#...anyway He's basically dropping a brick a day on my head now so I think He's maybe about done indulging me and my tantrums so

[merthosus]

Blank minds

@selfishlittlebeing asked:

Hi! So basically I just read every single one shot on this blog. And I am obsessed with your work. And I gotta admit that, “Wounded nights” did things to me.🧍🏼‍♀️

I’m not sure if I am requesting or smth (if you’d like to write this I wouldn’t protest, but feel free to just ponder on this with me). But like… I can’t get the image of touch starved Five out of my head. Bcs…damn. Him holding the reader in his arms like that (WN)… but can you imagine HIM having a vulnerable moment because of all that stuff with the Commission and apocalypses, just the trauma package yk. And after all those years…just Five being vulnerable with someone and touch starved.🥲 I am making myself feel depressed with all this. Wanna be depressed with me?🎀

Summary: After Luthers wedding, most of the siblings already gone to bed. You didn't feel like drinking, but loved to watch the others drown their sorrows into liquor and just have fun. Just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep, a knock on your door pulls you out of your slumber.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?”

You're up to your nose under your eiderdown, with only the sound of collapsing buildings coming through your window. It may sound crazy to others, but for you, it's been part of everyday life for a week. Counting every second, spending the last time with your family and savoring it. There is nothing more precious than time. Money has no value anymore, but the ticking hands of the grandfather clock do have.

Your thoughts hover over your head like gray clouds. Since the first day you slept in that hotel bed, falling asleep felt like hell. You tried a lot to finally fall asleep normally again. But every time you closed your eyes, you were met with nightmares, worse than you could ever have imagined. You were sure that this couldn't be the end, it simply couldn't be.

Like every night, you try to push the thoughts aside, to repress them as if they had never been there. But a loud and uneven knocking jolts you out of your sleep like a thunderstorm. You startle awake and clutch at the sheets of your bed. “Yes!” you shout, but it sounded more like a question than an encouragement. You watch every movement, sharper than Diego's blades. As Five stumbles in, you let out a breath you didn't even released you were holding. 

“You scared me,” you mumble. "I scared you, so please, why should anyone be scared of me?" he says to himself. Any blind person would have recognized that Five had probably had a little too much to drink at Luther's wedding. Five doesn't finish the sentence and drops his head down as he continues to mumble to himself. After he fell back against the door, you gave him a worried look. “Thanks for closing the door, but I think you have a concussion now,” I smirk to myself. Five starts to giggle. “The world is coming to an end,” he says, and pushes away from the door again.

You look out of the window that separated you from the crumbling outside world. Instead of bright sunshine, dark red fire dazzles your eyes, bricks fly off buildings and trees uproot themselves. “No, really?” you ask him sarcastically as you turn back to him. You suppress your horror as he suddenly stands right in front of you. He holds on to the edge of your bed. You think about how he managed to approach you so quietly, the alcohol in his blood must be enough to put a chimpanzee down.

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?” he asks as he tries to climb onto the bed. “Five, eh?” you ask as you hold him down so he doesn't slide off. He awkwardly pushes himself over your legs, which elicits a small squeak from your mouth. “You're really rough, Five,” you complain, but you just couldn't help the smile on your face.

You had never seen Five so shameless. Five, who is usually so strong and independent, asks you if he can lie down with you for a moment. As you think about it for a moment, you briefly doubt your sanity. Was this a fever dream? But Five's careless hand movement presses your torso so hard into the mattress beneath you that you're sure it would have shaken you awake. “I've never seen you so awkward,” you squeeze your words out of the pain. “I'm sorry, but your bed is sooo soft,” he lulls to himself. You shake your head and stifle the comment that the beds here were all the same.

“Five, why are you really here?” you ask him. He lies down on his stomach and presses his head into your pillow. He mumbles his words into the fabric so that you can only guess what he's saying. “I don't understand a word, you stupid…” you grumble to yourself as you grab a tuft of his hair and push his head to the side. 

Five groans softly as you move his head, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. You wait for him to speak, but it seems like he’s struggling to find the right words. He’s always been the one with the sharp tongue, the quick wit, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and slightly lost—pulls at something deep inside you.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally mutters, his voice slurred but honest. “I’ve been alone for so long... and I guess I’m tired of it.” His words are a confession, raw and unguarded, much like the state he's in now. You’ve seen Five in many situations—fighting, strategizing, leading—but this is different. This is Five without his armor, without the walls he usually keeps so firmly in place.

You feel a pang in your chest, a mix of sadness and empathy. You’ve always known there was more to him than the ruthless time-traveling assassin he often portrayed himself to be. But hearing him admit his loneliness is something else entirely. "I understand you, Five," you say. He smiles and sightly closes his eyes. "I didn't want to be alone too, so I am happy that you are here now, I would've preferred sober Five, but this is also ok", you smile at him. 

You let your body fall back into your pillows, Five, who was still lying on his stomach, watching you. You put your head to one side and just look at him motionlessly. “Promise you won't tell anyone about the following?” he asks you. You don't understand exactly what he means. “I hardly think I have enough time left to tell anyone anything,” you say, with an unintentional sweep of sadness. “Promise” he whispers to you, while looking at you with begging eyes. Not only the pungent smell of alcohol, but also his seriousness to fly in your face. “I won't tell anyone,” you promise. Without warning, Five starts to move again. He pushed your arm up and curled up on your chest, like a cat looking for warmth.

Seeing five like this was new and made you very afraid to admit it to yourself. He cared so much about maintaining his strong, unbreakable personality that his current behavior frightened you. Despite the unfamiliar feeling of five so close to you, you almost automatically put your arms around his slender torso. His fingers slide onto the sides of your torso, clutching on it as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Five, what's wrong?", you ask him. "I am fucking scared", he lulls. His confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. You can feel your heart rate quicken, the tension in the room shifting as you process his words. It’s a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Five’s mind, and the openness is both unsettling and intimate.

“Scared of what exactly?” you ask gently. “Everything,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “The end of it all… the not knowing". The tremor in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but tighten your hold on him. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the truth is you’re scared too. The world outside is crumbling, and the future feels uncertain for both of you. 

He shifts slightly, looking up at you with his tired eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Not you, not the others. I’ve messed up so many times already.” His voice is tinged with a mix of regret and fear, and you can see the conflict waging within him. “If we lose, at least we'll lose together,” you say. It didn't really sound encouraging, but you couldn't think of anything better. “Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?” you whisper without looking at him. 

Five’s grip on your chest tightens just a little, and you can feel the slight shivering in his body as he processes your words. The silence that follows feels heavy, filled with the weight of the world outside and the vulnerability between you. “No,” he finally murmurs, his voice soft but resolute. “I won’t regret this. I might not remember every detail of tonight, but I’ll remember the way it felt to finally....", you wait for him to end his sentence. 

"feel you", he says, so quietly that you almost missed it.. There is a silence in the room, your body is no longer able to move. Your brain needs some time to process his words. “I went too far, I'm sorry I…” he tries to apologize. He pushes away from your body and leans on his arms. But before he can finish his sentence and move away from you completely, you put your hands around his face and crash your lips into his. 

The moment your lips meet Five’s, time seems to suspend itself. The world outside, with its crumbling chaos, fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. His initial shock quickly melts away, and he responds with a tentative but heartfelt kiss. His lips are soft and warm, and the urgency in his movements gradually transforms into something more tender and searching.

As you pull away slightly, you can see the surprise in his eyes, mingled with a hint of relief and something deeper that he might not fully understand himself. You’re both breathing heavily, the gravity of the moment settling in. “I didn’t want to...,” Five starts to say, but you place a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

“You don’t have to apologize. Not now. Not ever.” Five’s expression softens, and he looks at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to control everything, in fighting against the end, that I forgot about what really matters. I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize how much I needed this, how much I needed you.”

Feel free to tell me in the comments, what you think :)

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 84... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

JESUS CHRIST!!! 😱 THIS CHAPTER WAS INSANE AS WELL...! 😵

(How do you keep on doing it Endo?! 😵)

But, before I start discussing this chapter, I'd like to say something about what happened in the fandom recently...

If anyone here is unaware, an account by the name of shinybluebirdwizard deactivated their account after being harassed for answering an ask about who they thought Anya loved more... Thinking back on the post, to me it felt like shinybluebirdwizard's answer was more of a joke then anything super serious, but we'll never really know for sure... As of right now, my biggest hope is that Shiny is doing alright and will one day return to the fandom... But, I also completely understand if they decide that they don't want to ever come back either... All I can truly ask for now from this fandom is to be kinder to one another and not be at each other's throats for a difference of opinion...

...

Anyway, let's get back to the review shall we...?

We start where we basically left of at in Mission 83, with Wheeler cornered by Nightfall and another agent...!

Wheeler tries to convince Nightfall to let him go and that he doesn't have the documents, but of course, it doesn't work and the other agent subdues Wheeler and finds the documents...! Wheeler tries one more time to persuade Nightfall in letting him go, but she knows that he may have the documents memorized, so Wheeler will be imprisoned... But then...:

WHEELER ESCAPES FROM THE OTHER AGENT'S CLUTCHES AND NOW THAT AGENT IS HIS HOSTAGE!! 😱

Wheeler tells Nightfall to drop her gun or he'll break the other agent's neck, then exchange happens between Wheeler and Nightfall:

Damn...! 😲 Does anyone else feel like Wheeler was being a little flirty with Nightfall...? 👀 No? Just me...? Okay... 🤷

Anyway, Wheeler escapes into the sewers and Nightfall goes to pursue him...! Then, um... Nightfall has this thought of if she were to ever die, and well...:

Oh, Nightfall... 😌 No words can describe the amount of crazy you are...! 😏

After... THAT...! We catch back up with Twilight after his brutal fight with Yuri...:

Twilight tries to get out of the sewers, but he overhears some footsteps and decides to be cautious... But then, the footsteps stop, and Twilight is unsure of where they were coming from... When suddenly...

WHEELER APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND ALMOST BASHES TWILIGHT'S HEAD IN WITH A BRICK!!! 😱 (Twilight was able to dodge it, BUT STILL!! 😵)

After Wheeler's initial attack, Twilight tries to convince him that he's with the SSS...

...But it doesn't work...

Then, Wheeler figures out that this must be Twilight in disguise and says this to him:

We cut back to Nightfall as she hears some fighting in the sewers, but when she finds where it's coming from, she sees this: 😰

As Nightfall is shocked and stunned by what she sees, Wheeler proceeds to remove Twilight's mask, when...:

NIGHTFALL GOES COMPLETELY BERSERK!!! 😱

and that's how the chapter ends, and HOO BOY...!! That chapter was INTENSE!! 😰 Especially at the end...!! 😥 And I know that this arc isn't over with just yet, but... I think that this might my new favorite arc of the series...!! 😆

HOW ARE YOU THIS GOOD ENDO!!? 👏😆

The only thing that kind of confused me in this chapter was the part Nightfall was like: "No no no, that's Yuri Briar. He's no friend of mine!" and started saying "That's Yuri Briar" over and over again... I believe that was her starting realize that was Twilight on the ground defeated, but I don't know for sure...! 🤷 In any case, this chapter was still amazing and I'm eagerly awaiting for the next one to drop...!! 😆

Lastly, I'm sorry to anyone that just came here to read my review, but it was very important to me to talk about what happened to shinybluebirdwizard...

I was raised to treat others how I wanted to be treated, so whenever I see how mean people can be sometimes, it truly breaks my heart... We don't have to agree on everything, but we can at least try to be respectful to someone else's opinion... And if that means not interacting with them at all, then by all means, avoid them at all costs... But the one thing that I wish for the most is for everyone to be more kind and understanding of one another...! And then maybe, something like this won't again...

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say and I hope that you all have a wonderful rest of y'alls day...! Take care, be safe out there and be kinder to one another...! 💗 Later...! 👋

[callsign-bunnie]

Reporting in for the Aledolfo fic 🫡

(Fair warning, this is mostly unedited but I could copy paste it so I will and then this will be my last post of the day! Anything in quotation marks and italicized it Ghost speaking Ex: "This is Ghost, do you copy?"

“That was very stupid, Ghost,” Graves called. Ghost quickly cloaked, retreating. He was not sticking around to find out what Graves planned to do.

Soap stumbled to the edge of a building, leaning back against it. He needed to get these fucking bullets out of his arm so he could use his ability but… He didn’t have the fucking time! He slid down the wall, messing with his radio.

Sending transpo to your location for all prisoners-

Send reinforcements to-

He stopped, finding their channel. “This is Bravo Firecracker in the blind, do you copy?” He paused, listening. Nothing. “Ghost, this is Firecracker, do you copy?”

Again, nothing. Damnit! He hit his head back against the brick wall, closing his eyes.

“Ghost, where are you?”

Ghost panted as he cooped up in the church he was hiding in. The shadows had other spirits, and he’d barely made it out without being caught. He turned his radio on, sitting up immediately when he heard Soap’s voice. “Soap, this is Ghost, do you copy?”

He expected to hear Soap back immediately, but there was only silence. Fuck, how much could happen in a minute?? “Johnny?? Johnny, how copy?” He put urgency in his voice so Soap knew to answer, now.

“Solid.” Soap winced, having hit the ground rather hard. He coughed a little and finally dragged himself to his feet, holding his arm. 

“Thought we’d lost you.” Soap shook his head, moving to the car and using it to steady himself. “You injured?”

“Yeah, two blocker bullets. But, I’ll survive.”

“That’s why you couldn’t blow anything up.”

Soap looked around the street before starting to limp down the road. “Yeah, basically.” He sighed and leaned on a building for stability, needing to pause.

“You’re going to have to improvise, Johnny. Not just because of the blocker bullets but any explosion will bring attention back to you. You need to be covert.”

“Got it.” Soap sighed and straightened back up. He needed to keep going. He frowned, listening to gunfire and screams in the distance. “There’s some fucking shadows going through a killing spree.”

“Can you see them? Are they Magi or Giftless?”

Soap dragged himself down the alley, crouching down behind a car, ignoring the way that made his leg scream in pain. He looked over the car, seeing the Shadows there. Two of them had blood drop symbols on their backs, but the other four had none. “Two blood boilers, but the rest are Giftless.”

“As long as there are no prism symbols, you should be fine. They won’t be able to feel you. But remember, healers can feel your injuries. They can be just as dangerous, Soap.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Where are you, anyway?” Soap stayed crouched and crept down a side alley that was attached to the current one.

“An old church. They have Spirits so I can’t cloak.”

“So much for no man left behind, eh? Thought I was dead, LT?” Soap laughed, unable to help the bitterness in his voice. Ghost was sitting cozy in some church while he was dragging himself around, half dead.

“I usually work alone, Johnny.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Soap shook his head.

“Look, lets just work on getting you out of here. We can talk about this when you’re not on the street.”

Soap didn’t think they would talk about it. But, he didn’t fight it. “Fine.”

“Where are you?”

“Near a house. It has an um… arch around the door.” Soap ducked under the arch, ignoring two dead bodies on the floor.

“Impressive attention to detail, Johnny. You’re in Mexico.”

“My bad. There’s a bluebird on the door sign.” Soap rolled his eyes, staying low, and then tried the door. It was locked. “The door is locked.”

“Find something to pick it.” There was silence for a moment and then a heavy sigh. “Welcome to guerilla warfare, Johnny.”

Soap frowned deeply. He shook his head again and looked around. After a moment he went to the door on the other side of the entrance. “Nevermind, LT,” he said as it clicked open. “The other door was open.”

“Good. What do you see?”

“There’s um… fuck.” Soap winced, seeing a dead body on the ground, bound by it’s arms and feet. Blisters patterned up and down it’s arms and legs. “Poor bastard…” He whispered. “A dead body that’s been bound.”

“I’d kill for Price or Rodolfo to be here right now so I could feel through this whole town. Take the rope, and keep moving.”

“Why can’t you just poof? Can you and other Spirits see each other?” Soap frowned. “Also, I doubt Price’d be much help. And Rodolfo is too connected to Alejandro. Plus, you’d be fighting for two, not one.” Soap huffed, snapping off a fan blade. “I broke off a blade of a fan.”

“Use the rope and make a pry tool, use it to pry open the door. You don’t put much faith in Prisms, do you?”

Soap rolled his eyes. “Have you done this before? You know how to break into houses a concerning amount.”

“Years of practice, Johnny. You didn’t answer my question.”

Soap sighed softly, making sure the coast was clear before crossing to the other door. “I think they’re fine but I’ve not met one that can actually fight decently. They have to rely on others because all their gift does is supplement others. Like mirrors. All they do is steal other’s gifts.”

“Says the man unable to use his gift because of two bullets. The fact is, we’re all vulnerable in some way, Johnny. You can’t fault anyone for the gift they were born with.” Ghost sounded amused.

Soap winced. Ghost was right, he supposed he was being unfair. “Still. Rodolfo is defenseless without Alejandro.”

“I wouldn’t call him defenseless. I’ve seen his file. He may not have gifts, but he’s got skills. He’s not any more defenseless than Price, Soap.”

Soap jolted when he heard a small explosion, ducking behind the car again. “I think they’ve brought out some fucking Firecrackers!”

“I heard. They’re small explosions from what I can tell. Just keep moving, don’t stop.”

Soap shook his head. He pried the door open and quickly started to search around. “Why do you defend Prisms so much? You’re the first to call useless people what they are. Useless.”

“So you do think they’re useless.” Soap rolled his eyes at Ghost’s chuckle.

“I do not think they’re useless.” Soap sighed. “Just… don’t want to have to drag one around.”

“Well, all you have to do is drag yourself around, Soap. So, just focus on that.”

“Another thing we’ll discuss later?” Soap laughed, softly. He crouched under a table, hearing Graves talking to a family.

“Maybe. I doubt it.”

Soap shook his head and continued to travel, picking up what supplies he could. “Graves just took some kids. Fucking Nonce.”

“You should see it from my view. Absolute carnage.”

“Thought you’d be into that.”

“Not quite. Where are you, now?”

Soap sighed. “Same house, gathering supplies. About to leave, now.”

“I think I know where you are. There’s a fire escape upstairs. There should be no shadows in that alley. Take the fire escape down and go left.”

Soap nodded and went up the stairs, staggering a little at the three dead bodies in his path. “Fuck. Graves is killing everyone in his path.”

“War crimes.”

“Makes me want to commit my own fucking war crimes.”

“It’s Tyranny. It won’t stand.”

“Think we’ll get the green light to take these assholes down?” Soap asked, breaking into a bathroom and getting the first aid supplies. “I found first aid.”

“There’s no more greenlights. We’re on our own. Stop in the fire escape and bandage yourself.”

Soap ducked down at another explosion noise. “Fucking Firecrackers. I don’t understand how they get off on this.” He sighed and went onto the fire escape. “What about Alejandro?”

“You can trust him, but he’s without his pair and in Graves’ custody. If he’s even alive at this point. I’m still not quite sure what that bonding does for them. Killing Parra could have killed him.”

“If he’s alive, he’s on our side. Él es nuestro hermano. You think Rodolfo is dead?” Soap frowned. He didn’t think much of the Prism but he knew that Alejandro wouldn’t take that well. 

“Last I saw him, he was bleeding out next to the truck. I don’t think Graves kept him alive.”

“Fuck. Alejandro won’t take that well.” Soap sighed, shaking his head as he started to dress his wounds.

“Don’t rely too much on seeing him again. Graves will turn his mind or execute him. Remember, Johnny. People you know will hurt you the most.”

“Good advice, LT. I want to be like you when I grow up one day.” Soap sighed, finally finishing wrapping both wounds tightly.

“You want to be better than me, Johnny.”

“Think I’ll live that long?” Soap joked, taking himself down the ladder of the fire escape.

“Probably not.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, LT.” Soap sighed, able to limp less with his wound having pressure on it. “I go left, and then where do I go?”

“Just go straight. Again, don’t stop, Johnny.”

“You know, I’d have thought a Spirit would get reliant on poofing to get around. How come you don’t?” Soap asked, dragging himself down the alley.

“Cloaking, Johnny. You don’t know a lot about Spirits, do you?”

“You’re the first I’ve ever met.” Soap quickly ducked behind a corner as he heard two Shadows coming up the alley. “Fuck. Metal minders. One has a secondary torch on his back.” He said as he saw their insignias. 

“Are you close to any bins or cars?”

Soap looked around. “No. Just brick and stone.”

“They won’t feel you, then. Just don’t touch anything metal. They will be spreading out their energy, trying to feel for it.”

“Got it, LT.” Soap was careful not to touch anything, sinking into the darkness and watching them pass before quickly ducking around them and going the same direction he had been, but hearing their conversation. “They’re looking for you and I.”

