

Your phone buzzed next to you on the bathroom counter and you saw it was a text from Matt.

Matty: We're by the pool. Noah went up to his room, do you want to surprise him there?

You sighed. That was your plan, but it all completely fell apart just minutes ago.

You: I don't feel so good. I think it was the flight.

Matty: I have some medicine in my room, do you want me to drop it off at yours?

You debated on what to tell him. It all felt so painful having to deal with all of this on your own. Maybe talking to someone would do you some good. Matt was always good at giving advice, and he knew Noah as well as you did, maybe he could shine some light in your situation.

You: ok, I need to talk to you, though, it's kind of serious.

Matty: oh shit, I'll be there in 5.

You only had time to brush your teeth before there was a knock on your door. You left the bathroom to answer it and sure enough, Matt was standing on the other side,

"I realized I didn't ask what you were feeling, so I grabbed the whole medicine bag", he held up a bag with a red cross on the front. You could always trust Matt with medicine, he always carried all sorts of things with him.

"It's ok, come on in", you stepped inside and he followed after you. You weren't actually gonna take anything, since you didn't know what you could and couldn't take due to your pregnancy.

"Hmmm", you heard Matt hesitate, before saying "Y/N, am I meant to see this?", you looked over at him and saw him poiting to the surprise on the bed. You have completely forgotten you placed it there before leaving to go to the pool.

"I was about to tell you about that, actually", you sat down on the bed and put your face in your hands.

"This is good, right? We're happy about this?", he questioned as he dragged one of the chairs in the room to sit in front of you.

"We were happy about this, until maybe fifteen minutes ago"

"What happened fifteen minutes ago?", he asked you, noticing the crestfallen look on your face.

"I went down to the pool area to surprise Noah, and I saw him taking pictures with those girls, and I don't know, I felt this monster grow inside of me and I just couldn't take it", you gave him the short version.

"Those girls were very pushy. What did you see?"

"I saw him very happy to be touching the body of a woman who is almost half naked beside him. His face wasn't exactly sad", you rolled your eyes, the images flashing back in your mind.

"Y/N, you only saw half of it, I swear that is not what happened", he told you and you gave him a look for him to keep going. "Ok, so we were sitting on the chairs by the pool, when these two girls approached us and asked for pictures. We said ok, because this happens all the time. They took pictures with everyone and Noah was the last one. He was standing next to her, both of his arms were placed in front of him, and he wasn't touching her at all", he really looked at you when saying this, and you nodded to show him you understood.

"But I guess she wasn't good with that, she grabbed his hand out of nowhere, and forcefully placed it on her waist. He was so shocked, he didn't know what to do. Her friend snapped the first picture and I guess she wasn't happy with that either, because she told him he needed to smile. So she told her friend to take another one. He didn't even share a word with her, because he honestly didn't know what to say or how to act in that situation"

You thought of every other fan interation you've seen him have. He was an introvert and sometimes didn't know how to react to things, specially when fans are involved. You suddently felt angry, not at him, but at the girl coming at him like that.

Was she even a fan? Or did she only want a picture to boast about meeting Noah? And the nerve she had, telling him to smile?

"He went up to his room after the interation, he was very overwhelmed", Matt finished his explanation.

"He must be feeling so bad", you thought out loud.

"He was just uncomfortable, you know how he is about his privacy and personal space", he observed.

"I know. I feel so bad for jumping to conclusions", you sighed out loud.

"Hey, don't feel sorry. You have a whole other thing going on here", he pointed to the pregnancy test.

"About that, I might need your help once again", you told him, a little nervous tilt on your voice.

"Sure, just tell me what to do"

So you told him to text Noah, telling him to come to room 305 - your room - and meet him there.

Matt left with a hug and a good luck, and you paced around the room, thinking about how these next minutes would play out.

A knock on the door came not too long after, you looked in the mirror, realizing you haven't changed out of Noah's shirt from earlier. But you hurried to answer the door anyways.

"Did you change your...", his voice trailed as soon as he saw you standing on the other side of the door. Jaw going slack and eyes widening in surprise.

"Surprise?", you said, opening your arms for him.

"Are you real?" he said in disbelief.

"Hug me and find out", it took him a few seconds for him to snap into action, crashing into your arms and hugging you tight.

"I can't believe you're here, oh my god", he said, hands roaming everywhere and touching every piece of you he could. You parted for a second and looked him in the eye.

"Yeah, I am", you giggled at little at his shocked expression.

"How did you do this?" he asked, taking your face in his hands. Neither one of you caring you were still standing on your door.

"I had a little help from Matt"

"Remind me to thank him later", he gave you a peck on the lips, both of you smiling into the kiss. "Get in that room, I have nothing to do for the rest of the day"

You stopped him from trying to walk you backward into the room.

"I actually have a surprise for you. I need you to close your eyes", you told him, a sheepish look taking over your face.

"Hmm, a surprise? I love that", he wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed and slapped him lightly in the chest.

"It's nothing like that, silly. Now close your eyes", he did as he was told, a smile still lingering on his face. You closed the door behind you and led him to stand in front of the bed.

You stood to his side, wanting to see his every reaction to this information, as you told him to open his eyes.

A million thoughts raced on his head, the first thing he saw was the onesie, "rad like dad" written on it, next was the pregnancy test and he has to lean a little closer to read "pregnant" written on the little display.

"You're pregnant?", he asked, looking at you. His mouth was agape and his eyes were even wider than before.

"Yeah"

"We're having a baby?"

"Yeah"

His hand flew to his mouth, attempting to cover his shocked expression, muttering "oh my god" to himself over and over again. You wouldn't lie, you were starting to freak out a little bit. A few seconds passed before something snapped in him. He gathered you up in his arms, your feet almost lifting from the floor.

"I'm going to be a dad? You're gonna make me a dad?" he asked, face buried in your hair.

"Yeah, you're gonna be a dad", you said, stroking his hair. His body shook a little and you could tell he was crying. You let him have his moment, so you just hugged him and stroked his hair softly. After a few minutes, he parted from you, with eyes glossy and cheeks wet with tears, but his smile was so big, it could light up a whole room.

"You make me the happiest man on this planet, I can't even believe this is real", he still held you close to his body. You suddently felt crazy for ever overthinking this.

"I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty nervous when I found out", you admitted, his smile fell a little at this.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I can imagine finding out you're pregnant by yourself was pretty scary", his hand stroked your cheeks.

"It's ok, you're here now, that's all that matters"

"Take your shirt off", he told you, taking hold of the bottom of your - his - shirt.

"Noah, I don't know about this. I haven't been to a doctor's appointment yet" you said, unsure if you should be doing this.

"I don't mean it like that. Just take your shirt off, please?", you did like he wanted, as he kneeled in front of you.

He splayed both of his hands on your belly and started talking to your baby.

"Hi, sweet girl, this is your dada", he started, and you could die happily in this moment. "I'm so excited to meet you, but it's gonna take a while until we get to do that. Until then, you'll stay warm and healthy in your mommy's belly", he tapped your belly twice to get his point across. Tears welled in your eyes at the sight before you. You have everything you could have possibly wanted in the world.

"Daddy loves you so much already, you're going to be a spoiled little girl when you come to the other side. And you're gonna have the most amazing and beautiful mommy in the world", he looked up at you, to see tears streaming down your face. He got up to kiss them away. "How do you feel about getting married with a baby bump?", he asked you, and you sobbed even harder.

"It sounds really nice", you crashed on his arms, and he moved the both of you to lay on the bed, carefully placing the onesie and pregnancy test on the bed side table.

He cuddled you closer, hand stroking your belly nonstop, a habit he would develop during your pregancy, along with talking and singing to your bump. When you calmed down a little, he got up to turn off the lights and grab the remote, turning the TV on and getting back on the bed, pulling the cover over the both of you.

"Thank you for being the most amazing man on the planet. I honestly wouldn't know what to do without you", you told him, he thanked you with a kiss on the lips.

"The band is taking a break after this tour, and there is no questioning about it. I wanna be there for you through everything. I wanna help decorate her nursery and go to every doctor's appointment", he told with determination.

"You keeping calling the baby a girl", you giggled as you pointed it out.

"I just know it's a girl", he started to draw swirls with his finger over your belly.

"Well, she's gonna be the biggest daddy's girl", you laid your head down on his chest, his soothing movements making you sleepy.

"Damn right she is"

You were about to fall asleep when you felt his body tighten underneath you.

"Oh my god, baby, I had the weirdest fan interation today, I need to tell you about it", you could hear the frustration and annoyance in his voice. You laughed at it.

"Tell me all about it"

151 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 1 year

Text

Something post baby Benjamin blurb :

Mig

Migyel

Migeul

*MIGUEL

f uck

Tipsy fingers typed away as your vision tried to adjust at the little screen of your phone. Girls night out with Jessica and MJ had gone out a bit of control after the third mixed shots of vodka and boozy caipirinhas. MJ was driving, so she drank little. Jessica was tipsy but not as hammered as you were.

The bar and bistro's promo was sure a lovely idea to attract target people like you. Mothers that needed a break from maternity from time to time to enjoy a wonderful night among girl friends.

Whoever that had came up with it deserved a raise, as the place was crowded. The constant cheers of the moms celebrating the little milestones of their families just made the ambience even better.

Miguelitoooo

Mi amor ❤️❤️

Papasitoooo 😘😘

I'll pick you up soon

I wanna slurp you like manudo

*menudo

😋😋🥒

You're sooo hot

Miguel's lips curved as his eyes rolled over the texts. His chest flooded with a warm and shimmy feeling upon the thought of you still believing him handsome and desirable.

Even though years had gone by, and he made an effort in remaining physically active, you loved him all the same.

That made his smile bigger.

He was about to call Gwen to babysit in the meantime, but MJ let him know in the group chat that she was driving.

You arrived, careening your way towards the door and rang the doorbell a couple of times. Jessica just chuckled as Miguel held you by your waist and helped you walk to the room. His hands dexterously peeling your shoes off your feet as you fussed. He sighed

"Quédate quieta" (Stay still)

"No. E-Estoy casada" (Im married)

He chuckled and massaged your feet carefully.

"Is he a good husband?"

"Good?!"

You yelped as he had outright offended you.

"He's the best, wanna..."

You hiccuped as he helped you get comfortable in bed.

"I wanna eat him like the spicy food he loves"

Miguel laughed silently as he draped the warm and soft sheets over you.

You giggled "Nom nom nom."

He approached your temple but you batted him away

"Stop! Imma tell my husband you're... you're..."

"Alright, alright" Miguel rose his hands in defense.

"You better stay in your... sideofthe bed" Your words slurred as you curled into your pillow, mumbling Miguel's name.

Drowsiness took over, drowning any little thought that came your mouth, sleepiness had finally claimed you.

His eyes remained on you, a little sigh, almost dreamy came across his lips. He'd leave a pair of advils and a tall glass of water for you to nurse the headache in the morning.

#miguel o'hara #talking with t✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️

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gguk-n · 3 months

Note

Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.

Track of the Heart

{Reader's POV}

I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.

We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.

That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.

So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.

{Lando's POV}

Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.

--------------------------------------------------------

{Reader's POV}

If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.

Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.

{Lando's POV}

Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.

This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.

{Reader's POV}

The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.

"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.

"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.

I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-

Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.

I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.

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niallsstainedcoffeecup · 4 months

Text

A Scoop of Love

Y/N, a single mother, who no longer believes in love, meets the new ice cream shop owner, Harry Styles. Can she balance a new love, her ex-husband, and her daughter? Or will it all fall apart?

This is a new miniseries I'm working on. Let me know what you think, and if you would like to see anything in the future parts. Lots of love! Love either bloomed beautifully or withered wastefully. Y/N witnessed this first-hand with her parents’ marriage, then her own. Her parents loved one another, from sharing multiple morning kisses before leaving for work to drawing lavender bubble baths for one another after a rough day. She grew up surrounded by love, so naturally, she searched for and planned her true love. They would meet at a bookstore or in a university lecture, and then he would propose after three blissful years of dating. They would get married in the church her parents got married in, she would wear a modern version of her mother’s wedding dress, and there would be bouquets of beautiful pink peonies everywhere. However, a higher being glanced over her plans and laughed.

She met her husband at the first university party she attended. He was in his second year of university, and she was in her first year, but her dark humor and extensive music knowledge kept him entertained all night. They dated for an exciting year filled with morning kisses before she left for class and late-night conversations about their future, and then they were blessed with the news that she was pregnant.

Her parents rejoiced, but his parents forced him to propose. They were married in her parents’ garden, under a floral arch her mother designed, with very few guests because his parents did not want their friends to see the small bump under the maternity wedding dress that she despised. At twenty, she gave birth to their beautiful daughter, Daphne.

The couple attempted to raise their daughter together, but the morning kisses turned to cold glares, and conversations about the future transformed into hate-filled mutters about feeling trapped. A few weeks after their daughter’s third birthday, she divorced the man she planned to spend forever with. Her marriage devoured her hope for love. * * * * *

Oldies from the sixties and seventies flowed from the Bluetooth stereo and throughout the small kitchen. She flipped the sizzling bacon, plated the burning eggs, and buttered the steaming toast. Pausing the music, she listened for movement, like the sound of her daughter’s electric toothbrush or the squeak of those awful shoes her daughter’s school assigned as the required dress code. The sneaky eight-year-old was known for slipping back into bed after her mother returned to her busy morning schedule; however, they could not be late this morning. The bathroom door’s squeaky hinge informed her that Daphne just finished her morning routine and should appear in the kitchen soon. She chugged the remainder of the French vanilla coffee in an attempt to muster all possible energy.

Two bouncing ponytails hovered beside the wooden kitchen table and then descended until they disappeared with a giggle. “Did it look like I was walking downstairs? Daphne asked, hopping up the minute her mother chuckled at the illusion.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her daughter’s small frame. “My little magician. Who taught you that?”

She knew the answer before she asked the question, recalling mornings when her ex-husband would send her into a fit of laughter by claiming he left the eggs downstairs and then descending behind the counter until he reappeared with two eggs in his hands. Late at night, she often wondered what happened to that man. Did she kill his spirit? Or did he reserve that side of himself for people he actually loved?

“Daddy. Will he pick me up after school?” She never knew how to answer these questions. She should have a solid answer, but her ex-husband loved creating excuses as to why he couldn’t watch their daughter during his scheduled weekends.

Instead, she replied by handing her daughter the breakfast plate. “You need to eat breakfast. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

Daphne hopped onto the nearby stool, taking turns between eating breakfast and kicking her feet along with the music’s beat. Her mother rushed around the apartment, shoving expired library books into the young girl’s pink backpack. No matter what time her mother woke up, she was always in a hurry. She couldn’t remember a time when her mother wasn’t busy, even when they visited her grandparents, her mother took it upon herself to cook everyone dinner.

“Are you ready to start our Friday?” Y/N asked, helping the little girl into her black raincoat.

Daphne nodded, flashing her mother a wide, toothy grin before running down the quiet hallway. Shushing the eight-year-old and her heavy feet, she followed her daughter down the stairs and into the real world. She despised Fridays because Fridays looked like her, alone in the apartment with a Chinese delivery and a movie that she ignored in favor of thinking about where her life was headed. Her best friend, Christie, often suggested that they go out and find someone new, but she knew the love of her life wasn’t in a bar waiting for her. Romantic love skipped right over her, so years ago, she decided she would focus on the only love in her life, her daughter. * * * * *

A higher being loved irony, especially when leading her through life. Although her chances at true love were dashed when she signed the divorce papers, she spent the majority of her days photographing random couple’s wedding photos. Sure, she also photographed family portraits, fashion shoots, and other various photography projects, but many of her customers were couples in love.

Today, she was capturing the love between Peter and Samantha, a young couple who planned a Shakespearian wedding, so they dressed as Romeo and Juliet for the wedding invitation photos. She wondered whether Romeo and Juliet were couple goals because wasn’t the play criticizing the societal norms that killed the teens? Peter’s check told her to shut up and do what she did best–photograph the sweet couple. She had about thirty photos before her ex-husband’s ringtone startled everyone in the studio.

She sighed, waving over her assistant, “I’m sorry. Kira will provide you both with champagne while I answer this call.”

Kira poured the champagne for the happy couple, who reassured them they needed a break anyway. She walked away from the small group and farther into the studio’s storage room because her gut knew Tyler’s call was not about what he ate for lunch.

“Hello?” She prepared her heart for the excuse.

She heard shuffling on his end as if he wasn’t expecting her to answer his call. “Hey, I’m sorry to call you at work. How are you?” His deep, hypnotic voice shook with guilt.

The first time she heard that familiar shake in his voice, she thought she still made him nervous. However, she quickly learned that his voice shook when he was about to utter another lame excuse as to why he couldn’t be a father that weekend. She rolled her eyes because she did not have the time for this.

“Tyler, what is it this time?”

He sighed. “I need you to cover for me this weekend. Jo asked me to drive her to the doctor’s office, and she also planned a romantic weekend away.”

A low growl pulled her lips back into a snarl. “You can’t spend time with our daughter because you have to drive your girlfriend to the doctor? Can she not drive herself like an adult? Do you not understand how much Daphne misses you?”

“Listen, I didn’t call you for a lecture on parenting. We all can’t be perfect parents like you.” Tyler hissed, a tone she knew very well from their relationship.

The couple could argue about anything, from when the milk expired to why he never wanted to hold her hand anymore. The passion in their marriage centered around their hatred of one another until, one day, the arguments stopped, and a cold silence enveloped the couple. The heart of their marriage had shriveled up and died.

She chuckled bitterly, running her free hand through her hair. “I’m not asking you to be the perfect parent. I’m asking that you be there for our daughter, and you can’t even do that. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

Tyler ended the call without another word. Did he not respond because he knew she was right? She would break Daphne’s heart when she told her the news, but they would still have an amazing weekend because her daughter deserved it. Sighing, she regained her composure and returned to the lovely couple, whose love reminded her that love was still alive for everyone except her. * * * * *

“He canceled on Daphne again because Joanna needed an uber? Did you tell him to fuck off?” Christie complained as if she were the one who divorced Tyler.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I did tell him to fuck off in parent though. Does Joanna not understand that Daphne misses her father?”

“You mean the woman who ruined your marriage is trying to separate your daughter from her father?” Christie’s sarcasm usually made her laugh, but those words stilled her hand on the computer mouse.

The wedding photo she was editing once again mocked her situation. Her marriage wilted away for two years, but Joanna produced the final drought that destroyed every root and petal.

She recalled the day, replaying the moments as if they were scenes from a movie. She left early that morning, dropping Daphne off with her parents while she went shopping for her daughter’s birthday party. She purchased party hats detailed with a singing, independent princess and ordered two cakes decorated with the same princess and her quirky sidekick. Deciding to surprise her husband with a lunch date, she returned to their apartment, where she found her husband kissing another woman in their kitchen.

The cheating couple spun around toward her, and his only response came in the form of an apathetic mutter, "I thought you would be gone all day." They divorced a few weeks after that. She never cried because Joanna slept with her husband; she cried because the couple shared an emotional connection far deeper than what they ever had. The love in his eyes returned and sparkled brighter than she had ever seen, all for a woman he met five months ago. He found his soulmate, and it wasn’t her.

“Y/N? Hello? Did the call drop?” Christie’s frantic questions rescued her from the dark spiral she fell into.

She gasped, realizing she had fifteen minutes of editing time before she had to pick up Daphne from school. “Yeah, I guess this photo distracted me for a moment. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

The problem with phone calls is that Christie couldn’t spot her friend’s distress. Her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip, her fingers picked at her fingernail polish, and her knee bounced erratically under her desk. The couple’s smile in the photo made her stomach churn with jealousy and sorrow. When would she find her soulmate? Could anyone love her? After downloading the images onto her thumb drive, she locked away the hideous feelings behind her studio’s glass doors and walked toward her sunshine. * * * * *

Daphne dried the hot tears from her cheeks, swallowing the sobs she wished her father could hear so he would cancel the plans that kept him from her. Her watery vision focused on the delicate rings decorating the hand holding her left hand, which provided the warmth and comfort needed to soothe her broken heart. Glancing up, she admired her mother's ever-present smile that never seemed to falter, especially when her father did not have time for her.

After her mother broke the news outside of the primary school, she wiped the tears from her daughter's damp cheeks and mentioned a surprise. Walking down the busy sidewalk, they slowed their pace once Y/N spotted the neon blue sign that read Dream Cones. Two months ago, Daphne returned from a friend's birthday party and raved about the delicious ice cream served. Today, Y/N saw the friend's mother at the school, and she asked for the ice cream shop's name to surprise her daughter. Her daughter's sparkling eyes and enthusiastic giggles revived her heart from her earlier conversation with Tyler and Christie.

“Surprise. Should we go inside?” She asked, already knowing the answer she would receive from her daughter.

Daphne nodded, gripping her mother’s hand with the strength of a hundred sugar-crazed children. Y/N might regret her decision later, like during their bedtime routine, but her daughter deserved a good childhood, and she would strive to provide her with that. As they entered the shop, a golden bell chimed loudly above their heads. “Welcome to Dream Cones.” The men and women cheered from behind the white marble counters. The warm, sugary scent of freshly baked waffle cones greeted their noses. Y/N's eyes flitted around the room, stopping briefly on the cerulean walls, the ornamental vanilla cone hung above the menu, and the wooden tables crowded with laughing families. Despite the conversations melding together into nonsensical noise, she could still pick up the soft pop music flowing through some unseen speaker.

Daphne seemed to speak the words she was thinking, “This place is cool.”

They approached the marble counter, reading the various ice cream labels, which featured unique names like lemonade over ice. She enjoyed the clever names; however, her eyes and stomach could not believe how fluffy and creamy each flavor looked.

“Mommy, will I like Sign of the Limes?” Chuckling at the amusing name, Y/N wondered whether the staff competed to create the unique names or the owner carefully curated each one.

“Yeah, do you want a cup or a cone?” The eight-year-old took a second to consider her options before ultimately choosing the waffle cone.

Y/N nodded, waiting until one of the women behind the counter asked for their order. She ordered the flavor Watermelon Sugar in a cup and Sign of the Limes in a cone for Daphne.

“Watermelon Sugar is my favorite flavor.” The cheerful worker commented, handing out the coral-colored ice cream. “Let me know how you like it.”

“Absolutely, I’m a sucker for anything watermelon flavored.” She giggled, agreeing with her customer that anything watermelon flavored was superior.

“Okay, your total is 23.96.”

Y/N's eyes widened, and she nearly gasped when she heard the price. She appreciated the artistic decor and the friendly workers; however, twelve-dollar ice cream was expensive for a single mother's budget. Smiling through the pain, she handed the woman her card.

“This is delicious. Can we have ice cream every Friday?” Daphne asked between mouthfuls.

Y/N giggled, wiping the messy corners of her daughter’s mouth with a napkin. “Of course.” She would find room in the budget for twelve-dollar ice cream as long as it made her daughter happy.

She stole a spoonful of ice cream from Daphne, which resulted in her daughter shooting her a playful glare, which she fixed by giving her a spoonful of her own ice cream as an equal trade. Between the two flavors, she could not decide which one she enjoyed the most. While she liked how the lime's zestiness did not overpower her palette, the watermelon found a balance between salty and sweet due to the salt crystals disguised as watermelon seeds. However, she knew one thing for sure, she loved the shop. After they finished their treats, they returned to the counter.

“Well, what is the verdict on Watermelon Sugar?” The woman asked, wiping the counters with a wet dishrag.

“Absolutely delicious,” she licked her lips. “Can you give our compliments to your boss?”

The woman nodded fervently, “Of course.” Then she paused, processing her idea before responding with a smirk. “Would you like to tell him yourself? He recently returned from a late meeting.”

Y/N shrugged, unsure about the possible interaction, but she recalled the numerous compliments she received from customers and agreed to the suggestion.

The worker walked away, disappearing behind a door labeled Employees Only. Y/N understood her compliments could brighten the owner's day; however, the longer the woman remained behind the door, the longer she had to overthink the future conversation. What if the owner did not care about her opinion and laughed in her face? What if the owner misunderstood and expected her to complain? Her worries eased once the door swung open, revealing the worker and a Greek God. The moment her eyes fell upon the curly-haired man with his lime-green sweater, her mouth ran dry.