“Did you pass them?”

“Yes, I’m already down the alleyway.”

“Find the coffee shop. It should be that way.”

Soap nodded. “Got it.” He started to look around as he traveled. He stopped again behind a car, hearing Graves talking. He was using shitty spanish. Soap winced, seeing him talk to a cop, and then the cop shot themself. “Fuck. He’s tearing up cops. Using that suicide thing he does.”

“He’s judge jury and executioner now. Keep moving. Don’t get close to him. Don’t want you offing yourself on me, now.”

Soap quickly moved on. When he saw an open door, he ducked in, jumping back as he almost hit a dog cage. “There’s a caged dog in this house.”

“Shoot it if it barks. Don’t compromise your location.”

“You are heartless,” Soap half smiled, but didn’t touch the dog, grabbing whatever supplies he could.

“What has two legs and bleeds?”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Half a dog.”

“I said not to tell me.”

“I know what house you’re in. Go to the one next door.”

“Got it, LT.” Soap did as told, having to duck around a Shadow passing by. He could feel static raise the hair on the back of his neck. Fucking Insolators. He stopped when he saw a knife sticking out of a dead shadow on the ground. “Ghost. You missing a knife?”

“Several.”

“Found one. Has your little skull on the end of it.” Soap grinned, yanking it out of their neck and shoving them to the side. “Was a spirit, too. Black blood.” Soap sighed, a little surprised.

“I don’t know how Graves has so many. But they’re fucking everywhere.”

“So you guys can see each other when you’re poofed?” Soap asked, chuckling. “You learn something new every day.”

“We can. It’s… different from the way Prisms can sense other Magi and Healers can feel wounds. The way Graves can sense your mind. Our vision changes when we’re cloaked. Other Spirits who are cloaked are… shiny.”

“You mentioned before that you can see Magi’s energies when cloaked. Is it like that?” Soap frowned, curious. He sniffed the air, picking up gunpowder. He grinned and looked in a toolbox, finding it. Merry Christmas. He built a quick bomb. Not only could he blow stuff up with his own energy, most Firecrackers were trained in the art of making bombs. “I made a mine.”

“Of course you did. And yes. It is fairly similar. Probably has to do with it.”

“I’m a firecracker, this is my job.” Soap grinned. Now he was more comfortable. He stopped as he saw more bodies as he exited into the alley. However, mingled among them were shadows. “Lots of Dead shadows.”

“Most are my handiwork. Collect my knives for me.”

Soap did as asked, also looting them for whatever he needed. “Got a gun off one. Surprised you didn’t take it, LT.”

“Guns are pure metal, Soap. They’d overload my mind. No, I needed to stay clear headed.”

Soap frowned. He supposed he hadn’t thought of that. “Alright.” He checked the gun for bullets, sighing as he only found a few. He touched one of the knives, almost shivering at the sensation it gave. “Hey, LT, your knives feel funny.”

“Yeah, they’re made just for me. I can connect with them. If you grab enough of them, I’ll be able to feel your presence. Hence why you’re collecting them.”

“Interesting.” Soap shrugged, continuing to move on. “So are they like made with your blood or something?”

“Something.”

“I take it it’s not a process I want to be privvy to?”

“No, you don’t.”

Soap went silent, having to duck around more shadows. He rolled into a doorway as he was suddenly shot at, shooting back and taking them down quickly. “A Shadow spotted me.”

“Don’t waste bullets, Johnny. And don’t make too much noise. Graves already knows I’m in the city, we don’t want him knowing you are.”

Soap stopped, listening to the radio on the Shadow he took down. “Mactavish will be in the city. He is incapacitated and unable to use his gifts. Shoot to kill.”

“Yeah, about that. He already knows.”

“Bloody fantastic.”

Soap went silent again, noticing it start to rain. He quickly continued through the streets, sticking to the shadows and back alleys. When he had to stop again as his leg was screaming in pain, he held his hand up, feeling the rain. “It’s pishing it down out here.”

“English, Mactavish.”

Soap rolled his eyes. “It’s raining fucking hard.”

“Why not just say that?”

“I did.” Soap shook his head, taking a breath and continuing.

“Rain is good. It’ll cover your tracks.”

“And theirs.” Soap frowned, breaking into another house to find supplies.

“Just focus on staying alive, Johnny.”

“So you do like me, LT.” Soap half grinned to himself, picking up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and dumping it on his shoulder, biting his fist. He frowned, noticing a half cracked door across the alley when he looked out the window. He could pick up the scent of gunpowder again and ducked down, crossing to it.

“I like you alive.”

“Hell’s fucking bells…” Soap grinned as he slightly pushed open the door, seeing a string. He followed it up and whistled, seeing the shotgun pointed right at him. “I take it back. I guess the Giftless can protect themselves.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a shotgun trap. I’m getting the shotgun right now.” Soap laughed, going around the house and breaking a window to get in.

“Leave it to a firecracker to find a shotgun. Open hearts and minds with it, Johnny. You really are back in your element.”

“Bastards won’t even know what hit them.”

“Remember, metal minders can still feel it, so be careful. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Soap grinned. “Me? Stupid. Nah.”

“My bad. Impulsive. You don’t have to worry about randomly blowing anything up but I know you. Don’t let those impulses get the better of you.”

“Never.” Soap sighed and got going again. “Why is Graves doing all of this?”

“I don’t know, Johnny. But he’s burning the midnight oil to find us.”

“Shepherd has to have something to do with this.” Soap grunted. “There’s no way he doesn’t. Hey, I think I see that cafe, finally.” Soap perked up when he saw the sign, rushing to it. He slowed as he passed another body, it’s face engorged with blisters and boils. “Those fuckin Blood Boilers are sick.”

“You have no idea.”

Soap hesitated and then ducked into the garage the body was laying in front of. He found a toolbox and cracked it open, cursing as the pry tool snapped in half. Fuck. But, the box had opened. Fortunately, he found another sheet of metal to make another. Then, he whistled as he found a box of needles and a bottle. Adrenaline. “Ghost, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“Try me.”

“This civilian has a box of adrenaline in his tool box. Fucking hell. Not a lot of it left but I could fill these needles. They should help me work past the blocker bullets, right?”

“They should, but be careful. You could burn yourself out. You know what happens to Firecrackers who burn out, right?”

Soap winced, tugging at his collar a little. “Yeah, I’ve seen it.” They basically liquidate their insides. Explode from the inside. Same thing could happen to Insulators and Torches. “I’ll only take it when I need it, then.”

“Good. Keep moving.”

Soap shook his head, grabbing a knife out of another dead shadow that he passed.

“You pick up another knife, Johnny?”

“Yeah, could you feel it?” Soap blinked.

“I can feel where you are. You’re not too far from me.”

“What else can you feel with them, LT?” Soap half grinned, being cheeky. He finally made it to the cafe, pushing in.

“Don’t get cheeky, Johnny.”

“I would never. I’m in the coffee shop.” Soap took a moment to breathe, holding his thigh. “I need a moment, Ghost.”

“Get us a tea while you’re in there.”

“Fuckin Brits.” Soap rolled his eyes, sitting in a chair for a moment to rewrap his leg with what he had left of the bandaging.

“Where are your wounds, Johnny?”

“My shoulder and my leg. But they’re fine. Just… you know.. Have to walk on them.” Soap sighed.

“I knew Shepherd should have sent us with a healer.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that would help us now.” Soap snorted. “You know, you’re gonna owe me for this.” He chuckled as he stood, dragging himself through the coffee shop. He stopped in the kitchen, raiding the first aid kit in there.

“Owe you for what?”

“We’re fixing each other’s problems.” Soap grinned. He broke into the manager’s office. He hesitated at seeing a safe. He got out a syringe and the bottle of adrenaline. He took a very small amount and injected himself, wincing at the burn it forced through his body. His heart raced immediately and Soap focused on the safe. He clicked his fingers and Boom. He panted as the burn leaked from his body. Fuck. That hadn’t taken much to burn off that adrenaline.

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask,” Soap grunted as he pried open the safe. Thankfully, there was more adrenaline, this time in their own pre-equipped needles. “Take it off,” he finished.

“Show my face?”

“Affirmative.” Soap stood and went to leave again. He had to admit he was very curious to see what Ghost looked like. Most spirits covered head to toe but Ghost was different. He never took his off, even inside where the Sun wasn’t a risk.

“Negative.”

Soap frowned and then huffed a little. “Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

Soap rolled his eyes at the amusement in Ghost’s tone. “I doubt that. I found more adrenaline packs.”

“Good. You’re gonna need your gift in a bit. You’re gonna need to blow up a gate to a tunnel. I know where you’re at. It’ll lead straight to the church.”

Soap grinned. He continued to travel, now able to see the church in the distance. He shot any shadow that got in his way, and took any knives from those already dead.

Then, the worst happened. He ran out of shotgun shells while being cornered. “It’s not too late to surrender, soldier.” The Shadow taunted him. Soap cringed at the brain on their chest. He hoped they weren’t like Valeria. Just in case, he got out an adrenaline shot, stabbing himself with it and tensing at the burn.

They confirmed they in fact were when pain shot through his arm. He cried out and threw his head back, gritting his teeth. Fuck! He started to gather up a charge.

“Throw a knife, Johnny! I can guide it a little. Can you throw them?”

“Of course I can fucking throw a knife!” Soap cursed and tried to ignore the pain as it increased, the Shadow getting closer.

He got out a knife and threw it, landing it right in their throat before jolting up as they… exploded. But not how they normally did when he blew them up. It looked closer to what Ghost did when he poofed. The pain in his arm immediately stopped and the burn from the adrenaline left his body. “What the fuck? Ghost, your knife it just… exploded the Shadow. Like you do when you have to poof.”

“Was he a Spirit?”

“No, he was a Mind Worker. How long have you been able to do that with your knives?” Soap frowned, deeply.

“I can’t.”

Soap didn’t like that idea. “Do you think I did that, LT? I took adrenaline before to gather a charge.”

“I think we should keep our minds open.”

“You don’t think we… paired or anything, do ya?” Soap scrambled to his feet. He was uncomfortable with that idea. “Like Alejandro and Rodolfo?”

“I doubt it. Alejandro said the process was intensive. I doubt it’s something you can do by accident.”

Soap frowned. He wasn’t entirely convinced but he dropped it. “Do you think I could do it with other knives?”

“Try it. There’s a dead shadow near you, isn’t there?”

“Well, the Mind Worker is just gone, but yes, there is.” He went to one he’d shot, rummaging their body and then pulling out a knife. “Got it.”

“Next Shadow you see, take adrenaline and try it.”

“Affirmative.” Soap nodded and then continued on his way. He managed to avoid most shadows but eventually came up on one. He did as Ghost said, sticking himself with a prepared needle. When they got close enough, he again threw the knife at them, getting their arm and then… nothing. 

He cursed and clicked his fingers, blowing them up, anyway. “Nothing. I think it’s just your knives.”

“I doubt there’s gonna be another Spirit with a metal minder secondary out to test theirs.”

“Exactly. Am I near the tunnel?”

“Thankfully no, so you have a chance to wear off that adrenaline.”

Soap rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. His heart was not happy with the frequent injections. 

He frowned as he saw the tunnel entrance from a distance. It was surrounded by Shadows. “Shadows are everywhere.”

“Find a candle and some cleaner. Make a smoke bomb.”

Soap grinned, liking the chance to use any kind of bomb. He quickly ducked into a house nearby and looked around. Fortunately, he found the items rather quickly, and some cloth and a container. He put it all together, making the bomb. When he was done, he tossed it to the middle of the street, watching everyone immediately start to cough.

When Soap was sure he wouldn’t be seen, he ran through and dove into the tunnel.

He gasped as he hit the cold water, cursing. “Fuck.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot to tell you. The tunnel is flooded.”

“Bastard.” Soap muttered, wading through it. “It smells bad enough that I doubt anyone’s gonna be able to smell the gunpowder.” Soap frowned as he came up to the door of iron bars blocking his access to the tunnel. Ghost must have poofed through.

“They’ll still hunt you down. Like a fox run.”

“So you hunt? Do you hunt with the mask on?” Soap rolled his eyes, getting out an adrenaline syringe and sticking himself. He wasted no time in blowing up the door, wincing at the sound it caused.

“Naturally. The camo version.”

“I bet you sleep in that thing.” Soap laughed, quickly continuing through.

“Soundly.”

“You’re fucking crazy, LT.” Soap stuck to the side of the tunnel.

“If only you knew, Johnny.”

Soap frowned but continued on his way, having to swim occasionally.

They were both silent as he got through it, with little to no incident. When he made it out the other side, he yanked himself out, panting a little. “Fuck. I need another minute.”

“You can’t. We’re nearing the end of the night. Just get to the church. Don’t stop.”

Soap squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth before continuing on, trying to keep from limping. He ran into very few shadows, and grabbed what supplies he could as he ran.

Soap went through a house, frowning as the front door was locked. He pried it open before being slammed back by a Shadow. “Commander Graves, I got one.”

“Soap! What happened?” 

Soap didn’t answer, trying to move backwards and get up, but he was kicked down again.

He desperately felt around for a syringe, but was stopped by the shadow falling over, shot in the back of the head. More were coming over so he didn’t waste time getting to his feet and sprinting to the church, ducking around bullets. “Was that you, Ghost?”

“Yes. Don’t stop, keep running.”

“When did you pick up a bloody sniper rifle?” Soap dove behind a car, getting out one of the mines he had maid and chucking it out, blowing up a whole crew of shadows. Fuck. He was still surrounded. “Hey, exactly how much adrenaline can I take before I burn out?”

“Johnny, don’t tell me you’re thinking-”

“It’s my only shot, LT. I need a lot to do a Sonic Boom and I’m gonna need a fuck ton of adrenaline.”

“Fuck. Three syringes.”

Soap wasted no time, practically stabbing himself with all three of them at once. He felt like he was being lit on fire. 

“Christ, Soap. You’re fucking glowing. I can see it from here.”

“Shit.” Soap stood and faced the direction of the church where a bunch of shadows were rounding on him. He threw his hands out and then slammed them together. The sound made the earth shake and he only could imagine what he could have done on three needles and no Blocker bullets. It tore through the shadows, flattening the ones at the front.

“Bloody brilliant, Soap. Now go! Use what’s left of the adrenaline to get here.”

Soap did not waste time to look over what he’d done, sprinting to the church.

Ghost was already at the gate when Soap reached it, climbing over gracefully and then they sprinted to a car, getting in. “You made it.” Ghost looked at Soap.

“We made it, LT.” Soap corrected, panting, before ducking as they were shot at again. Ghost handed him a gun and then started to drive. Soap didn’t bother to question why Ghost had lied, just shooting at whoever was necessary. Finally. He was out of that hellhole.

Rodolfo dragged himself up to the rafters, panting. Using Ghost had healed him, certainly, but not all the way. And it had exhausted him. Fortunately, Ghost had seemed no worse for wear. Cloaked himself, immediately.

Dealing with this was going to be a pain. He hit his head back against the wall of the safehouse. He should have followed Graves, tried to find Alejandro. No, that was stupid. Graves would have killed Alejandro if he wanted him dead. But Rodolfo was expendable.

Deep breaths. He breathed in and out, cursing at the ache in his side. It’d mostly healed him but… the pain still lingered. Fucking Spirits. How they lived like that was beyond him. Being cloaked had been a nightmare. He was never doing that again. 

He still felt detached from his body and the ability had already left. He needed to get through this. Figure out his next move. After he regained some strength, though.

[aclosetfan]

Wrote something kind of meta that deals with basically identical counterparts dating basically identical counterparts and how awkward that must actually be. Considering the fact that most people skip over it, I just decided to address it head on. Anyway, summary time:

Boomer’s secret girlfriend was pretty secret up until about a day ago. So, now, it’s up to Boomer and his trusty soundboard, Butch, to figure out how many lines he crossed when he got caught making out with one of their counterparts.

Brick was ignoring him, which was impressive because Boomer had made himself completely unignorable. He talked ceaselessly without end. He sang off key. He hogged the bathroom. He ate Brick’s leftovers. He had barged into Brick’s bedroom early in the morning, flipped him out of bed, and made sure he knew he was there, loud and annoying, and still, Brick wouldn’t talk to him. Or yell. Or grumble. Or sigh. Or even so much as look in his direction. Nothing.

Brick just kept on ignoring him, like he wasn’t there.

When the three of them were younger—they had been kids, for sure, but when exactly, Boomer didn’t know—Butch and Brick had pretended he was invisible for one miserable hour before he broke down sobbing, forcing them to crack. For a moment, he thought, maybe it would be like that. An hour of cold shoulder then right back to:

“For fucks sakes, Boomer, shut up!”

But that didn’t happen. And Boomer was dangerously close to crying just so he could get his way again.

“Butch!” He whined, floating miserably into the kitchen.

“Sup, traitor,” Butch hummed, sandwich in one hand, phone in the other.

“He’s still not talking to me.”

“Really?” Butch’s jaw dropped, but his eyes didn’t leave his phone, “Bricks’s not talking—oh my gosh! Maybe it’s cause you’re a traitor!?”

“It’s not like that!” Boomer cried, “She seduced me!”

“Yeah, uh, dude—” Butch took a bite of his sandwich, “—I’m’na stu’id.” He swallowed, chasing the bite down with a gulp of water. With a satisfied ‘ah,’ he smacked his lips and glanced over, “I know you’re lying to me. You know I know that, right?”

Boomer shrunk in on himself and toed the floor, “It’s still not like what he says it’s like, though.”

Butch smirked, “How’s it feel?”

His eyebrows furrowed together and he looked up from his shoes, “How does what feel? You know how shit it is when Brick’s not talkin’ to us.”

“No,” Butch rolled his eyes and tossed his phone to the side, “making out with his counterpart?”

Boomer choked on his own spit for a moment because no one had said the quiet part out loud yet. Brick had referred to it as the treachery, so that’s what it had been called—the Treachery.

“Uh—” He swallowed after coughing, and Butch’s smirk only grew.

“Should have stuck to your own. He’d be way less mad.”

Boomer’s cheeks burned to the tip of his ears.

“Congrats, though, man,” Butch pushed off the counter he was leaning on to stretch his arms, “you figured out the perfect form of payback—” he let his arms drop to his sides and rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck, “—when he’s acting like a dick, just makeout with his bitch.”

Boomer heard himself snarl, and with a loud, cruel sort of laugh, Butch threw his hands up in surrender, “You’re right, my bad! How rude of me! I meant, your bitch.”

“Shut up, Butch.” He hissed and Butch’s face darkened.

“Oh. So, now, I guess you think you can do that too, huh.” He sneered, “What? Does Blossom turn everyone into entitled dickheads?”

A different kind of betrayal laced Butch’s words that hurt more than Brick’s silences, causing him to falter for a conflicted moment. The consequences of his actions turned his stomach sour, and he plopped down at the kitchen table, fighting off a wave of nausea because sure, he had Blossom, but he had always had Butch. Could he bear losing him for her? Would that happen? Would he allow that to happen?

He plopped down into a chair and let his head fall into his hands.

“Dude, no—“ he moaned, voice thick with guilt, “I...I’m sorry. It’s just—”

Butch sighed, “Save it. It doesn’t matter.”

It did matter.

Boomer knew it did, but he didn’t press it any further. For a few long moments, they were silent. He sat, staring at the dirty kitchen tiles, and Butch stood, staring at him. Something significant swelled in that silence between them, but Boomer didn’t know if he was ready to face it.

A choice, though, needed to be made, and when when Butch sighed and turned to leave, he made it without thinking. He was good at doing shit like that. It was what got him into this mess in the first place, right? But he couldn’t stand the idea of watching his only other brother walk away.

“It’s nice!” He sputtered out, stopping Butch in his tracks, “Being with her is nice. She’s smart.”

Butch turned around just enough for Boomer to see his profile, “Nice and smart. I guess that checks out. But...” Butch sighed and ran his hand through his hair, fingers catching in his curls, “doesn’t it—she—remind you of him?”

Boomer winced because no but yes. And he didn’t like to think about it.

“She—no. I mean, they both...there’s the red hair thing and she’s his counterpart, but she different. She’s like the good parts plus more? Like—” he faltered, “—she doesn’t...I’m not stupid with her. She doesn’t tell me to shut up, she just laughs and it’s...nice.” He finished lamely and Butch cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I mean,” he tried again, “I don’t think Buttercup’s you. Sure, counterpart, you perform the same stereotypical corresponding function, but—” he snorted, “at the end of the day she’s...well, shit, she’s fucking prettier then you.”

Butch laughed at that. Actually laughed and a weight lifted off his shoulders. “Prettier? You sure? Have you seen me?”

“You get what I mean though?” He couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice and Butch tilted his head to the side in thought.

“Yeah,” he nodded eventually, “I get it. Just figured it was Bubbles.”

“So you knew?”

“Yeah, not all of it, obviously, but enough. Smilin’ more. Cookin’ stuff. Figured it was a girl and when you said nothing, figured it was her. Not Blossom, though.”

“Bubbles is cute.” He conceded, “but, I dunno, she, uh, wouldn’t it be like making out with yourself?”

Butch laughed again and refilled his glass of water with the tap before sitting down, “Better then making out with your brother.”

Boomer wrinkled his nose, “It’s not like that.”

Butch shrugged and smiled. It was a genuine smile. The one that lit up a room that Butch tried to hide from the world. Blossom said something awhile ago about Buttercup doing the same thing, but with her laugh. She also said her sister was very “astute,” which was a fancy way of saying that she could read people a little too well, just like his brother, but where Butch pretended not to notice, Buttercup made it her business. It made Blossom mad sometimes since she was supposed to be “the smart one, but really Boomer, half the time, I’m just guessing.”

He had kissed her for the first time around then.

“You know you just said that you don’t think Buttercup’s me, and Blossom’s not Brick, but Bubbles reminds you of you? That’s some contradictory shit.” Butch finally replied, “Wanna riddle me that, Batman?”

He scratched his nose and laughed albeit awkwardly, “Yeah, okay, that, uh, that’s a tough one. It’s just that, well—are you into your counterpart?”

“I think this is the one time narcissism would actually do you favors.” Butch deadpanned.

“You don’t—she’s not.” Boomer paused and started again, “She’s not Brick.”

It was a statement. But it came out like a question. He needed the confirmation, just once from someone else. Directly.

Butch stared at him, and that something swelled between them once more. This time, Boomer held his breath.

Eventually, Butch shook his head, “Nah, Brick’s Brick, and there’s only one of him, thank HIM. And Blossom’s Blossom.” Butch shifted, “Anyway, it’s...it’s not like we’re related. Fuck, Boom, I don’t even think we’re related. We were created in a prison toilet. I think we may be more related to bad prison wine then to each other.” He laughed and drug his hand through his hair again, “I...I don’t even think we have human blood. And—” he paused and looked back over at him, “—well, does she make you happy?”

“You’ve got no idea.” He answered a little too quickly, cheeks burning red.

Butch smiled that private smile of his again, and shrugged, “Alright, then. Okay. I don’t really know what this means bad versus good, but okay. That’s...I think that’s—I think we’ll figure it out. Getting kind of boring ‘round here anyways. Needed a little controversy, keep shit from getting stale.”

Boomer broke out into a wide smile, “So, you’ll talk to him?”

Butch was the only one who could ever talk to Brick when he got like this. It was something Boomer used to envy until he saw scorch marks running up Butch’s back and bruises littering Brick’s body.

“Yeah, Yeah, Boom,” Butch cracked his neck, then his knuckles, “I’ll drag the drama queen back out.” His brother winked at him, “why don’t you beat, though, huh? Go makeout with your girlfriend or something.”

“Thanks, Butch,” He sank into his chair with relief, “seriously.”

“Don’t mention it, but Boomer?”

He looked back up at his brother, “hm?”

“Buttercup?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Uh, yeah?”

“She’s off limits, you hear me?”

Boomer offered him a weak salute, and an even weaker smile, “Loud and clear.”

[m0chaminx]

Camilo Madrigal | You Deserve The World

Request : No

Prompt : None

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : angst, sad Camilo, fluff ending, I would warn that Camilo might be slightly out of character but my boy has six minutes of screen time, not much to go off really

Paring : Camilo Madrigal x GN!reader

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : Camilo needs reminding he is special

481 words

I do not know any Spanish so I did use a lot of google translate, so if there's any mistake I apologize, just let me know ill fix it asap

Camilo groaned shifting in his bed. It was well past midnight, he had been asleep for at least four hours, flopping into his bed at nine not even bothering to take his shoes or ruana off. Camilo felt sore, heavy, completely broken. He had been shapeshifting all day, entertaining people, watching over kids, doing chores, catching up on work, doing runs across town, and it was when a bunch of seven-year-olds rushed to him basically begging him to shapeshift for them. And then it felt like Luisa hit him like a tone of bricks, no one wanted to be entertained by Camilo they just wanted his gifts. He didn't even realize he was crying until a sob left his throat making his chest ache. Camilo shoved his face in his pillow trying not to cry, just teetering on a panic attack.

That morning, everyone noticed Camilo was off. Bags dragging his eyes down, a quiet rasped voice, refusing seconds and even taking smaller portions anyway. Pepa and Felix tried questioning him but he softly declined. And the whole house almost yelled when Camilo shifted, letting out a painful groan before pushing himself out of the house, limping out the door.

Camilo walked to the outskirts of town, to the forest the sat on the other side of the river, shifting back to himself noticing you sitting under the tree, waiting for him. Your gaze shifted over to him waving at him with a large smile. Camilo dragged himself to you plopping down in the grass, sighing in content that he didn't have to move anymore. "Hola, Mi Vida," You giggled seeing him sprawled out on the floor. "Camilo are you okay?" You asked running your hands through his curls, noticing he wasn't as happy-go-lucky. Camilo moved to sit on his knees his heartbreaking noticing your face drop. You moved to hold his face running your thumb under his eyes feeling the dark purples circles. "Milo, what happened?" Camilo snapped, falling against your shoulder his body shaking as he sobbed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him, letting him let go of his emotions. "It's okay Amor, let it out."

Camilo cried, sobbed, for nearly ten minutes, you let him cry, knowing Abuela didn't let Pepa show her emotions, you guessed Camilo bottled it up just the same. "I'm sorry Y/N, I just-"

"Don't apologize Cami," You spoke, stopping him. "You're allowed to cry." Camilo nodded moving to rest more comfortably against you, head on shoulder, hands intertwined as he rested against your chest. "Do you wanna talk?" You asked running your fingers across his knuckles.

Camilo nodded stretching his legs out. "I don't think- I don't think anyone really wants me," Camilo confessed, his voice cracking, lip quivering. "They just want my gift, no one wants me to entertain them, they want just to me shapeshift. And I did it so much yesterday I'm so sore, I could barley walk on the way over here." Now it was your turn for your heart to shatter, hearing Camilo talk so lowly about himself made you ache. The way he said it, so emotionlessly, like it was drilled into him.

You turned Camilo around to face you, slotting him between your legs. You took his face in your palms pulling him close to rest your forehead on his. Camilo moved his arms around and you cringed hearing him wince. "Camilo Madrigal," You said sternly, "your gift is amazing and yes it entertains people, but you are so much more than that. You make people smile no matter how you choose to entertain them. You are talented, funny-no powers needed. My Camilo is adorable, I mean have you seen your cute little face. You're are so sweet to everyone you meet, you treat your family amazingly, especially Pepa. You are a beautiful soul, a stubborn soul who needs to look after himself better, but beautiful no less. Camilo, you are special, a gift to this world, powers or not."

Camilo looked into your eyes, stray tears falling down his cheeks. Camilo smiled knocking his nose against yours, "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world," you whispered.

Request : Masterlist

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[arrowflier]

I absolutely loved your last ficlet, the one inspired by Take Me to Church (well, I love EVERYTHING you write), so I'm here with a thought that maybe you can turn into something:

What if, for some reason, Mickey has to speak in Ukrainian (your pick why, maybe directions to tourists or a phone call with a distant relative) and Ian witnesses it and just goes: 😳🤯🤤🥵😍, followed by "can you do that again when we're in bed"?

Thank you anon! Disclaimer that I do not know Ukrainian, so if google led me astray I apologize.

That Foreign Tongue

They were out in the rig, on their way to a pickup, when Mickey got a call.

He fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone, frowned at it in consternation as it blared.

“Who the fuck?” he mumbled to himself, then swiped to decline.

Ian looked over as he pulled to the curb outside their destination, curious.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know,” was all he got in answer. “Not a fuckin’ Chicago number, that’s for sure. Not New York, either,” he added before Ian can check. Mandy wasn’t great at staying in contact, but they knew to answer if it looked like it could be her.

Ian shrugged, and reached back to grab the cash bag from behind Mickey’s seat.

“Sure it wasn’t Mexico or something?” he prodded with a forced casualness, and Mickey rolled his eyes as he shoved open the door to get out.

He met Ian around the front of the ambulance, and promptly poked him in the chest, hard.

“What was that for?” Ian asked, wounded, and Mickey clicked his tongue.

“For still fuckin’ fishin’ about that,” he told his husband. “It’s been two fucking years, let it go already.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ian huffed. “Sorry for wanting to know more about what you did down there that has people calling in the middle of the—”

“That was one time!” Mickey exclaimed, arms going wide. “One fucking time, and I told you what it was about! Roberto needed me to check on his damn kid, it had nothing to do with—”

“Well how was I supposed to know that,” Ian interrupted loudly, “when you were speaking a whole different language?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Mickey trailed off as he stormed away from Ian down the sidewalk.

He wasn’t really mad. They did this song and dance around once a month, still, ever since one of his old contacts had found him and called him up. It stuck in Ian’s craw that Mickey had had people down there, without him, even though, as he explained to him once, he was glad about it at the same time. They both knew it didn’t really matter—sometimes it just needed to come out.

Sure enough, Ian caught up with him after only a few strides, falling in beside him naturally. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but otherwise there was no indication of their brief argument.

Mickey gave him two minutes before he tried to smooth it over.

Ian didn’t last one.

“You know,” his husband started, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “I’m just making sure none of those foreigners come up here and take what’s mine.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah?” he prompted. “Think they’re coming for our jobs and our husbands, now?”

Ian’s lips lifted in a grin, their banter back on track the way they liked it.

“I mean,” he said, “I can’t really blame them.” He grabbed Mickey by the arm and brought them both to a stop right outside their drop, tugging him close enough for their boots to kick together on the pavement.

“A hot, red-blooded American man like yourself,” Ian murmured, getting his arms around Mickey’s waist. “You’re quite the catch, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed, leaning up to bring their faces closer. “That right, Mr. Milkovich?”

He was just about to follow it up with a good old-fashioned make-up kiss, when his phone blared again from his pocket.

“Damn it,” he hissed as he thumped his heels back down and dug it out again. This time, he answered it immediately.

“Whoever the fuck you are,” he shouted into it, “you’re interruptin’ something here.”

An unfamiliar voice came down the line, barely audible to Ian where he still stood close but with a clearly chastising tone, and the fight went out of Mickey in an instant.

“Prīvіt,” Mickey muttered, looking almost bashful, and Ian did a double-take. That wasn’t English, or Spanish…he had to try and listen in on a third language, now? When did Mickey even find the time to learn this shit?

Ian watched silently as Mickey listened to whoever was on the line. His husband had folded into himself, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and his elbow with the other, casting a quick glance up at Ian before turning his attention away again.

“Shcho novogo?” he asked into the phone, and then a brilliant smile crossed his face a moment later. “Dobre, dobre,” he said, then “vitayu”.

It sounded like the caller asked him a question, next, but Ian couldn’t hear what Mickey answered, his husband lowering his voice and turning his back. Ian tried not to let himself feel hurt at the sudden shut-out.

A moment later, the call was over with a quiet “do pobachenn'a”, and Mickey faced him again.

Ian wanted to ask, but he waited instead, hoping Mickey would explain. Thankfully, he did.

“So, uh,” he started off nervously. “That was my…like, my great-aunt or something?”

Ian could feel his eyebrows rising. “You have family you still talk to?” he asked, and Mickey shook his head immediately.

“Nah, not really,” he admitted. “But this one, she’s back in Ukraine still, guess she calls around sometimes to check on me and Mandy.” He looked down at the dark screen of his phone, lips twisted. “Been a couple years,” he added. “Didn’t think she had the new number, but uh. Guess one of my cousins just had a kid or somethin', so she wanted to catch up.”

Family was a touchy subject, Ian knew. So he went for the next obvious question instead.

“Ukraine? That mean you speak Ukrainian?”

Mickey just looked at him. “No, Ian,” he offered dryly, “I just thought I’d make some weird sounds and see if she could read my mind from across the fuckin’ ocean.” Ian didn’t respond, so he tacked on, “Yes, I speak Ukrainian. Sort of.” He rubbed his nose, looked away and back. “That gonna be a problem for you?”

It was a fair enough question. But this wasn’t like the Spanish, which was never really the problem anyway. It wasn’t a reminder of time they spent apart, or things he didn’t now. It was just Mickey. And Mickey's voice, and the way it rolled over those unfamiliar phrases so cleanly, so...attractively.

“Not at all,” Ian clarified quickly. Too quickly, maybe, because Mickey’s cautious look gave way to a slow smile.

“Oh, really?” Mickey said, apparently delighted. He grinned even wider when Ian felt his face flush. So his husband sounded hot in other languages, fucking sue him.

“Better watch out, man," Mickey warned. "I hear foreigners like me are out huntin’ down men like you nowadays.”

Ian cleared his throat, and closed the distance between them again. “And that’s a problem how?” he asked.

“Didn’t say it was, miy cholovik,” Mickey murmured lowly, raising a hand to grip at Ian’s hair once he was close enough. Ian’s breath caught at the soft look on his eyes that accompanied the foreign words.

“What does that mean?”

Mickey pressed their lips together once, twice, before pulling back just enough to answer.

“Nothing bad, moye sontse,” he breathed, and Ian shuddered.

“We have a job to do,” he reminded Mickey weakly, like he hadn’t been the one to start this. “You keep saying that weird shit, we’re gonna have to cancel all our pickups today.”

“You better make some calls then, miy kokhanets,” Mickey chuckled against his lips. “But first…”

He pushed Ian back into a convenient alley right next to their original destination, shoving until they hit the rough brick wall. Ian didn’t protest as Mickey started to tug at his camo jacket, getting the zipper down far enough to mouth at Ian’s neck.

“Ya tebe kokhayu, Ian” Mickey muttered against his skin, pressing tighter as Ian clutched at his back. “Let me show you how much.”

--

Hours later, at home, Ian asked Mickey what else his aunt had said.

"Oh, not much," Mickey answered, snuggling closer. "Wanted to see if we could catch a flight sometime, go visit the old country, that kind of thing."

"Is that something you'd want to do?" he prodded, and Mickey shrugged, shoulders moving against Ian's chest.

"I guess," he said, unconvincingly disinterested. "I'd have to teach you the language, though, none of my mom's folks speak English."

Ian's brain ground to a halt. If the day had been any indication, he wasn't sure he could survive language lessons with his husband.

But never let it be said that Ian Gallagher backed down from a challenge.

"Sure," he agreed, and he was sure of one thing when he felt Mickey smile against his neck--it was going to be the best worst decision of his life.

--

According to my admittedly poor research, Mickey basically says hi, what's up, good, congrats, goodbye, then calls Ian my husband, my sun, my lover and says I love you. It's most likely all horribly butchered because I only speak English and a tiny bit of German, if you know Ukrainian I would happily take correction.

[cdroloisms]

so... the red banquet, huh?

im not going to lie, i was cheering on the eggpire the entire time (/lh) - what can i say, something abt the demon possessed resident evil crew just speaks to my heart. theyre FUN, ok? 

anyway, a lot of people were theorizing abt what c!dream showing up at the banquet could look like - and, well, i thought i’d write my version of it. this takes place in the “guard dog au” developed primarily by a gc im in on twitter (@stabbysideblog being the main originator of it, do check sunny out !!) - the basic premise is post-getting the revive book from c!dream, c!quackity continues to get his, uh, “use” out of him by basically treating him as a bodyguard/guard dog as he goes around the server - which should probably give you a pretty good idea of how this is going to go :] 

tws: death, grief, implied torture, starvation, abuse, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship, dehumanization, possession, trauma, mental illness, violence, dark content, dark imagery, emotional distress, mental instability, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (not really, but a very dark portrayal of him) 

A strangled sob claws its way up Puffy’s throat as she watches Foolish fall.

He drops in a spray of golden ichor in the crimson, brilliant green eyes trained on hers, jaw slack in horror, pain, dipping to the ground and whiting out before he’s even fully collapsed. The others’ screams hardly even meet her ears; all she can see is her son, falling, her son, dying, her son, that same sunlit kindness still held in the curve of his lips in this room that knows nothing but pain and betrayal, gone gone gone gone-

Because of her.

Ant’s still staring at her, pupils thinned to needles from the brightness of the lava at their backs, ears alert but stance entirely calm as he twirls his sword, still dripping gold. His mouth is moving but she cannot hear anything above the ring ring ringing in her ears, the world swirling and blurring dangerously from the tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, Ant’s eyes polished rubies where there had once been a cloudless sky. Bad gestures at the crowd, pushed back towards the lava’s fire in their fear, leaving her to stand in the middle of the room as one desperate dying scream, the egg, standing as a silent witness to it all-

“Bad-” a flash of blue, and there’s someone standing in front of her, shoulders pulled back, a diamond sword glittering their right hand, “Stop it.”

“Quackity.”’

Bad snarls, tail whipping back and forth; Puffy takes a step back, then another, shoulders still shaking in grief for her son, for her friends, for everyone who’s about to lose their lives in this twisted realm of crimson and hellfire. There is no fear on Quackity’s face though he stands unarmored, and for the first time in this awful day something like worry flashes over Bad’s face. There’s history here, she realizes - what did Bad say about Quackity attacking? - but none of this is making sense, not the self-assured way Quackity is carrying himself, wings relaxed and folded at his back, not the simmering unease making itself known in the foreign cadence of Bad’s voice.

“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done,” Quackity says, voice almost patronizing, like a parent stumbling in on the mess their child has made out of their bedroom, “this is impressive, I’m not going to lie, this is quite impressive.” Puffy swallows thickly, hears the shuddering gasp of someone behind her - Fundy, probably, or Sam - as Quackity’s voice drops. “You have to stop right now.”

“Stop?”

“This whole Egg thing is just getting out of control - you just killed a man,” Quackity stalks across the netherbrick floor like he has all the time in the world, ignoring the crossbows that the Eggpire has trained on his back, guarded only by the off-white shirt he’s wearing, an untied tie hanging limply around his neck. She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth - my son, they killed my son, she means to say, but the words stick to the walls of her throat and only escape her lungs in another series of wracking sobs. “Is that what you wanted to do, Bad?”

He laughs - laughs, of all things, and there is something here that Puffy is missing, that isn’t clicking through the muddied fog of grief hanging grey and suffocating around her head, but Quackity is speaking again and she can’t think about it all, not now, “-and I’m not gonna have it anymore, Bad.”

He slips over by the crowd, eyes glancing all of them huddled in one fearful mob over the tables, eyes dark and daring and cold; the Eggpire keeps their eyes trained on him, Bad’s eyebrows furrowed, Ant’s muzzle twisted in a snarl. Puffy watches, their words passing over her like water skidding against the surface of a rock splitting a stream in two, heart thudding in her ears, marking out the heartsick beats in this poisoned melody - one-two, her-son, her-son, her-son-

He stops in front of her in the middle of monologuing, eyes trained on her own like he’s trying to tell her something. His eyes flick down and she follows their gaze to his other hand, the one not clasped around a sword handle, watches as he gestures vaguely in the direction of the Eggpire. She frowns, confusion cutting through the grief - what is he trying to say? - and Quackity sighs, index finger slashing in the air in the shape of what might be an A as he spins on his heel to walk back towards Bad and the others.

“So how about we just stop playing?”

Quackity smiles, teeth white and glittering from the lava’s glow even as the Eggpire surrounds him, pushes him back against the wall. Bad seems to hesitate, hand clasped around the trigger of a crossbow he keeps pointed at the other’s head; when he speaks, he almost sounds mournful.

“I can’t,” he mutters, quiet, stepping forwards as his shoulders straighten, pushing Quackity back in a motion that the others are quick to follow. Puffy watches, an awful sinking feeling falling through the hole left in her chest by the sight of her son, falling, her son, dead - watches as Quackity’s wings open, shine golden in the lava’s light - what is he planning?

“You know why I can’t stop.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh through his lungs, “Bad- you and all your buddies here, drop your weapons, and leave. Let all of these people go.”

“Or what?” Ant’s voice is sharp, but Quackity barely pays him a second thought, swinging a glare at his head and cutting him off.

“I’m not talking to you,” he laughs, dismissive, “I’m talking to Bad.”