“Hello, I'm the owner, Harry.” The man's low and slow tone melted her heart like ice cream on a summer day.

She smiled dreamily, “Hello, I'm Y/N, and this is my daughter, Daphne.”

Before she could produce a compliment, he turned and faced the little girl. “Hello Daphne, did you enjoy your ice cream?”

She watched in awe; not only did he acknowledge her daughter, but he also cared about her opinion. The girl's father rarely asked about her interests. She reminded herself not to idolize this stranger's kind gesture simply because her ex-husband lacked decent human qualities.

“Yes sir, my mommy bought me a lime cone. She said we could come back every Friday.” Daphne gushed, revealing their plan with a toothy grin.

Harry's smile widened, unveiling two crescent-shaped dimples that dented his cheeks. The man was perfect. “Awesome, you must have a cool mom.”

Daphne agreed, smiling proudly at her mother, who blinked back happy tears. Y/N cleared her throat, feeling slightly embarrassed that her daughter's compliment nearly brought her to tears.

“We appreciate you and your staff. Everyone is so kind, and the ice cream tastes wonderful.” She mumbled timidly.

His crystal green eyes found hers, sending chills down her spine at how they seemed to sparkle from the compliment. He reached up, placing his palms over his heart.

“Thank you. Our customers brighten our day, but compliments like these are the reason why we opened this place. What flavor did you try?”

“Watermelon sugar, and I think I’ll crave it until next Friday.” She giggled, shaking her head in shame over her sweet tooth.

Harry threw his head back, releasing an abrupt cackle that fluttered her heart. Her mind stuttered, questioning why her body was reacting to this man she met five minutes ago. Why did his beautiful laugh make her want to join in?

“Imagine how I must feel working here. I spend a majority of my day in my office because if I didn’t, I would have to reopen my gym membership.”

Now, it was her turn to laugh, a proper boisterous laugh, which she had not heard in quite a while. However, her ex-husband's cruel nature rang loudly in her head, reminding her not to be annoying. She quickly recovered, silencing her laugh and preparing an apology, but before she could speak, Harry settled her doubts and insecurities.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” He admired her melodic laugh.

She ducked her head, hiding her sheepish grin from him. Daphne's eyes traveled back and forth from the curly-haired stranger to her bashful mother. The interaction made her question why her mother and father never laughed or smiled around one another. Did her mother like this man more than her father? Daphne hummed, examining the man further, deciding whether or not she liked him, and since she liked the lamb on his sweater, she decided the man was okay to talk with her mother. However, she needed to leave soon to change out of her uncomfortable shoes.

“Mommy, my feet hurt.”

Daphne's whines reminded Y/N, that as a mother, she should not flirt with random men. She didn’t have time for a relationship and should focus all her efforts on her daughter. Cooing, she lifted the exhausted little girl up into her arms.

“Well, I hope to see you two soon. Daphne, next time try the Lucky Charms ice cream." Harry suggested, waving goodbye to the mother and daughter.

Daphne created a mental note to try the suggested flavor next time. However, she doubted her father would bring her next Friday, so she hoped her mother might bring her back before then. Y/N wondered whether she could return to the ice cream shop. Her heart rejoiced from the attention like a middle schooler who received a note from their secret admirer. However, she could not allow this infatuation to blossom into anything else. She would return because Daphne loved the ice cream, but she would not flirt with the handsome man. * * * * *

Red paint bled through the thin paper and mixed into the watery blue paint, coloring the princess's hair a violent purple. The plastic paint brush fell against the kitchen counter at the familiar sound of jingling keys unlocking the apartment door. The little girl raced toward the door that swung open to reveal her mother’s beaming smile.

“Mommy, I missed you.” Daphne confessed, jumping into her mother’s loving embrace.

Holding her daughter tight, Y/N chuckled and dropped her purse onto the nearby table. “I missed you too, Nugget. Where is your Aunt Christie?”

“She’s cooking dinner in the kitchen before you think I abandoned your daughter.” Christie shouted from the kitchen, making the mother and daughter giggle.

When setting her daughter down, she spotted a bright red paint stain on the girl’s uniform, which transferred onto her blazer. Pressing her palm against her forehead, she hoped Christie bought washable paint so she wouldn’t have to purchase another uniform blouse for Daphne.

“Mommy, come and look at my painting.” Her daughter grabbed her hands, leading her toward the kitchen, and with that simple gesture, her worries about stained clothes washed away.

While some might consider the painting grotesque due to the amount of red paint coating the cartoon princess’s body, she admired the art as if Van Gogh completed the masterpiece himself. She grabbed a yellow alphabet magnet from one of the kitchen’s drawers and hung the art on the fridge.

While the little girl danced with joy, Christie announced, “Watch out world. A new artist has entered the scene, and her name is Daphne.”

Since last Friday, Y/N noticed how Daphne rarely cried over Tyler’s absence, and she finished the wedding photos without any more pity parties. Choosing to ignore her previous stressors, she found herself singing and laughing more often. Eventually, she knew Christie would ask about her sudden change in mood, and the question came during dinner.

"You two seem happier. What happened? Did Daphne pour sugar in your cereal?" Christie wondered, earning a giggle from her niece.

Daphne responded first, answering the questions through a mouthful of broccoli. "No, do you remember when Andrew had delicious ice cream at his birthday party? Mommy took me to that ice cream shop, and I ate an entire scoop."

Christie’s brown eyes widened in pretend shock. “An entire scoop by yourself? Are you sure your Mommy didn’t help you?”

She nodded as if she were convincing her Aunt of something unbelievable. "I did because it tastes like your key-lime pie, but next time, I'm going to try the Lucky Charms flavor because Mr. Harry told me to. I like Mr. Harry. He made Mommy laugh."

At the mention of Harry's name, Y/N ducked her head down like a teenager avoiding an awkward conversation with her mother. Taking an interest in the vegan meatloaf on her plate sounded better than making eye contact with her nosy best friend. However, once Christie cleared her throat, she knew she could not escape the inevitable questioning. Glancing up, she found herself face-to-face with Christie's smirk.

“Who is Harry?” Those three words manifested a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She attempted to shrug nonchalantly to convince her best friend that he was not important, but her robotic movements unveiled her nerves about the subject.

“He owns the ice cream shop. We complimented the shop, and he thanked us.”

Christie knew her best friend better than anyone else, and the slight sparkle in her eyes told her all she needed to know. Y/N finally found a man worthy enough to develop a crush on. This time, she hoped she wouldn't ignore her feelings and allow herself to find happiness.

“Is this Harry attractive?” Y/N squeaked at the straightforward question, which only made Christie laugh loud and long.

Munching on the lumpy mashed potatoes, Daphne watched the women talk about Harry. She noticed how her mother wore the same smile from Friday, the smile showed more teeth, unlike the tight-lip grin she sported around Daphne's father. Her grandmother wore a similar smile when she told her granddaughter the story of how she met her grandfather. Was this what adults call love? Shouldn't her mother love her father?

Y/N took a sip from her glass of red wine before responding, “He could be a Gucci model.”

Christie hissed as if she burnt her hand on something hot. “You caught the attention of a Gucci model, and you didn’t ask him to father your children?”

Y/N gasped, reaching across the table to lightly slap her friend's arm. "Daphne is in the room." She grumbled, shaking her head with embarrassment.

Christie frowned, deciding it best to change the subject. They could discuss the possible Gucci model at a later date when her niece was not around.

Instead, she turned toward the little girl and asked, "Babe, did you tell your mom about music class?"

Daphne gasped, falling into an animated story about how Ms. Lee assigned her the role of drummer in the class band. Y/N hung on every word, but her mind and ears groaned at the mental image of her parents surprising Daphne with her very own drum kit. After that story, they all took turns telling stories from their day until their plates were empty. At the end of the night, Christie hugged them goodbye and informed Y/N that she would call tomorrow for more details about Harry. Once she shut the door, Daphne asked the question that had been on her mind since dinner.

“Do you love Daddy?”

Y/N froze, gaping at her daughter like a fish out of water. Tonight must have been the night for shocking questions because every question caught her off guard. How should she answer? Should she call Tyler before she answers? Her heart uttered the words, just be honest with her.

“I do love your father, but not in the same way that grandma loves grandpa. I want your father to be happy and healthy, but we stopped being in love a long time ago.” She hoped the questions would end there, but her daughter was as curious as her mother.

“Why?”

She hummed, kneeling so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Well, your father and I were very young when we met, and we did not know who we were as people. During our marriage, we both changed and realized that we were better off as friends than husband and wife. I’m sure your father is happy we ended our marriage because he found Joanna, and she makes him happy.”

While Daphne nodded, Y/N could see her mind trying to process the information before coming to the conclusion, “I’m glad that Daddy is happy, but I want you to be happy too.”

Tears blurred the woman’s vision, and she choked through a heartbreaking sob. How could her daughter not see that she was one of the few people who brought her happiness? She shook her head, cupping her daughter’s cheeks. “Baby, you make me the happiest mom in the world. Now, how about we cuddle and watch some cartoons before bed?”

“Yes, can we watch my favorite show?” Daphne asked, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course.” Standing up, she walked into the living room with her daughter by her side. Watching the silly cartoon, they forgot about the heavy conversation and enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N would answer Christie’s questions tomorrow, but today’s conversation with Daphne reminded her that her family was more important than a handsome man. * * * * *

The bright sun peeked out behind the dreary clouds, drying the murky puddles from the sidewalks and streets. Birds flew from the damp branches, lightening the solemn mood with cheerful chirps and songs. People fled from their busy schedules to spend a few moments outside, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of nature.

Since her next client booked a later appointment, she decided to eat lunch at the nearby park. The fork poked at the roasted brussel sprouts while she watched the crowds of people around her, from the family of three setting up a picnic to the lovely couple sharing a lunch before their offices called.

There were moments when her parents dropped all worries and duties to escape into nature for a few days, like the weekend her parents planned an impromptu camping trip because the deadlines became too much, so instead, they taught her how to build a fire and enjoy the music of the critters. She carried that sentiment into her life, finding moments throughout the week to feel the fresh air on her skin. However, her buzzing phone interrupted her second of silent gratitude.

Sighing, she answered the call despite knowing what it would bring. “Hello?”

“Hey, I need a favor. Before you lecture me about the importance of parenting, just know that I will pick up Daphne, but my boss scheduled an emergency afternoon evening. We probably won’t get out until six, so can you watch her until then? I would ask Joanna, but her boss double-booked her.” With wide eyes, she pulled the phone from her ear to double-check that the man speaking with her was her ex-husband.

This man would rather spend time with his daughter than create an excuse to skip out on his fatherly duties. Typically, she could hear the annoyance in his voice as if having a child were a burden. While her heart soared at the possibility that her daughter might finally have a father who took an interest in her life, her mind questioned and created reasons why he suddenly cared about their daughter.

“Of course, should I feed her dinner? Or do you and Joanna have dinner plans?” She asked, thinking of how long it had been since she and Tyler had a civil co-parenting conversation.

He hummed in thought for a second before deciding, “We can feed her. Wait, I almost forgot, could we keep her until Monday?”

Her heart stuttered when she thought about spending the entire weekend away from her daughter. She could not recall the last time she spent more than a few hours, let alone a day, without her. Also, she worried about her ex-husband's fatherly nature. Sure, she wanted him to spend time with their daughter, but she worried that he would not successfully prepare her for a school day.

His reassurance broke her reluctant silence. “Y/N, you can trust me. I have a few pairs of her school uniform, I know her schedule, and I will walk her to the front gates. I can even update you. Please, let me keep her for the weekend.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “Fine, but promise me that you will call me if anything goes wrong.”

Tyler chuckled, shocking her even more because she hadn’t heard that delightful sound in so long. “I promise. Joanna and I planned a Sunday dinner with my parents, and they asked if they could see Daphne, complaining that they haven’t seen her since her birthday party.”

Rolling her eyes, she exhaled the irritation growing in her chest. Her relationship with Tyler's parents was rocky. During their first meeting, they wooed her with luxury cars and expensive food, which differed from the lifestyle she grew up with.

However, once she announced her pregnancy, his parents uninvited her to their events and took to uttering hateful comments about their future granddaughter. Everything about the situation threatened their social status in the gated community. The cruel comments ceased the moment they laid their eyes on the beautiful baby, and instead, they turned their cold glares and vicious whispers toward Y/N.

They criticized her parenting skills and provided unwarranted advice on how to raise a polite young lady. Despite their hostility, Y/N sent frequent updates and planned weekends for them to visit, so their comment to Tyler irked her. If they had not seen Daphne since her birthday party, it was because they chose not to.

“When will your parents stop being so charming? Daphne will be excited to see her grandparents.”

Tyler laughed sarcastically, understanding the trouble his parents caused everyone. “I’m glad that someone will be happy to see them. Well, I better finish these reports. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ending the call, she sat, shocked that they discussed their daughter without starting an argument. Throughout the years, she could count on one hand the amount of civil co-parenting conversations they had. She wondered how long this civility would last and if her advice about being a better father finally permeated his mind. She shook her head, deciding to focus on the positive rather than overthink the conversation until she found a reason to spoil it. If she was on after-school duty, then she and Daphne could stop by Dreams Cones, which meant she might run into Harry again. She leaned her head back, thanking the sun for blessing everyone. * * * * *

Children gathered around the marble counters to speculate about the new ice cream flavor, teenagers borrowed board games from a bookshelf to rid themselves of the pressures from school, and parents claimed tables to discuss upcoming weekend plans.

Daphne sprinted toward the crowd, ignoring her mother’s stern reminder that people do not run indoors. The magenta-colored ice cream gained everyone's attention because, unlike the other flavors, this new sweet treat lacked a name. Instead, someone had scribbled three question marks onto the paper card taped to the glass display.

Harry chose unique names for the other flavors, so she wondered why he hadn't done the same for this one. Perhaps he needed to workshop the name some more, but his excitement insisted that he could not keep the flavor from his customers any longer. Maybe he chose a name but taped the wrong placard to the display.

Breaking her focus from the mystery container, she looked up, expecting to find the grinning woman from their last visit; however, she found herself face to face with the owner’s irresistible dimpled grin. All the air from her lungs became trapped in her throat, and her heart tried beating out of her chest and into his beautiful hands.

“Y/N, I'm happy to see that you and Daphne returned.” The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter wildly. Despite the numerous customers he met daily, he remembered their names and actually sounded happy to see them. She wondered whether or not this man was real.

Locking away her bothersome emotions, she responded rationally and calmly. “Thank you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Well, she tried.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, but once the initial shock cleared, he didn't seem disgusted by her comment. Instead, his warm smile shifted into a smug grin as if her slip-up intrigued him. While he handled the situation with grace, she prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She pictured some higher being cackling at her as she shook her head fervently.

“I'm sorry. I meant to say I haven't stopped thinking about your ice cream. I promise I'm not trying to hit on you." Her mind begged her mouth to shut up. She didn't want him to think she didn't find him attractive. "Not that you aren't incredibly handsome."

Processing the conversation, she groaned and dragged a palm down her face. At that moment, she decided someone could die from embarrassment. She recalled when she could speak normally with people she found attractive, but her skills must be rusty from their lack of use.

An amused chuckle flittered past his rosy lips as he crossed his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying the sight of her squirming and scrambling to correct herself. “Thank you, I needed that today. I woke up feeling unsure about myself. Would it be inappropriate to say that you look beautiful?”

“It's not, thank you.” She mumbled, biting back a bashful grin.

For a moment, she basked in his sweet words, allowing her heart to soar with excitement because he thought she was beautiful. Would she replay this conversation before she fell asleep tonight? Yes, she would repeat his words and alter the situation so that it ends with them on a romantic date. Her dreams were the only space she could be selfish and chase after the life she wanted.

Daphne watched the shy couple flirt with one another, stopping her staring only once to wave and smile at Harry when he looked at her. Thanks to her friends, she realized that her mother might have a crush on the curly-haired man.

During recess, she told Ziva and Andrew about the situation, and they informed her that her mother like-liked Harry. However, Ziva raised an important question, did Daphne want a new father? She didn't know. She never questioned her parent's relationship because her earlier memories always featured her father's girlfriend. Did she wonder why her parents weren't in love like Ziva or Andrew's parents? Yes, but if her father could be happy with Joanna, then her mother deserved happiness too. She was hesitant to replace her father with Harry, but she would accept him because he made her mom happy.

“Hi Daphne, how are you?” He asked, returning her wave.

“I’m excited because I get to spend the weekend with my dad and Joanna.” She announced through a toothy smile.

He glanced at Y/N, scanning her face for negative emotions before returning his attention to the little girl. “I hope you have an excellent time with them. Did you want to surprise your father with a cup of our ice cream?”

She shook her head while her mother answered his question. “Although my ex-husband loves surprises, he despises anything sweet.”

Then Daphne added some vital information, “He’s also allergic to milk.”

Harry chuckled, nodding slowly. “Well, that’s too bad, but at least you can still enjoy ice cream. What flavors will you two be trying today?”

Daphne found herself in a predicament. The Lucky Charm ice cream promised colorful marshmallows and cavity-causing sweetness, but the mystery flavor guaranteed excitement and amazement. What flavor did her mother want? Could she convince her to order the new flavor while she stuck with the safest option? Before Daphne could decide, her mother eased all of her stress.

“I might try the new flavor.” His dimpled grin reappeared at her response.

He nodded once before bouncing toward the purple treat, his head bobbing side-to-side with each step. Elation radiated from his heart and soul, eliminating anyone's sour mood in a two-mile radius. Y/N and Daphne shared an amused look and a giggle before following the man. The short distance between them allowed Y/N to peek at his outfit for the day, which consisted of navy blue dress pants, a pastel blue striped dress shirt (which he folded at the elbow, a look she found herself drooling over), and a sweater vest with white sheep dotted over it. She should hire him as her stylist since her closet consisted of worn shirts and blazers for work.

“Recently, I created a new ice cream flavor, but I struggled with the naming process. I wrote down multiple unoriginal names. Until I had an idea to let my customers choose the new name. If you order the ice cream, you will also receive a slip of paper to write down your idea and drop it in the box by the door. In two weeks, the staff and I will choose our favorite suggestion, and the winner will receive free ice cream for a month.” Once Harry finished his announcement, she realized a crowd of curious customers had gathered around them. Perhaps she should have paid attention to the contest rules instead of watching his rosy lips curve around each word.

“How fun and creative. Can I have one scoop of the mystery flavor in a cup, and a–” she paused, realizing she hadn’t asked Daphne what flavor she wanted.

Luckily, he heard the lull in her speech and jumped in where she left off, “Daphne, what flavor would you like?”

“Lucky Charms in a cone.” Daphne's anxious heart rested easy because now she could taste both flavors without the risk of wasting her Friday treat on an icky treat.

Before scooping the sweet treat, he readjusted his sleeves, pushing the starchy material further up his arm. Y/N couldn't help but admire the concentrated crinkle between his eyebrows as he created the perfect scoop. Her knees even went weak when his pink tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip. Why did this man have such a powerful effect on her? Was she really that lonely? Her mind reminded her heart that true love did not exist, and her feelings were caused by a chemical reaction.

“Here you go, love. Be careful, the cone is a bit messy.” He mumbled, handing her their order. While reaching for the cone, her fingers brushed against his soft hands, sending her heart into a frenzy. What did her brain know about love?

Before Harry could ring up the two scoops, two teenagers shouted their orders at him. He appeared hesitant, stuck between helping these new customers and continuing his conversation with them. However, he chose the former in an attempt to ease the customers’ scowls. Another cheerful staff member informed Y/N that he could finish where his boss left off, and although she doubted that, she followed him to the register.

“What does the flavor remind you of?” She asked, processing the tangy yet fruity flavors dancing along her tongue. Did she taste blueberry or blackberry? When was the last time she ate a blackberry?

Her daughter hummed, tapping the spoon’s handle against her chin. “Christmas.”

Confusion halted all other thoughts about the flavor. Instead, she chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Christmas? Why?”

The little girl shrugged, delving into her well-thought-out response, “Every Christmas morning, Grandma surprises us with blueberry muffins, and when I taste this, I miss Christmas and Grandma.”

In parenthood, there were many moments when a child might say something sweet, which not only made the parent proud of the small person they were raising but also brought tears to their eyes. She rubbed the corners of her eyes, catching any stray tears from rolling down her cheeks. When she missed her parents, she would replay memories of Christmas mornings in her mind because they radiated love and happiness, and now, she learned that her daughter also cherished those moments.

“Well, we should suggest the name, Christmas morning.” A gleeful giggle bubbled past Daphne's lips as she watched her mom write down the name on the slip of paper. “Should we leave? Your father should be at the apartment soon.”

Daphne nodded, sliding off the chair. “I can’t wait to see Daddy. Do you think he’ll take me to the zoo?”

While her daughter bombarded her with questions about the weekend, Y/N glanced over at Harry, wondering whether she should say goodbye; however, his furrowed brows and the crowded counter convinced her to walk away. Dropping the paper slip into the box by the door, she answered a few of her daughter’s twenty questions. She ignored the painful tug in her heart caused by the thought that she wouldn’t see Harry until next Friday.

Reigning in her emotions, she reminded herself that she did not have time to date. Also, why would Harry want to date a single mother? She pictured him dating a beautiful, up-and-coming model who spent her free time ending world hunger. He belonged with someone as wonderful as he was and who did not have as much baggage as she did. Thankfully, Daphne pulled her mother from another spiral with a hilarious joke about cows and movies. Laughter dissolved her stress as she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, bringing her ball of sunshine closer so that her gray clouds might float away. * * * * *

Neon-pink lights illuminated the dark room while trendy music blared from a nearby speaker. Draping a feathery boa around her shoulders, an optimistic university student discussed her dreams about the future. She imagined exploring unknown locations, tasting world cuisine, meeting new people, and falling in love with strangers. She might even find her soulmate on a beach in Greece. While the camera captured the young woman's beauty, Y/N listened intently as if this girl were her daughter. Through a warm smile, she showed her support for the young woman and her aspirations because they reminded her of the goals she made before meeting Tyler. However, she hoped no one derailed this woman from achieving her dreams.

“Scrolling through the photos, the woman gasped. “Wow, you made me look beautiful.” She whispered in awe, selecting the perfect one for her birthday Instagram post.

Y/N chuckled, returning the extra props to the storage room. Since her next appointment was after lunch, she would reorganize the items once the customer left. Easy days, like today, were great because they allowed her to catch up on simple tasks she kept putting off. If she bribed her assistant, Kira, into helping, they might be able to leave earlier for lunch.

“Remember, the camera captures the art. You were always beautiful. I hope you have an excellent birthday.”

The young woman pouted her lips and cupped her chest. “Thank you. Can I give you a hug?”

The woman briefly hugged Y/N, then spun around and walked out as if she were on her next mission, but not without almost bumping into Kira at the door.

“She’s in a hurry,” Kira mumbled, glancing back at the young woman getting into her Uber ride.

Y/N grinned. "It's her birthday, so she scheduled a self-love day. What did you bring me?" She asked, eyeing the two plastic cups filled with iced coffee.

Growing up, she despised coffee and coffee-flavored products. However, once she gave birth to Daphne, her body craved the extra energy, juggling between university classes and a newborn baby. As long as she flavored the drink with creams and syrups, she could find the strength within to swallow the liquid. Now, her body could not function without an ounce of coffee coursing through her veins.

“I ordered two brown sugar coffees with oat milk. Have we tried that one?” Her assistant asked, handing her the cold drink.

Every week, they ordered a drink they hadn’t tried before, but she also didn’t remember trying this drink, so it had to be new. She shook her head, sipping the caffeinated beverage, immediately tasting the harsh, bitter coffee notes rather than the sugary sweetness she was used to. She couldn’t disappoint her assistant, who appeared to love the drink by the speed at which she was drinking it, so she hummed and nodded her head as if the drink impressed her.

“Thank you. It's delicious, but I miss my usual order." She lied partially because she did miss her favorite caramel-flavored coffee, but she did not enjoy the new drink.

“I'm glad we tried something new,” Kira admitted before glancing at the crowded storage room. “Do you need help reorganizing the props?”

She nodded. “If we finish early enough, we can have a long lunch.”