“No-” Puffy watches as Bad’s hand tightens on his crossbow, punctuating the word with a step forward. “You put your weapon down. If you wanted to stop us?” He’s too close to Quackity for Puffy to make out either of their faces, crossbow bolt aimed and ready to send straight through his skull. She stiffens, sees from the corner of her eye as the ones beside her look away, and resigns herself to the inevitable spray of blood on brick - not again not again don’t make me watch again - “You should’ve brought more than just yourself.”

Quackity laughs.

“I did,” his voice is dangerous in its levity, making Bad, then the rest of the Eggpire step back as his wings spread open further, watching with bated breath and wide eyes as a swarm of white descends from a hidden hole in the wall, “Or, well, I did the next best thing. I brought my worst enemy.”

“What?”

“Alright Quackity, where’s this Egg thing?”

Technoblade jumps down into the room in a familiar purple-black blur of expertly enchanted netherite armor, form impeccable despite the seeming exhaustion in his voice. At his feet, a pack of wolves gather, pace, muscles coiled and clearly ready to strike; he rolls his shoulders back, signature fireworks loaded into his crossbow, and the crowd behind Puffy immediately breaks into shocked murmuring and soft cheers.

On Quackity’s other side, someone else flips into the room, wearing a suit of all things, crisp and well-pressed; Purpled grins, entirely too gleeful as the Eggpire presses back further, held off by the dogs swarming and growling at their feet.

“Purpled- we hired you!”

“To be frank with you, Bad, a sword appears in Purpled’s hand and he flips it casually, blade thin and gleaming, “Quackity just had the better price.”

“We- we still outnumber you!” Bad’s voice is a near-scream in its desperation, his tail lashing back and forth as he shifts his weight forward, “It’s four against three- we’ll still win-” Despite herself, Puffy’s mind spins; either way, they’re still at a disadvantage from sheer numbers alone, never mind Quackity’s lack of armor. Maybe if they all work together, they’ll be able to sufficiently stop them, but there’s no way she can see this ending in anything less than a bloodbath-

“I didn’t want for it to come to this, Bad,” Quackity’s voice drops low and sweet, the sincerity in his tone belied by his glittering eyes and jagged grin. The shift in tone sends a shiver down her back, has even his allies shifting uncomfortably in what seems to be confusion - Puffy catches something like a murmured no from Sam, behind her, before Quackity whistles, loud.

It all happens too fast for her to follow; one moment, the Eggpire is standing, weapons raised and ready to fight; the next, and there is a new netherite-clad figure in the middle of the room, signature sparks of purple from a pearl still glittering around them, axe buried into Antfrost’s chest. The room devolves into shrieks as his body dissolves, Bad gasping sharply and something dark bubbling in Puffy’s chest - good - as the newcomer in the room moves over to Ponk, bloodstained axe swinging in a downward arc, only barely stopped in time by a diamond sword catching on the crook of the blade.

“Go!” Quackity’s voice rings out above the chaos, and Techno and Purpled - seemingly shaken from their shock - fly into motion, fireworks bursting in flashes of red and black that send Puffy blinking out stars from her eyes, Purpled moving to match blows against Hannah and Techno’s army biting at the ankles of the Eggpire leader. Around her, people scream in relief, cheering as the Eggpire, clad in eggshell-blue, are pushed back one by one, hindered by a shifting wave of teeth and claws and clashing blades and netherite moving smoothly over the uneven floor - Bad screams, “RETREAT!”, and they disappear into the wall.

Purpled curses; “I’m going after them.” Puffy watches, still reeling, as he dives into the corridor that Bad had revealed, a flash of purple and blue melting into the shadows; the mystery figure - still hauling a heavy, bloodstained axe, nearly dragging against the floor - moves forward as to follow.

Quackity snaps his fingers, and the figure stops, turns, immediately moving to the winged man’s side. Behind her, Puffy can make out cheers, gasping, hysterical sounds of relief; she can’t join them, feels nothing but the shuddering weight of her grief pressing further on her lungs as the adrenaline fades, head dizzy with Foolish’ sharp gasp in pain, Ant’s yowl of agony. Her eyes flick to the side, catch on Sam pacing, muttering under his breath; when his eyes meet hers, they widen in something like - alarm?

She shakes her head; she can’t think about all of that, right now. Her hooves stumble over the vines and rot strewn over the floor, carrying her forward to the glitter of gold on red, to where her son had fallen and she could do no more but watch with a scream caught between her teeth.

A hand lands on her shoulder- “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it in time.”

She whirls around; Quackity’s looking down at her, face twisted in sympathy. Behind him, the armored stranger looms, hair long and tangled, helmet keeping their face in shadow and hiding their features from view. There’s something distantly familiar to them, in the way they shift from one foot to the other, something that makes her eyes narrow and throat tighten-

“Who are you?” The words tumble from her mouth, making Quackity freeze, jaw snapping shut, the figure behind him tensing almost imperceptibly under their armor. “Who-”

Quackity’s eyes are dark, piercing; she can’t read them, the flat line of his mouth as confusing as it is frustrating. His eyes flick up to somewhere over her shoulder before moving back to her own

“How rude of me,” He smiles, gold tooth glinting, “I didn’t even introduce our special guest.”

His right wing presses against their back, and they drop, immediately, to their knees, making her step back in shock. Quackity’s hand slips easily under the edge of their helmet, ripping it off with little care and letting their hair fall in a wave of dusty browns over their face; he pulls the strands back roughly, revealing the paleness to their skin, the hollows in their cheeks-

“Dream?”

Her breath shudders in her chest, eyes snapping up to Quackity, still smiling, hand still pressed against the back of his skull. Dream’s face is pale, thin, clawed with new scars that highlight the jut of his cheekbones and the dullness of his eyes. He looks up at her, eyes glassy, skin almost grey, and for a moment she’s looking at Foolish, eyes unseeing in death, the luster of his skin stolen like the air from his lungs, and she nearly screams.

“Puffy, Puffy,” Quackity murmurs, almost kind, “It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine now.”

“He- he’s supposed to be in prison,” she hisses, not missing how he flinches, not missing how even that is hindered by the hand braced against his head. He looks strangely small kneeling at Quackity’s side, dwarfed by the netherite he’s wearing; even with an axe strapped to his back, the blade still wet with crimson and reeking of iron and decay, he hardly looks like the villain that had terrorized the server, the son she could no longer recognize in the midst of the bridges he burned.

“Oh- don’t worry about him,” Quackity shrugs, wings fluttering, “It’s all being done with the Warden’s permission, Puffy, I know what I’m doing.” As if to prove his point, his hand tightens on the other’s hair, tugging his head back by the roots; Dream hardly even reacts, simply letting himself be manhandled, throat bare and exposed to the air, similarly criss-crossed by scars. “He’s perfectly well-behaved now, you see?”

Her throat closes, the pit in her gut torn open by the sight of her son with a blade skewered through his heart only growing wider, hungrier, by the dullness in the eyes of the other. Foolish’ death had happened too fast for her to react: one moment, he was staring at her, eyes mournful in goodbye; the next, he was a tumble of gold and green and blue against the floor, half of his name still not having left her lips. Dream’s head swivels to hers, face entirely blank; there is nothing quick written in the gauntness of his face, more scar tissue than skin, in the shadows under his eyes or how they seem to stare, unseeing, in the long, knotted strands of hair twisted over Quackity’s knuckles. He looks like he’s been dying, slowly, for months, and the screaming cry of YOU FAILED ringing in her head in Ant’s voice only grows louder.

“What did you-” the words scrape roughly against the inside of her mouth, “What did you do?”

Quackity shrugs, letting go, and Dream’s head tips forward to stare at the floor. “What had to be done.”

He clicks his fingers again, and Dream stands, falling behind Quackity with his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Quackity hands him back his helmet, keeping his hand stretched out, palm up, even after Dream takes the netherite and fastens it back over his head. Puffy watches, heart stuck in her throat, as Dream fiddles with something by his throat, pulls out a thick coil of iron chains, pressing the end to Quackity’s outstretched hand - the other side, she realizes, fastened around his neck.

Her breath stutters when he looks back at Quackity, gut roiling at the familiarity - it’s an imperfect copy of the way he used to look at her, a skittish shadow at her tail, all awkward smiles and fidgeting hands. Only now, his eyes don’t dance with the same light, his lungs shivering in fear instead of wheezing laughter; she watches as his head follows Quackity like he’s the only person in the room, a duckling imprinted on the nearest person and ready to follow to the ends of the world and further, and her heart shatters all over again.

“Anyway,” Quackity’s eyes soften, lips curled in sympathy, “My condolences, Puffy, for your son. It really is a tragedy.”

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, a sob once again caught in her throat. The images overlap - Foolish, smiling under the sun’s glow, sitting on the roof of his summer home - Dream, grinning in the treetops, eyes as green as the leaves surrounding him - Foolish, falling in a spray of ichor and a gasp of pain, Dream, grey-eyed and silent, dead as the crimson rot surrounding his beaten body-

My condolences for your son, Quackity’s words echo in her skull, and not for the first time, she laughs miserably, tears falling from her eyes.

Which one?

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I’m not sure if you have something planned for this already but wouldn’t it be the height of irony if Tooley got monched on by a starved Chris when he forgot to drug him? Just opens the door and whoops! He eaten!

CW: Whumper death, drunkenness, some dehumanization, blood drinking, bit of gore, vampirism, some very light catholicism

-

New York City, 1936

KING EDWARD VIII ABDICATES THRONE British Monarch to Wed American Socialite Wallis Simpson

Tooley kicks at the sodden, half-frozen newspaper stuck to his shoe, grunting with the effort it takes to dislodge it. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his thick woolen coat, and he ignores the envious stares of others whose threadbare outfits are patched, whose gloves are little more than rags wrapped around their not-quite-frostbitten fingers.

Instead, he pulls his scarf up higher, tucks his chin beneath its knitted warmth, and finally manages to send the scrap of paper with its water-stained black-and-white image of a stern-faced soon-to-be ex-king and his Baltimore lover into the street, where it sticks in a puddle and soaks clean through.

The old-timers say a heavy rain is coming, citing their aching joints and bones. It's been a wet winter already, and the absolute last thing New York needs is more rain.

Tooley plans to be holed up in his nice warm little house for the whole of it. He's sold three paintings in a month, and he can spend the next few weeks on the next one until his hands want to drop right off his wrists without having to distract himself with petty concerns like money.

The liquor bubbles warm inside him, and even with the frigid air he's broken a sweat along his back, trickling to his waistband, almost a tickle. He stumbles a little, catches himself, coughs out a laugh as the cold air burns deep into his lungs. It can't penetrate the hazy heat of the drink, though.

Mel's always has the best whiskey, and Tooley has the green these days to pay for the very best indeed. He's spent what might be a whole month's pay - if he weren't the luckiest artist in New York - in a single night.

You might say he's made a deal with the devil.

He pulls the brim of his fedora down, shielding his brow from the bit of freezing moisture speckling his cheeks. He struggles not to giggle like a child.

"Got a bit to spare for a hungry man?" A rasping voice calls out from an alley as he passes. "Help me feed my family, sir? I'm out of work, sir! Got three little ones with hungry bellies!"

Tooley ignores him.

There are crowds like that everywhere these days, always pressing for help, for a little something more and more and more. Men out of work, men in bread lines, women with tired faces and sad children. He's had just about enough of it.

They're calling it a depression, and he finds the term apt enough, considering it seems the whole country's been tumbled into a hole and can't find its way out.

He'd take his muse to Europe and paint there if it weren't for the echoing tension that bleeds over across the sea. Every nation he's idolized for their arts is trying to posture at each other. Rattling sabers while the people sigh heavily and keep washing their laundry, like always.

Tooley was a child when the Great War tore his own family apart - losing an older half-brother to the pointless trenches, a father to the mustard gas that ate his lungs to pieces, a mother to her desperate, sharp grief at her husband and stepson's loss.

The War had rendered him alone in the world before he was even twenty, though he'd been too young to hardly understand it and it had had nothing to do with him.

Wars were for rich men to send poor men to fight in, and Tooley is hoping to have enough wealth to maybe just float right past a new one, if the rumors beginning to swirl came true and Europe is going to erupt. Surely, though, no one would let a second war as horrible as the last happen.

Surely not.

Still, even so, he can simply disappear if they try to call him up to fight. He has no one left to lose, after all. No one to fight for, no one to care for. No one but his pretty little model, all locked away, his to keep.

Tooley takes a sharp left and the streets begin to change from the harsher gray of the city proper into neighborhoods, houses crammed tightly together. It's not the best part of town - Tooley's parents weren't the wealthiest, and he doesn't live like a gentleman, he's got no need to, it's not how he thinks a proper artist should live anyway. Have to keep up the image of the nearly-starving creative genius, after all.

There are still lights in some windows, despite the late hour. Tooley isn't the only one drunk at midnight and still moving.

It's a mile or so from the start of his street to where his house is nestled between two others, close enough he could reach out his kitchen window and touch the brick of the home next door. He smiles a little. His nose aches with the cold at the tip of it, but that's nothing to worry himself over.

He's home.

It takes him four tries to unlock his front door, the key jabbing into wood and brass too far to one side or the other. He laughs, breath puffing white clouds into the air, his ears burning with the cold where his hat doesn't quite cover them.

Good thing he's not with a woman, tonight, if his aim's so bad with just his hands.

The thought makes him laugh harder, nearly a guffaw, loud enough that he's sure he's woken a neighbor or two. It's not the first time.

Finally, the key slides home and the lock clicks and Tooley moves inside. The house is chilled in the entryroom, but as he slides his coat and fedora off to leave them on the coat rack and moves into the kitchen, towards the back, he can feel the warmth slowly trickling from the ticking radiators along the walls.

He's due for a coal delivery in the next couple of days, and boy, he's going to need it with the weather the way it's been.

Tooley heads for his perfect little secret, the vampire held in the backroom, once a sort of servant's bedroom for some family that had owned the home even before his own parents did. It's his studio, now, and the place where the little vampire boy is kept.

He unlocks that door, too. A key, a deadbolt, a little sliding lock at the top for added safety.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty," He slurs, and laughs again, delighted at his own little joke.

There's a scrape and a rustle, and Tooley steps back to let the vampire boy move forward, out of the freezing unheated room - Tooley only turns the radiator on in there when he himself is working, it's not like dead things care about being warm after all - and into the kitchen proper, with its little two-person table.

The boy is looking dirty - he's due for a bath, long overdue honestly. Good things he doesn't sweat enough to stink.

His hair hangs lank in his eyes, closer to dark copper than the new-penny shine Tooley prefers. There are smudges along his cheeks, marring his perfect freckles. He's draped in a sweater patched badly where his elbows have worn holes right through, pants that are tied with a rope since Tooley sure isn't going to waste money on a belt for a corpse.

"Is, did, did you, um, did you bring me food?" The vampire boy looks up at him, eyes glinting a little in the dimness, that unsettling cat-like glow-in-the-dark effect. His little fangs flash, too. "I'm... I'm, I'm hungry, Tooley."

"I know you are, bloodsucker."

"It's, it's been, um, it's been weeks, Tooley-"

"I know, I know. Shut your trap." Tooley ruffles his hair, then pulls his hand back with a grimace as he remembers how dirty and greasy it's gotten, walking away to go to the sink and wash his hands. "We'll get t'that. I met with someone very important at th' bar tonight, and first things first, you and I are going to celebrate."

The boy moves slowly, staying half-crouched - he's been hit before, when Tooley didn't want him to stand all the way up. He settles himself against the wall, head tilted to the side. His cheekbones cut sharp angles in his face, edging down to his narrow chin.

Those big green eyes follow Tooley everywhere he goes.

"Celebrate what?" He asks, and Tooley wonders just how old the ridiculous little thing is. He'd said early aughts, hadn't he, on when he was turned? So he'd be, what, in his forties really?

Funny.

Was he locked up during the Great War?

He's still a pretty teenager, but he's probably closing in on fifty. Tooley's twenty-some years younger and looks infinitely older, in his own estimation.

Tooley should look into vampirism, seems an excellent way to hold onto your looks, doesn't it? He wonders if the boy knows how to turn him. They could make beautiful work forever...

Hm.

Something to ruminate over when he's hungover in the morning.

"New commission. I'm taking a few weeks off, give us both a break, but I've got the basic details. I'll pick up a broad, get her all set up for modeling, we'll make us a mint, sweetheart." He moves to the counter, picking up the half-full bottle of gin he keeps there, taking a swig and grimacing, coughing. There's a rattle in his lungs these days he doesn't like much.

"You'll, you'll kill her?" The vampire watches him. He looks hungry, with all those sharp lines emphasized, as though he were a painting himself still in progress, with the outline still written in graphite showing through the colors. He's pale, painted in wash, not yet turned to vivid velvet intensity with oils.

"'Course. You think any of my models would stay alive anywhere near you?" He laughs at the very idea, missing the vampire's little flinch as he turns away. He pulls a loaf of bread from the breadbox, already starting to stale but that's all right, he's going to toast it over the stove anyway. The world swims around him from the liquor, and he catches the counter with one hand to keep himself upright.

The feeling brings another laugh out of him.

The little vampire smiles faintly in echo of it. He has to work to get the stove to gas, narrowing his eyes as it struggles, sputters, before finally a little flame flares up. Just enough to give off a little heat for the toast.

"Fuck. Drank too much. Or not enough." He laughs again, and pulls a knife from the knifeblock, the sharp serrated thin blade best for slicing through the heavy sourdough he buys from a woman down the block. Bit of toast, pat of salted butter, that'll get him through to morning when he can head down for eggs and bacon at Paulie's diner.

Maybe he'll even buy some extra for the hungry men who hound around the doors. He can be a philanthropist.

As he slices, the knife slips off the stale, hard crust and cuts right through the back of his hand, a long line immediately welling with bright red blood. He groans, irritated, and sets the knife down, turning to run cold water over it as the pain flares bright, but slightly muted from his drunkenness.

There's a rustle behind him, and Tooley's mind only belatedly begins to allow alarm to trickle through the warm fuzz of the gin and whiskey. He slowly turns around.

Where the vampire boy had been curled against the wall, a bundle of skinny bones and too-big clothes, there's... nothing.

Tooley glances to one side and sees the boy crouched on the floor by the edge of the lower cabinets, his hands pressed into the ground. He moved five feet in less than a second.

His eyes are flared, wide and with pupils burying the iris in black. He clicks, softly, tongue against teeth in an inhuman way.

Click-click-click-click.

click-click-click.

How'd he move so fast?

"Shit," Tooley whispers. "When's the last time I fed you?"

The vampire doesn't answer, only stares, unblinking, muscles tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. He clicks again.

His lips pull back from his teeth and those fangs that seem so cute and little on every other day suddenly look long, like daggers, dripping a shimmering venom to the ground.

Tooley tries not to blink, too, but his eyes dry and dry and dry and eventually he can't help it. His eyes close, a fraction of a second, and flare open right away.

Not fast enough.

The vampire leaps and Tooley grunts at the impact of the small bony body against his own, his lower back smacking into the line of the counter with a flash of pain. The bread and knife both clatter to the ground.

Panic comes, but it doesn't help. He's still groping to get at another knife when the vampire's fingernails dig into his scalp, grip into his hair and jerk his head to the side to bare his throat.

"Hungry," The vampire boy hisses. "Hungry, Tooley. Hungry."

"I-I know, just, just don't blow your wig, gimmee a minute, I can get you something, just hold on-" Tooley's voice is thin from the harsh angle his neck is being held at, and he swallows, seeing in a bleary haze the way the vampire's huge eyes are focused on the movement of his adam's apple, the bob of his throat.

Can he see the blood pulsing there?

He puts his hands up against the vampire's chest to try and push him off, but it's like pushing against rock. He thinks about painting the vampire as a kind of young Prometheus for a dandy from Boston, tied naked to a rock to be pecked at by eagles, and wonders if the mythological man ever tried to push the rock itself, and if it failed as miserably for him as it does for Tooley now.

"There's blood in the shed out back, just let me go and I'll grab it for you." He pitches his voice soothing and slightly patronizing, like speaking to a whining dog. "Okay, kitten? Just two minutes and you'll be fed, right as rain."

The vampire pauses, hesitates, and Tooley feels his hands working at Tooley's hair and one shoulder, like a cat kneading into your lap before they settle. His little stray. His breathing starts to ease, his heart to slow down, the first rush of panic subsiding.

The world still spins a little, but the rush of adrenaline is settling things into something more solid, wiping away the liquor.

"I'll put you back in your room and go get it for you, it's right outside, good and cold," Tooley coos, and realizes too late it isn't what he should have said.

"There's blood right here, and and and, and, and it's living," The vampire boy says, eyes wide and inhuman, and he's absolutely gorgeous. "Your, your, yours is hot."

Tooley would paint him like this, all feral instinct overwriting the living corpse of an anonymous Irish immigrant who died dozens of years ago. A metaphor, maybe, for the way some of the children who come here lose all their European culture and get boorishly American, and-

The vampire bites down, and all thoughts of art and culture flee from Tooley's mind.

The liquor holds off the pain so long the venom hits before he even feels the way those sharp teeth have breached his skin. He goes limp, dropping in a heap to the floor. He thinks he hits his head on the loaf of bread before it knocks into the floor.

They feel about the same level of hardness.

The knife is right next to his head, lying there, shining in the yellowed lamplight, with its carved wooden handle.

All he has to do is move his hand a few inches to reach it.

Just a few inches.

He tries, desperately, to tell his fingers where to go.

The vampire sucks hard at the wound in his neck, pulling blood from his veins like a man drinking an egg cream after a long hot day's work, and Tooley groans. He can feel the press and pull without the pain, and it's the strangest thing he's ever felt. Stranger than those he's gone to bed with.

The venom makes his limbs feel like stones, weighed down to motionless. He struggles even to swallow saliva, to take a deep breath. His heart never races again with panic. He isn't able to feel it any longer.

Those sharp little fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, the weight of the vampire settled on him, straddling him. A little flirty thought - at least buy me dinner first - makes its way across his mind, barely coherent, slow as molasses.

The vampire starts up his soft rumble, the vibration filtering in through into Tooley's body. It seems like it makes him feel even more frozen, heavy as the ocean and weightless at once.

His eyes are on the ceiling, and he realizes how long it's been since anyone cleaned the corners where cobwebs have grown and grown. They need swept away.

Funny how he never noticed before. Too busy with his art.

There's a moment where Tooley is surprised to look down at himself, as if he's floating somewhere near the ceiling staring down at his own open eyes. When he needed not to blink, he couldn't stop himself, but now the body he is looking at just stares and stares and stares, unseeing, unblinking, unbreathing-

Oh.

As soon as the realization hits, Tooley's awareness of himself as a body he can observe is gone.

There is darkness, and then a point of terrible final light. He feels the grasping of bloodied hands.

And he's gone.

The vampire drinks until the blood stops pumping, until the heart beneath his kneading hand is still. Then a rough tongue laps at the wounds, finding the last few droplets there that still sing with life.

The vampire pulls back, skin flush with life, no longer white as snow. His freckles stand out, scattered like constellations of stars over his skin. The dead man beneath him has all the paleness he had before, they are switched, swapped death for life.

He wipes the blood from around his mouth and looks slowly upwards, breathing in deep gulps he doesn't need but which feel so, so good.

He moves to the stove, to turn it off, but he doesn't quite turn it off all the way. An odd smell fills his nose and the vampire's nostrils wrinkle, but he doesn't know what the scent is, and he simply pulls Tooley's coat on before he leaves, door unlocked.

A few minutes later, a man with his hands over a barrel fire looks up to see a redheaded teenager in a woolen coat far too large for him move under a streetlamp, pausing to look up at it as if surprised by how bright its light is.

He blinks, and the man squints.

The young man's mouth is open, as if scenting the air by letting it roll over his tongue. Before the man can quite understand what he is looking at, the boy's mouth closes and he turns to look at the man. As his eyes shift from being lit by the lamp to draped in shadow, though...

They glow.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," The man whispers, crossing himself hurriedly. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, b-be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil-"

The boy looks right at him, head tilted. The flames of the barrel flicker, hissing a little when raindrops start to fall. His lips pull back from his teeth and there are an animal's fangs there, plain as day.

The man feels pure horror at the sight of a demon walking free and unfettered in New York City. He grabs at the cross he wears around his neck and holds it out, his voice trembling. "May G-God... rebuke him, we humbly pray-"

"I, I, I hope that works for you," The boy says, and his voice is soft, and there's almost a lilt of the old country there that the man recognizes, not quite his own but not far off. "It never d-did for, um, for me. Don't worry. I'm... I'm full. You're, you're, you're in no danger from me. When, when, when, when... when did you come here? To this place?"

The man swallows around a lump in his throat, and yet he finds himself compelled to answer honestly. "Two years past, give or take. Came with m'wife and baby girl."

"From where?"

"... Kerry," He says, against his will. He can't seem to hold back the words. "And my wife grew up in County Cork."

The boy smiles, and his horrid teeth disappear when his lips press together. He looks for all the world like any other young man, a bit skinny perhaps and in need of a good meal or three, but no danger to anyone.

But the man has seen the demon that he is, and he finds himself grateful for the fire between them and the cross still in his hand, the shield of St. Michael and the cloak of Christ Himself.

"My, my, my, my parents were from County Cork," The demon boy says, lightly. His lilt is slightly stronger. "Wonder if we're cousins, your your wife and I. Maybe so. Stay home, um, after dark. Don't, don't, don't work when the sun is, um, is down."

The boy turns and walks away.

The man realizes with a start that in the midst of a chilly December night, the boy's feet are utterly bare. He steps over ice like he could walk on water.

There was blood smeared on the back of his coat.

The man flinches as he hears a sudden boom, close enough that he feels it in his chest as well as hearing the sound. A moment later a woman runs by shouting that a house has caught flame, to call for help.

The man looks back at the way the boy went.

He's gone.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[burnedbyshoto]

life is not a shoujo manga

— Kaibara believes that his life with you could be a shoujo manga. Why? One, he’s in love with you and two, you work at a maid cafe he is prohibited from visiting. But nothing happens in life without doing what you’re told NEVER to do.

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pairing: kaibara sen x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, modern!au, reader is a sex worker, maid cafe but make it kinky, dubcon (spoiler: reader just services kaibara despite his embarrassment), semipublic sex, master and maid dynamic/kink, blow job, sex on a table, marking

word count: 4,570

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab for sex work lmaoooo, this was hella inspired by maid-sama,,, kinda sorta, not really, but hey!!!! check out the rest of the masterlist and I hope you enjoy this!!! happy birthday to me :D

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Kaibara Sen was pretty confident in the fact that he was not in a shoujo manga.

There are, however, some claims that he can unashamedly admit make him believe that he might be in one. Here is his gathered evidence:

1. He had a crush on a girl (you) that was practically written to be nothing more than a crazy, hopeful fantasy.

Explanation:

Kaibara has known you for his entire life, but you, the airheaded, mind focused on only those around you, had never noticed him. You were bright, intelligent, witty, with blazing eyes and a curling smile, you were an enigma in the world, and he was a bystander just waiting for a day when you would notice him. Popular as you were, Kaibara knew he stood no chance at ever playing a role in your life. There was no room for his initial stoic personality, the way that he walks away from you as you near because, god forbid, you see his ears tinge pink.

All in all, you never knew he existed, and his crush would have to remain one-sided and unknown. But you see, reason number two is yet a testament to his denied belief that he lives a shoujo manga.

2. He had gained your attention one day by catching you one day when you tripped off a brick wall.

Explanation:

Talk about falling into the arms of the one you’re destined for! Kaibara had been walking home from the end of his first year of high school, and as he turned a corner, there came a yell and he looked up to see a body plummeting towards him. With adrenaline coursing through his veins and superhuman strength supplying him the strength and ability to catch you, Kaibara caught you bridal style. He held you there for a few moments, the air suddenly blowing and the blossoming cherry blossoms swirling with the winds. He swore your eyes brightened at the moment you locked eyes.

3. He had a (former) love rival.

Explanation:

Pretty self-explanatory, Kaibara would admit. Before his introduction to you, another male student in your class had been essentially building up his intentions to ask you out. Kaibara wasn’t one to step on people’s toes; he respected people too much and often just didn’t want to spend energy where he thought was unnecessary. But you were never unnecessary. Kaibara wanted you and found himself clashing heads with this other love rival, but he seemed to have won the moment Kaibara was accepted into the same university as you.

4. You were working at a maid cafe.

Explanation:

Kaibara did not have an older sister for no reason. Maid-Sama and Ouran Highschool Host Club were constantly on repeat when he was growing up! Because of this selected memory and application, he believed that time and time again, whenever maids were involved — or any type of service job — it was shoujo material.

Four points and that was four more points than most romances, and Kaibara was convinced that he was in line to become the main star of a real-life adaption of some obscure shoujo manga. All he had to do now was seal the deal and get you, his now best friend of nearly four years, to fall in love with him.

“I have work tonight,” you sigh from your place on Kaibara’s bed, your face twisted in a dissatisfied pout, feet kicking a bit on the mattress. 

“Call out,” Kaibara simply replied, his head resting upon yours as you both watched an old All Might film. “I don’t understand why the maid cafe is open so late anyways. Who’s even awake and wanting to go out?”

You chuckle at his words, fingers tapping on your thigh — as they do when you’re a bit nervous.

“It’s a cafe for foreigners and people who are up late,” you repeat the same line you always say when Kaibara asks why you would go in so late. “It works out, and it pays well.”

“How long is your shift tonight?”

“Ten until three.”

Kaibara groans, “that’s rough.”

You snicker a bit in unknown irony, “you have no idea.”

Time passes, and Kaibara realizes that it’s nearly nine-thirty by the time you pull away from the small mirror on Kaibara’s desk (he bought it so that you could do your makeup in his room), and he looks at you in your beautiful form. You looked ethereal in the makeup, big eyes, and painted pretty lips. You turned to look at him, a grand grin painting your lips, and for whatever reason, a spoof of unspoken for confidence, Kaibara feels himself speaking before he can stop himself.

“Go on a date with me? Next weekend?”

You froze, before chuckling, lips splayed in a lazy grin, “you’d want to date a maid?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Kaibara watched as you flustered a bit, teeth tugging and tearing into your lower lip as you shook your head. “You’re a dork, Sen,” you push back a strand of hair as you stand up, “but let me think about it? As much as I love the idea of potentially being your girlfriend, I need to think about how you would feel about my job.”

And Kaibara smiled despite himself, his mind thinking about how sometimes shoujo protagonists often deny their own feelings at first. Not that his life was a shoujo manga anyways.

“I can do that.”

You laugh, the sound pretty and light on his ears, and you shake your head. Kaibara warmed at the sound and stood up too, already knowing that it was time for you to leave.

“Alright, but I must leave you now, my eternal love,” you grin, speaking with a mock accent. Your arms open for your goodbye hug he has since been accustomed to giving you when you both went separate ways. “I bid thee well when I’m away for the week.”

Ah yes, you would be gone for an entire week on account of a school trip you were taking.

“I do not know how I may live without you at my side, but I will try,” Kaibara spoke back with a low accent, too, his smile hidden in your neck as he hugged you near. “Have a good shift, and be safe on your trip.”

“Obviously!”

Two things about your job besides the obvious (that it was a maid cafe) that Kaibara knew.

1. You made a lot of money there.

He wasn’t all too sure as to why. He’s been to a maid cafe before and has definitely been called Kaibara-sama by pretty-faced females in French maid costumes. He knew that it was a popular place for otaku men and foreigners, but he also knew that pay range-wise, it wasn’t that much better than a typical waitress job.

2. Under no circumstances should he, or anyone for that matter, follow you to work or try to see you while you worked.

This made sense to Kaibara even if he didn’t particularly agree. There was no denying that he wanted to see you in a maid costume, he’d be a liar if he said otherwise, but he realized how embarrassing it could be for you. The fact that he knew where you worked was good enough for him.

Kaibara sighed, his body collapsing onto his bed, and he pulled out his phone. He checked the time on his phone and smiled, seeing that at this point, you were already at work because you sent a text saying that you had arrived. A small notification warning him that his phone was about to die pinged on his screen, and he frowned, hand reaching for his charger.

But instead of the white cord, his hand grasped onto the rose gold charging cable he knew was yours. You needed the charging cable; you were leaving on a trip basically right after work! Kaibara’s mouth twisted, weighing his options in his head. He knew that you had no other charging cables; you had a knack for breaking them without meaning to. 

Shaking his head, he stood up.

This was about your charger for your phone.

It would be okay! He would simply step foot into the maid cafe, hand your coworker (he was hopeful he would see you) your charger, and leave! He wouldn’t stay! Nope! Not at all.

Kaibara nodded at his resolution and pocketed your charger before turning on his heel and marching out of his room.

It took a bit to get to the cafe.

Fushi’s Maid Cafe is what it was called.

Its hours of operation were quite weird, at the very least in Kaibara’s opinion. On its website, it said that it was open between 11 am and 5 pm, a reasonable range for its demographic; however, there were many times in which you would go in much later in the night. You were in a 10 pm until 3 am shift after all.

It was currently midnight as the trains were down for the night, and Kaibara had resolved to walk a near hour to drop off your charger. He didn’t really mind, especially if he sees you in that costume.

‘No!’ Kaibara thought, ‘you’re in a shoujo manga, not a hentai!’

He frowned, remembering to continue to claim that he was not living in a shoujo manga, and strode to the door. Confidence in every step, his game plan being repeated time and time again. 

Kaibara swung open the door, readying himself to hear the onslaught of a chorus of ‘Welcome home, Master!’ but instead… oh…

He froze.

“F-Fukuda-samaaaaa!”

He blinked.

And as the door closed behind him, the most fucked out, blissful voice that he had only heard in his wettest of dreams called out, “Welcome home, Kaibara-sama…”

Kaibara locked eyes with you sitting alone at a table, your eyes laced with blissful lust, lips pouty and wet. The maid costume you had on exposed your beautiful breasts, shoving the curves, the tender flesh, and your sweat shined softly off it. Kaibara felt his breathing become shallower yet deeper as the sounds of meeting wet sex, lewd cries, the maids begging for more, demanding more. The clients — the masters — speaking in tongues as they fucked the women against the chairs, tabletops, anything in which they could balance. 

Oh.

It made sense why you never wanted anyone to follow you to work.

Kaibara had been so caught up in the scene before him, the somehow sex maid cafe themed orgy (sexy party? But there was no group sex minus the man in the back fucking three maids!) that he hadn’t noticed you approach him. He tensed yet again when your hands fisted into his shirt, your warm breath brushing against his exposed collarbones, a curling sweetness emitting from your person and knocking his breath away yet again.

“Kaibara-sama, I never expected you to finally come. I’ve missed you,” you whine, pressing your body so close to his. Your stocking-covered thighs were brushing against his slowly awakening dick. 

“Y-Y/n,” Kaibara stuttered, and he winced at how not part of the plan that was. “I-I thought this was a maid cafe?”

“We are a maid cafe,” you sigh as if he was asking an amusing yet dumb question. Your arms wrapping around his neck, and hips rolling against his. “We service our masters however they see fit! I wanna help Kaibara-sama feel good now that he’s here.”

Kaibara hisses under his breath, the feeling of your thigh rubbing against his growing dick insatiable as it is slightly uncomfortable due to the rough fabric of his jeans. “I’m here to drop off your charger! You forgot it! I-I’m leaving after this.”

You grin, your laughter bell-like in his ear as you nuzzle your nose against the smooth curve of his neck. “I left it there on purpose; I wanted Kaibara-sama to follow me here and see if he could still love me like this.” Goosebumps flash across his body, and Kaibara whines at the back of his throat as you begin walking backward, taking him to the table where you once sat. “I never wanted Kaibara-sama to see me like this, never wanted Kaibara-sama to see and know what a big whore I am before he confessed his feelings to me. But Kaibara-sama followed me to my work and didn’t run away… I’m so blessed.”

Your hands landed on his chest, and Kaibara yelped as you shoved him onto the spacious, comfortable chair before the table. Your teeth bit into your lower lip, eyes practically glowing with lust as a single sleeve began descending from your shoulder.

Kaibara suddenly forgot how to breathe.

“I’m at your service, Kaibara-sama,” you whisper, eyelashes fluttering. “How may I help you?”

Kaibara was going to respond eloquently and affirmatively that he didn’t need you to service him, but the Kaibara-sama sounded so lovely.

“I— um, well— I— ohmygoD!” 

Kaibara nearly leaped out of his own skin as you pushed his knees apart and kneeled before him. Your eyes locked on his before glancing down to the prominent bulge in his pants. You grin, fingers stretching out and eagerly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling out his hard cock in less than ten seconds.

“Wowwww,” you breathe, eyes lighting up at the still hardening dick you were holding in your hands. “Kaibara-sama… you’re so big!”

You stared at the easily nine-inch dick in your hands, the slight curve to it making your core burn, and the bluish veins dancing under the skin making your mouth water. He was better than what you had expected him to be, and you wanted to know how he tasted, how he felt in your mouth and your pussy. 

His erratic breathing caught your attention, and you looked back up at him, the scarlet on his cheeks, the expression that told you that he was battling instinct and morals. It was up to you, his maid, to make the decision for him, it seemed.

“I’ll take good care of you, Kaibara-sama,” you promised, heart hammering in your chest as you leaned forward, and without much of an issue, swallowed at least half of his cock.

Kaibara’s reaction is instantaneous; the near howl of pleasure and surprise ripping from his throat is a sound you’re almost unfamiliar with. He was such a serious man; even when he was comfortable and energetic, there was a sense of seriousness to him. There was a time, however, that you remember him being near-feral, demanding, excited. It was when there was a competition or when his feelings truly and utterly overcame him. You smiled around his cock, your teeth barely scraping the length of his cock, and giggled.

You overwhelmed him.

But there was no time for celebrations, no time to think about how you were serving your master to the best you could; his hands were suddenly fisted into your hair, and his hips rolled up into you, fucking your throat. Tears sprung in your eyes, the uncomfortable sensation of his cock flushes down your throat, pressing so heavy on your tongue.

“F-Fuck, this feels so fucking good!” Kaibara gasps, his eyebrows scrunching and hips lifting off the seat to continue face fucking you. 

You relax your throat as best you can, chokes and gags pittering out of your mouth despite your best attempts. You hum, forcing your throat to allow the tip of his cock to go even further down your throat. Kaibara moans loudly, the noises he makes dripping down your back, making you feel sweaty, hot, and flush. His noises stir the heat between your thighs, making one of your hands go down beneath the layers of your puffy skirt to press to your throbbing clit, desperate to relieve the building, untouched tension.

“No!” Kaibara hisses, a single hand leaving your head to grab onto your wandering hand and bringing it back up. You yelp around his cock at the sudden movement, and you’re forced to come off his cock with haggling, rough coughs. Tears fall down your cheeks, and there's a thick line of saliva and precum trailing between the tip of his cock and the bottom of your lip. “You’re my maid, right?”

You cough, your lungs are burning with wrongly swallowed saliva, and the recent asphyxiation you had. Cocking your head to the side, you startle when he suddenly leans in near, pinching your cheeks between two fingers and drawing you near him.

“Answer me, y/l/n-chan.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeak, swollen lips trembling and your breathing hitching as you shiver. There was a fire in his eyes, a type of lust-fueled rage that made your skin tingle and crawl in the sweetest of ways. “I’m here to service Kaibara-sama.”

“Then why are you trying to relieve yourself?” he snaps, face so near you want to kiss him, and you whimper because his scolding and humiliation do nothing to ease the fire in your cunt… it only ravages it, letting it fester into a raging wildfire. “You’re here for me, your master, so fuck me — focus on just me.”

“Yes, Kaibara-sama!” you shiver, body tingling as you reclaim his cock in your mouth.

And unlike before, where Kaibara merely sounded like a man who was feasting upon the food of the gods, he sits up straighter, more commanding, a man who sat in his chair knowing his worth. He took on the deception of a master.

“Hold my dick with your hands,” Kaibara grunts, hands fisting the hair at the nape of your neck and forcing your head to tilt up towards him. “I can’t trust you.”

You nodded your head, hands coming up to hold onto the base of his cock that your mouth couldn’t take in. You were fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks doing all it could to please your master. You sucked his dick with the intention of promising him that you were worth it, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you wanted to consume.

“Such a good sluttly little maid,” Kaibara praised and degraded. His hands tighten almost painfully in your hair. “Taking my big cock so easily... Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing on other men.”

You make a noise that screams no.

You would never!

“Oh, no?” Kaibara grunts, his tongue licking out past his lips, and you shudder under his gaze. “Did my slutty fucking maid keep her mouth clean for me?”

You whine in approval, your lungs burning as he keeps you still on his cock, eyes deceivingly angry.

“Good… that just means I’ll have to fuck your whore pussy so good you’ll never ask or seek a  new master,” Kaibara grinned, and your eyes widened. 

It happened so fast, you were on the ground one second, and in the next, he had you pinned with your back against the table. It was almost uncomfortable, the edge of the table pressing into your spine, and your hands scrambled to latch onto his shirt as his jeans fell to his knees and his hands gripped the top of your maid outfit down, exposing your naked breasts. 