“Sure thing.” Kira followed her toward the room, pausing the moment she remembered the last-minute appointment she had not added to her boss's calendar. “Wait, I scheduled an eleven o’clock appointment. The client’s name is Gemma Styles. She and her brother want to surprise their mother with a sibling portrait.”

“Okay, that sounds easy enough.” She mumbled, loading a few props into her arms. “Will you stay at the front desk and wait for them?”

While tidying the storage room, Y/N thought about Daphne and the weekend. Tyler's parenting skills surprised her. He planned a zoo visit, sent her photos of Daphne with the flamingos, and called her every night so their daughter could say goodnight. He hadn’t been a present parent for two years, but she couldn’t be happier that something or someone finally woke that side of him up.

Her only complaint involved the lack of information about yesterday’s dinner with his parents. When she asked about his parents, he avoided the subject, which meant they either criticized his parenting skills or hers, but curiosity bubbled within. What did they say? If it was about her, did he stand up for her? Was it about Joanna? She hoped Daphne could answer these questions when she picked her up from school.

“Welcome to Artistic Lens. My name is Kira. How may I help you?” Kira’s question announced the arrival of her afternoon clients. “Hello, I’m Harry. This is my sister Gemma.” Her ears perked up the moment she heard his angelic voice.

Her hands paused their movements while her mind raised questions. Was Harry actually in her studio? Did he know she owned this space? Is that why he chose this location? Wiping the sweat from her palms onto her jeans, she ignored the questions distracting her from moving. She cleared her throat, reminding herself to remain professional because he was her client first and potential crush second. She could not afford another slip-up like the last time they spoke.

She spotted his curly locks first, then his floral sweater, which featured an array of bright colors like turquoise and sunflower yellow. Gemma, his sister, wore a floral dress that contained similar colors to her brother's outfit. The siblings shared characteristics, such as their astounding beauty and cheek dimples. She wondered if they had tried modeling. She could picture them walking the runway in Gucci, Bode, and other big-name designers.

“Hello, I'm Y/N, and I'm the photographer.” She plastered her best customer service grin onto her face to appear unbothered.

When he heard her voice, Harry experienced four distinct emotions: confusion, realization, happiness, and lastly, embarrassment. A sheepish grin unraveled across his face while his eyes met hers once before glancing around the room. She smiled at his sister, chalking up his shy behavior as his reaction to seeing her outside the ice cream parlor, like a student seeing their teacher out in the wild. However, Kira and Gemma witnessed the interaction, leading his sister to embarrass him further.

“It’s lovely to meet you. Harry, didn’t you just tell me about a woman named Y/N, who you found very—” Harry’s eyes widened, and his hands covered his sister’s mouth before she could finish her sentence.

While Gemma shoved her brother away, Kira and Y/N shared an amused look. He huffed, fixing his posture and rolling his eyes. Y/N giggled, finding the entire situation sweet and flattering because, according to his sister, Harry talked about her.

“Harry and I have met. My daughter and I love his ice cream shop. Now, tell me about your vision.”

She moved the conversation forward and away from their flirty friendship, watching his shoulders deflate and his dimpled grin return as if he could finally relax.

“Our mom always complains that we never take pictures together anymore, so we planned on surprising her with photos of us.” Gemma explained, obviously taking charge of the surprise.

Y/N nodded, motioning toward her camera and the backdrops. “Great, we can get started over there. Kira, will you bring us the wooden bench from the storage room?” While her assistant disappeared to the storage room, she positioned the Styles siblings in front of the gray backdrop.

Before beginning the photoshoot, she checked the lighting, flipped through the camera settings, and examined their outfits. Harry paired his bright sweater with beige pants, and Gemma tied a pink scarf around her neck to match the peonies on her brother's top. She feared the light colors might wash out the siblings; however, the camera captured their beauty and radiating glow.

“You both look amazing. I selected your first pose, but feel free to move and pose as you like. I want the photos to look natural rather than two perfectly still models.” She explained, snapping a few test shots.

Kira returned shortly with the bench, placing the item beside the backdrop. "Should I turn on your playlist?"

She nodded, “Sure, unless Gemma or Harry, do you want to play a certain playlist?” Lifting her head from the camera, she saw Harry shaking his head.

“No, you should play your music. People find my music taste—” He paused, rummaging through his mind for the correct word to describe his music, but Gemma responded for her brother before he could even stop her, “Eclectic.”

“Yes, so please, play whatever you like.” His eager smile contained a level of excitement that she found endearing, almost as if he truly wanted to learn what music she loved.

Shuffling the playlist, she smiled when her favorite singer crooned through the speaker.

“I love this song,” Harry confessed, bopping his head to the beat.

“Me too. Don't you want to sing along?” She asked, humming with the love-sick singer.

She pictured a life where she and her spouse would listen to this music while cooking dinner. A life where they would sing along, off-key, of course, while chopping vegetables. Her spouse would grab Daphne's hands and dance with her around the kitchen. She would capture these important moments with her camera. A room overflowing with love and laughter.

Lately, these daydreams featured a curly-haired, green-eyed man. His hands would grip her hips, spinning her around and away from the cutting board while he hummed some romantic song. They would waltz around the kitchen, discussing their days in hushed whispers. Eventually, he would let her finish dinner while he helped Daphne with schoolwork. During these moments, she believed someone as handsome as Harry could love her.

Gemma chuckled, shaking her head while finding a new pose. “You don’t want me to sing. Unlike Harry, some of us weren’t born with an amazing voice. Did you know he was in a band?”

Her head shot up from the camera as she blinked the shock away. Harry, feeling sheepish again, twiddled his thumbs while she stared at him in awe. “First, who cares if we suck at singing? We should sing along anyway. Second, you were in a band? Please tell me more.”

While dragging his fingers through his hair, a nervous chuckle fumbled past his rosy lips. “When I was fourteen, me and my mates decided to start a band. Our parents and friends hired us for local events, but the band barely survived two years.”

“During his university years, he performed solo at pubs.” Gemma added, smiling proudly at her brother.

Y/N smiled through her shock. During their university years, she and Tyler spent many weekends at pubs, and now, she wondered if she and Harry were ever in the same room. However, she thinks she would have remembered his angelic voice and alluring presence.

“Well, I think that’s amazing. You are quite the catch, Harry.” She winked, bringing back his dimpled grin.

Continuing the photoshoot, Y/N focused on backdrops, props, and poses. Everyone fell into a comfortable silence, only speaking when Gemma mentioned a topic she planned on discussing on her podcast. During these moments, Y/N agreed with her positive attitudes and views. She could see Gemma joining her and Christie for Sunday brunch, where they could gossip and laugh over mimosas. Should she befriend the sister of the man she was crushing on? Her eyes washed over him, admiring the sparkle in his green eyes and the two tattooed swallows on his chest. She paused. When did this gentle, shy man get two tattoos? Were there more?

“You have a tattoo.” What should have been a question came out as a statement, one that made Harry scan his body as if searching for which tattoo might be on display, which only answered her question that there must be more than the two on his chest, then with a furrowed brow and worried eyes, he made eye contact with her intrigued ones.

He cleared his throat before speaking up. “Yeah, I have multiple tattoos. During uni, my mate bought a tattoo gun, which resulted in many stupid tattoos, but I don’t regret them. They remind me of a different time.”

While listening to his explanation, her heart fluttered. “That’s incredibly sweet. I want a tattoo, but I’m terrified of needles. I nearly fainted when the nurses gave me the epidural for Daphne’s birth.” Her confession made the siblings chuckle.

“I was like that during my first tattoo, but now, I'm a pro. If you really want one, I could come with you to keep you company." He stuttered through the end of the sentence as if his mind processed what his mouth said. “Unless you want to bring anyone else who isn’t a complete stranger to you.” He rambled, trying to fix his earlier statement.

She shook her head with an amused giggle. “Harry, you aren’t a complete stranger. I’m very touched by your offer, and if I ever decide to get a tattoo, you will be the first person I call.”

He sighed with relief, dropping his shoulders down from his ears. Gemma observed the interaction, noting her brother's unusual behavior. Throughout her life, she witnessed Harry's confidence first-hand. From the moment he could talk, he loved being the center of attention, and his charming attitude introduced him to more relationships than she could remember. She recalled a time when he tripped over a rug, ripped his pants, and still received a phone number from the person he was chatting up. His confidence carried him through life, and she had never seen it falter until she watched her brother flirt with the photographer.

“Okay, we are all done. I think your mother will love these.” Y/N bragged because although she captured the magic, she couldn’t have done it without Gemma and Harry’s natural beauty and warmth.

“Thank you so much.” Gemma giggled with excitement, wrapping her arms around the photographer’s body.

Y/N chuckled, returning the comforting hug. She spotted Harry’s warm smile over Gemma’s shoulder, which served as his “thank you” for the photographs and for entertaining his sister. The smile resembled that of a loving boyfriend, happy that his girlfriend impressed his family. Her stomach clenched with butterflies at the idea of Harry as her boyfriend.

She pulled away from the hug, dropping her gaze from him. “Once I edit the photos, I’ll send them to you. Should I have any questions, is the number on file a good one to reach you at?”

Gemma nodded, then hummed as if a thought just struck her. “Well, I probably won’t answer if I’m in an interview.” She turned toward her brother with a mischievous grin, revealing her intentions. “You should give her your number too. You answer the phone more than I do.”

He nodded once, scribbling his number onto the contact sheet Kira provided them. Y/N could sense his annoyance with Gemma's constant embarrassing comments, so she planned to make the rest of the interaction fast and painless. She handed Kira the sheet, which they would file later, and then faced the siblings.

“Great, I hope you two have an excellent day.” Y/N smiled.

Harry mumbled a “you too” under his breath, shuffling toward the glass door, unlike his sister, who had one more plan up her sleeves. “Wait, have you eaten lunch? Harry and I would love to treat you to lunch as a thank you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing with every reason why she should not accept the invitation. Harry noticed the hesitation in her eyes, which landed on his, and searched for any sign that he did not want her to join them, but all she found was a warm welcome.

“You should come. I’d love to get to know you more.” He spoke up, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N nodded, matching his dazed grin. “Well, I’m never one to turn down a free lunch. I would love to join you.”

#mine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #new series

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bunnys-kisses · 5 months

Text

jailhouse rock au - again! (master-list) <3

i imagine that simon would get rather insecure when you two were in public. while he adored you, he'd move the sun across the sky for you! but shouldn't you be with someone better?

someone who wasn't working a blue collar job in small parts manufacturing, who wasn't a former criminal? like simon stole and was locked away in the can for several years because of it! what kind of man would look a woman like you in the eyes and you'd say, 'i want you.', it left a clench in his gut that he couldn't get over.

he wanted to be good enough, but failed. just like he failed at being good enough for his father. sometimes his old man's words made him shiver at inopportune times.

"simon." you said.

"yes, love." his attention was drawn to you.

you leaned over, closer to him and rubbed his forehead softly, "you're getting worry lines."

he leaned in to kiss you, his hands were on your legs that were draped over his lap. he said, "sorry, love."

but no matter how much the anxiety bit at him, you loved him with your whole heart. you never shielded your love away from him, you found that when you were with him, you simply lit up. you could do all the mushy couples stuff together.

"we should go on the ferris wheel!"

"look there's a photobooth over there."

"i'm grabbing another straw to try some of that milkshake of yours!"

and simon ate it up. and as you got further into your pregnancy, you became more "mushy" as you said. you'd cry more often, but you weren't a weak woman. if anything you still commanded your little household more than before. because now simon couldn't say no to his pregnant girlfriend.

"yes, love." he said to your request as he was nuzzled up with your belly. he basked in its warmth for a minute before he got up to do what you asked.

your life wasn't without arguments, simon could be closed off and have a dark storm cloud over his head. but he would never tell you why, it drove you crazy when it happened. you knew so much yet so little, you had his entire life mapped out but his childhood (the root of some of his issues) was entirely blank in your memory.

"speak to me, simon... i'll never judge."

"i don't wanna scare ya off."

you reached out for him and got as close as you could. you stood on your tiptoes to be more eye level. you held onto his face and said simply, "simon, if i was scared off. i would've never sent that letter."

and simon replied, "never leave." and pulled you into a tight hug. and for the first time in many years, he cried. he cried so hard that he had to go on his knees with you because he felt so weak.

he was your lover, your pen pal! he was everything. and as you kissed him on the cheek you said, "nothing will ever take us away from one another."

later that evening, you thought you'd be sweet and feed him crisps from the bag while his head was in your lap. while he softly licked the seasoning off your fingers, you let out a small moan.

simon smiled a bit, his heart of ice was completely melted with you. and with a hand up the skirt of your maternity dress. his tongue was on your fingers while his fingers were skimming your pussy.

"tomorrow." you said, "i want to know everything i can about simon riley."

he looked up at you with those dark eyes of his. he nodded and said, "of course, love. now c'mere."

let's say that the most fun you ever had having sex with him up to that point was when he took you on the couch. however it did leave you with a pretty bruise on your knees from pressed into the base of the couch while you rode him. <3

#bunny writes #jailhouse rock au #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut

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minniesmutt · 5 months

Text

⚠︎ ━━━ MATERNITY LEAVE

⚠︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 10 + 0.4k

⚠︎ ━━━ CONTENT: uzzlang for pose reference

“I’m back!” Jeongin called into the apartment

Y/n glanced up from her laptop and looked towards the apartment door. Smiling as he walked into the living room. Leaning down to kiss her, “How’d the meeting go?” she asked

“HR is doing some investigation but it’s looking like i have to fire someone,” Jeongin sighed and sat down

“Sounds like fun,” Y/n laid her head on his shoulder

“Yeah. Favorite part of owning a company,” Jeongin wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Speaking of companies. My dad’s company is hosting a banquet next week and he asked me to bring you.”

“Okay, I’ll be your date,” Y/n smiled

“There’s gonna be people from other companies there. They’re gonna ask about you.”

“And what are you going to tell them?” Y/n sat up and turned to him

“I wanna tell them you're my girlfriend but, what do you think?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because my world is different from yours. You’ll get a lot more attention than you’re used to. And our little guy is going to get it too.”

Y/n leaned forward and pecked his lips, “I knew that when we got together. I knew our baby was going to get the attention too. We can talk about him when I'm closer to the due date, but I'm fine with a little more attention.”

Jeongin smiled, “Good. I was worried about what you would think about it all.”

“Why?”

“I might sound like a loser but you're the first serious relationship I’ve had so in my mind this is a big deal.”

“You never had a serious relationship before?”

“That’s what you focused on?” Jeongin laughed

“Yes! Am I really your first serious relationship? Did you not date anyone before me?!”

“I did but they never lasted. Most of the time, girls didn’t like the fact my best friend was a girl and i don’t think it helped i was always with (Astrid) because of stuff that was going on at her home. I didn’t really work through it till we kind of fell off for a couple years.” Jeongin explained, “After I went to college, i just settled for hookups”

“Girls were mad about (Astrid)?”

“It was when her depression was bad and I chose to be there for my friend even though she told me I didn't have to be.”

Y/n smiled and pecked his lips again, “I hope our son is as good of a person as his dad is.”

Jeongin smiled and pulled her in for a kiss again.

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facioleeknow · 6 months

Text

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him.

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern.

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him.

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

“What do you mean sir?”

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?”

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature?

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.”

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.”

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes.

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left.

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice.

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you.

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts.

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.”

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

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rubra-wav · 6 months

Note

YES YAY YAY YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN

There was a post a while a back you did where it was a toriel like reader and you mentioned Lucifer becoming your ‘adopted husband’.

PLEASE WRITE ONE ABOUT THAT - aGOUNG FROM PLATONIC TO ROMANTIC WOULD BE AMAZING (or platonic is just fine but I WOULD LOVE ANY VERSION OF THIS SM)

Fem reader I’d love but also I don’t mind if it’s gn reader just. THE CONCEPT OF HIM BECOMING ADOPTED HUSBAND FO SOMEONE SUPER CARETAKING OR LIKE TORIEL IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA

Lucifer x reader - 'Adopted husband'

<< [ Part 1 ]

A/N Plsssss I'm so happy you were so excited for this to be written anon hsjsjdjsj

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, platonic to romantic, hurt/comfort - fluff ensues after depressing stuff, mutually awkward confession, suggestive type territory at one point

- You handle his daughter behind the counter of the kitchen with such care as you put the finishing touches on the baked goods you are bringing out, all the while animatedly talking about things he doesn't know of or understand.

- You, someone who is not even her parent, is acting all so maternal and close to his daughter.

- The gaping hole in his heart aches at the sight.

- He's filled with jealousy and despair that he allowed his daughter to drift so far away from him that she'd had the time to attach to someone else to fill what assuredly existed to Charlie about him and her mother as well.

- But he can't even bring himself to be angry at you.

- You greet him kindly and oh-so warmly. Unlike Alastor, it's clear that you truly care for his daughter like a parent. There doesn't seem to be a bad intentioned bone in your body about his daughter's attachment to you.

- The whole exchange he feels all too distant. Feels like he's just intruding on you and Charlie - an outsider to his own daughter.

- He says goodbye after a cordial afternoon tea, but as he goes to leave he finds himself stopped by you.

- He's snapped out of his depressing reverie as you looked him in the eyes very seriously, hand gently holding his arm.

- "I want to say, I'm not trying to steal her away from you," you preface before your brow furrows. "From what she's told me, you weren't okay either after Lilith left. You weren't okay for a while."

- Lucifer opens his mouth to speak as a conflicting mixture of embarrassment and feeling truly seen for the first time in thousands of years well up in him, but he stops and goes bright red as you pull him into a tight hug.

- His heart goes crazy in his chest, and he fights but can't stop the way tears well up in his eyes. He crumples against you and rests his head on your shoulder.

- Thank God it was a less popular hallway to travel down where you two had some privacy because crying against the stranger who had become a caretaker to his daughter would be a lot even for him.

- After a couple of seconds, you pull back much to his disappointment and tell him with a sympathetic but also stern expression that you wanted him to play more of a real role in Charlie's life alongside you, and that you'd be willing to help him through what he was dealing with in the process.

- And well, he of course agreed.

- It really did not take long at all for him to fall in love with you. It wasn't a slow process.

- He watched how you bridged the gap between him and Charlie, caring for her like Lilith should have and also caring for him like Lilith should have and was stumbling head over heels almost instantly.

- In the days spent with you, he basked in your platonic care of him, gentle encouragement, validation, and helping him take care of himself better where he'd ignored it.

- In the nights, though, he stayed up at night sleeplessly, heart longing desperately for more with you. Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you, what it would be like to cuddle up to you with no sense of it just being in a friendly way, and above all; if you felt the same way.

- He had it bad, and he was terrified.

- His past history of love didn't exactly end well. He fell head first hard, and then they turned out bad in the end. Left him all alone and beaten down.

- This of course changed, however.

- You had proposed a picnic with him and Charlie in a place that was relatively untouched by hell's disgusting burning flesh stench and pollution in the middle of a field.

- The sun had shone brightly on you as you sat on a red checkered rug, not too hot but not cold either.

- At one point, Charlie ran after a group of butterflies with patterns she had never seen before.

- You two were left alone to leisurely munch on buttery biscuits as playful banter was exchanged.

- You laced your fingers together in your lap as you smiled softly at him. Lucifer animatedly discussed something he was trying to make to help demons become more redeemable to push them towards the hotel.

- You normally would just have listened, nodding along, but something slipped out impulsively instead. "You're so cute."

- Lucifer choked on his words, already rosy cheeks darkening further. "I-" Lucifer stuttered.

- He watched you fumble over your words, mutually embarrassed and shocked at what you had blurted out. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me-"

- "I think you are too!" Lucifer exclaimed.

- You felt yourself somewhat awkwardly go quiet. You'd come to admire him as he had you, but you didn't wish to push further just in case it really was just him wanting someone like a spouse.

- "I like you a lot (name). And I uh- I have for a long time. I want you to be closer to you-" Lucifer fumbled over his words, adrenaline making his brain stupid.

- "Would you marry me?" He choked awkwardly, panicking.

- You snickered in disbelief, putting a hand over your mouth to keep from openly laughing.

- "Wait, no- that's not - would you be my actual spouse- wait, uh, that's not right either-" Lucifer was just getting more and more flustered, various iterations of marriage requests tumbling from his mouth like word vomit as he grew more embarrassed.

- It came to an abrupt end, however, as you pressed your lips to his gently, closing the space between you.

- Lucifer's hands flew up to your shoulders as if to tether himself as his mind went fully blank as your lips softly moved against his, prompting his heart rate to absolutely sky-rocket.

- You slowly pulled back from him, noticing that he wasn't reciprocating at all and feared you'd made an error in kissing him.

- Your instinct to apologise was stopped short however, as you noticed he had the most pathetic, lovesick expression on his face possible.

- "Please." He whispered, eyes half lidded and red eyes blown out massively.

- You didn't need a second longer to fulfil that request as you pressed your lips against his with a soft giggle, tumbling backwards onto the picnic rug as his arms wrapped around your shoulders to squeeze you closer to him.

- The kiss was slow and deeply passionate despite how gentle it was.

- Lucifer sighed into your mouth as he attempted to deepen the kiss, tongue running over your bottom lip.

- You didn't reciprocate, however, as you watched Charlie come back from the corner of your eye, looking at you two with absolute beaming glee.

- Your hand moved to grip his arm slightly to try to alert him to stop trying to take it further, but that proved the wrong move as he gasped slightly and his wings quickly unfurled from his back.

- You pushed him off before he could misread your body language anymore, him looking somewhat disappointed, but then let out a shocked "Oh!" As he quickly scrambled up off of you at the sight of his gawking daughter watching.

- You looked at him with an arched brow, somewhat amused at his sudden dilemma.

- Thankfully, Charlie didn't pick up on where the exchange was going for her father.

- "Finally! I've been waiting for so long!" She cried happily, clapping her hands together.

- Lucifer awkwardly recovered, face practically burning in embarrassment as he fought to compose him and bring his wings back into his back with a cough.

- Charlie excitedly exclaimed about how long she'd been waiting for the two of you to finally become not just friends as the both of you went to start packing up the picnic stuff while barely making eye contact outside of stealing shy glances at one-another.

- It was very evident that both of you felt the same about each other, and it really was hard to deny the perfection a relationship would be with Lucifer and yourself.

- You really were like a missing parent to his daughter, and you were like a missing lover to Lucifer - yet so much more than just filling up the place Lilith left.

- You weren't a replacement. You were the one. He was sure of it this time.

- And yeah, sometime down the line, he would marry you.

I was sweating trying not to make Undertale references throughout this (I had to stop myself from pulling a 'it filled him with determination' so bad lmfao)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer headcanon #lucifer headcanons

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starlightkun · 7 months

Text

➥ word count: 28.9k ➥ warnings: cursing, side character makes one (1) kms joke (“walk into traffic”), probable overuse of the word skeeze for a couple scenes ➥ genre: angst heavy at the beginning then fluff, science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), speculative fiction, star crossed lovers, a little mystery-ish, artist sungchan ➥ author’s note: omg i’m sooo excited for this one! had a lot of fun with the worldbuilding and such, and as always, with characterizing sungchan. unfortunately due to tumblr’s 1000 block limit (which was created to hurt me personally), i had to do some modifications to this in order to make it fit (i was like 150 blocks over and really didn’t want to split it into two parts for no reason). if you want the authentic, unadulterated experience with original formatting and one extra scene, i highly, highly recommend reading it on ao3

Humming along to your music, you watched the city pass by, felt the bus start and stop, and were vaguely aware of the same passengers as always getting on and off. You took the same bus every day, Monday through Friday, as you had for the past two years, since you’d been promoted and moved to better accommodations that you could afford with your new pay.

There were regulars on your commute, such as the elderly couple who got on one stop after you on the first Monday every month, and got off at the stop that you knew was closest to the art museum. They sat in the row behind you, and explained to you once that they had been passholders at the museum for years, and that was when new exhibits were rotated in. Or in the front of the bus, a pair of sisters that you had inadvertently seen grow up over the years, who got on some time before your stop, and got off two stops before you in the morning, close to a nearby private school. You could sometimes hear the older one helping the younger with homework, or making last-minute fixes to her hair or uniform.