His hands found a place on your breasts, warm and calloused fingers moving against smooth, soft skin. You moaned loudly, hips twitching unconsciously as he brushed against the swell of your nipple. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kaibara groaned, fingers pinching roughly against your skin, and you warbled a scream. It wasn’t painful; it was pleasurable. Your head swam in a way it never had before when you had serviced other men, your clit was throbbing with an increase of needed attention, and your voice keened with his praise. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you — wanted this. I wanna make you feel so good, let your master fuck you however I want, y/l/n, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You nod your head, words failing you, and you watched Kaibara let out a heavy stream of air out of his nose, a near perverted, happy grin on his face.

“Say it.”

“Fuck me, Kaibara-sama,” you whisper, hands fisting into his shirt. “Ruin me. Claim me. Make me yours.”

His eyes flash dangerously.

“You were never not mine.”

And with a hand looping underneath your knee and with the sudden shove on your shoulder to knock you back, Kaibara pressed his cock against your wet, sopping entrance and shoved into you. You scream loudly, hands digging into his back as his cock enters you, unforgiving and demanding. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his hips as you shudder and shake, body twitching under the dull, hot stretch of him in you, your body sweating with the consuming heat and pleasure that his entrance gives you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you squeal, fingernails digging into his skin, face burying into his neck. “Kaibara-sama is so big, he’s stretching me out so much, I’m— I can’t—”

Kaibara clicks his tongue, his nose nuzzling into your cheek, “Don’t say that, y/l/n-chan. Don’t ever tell your master that you can’t. You can do anything so long as I ask of it, right? I don’t like the word can’t.”

You whimper, head nodding in understanding as you shift your hips partly for needed friction, partly for relief. 

“Stop that,” Kaibara orders, hands suddenly on your hips, preventing you from moving. “Ask permission from your master if you can move. You are here to serve me; you are not here for yourself. Do you understand?”

Your breathing is heavy, your legs shaking as you nod, breathlessly saying that you agree even though you need relief. You need to please your master; you have to make sure he continues to want your service: just you, no one else.

“Good girl,” he praises and somehow pushes even further into you.

You moan loudly at the movement, fingers digging into his skin yet again, and Kaibara laughed, teeth nipping at your collarbone. Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single happy noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“So tight, so hot,” Kaibara groans, his teeth dragging up and down your neck as his hips roll back and thrust back into you at his own pace. It’s steady, slow almost—a steady beat like a subtle heartbeat that kept you sane. “Don’t be quiet… I want to hear what I do to you; I want everyone to hear what I do to you.”

And a hand pinches your clit at the same time he slams roughly, with tremendous strength into you, and you wail.

It’s as if that wail was a starting sound, the sound that told Kaibara that he was in the clear to do whatever he wanted. To fuck you as he deemed, to make you fulfill your duty to providing and exceeding his every need and demand. He fucked into you, each snap of his hip, every roll, sending loud slaps through the room. The table creaked and shifted with every advancing move, and you rolled your hips up, fucking back into him, desperate to make his breath hitch and hiss in pleasure. His teeth buried into your skin, sucking and nibbling marks onto your skin, subtle and near bloody marks to show the world that you were his.

“Kaibara-sama!” you scream at a particular thrust, back arching wildly, eyes slamming shut as you moan to the heavens. “Kiss me please! Please kiss me—”

Kaibara’s mouth was over yours immediately. You cried into his mouth, shuddering and shaking as he continued his maddening dance with you, the endless, exciting cycle of tingling sensations and exploding warmth. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of him, iron, and sweat. You moan louder, your velvet walls clenching and milking against his length. You don’t want to ever pull out; you want him, his seed, everything.

He kisses you like a madman, someone who believed that if he stopped, he would die.

You eat it up, returning it in full, unable to even believe you want him to stop. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” Kaibara pants, hands coming back down to your hips and keeping them in place as he suddenly, powerfully, and somehow rhythmically pounding into you in short, strong fucks. 

It’s overwhelming, the feeling of his girth stretching you out and abandoning you so quickly, the way his tip licks against your cervix, teasing up against your sweet spot. His face is desperate, needing, and so powerful that you cry to him, your master, your god. Your pussy is soaked with your essence, the sex spilling it all-around your thighs and on him, the wet squelching pounding making you embarrassed and so much more turned on. His teeth sink into your jaw, and your body is begging, twitching, the heat in your stomach overwhelming and no longer building but waiting for it to be unleashed. 

“K-Kaibara-sama!” you cry, a warning for the near-inevitable.

But you wail his name, the electricity in your veins and blood scorching the levels of your skin, and Kaibara takes that as a reason to do more, to fuck more. He drills into you at a new speed, a new power. Your head is swimming in the delirium, and your body trembles, the words “more, faster, harder” spilling from your mouth without consent, but tears build in your eyes as his fingers seem to almost spin against your clit and you scream.

You cum loudly, aggressively, all your energy destroyed as you hit the high. Kaibara moans against your bruised and marked skin; the warmth heat of spilling seed expelling into your cunt is a sensation that drives you insane as he collapses his weight on top of you. You’re breathless, speechless, a part of you unable to comprehend that your crush had fucked you before he had kissed you, that he was the best fuck you had, and how this man wanted you back.

It’s quiet for a bit, the two of you laying on the table as cum dripped out of your cunt, and he rested his head between your exposed breasts.

“So,” you finally rasp, a soft grin coming onto your face. “You have my charger?”

-

“18000 yen?!” Kaibara barked, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the older lady at the counter who was billing him for his session.

“We are a sex club, Kaibara-sama,” she sighed. “Not only did you have a three-hour session with our most requested maid, but you also marked the merchandise.”

“I couldn’t?!” Kaibara snapped but cooled down almost immediately when the lady pointed at a: ‘Fines for every mark on the maids!!!!’ sign. “Oh.”

“Take it from my paycheck,” you sing from beside him, bundled up in a coat, the marks he gave you completely hidden now. It was the end of your shift and closing time, after all. “I got him riled up without telling him the rules.”

Kaibara chuckled as you arranged a proper check for him.

He thought about what he thought of his life, and while he couldn’t say that his life wasn’t a hentai right now, he knew, without a doubt, that life is not a shoujo manga.

[tracybirds]

I was very determined to finish something today :D Yo all knw I’m back in lockdown which like... bro every time I try to write a thing that seems to happen so I’m snowed under again......................... Anyway, decided to finish up the exhausted Virg fic I began on Friday the 13th of August and how has it nearly been a month of lockdown already?? anyway I’m reposting the first bit with this, but wanted to say thank you to everyone who left comments on that snippet and encouraged me!! And big thanks to @gumnut-logic who read the first, slightly sleep-deprived first version of this before it underwent edits

It’s 11:30pm, my brain is no longer functioning, anyways, enjoy <3

 --------------

Virgil drags his leaden feet across the floor, still pink from the hot water, barely acknowledging Scott and Alan, chatting lightly together as he walks past them.

He’s not ready to sleep, but he’s not much good for anything else either.

He’s tired from the ground up. The exhaustion is only in his feet, his calves, his thighs, but it reaches up into his mind all the same. His shoulders ache, but it’s from good work and kind deeds, a balm for any residual overthinking.

He did good today, he knows it, can feel it in every torn muscle fibre.

He’ll just rest for a moment or two. Debrief can wait. John’s probably already written up most of the report.

He collapses onto the nearest sofa, but it’s more muscle memory than aim that lands him safely amongst the cushions.

“Cannonball!” crows a voice from somewhere above him, followed by a sharp yell of “Gordon, no!” and a crash that reverberated through his skull.

Then it hits him, and he launches himself sideways.

Gordon dives onto the sofa, arms and smile wide, as though he hadn’t just come off the same seven-hour mission plus bonus two-hour administrative argument with the nearest hospital who had just had their landscaping done.

And now, incidentally, redone.

Virgil glares from the floor.

“How’s it going, V?” Gordon says, still grinning.

“Ow.”

“Did you fall off the couch? You’ve gotta be careful about these things, you know.”

Short, sharp, monosyllabic words might be enough to fend off some lower forms of life, but Gordon is rather like moss, clinging to hard rock. Virgil opts to ignore him instead as he picks himself up with a groan.

A strong, sure hand grasps his arm and he accepts the extra leverage gladly, hauling his stiff muscles upright and stretching them carefully. He can see the chair Scott had leapt from halfway across the room. Alan isn’t even pretending he’s not laughing, the jerk.

Gordon is nestling, smirking as he burrows down into his cushions.

“Let it go,” he mutters, his hand now resting on Scott’s shoulder. He can’t handle a shouting match now, jackhammering into his brain after a day filled with enough pain.

Scott settles for pulling the cushions from under Gordon’s head and he falls back onto the hard frame with a squawk.

Alan’s laughter erupts again and Virgil doesn’t bother to smother his own smile.

Gordon sits up and his eyes are shining.

“Fine, fine, I deserved that,” he says, grinning up at Scott. “Now, get lost and put the large lump to bed, I checked the stats. There’s fifteen miles registered on his pedometer and he basically hauled three tons today.”

“Not all at once, Gordon, stop exaggerating.”

Gordon shrugs.

“I know the medical studies as well as you do. Sure, they might not think rescue work counts as overtraining, but science doesn’t lie.”

“But, people do,” Virgil says, scowling at him. Each word ripped more energy from his depleted stores. “And I was resting, thanks.”

Gordon lifts a finger, waggling it with a half-smile.

“A couch isn’t a substitute for a bed,” he says, dropping his voice to mimic Virgil’s own. “How many times did you say that to me?”

“When you had a broken back!”

“Right, that’s enough.” Scott steps forward between the bickering brothers. “Decompression time for you both.”

Virgil blinks, realising that he was stooping to an argument with Gordon. Gordon, who always fought dirty, twisting intent and laughing in a way he never could manage. He must be tired.

“Virgil, can you get up to your rooms alone?”

“Yeah,” he says, holding himself upright against the sudden wave of exhaustion. It was as though in remembering he was meant to be tired, his body had decided to lean into that realisation.

“And Gordon…” Scott pauses, eyeing Gordon who was still fairly vibrating with energy even after nine hours in the field. “Go watch a fish or something. Just stay away from each other.”

Virgil is already halfway out the door and his ears have been stoppered by weariness, the external world becoming fuzzy. He doesn’t hear Gordon’s quick reply.

He doesn’t hear Alan’s sharp cry either, doesn’t even register the way the world is tilting sideways.

He merely crumples on the floor in the hallway.

***

Virgil wakes slowly, awareness seeping into his bones and spreading outwards. His neck is propped up at an awkward angle; he’s resting on the pillows that he rearranges around him every night and they are much too high.

He moans a little as he shuffles, his neck creaking as it falls back in alignment with his spine.

The gulls call from outside his window, a high and keening cry. He can hear the light whistles of forest bird. The low murmur of voices unable to pierce the early fog of morning.

He doesn’t remember making it to his bed, but nor does he intend to rise from it.

 He wants to cling to slumber, doesn’t want to make conversation or move. But he’s already lost the game of sleep and settles for burrowing further into the light cotton comforter that had seen him through every summer of his life.

A rough hand on his shoulder greets him instead and he groans a warning as it flips him onto his back.

“Come on, Virgil, we know you’re awake.”

The voice floats down from above him. He grumbles deeply, unintelligibly, and turns his back on the inhumanity of it all.

A sharp poke pierces his clouded thoughts and Virgil growled as he opened one bleary eye.

“What?”

“Gentlemen, he lives,” crows Gordon, arms wide and ready to receive undying adoration for his proclamation.

“It’s been fourteen hours,” Scott says, grimly. “Time for a check-up.”

Virgil wonders at that. Fourteen hours of sleep, while rare in their home, was hardly reason for medical concern. He suspects though, that Scott already knows this, and doesn’t resist for fear that he’ll be forced to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed.

“The air’s stale in here,” he says instead. “I don’t sleep with my windows shut.”

“Arm,” orders Scott, and Virgil lifts it automatically, puzzling over his last memories which certainly don’t involve him shutting his windows. Or entering his room for that matter.

“I fell asleep?” he asks, suddenly.

“Right in the hall,” Gordon says, his eyes dancing with half checked laughter. “You went down like a ton of bricks.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Scott’s manner is terse, his shoulders tight and the deep crease between his eyes growing as he turns to glare at Gordon. “He could have seriously hurt himself.”

“He didn’t though.” He whips around to face Virgil. “And you’re welcome, by the way. I convinced Scott to let us put you here instead of the infirmary. Even woke John up to back me. I risked the wrath of John for you, he said you were physically fine otherwise you’d be waking in that cold infirmary and Scott would have a back spasm from sleeping in those terrible chairs. All for nothing too because you’re fine.”

Virgil stares at him.

He wants to argue with Gordon, the necessity of rules made for their safety niggling at the back of his brain. He wants to roll his eyes, tell him that the infirmary beds aren’t that painful, that the fluorescent lights that blink and buzz might be made for suturing and not sleeping but that they held their own kind of relief, of comfort.

He wants to thank him, for giving him this moment where he could wake slowly to the sounds of birdsong and crashing waves, unheard in the depths of the island. For that moment where he could lay still as the sun streamed in with warmth and good cheer.

He has a thesis of carefully memorised protocols warring with pure sensation of soft coziness and the luxury of a brother who loves him.

He isn’t sure which instinct is winning when he opens his mouth.

“You made me sleep on two pillows.”

The room blurs as the soft mound beneath his head is ripped away at lightning speed. Virgil hardly has time to hear the whirl of rushing air before the pillow connects with his head with a dull thud.

Gordon jabs at his arm.

“No appreciation, I tell you.”

“Gordon! Out!”

Virgil throws the offending pillow after him, chuckling at the sharp laughter that pierced the slammed door.

Scott isn’t smiling.

He pulls the sphygmomanometer tight around Virgil’s arm.

Virgil winces slightly, but says nothing. Not yet.

Scott’s movements are precise and ordered, with nothing to suggest he isn’t conducting a normal check-up at all.

But Virgil knows his brother.

“Hey,” he says softly, watching Scott stare at the dial. “I really am okay.”

Scott’s not listening to the blood pounding through his arteries, not even in pretence. Still, he ignores Virgil and pulls up a new medical report so he can stare intently at that in place of his brother’s gentle eyes.

“Scott,” says Virgil, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scott shoves it away, his eyes snapping to Virgil’s.

“Why didn’t you call for backup?”

“You were off duty.”

“I don’t mean me,” Scott growls. “I mean, I do, I would’ve been there in a heartbeat if you’d asked. But you didn’t, did you? Not even Alan. Not even John.”

“John was helping,” says Virgil, sharply. “Just because he wasn’t on the ground, doesn’t mean he wasn’t working that same stretch of time. Why do you think Gordon had to wake him?”

“Stop side-stepping my point,” snaps Scott. “We’re a team, Virgil, you can’t work yourself to the point of exhaustion like that.”

“What choice did I have?”

“I should’ve been there, I could’ve-” began Scott, but Virgil merely raised his own voice.

“You couldn’t, Scott. What you’re angry about, I could turn right around and parrot back, you know. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

He fell back against the headboard, wishing he hadn’t woken up. Or at least that he wasn’t having this argument, not here and now.

And he recognises those eyes, the burning frustration at one’s own limitations and the rising fear for a brother mixed with torn compassion and understanding.

He’s mirrored Scott all his life, and it’s startling to see his own familiar expression on Scott’s face.

“Please, Virgil.”

He doesn’t say anything. He can’t make that kind of promise to Scott any more than Scott could to him. Not without breaking it.

Scott smiles sadly as he stands, accepting the silence.

He knows.

“Don’t even think about moving from this room for the next twenty-four hours. Just... get some rest, will you, Virg?”

He thinks he will.

[not-the-teen-witch]

Daddy Issues Lucius Malfoy x Daughter! Reader

Tiktok has done its magic and my obsession with Lucius Malfoy has sparked. Or it might just be my daddy issues acting up again, who know lol. Anyways, reader is Draco’s twin, a Gryffindor, and is basically the Sirius Black of the Malfoy family. She/her pronouns used. No warnings. Though you should know this is my first fanfic after going MIA on Wattpad and Quotev for a few years whoopsies.

Takes place over the course of first year. Listen to “Daddy Issues” by the Neighbourhood while reading to set the mood. 

I might make this into a multiple part story. But not follow the scenes strictly, just random drabbles here and there?? Idk, hopefully this won’t flop lol.

Daddy Issues

You ask me what I'm thinking about I'll tell you that I'm thinking about Whatever you're thinking about Tell me something that I'll forget And you might have to tell me again It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

“Now, Y/N. Just like your brother did it. Just run straight through that brick wall, and you’ve made.” Your mother, Narcissa, says gently patting you on the back to motivate you.

You bit your lips to hide your nerves. Straight through it, huh? Oh, merlin. What if it decides I’m not good enough for it. I’ll surely make a fool out of myself. 

You grip tightly around your trolley, “Are you sur-”

“We don’t have all day now, darling. The train leaves at eleven, sharp. Enough twisting with your thumbs and get a move on.” Your father cuts you off. 

You grimace. Your relationship with your father, the oh so great Lucius Malfoy, wasn’t the best, at least at the moment. Don’t get it wrong, you’re his precious baby girl, the absolute apple of his eye, but you have a few, in his words, tweaks in your personality that his purist mindset just did not share.  

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I love that you got daddy issues And I do too

It began when you received your Hogwarts letter on your 11th birthday earlier that summer.

“Dad! I got my letter!” You say, racing down the steps of the Malfoy Manner to see your father.

He replies from his study room with a, “Don’t run, you’ll fall, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, always so overprotective. When you reach him you wave the letter in front of him, “Look! I finally got it!”

He stops reading his book and looks up, all while shifting from his area on the velvet green armchair to make room for you. You immediately take a seat in the small space. 

“Let’s see what we have here now, shall?” You nod your head at him as he opens the letter. “Ah yes, Hogwarts. Truly shocking how they want someone with the likes of you on their grounds.”

He has a twinkly in his eye when he says this. You know he’s joking though, that’s just the interactions between you two. 

You grab his face with your hands to get his attention, “Are you going to miss me?”

“Miss you? My own and only daughter who wakes up every morning with a mission to have my hair turn grey early. Miss you, you say?”

“Dad,” you groan.

He hides a smirk, “Happy birthday, my dear. You’ll make a wonderful Slytherin and teach those mudbloods who’s in charge.” 

About that..... “Dad, no.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Stop that, don’t call them mudbloods. And what makes you so sure I’ll be put in Slytherin?”

“Ha,” he lets out a bark of laughter. “There’s never been a Malfoy that fit in any other house. That’s absurd.” 

I tried to write your name in the rain But the rain never came So I made with the sun The shame always comes at the worst time

You look down.

“Y/N.” You look back at your father. 

His grey eyes that mirror yours perfectly, look at you coldly “Don’t bring shame to the Malfoy family. Remember that.” 

You ask me what I'm thinking about I'll tell you that I'm thinking about Whatever you're thinking about Tell me something that I'll forget And you might have to tell me again It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

“Make me proud.” Your father says, right before you enter the train. 

He flashes you one of his rare, genuine smiles and kisses you on the forehead. 

You heard him, Y/N. Make father proud. 

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you

You find the first empty compartment you see on the train. Your brother already went off with some of the other pureblood children. And you’re not exactly fond of them. 

There’s a boy with glasses and another with red hair when you enter. 

“Ehm, hi...” You awkwardly say. 

The boy with glasses smiles at you. “Hi there.” 

“Would it be alright if I sat here?” 

“Sure, take a seat.” 

I know that you got daddy issues And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I love that you got daddy issues

You learn the two boys you sat with were Harry Potter and a Weasley named Ron. They were charming, although you were sure your father would disagree. Luckily you didn’t tell them your last name. Who knows what outburst that’d cause from the redhead. 

You stand next to them as students get called up to get sorted.

Your stomach feels like it’s being shaken by mountain trolls and you try to control your breathing.

“GRYFFINDOR”

“RAVENCLAW” 

“HUFFLEPUFF” 

The sorting hat continues to call out the names of the houses as the students go up, one by one. 

Your twin gets called. 

Just as Draco takes a seat, the hat doesn’t even touch his head when it yells-

“SLYTHERIN” 

Draco has a look of pride on his face. Typical. 

“As expected,” mutters Ron to you and Harry. 

“Y/N Malfoy” 

Oh dear. Your turn.

“ -wait you’re his twin?” Harry look sat you confused.

You see your twin brother flash you a thumbs up.

You ignore them both and step forward. 