There were of course lots of office workers as well, who all rushed on and off the bus with promptness at their stops. You recalled fondly the primary school teacher who used to sit next to you, young and always dressed in fun, colorful prints. She had blurted out one morning that she was pregnant, and you were the first person she was telling, even before her husband. She didn’t know how to tell him yet, but was so excited and had to share the news with somebody, even a stranger that she only knew for a few minutes a day on the bus. You’d watched over the months as she started to show, then told you one morning she was just going on a short maternity leave to have her baby boy but would be back sooner than you’d know. She never got back on again. You hoped her son was beautiful and healthy, and still thought of them every so often when you’d look up and pass by her stop.

And then there was you. You sometimes wondered what they thought of you, if any of them did. It would be strange if they didn’t have at least a passing opinion of you. Not because you yourself did anything remarkable on your daily commute. You got on, took the same seat every day, listened to your music with your headphones in, and got off at the same stop. But no matter how normal your routine was, how quaint your occasional conversations with your fellow commuters were, there was something that set you apart.

As signified by the strawberry red jumpsuit you donned five days a week, you worked at The Soulmate Factory. It was technically called the Bureau of Interpersonal Affairs, but everyone just called it The Soulmate Factory, even the employees. Not the most popular place to work, but the work that was done there had to be done nevertheless. All Factory employees were ineligible for matching, in order to maintain the integrity of the Bureau’s image. Your family could never understand why you’d accept a position there; never getting a soulmate of your own, never getting the one person destined for you. But you didn’t see it like that. It’s not like you could never fall in love, find a partner to spend your life with, or be fulfilled in any millions of other ways.

The bus jerked to a stop again, and the doors swung open. You stood up and hurried off. You were the only passenger to depart here, as usual. A building loomed in the distance, all flashing windows and pink marble. Following in a few other coworkers in matching red jumpsuits, you hurried up the stairs, catching up to a familiar head of hair on the way up.

“Morning, Jaemin!” You chirped, nudging his arm with yours as you fell into step with him.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Morning!” He offered you a bright smile, stepping off at the same floor as you and walking over to your neighboring desks.

“Hey, did you ever read that book I leant you?” You asked, dropping your backpack off at your desk before heading for the breakroom together. There was always a quiet buzz in the morning that you liked, when everybody was still mellow from waking up, but excited to start the day.

He hissed regretfully, a sheepish smile already coming to his face, telling you everything you needed to know, “Well...”

“You haven’t touched it since the day I gave it to you.”

“I’m going to! Promise!”

“It’s coming up on my re-read list,” you warned him, starting a fresh pot of coffee. “I only have like four books ahead of it. That gives you like, four weeks max.”

“You need to rot your brain with some TV or something.” He shook his head teasingly, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling down a box of cereal.

“Hey, isn’t that—”

“Na Jaemin, if you value your life, you’ll put that box down now.” The stern voice of Huang Renjun cracked through the air.

Jaemin turned around, hiding the box behind his back as he offered your other coworker a sickly sweet smile. “What box?”

“Come here, you son of a—”

“Hey, let’s not commit homicide before the weekly agenda meeting, maybe?” You suggested loudly over their squabbling, as Renjun had just grabbed Jaemin by the collar. “Because I’m pretty sure if you kill Jaemin, they’ll just reassign you his work, Renjun. Might want to see what your workload is like first.”

Renjun yanked the box of cereal out of Jaemin’s hand then, holding it to his chest protectively and scowling. “Fine. You better hope that you’re on data synthesis, Jaemin.”

He walked out still clutching the box to his chest.

“He’s just going to eat it dry by the fistful, isn’t he?” You sighed, starting to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

“Definitely,” Jaemin confirmed. “And I’m suddenly really wanting to do some data synthesis this week.”

After getting dismissed from the weekly agenda meeting—during which Jaemin was assigned data synthesis, and Renjun got profile compiling—you headed back to your desks. You weren’t assigned anything because your job was the same every day. You were on a very specific career trajectory at The Soulmate Factory after showing promise in the typical six months of entry-level training for new employees. Following those six months, your fellow trainees went on to start their jobs, while you went through an additional two and a half years of specialized training for your position: matchmaking.

You didn’t sit down at your computer when you got back to your desk, simply placing your nearly empty coffee cup on it before taking off down the hall to the room in which you actually did most of your work.

Swiping your badge at the access panel, the door clicked to unlock, and you pushed it open. There were a couple of other matchmakers already in there, who didn’t offer you a single glance or any indication that they were even aware of your presence. Sitting at your station, you were face-to-face with a quaintly archaic-looking computer. Compared to the newest monitors at every desk in the main bullpen, which could display images in a resolution so crisp it was hard to tell the difference between that and real life, the small, square glass and pixelated text that was in front of you seemed so out of place. But this was the system. Pressing the Enter button on your keyboard, your screen came to life, already giving you your first match.

N!#83LPd5D4ZR$PYQ^KLT6WnY##4GYVm74v^f@96#q#hheeRYgLLf3Ft9KQw

‘Matchmaker’ was a misnomer, really. You didn’t set people up to be soulmates whatsoever. The computer gave you the results, all you did was read them. Take the seemingly random string of letters, numbers, and characters, and parse out the meaning. Your training consisted of watching other matchmakers work, then trying your hand at doing some on your own, being told that you were wrong or right, with no explanation as to why either way—until you stopped getting them wrong. And whenever it would be your turn to train a matchmaker, that would be exactly how you’d train them. Because there was no way to tell them what exactly you were seeing, or how to do it. They just had to do. The longest part was looking up the profile numbers in the program, selecting them, and sending off the match results. As soon as you submitted that one, your next match came up.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

Your body moved as if by itself, in understanding with the machine, the program. The matchmakers often talked about entering a sort of trance when working, becoming one mind with the computer, completely unaware of their surroundings, time, or bodily needs. Only the next match. That’s why all of your screens had to be simultaneously forced into a shut-off at lunchtime, or else none of you would take a lunch break, then again at the end of the workday.

Blinking a few times to readjust from the hours spent interfacing with the program, you looked around you at the other matchmakers slowly getting up from their seats as well. With a sigh, you stood up and shuffled out after them. Jaemin was still at his desk when you got back to yours, fervently clacking away at his keyboard. You grabbed your coffee mug, went to wash it out in the breakroom and set it up to dry, then returned to your desk. Swallowing in an attempt to wet your dry throat, you asked him, “So how was your thrilling day of data synthesis?”

“Not over yet,” he groaned, scrolling down in his spreadsheet. “Hey, wait up a minute, would you?”

Checking the time on your watch, you nodded. “My bus doesn’t come for another twenty-five. They let us out early again.”

“Yeah, I heard the Director on the phone to somebody a while ago. He sounded pissed. Apparently, there’s some concerns over the Factory’s energy usage. They must be cutting you guys a few minutes early every day to try to help since you still use old hardware, right?”

“Mm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, could be.”

“You’d think we’d be the one agency that wouldn’t be hit with budget cuts,” he scoffed, clicking a few things before his monitor displayed the login screen again. He spun around in his chair, giving you a wide smile. “Alright, ready?”

“Sure.” You grabbed your backpack from your seat. Jaemin and you headed down the stairs, awash in pinks and oranges from the sunset streaming in from outside.

“So, I already know what the answer is going to be, but I have to be able to say that I asked, alright?” Your coworker began, making you scrunch up your face in confusion. “My sister wanted me to ask if you’ve done hers yet? Na Minhee?”

You sighed, “Jaemin, you know I don’t know any of that—” “I know—” “—it’s all just… stuff. And you’ve compiled profiles, those are completely anonymous.”

“I know, I know,” he reassured you. “I just needed to be able to tell her that I asked, and that’s what you said. She wouldn’t take my word for it.”

“She’d know if hers has already been done, anyway.” You held up your hand, wiggling your pinky finger. “Why ask you?”

“Because she’s impatient.”

“Well, I can’t help her.” You shrugged. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

“I’ll tell her that. Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem, dude.”

“When does your bus come?”

You checked the time again. “Fifteen minutes or so.”

“You want me to wait with you?” He offered, looking around the empty bus stop. “Kind of dark.”

“I’m alright, thanks. Go break your sister’s heart, champ.” You gave him a mock punch on the shoulder.

On your own again, you took your phone and headphones out, popping one earbud in your ear as you went to choose your playlist. As you scrolled, tapped, and swiped through your phone to try to pick the perfect song, some fuzz fell from your jumpsuit onto your right pinky finger, and you absentmindedly shook it off as your focus stayed on your music library. But it was stubborn, and the red fleck didn’t budge. You wiped the digit on your pants, eyes on where you had finally gotten the perfect choice, the song starting up as you lifted your now-clean hand back up.

Except it was still there. You looked at your hand for the first time, really looked at it, and felt your stomach drop. A thin, bright red string, the same color as your jumpsuit, was tied around your right pinky finger, just above the juncture where the finger met your hand. The string hung off in the air, becoming transparent and disappearing altogether less than a finger’s length away. You turned your hand over, palm to back to palm to back, and the string moved with it, the end fluttering with each of your movements. Stupidly, you tried to grab it, as if to pull it off, but when you took hold of the silken thread and gave it a yank, it didn’t budge. For a split second, amputation came to mind, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away. There were stories of people losing fingers or entire limbs and their strings reappearing on the other hand, or in new places altogether if they had no hands at all.

You looked around for any of your coworkers. Nobody else except the two people on either end of the string could see it, but you still didn’t want anybody to be observing your behavior, and then have to try to explain said behavior right now. It was easy to explain why you were doing what you were doing—you just got a red string; but not how—you weren’t supposed to get one. Ever. The area around you was empty, the majority of your coworkers driving, taking the subway, or not having left work yet. You looked over your shoulder, at the pink marble building looming in the distance.

The squeal of brakes and hiss of compressed air as the doors of a bus were flung open made you turn around. Rushing up the steps onto the bus, you then plopped into your usual seat, keeping your backpack on your lap and instinctively tucking your right hand between the bag and your body to keep the string hidden. You didn’t know who could possibly be your soulmate now, you had to be vigilant. You didn’t relax until you were safely tucked away in your apartment, door locked behind you, no plans to see any other humans for the rest of the day.

The next morning, you kept your right hand hidden away as much as possible on your commute, in your pockets, behind your bag, under your thigh. You didn’t feel remotely safe until you were in the matchmaking room, at your station. Even then, it took you longer than normal to stop from looking at your pinky and actually focus on the first match up on your screen. Once you had, everything else faded away like usual, and you could only think about reading the matches.

vLZD%v7^XftyvnM6HcxszgUbT6EaPaza41tJtv%#HFby%5Y2rWdujYUj8X21

At lunch, you typically would’ve taken your packed lunch to a nearby public park to eat, but that was too risky. So you took it to the breakroom, sitting at the small table and taking out one of your books from your bag. A few other coworkers came in and out to use the microwave or retrieve their own lunch from the fridge, but nobody bothered you as you read. You finished your food rather quick, and found yourself a bit too distracted to focus on your book. The red string on your finger was back in the forefront of your mind. Checking the time, you saw that you still had over half of your break left. With a sigh, you shut your book and walked back over to your desk next to Jaemin’s.

The floor was pretty empty, only a couple of your coworkers left who either took early or later lunches. You turned on the desktop computer, waiting for it to start up before quickly signing on. Opening up the program where profiles were compiled to be fed into the matchmaking system, you chewed on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, clicking around on the controls. During the basic training you’d received over five years ago, you’d been shown how to compile and enter a profile into the database, and you obviously searched them up from your matchmaking station. But these were all profiles that hadn’t been matched yet, that didn’t have red strings. You needed to get into wherever the profiles that had been successfully matched were. If they were kept somewhere at all.

After poking around some more in the application, you determined that either you didn’t have the technical know-how to access that information, the administrative access to do so, or that information wasn’t stored in the first place. Exiting out of the program with a sigh, you dropped your chin into your palm, scrunching your eyes and nose up as you continued thinking. It felt like it was right there, right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t grab it for some reason. The weekly agenda meeting, something about the weekly agenda meeting—Jaemin was assigned data synthesis. They compiled information on all kinds of stuff regarding matched soulmates: average time to meet after the strings appear, get married, have kids, how many kids, length of time they’re together prior to death, the list goes on. That couldn’t come from nowhere. They had to keep track of soulmates somehow, right?

You quickly opened the Internet browser, going to the Bureau’s website and finding the ‘Studies and Statistics’ page. All of the things you were thinking about were there, complete with fancy little graphics. It didn’t tell you anything about where this stuff was stored internally, but this meant that it had to be, somehow, somewhere. Which meant that your match had to be somewhere, and if you could just find it, then you could—

What? Undo it somehow? It had to be possible. But first you had to find out how it happened in the first place, which meant laying eyes on the match itself, at least. You needed some kind of starting point, and that felt like as good as any.

At the end of the day, the matchmakers were let out early again, and you waited up at your desk as Jaemin was still working. He looked over his shoulder at you curiously. “You need something, Y/N? I don’t have your book, sorry.”

“No, I have a question. But you can finish your work first.”

He made an interested noise, and turned back to his screen. After entering a few more things into his spreadsheet, he pressed save, then exited out with a satisfied groan. He shut down his computer and leaned back, audibly cracking his back. “Fucking finally! If I ever have to look at another number again, I’ll walk into traffic.”

You chuckled as the two of you set off. “Data synthesis that bad?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed one of his eyes. “Anyway, what’d you want to ask me?”

“It was actually about data synthesis…”

“No!” He whined, shaking his head fervently.

“One question! One question!” You begged.

“Fine…”

“The data that you use, how do you get that? Like, where do you get it from?”

He looked at you, squinting with confusion. “From soulmates that have already been matched?”

“Then the Factory keeps records of matches after the strings have been triggered.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Where? Is it a separate database from the one that you enter new profiles into? Or is it part of the matchmaking program?”

“I mean, it’s probably its own thing? I don’t know, I get the numbers in my data synthesis project assignments. If I need more, or something different, I tell the project manager and he gets it for me.”

“Huh.” You kept the disappointment off your face, as well as curiosity. While he didn’t know a lot, what he didn’t know actually was helpful to you. “Okay, thanks.”

“That was more than one question.”

“Right, sorry.”

“What’s going on? Why the interest in data synthesis all of a sudden?”

“Just curious, since you guys seem to hate it so much.”

“It’s… mind-numbing, to say the least.”

“Here’s hoping next week you’re on profile compiling.”

“Fingers crossed,” he sighed. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

The next few days passed without incident. Your intervals of snooping around on your desktop computer during your lunch breaks were fruitless in finding wherever completed matches were stored, and soon it was Friday evening, and the work week was over. Not even a crisis like this could make you work late on a Friday. You realized when you got home that you were out of groceries, and ordered delivery to your apartment. Can’t risk someone at the restaurant being your soulmate.

Saturday morning you woke up and left early to go grocery shopping, hopefully before most anybody would be out and about. Well, before one person in particular would be awake—your soulmate. Only problem was, you didn’t know who that was, so you had to avoid pretty much everybody. As you walked through the streets keeping your hands crossed and tucked under your arms, you kept your head down, eyes focused only on your feet. If you couldn’t see anybody’s hands and couldn’t possibly see a red string, hopefully they wouldn’t see yours.

Except as you rushed through the streets, you passed by your favorite small bookstore, with its doors wide open, and a sign out front on the sidewalk advertising a huge sale, 70% off a table of books right by the doorway. You couldn’t help but stop—just for a second—to check it out, spotting a title by one of your favorite authors that you’d been meaning to read but hadn’t yet. Picking up the book to look at the price and turning it over in your hands to skim the blurb on the back, you were barely aware of the sounds of some young men playing with a Frisbee at the park across the street, their yells fading into the din of the waking city.

That was, until the purple, plastic disc came skittering across the pavement to a stop right at your feet, and a tall man jogged up after it, still calling to his friend over his shoulder, “Nice aim, Anton! You almost took this poor woman’s head off!”

You missed what his friend said in response as you were already looking up from the Frisbee with the intent to tell him that you were quite alright, then your eyes got caught on a thin red loop around his pinky finger. Snapping your gaze down to your own hand, which was still holding the book, then back to his as he stood now right in front of you, your eyes widened with alarm.

To your horror, the string completed itself, connecting seamlessly to the pinky of the stranger in front of you. The young man looked at you with wonderment, a wide smile coming to his features, brightness and recognition in them. He opened his mouth, presumably to say hello, or whatever soulmates did when they met, but before he could utter anything, you dropped the book and took off at a run. You sprinted away, turning down streets at random, until your legs were burning and you had a stitch in your side. Ducking around another shop, you hid behind the building to catch your breath, sure that you had lost him. Your heartbeat was thudding loudly in your ears, and you habitually tried to shake off that stupid, pesky red string again.

“Look—” A voice suddenly registering right over your shoulder made you jump and scramble back. The man had found you, holding his hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm a wild animal or a spooked horse. His chest was heaving as he was as out of breath as you were (presumably from running after you). There was a bewildered, confused look in his wide eyes as he kept himself between you and the only way out of the alley you had unintentionally backed yourself into. “I don’t normally chase women through the streets, sorry.”

You stayed silent as you looked between him and the exit. The red string hung between you, painfully obvious.

“I just… wanted to talk, you know,” he continued, gesturing to said string. “I’m Sungchan.”

You shook your head, clenching your jaw tightly to avoid making any kind of sound.

“What?” He tilted his head. “You… won’t tell me your name?”

You stared at him, unmoving.

“You know what, we got off on a bad foot, and clearly this is not a good time for you.” Sungchan stepped away from the alley entrance entirely. “Bye for now.”

Taking hesitant, shuffling steps, uncertain that he was actually going to let you leave, you kept your eyes laser focused on him until you were out of the alley, at which point you promptly booked it down the road again. You didn’t stop until you could no longer breathe, your legs shook and threatened to give out any second, and you had tears streaming down your face from the wind blowing into them.

That day you looked up how to get rid of a red string. You knew it was stupid, impossible to do at home. You literally worked at The Soulmate Factory, you were a matchmaker, for fuck’s sake, you were the one giving them out in the first place.

None of it worked, of course. Not meditating, praying, attempting to light it on fire, soaking your finger in a mixture of various oils and herbs from your spice cabinet, scrubbing really hard with the coarse side of a sponge, or crying for thirty minutes straight (that last one was just you being frustrated, no Internet listicle or sketchy guru suggested that). It was still there after everything, as pristine as when it appeared less than a week ago. Less than a week ago. Much faster than average, according to the statistics that you had just looked up the other day. The average time from getting the red string to meeting was seven months and eighteen days, with some taking several years. And yours just had to be within five days. You felt like you could cry again, if you didn’t already have a throbbing headache from how much you had done that earlier.

Now, you were sitting under the spray of your shower, holding your knees to your chest, trying not to look at it. You couldn’t look at your finger, at the red string, but if you closed your eyes, you just saw his face—Sungchan.

On Monday, you continued your investigation with renewed vigor. When you swiped into the matchmaking room, you didn’t go to your station, instead you headed for the back, where there was a short flight of stairs up to an office. Knocking on the door, you waited for the familiar voice inside to beckon you in.

“Come in.”

Pushing your way in, you nodded politely to your supervisor, “Good morning, Ms. Kwon.”

“Good morning, Y/N.” She brought her hands down from where they had been poised over her keyboard to rest in her lap. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” you lied. “How are you?”

“Fine. What brings you to my office this morning?”

“I… have sort of a weird question, if that’s alright.”

She gestured to the two chairs opposite her. “Of course.”

You sat in one, making a conscious effort to keep your knee from bouncing nervously.

“What is your question?” She prompted you.

“There’s never any mistakes, right?”

“Mistakes? No, you’re all trained right.” Ms. Kwon arched an eyebrow. “Do you think you’ve made a mistake, Y/N?”

“No, not the matchmakers. I mean… the computer does whatever it does with the information it’s given, right? That we collect?” You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “What if… it gets the wrong information? Wouldn’t it all be wrong if it’s given the wrong stuff in the first place?”

“The profiles we compile are extremely rudimentary, and that isn’t all the information it uses. The computer does more than we can ever know.”

“But what if… there’s an extra profile in there that was never supposed to be in there?”

“Like a person that doesn’t exist? How would a fake person even get created in the first place?”

“No I mean like—You know how Factory employees are taken out of the program? What if somehow, someone got missed? Like, their match happened right before their first day or something crazy. So they got matched up when they weren’t supposed to.”

“I’ve never heard of that happening.” She shook her head, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs at the knee. “As soon as we receive someone’s application, their profile is removed from the program. If they’re not hired, their profile is put back in. If they are hired, the data is permanently destroyed.”

“Where’s it stored when it’s temporarily removed during the application process, then?”

She didn’t answer your question, her face turning concerned instead of simply confused as before. “Y/N, what’s going on? Do you know of a Factory employee who’s been matched up?”

You shook your head, trying not to deny it too quickly or with too much fervor. “No, I just—Got a brain itch about it, I don’t know. Seems too… uncertain.”

“I can assure you, no Factory employee has ever been matched up. Accidentally or otherwise,” she replied smoothly, a reassuring smile coming to her features. “You can rest easy; no mistakes are made here.”

“Can you just… answer my question? Please?” You pleaded, picking at your nails to avoid messing with your pinky. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“Alright, to soothe your brain itch,” she agreed, sounding amused. “It’s another list in the profiles database that we import into your matchmaking program, except only personnel with a certain clearance can view, add, and remove profiles from the list. Once a round of interviews has been completed, the applicants on the list are either marked as hired or not. If they’re marked as hired, their profile information is permanently destroyed upon their first day of training. If they’re marked as not, it’s returned to the main database that everyone has access to.”

“One more thing?”

“Sure.”

“Once a match is made, where does that information go? Like, the reports, the profiles, is it stored anywhere?”

“We maintain all of those records in another program. Those with higher clearance have access to it, for security purposes, since profiles are de-anonymized in it. Data synthesis uses them for reports frequently.”

“Okay, thanks.” You offered her a feigned, relieved smile, then tacked on a quick fib, “Just wanted a little refresh, in case we got any new hires anytime soon.”

“Already looking to train, Y/N?”

“Oh, maybe…” You laughed nervously, as if shy about being caught with your eye on a promotion already and not anxious from having to discretely interrogate your supervisor.

“You always were ambitious. And wanting to learn more about the program and the Bureau… I like it.” Ms. Kwon nodded her approval. “Feel free to ask about any other brain itches you get, okay?”

“Right, thanks.” You stood up, giving her a polite bow. “I should get to my station. Thank you again, ma’am.”

As you hurried down to your matchmaking station, you easily came to the realization of what you’d need to do next. There was no way you’d be able to just wait until you were promoted to a position with high enough security clearance for the post-matched program, that sounded like it would be people of Ms. Kwon’s position and above. You’d have to get into the program using one of their access points. Somehow. But you didn’t have time to brainstorm a plan for that at the moment, you had matches to read. You sank down into the comfortable, posture-saving chair, and let your mind mesh with the computer as the first one loaded up on the screen.

The next day, you waited at your bus stop, leaning against the shelter and eating your apple one-handed. Pedestrians would occasionally pass by, but your area was mainly young families, so most residents drove their children to daycare or school, then either returned home, or went to work themselves. There was the occasional parent who would jog by with a stroller, or pulling a stroller hitched to the back of a bicycle, but for the most part it was just you and your apple, which you were nearly done with. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a lone jogger approaching, and took a step back to allow him to pass, eyes still down on your phone and apple as your bus hadn’t arrived yet. Except this jogger slowed to a stop in front of you. You followed the red string from the hand that held your apple core up to a somewhat familiar face, looking down at you in mild confusion.

He was admittedly sweatier now, pieces of hair curling and sticking to the skin at his hairline, and his t-shirt sported a damp spot starting at his collar going down the middle of his chest. But this was definitely Sungchan, as signified by the red string connecting your right pinky to his left. He lifted the hem of his shirt to quickly pat drops of sweat away from his face and took one of his earbuds out as he offered you an easygoing smile.

“Hi. Feeling better?” He asked, his tone light and teasing.

“Why are you here?” You practically snapped. You thought you’d be safe at your bus stop of all places, which you were at every day. You knew your neighborhood, the people on your bus, but he still somehow showed up. “I-I take the same bus every day, at the same time, and I’ve never seen you jogging in the morning!”

“Oh, yeah, I stayed at my sister’s place last night, she lives around here.” Sungchan casually gestured over his shoulder at the general vicinity. “So I had to take a different route than normal for my morning run. You live in this area?”

You stared at him, jaw clenched.

“Sorry, probably sounded a little weird asking you that, huh?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, it’s just that you said you’re at this same bus stop every day at the same time, so I figured you, uhm… never mind. I’m Jung Sungchan, I realized I didn’t properly introduce myself last time. I’d offer my hand or hug you or something but I’m a bit sweaty…”

Taking a deep breath, you tried to think of how to politely phrase the everything you had to tell him, but he just kept talking.

“I’d like to uh, you know, know your name, too. Since we’re uhm, you know… soulmates? And uh—”

“Sungchan!” You cut him off, and he immediately shut his mouth. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know my name.”

“What? What are you talking about? But we’re—”

“I’m not supposed to have a soulmate!” You gestured wildly to your uniform. “This was a mistake! An error! I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have ever happened. I’ll get it fixed, okay? I’ll figure out how to undo it, and make sure you get put back in.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I thought the Factory didn’t make mistakes.”

“The computer doesn’t. But somehow, somebody must have put a paper in the wrong stack, or not deleted something when they should’ve, I don’t know! But I’ll fix it.”

The bus finally arrived then with its usual screech of brakes and hiss of the pneumatic doors, and you stepped away from Sungchan towards it.

“I have to go.” You told him with finality, tossing your apple core in a nearby trashcan and boarding the bus without waiting to hear if he had something else to say.

Without having to avoid the entire world now, you actually took your lunch today. But as soon as you stepped outside of the building and turned from the front doors, you spotted a familiar tall figure standing awkwardly off to the side, no longer in sweaty running gear. You made a beeline for Sungchan, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the most secluded corner of the open space as you could, away from all your coworkers who were heading off to take their own break.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed at him, constantly glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear you two.

His face did look genuinely regretful, though exasperated at the same time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to find you.”

“Why are you trying to find me?”

He held up his left pinky. You pushed it back down. “I’m working on it!”

“No, I—” He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face. “Can we like… I don’t know, talk, or something?”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think I should get a say in you undoing this?”

You inhaled sharply. “You’re right, Sungchan. I’m sorry. We should talk.”

“Finally, thank you.”

Checking the time for a moment, you then offered, “I have fifty-five minutes left of my lunch break. Do you want to join me?”

“Sure, sure.”

You led him away from The Soulmate Factory, along a familiar path. There was a riverside public park nearby, and on days when you packed your lunch, and it was nice out, you would eat outside.

Sungchan broke the silence, “Will you ever tell me your name?”

“Y/N. Y/L/N Y/N,” you informed him flatly. “Happy?”

“Y/N,” he repeated, as if savoring your name. “Okay, thanks.”

The park was only a couple minutes’ walk, and you had a very specific destination in mind once you two got there.

“I packed a lunch today, sorry,” you said quietly, sitting down on the wall overlooking the river, your feet swinging in the air.

Sungchan sat down next to you. “That’s fine. I can grab something later.”

Opening your lunch bag, you grabbed your sandwich and held out half to him. He accepted it gingerly. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t figured out how to undo it yet, but I can enter a profile into the program easy, so once I do undo it, don’t worry about me putting you back in. You’ll be all set,” you reassured him, taking a bite.

“You’re still talking like this is a done deal. Undoing it.”

“I’d be fixing someone’s mistake, Sungchan. That’s what you do at work. When you see a piece of paper is misfiled, or a decimal is in the wrong place, or a typo on a presentation, you fix it, even if you didn’t do it.”

“It’s just… human error?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all that’s happened here, you think?”

“Whoever was supposed to take my profile out didn’t for some reason, and the computer got it when it wasn’t supposed to,” you confirmed emphatically.

“How does it work, the program? And the profiles, and the computer? All of it?” He questioned.

You gave him as simplified of a version as you could, “Profiles and a bunch of other data points get put into the program, which imports them into the computer. The computer spits out the resulting matches, I—we, matchmakers read them and submit the match reports, triggering the red strings.”

“So it wasn’t given any incorrect information about you or me? Nobody tampered with the system to force it to match us, or falsified a match?”

“No, you can’t do that. It’s impossible.”

“The only hiccup, in your opinion, was that it was given your data at all.”

“Yes, Factory employees aren’t allowed to—”

“Whose rule is that?”

“The Bureau—”

“So, it’s literally just bureaucracy?”

“I like my job,” you huffed, frustrated that he wasn’t seeing the blatantly obvious mistake that had happened. “It’s a rule for a reason. Factory employees are taken out of the program so the public doesn’t think employees are rigging their matches.”

“Can’t rig your soulmate if you don’t get one,” he scoffed.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You say that like having one would be the worst thing in the world!” Sungchan replied incredulously.

“It is for me! Because do you know what would happen if people at the Bureau found out this happened?” You looked at him with wide, pointed eyes. “Just losing my job would probably be the best outcome. And who knows what would happen to you!”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, Sungchan. I’m sure you had imagined all of this, your red string, and the person at the other end of it, going a lot different. And I’m sure it will, when I fix everything.” You stood up, cutting your conversation and lunch short. “Don’t come to my work again, okay? For both our sakes.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry,” he muttered, looking out at the water.

Back at the Factory, you finished eating your lunch at your desk, then shuffled back to the matchmaking room. After swiping in, you realized that you were pretty early, the first one back. Curious, you peered up at Ms. Kwon’s office. She was in there, of course. No way would you be able to attempt to use her computer to access the higher-clearance data. You sank into the chair at your station with a deep sigh. Drumming your fingers along the desktop, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’d have to wait for the others to get back from lunch for the power to be returned to the screens. In the meantime, you could just ruminate.

“Y/N?” Ms. Kwon’s voice came from the direction of her office. “Back so soon?”

You opened your eyes back up, turning to look at her. You nodded sheepishly. “Quick eater…”

“I feel like I’ve seen you in the breakroom with a book before. Nothing today?”

“Forgot it at home.”

“Alright, well… have fun, I suppose.” She turned to go back into her office.

“There’s no way to undo a match, is there?” You blurted out, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back around to look at you curiously as you continued, “Once we press submit on the computer, that’s it?”

Ms. Kwon cocked her head, leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs. “You should’ve been told this in training… No, there isn’t a way to ‘undo’ a match. We aren’t even matching them, just reporting on what the computer says. All the reports do is trigger the strings. The two people are soulmates regardless of the computer. We just intervene so they can find each other.”

You gulped and nodded. “Of course. I knew that… I… I don’t know. Thank you, Ms. Kwon.”

“Another brain itch?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you forced out a couple of chuckles to cover up the dread you felt on the inside.

“Alright. Remember, ‘The Soulmate Factory’ isn’t very accurate. We don’t make soulmates here, they’re already out there.”

“Right, yeah. Terrible nickname, huh?”

She shrugged. “It’s cute. Good for branding. I’ve got a few things to work on, unless you have any other burning questions for me?”

“No, Ms. Kwon, that’s it. Thank you, again.”

“No problem, Y/N.” And with that, she retreated into her office once more.

Dragging your feet back out to your desk at the end of the workday, you chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating pretending to have extra work so you could stay late and try to sneak onto Ms. Kwon’s computer to access the matched profiles. But her office was behind a door with swipe access, it would log that you swiped in after hours. A digital breadcrumb trail.

“Hey,” Jaemin got your attention as you sat in your chair and stared at your screen. You spun your chair around to look at him, lifting your eyebrows in a silent question. “Who was that guy?”

Your blood turned cold. “Huh? Who? When? What guy?”

“Oh now that wasn’t suspicious,” he snorted. “The guy that was waiting for you at lunch whose ass you looked like you were about to kick.”

Oh God. Jaemin saw Sungchan. Who else saw him? You had to assume everybody. You stood up from your chair hastily, fully intent on running away. “Just—Nobody, it doesn’t matter.”

Jaemin gasped, then dropped his voice, “Y/N, you didn’t...”

“Didn’t what?” You squeaked, now ready to stick around. You had to know what he knew, which was obviously the truth.

“You totally did.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Never a good idea, getting involved with people who are destined, even if they don’t have their string yet. Because one day they will.”

Of course. He thought, perfectly reasonably, that you had dated, slept with, done something with somebody who was going to get their red string someday, while you would remain without it forever. You swallowed down your sigh of relief, and instead crossed your arms over your chest, quickly switching trains of thought to follow this new cover story.

“And that’s what I told him, Jaemin, I swear,” you whispered insistently.

Your friend finished up and switched off his desktop then, giving you a frank look. “How many times, Y/N?”

“I told him like a hundred times—”

“No. You know what I mean.”

You hurried down the stairs, Jaemin right with you, rolling your eyes as you tried to think of a number that wasn’t excessive, but messy enough to possibly warrant a guy turning up at your work. “I don’t know... a few! A girl’s got needs, Jaemin!”

He chuckled and shook his head again, pushing the front door open for you. He turned suddenly, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning you around to face the building with him, then gestured grandly up and down the entirety of The Soulmate Factory. “A whole ten floors to pick from, Y/N. No messy red strings to worry about after.”

“Yeah, just awkward encounters at work,” you scoffed.

“I heard Park Jisung on the second floor thinks you’re cute.”

“What is this? Middle school?” You elbowed him to get him off of you, ducking out from under his arm and taking off towards your bus stop at a speed walk.

He easily kept pace with you. “I’m just looking out for you. Rule Number 1 of dating with no soulmate: Stay away from people with one.”

“Uh-huh, noted,” you replied shortly. “You done?”

“Are you?”

“Yes! God!”

“Alright.” He was still grinning, clearly finding the whole scenario amusing overall. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Bye, Jaemin.”

A couple nights later found you rooting through the frozen section of a corner store. You’d gotten home from work after yet another day of getting nowhere with this stupid red string and had wanted nothing more than to wallow in misery with a pint of ice cream. Except you had none in your freezer, and your usual corner store was out of your favorite flavor, so you had to go to one several blocks over.

After paying for the ice cream and grabbing a plastic spoon from the available utensils, you hurried out of the shop. Turning sharply onto a side street to take a shortcut back to your apartment, you nearly tripped over somebody sitting on the sidewalk curb, their feet in the street. They were wearing a hoodie with the hood up, and you jumped back as you went to apologize. Then they looked at you over their shoulder, and you stopped your apologies, flabbergasted and a little pissed off at the universe at this point.

“Oh my god, again?” You stared at Sungchan, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Okay, ouch,” he retorted. He had his own pint of ice cream and plastic spoon in hand, about two-thirds of the way done.

“Sorry, I was just… I wanted to drown my sorrowsin ice cream alone.”

He turned away from you, resting his arms on his knees as he went back to looking down at the pavement. “Well, I’ve got dibs on this street corner for sadly eating ice cream.”

You winced. “Sungchan… I’m…”

Sorry? Was that it? Not for wanting to undo the string. Sorry that this all happened to him in the first place, and that he was now sadly eating ice cream by himself on a street corner? Absolutely. Even though you wanted to remove your red string that connected you two as soulmates, you still felt for the guy as a person, and you felt bad just leaving him here. In a different set of circumstances, you could see the two of you being friends. Against your better judgment, you sat down next to him on the curb, opening your pint of ice cream. He looked at you suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, and you caught a glimpse of his damp, bloodshot eyes in the light of the streetlamp above you two before he focused them back down on his own ice cream.

He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth before speaking again. “We’re going to keep running into each other, don’t you get that?”

“Yeah, I know, the string always gets tighter again. But I didn’t think our string would be like a fucking rubber band.” You shook your head, licking the lid of your container clean. “Honestly, this is kind of ridiculous.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as he ate another bite of ice cream.

“The computer doesn’t make mistakes.” He stated bluntly. “That’s what you said the second time we met. Do you actually think that? That what goes on in there is making soulmates? Finding them? Whatever.”

“I-I mean, yeah.” You carefully carved out your first spoonful from the pristine surface. “We do analytics and data gathering post-matching and… yeah, it works.”

He was quiet as you took your bite of ice cream into your mouth.

“Then we’re soulmates.”

You couldn’t swallow quickly enough, mind reeling at you tried to think of anything to say. “But my profile—”

“Whatever may have happened before the computer got our data doesn’t fucking matter, it still did all the same stuff that it does when giving you all the matches that you read,” Sungchan cut you off, and you saw a fresh tear catch the light as it rolled down his cheek. “And it figured that we were soulmates. But suddenly you’re doubting it? Suddenly it’s not right? What’s so fucking special about you?”

“I…”

“Has somebody’s profile even been through the computer twice? Ever? And you want to just stick me back in there. What if it rejects me because it already processed me once? What if I don’t get another match? What if it breaks the whole damn program? The whole fucking Factory?” He wasn’t yelling, but his voice was strong and hoarse at the same time, and you froze up as you felt the anger and hurt in him.

You didn’t have an answer for him. You always had an answer. You always knew, at work, when reading the matches, you just always knew, but you didn’t now. You had nothing, it was all blank, empty in your mind. You swallowed thickly, staring at him as he looked over at you furiously. White hot shame and guilt made your skin prickle.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

Sungchan put his pint down on the pavement, then covered your hands with his. Even as you held onto your ice cream, you could feel that his skin was colder than yours. “I’m trying to understand you, Y/N, but this isn’t making any sense to me.”

“I thought I’d have a choice,” you told him shakily, slowly pulling your hands away. “I thought I’d be able to choose…”

He blinked, and his face twisted up with pain as he took his hands back. He grabbed his nearly empty carton, standing up and blotting out the lamp light as he towered over you.

“Trust me, you’ve got a choice. A big one.” He sighed bitterly, tossing his container in a nearby trash can. “I’ve said my piece. Goodnight.”

“Where are you going?” You called after him as he started down the sidewalk.

“Somewhere. When you’re ready, you know how to find me.” He lifted his left arm up and waved his hand, his end of the red string fluttering back and forth in the air with the movement.

You watched him continue to walk down the street, not slowing down or looking over his shoulder once. It was only when you could no longer see him that scalding tears welled up in your vision and stung your eyes. You didn’t bother wiping them away as they streamed down your face and fell onto your shirt, leaving dark patches in their wake. Despite the ice cream being your original intent for coming out, you suddenly didn’t have an appetite, burying your face in your arms to cry alone on the curb.

What’s so fucking special about you?

Sungchan’s words were still in the squeal of the bus brakes in the morning, and the hum of strangers’ conversations, and the shuffle of leaves as the wind shook tree branches. You stared at the grooves of the hardwood floor in the breakroom, hearing his voice in the gurgle of the coffee machine as it ran on the counter behind you. You didn’t even need your usual morning cup, still wide awake, as you had been all night. Fingers snapped in front of your eyes, and you lazily dragged your gaze up to the owner of the hand, Renjun.

“You look like shit,” he deadpanned.

You took a long, deep sigh, not even having enough in you to react to the comment as you usually would. “Do you ever think about your soulmate, Renjun?”

“Uh… no?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Because I don’t have one? Remember?”

“I know, Factory employees get taken out of the program. But doesn’t that mean that the computer is really working with incomplete data or whatever? Since it doesn’t actually have every single person in there?”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he seemed to think about this for a moment. “I guess.”

“If we were all in there, we’d get matched up with somebody. Our soulmate. We’re not all in there, but whoever we would be matched with still is. So they just… get their second-best match?”

“What is it that matchmaking lady always says? ‘The computer does more than we’ll ever know?’”

“Ms. Kwon?”

“Yeah, her.” He nodded, turning around to get his cereal down from the cabinet. He answered your question over his shoulder, “No, I’ve never thought about this, Y/N. But you have clearly been doing a lot of thinking about it.”

“Too much,” you groaned. “My head hurts.”

Your coworker’s voice was a bit softer as he offered, “You, me, and Jaemin—Drinks after work?”

After work you ended up on a rooftop bar with Jaemin and Renjun, nursing your second beer of the night as you stared out at the lights of the city. The two of them were chatting about some movie that was coming out this weekend that they were interested in, and all three of you had your feet kicked up on the ledge of the rooftop.

In a lull in their conversation, a finger poked your head from the left. “What’s wrong?” Jaemin asked.

You sighed. “It’s… ugh.”

Another finger poked the right side of your head. “Come on,” Renjun insisted. “You’ve been weird all week.”

You took a swig of your drink, then let out another deep sigh. “Why did you guys start working at the Factory?”

“What?” Renjun scoffed lightly, as if he couldn’t imagine why you’d even ask that.

“Why did you start working at the Factory?” You repeated. “I mean, accepting a life without a soulmate.”

“My parents met at the Factory, actually,” Jaemin said.

“Wait, really?” You turned to him curiously. You knew that Factory employees dating each other wasn’t off-limits, and theoretically that meant they could settle down and have lives sort of like soulmates, but you’d never heard much about it actually happening.

“Yeah, they weren’t soulmates. So it was one of those things where, I don’t know, I got to grow up knowing that there was another way to live.” Jaemin shrugged casually. “I didn’t even really think about the no-soulmate thing when I applied, they just always talked about how much they loved their jobs, it sounded like a cool place to work.”

“I applied at a bunch of different places, this is the first one that called me back,” Renjun gave his own answer.

“Why did you start working here?” Jaemin turned your question back on you.

You tapped your fingernail against the side of your bottle. “Pay’s not bad… And I didn’t… hate the idea of having a say in my love life, you know? Instead of this string showing up one day and telling me who I’m supposed to be with forever. Getting to choose on my own.”

“Sounds like you don’t think the computer knows what it’s doing,” Renjun snorted.

“No, it does! It does! I just… didn’t mind the idea of never knowing.”

Jaemin furrowed his brow curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Like… I can wake up tomorrow and have cereal, or eggs, or buy breakfast on my way into work. There could be someone new on my bus in the morning. I can get a haircut, or dye my hair. It could rain tomorrow, or be sunny, or overcast. Life is always in flux, always changing, new, different.”

“Knowing who your soulmate is, would be too… certain?”

“Some people like having that constant in their life,” Renjun pointed out. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“I don’t know, like what if you get your soulmate and they kind of suck? Then you kind of have to ask yourself what did you do to deserve someone who kind of sucks? Because that’s literally the best you can do,” you ranted, gesturing around to the night sky with your bottle. “At least without a string, there’s always a chance that there’s someone better out there.”

“Ah, you’ve got the Boy Scout mindset,” Jaemin said knowingly. “Just in case. Just in case it rains, I’ll bring an umbrella. Just in case whoever you’re seeing now kind of sucks, you can always try again.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, since you don’t have a string.”

“Very polite way to say she has commitment issues, Jaemin,” Renjun snickered.

“Rude!” You smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

He wasn’t dissuaded by your minor battery, however. Bringing his two feet back down to the ground, he leaned his elbows forward on his knees and looked over at you, “Sounds like to me, you want infinite second chances. Just in case.”

“There’s only so many of us at the Factory, really,” Jaemin pointed out. “Wouldn’t a soulmate actually be infinite second chances? Since you know you’re destined to be with them, you can kind of mess up as often as you want?”

You frowned, thinking of Sungchan walking away from you. “You really think so? I mean, they’re still a person. Wouldn’t they stop putting up with you after so long? Even if they were your soulmate, I’m sure being alone would be better than having a shit soulmate.”

“Well, then you have to ask: What is a soulmate? Just the best you can do? Or someone who’s going to make you better? Is there such a thing as a shit soulmate?”

“There has to be, right? There’s bad people, and those people have soulmates.”

“Are they bad forever? Are they bad people to their soulmates? Or do they also have shit people for soulmates? So, relative to each other, they don’t even realize that they have a shit soulmate?”

“My head hurts again…” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples.

A long silence passed as you three each finished off your beers. Renjun shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grunt. “Thank God we’ll never know, huh?”

Your Saturday was spent walking. Walking all over town, from your apartment to your bus stop, to the park where Sungchan had been playing Frisbee before, to the corner store where you’d last seen him, and everywhere in between. You kept your head on a swivel, straining for any sign of his tall head over the crowd. But you couldn’t see him anywhere.

When you finally gave up mid-afternoon and went back to your apartment for a late lunch, you knew that you were actually relieved that you hadn’t found him today. If you had ran into him, you didn’t even know what you’d say, where to start, where to end, what to say in the middle. Your head was a jumbled mess, simultaneously too full and too empty. There was no way you’d be able to articulate a single comprehensible word when you yourself didn’t know a shred about anything that you were thinking or feeling.

Sunday you were kept busy with Sungchan’s lingering question. What’s so special about you?

In the moment, it felt like he was asking why you thought you were special enough to be exempt from something that everyone else experienced: getting a red string and finding their soulmate. But as you went about mindless chores in your apartment, doing the dishes, folding laundry, you thought about him.

What’s so special about Sungchan? What would make him your soulmate? And you wondered if he was asking himself the same questions about you.

Monday morning you almost missed your bus. You’d been so distracted going about your morning routine that you ran straight from your apartment building onto the bus, the doors closing right after you. The elderly couple was on today, and you plopped into your seat in front of them, offering them a breathless smile and greeting.

“Tough morning, dear?” The woman asked you knowingly.

“Oh, a bit,” you laughed. “Tough couple of weeks, honestly. But I’ll make it. What’s the new exhibit for this month?”

“It’s a contemporary artist who does large-scale mixed media collages,” the husband explained.

“That sounds so cool! Is there a particular theme for the collection on display or it more eclectic?”

“Oh, we don’t read up much before,” she said with a shake of her head. “We like to go in blind, no presuppositions or expectations, good or bad.”

You continued chatting about the museum with them until their stop to get off, and watched fondly as the man helped his wife up, the both of them bidding you farewell before departing. As the bus peeled away, you were able to glimpse them starting arm-in-arm down the sidewalk together.

After dropping your backpack in your chair, you headed towards the breakroom, where you found Jaemin hunched over something at a counter, his back to the door.

“Renjun’s cereal?” You surmised immediately.

He jumped in place, turning around clutching his chest. “Fuck! You scared the shit out of me, Y/N! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” He did in fact have a familiar box in his hand, clearly having been pouring some into a cup.

“I wasn’t sneaking. You just flipped out because you know you’re being a little cereal thief right now.”

He quickly closed up the box and put it away. “There. Like it never happened.”

“Why don’t you just bring your own box of cereal?”

“It just tastes better if it’s free.”

“Stolen.”

“Synonyms.” He grinned slyly, shooting you a wink as he walked out.

As you were milling about, trying to gather everything to start the first pot of coffee, Renjun entered, heading straight for where his cereal was stored. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he grabbed it, froze midair, and tested the weight of it in his hand.

“Na Jaemin…” He hissed, slamming the container onto the counter.

“Suggestion—” You announced, turning around to look at him with your arms crossed over your chest. “Keep the cereal at your desk instead of leaving it here unattended where he steals it all the time.”

“I never keep food at my desk. What if it attracts ants?”

“Padlock.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You may be onto something there…”

Renjun wandered out of the room, still musing over this with the cereal box tucked under his arm. You realized you didn’t really want a cup of coffee and put the empty coffee mug away.

The weekly agenda meeting was short and sweet, and you were slow to follow the other matchmakers down the hall after. You were the very last one to swipe in, and to take your seat at your station. Everyone else was already reading their matches, but you just stared at your blank screen, not even turning it on yet. At some point, two weeks ago, someone in this room, one of your coworkers—or maybe even you—had read a match result, looked up a bunch of numbers, and submitted a match report that had changed your life forever. You listened to them clacking away at their keyboards, dozens more strangers’ lives being irreparably altered like yours was.

“Y/N?” Your name was called from across the room, and you whipped your head around to look over at Ms. Kwon, standing in the doorway of her office. She gestured for you to come over. “A moment?”

“Oh, of course, ma’am.” You rushed to stand, hurrying up the stairs and following her into her office.

She closed the door behind you, sitting back down behind her desk, and offering the chairs across from her for you. You nervously took the one closest to the door.

“Is everything alright with you?” Your supervisor asked gently. “You’ve been sitting at your station for the past fifteen minutes and haven’t turned the screen on…”

“Sorry…” You winced, self-conscious as you pictured Ms. Kwon watching you stare at a blank screen for fifteen minutes. “I’m uhm… I…”

“Have something on your mind?”

“It’s worth it, right? Giving up your soulmate to work here?”