“Another Malfoy I see. But you’re more interesting than the rest. Unexpected. Ambitious? Yes, very much so but there’s also bravery. Lots of it too.” The sorting hat says.

No! You’re yelling in your head. Bravery? That’s Gryffindor. Please no. Father would disown me. 

“Slytherin then? No, no no. Tell daddy he’s in for a surprise because Slytherin not fit for you. You fit in-” 

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat exclaims.

The whole hall murmurs. “A Malfoy? Not in Slytherin?” “Gryffindor? Merlin, someone alert the Daily Prophet.” 

You get nudged towards the Gryffindor table, slowly you make your way.

 You hear a voice, “Well Fred, you know what this means.”

“I sure do, George.”

“WE GOT A MALFOY! WE GOT A MALFOY!” They chant and slowly the rest of the table begins to cheer loudly. The Slytherin’s table watches in awe. 

Your brother refuses to make eye contact with you. Your stomach drop at that.

I keep on tryin' to let you go I'm dyin' to let you know How I'm getting on I didn't cry when you left at first But now that you're dead, it hurts This time, I gotta know Where did my daddy go?

“First years! Follow me!” 

You begin to line up with the other first years. You stand near Ron and Harry. Ron gives you a suspicious look.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out. “I should have told you I’m a Malfoy.”

“You really shou-” Ron begins to say.

“No, it’s alright.” Says Harry. “You had your reasonings. Besides the point” he give Ron a sharp look, “You’re in Gryffindor now, that’s all that matters.”

“All that matters?” Uh oh, it’s your brother. “Wait until father hears about this. He’ll be mortified. You can kiss your spot on the family tree goodbye Y/N.” He looks disgusted at you.

“Leave her alone!” A first year girl with puffy hair and large teeth says. 

“And what are you going to do about it, mudblood.”

That sits off a rage off anger in you. 

“Oh shut it you prick!” Your brother looks at you, shocked. “I’ve had enough with your bigotry. Go ahead, tell father. We all know how much you want to be his favorite child, you kiss up!” You let out a angry sigh at that. 

“Well then, keep an eye out for a letter tomorrow morning by him. How does a Howler sound?” 

The girl with the puffy hair grabs your arm. “Come on”

“You know, I think you and I will get along just great.” 

I'm not entirely here Half of me has disappeared

It had been a few days since the sorting ceremony. Classes were already in full swing. 

You became very close friends with Hermione Granger, the girl who helped you out when your brother was acting like a complete, wild ferret. However, you and her got along quite well. You two had similar interests and were very dedicated in your classes. Granted you knew a bit more than her since you were taught were carefully by your father.

Speaking of father, you haven’t heard from him yet. But there’s no doubt in your mind that Draco hasn’t sent a letter yet. 

You shake out of your thought and make your way to the great hall. You spot the Weasleys and Harry and make a bee-line to them. 

“Hey there, mate!” One of the twins nod in your direction. 

“No mail yet?” You immediately ask the lot.

“Blimey, at least eat something first before you start interrogating us.” Ron mumbles, his cheeks filled with food. 

Harry shakes his head, “Not yet, expecting a letter?” 

“You could say that.” You groan.

You grab a piece of toast and spread butter over it when you hear the sounds of the owls flying into the great hall. You quickly scan them over, keeping your eyes peeled for any Malfoy family owls.

You look over to your twin, an owl drops a package of goodies. Must be from mother, you think bitterly in your head. You didn’t get a package. 

The thought makes your stomach drop. They must know then.

“Huh, would you look at that. It’s a howler!” Percy Weasley points out.

The twins glace at you.

“Y/N....” One of the twins begin to say.

The howler drops right in front of you. Oh grandfather Abraxas, please help me.

In fancy calligraphy that you recognize very well, the name Lucius Malfoy is written. 

“So... are you going to open that?” George asks with an eyebrow raised.

“The longer you wait, the louder it’ll be. But hey this is Lucius Malfoy so you don’t really have much luck any way.” Fred jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

You hands shake as you hold it, “Should- should i open it?” 

“It’s going to burst any second, no need for that.�� Harry look bewildered.

“Oh to hell with it.“ You open the letter. 

“Y/N NARCISSA MALFOY!” Your father’s voice booms, the great hall quiets down to listen in. “A GRYFFINDOR?? NEVER IN THE MALFOY FAMILY NAME HAS THIS HAPPENED BEFORE. A BLOOD TRAITOR IS WHAT YOU ARE. IT DISGUSTS ME TO CALL YOU A CHILD OF MINE.”

Your face turns an unnatural shade of red but the howler continues in a calmer voice. “My own child, my little girl. Tarnishing the family name like this. Absurd. Don’t even think about coming home this winter. And enjoying the company of Mudbloods and other blood traitors? Tsk, a shame. Such a great shame. Don’t bother sending any letters, they will immediately be discarded of.” 

The letter explodes and the only evidence that it even happened it the looks of pity you getting from the three other houses. The Slytherin table is bursting with laughter. 

“Ignore them Y/N. Not worth your time. The Slytherin gits and your father. If you could even call a man like that a dad.” Ron shakes his head.

You catch your brother’s eyes, he has a soft, sad look but quickly switches when he catches you looking. 

“Did you bloody hear that? I could never be such an embarrassment to the wizarding name.” Your brother boasts. 

Your friends try to divert your attention but all you can think of is your dad. 

No. Don’t be sad Y/N, you say to yourself. You’re meant to be a Gryffindor, and you’ll prove daddy wrong. Right? You’re a Malfoy after all. 

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues

[shesawriter39049]

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now!  Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students. 

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid  sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright  baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!” 

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is- 

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell  just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now. 

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with. 

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood  immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn  enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi.  A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert. 

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans  head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck”  You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck!  Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well.  “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno,  you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K...  “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that”  You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household.  So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!  

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and  he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her  to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans.  “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

[fandom-strumpet]

Game Night Confession Part 3

Summary: You and Kai are ready to take your relationship a step further. Turning over a new leaf comes with some consequences though and trouble strikes the town.

Word Count: 3,364 (Its a long one folks)

Warnings: Swearing, temporary character deaths, angst, basic TVD violence

You and Kai had been dating for a few months now and you were ready to ask him the question. You both were close enough now in your relationship anyway with the apartment so there were no more noise complaints from Elena or the Salvatores. Not that they had much room to judge. Kai was in the kitchen making breakfast and he greeted you over his shoulder when you made the floorboards creak in the hallway.

"Morning baby girl, I made breakfast. Figured I'd surprise you and let you sleep in."

"Awww thanks, it smells delicious," you gave him a hug from behind and snatched a piece of bacon off the plate. "Mmmm," you moaned, bacon was truly a gift from heaven.

Kai looked over at you and grinned, "I'm glad you like it."

Kai absolutely loved making you happy. Knowing this gave you confidence in asking him for things and having heavy conversations. You loved him more than anything and he, you.

"Kai?" he raised his eyebrows, encouraging you to continue your question.

"Will you turn me?"

"You know I already love turning you, but maybe not with pancakes on the stove," he winked playfully.

"That's not what I meant," you giggled and ran your hand up his arm onto his bare chest, "Will you turn me?"

Kai froze, the pancake sizzling after just being turned over.

"Pleeeeease," you stuck your lip out, batting your puppy eyes at him.

He stood for a moment, his lips pursed. "Yes."

"EEEEK!" You squealed.

"But-"

You stopped squealing, you knew there would be something he demanded in return and you were ready to give him whatever he wanted.

"I want to surprise you when I kill you. I'll give you my blood but I won't tell you when or where, it'll be fun. I promise it won't be anything too painful. It will be quick." You felt nervous for a second but pure euphoria overtook the feeling in a heartbeat as you realized just how close you were to spending eternity with the love of your life.

"So for almost 24 hours you're going to let me live with the anxiety and suspense of dying unexpectedly?"

"Yep," he tilted his head studying your reaction to his proposal.

"Alright." you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Mmmmmmm" he hummed against your lips, breaking the kiss with a smile, "Is my baby ready for breakfast?"

You bit your lip trying to contain the joy screaming through your veins, "Yes! And thank you babe, for breakfast and for saying yes."

"Anything for my baby girl," he winked and set the plates of food down on the table. You blushed, hearing him call you baby girl always sent butterflies into your stomach. The nickname would never get old and you absolutely loved it. There was an excellent mood in the atmosphere as you both finished off breakfast. He cut his hand open and squeezed blood into a glass cup for you. The fluid looked so beautiful in the sunlight ad you grabbed the cup slowly, taking in what was about to happen. Raising the glass to your lips you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the iron flavored drink enter your body. Kai admired how fragile and beautiful you looked sitting there drinking his blood. It was weirdly attractive to see you like this. Standing up you head over to the bedroom doorway and look back with a devious smile.

"I'm going to shower, care to join?"

"Love to." Kai grinned back with lustful eyes.

--------Later at Lunch--------

"Y/N you can't be serious! This is not a life you want." Elena harshly whispered in the restaurant.

"I think it would be interesting to see you as a vampire," Damon said cooly but changed his tone and sat up when Elena shot him a glare, "Elena has a point though." He pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulder as a make-shift apology.

"Come on Damon, weren't you the least bit excited when Elena became a vampire so you could spend eternity together?" The couple looked at each other but remained silent.

"I think it's a good idea and I support you," Caroline stated. Elena's jaw dropped upon hearing Caroline of all people support you on this decision.

"Thank you Care! Thank you!" you leaned over and wrapped your arms around her in a hug. Caroline rested her chin on your head, "But Y/N?"

You looked up as she continued, "Just be careful okay?"

"I am, I know what I'm doing. Now all of you know not to be surprised if Kai kills me while I'm with you."

"Whatever." Elena mumbled and shook her head sliding out of the booth. Damon followed her lead but gave you a quick thumbs up and wink before disappearing. You were so excited, nobody could or should ever feel this way about being killed but to you it meant something different. Dear god, am I a psychopath for wanting this?

Stepping out of the grill, an arm wrapped around your throat and pulled you back. Instinct kicking in, your hands flew to grip the arm. You recognized the fabric and felt relief knowing what would soon be happening. Caroline looked on with a look of concern and possibly disgust on her face. With one swift movement his hand was on the side of your head and the world went black.

You woke up on the sofa in your apartment. Your head pounded, your lips felt cracked and your throat hurt like you hadn't drank anything in days.

"Good Morning sunshine," Kai grinned hopping off the barstool. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple blood bags. "Here, drink up. You need it."

You fumbled and opened the blood bag as swiftly as you could. You could feel the black veins on your face appear. Downing the first bag in a minute you ripped open the second one and wolfed it down as well. You gave a sigh of relief as the headache and pain faded away. You must have been out for a couple hours, based on the amount of sunlight making its way in. It was almost sunset.

"Better?"

"Much." You smiled, everything felt so much more heightened. Tears started to fall down your face, "Oh Kai..."

Kai's face scrunched up in concern, "What is it baby girl?"

"I love you so much," you sobbed.

Relief crossed his face as he understood what was happening. "Your emotions are heightened right now with the change but soon you'll have them under control."

You nodded and leaned forward to hug Kai's waist who was now standing over you. His arms wrapped around you and he rubbed your back which he knew always helped calm you down. His hand traveled to your chin to tilt it up so you were looking at him.

"Baby?" he wiped the last tear off your cheek/

"Yes?" you whimpered.

"How about we go out and celebrate tonight?" your brows furrowed at his proposal. Kai noticing your look continued, "I don't mean let's go and feed off people, I mean let's celebrate and go out to eat." He tilted his head waiting for your reaction.

You stood and wrapped your arms around his neck, "Yes! Yes I would love that!"

"Good," Kai smacked your butt, "Now go get ready princess."

Kai watched you skip off to the bedroom and smiled, his heart soaring at being able to spend forever with you.

-----------Later that Night-------------

You were so angry, you could hear the bartender's heart pounding and her blood, delicious blood coursing through her veins as she continued to beam at Kai. You glared and cleared your throat, catching the blonde's attention. Upon catching your look she huffed and turned away to check on another attractive brunet down the row. Kai turned and studied your face bemusedly.

"What?" you tried to shake off the look but it was too late.

"Are you- jealous?" he smirked.

"Ugh, I- I am not jealous. I just need some air."

Kai cocked an eyebrow, "O-kay."

Stepping into the alleyway you took a big swallow of the cool night air. It was only 8 but it already felt so late. You started to pace, taking your frustration out on the trash.

"I am not jealous, especially of some stupid blonde," you grunted and kicked a bottle hard sending it smashing against a brick wall. The back door of the bar opened and you jumped, expecting someone to come out yelling about the racket. Instead the blonde bartender stepped out a little too coolly, moving almost mechanically.

"What are you doing here?" you snapped.

"I don't know. This guy told me to come out here and for some reason I listened." She looked puzzled and your curiosity started to grow.

"Was it the guy I was with?"

"No. It was some other guy."

"What else did this guy say?" You inquired, allowing yourself to walk closer and closer to her.

"He told me not to scream." The girls voice trembled with this sentence.

Dear god. She had the most beautiful throat, you don't know how you missed it before. If only you could have a taste. No. You promised Caroline to be careful, you were a new vampire with limited restraint. You wanted to kill her. With every fiber of your being you wanted to drink her body dry. Almost as if she were reading your mind she tilted her head, moving her hair and exposing her neck more. Slowly she took a knife out of her apron and brought it to her throat.

"No! Don-"

But your plea was cut short when you saw the bright red liquid start to dribble down. You could feel your eyes change and teeth pop out. With a hiss you lunged toward her, sinking your fangs into her warm beating flesh. After drinking for so long, you entered an almost drunk like state. Stumbling back to your apartment, you manage to shower and clean yourself up, tossing the dirty clothes in the trash before finally passing out in bed.

Meanwhile back in the alleyway, Kai storms out looking for you.

"Y/N?" He stops walking when his shoes squelch. "Oh shit..." He looks down to see the dead blonde bartender from earlier, blood surrounding her neck which looked like it had been sloppily torn open. Black veins appear under his eyes and he looks up fast, taking a sharp breath in. After gaining control of himself, he covers his mouth and nose with his shirt diving in to clean up the mess you made.

"They're going to freak when they hear about this," he muttered, dragging the girl backwards down the alleyway.

You woke up with sunlight streaming onto your face making you groan and pull the sheets up.

"Good morning sleepy head." A husky voice drawled.

You froze, afraid to look at the guest in your home. "What are you doing here?" You asked, blanket muffling your question.

"Heard you had a wild one last night, just wanted to stop by and uhh ya know, check on my buddy."

Smiling painfully you pulled the blanket down to see Damon sitting on a chair across your room.

"I don't know what you mean."

Damon's fake smile disappeared and he frowned.

"Kai called last night after you 'stepped out for air' and he found a dead blonde in the alleyway."

You stifled a groan and he continued, "But that wasn't all, nooooo you had to go and continue the party of one around town."

"What?" Your nose wrinkled. You remembered drinking from the bartender and coming home, not going around town. "I did not do that Damon, you have to believe me."

"I don't." He snapped, "I believe your bloody clothes you half ass attempted to shove down the garbage disposal." He shook his head in disbelief.

You groaned and plopped your head back down onto the pillow.

"Alright, I drank blood from the blonde but I didn't hurt anyone else, I swear! I came right home and tried to clean up."

"You killed her, Y/N. There are three other dead people around town and you don't think that looks a little suspicious considering the circumstances?"

You paused, a look of grief sat on your face. The bedroom door opened and Stefan peered in, Kai leaning over his shoulder,

"Knock knock." Stefan called.

"Just go in Steven. Geez." Kai said exasperated, making you chuckle.

Damon's stern face cut your laugh short.

Stefan stepped in and turned to glare at Kai, "I don't know what Kai was thinking taking you out when you've just turned and still need to learn to control your bloodlust."

"I didn't kill all those people, you know." You cut in gravely.

Just then it dawned on you, the girl. You sat up quickly and grabbed your head in pain. It was like having a hangover with booze and blood. Ugh.

"Guys the bartender last night, she was acting weird."

"Yeah because death by vampire is a little weird." Damon rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm serious. The way she came out into the alleyway. Someone compelled her to come out, she said she wasn't allowed to scream and then she cut her own throat to get me to feed from her."

The Salvatore brothers stiffened and looked at each other.

"What? Do you two know something?" You looked between them frantically.

Stefan looked down and asked, "Did she say who compelled her?"

"Some guy in the bar but nothing else."

Damon ran his hand through his hair and blew out air, "I think we need to have a talk with someone."

Stefan nodded in agreement and in a flash, the Salvatore brothers had left your apartment. You looked pointedly at Kai who was now standing in the middle of your shared room. He shrugged his shoulder signaling to you that he had no idea what was going on. Huffing, you pushed yourself out of bed and walked past him to the kitchen. You needed a strong coffee for a day like this.

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

"ENZO!" Damon bellowed,

Stefan followed Damon into the boarding house, ready to acknowledge the guest who had been staying with them recently.

"Hello there." Enzo stepped out from the kitchen wiping his bloody hands.

Stefan raised his eyebrows at the sight and Damon cleared his throat.

"Oh- sorry about the mess I was just prepping dinner." He smiled innocently.

"Cut the crap Enzo." Damon snapped, Enzo's smile remained plastered on unnaturally.

"What's the matter, Damon? You look like you've had a very busy night."

Stefan stepped forward, "Come on, we know what you did. Stop stalling."

Throwing the towel down the vampire sped over to Stefan, "You know what I did huh?" He sneered.

"You lot have known how I feel about Y/N. Since the beginning and I thought by now you would have gotten rid of the Parker bastard. So what did you do mate?" He spit out.

Damon put his hand between Enzo's and Stefan's chests to calm them down. Enzo had been Damon's friend long ago and he was still willing to stick up for Enzo and give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay, but why frame Y/N for this?" Damon shook his head in question.

"If I can't have her, then Parker shouldn't either. She'll leave him when she realizes he can't help her. I'll just keep going until she breaks."

"We can't let you do this," Stefan started to grab Enzo's shirt when Enzo vampire sped behind him and snapped his neck.

"Now what? Are you going to try and stop me too?"

Damon bit his lip and grimaced at his words. Enzo had been in love with Y/N's doppelganger long ago. This fact that she was a doppelganger was unknown to her and the Salvatores had hoped to keep it that way. But with Enzo's new fury and determination to have her, things could be taking a turn for the worst. Without another word, Enzo stormed out of the house leaving a dead Stefan and a conflicted Damon. A few hours later Stefan woke up to find Damon sitting by the fireplace in his chair drinking his favorite bourbon.

"Augh" Stefan groaned, "Did you stop him?"

Damon remained stoic for a minute before responding, "No. I froze. He used to be my only friend." He swirled his drink looking down into it for answers.

"I get that he used to be your friend, I do. But we can't let him do this to Kai and Y/N. It's not fair. So you need to help me and our friends come up with a plan to stop him."

Damon furrowed his eyebrows and looked up, "Okay."

--------------At your apartment-----------

Enzo had been watching your apartment for a while now. Waiting for the man he so despised to leave and give you two time alone. At long last, Kai stepped out into the crisp night and headed off into the darkness. Waiting until he was clear out of sight, Enzo stepped out of his car adjusting his shirt and pulling the lively bouquet of flowers out.

"Ding dong," Enzo called out, knocking on your front door.

You creaked the door open slightly to see who it was, the door chain stopping you from opening it much further.

"Who are you?" You raised your eyebrow. Kai had told you not to let anyone in while he was out getting more blood bags.

"My name is Lorenzo St. John but you can call me Enzo." He smiled.

"Okay Enzo...And what brings you to my apartment?"

"Well darling, I thought it was time we were properly introduced. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Okay..." you said hesitantly. You closed the door to slide the latch over and opening it slowly, allowed Enzo to stride in like a gentleman.

"I brought you flowers," he held them out for you to grab.

You smiled at him with a curious look in your eyes, "Thanks. I'll go put these in a vase."

He followed you to the kitchen, looking around and taking in all that was your apartment. Digging around under the sink you finally found the curvy glass vase that you always wanted to use. Your anxiety started to build. Why is Kai taking so long? He should be back by now. Something about Enzo seemed off to you and you prayed that Kai would be home soon to help you deal with the charming stranger. You were itching to reach for you phone on the side table but knew that if Enzo suspected something was up then he might do something rash. Turning to face him you crossed your arms to find him seated comfortably at your table. A little too comfortably.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Do you have any blood bags, love?"

"No, sorry." You smiled weakly, "My boyfriend went out to get some more."

Enzo raised his eyebrows begrudgingly, of course you would mention your boyfriend. "I'll take a beer then."