Ms. Kwon took your question in stride, folding her hands together over her desk as she answered, “It’s good work that we do here, Y/N, don’t get me wrong. Necessary. But choosing to live without a soulmate, that’s not a noble sacrifice on our part. We’re not any better than anybody else because we choose to work here and they don’t. I don’t know a single executive here who would talk about it like that.”

You could feel all façades slip off your face, your eyes widening slightly and your mouth parting, though no sound came out.

At your apparent speechlessness, Ms. Kwon continued, “We’re not... monks or nuns taking some holy vow, Y/N. It’s morally neutral. Neither good nor bad. It just is.”

A split-second of rage burst inside you. “Then why would any of you choose it? Why would anybody go without a soulmate?”

“Why did you?” She asked you calmly.

“I... was afraid to know,” you admitted quietly.

“Everyone here is sort of like that. They have some other reason. It’s usually not a good one, but they never have to confront it. Ever.”

“So the Factory... is the easy way out?”

“Y/N, listen to the words I’m telling you: It is neither good nor bad to choose to work here. It just is.”

“Is it good to have your soulmate, then?”

“I am not the arbiter of good or bad in your life. I’m just your boss,” she replied, sounding a bit tired now. “Look, you’re very smart. That’s why you were chosen for matchmaking. But I’m urging you to stop this line of thinking here. This is how you end up—”

“I’m resigning,” you declared, and suddenly all of the noise in your mind was quiet.

“That is what I was afraid of,” she sighed. “May I ask why?”

“I… have a soulmate.”

“Of course you do.” Ms. Kwon smiled placidly. “All of us at the Factory do. But quitting now will not put your profile back in to get matched with them.”

“No, I—I was matched. Somehow, I don’t know how, but… I have a red string, Ms. Kwon.” You held up your right hand, pointing to your pinky, even though you knew she couldn’t see it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden lightness of your shoulders. “I have a soulmate, and… this is just a job. It’s a good job, and I love it. But there’s other jobs. I don’t have another soulmate.”

She was quiet for a moment, simply looking at you intensely. After a moment, she reached out to hover her hands over her keyboard. “Would you mind if I took just a moment to confirm? It’ll take less than a minute.”

“Sure, go for it.”

Ms. Kwon quickly typed away and clicked a few things on her mouse as you quite literally twiddled your thumbs over your lap. Just a few seconds later, she took her glasses off, rubbing between her brows as she let out a deep sigh. “So it seems you have been…” She sat back in her chair. “Have you… found them?”

“Uhm, yes, ma’am,” you nodded awkwardly.

“This is why you were so interested in undoing matches as of late, I presume.”

“Yes… but not anymore.”

She sat there for a few more moments, eyes closed, before putting her glasses back on and sitting up straight again. “I accept your resignation, Y/N. With a heavy heart, might I add.”

“That means a lot, Ms. Kwon.”

“There will need to be an investigation.”

“I figured.”

“I expect full cooperation from both you and your soulmate.”

“Oh, uh, sure, sure.”

Ms. Kwon looked at you oddly. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“We’re not… exactly… friendly… right now…” You admitted quietly. “And it’s completely my fault…”

She let out a few soft, wistful chuckles. “He didn’t take too kindly to you attempting to ‘undo’ your string, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.” You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek regretfully.

“The string will tighten again, Y/N,” she reassured you, her voice kind. “The computer doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Right. Thank you, Ms. Kwon.”

She cleared her throat, becoming formal and businesslike again. “Provided the investigation turns up exactly what I think it will, I’ll also write an excellent reference letter for you, if you would like.”

“What do you think the investigation will turn up?”

“A mistake. Something was misfiled. A paper was put in the wrong stack. A name left off an email. I don’t think you tampered with the program somehow to put yourself back in. Did you?”

“No, ma’am, not at all.”

“There we go.” She shrugged. “Do you have anything else for me?”

“I get my severance pay and all that, right?”

“Of course.”

You stood up, set your key card on the desk, and shook her hand before leaving her office, walking right out of the matchmaking room as the others kept at it at their stations. Making a beeline for your desk, you could see several heads of your coworkers popping up to peer at you curiously before looking back down at their computers. One remained up and focused intently on you from further down your row, Renjun.

As you stopped next to Jaemin and opened your backpack at your desk, he took his headphones off to turn to you. “Uh hey…?”

“Hi,” you replied cheerily, beginning to grab personal possessions off your desk and load them into your bag.

“What are you doing?”

At this point, Renjun had stood up from his desk and stalked over to you two, eyes wide as he took in what you were doing. “What’s going on?”

“I quit!” You informed them, not being particularly quiet about it.

“What?!” “Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirmed, unplugging the receiver for your personal wireless mouse, and putting it back inside said mouse, before chucking the whole thing into your bag. “Resigned. Quit. Handed in my zero day notice.”

“Why? I thought you loved this job!” Renjun sputtered out, his hands on his hips.

“Yeah! Like, I thought you were going to be Director one day!” Jaemin nodded. “What happened?”

You looked around the wide-open bullpen, still having enough tact to not want to blab about your string in front of everybody. Zipping up your backpack and throwing one strap over your shoulder, you asked your friends innocently, “Walk me out?”

They practically dragged you down the stairs, flanking you on either side, none of you saying a word until you were outside.

“What’s going on?” Renjun demanded as soon as the front doors closed behind you. “Is it something we need to know about? Should we be looking for other jobs?”

“Did you ask for a raise or something and they wouldn’t give it to you?” Jaemin asked. “Or a promotion? Or—”

“No, it’s nothing like that. You guys are fine,” you promised them, lacing your two hands together in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you admitted, “I have a red string, and I found my soulmate.”

Their jaws dropped, and they looked at each other, flabbergasted, then at you, then each other again, then stared at you. Renjun was the first to shake himself out of his stupefied state, “How did that even—”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know how much I can even say until the Factory finishes their investigation, so…” You trailed off. “Yeah, that’s why I quit. And Ms. Kwon didn’t ask me to stay.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened comically as he pointed at you accusatorily. “The guy at lunch, was he your—”

“Yeah, that was him.” You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Anyway, you guys can’t say anything to anybody else at the Factory, okay? Just let management handle this however they want to. Keep your noses out of it.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Renjun asked.

“Uh… try to find him? Again?” You said sheepishly.

“You lost him?” Jaemin asked in disbelief. “Like, in a well or something? How? What?”

“We kind of had a fight… Let’s just say the ball’s in my court, and I don’t know how to play.”

He patted you on the back. “You’ve got this, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you nodded to him gratefully. “I should let you two get back to work now. Thank you both, again, for being the best work buddies a girl could ask for.”

“Hey, don’t talk like you’re going off and dying,” Renjun scoffed, poking the right side of your head.

“Yeah, we’re your real buddies, too.” Jaemin poked the left side of your head. “I still owe you your book.”

“You two have got to make sure you don’t kill each other over cereal in the mornings on your own now. I won’t be there to referee,” you warned as you took a step back, facing them.

“As long as Jaemin keeps his grubby mitts to himself, no problem.” Renjun nodded.

Jaemin grinned. “No promises.”

You laughed, going in to give each of them a hug. “Bye, guys. I’ll see you around.”

And you proceeded to walk. From the riverside park near the Factory, to the curb where you’d eaten ice cream together, to your favorite bookstore. You walked until your feet ached and your stomach growled, and even after that. You found new parts of the city that you’d never seen, never had any reason to go to before. As you came up to a street of small shops, you peered into each window carefully as you passed by. Your feet skidded to a stop all on their own and your heart leapt to your throat as you inadvertently made eye contact with a patron right on the other side of the glass of one store. The exact person you’d been looking for.

While Sungchan froze in place, you ran for the entrance to the shop, throwing open the door and ducking around shelves and displays to find him still glued to the same spot, staring out the window at the pavement where you used to be. You grabbed his left hand with your right, watching the string complete itself, and pulled him around to face you.

“Sungchan!” You said his name breathlessly, a relieved smile on your face. “Found you!”

“Y/N…” His voice was guarded, uncertain, gaze trailing over your red jumpsuit that you were still in. “Are you… on your lunch break?”

“No, I uh, I resigned this morning,” you told him, not an ounce of remorse in your tone.

His eyes widened, and his demeanor immediately changed as he looked down at you with concern. “What? You didn’t have to—Y/N, what happened? Oh my god, what are you going to do?”

A throat was very conspicuously cleared from nearby, and you snapped your head over in the direction of it, spotting a group of several guys leaning against shelves further down the store, a few trying to look busy and not like they had just been listening to your conversation. One stood at the front of them, looking directly at Sungchan.

“Oh, sorry, guys,” Sungchan waved them off. “Go on without me, okay?”

And with that, he set down the merchandise he had been browsing—which you were now seeing was a stack of old magazines; it looked as though you were in a thrift store of some kind—and pulled you out the door by the hand. Just a little ways down the street was a bench overlooking the river, and the two of you stopped there.

“I wouldn’t have been able to keep working there with a red string, Sungchan,” you explained. “If I didn’t resign, I would’ve been fired whenever they found out. I wanted to tell them myself.”

He frowned. “When I said you had a choice…”

“I chose to keep the string, and stop looking for a way to undo it. I know that’s what you were asking me.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask…” he sighed. “What made you change your mind?”

“A lot of different things, but… I think realizing that I’m not that special.”

“Y/N, I—”

“No, I mean, I kind of had this complex about working at the Factory. Thinking that it was some sacrifice for the greater good, me giving up my soulmate so I could help other people find theirs. But like… it was just a job.” You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded now, even just a few hours after resigning.

Sungchan smiled a little at that, but still looked pensive. “So what are you going to do for work now?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, but couldn’t keep the giddy grin off your face. “That’s really scary… but it’s kind of exciting, in a weird way, right? I’ve had the same job since I got out of school, and now I can do anything.”

“We’ll find you a job. That’s like, Priority One, okay?” He reassured you. “We’ll do some brainstorming, find some job listings, we’ll figure something out.”

“We?”

“Yeah?” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not leaving you out to dry after all this.”

“Thanks, Sungchan.” You fidgeted with your fingers, eyes gracing over the finished red string again. “And uh, if that’s Priority One, then Priority Two is probably going to have to be the investigation.”

“The what?”

“The Bureau has to investigate how this even happened, our match. Me resigning was just the beginning, not the end. They’re expecting our full cooperation.”

“What are we going to have to cooperate with, exactly?” He crossed his arms.

“They’ll probably just want to ask us some questions. Me more than you, since I’m the one who actually worked there. Ms. Kwon—my old boss—made it sound like it’d be more a formality than anything else. I’m sure they’re already auditing all my match reports for the past two years, and looking through my key card log, and going through my computer as we speak.”

“Alright, yeah. Fine.”

With his agreement, the two of you were quiet for a moment, and you felt an air of uncertainty. You’d found each other, you were soulmates, you weren’t trying to undo your string anymore, and yet you were still practically strangers. Where did you go from here?

“So… what’s your favorite color?” You asked.

“What?” He blinked, seeming confused at the sudden change in topic.

“I don’t know anything about you…” You said quietly, feeling your skin get warm with embarrassment. “I don’t know, that’s just the first thing that came to mind. Forget it, it was stupid.”

He chuckled and answered anyway, “Purple. My favorite color is purple.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“What’s yours?”

“Pink. Uh, cotton candy pink, specifically.”

“That’s good. That’s really good.” He was still laughing, more than your awkward question warranted.

“Okay, what’s so funny? Other than me being stupid.”

“No, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…” He reassured you, trailing off as he seemed to be trying to put his thoughts together. “There’re all these books, and magazine articles and stuff, you know. 15 Things to Not Do When You Meet Your Soulmate. 10 Best Opening Lines for Meeting the One. I Met My Soulmate and It’s Awkward: Now What? How to Get Over First Meeting Flutters. And you’re nothing like that. You’ve probably never even read anything of that sort of stuff, have you?”

“No…” You shook your head, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Have you?”

He held his hands up defensively. “Well, call it morbid curiosity—”

You couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to cover it with your hand, having the perfect image of him lying on his bed on his stomach, legs kicking up behind him as he scrolled on his phone late at night reading cheesy internet columns about love.

“And that’s funny, yeah, okay. I didn’t fool you with the… yeah.” Sungchan laughed again, this time at himself, and you were quickly starting to think that it might be your favorite sound.

“It’s cute, it’s cute!” You promised. “I’m uhm, sure me running away really threw a wrench in whatever great opening line you had planned.”

“Yes and no.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You were really pretty, and when I looked at you, I suddenly forgot every word I knew. And then you ran away, and I was just confused at how I had messed it up before opening my mouth.”

Your body burned on the inside and outside twofold from him simultaneously saying you were so pretty it made him speechless, and also the shame at how stupendously you had fucked up your first meeting. You squeezed your eyes shut, covered your face with both hands, and shook your head as you groaned out an apology, “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, really— Helped snap me out of it, you know?” He chuckled, and you were glad he could at least see some humor in it now. “Looking back now, completely understandable for you to do that. Sorry again for chasing you through the streets, I’m sure that didn’t help.”

“Also understandable on your part,” you said. Before you could scramble for another thing to ask Sungchan, your stomach rumbled loudly, and you cringed, knowing full well that he had definitely been able to hear that. “Sorry…”

“I was supposed to grab food with the guys anyway.” Sungchan stood up. “Let’s get you something to eat, hm?”

You followed him to a small café a couple streets away, and after grabbing your food, you two sat at a table outside. “So what do you do? For work? Or are you a student? You know quite a bit about my old job, but…”

“Oh, I’m an artist.”

“What kind? Like, what medium? Is that the right way to ask that? I guess I’m asking what kind of stuff you make?”

“Don’t worry, those were all good questions. Different questions, but good.” He smiled warmly, taking a sip of his drink before answering. “I mostly focus on making mixed media collages. Sometimes I source my materials from other places, but sometimes I make it myself. Take my own pictures, paint it myself, put the clay on myself. Just depends. So I work with a lot of different materials and mediums, too.”

“Oh!” You immediately thought of the couple you talked to on the bus that morning. “You should totally check out the art museum on 2nd this month! I heard they have an exhibit showcasing mixed media collages. I haven’t been, but there’s this couple on my bus in the mornings who goes every month, they told me about it today.”

“Did they say the artist?” He asked mildly, picking at his food with his utensil.

“No, they don’t do any research before, they like to go in blind.”

“Yeah, uhm, that’s my exhibit,” he practically whispered the last two words behind a napkin as he wiped his mouth with it, looking down at his plate. His ears were bright red, and he grabbed his drink to take another long sip.

Your eyes widened. “Wait really?”

“I understand if you think I’m lying, it’s on the exhibit webpage on the museum website, but yeah…”

“Sungchan, that’s so cool!” You exclaimed, even as you brought out your phone to bring up the website. Not because you didn’t believe him, but just because reading the headline of how the museum was proud to feature ‘New Local Artist Jung Sungchan’ in an exclusive exhibit was practically surreal. He, however, still couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Why do you look like you want to die?”

“I didn’t want to use my real name, but my… manager thought it would be a good idea. And obviously I had to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his face, making everything from his forehead to his neck pink. “I just hate people looking at my art and thinking they know me. They can look at my art all I want, project onto it, feel from it, call it stupid, say they could have done better, I don’t care, I just don’t want them to know it’s mine and think they know me because of it.”

“Who’s your manager that made you use your real name? Don’t artists use pseudonyms sometimes?”

“My sister’s husband. He’s good at his job, and he’s done a lot for me. I’m really thankful for him, honestly. It was more like when I was first starting out, he thought that using a pseudonym would make me seem sort of pretentious. People would like a regular guy a lot more.” Sungchan sighed. “I agreed, and have regretted that decision with every art show I’ve attended since.”

You nodded slowly, tapping your fingers on the tabletop in a rhythm as you thought. “So… why do you think you make art, then?”

“I have to,” he shrugged. “Not making art would be worse. People connecting with my art… I like that. But I don’t like when they try to assume things about me because of my art. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” you assured him. “Death of the collagist.”

His face cracked into a grin. “Exactly.”

“Would you mind if I went to your exhibit sometime?” You asked. “You totally don’t have to come, I’m sure that’d be weird for you. But I’d like to go see it, and not make any assumptions about you at all.”

“It’s a public museum, I can’t stop you from going.”

“Well, yes… I don’t know, it’s still your art, and I’m not just a member of the public, am I?”

Sungchan’s eyes held a softness as he looked at you across the table, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not just a member of the public to me.”

“And you’re not just some random artist to me,” you responded.

“I wouldn’t mind if you went, on one condition.”

“Mm?” You prompted, expecting it to be something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me what you think’ or ‘don’t ever mention it to me.’ Nothing at all in the realm of what he actually requested.

“I go with you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, yeah, of course!”

“Then it’s a date.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling shy at him calling it a date, turning your eyes back down to your food. “Yeah, okay. A date.”

You ended up spending the whole day with Sungchan, just getting to know each other. And browsing online job listings for you—turns out he wasn’t kidding about that being Priority One.

He used revising your résumé as an opportunity to learn more about you. Education—Oh where did you go to school? What did you study? Which devolved into you two telling stories about classes you liked, professors and teachers you loved and hated, and old school friends. Work Experience—So what actually was your official title? What were your job responsibilities? Which led to you fondly reminiscing in your times at the office with Jaemin and Renjun, talking about your training to be a Systems Analytics Specialist, and his disbelief in how exactly you even did your job. It was when you got to the Skills portion that you balked a little bit. It felt like your only skills were specific to the Factory: reading the matches from the computer, inputting match reports, keeping Renjun from killing Jaemin over a box of cereal. Sungchan helped you get a bit creative with your technological experience, creative thinking, quick learning, and conflict resolution skills.

As he walked you back to your apartment after getting dinner together, you were still asking him your never-ending stream of questions. “So what were you supposed to be doing with your friends today?”

“I was collecting.” He craned his neck up, and you followed his line of vision to look up at the few specks of light in the sky that you could see against the brightness of the city. “Gathering materials for collages. Thrift stores are pretty good for old magazines, books, newspapers, photo albums, all kinds of stuff. The guys were tagging along, they wanted to get lunch and do some shopping too.”

“Oh. Sorry for taking you away from them.”

He gave you a funny look. “No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re not going to apologize for that.”

You blinked at him in confusion. “Uh… I think I already did?”

He stopped you two in the middle of the sidewalk, devoid of other pedestrians, holding your eye contact very seriously. “Thank you for finding me today.”

“Oh,” you chuckled nervously. “You’re welcome. Thank you for… everything else about today. The look on your face when I found you—I was sort of afraid that you were going to run this time.”

He laughed, continuing to walk again. “Did I really look like that?”

“Through the window, yeah. When I came in the shop, though, it was more like… you thought you were dreaming. Like you were going to pinch yourself at any moment, just in case. Or you thought I was pranking you.”

“Well, you’ll have to understand why I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high; all our previous meetings didn’t quite have fairytale endings.”

“No, they didn’t,” you agreed.

“But this time felt different. So I let myself be a little hopeful,” he admitted with a grin, nudging your arm with his. “And I was right.”

“How’d you figure that?”

“You didn’t act like finding me was a terrible inconvenience, first.”

You winced. “Mm-mhm.”

“And the smile on your face when you ran in and grabbed my hand.”

“What about it?”

“I’d never seen you smile before that.” He then added a teasing, “I didn’t know if you could.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad.”

He snickered, affectionately bumping his elbow against yours again. You rolled your eyes, smiling as you elbowed him back. You arrived at the main entry to your building soon, and you stopped there to say goodbye to Sungchan. He looked between the door that you were standing in front of, and the familiar bus stop just a few meters down the road, well within view.

“Oh wow, it must have really freaked you out when I jogged by your stop, huh?” He commented, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, you can imagine the ‘ready to fistfight the divine universe’ energy I had in my body at that point.”

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Pretty sure I witnessed some of it, too.”

You looked longingly at the bus stop, holding yourself, and sighed. “It’s going to be weird not getting up and going to work tomorrow.”

“So what are you going to do tomorrow? With no work?”

You passed a bubble side to side in your mouth as you thought, then shrugged. “Sleep in?”

“Great way to start the day.”

“And then… send my résumé to some of those places we found?”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Probably read outside somewhere if it’s a nice day?”

“Ooh, sounds nice.”

You dug your toe into the ground. “I don’t know, what are you doing?”

“Sleep in, and I promised Shotaro I’d help him with this thing, but then… if you don’t mind the company, I think reading outside sounds pretty lovely?”

“What are you helping Shotaro with?”

“Taking Instagram pictures.”

You let out a short round of giggles. “I’d like to spend time with you tomorrow too, Sungchan. Just let me know when you’re done helping Shotaro with that thing.”

“It’ll be the quickest photoshoot he’s ever done in his life.”

“No, still do it right!”

“It’ll be right, just quick.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, but the fond smile on your face very obviously negated that sentiment. “Goodnight, Sungchan.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And with that, you unlocked your building door and gave him one last wave over your shoulder before closing and locking it back up behind you. Alone in the stairwell, you let out a sigh of contentment.

The next morning, you slept in on a Tuesday for the first time in a while and didn’t put on your red jumpsuit after getting out of bed. Instead, you shuffled out to your kitchen and made yourself breakfast, which you slowly enjoyed with a cup of tea. After taking your sweet time in a nice hot shower, you got into a t-shirt and pants, and sat on your couch to start sending in applications to new jobs. As you typed on your laptop, you’d catch the occasional flash of the red loop around your pinky finger, but instead of filling you with you dread or apprehension, it now made you smile a bit, and push on with your task, knowing you had someone right there in your corner just on the other end of that string. After a couple hours of filling out applications, searching through more prospective job listings, and finding a few new ones that had been posted since you and Sungchan looked yesterday, you deemed that to be plenty for your first morning of job hunting. It was nearly lunchtime, and you hadn’t left your apartment yet. Looking outside, you saw that it was sunny, with a few passing clouds creating occasional patches of shadow, and breezes gently rustled the leaves on the trees. A perfectly lovely day.

Gathering up a couple books, you packed a light going-out bag, then headed out. As you passed your bus stop, you thought of the regulars on your morning commute, and wondered if they noticed your disappearance this morning, and if they thought anything of it, like you thought of the primary school teacher sometimes. You hoped the sisters got to school okay, and that the elderly couple liked Sungchan’s exhibit, and even that the office workers who you had never spoken to had good days at work—not too terribly stressful. As you had just arrived at your destination and picked out the perfect spot to read, your phone buzzed with a text.

[sungchan: done! with a satisfied customer, might i add]

[you: oh good! i’m done with my applications for the morning too! out reading right now]

You sent your location, then took your book out as there was another buzz.

[sungchan: omw :) ]

You were so caught up in the chapter you were reading that you didn’t realize Sungchan had arrived until he set his bag down next to you. You jumped a little bit, closing the book on your thumb as you clutched your hand over your heart, which was now beating wildly out of rhythm.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a scare.” Sungchan didn’t look that sorry, as he had a clearly amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you. “I did call your name.”

“It’s alright, sorry I didn’t hear you.” You waved off his apology, then nodded to the spot beside you for him to sit down. “Lovely day out, huh?”

“It is,” he agreed, stretching out his long legs as he settled in against the large tree trunk. He reached into his bag, and you looked with intrigue at what book he was going to read for today.

You perked up with interest as you recognized the cover immediately. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to read that book! I love that author. Just haven’t picked it up yet.”

“Yeah it uhm—” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “It was the book you were looking at when we met. The one you dropped.”

“You…”

“I didn’t know how long it was going to be until the next time I saw you, so I went back and bought it. You know, sort of hoping I could learn something about you in the meantime.”

“And in the meantime, I was scheming to undo our string…” You muttered, eyes falling to your lap.

“Which you, no offense, failed at,” he clicked his tongue and elbowed you teasingly. “I’ll speedread so you can borrow it after me, okay?”

“No, read it right! That author’s so good, you’ll miss stuff!”

“I’ll read it carefully! Just also super fast.”

“Those are literally antonyms when it comes to reading!” You insisted.

“You’ve never seen me speedread then.”

You smacked your open book over your face, despite knowing that he was joking. “Oh my god…”

Two weeks later, and you and Sungchan were going to The Soulmate Factory for your interviews. You were sort of surprised it had taken them this long to talk to you, but at the same time, that it was happening this quickly. It felt weird going to the Factory not in your jumpsuit, but you knew that would’ve been possibly the worst choice. So you instead put on something nice, presentable, but not overly formal. After all, it wasn’t your job interview again. Sungchan was wearing a button-up shirt, a stark contrast to the rather casual attire you’d always seen him in before. As the two of you entered the lobby of the Factory, you could see him looking around at everything with an air of suspicion.

You stopped at the front desk, giving the attendant a polite smile and starting to introduce yourself, despite having just been colleagues a few weeks ago, “Hi, uhm Y/L/N Y/N and Jung Sungchan, here for a 9:00 appointment with Ms. Kwon?”

“Of course,” she nodded, looking between you and Sungchan with a strained smile of her own. “You… two can have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Leading Sungchan over to sit on a settee nearby, you looked around, taking a few deep breaths as your knee bounced up and down nervously on its own. You had gotten the two of you here fifteen minutes early, so you already knew that you’d be waiting for some time.

“Why did she say it like that?” He hissed to you under his breath.

“Say what?” You whispered back, looking at her out of the corner of your eye to see if she was listening, but it looked like she was taking an incoming call.

“You two can have a seat.” He repeated snidely. “And the way she looked at us? Looked at you? Like we’re the weird ones for being soulmates?”

“I told you, Sungchan, there’s a reason Bureau employees don’t get soulmates. People will think I rigged it somehow. Even other employees.”

“You said it was impossible for you to have messed with it. Shouldn’t they of all people know that?”

“Well, with me being a matchmaker…” You tried to think of how to succinctly sum this up without telling Sungchan too much stuff that he wasn’t supposed to know right before his interview. “Even other Bureau employees don’t know what goes on in the matchmaking room. I’m sure there’s been rumors since I’ve left.”

“But you didn’t do anything. What’s the point of working here if you’re just as bad as the people who don’t?”

“They also probably think that when this gets out I’m going to give the Bureau and the employees here a bad rep, make the public distrust them for a while. Even the employees that don’t think I did anything will probably hate me at least a little for that.”

“Well I still don’t like it,” he huffed, resting an arm along the back of the furniture behind you.

“You’re allowed to not like it. I’m just saying there’s not much we can do about it.”

He proceeded to focus his hater energy on making comments about the décor being tacky, and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly and join in. You never really thought about it much before, but being called The Soulmate Factory and having a color palette of red, pink, and white was a bit much. You two also had a small game of how many “subtle” red lines you could find in the designs of decorative throw pillows, rugs, carpeting, and pieces of abstract art on the walls. Finally, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and looked up to see a somewhat familiar face. It wasn’t Ms. Kwon, as you had hoped for, but Lee Jeno, one of the executive assistants that you often saw when he was sent down from the ninth floor on important errands by his bosses.

“Jung Sungchan?” He called, looking directly at Sungchan.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He lifted his hand that had been resting on his leg between pointing out tacky décor. He ushered you up with him with the hand that was behind you on the couch. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Sorry, just Mr. Jung right now,” Jeno clarified with a slight wince.

Sungchan looked like he was about to argue, but you patted his arm reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Sungchan. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

He sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Alright, fine. I’ll be back soon.”

“Be good.”

“Always am.”

You watched him follow Jeno up the stairs, Sungchan casting you one last glance over his shoulder before the two of them fully disappeared from your view. It was then that you finally sat back down, and started chewing on your thumbnail.

Only fifteen minutes later Jeno came back down the stairs. Alone. “Y/N?” He addressed you more casually.

You stood up and didn’t hide the concern on your face as you looked around behind him. “Where’s Sungchan?”

“Mr. Jung has been moved to another waiting room. You’ll see him after your interview.”

Letting out a breath, you tried really hard not to shoot the messenger as you responded. “Fine. Lead the way, Jeno.”

The fact that you were going up the stairs and not to the elevator was interesting. You must not be going to his bosses’ floor, unless they wanted you to collapse on your way there.

“It’s good to see you again, by the way,” your former coworker said quietly. “I had to hand-deliver a memo to Ms. Kwon the other day and the matchmaking room was weirdly empty without you at your station.”

“Thanks.” A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “I wouldn’t have even noticed your presence if I was there but… it’s nice to know that someone noticed my absence.”

“Well, we did our intro training together. You don’t forget those people.”

“No, you don’t,” you agreed. “Us, Jaemin, Renjun, Donghyuck in Budgeting.”

“Is it nice? Your life now? Don’t tell me anything specific, I can’t know.”

You laughed. “I haven’t lived much of it, honestly. I’ve only been gone a few weeks.”

“That’s true. There’s just been so much that’s happened, it feels like a lifetime.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“But has it been good at least? Overall, you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good, Jeno. He’s good.”

“Of course he is. The computer never makes mistakes.” And with that, the two of you stopped in front of a conference room on the second floor. He nodded politely to you. “This is where I leave you. If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best, Y/N. With everything.”

“Thank you. Bye, Jeno.” You smiled at him, knocking on the door as he pivoted on his heel and walked down the hall.

“Come in.” Came a familiar voice from within. Opening the door, you saw two figures stand up from the small conference table. Ms. Kwon, and a man who wasn’t familiar to you at all.

“Y/N, hello,” Ms. Kwon nodded to you. She didn’t even let you open your mouth to greet her back, gesturing to the man with her. “I’m not sure if you ever had the pleasure to meet AD Yang of Risk Management while you were here.”

And in one curt sentence, she had told you everything you needed to know about the situation: This was the assistant director of the risk management department at the Bureau, aka the legal department, which meant that this was serious serious, this would not be some quick interview to check off boxes, and she had only been let in because of her job title and as a professional courtesy to her, she wouldn’t be in control of the processions. But most importantly—she was on your side, for whatever that was worth. And honestly, it was worth a lot to keeping your composure as you turned to face the man.

AD Yang was deceptively young, you wouldn’t have pinned him as being as high up in the Bureau as he was just by looking at him. He only looked to be maybe ten years older than you, not a touch of grey in his pristine black hair, and only a hint of the beginning of worry lines on his forehead. He wore a suit, as all Bureau Executives did—it was only the lower level workers like you who wore the red jumpsuits—though his looked just a little too big on him, and his red tie was a little loose and slightly crooked, as if he still hadn’t mastered tying it yet. Both these things only aided in making him look younger and inexperienced. But the air of caution Ms. Kwon had about the whole situation immediately let you know not to underestimate him. You were thinking maybe his dress choices were intentional, so people would do exactly that, let their guards down around him.

AD Yang offered you a practically boyish smile as he held out his hand across the table, which your former supervisor hadn’t even done. You gingerly shook it as he introduced himself. “Please, just Mr. Yang is fine. Ms. Kwon is always so formal, you know. And I’ll call you Ms. Y/L/N, so we’re all on the same level here.”

You nodded.

“I don’t think we ever did have the pleasure to meet, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Yang kept talking, his tone conversational. He then said as if it were a joke, “People usually only see me when they’re in serious trouble, you know?” He laughed, the only one to, then reassured you, “That isn’t what’s happening here, don’t worry. We’re just going to ask you a few questions, then you and Mr. Jung can head on out and off to your new life together, okay?”

You nodded.

“So, why don’t we sit, hm?”

The three of you took your seats, the two of them on one side of the conference table, you on the other. Mr. Yang took a moment to shuffle his papers, then smacked his hand to his forehead as if he’d suddenly remembered something. “I’m sorry, would you like some water, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get started then.” He reached for a small device in the middle of the table. “I’ll be needing to record this conversation. Is that alright, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sure, yeah.” Not like you could really say no.

“Great.” His boyish smile disappeared as soon as the recorder clicked on. He started by listing off the date and time, then addressed you. “This is AD Robert Yang, interviewing Ms. Y/L/N Y/N. Also present is Ms. Kwon Siyeon, Supervisor of Systems Analysis and Reporting. Ms. Y/L/N, you are aware that I’m recording this conversation, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“A few formalities before we begin: Since I have the recording going, I ask that you let me finish my question before you answer, even if you think you know what I’m going to ask. Cross-chatter is a bit difficult to parse out when you have to listen back to it.”

“Okay.”

“I also want you to answer everything aloud. No nodding or shaking your head, or ‘uh-huh’ or ‘nuh-unh.’” He showed the motions as he did them, and you could tell he had done this spiel many times before. “The non-verbal cues don’t translate great in an audio format.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, clicked his pen a couple of times, then looked up at you to begin with his first question. “Now, can you tell me how long you worked at The Bureau of Interpersonal Affairs prior to your resignation?”

“About five years.”

“Do you remember when your first day was?”

“Of training or on my own?”

“Training. After being hired.”

“Probably… spring five years ago. May, after I graduated.”

“Okay, good, good. And so you were hired, did your six months of standard training, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what happened?”

“I did more training to be a Systems Analytics Specialist.”

“How much?”

“Two and a half years.”

“So three years of training total, then you got to start on your own as a… Systems Analytics Specialist.”

“Yes.”

“I believe the other name for that position is matchmaker, correct?”

You bit down on your tongue to keep back an eyeroll. All of you in this room had to be aware that he was feigning ignorance right now. He might as well have asked if the Bureau was also sometimes called The Soulmate Factory. “Yes, we’re often called that as well.”

“More than Systems Analytics Specialist?”

“Yes.”

He jumped topics. “So why did you start working at the Bureau?”

“It sounded like a good place to work.”

“How so?”

“It seemed like the Bureau did good work. Helping people find their soulmates.”

“And you didn’t want to find yours?”

“I was willing to give that up for something bigger than me.”

“Did you join the Bureau with the intent of manipulating your soulmate match?”

“No.”

“Did you sign up to be a matchmaker with the intent of manipulating your soulmate match?”

“No. I didn’t sign up to be a matchmaker in the first place.”

“You didn’t?” He arched an eyebrow curiously.

“No.”

“How did you become a matchmaker?”

You glanced over at your former boss. “Ms. Kwon chose me at the end of my six months of basic training.”

“Why you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“You agreed to two and a half more years of training for a specialized position that doesn’t even recruit one new person a year without being told why you were suited for that position?”

“Yes. I was young and it paid better. I didn’t need to know.”

“When you were working as a matchmaker, were you ever asked by friends or family to manipulate their matches in any way, shape, or form?” He switched topics again. You weren’t sure if he was trying to disorient you, or if he simply decided that he was done with that line of questioning and wanted to move on with the next one.

You opened your mouth to say ‘no,’ then suddenly thought of the sisters on your bus in the mornings, recalling a day when the younger one had been crying as you got on, and her sister stopped you specifically. Tilting your head, you replied, “I once pinky promised a little girl that I wouldn’t match her with this smelly boy in her class. Does that count?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

He made a show of scribbling something down on his notes, of which he had already filled up the first page of a large legal pad. AD Yang flipped to the next page as he announced, “I’m going to skip forward a little in time. When you found out you had the string, what did you do first?”

“Went home.”

“Went home?” He repeated.

“It showed up after work. So I went home.”

“Where were you?”

“The bus stop outside of the Bureau.”

“Around what time of day was this?”

“Between five and five-twenty.”

“That’s a pretty specific time frame. How do you know that?”

“It was after work ended but before my bus showed up.”

“So the Bureau was still open, then. There were still people inside that you could have reported this to, such as Ms. Kwon here?”

“I don’t know if there were people in the building, and certainly not if Ms. Kwon specifically was still in the building, since I was outside and could not see inside of the building,” you answered frankly.

“Right, of course.” He gave you a close-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Do people usually stay after five here, at the Bureau? To your knowledge?”

“Some people, sure, on some days.”

“So, it would have been a good guess, that there would’ve been somebody inside, when you realized that you had a string?”

“Possibly.”

“Then why didn’t you go back inside?”

“Honestly, I panicked,” you admitted, closing your eyes for a moment as you thought back to that night again. “I thought it was impossible for me to get one. I thought I might’ve been able to figure something out on my own.”

“Figure something out? Like what?”

You opened your eyes and gave a half-hearted ‘I-don’t-know’ gesture with your hands that had been resting on the tabletop, despite his prior instructions to keep non-verbal cues to a minimum. “Like what happened, what went wrong.”

“And did you?” He prompted.

“No. I didn’t.” Not even a little bit.

“And is that when you told Ms. Kwon? When you gave up?”

“No.” You told her when you decided you wanted to keep the string. Not because the dead-ends had frustrated you.

“Why did you tell her? Why not continue your renegade investigation?”

“You’re asking me why I followed proper protocol?”

“I’m trying to piece together what happened. All the events that happened, and exactly in what order. What happened that caused you to tell Ms. Kwon at the time that you did? Did you even tell her? Or was it found out? I’ve been assuming, I’m sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, but consciously relaxed your face back into a pleasantly neutral expression. Ms. Kwon would have obviously had to do her own report including all of the details of your conversation with her. He should know all of those particulars. Was he trying to catch Ms. Kwon in a lie?

“Yes, I chose to report it. Because I had done some self-reflection. And I don’t think there’s anything further to be said that is of import for the Bureau to know.”

There was a moment of still air as he held eye contact with you. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw Ms. Kwon’s lips part, as if she were about to say something, then she closed her mouth again, waiting. Mr. Yang cleared his throat.

“Sorry to jump around like this, I’m sure it must be disorienting, but I’m going to go back in time now.” He was very clearly not sorry at all. “Did you know Jung Sungchan before this incident?”

“No.”

“Had you ever met, seen, or heard of him in passing?”

“Not to my recollection, no.” Sure, you could have walked by him on the street before, but you had no way to know that.

“It’s my understanding that he’s an artist, you may have seen some of his work? Heard of him that way?”

“No.”

“So there was no reason that you would have wanted to manipulate your match with him?”

“No.”

“How soon after getting your string did you meet Mr. Jung?”

Now you felt like he was messing with you. “You have that data.”

“I’m asking you.”

“The string appeared on Monday evening, we met that Saturday morning.”

“So, less than a week?”

“Yes.”

“Quick.”

“I suppose,” you replied noncommittally.

AD Yang hummed a single note in the back of his throat as he looked over one of his papers, then his sharp eyes were back on you. “How many times did you meet before reporting your string to Ms. Kwon?”

You had to take a moment to think before answering. “Four, including the first meeting.”

“I’d like to return to your job, for a moment. Now, I have Ms. Kwon here with me not only because she was your boss, but because I obviously have no clue what goes on in that room when you guys work with the computer. Really, from what I’ve heard, it’s some incredible stuff. So she’s kind of here to help me out in case I go way off the mark with what I’m asking you with some of this.” He let out an imitation of a nervous laugh, grabbing a piece of paper from his stack. He pushed it over to you, asking, “Now, can you take a look at this for me?”

It was a nearly blank piece of copy paper, except for one long string of characters printed across it.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

“What do you see here, Ms. Y/L/N?” Mr. Yang questioned.

You looked up from the paper, having to consciously choose not to slip back into reading it and instead focus on the conversation at hand. “It’s raw match data from the computer. This is one match.”

“Does it look familiar to you at all?”

“I mean, it looks like every other match I’ve ever read.”

“So you don’t remember reading this specific match at all?”

“No, I don’t remember reading this specific match.” You didn’t even need to look at it again. Of course you didn’t remember it, they were all just a bunch of stuff that you read practically in a trance, there was no way you’d be able to remember any of them.

He grabbed another paper from his folder to show to you, a clipping from a spreadsheet of some kind, several columns showing a date, time, and eight-digit code that was unfamiliar to you, except for the letters appended to the end of it—your initials.

“According to our audit logs, this match was read at, and the match report submitted from, your station in the matchmaking room.”

“Okay.”

“Is it safe to assume, therefore, that you submitted the match report?”

“Was it during business hours?”

“Yes.”

“Was I swiped in?”

“Yes.”

“Did Ms. Kwon see me at my station during that time?”

“Ms. Kwon?” Mr. Yang prompted her without breaking eye contact with you.

“I do not have specific recollection of this day, so I cannot say in the affirmative or the negative,” she spoke for the first time since you had entered, and you had to suppress your smile at her response.

The man lifted his arms up and then down in a sort of ‘oh well’ motion. “We don’t know.”

“The electronic data does make it seem likely that I read this match and submitted this match report,” you finally said.

“This is your match with Mr. Jung.”

You tried not to show your utter shock on your face—you knew he wanted to get some kind of reaction from you—but you couldn’t help the sudden jolt forward in your seat as you went to pull the piece of paper closer to you again, your eyes drinking in the characters once more.

jkD%NVSC3%JCacN%vWS5#k!Z4GqGW#ZfMyqGUfc@wQT5L5vK2uWU5N*5Lg&6

There was still no way for you to distinguish specifics, but just knowing that somewhere in this seemingly meaningless string of nonsense was you and Sungchan, you kept rereading it, desperately wishing for it to feel special now.

“And how do you read the matches? Walk me through the process.” AD Yang’s voice brought your focus back to the present.

You exchanged a knowing look with Ms. Kwon. “I really can’t…”

“Trade secrets?” He said humorously. “It’s alright, I work at the Bureau.”

“No, I mean, it’s impossible to describe. I can’t tell you what I’m reading or how I know. I just do.”

“Then how do you know it’s right?”

“Because it is.”

Ms. Kwon stepped in then, “Mr. Yang, I’m advising you that you are getting close to questioning the computer and the program itself, not Ms. Y/L/N.”

He held his hands up in a sort of surrender. “Well that is certainly what we are not here to do, hm? Let me just take a look at my notes, and make sure I’ve covered everything. Should only be a few more minutes of your time, Ms. Y/L/N.”

AD Yang kept you in there until you started watching the sun begin its journey downwards in the sky. At some point, you started going in circles, and you knew he was just trying to catch you in lies, or confuse you, or get you to admit more than you had before out of exhaustion, or in hopes that he’d let you out. But you gave no different answers, no contradictory or new information, and you knew he’d eventually let you out. After all, there was no proof anywhere that you had done anything wrong, because you hadn’t. The most they could really get on was not telling someone at the Bureau sooner when you’d gotten your string but what could they actually do? Fire you?

When Mr. Yang finally declared the interview over, and turned the recorder off, you had to keep in your groan of relief. Instead, you maintained your composure, standing up when they did in order to shake their hands.

“Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. I do apologize for taking so much of your day, that had not been my intention,” Mr. Yang once again laughed as he shook your hand. “But this was very helpful, and I promise, yours and Mr. Jung’s answers are going to help us here at Bureau improve the way we do things in the future.”

“Right. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Yang.” You nodded politely to him, then turned to your old boss, a genuine smile coming to your face. “It was good seeing you again, Ms. Kwon.”

“Jeno had something to do, so I’ll show you out, Y/N.” She informed you, gesturing to the door.

The two of you were quiet as you walked through the halls of the second floor, until you finally reached a small waiting area on the other end of the building, made up of only a few uncomfortable-looking armchairs. Sungchan was the only person there, slumped down in a chair and bouncing his leg as he cracked his knuckles. He looked up when he heard footsteps, jumping to his feet as soon as he saw you, and while you would’ve felt a little weird about running in an office, he clearly didn’t care, taking just a few long strides to reach you and wrap his arms around you.

“God, Y/N! There you are! What the hell? Why the fuck did they keep you so long? They wouldn’t tell me anything, just that you were still being interviewed and I could either leave or keep waiting. I wasn’t going to leave but—”

“I’m fine, Sungchan, I’m fine,” you reassured him, hugging him back despite the slight awkwardness you felt with Ms. Kwon still definitely being right there. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He didn’t say anything else, just kept holding you as you turned around in his arms to address Ms. Kwon.

“Uhm, we’re good to leave, right? Do you need anything else from us?”

She was clearly fighting back a smile as she replied, “I ask that you wait just a little bit longer, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” you nodded. “What is it? Something for me to sign? An NDA or something?”

“Just a moment, okay?” And with that, she left.

“God, I fucking hate it here,” Sungchan grumbled into your shoulder. “Let’s just go, whatever NDA or whatever the hell they want you to sign is going to suck and be coercive as shit and not worth it. It probably won’t even be enforceable or whatever.”

“I can’t even tell how much of that is even good or bad legal advice. I think all of it was probably bad?”

“It’s definitely going to be written by that fucking skeeze who interviewed you for like seven hours straight, which means it’s going to be bad.”

“What if it’s stuff for my severance pay and benefits? Ms. Kwon also said she’d write me a letter of rec if the investigation went well—”

“Y/N!” “Y/N!” You were cut off by two familiar voices calling your name from down the hall, and whipped your head around to look, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Jaemin and Renjun were rushing towards you, waving all four of their arms wildly, as if you could miss them. You squealed, darting over to them and throwing your arms around their necks.

“Oh my god!” You laughed as they hugged you tightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you guys today!”

“We were specifically not told when you were coming,” Renjun admitted. “I even got blocked out of the Executive calendars for the month.”

“Ms. Kwon just came and got us,” Jaemin said. “Though, word had already spread.”

“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” You double-checked, looking around despite being in a rather empty corner of the building. “I don’t know what people have being saying, but based on the less-than-warm-welcome we got at reception, it doesn’t seem like it’s been good.”

“Do we want to be seen with our friend?” Renjun poked the right side of your head.

“Duh.” Jaemin poked the left side of your head.

“Yeah, I didn’t miss that.” You scowled at them.

“It’s so weird seeing you in normal clothes,” Jaemin commented, making you really look between their jumpsuits and your blouse and pants.

“It’s still a bit weird being in normal clothes,” you sighed.

“So… you going to introduce us?” Renjun nodded to where Sungchan was still standing awkwardly by himself in the waiting area.

“Yeah, come on!” You grabbed them by the arms to drag them over. Sungchan looked up from where he had been busying himself with a loose thread on his dress shirt, eyes landing expectantly on you. You let go of your friends to loop your arm with his. “Sungchan, this is Jaemin and Renjun, we used to work together. Jaemin’s desk was next to mine out in the bullpen, and Renjun was a few desks down from us. Guys, this is Jung Sungchan, my soulmate.”

You could hear your voice pitch up with giddiness as you introduced Sungchan in that way, and watched as his face relaxed into a smile as soon as you had called him your soulmate. He offered his free hand out to the other two.

“Nice to meet you guys,” he said sincerely. “I’ve heard good things from Y/N.”

“Then she must’ve been talking about a different Jaemin,” Renjun snorted.

“And a different Renjun,” Jaemin agreed.

“So, what are the wild theories about how I did it?” You asked. “Not the official one, I know you two don’t know that. But the breakroom gossip, the water cooler chat, the cereal death match chatter.”

“Rumor has it…” Jaemin lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “You were desperate to reunite with a long-lost childhood love and that’s why you applied to be a matchmaker.”

You snorted. “Cheesy.”

“I heard one about Ms. Kwon being in on it because you’re her secret daughter,” Renjun grinned.

“Ooh, that one’s good.”

“With someone with a string.”

You mock gasped. “Scandalous.”

Jaemin added, “I heard a version sort of like that, but you were Ms. Kwon and the Director’s secret daughter, which is obviously how you had enough pull to get it to happen.”

“Then how did I end up with my parents? Did they pay them off to adopt me?” You frowned, trying to figure out this bonkers drama plot of your fake life.

“Get this…” Jaemin paused for dramatic effect. “Your dad is the Director’s secret brother. So your parents are actually your aunt and your uncle.”

“I should’ve thought of that!” You shook your head, laughing.

“A lot of people don’t think you did anything, though,” Renjun assured you. “Seriously, most of the stuff I’m hearing is people being surprised that it hasn’t happened before.”

“That’s good to know.”

“PR is going to have a hell of a time,” Jaemin chuckled.

“Sucks to be Mark Lee right now, huh?” You grinned.

“Oh, I know that man has been sleeping under his desk for the past two weeks.”

You wrinkled your nose. “God, the seventh floor has got to be fucking rank by now. Please tell me Jeno and Donghyuck have at least been making him go home to shower.”

“Chenle did.” Your friends said in unison, making you burst into laughter at the mental image.

“God, I would’ve paid money to see that.” You chuckled. As much as you loved seeing your friends again, this wasn’t where you belonged anymore, and you had skipped lunch in that unnecessarily long interview. So with a sigh, you announced, “Anyway, it was so good to see you guys again, but we need to get going, and I’m sure you have work to finish up.”

“Unfortunately,” Renjun sighed.

“We’ll get drinks—dinner and drinks, the usual place—all four of us,” Jaemin declared as he went in to hug you goodbye. “Okay?”

“For sure,” you agreed with a grin. “You still need to give me my fucking book back, Na Jaemin.”

“He’s just a fucking thief!” Renjun complained as he went to hug you as well. “Bye, Y/N. See you again soon.”

The guys all exchanged a final wave and ‘nice to meet you,’ before your former coworkers headed back. You looked up at Sungchan, about to ask if he was ready to go, and saw him already gazing down at you thoughtfully.

“What?” You asked instead, furrowing your brow.

“Now I get how you could stand working here for five years.” He rubbed your back. “It wasn’t the Factory itself; it was the people you found here.”

“W-Well yeah. I liked my coworkers. But I also liked my job.”

“Yeah, but I like my job too, and I work alone at my studio. I like that. I prefer that. If I had to make small talk with a bunch of different people all day on top of doing my job, I think I’d start biting people,” he explained. “You didn’t just make small talk, you made friends.”

“I guess I’m a people person,” you shrugged, never really thinking about something that was so normal to you. “Is that weird?”

“No, it’s good. Just want to make sure you have people around that you like at your new job too.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “Now come on, if your lunch in there was anything like mine out here, then it was approximately four saltine crackers and some water.”

“Where are we going to eat?” You asked as the two of you headed towards the stairs.

“I live nearby. I want to talk about whatever the fuck that skeeze did in there for seven hours.” His voice was tense again at the mention of the interview. After a beat, he tacked on almost nervously, “If that’s okay. We can go somewhere else if you want.”

You encircled an arm around his waist as the two of emerged into the empty courtyard. “Your place works for me. I agree, we shouldn’t talk about that out in the open.”

Despite Sungchan both picking you up and walking you home from seeing each other many times over the past couple weeks, you had yet to actually be in each other’s homes before. You hadn’t even seen the outside of his place. You knew the general area of where he lived, as he had mentioned it while giving context for some stories he’d told you. The two of you also hadn’t been this… touchy before. Whenever you saw him, it always felt sort of like you were hanging out with a friend, if you ignored the string. You didn’t hug hello or goodbye, didn’t hold hands, nothing other than the little teasing elbow digs. It never occurred to you to really bring it up to him before, that technically, according to Bureau statistics, you two were taking it slow, because that would be a fucking weird thing to say—and also, you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind doing this at whatever pace it happened at.

But now, all of this all at once, it was making you a bit dizzy. In a good way, if that was possible, but still off-kilter.

Sungchan stopped in front of the door to a townhouse in a long row of townhouses, each one with a different, colorfully painted door. His was pistachio green. When he finally opened it up and pulled you in by the hand, you immediately started looking around with eager eyes. He said he hated people looking at his art and making assumptions about him, but he said nothing about his home.

“Kitchen, living room, and laundry room are on the first floor, bedroom and bathroom are on the second,” he told you over his shoulder, taking you through a narrow entryway before emerging into the connected living room and kitchen area. You already knew his studio was at a different location from his home due to the sheer scale of the pieces he made.

His walls were all filled with art, but you immediately figured it wasn’t his. They were drawings, paintings, doodles on napkins, anything and everything. It looked like dozens, maybe even hundreds of different artists in all sorts of styles. Some professional, but most clearly not.

“Everyone who comes to my place has to pay,” he explained. “They owe me a piece of art.” Walking over to the very first wall that your eyes would see upon entering, he pointed to a piece of copy paper with random crayon scribbles on it that was displayed dead in the center. He grinned. “Not even babies are exempt. My nephew.”

“What happens when you fill up your walls?” You asked curiously, following him into the kitchen, which had even more art.

“Guess I’ll have to find a bigger place with bigger walls.” He seemed to be searching for a specific piece, then pointed to a small napkin drawing of seven cartoon heads grinning. “Sohee. Guy said he couldn’t draw then busted that out after some soju. With a pen! I know you haven’t met the other guys, but it looks just like us. Guess which one’s me.”

You hummed thoughtfully, then pointed to a face in the top left.

“Yep!” He beamed proudly, as if it had been his own drawing. He started naming all the other guys in the drawing. “Shotaro, Wonbin, Sohee, Seunghan, Anton, and Eunseok.” Then, he drew your attention to what looked like an invoice for air conditioning repair services, with a pencil sketch of an older woman in the corner of it. “A/C repair guy. Just pulled that out of nowhere. It’s his wife, they met when he went up to her in public saying she was so beautiful he had to draw her. That was before they had their strings. He said he just knew, would’ve known without the string anyway. His art didn’t take off, hence why he was my A/C repair guy.”

“So is it a piece of art every time a person comes over, or just one piece of art, and that’s the toll paid forever?”

“One piece of art per person, debt is cleared forever,” he clarified, opening his fridge to root around in it. “I’ve had some artist friends defer their pieces for future visits because they wanted to make a proper, good piece. You know, put real time into it.”

“It’s good, Sungchan,” you grinned, still looking around at more of the art on the walls. “I love it all.”

“I know, now I don’t have to worry about my furniture matching my décor.”

“Yeah, but it’s also…” You breathed in happily as you tried to figure out how to say it. “You called me a people person earlier. You are too, just in a different way.”

He looked around doubtfully. “You think so? I literally said I would bite people if I had to talk to them. I don’t know if my people skills are really up to par for being labelled a people person.”

“Your entire house is wallpapered in art from just ordinary people that you’ve met. Your friends and family, an A/C repair guy. Call me crazy, but I think you like people.”

“Huh. Never thought of it like that.” He grabbed a few more things from the fridge, then the pantry. “Anton just calls it a weird powerplay, and one time Eunseok said he thought I like ‘asserting my dominance.’”

You laughed, “Maybe you’ve just got weird friends if they think you asking them to make you art is you trying to dominate them.”

“Not going to argue with you there.”

“Can I defer my art to another visit?” You requested. “I mean… I’ll probably be over more than once, right?”

He smiled softly. “Probably. And sure, you can defer. But you’re not getting out of it just because you’re my soulmate. If anything, I think that means you definitely owe me something I can point to when people come over and say, ‘my soulmate made that one.’”

After getting a quick and simple lunch together, you and Sungchan took it to his living room to eat, as he didn’t have a dining table. You sat with your back against the arm of the couch, facing Sungchan as your legs were criss-crossed under you.

You started, “So, what did AD Yang—” “Who?”

“The guy who interviewed us? The man with Ms. Kwon?”

“Oh, the skeeze.”

“Yeah. So what did Mr. Yang—” “Who?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting to keep the amused smile off your lips. “So what did the skeeze ask you? I want to know that first, before we talk about mine. Because like, when I think about the amount of time it took Jeno to walk you up there, introductions, goodbyes, then for Jeno to take you to the waiting room, then come get me… I mean, that whole time was like fifteen minutes. So you probably only talked to them for a few minutes, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was just a bunch of stuff they probably already knew.” He shrugged. “When did I realize I had the string? When did you and I meet? Did I know that you worked at the Factory when we met? When did I learn that you worked at the Factory? Did I know you before the string? Did I know anybody else at the Factory who could have manipulated the match for me? Then… that was it.”

“Makes sense. You didn’t have any ties to the Factory other than me.”

“So what the fuck happened in there that the skeeze thought he needed to take seven fucking hours?”

“I don’t think it would have taken that long, except…” You scratched your head awkwardly. “I’m the one who read our match and submitted the match report.”

Sungchan’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? But how did you not— Don’t you look that stuff up?”

“Reading the matches, and looking up the profiles, it’s all anonymous. It’s not like I saw it and my brain read it as ‘Jung Sungchan and Y/L/N Y/N.’ It was just… sort of like, the impression of profile numbers, I guess? It was like any other match to me, there was nothing special about it to me.” You screwed your face up as you desperately tried to both explain the matchmaking process to someone who had never been near the process at all, and as you tried to recall anything about that specific match at all, which you of course couldn’t. “And the profile numbers when I looked them up, it didn’t show me names or pictures, or any sort of identifying data when I would do that. It’s all completely anonymous, for good reason.” When you opened your eyes again, Sungchan was still staring at you, and your stomach dropped as you realized what you had just said. “Sungchan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that you’re not special, of course you are, but when I would be matching, you’re sort of not yourself and—”

“Woah, woah, sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out and make you worry like that,” he apologized, setting his bowl aside and turning to fully face you. “I was just thinking… How many people get to say that their soulmate was the one who gave them their own red string? Like, that’s so cool.”

“Uh… nobody? We’re probably the only ones.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t matter if it felt special to you in that moment or not. Because it still was. I mean, did it feel special when you decided to stop and look at that book at the bookstore? In the split-second that you made the decision?”

You shook your head. “No, I just, wanted to look at the book.”

“And me running after the Frisbee when Anton missed for like the sixth time that morning didn’t feel special in that second. But both of those things were, because it took both of them happening at the same time for us to meet.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at your food, then up at Sungchan. Setting your bowl aside as well, you then asked, “Is that what a soulmate is, then?”

“What? A Frisbee nearly hitting you in the face?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I mean—Jaemin, Renjun, and I were talking one night, and we were debating about what a soulmate really was. I was in an existential spiral over our red string, they were having a fun little philosophical discussion. They didn’t know about the string yet. We couldn’t decide if a soulmate was just the best that you do, or somebody who would make you better, or infinite second chances.”

“So what do you think a soulmate is now?”

“Someone that makes all the nooks and crannies in your life special, even if they wouldn’t usually be. Just by being there.”

Sungchan absolutely beamed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. I… like that.”

“What do you think a soulmate is?”

“I’ve always figured every pair of soulmates needs something different from each other,” he replied. “And I think you figured out what we need from each other. To make all the nooks and crannies of our lives special just by being there.”

“Okay…” You agreed softly, a fond smile coming to your lips as he offered his hand out, palm out. You set your hand atop his, your chest squeezing your heart at the same time Sungchan squeezed your hand.

“Now… tell me everything that fucking skeeze said. Everything you can remember.”

“Oh my god, Sungchan.”

“You were in there for seven hours, Y/N!”

“He asked me the same one and a half hours of questions like five times. I was going to start biting people by hour three.”

[sungchan: omw :) ]

[you: okey!]

[sungchan: :( ]

[you: okey! :) ]

[sungchan: :) ]

Laughing to yourself at Sungchan’s attachment to emoticons in texts, you grabbed the last few things that you’d need for your date today. It was the last week that his exhibit was available at the museum, and between your hectic schedule of interviews, and phone interviews, and callback interviews for jobs, in addition to his own schedule, this was finally the day that you two had been able to arrange to go together. A few minutes later, your phone lit up again.

[sungchan: outside :) ]

[you: omw down <3 ]

You saw him start typing, but then he stopped, presumably figuring that he’d be able to tell you whatever it was to your face in thirty seconds. Rushing down, you threw open the front door already with a smile that only grew tenfold as you looked up at Sungchan.

“Hi!” You greeted him, locking up behind you before giving him a hug.

“Good morning.” He readjusted your jacket, pulling it more snugly around your collar for you. “You going to be warm enough in that?”

A cold snap had come through last night, dropping the temperature and forcing you to get your fall wardrobe out early. You raised an eyebrow, looping your arm with his to pull him over to the bus stop to wait. “The museum is heated inside, isn’t it?”

“Well yeah…”

“Then I think my biggest problem would be having to carry a heavy jacket around the museum the whole time.”

When the bus arrived, you were just a bit disoriented by there being completely different passengers—after all, it was a different time of day than your previous daily commute, and you and Sungchan went to sit in a different row. You took the window seat, always loving to watch the passing scenery, and to give Sungchan the extra leg room of the aisle. As the bus took off, you squinted, unable to see much through the fogged-up glass. Sungchan reached a hand past you, and you watched with interest as he drew a heart in the condensation on the window. You giggled and took your own pointer finger to the empty space in the heart, carefully tracing out JSC, then your initials, then a plus in the middle, feeling very much like a preteen doodling on your math homework.

When you looked back at him, you saw that his ears were pink, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or not, but he grabbed your right hand with his left, both of your index fingers still a bit chilly from drawing on the window. He rested your linked hands on your lap, and though you couldn’t quite see it from this angle, you knew that the string that connected your pinkies was complete. You leaned your head on his shoulder to look out the window, through the lines made with your little heart.

At the art museum, you excitedly stuck your visitor sticker to your shirt before pulling Sungchan in further by the hand. You looked up at the huge skylight in the main atrium, providing an abundance of natural light on a large abstract sculpture in a bold orange color. “It’s beautiful in here.”

“Have you ever been to this museum?” Sungchan asked curiously as you stopped to watch a cloud pass over the skylight.

“No, I haven’t,” you replied quietly, turning your gaze down to the sculpture in front of you. “I’ve lived here my whole life and it’s one of those places that I’ve always been meaning to go to but, I don’t know, I just haven’t yet.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some places like that,” he said in understanding. “Let’s make a list, both of us. And we’ll cross them off together.”

“Okay, yeah.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “Together.”

Sungchan’s exhibit was in the first gallery past the lobby atrium, and you two had gone at a pretty perfect time for it to be empty of everybody except the docents. You came to a stop as soon as you entered, unsure of where to put your eyes first. When you heard large-scale mixed media collages, you weren’t sure if you had really processed how large ‘large-scale’ was. The gallery was probably fifty meters across, the longest wall being taken up entirely by one single piece. There were only five pieces total in the gallery, one on each wall and one suspended in the middle of the room. You were sure that you could spend hours just looking at one of them.

You decided to start at the one closest to you, and work your way towards the back, where the entrance to the next gallery was. There was a plaque with information about the piece and the artist on it, which you entirely discarded. You commented on things you liked or found interesting as if you were just talking to yourself, not expecting Sungchan to respond at all. And truly, you were just talking to yourself, mostly gasping and muttering all of these things under your breath with delight—after all, you were in a museum, you had to use your inside voice. He’d sometimes chuckle or hum with interest, but that was the extent of him engaging with your commentary, just following you as you slowly trailed down the pieces, then sometimes jumped back to a place that you had already looked over as you made a connection, then went down again. Until you finally made it to the behemoth piece.

Despite being the largest, it had the most fine detail, the smallest individual parts making it up. And that almost felt intentional. Part of you wanted to ask Sungchan that, but you bit your tongue. Instead, you raked your eyes over every square centimeter, drinking in as much as you possibly could. The docent who was standing in the corner switched out while you were looking over that piece, and for a brief second, you wondered if any of the employees had recognized Sungchan. It had never occurred to you that random people on the street would, but in the art museum where he quite literally has an exhibit displaying his art, under his real name… If they did, nobody had made any indication as to such.

Then your attention was sucked back in by the collage in front of you. By the time you were finished, you weren’t sure how much time had passed, only that your feet hurt. You didn’t say anything to Sungchan, only gave his exhibit one more proud look before turning the corner into the next gallery. This one had a dark, heavy curtain dividing it from the rest of the museum, and you immediately knew why. There was a sign at the beginning, the letters lit up so you could read it: ‘The Beauty of Light’

The building’s main overhead lights were completely out, so that the only light provided was from a few along the floor so you could see your step, and the exhibit itself. There were mirrors, glass panes, and colorful lights set up all around the room, refracting all sorts of seemingly impossibly arrays of colors and designs along the surfaces.

“Woah…” You breathed out, reaching out to catch a rainbow on your palm, immediately laughing with wonder.

“It’s interactive,” Sungchan informed you, adjusting the equipment making the rainbow so that there was a whole starburst of rainbows all across you.

“Okay, that’s really fucking cool.” You could feel the huge grin on your face.

“I really didn’t want to see you reacting to my art, actually. I usually hate seeing people looking at my works.”

You looked up at him, confused. “Then why did you want to come with me?”

“I knew they had this exhibit here, and I knew I had to be there when you saw it.” He moved the glass just a bit more, and you weren’t sure where the rainbows had ended up now, but he seemed satisfied as a tender smile came to his lips. “Beautiful.”

“It’s incredible,” you gushed, looking around the room at more of the cool effects being done with lights, then back to Sungchan. You held your hand out towards him, and he walked out from behind the equipment, taking your hand again. Now that he was next to you, some of the rainbows were sticking to his skin and clothes, and you couldn’t help but smile as one caught on his nose.

“Thank you for bearing through the horror of seeing somebody see your art to experience this with me,” you half-teased, swinging your linked hands. Though your words were exaggerated, your sentiment was sincere.

“I said I usually hate seeing people look at my works, but I liked watching you in the exhibit. It didn’t feel like you were performing for me,” he said with a grin. “I could probably watch you watch paint dry.”

“You’re being hyperbolic,” you scoffed.

“I’ve got some paint at my place, want to find out?”

“As thrilling as that sounds, maybe later,” you snorted. “I’m not done with the beauty of light.”

“Hey, no complaints here.” Sungchan ran his thumb over your cheek, still looking down at you with an unbelievable tenderness in his gaze. “Hm…”

“What?” You whispered, your voices suddenly sounding too loud in the empty gallery. The docent had stepped out, and another hadn’t come back in. It was just you and Sungchan in this room.

“Tried to wipe the rainbow off your cheek…”

“Let me guess, didn’t work?”

“Well, it did, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Moved to your mouth.” He traced the bottom line of your bottom lip with the very tip of his thumb, and you felt like you weren’t breathing, waiting for him to do something, anything.

“Sounds like a problem.” You put your hand over his, pushing it to your face so he was cradling your cheek.

Sungchan was smiling as he kissed you, you could feel it in the sweet press of his lips to yours, the soft tilting of your chin up to meet his. You squeezed the hand down by your side even tighter. He broke the kiss as gently as he had started it, still smiling down at you. You suddenly shot up to your tiptoes and wrapped your hand around his neck to pull his head down so you could peck the bridge of his nose, giggling when you had released him and he stood back up with a confused but affectionate look on his face.

“And what was that for?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You had a rainbow on your nose.” You told him very seriously. “We’ve established that you have to kiss them off, obviously.”

“Well in that case—” He proceeded to kiss your forehead, cheek, hair, and mouth again in quick succession.

You were laughing, your entire body buzzing from head to toe as you leaned against him both in a bid just be closer, and also because you felt like your knees might just give out. When you heard footsteps enter the gallery again, you bit your lip to stop your giggles, and Sungchan left you with one more fleeting peck to your temple before standing up straight and bringing you over to the next area of the exhibit.

Groaning and sleepily rolling over onto your back, you were vaguely aware of the fact that you had rolled directly back into someone’s chest, and contentedly snuggled further into your position. An arm snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush to theirs, and you smiled to yourself as you started drifting back off to sleep.

“Y/N?” Came a low rumble of your name from behind you.

You were nearly asleep again, and decided to just pretend you didn’t hear him.

“Baby?” He whispered, a little louder.

“Shh, Sungie,” you hummed. “Still sleeping.”

“Y/N…”

“Sungchan, my love, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

Deciding your discussion was finished, you rolled onto your front again and pushed your face into your pillow. He just followed you to that side of the bed, and you felt the pillow dip as he rested his head on it as well. Sungchan ran a hand up and down your spine, the covers dropping lower with his movements.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to be letting you sleep in today, you lifted your face out of your pillow and propped yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. “What is so important that I can’t sleep in on a Saturday when I don’t have to open?”

“You said you wanted to go to that breakfast place, and it closes in an hour,” he informed you quietly, face reminding you very much of a guilty puppy in that moment.

You looked at the time on his bedside clock, and flopped back down with a groan. “Well it’s too fucking late now. Next week.”

“Sorry, baby.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I would’ve woken you up sooner, but usually you’re the one who wakes me up for this kind of stuff. I just woke up a couple minutes ago.”

“Mm, it’s okay, Sungie,” you sighed and turned onto your back, offering him a sleepy smile to let him know that you weren’t mad at him at all. Now in a particularly lovely and warm patch of sunlight, you couldn’t imagine even getting up to go to the bathroom, much less a restaurant. “I think my sleep schedule from working at the Factory is finally gone. My body isn’t used to getting up for a nine to five anymore.”

“Oh, hold on.” He reached for his phone off the nightstand, and you immediately knew what was coming based on his change in demeanor. With a half-resigned, half-endeared sigh, you threw an arm over your face to hide it as he stood up to start taking pictures of you. He called for you with a slight whine in his voice, “Baby…”

“I have bedhead and morning breath, Sungie.”

“You can’t tell if you have morning breath in a picture.”

“And the bedhead?”

“So? Prettiest bedhead I’ve ever seen.”

“Subject gets to decide if you see her bedhead.”

He was quiet, but his pout was deafening as he continued taking pictures of you laying in the morning sunlight.

“Actually…” There was a curl of a smile in his tone as he plopped back down on the mattress. “I like it. Reminds me of those Baroque statues of Greek goddesses.”

You dropped your arm from your face and shuffled closer to be able to peer at his screen. The similarity of the pose was uncanny, but it also reminded you of something else.

“Or Ophelia…” You snorted.

“She doesn’t have an arm over her face.”

“Yeah but like, the general vibe, you know?”

He laughed, sinking into the pillows to make a few minor edits to the color toning. You settled your head on his chest to mindlessly watch him work, knowing that at least one of these photos would be printed out and added to the wall.

When you had admitted to him one night that you felt a lot of pressure over what piece of art to make him to put on his walls as part of his house rule, he suggested that the two of you make one together. So far all of his guests’ art had been relegated to the first floor, so the walls of his bedroom were entirely blank. Starting in the middle of the largest wall, above the long side of his bed, you two had begun a collage. Adding pictures that you two took of each other, pictures other people took of you two, pictures you took of places that you went on dates together, and any miscellaneous thing from your time that had acquired fond memories and Sungchan could figure out a way to stick to the wall. It had slowly started growing, and sometimes you liked to just lay in bed and look at it. One time you’d asked Sungchan what he was going to do when he moved out of this place, and he’d said cut out that section of wall and take it with him. At the time, you had laughed, but now you weren’t so sure it was a joke. Honestly, they could just put more wall in, right?

“There,” Sungchan murmured with finality, and you heard his portable photo film printer start whirring to life from his desk in the corner.

“Put it up later,” you requested, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face in his neck. “Don’t want you get up…”

“Fine by me.” He hugged you to him tightly, readjusting you so you were practically on top of him. “Are you on the afternoon shift or the closing shift?”

“Ahrin had her sister’s wedding today, so I’m doing afternoon and closing.”

“God, nobody else could take her shift?”

“I needed the money,” you shrugged. “Severance pay is gone and amazingly, part-time bookstore clerk doesn’t pay as well as full-time matchmaker at the Factory did.”

You’d been having a difficult time finding a job since quitting the Factory. Despite companies and organizations seemingly tripping over themselves to want to interview you, it was crickets when it came time to actually follow through after that. Even with your immaculate letter of recommendation from Ms. Kwon. At most of the interviews, you got the distinct impression that they just wanted a chance to meet the Factory employee who “rigged it,” and not actually interview you. After all, who would want such a dishonest and untrustworthy employee at their company. The only place that had offered you a job was your favorite bookstore by the park, which you were more than grateful for.

“I told you, you can live here,” Sungchan reminded you gently.

“I already practically do,” you retorted. “But I still have a lease on my place, and have to pay whether I’m here seven days a week or not.”

“Then why don’t you cut your lease? Isn’t there an early leave payment or something? That has to be cheaper than continuing to pay for the next however many months when you don’t even live there.”

“I—” You swallowed thickly, your voice getting smaller. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I mean that.”

“Me actually moving in?”

“Yes, you actually moving in.”

“Okay.” You beamed into his shirt. “I’ll look into the early leave payment.”

“Send your lease to Jihun to look over,” he suggested, referencing his sister’s husband.

“He’s not a lawyer.”

“No, but he’s got a couple. And he’s good with contracts and haggling. Bet he can get that fee payment cut in half.” You lifted your head, about to argue with asking for favors like that, when Sungchan cupped your jaw and tilted your chin so you were looking right at him. His red string hung in the air just in the corner of your eye. He held your gaze steadily. “It’s what family does, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you murmured, nodding against his hand. “Yeah, family.”

He pulled you forward and up to crash your lips together, his fingers tangling in your hair, and your hands flew to his chest to keep yourself upright. You felt your love for him filling every nook and cranny of your body, and you knew it was something special, because it was yours.

➥ masterlist

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