"Sure thing." He rolled his eye as you turned to the fridge.

Speeding up behind you, he grabbed you around the throat and whispered, "Sorry about this, love." All went black.

When Kai arrived home he found the front door open. Panic rose in his chest as he yelled out for you.

"Y/N! Y/N?! Princess this isn't funny, where are you?"

Walking into the kitchen he found the fridge door wide open. He shoved the grocery bag full of blood bags in a shut it quickly. Speeding around, he checked the entire house but you were no where to be found. He ran his hands through his hair and that's when the vase caught his eye. A vase full of fresh flowers and a note attached.

For the most beautiful of all flowers and with much adoration,

Love, Enzo

Growling, Kai crumpled the note in his hand. He was going to rip this man to shreds when he found him. No one gets to take you from him. You were his and his alone.

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

@ellaoleck @rome5683 @sxturn-stars @1-800-khaleesii @imagine-that @genevivetaylor

[serendipityseulgi]

8 Ways of Love;

— park seonghwa

according to the ancient greeks, there are eight different types of love. here is:

･*:༅｡ the one known as pragma, the enduring love.

aka, the kind of love that matures and develops over a long period of time, and somewhat rare to find. 

8 ways of love series; version i

A love story that shows the progression of yours and seongwha’s relationship from the moment you two become friends, to lovers, to exes, and everything else in between. 

love catalyst: the subconscious.

At the age of six years old you declare Park Seonghwa to be your boyfriend, solidifying your “relationship” with a hug.

“Eww, y/n, you have cooties!” your best friend barks, pushing you off him.

“Wha- hey no I don’t!” you squeak.

“Yes you do because Mingi told all the boys not to touch the girls because they have a disease and it’s going to eat our bodies alive!” he practically screeches getting up from the sandbox about to walk away from you.

“Seonghwaaa he’s lying!” you whine out and he huffs turning around to face you.

“Well all the other boys are listening to him so he has to be right.” 

“Well I touched you yesterday when we were playing tag and you’re fine!” you defend. “And if all girls have cooties then how come your mommy still hugs and kisses you goodbye in the morning? Wouldn’t you be dead now?”

Even at the age of 6 you were the biggest smartass Seonghwa knew.

After a moment of deliberation, he sighs. “Okay fine, you’re right.” your friend huffs. 

“So are you gonna back so we can play again?” you ask, arms crossed over your little body. 

Seonghwa nods before grabbing onto your hand to drag you back into the sandbox. 

The two of you return to making your sandcastle and it’s only a mere two minutes later does your friend speak up.“Am I actually your boyfriend now?” he asks suddenly and you whip your head towards him.

“Well I hugged you so yeah.” you roll your eyes at him and his soft little laugh makes your tiny heart jump.

Within the next week you two forget you’re “boyfriend-and-girlfriend” and go back to being the best friends you’ve always been, playing in the sandbox after school, watching cartoons at your house, and never missing a single dinner together while your parents listen to the two of you talk your little heads off.

For the record, there wasn’t much of a difference in your so-called relationship and your friendship in the first place when you were just six years old.

 At thirteen years old, your best friend confesses he likes you.

“Okay I know this is weird because, I should see you as like, a sister or something, I don’t know!” Seonghwa rants, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you watch him frantically explain the way he feels about you.

“You know what I mean though? You’re like, practically family to me! Right? Right...” you figure he’s talking more to himself than to you as he asks himself questions that he’s quick to answer to. “Like you’re probably gonna think I’m weird or something, but you are my best friend and I don’t want it to be weird-”

“Seonghwa for the love of god can you just get to your point.” you interrupt impatiently.

“I like you okay?” he says quietly, avoiding all eye contact with you. 

His heart is beating so fast he feels like it’s actually going to rip right through his chest. He’s never been nervous around you ever. You’re his best friend, and you have been since you were 5 years old, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like you’re the only girl he wants in his life. 

When he hears you laughing at him his heart drops to his stomach and he braces himself for the upcoming rejection.

“Can you come sit next to me.” you ask, gesturing to the empty spot on your bed. 

Seonghwa complies, yet his anxiety is rising by the second. He has never been so nervous in all the thirteen years he’s been alive. He almost wants to vomit as his stomach churns at the thought of you telling him you didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re rejecting me aren’t you...” he sighs, plopping down onto the spot next to you.

You shake your head with a smile. “No idiot, I like you too. Obviously.” you roll your eyes at him.

“Wait, what? Seriously??” he almost goes into shock. “Are you joking?”

“I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious.” you shrug. “I was throwing subtle signs at you for the longest time.”

“Like what?!” 

“Like the time I kept pestering you to take me to the Valentine’s Day dance, and when I made you hold my hand during that scary movie when you know I never get scared of horror films. Oh, and the time you kept badgering me about why I rejected Hongjoong for no good reason. I kept telling you that you were the only guy I needed in my life and you were too oblivious to realize I didn’t mean it in the friend way anymore.” you chuckle.

“Oh... Oh,” Seonghwa realizes. “I really am oblivious then.”

“It’s okay, I already knew you liked me back anyways.” you smirk at him, grabbing your remote off the bedside table.

You flip the TV on as you feel Seonghwa’s heavy gaze on you. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asks you and you pause.

“I mean technically we never broke up when we were six so you’re basically just re-asking me out.” you tease, pulling the blankets on both your bodies as you settle on a show to watch.

“Oh god, you still remember that?” 

Of course you do. 

“Obviously, how could I forget you screaming to the entire park that I had cooties.” 

He laughs at that and you can’t help but smile widely hearing him. You both lay comfortably next to one another, watching intently at the show in front of you, yet both your minds were racing at the fact that officially, you could say you were boyfriend and girlfriend. 

“So when did you start liking me?” he asks you. 

“Honestly, I think I always did.” you answer truthfully. “But, like actually realizing my feelings for you?” you pause for a moment to think. “I think it was when you got really sick that one time and your parents were away for a business trip, and my mom made me drop off soup to your house. And I was only supposed to drop off the soup but I took care of you because even when you were all snotty and gross and barely awake to hang out with me, I kinda just realized I’d rather spend my time with you doing that than anywhere else.”

His eyes soften at you. “Aww.”

“Buuut then before that, there was also that time that Ashley told you she liked you and I got super jealous and I was actually going to shove her into a brick wall, so ...I kinda just figured...” you add.

“Way to ruin a sappy moment, moron.” Seonghwa playfully shoves you and you laugh. 

You cuddle up next to him returning your attention back to the show in front of you. Only a few minutes pass before Seonghwa speaks up again, and his question catches you off guard.

“What if we break up... like eventually?” 

You think about it for a second. “Then we go back to being best friends.”

“That easy?”

“That easy.” you nod. 

“For the record though, I don’t ever want there to be a time where I don’t like you. I hope there isn’t.” he says.

“I hope there isn’t either.” you assure, and just like that, you two go back to watching tv.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Seonghwa so it never came as a surprise to you, or anybody for that matter when you figured out you had a little crush on your best friend. 

In a hypothetical situation, if somewhere along the way your feelings ever started to fade, you still couldn’t picture a life where he wasn’t right beside you no matter what. He was your person, and he has been since you two were five. There was nobody in this world that could replace the bond you had with him.

Even at the age of thirteen, you knew you wanted Seonghwa to be there for the rest of your life.

At the age of fourteen and a half, you and Seonghwa have your first ever fight where he conveniently declares that he loves you for the first time. 

seonghwa <3; received 4:24 pm

y/n can u not be like this and talk to me :( 

plsssssss

i’m sorry

can u let me come over and talk to u

Your phone continues to buzz as you stare at it beside you, rolling your eyes at his insistent messaging.

You try your best to ignore it but the continuous beeping irritates you to no end.

you; delivered 4:26 pm

no

i’m mad at u.

seonghwa <3; received 4:26 pm

:(

you; delivered 4:27 pm

can u like do smth with ur life instead of bothering me

seonghwa <3; received 4:27 pm

ouch.

Okay, you admit. That one was a low blow and for a second you almost feel bad until you’re reminded of the fact that you were still royally pissed at him.

you; delivered 4:28 pm

ur actually annoying

seonghwa <3; received 4:28 pm

ya ik i am

but yk what i’m not

someone who is going to do nothing about their gf being mad at them

so open ur window bc im climbing up so i can apologize

stop being a meanie and let me say sorry

Despite how mad you still are, your heart can’t help but skip a beat reading his messages. No matter how hard you wanted to stay angry at him and tell him to go away, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him even if you tried. Seonghwa was charming like that, always managing to sweet talk you in every way. 

You crack open your window and see his tuft of black hair climbing up your ladder. As he hops into your bedroom you fold your arms across your chest, not daring to say a word to him until he speaks first.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.” Seonghwa apologizes, and all you do is look at him. He sighs before continuing. “I was just having a bad day and took it out on you and I shouldn’t have blown up on you during class. I get it. Dick move.”

“But then you had to go and talk to Ashley about it?” you added. “That was like the worst part of it! Do you trust her more than me or something?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he panics. 

“You, and everyone else and their mother knows she’s like obsessed with you!” you shout in frustration. “She’s liked you for so long, do you know how stupid you made me look running off to her knowing how she feels about you?!”

“That wasn’t my intention-”

“Were you trying to make me mad?”

“No, y/n.”

“Did you do it to make me jealous?”

“No!”

“So why Seonghwa, did you have to go and vent to her after you yelled at me in front of everyone when all I did was try to help?”

“I don’t know, okay!”

“I just don’t understand why me of all people you had to take it out on. When all i’ve literally done for you for like the last ten freaking years of us being friends was listen to you when you had a bad day or try to cheer you up when you were down! Never once when I was feeling crappy did I take that out on you. Never.” you explain with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” he doesn’t know what else to say because he knows he’s in the wrong. 

“Do you like her or something?” your voice is quiet and the hurt is evident. “Cause if you do just tell me.”

Seonghwa is quick to shut you down as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, no. Y/n, I don’t like her. I don’t. Please believe me.” he begs. “Look, I don’t know why I went to her when I should’ve gone to you. I couldn’t even begin to explain what was going through my head at that point because I don’t know. But I love you, okay? I would never, ever like Ashley.”

Your eyes widen and you pull away from him. “W-what did you just say?”

“I... um...” Seonghwa starts to fumble over his words because he didn’t exactly intend to tell you, but it sort of just came out and now he’s starting to panic.

“Do you mean it?” you ask.

He just nods, a little embarrassed at his sudden declaration.

“I love you too.” you say softly, and he relaxes.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

"I’m really sorry, y/n.” he pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair as he hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry too.” you murmur against him.

“I hate fighting with you.” he mumbles.

“Me too.”

“I promise I’ll never take my anger out on you again. And I’ll never talk to Ashley again. And I’ll literally do whatever you want me to if it means you won’t stay mad at me because I don’t like it when you’re mad at me, and I hate making you sad.” he rambles and you let out a small chuckle.

“Just come lay down and watch Friends with me.”

“Okay.”

And you ultimately forget that you’re mad at Seonghwa because you decide that you can’t really stay mad at him after he tells you that he loves you. And although all is forgiven, he still decides to grovel for the next week as a reassurance that he really meant his apology.

So at fourteen years old, you have your first, and last fight with him.

At the age of sixteen, you celebrate your three year anniversary with Seonghwa, and decide you were ready to lose your virginity to him.

“Okay I know you said that the expensive dinner date was enough of a present for you, but you know me and always overdoing it....” he says behind you as you hear the crinkling of a bag behind you.

“Seonghwa...”

“Trust me, babe. You’re gonna love it.” he assures as he walks over to you.

Your eyes instantly fall onto the small red velvet box in his hands and your mouth falls open.

“This was expensive wasn’t it?” you pry and he shrugs.

“Maybe, but I was saving up for it for a while now.” he responds, sitting next to you as he hands you the box.

“I always feel bad every time you spend money on me.” you sigh as your fingers smooth over the velvet.

“I know but it was worth it, trust me. Open it.” Seonghwa urges.

You pull apart the bow and lift up the lid, your eyes widening in awe at the shiny ring placed inside. You lift it out gently noticing the small engraving on the inner part of the band, with both your initials and a small ‘i love you 4ever’ written underneath.

“Oh my god,” you utter. “I love it.” you place the ring on your finger.

“Good because I have a matching one too.” your boyfriend grins at you as he pulls out another box lined with a silver band with that very same engraving. 

You pull him in for a hug as he wraps his arms around you instinctively and all you can feel right now is an overload of gratitude for him. 

“I actually love you so much.” you say, pulling his face towards you to press soft kisses all over his face.

“Yeah, I know I’m the best,” Seongwha chuckles. “But I love you too baby.”

Your lips mould together perfectly, the kiss slow and soft at first. His hands wrap around your waist and your mouth moves gently against his. But soon enough you’re clinging to him and his body is pressed against yours, the kiss growing more needy and intense.

You knew when things started to get heavy he would stop the both of you from going further, never wanting to push you to discomfort. The furthest you had gone with one another was only third base, but it never went further than that and Seonghwa always left that decision up to you if you wanted to take it there.

You figure if you don’t speak up now, he was going to cut this short, so it’s only then at this very moment do you decide you wanted him to be your first.

“Do you want to have sex?” you blurt out suddenly and you swear you’ve never seen your boyfriend’s eyes go so wide before. 

He opens his mouth to speak but he can’t seem to find the right words to say. “I- um, wait, are you being for real?” he stutters. “I mean, I do want to, but, are you sure you want to?” he asks, still in disbelief from your question.

“Shit, sorry I know that was really sudden to ask, but I do want to.” you assure. “But only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” his eyes soften, and his hand finds yours in an instant delivering a comforting squeeze.

“Okay so come here and kiss me again please.” you say quietly.

And just like that, Seongwha’s soft lips land on yours once more. Without breaking apart he gently guides you to the head of his bed, laying you down underneath him as your bodies press up against each other.

You swear you can kiss Seongwha for hours and never grow tired of the feeling. You get drunk off his kisses, unable to think of anything else but him. It’s dizzying really, but you love it. You find that off all the things you love about him its his lips, and how impossibly soft they are and how familiar they feel against your own. How much comfort it would bring you, and how all you had to when you had a bad day was just kiss your boyfriend for however long he let you.

It felt like home.

His lips trailed lower to your neck, littering soft pecks across your skin. Quiet noises escape your lips and Seongwha can’t help but grind against your lower half. His hands travel across your body and the ache between your legs grows by the second, and the only thing you can think of is how much you love him, and need him.

Your mind kind of blurs because the next second you find yourself both naked and he’s fiddling in his drawer to find what you assumed to be a condom. He notices your curious stare as he opens his mouth to speak. “M-my dad told me to keep these in here,” Seongwha stutters. “He said to be prepared in case the time comes, and well, here’s the time I guess.” he laughs lightheartedly and the very sound makes your heart swell. 

“Nice call on Papa Park I guess,” you joke and Seongwha chuckles.

He climbs over you and delivers another peck to your swollen lips. “Okay, no more mention of my dad please when I’m about to put my penis in you.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you chuckle nervously as your boyfriend pulls you in for another kiss. 

"Okay, if it hurts tell me to stop and I will, alright?” his eyes stare deeply into your own.

You nod at him with a small smile, admiring what little of his face you could see in the darkness of his room. “I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” he sighs, positioning himself in front of you. “I love you.” he whispers against your lips. 

“I love you more, baby.” you say to him before you feel him push himself inside you. You gasp at the feeling and he stills in his spot to let you adjust. 

And once you signal that it’s okay for him to move, he does at a slow pace, and you gasp at the intense pleasure. Even though the pain has subsided his thrusts are still slow and controlled, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to hurt you, or if he just wants to revel in the feeling of you around him. Either way your heart fills with love for this one boy. 

“I love you so much, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you  know that?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes shut at his words and the newfound feeling you would grow to love. “and thank you for trusting me right now...” his breathing grows heavy. “because I would do anything for you, and I just want you to know that, okay?”

You almost feel like you could cry because above all the pleasure that you’re experiencing right now, his words feel different, more intimate, and all the more meaningful to you. 

And you believe every word he says because you know he truly means it.

“I would do anything for you too.” you repeat his words back to him and he buries his face into your neck as he continues to thrust into you. 

So at sixteen years old, you have your first time with the love of your life. And you tell yourself that no matter what happens between the both of you, you were never going to regret giving that part of yourself to him. 

At the age of eighteen years old, you do the unthinkable.

You decide after a long and heavy conversation, you two were going to break up. You were both set to leave town to pursue your studies at your dream schools, and you felt that parting ways at this point was the better option.

While you two could figure out a way to make things work while half way across the world from each other, you had to take into account all the factors that would drive you two apart. The time difference, the long distance, the fact that you were inevitably going to meet new people, and that you simply did not want to hold each other back from experiencing a life without one another. 

Because all you’ve known almost your entire life was being with Seonghwa, and him with you. You knew it was only fair to give each other the chance to explore something new, and now was that time.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, and although it was an amicable split, you’ve never felt the pain of a broken heart before. It hurt really bad.

Your friends and family decide to throw you both one last goodbye party, wanting to celebrate this special milestone with you. And of course there was no way you and Seonghwa could pass up the last good night you two would have together as a couple.

The party was fun at first. The dancing, the singing, the laughing, and the endless exchange of pictures as you guys shared the last few memories you would have as high school graduates. 

But as the night started to creep in, you both realized that in less than 24 hours, you two would no longer be attached to one another like you had been for the last thirteen years. And after five years as a couple, you still couldn’t believe that your relationship would come to an end, just like that.

You hear the faint music in the background of your house, as you and Seonghwa sit in your backyard, gazing up at the stars.

“This fucking sucks.” Seonghwa sighs, resting his head on your shoulder as you lean your head on top of his. 

“I know.” your throat burns, suppressing the urge to cry. 

“I just didn’t expect this day to come. I never thought we would actually break up with each other.” he admits, and you nod your head in agreement. 

You grab onto his hand rubbing comforting circles onto his skin, and you feel Seonghwa’s body start to shake next to you. You don’t want to look at him because you know if you see him cry, you’ll cry too.

You close your eyes trying to control your heavy breathing and the quivering of your lips. Your eyes are watering but you refuse to let your tears slip, and your heart hurts like it’s never hurt before, and you don’t know if the pain will ever go away.

“Seonghwa I really love you.” your voice breaks and you finally let the tears fall.

“I know, baby.” the pet name has always affected you, but now more than ever it tugs at your heart strings in a bittersweet way. “I really, really love you too. Always.”

“You know you’re the love of my life right? You’re always going to be.” you state and he delivers a squeeze to your hand in acknowledgement.

“And you’ll always be mine.” he answers back. “You’re my best friend in the whole world and the last five years with you as my girlfriend will forever be the greatest five years of my life. I will always stand by the fact that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

As you stare at one another with teary eyes, he knows you’re saying the same exact words to him. He doesn’t need to hear you say it, nor does he expect you to. Your eyes say more than enough to him.

You look down at the rose gold band around your finger and you realize how long you’ve kept it on, never once taking it off since that day Seonghwa gave it to you. “Do you want your ring back?” you utter, your eyes watering once more.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Please keep it. Because I still mean it. And I always will. I’m gonna love you forever, y/n. Even if you decide to take it off, if that’s the last reminder you have of how much I love you, then please keep it.”

Your heart is hurting, and the tears seem never ending as they continue to fall down your cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you Seonghwa.” a sob escapes from your lips, and Seonghwa squeezes your hand again.

“I know, baby but you have to. You’re going to the school you’ve dreamed of going to since you were in the fourth grade. You’re going to accomplish so much and a build a great life for yourself, y/n. And even though I won’t be physically with you, I’m always going to support you every step of the way.” he assures.

You knew in a perfect world you two didn’t have to break up. But long distance was a bitch, and you moving across the world was never going to be easy on him. You couldn’t force each other to wait for the other. Not when the both of you had to start a whole new life separately. You had to let each other go.

You turn to face him, your teary eyes staring into his own. “I’ll always support you too, okay? No matter what. I want you to make the most of your time in Seoul, study hard, surround yourself with good people and have the most fun you’ve ever had. You’re gonna make so many friends and pursue the career you’ve always wanted and experience new things that you’ve never done before. And most of all, you’re going to meet a girl and love her just as much as you loved me. And you’re gonna fall in love all over again, and just be happy. Just promise me that you will make the most of your time over there and live your life to the fullest. Don’t look back, don’t wait for me. Just live until I get to see you again.” your voice breaks. “And if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Seonghwa lets out a sob and nods. “I promise.” his voice breaks and you pull him in for your last goodbye kiss.

At nineteen, you visit your hometown for Christmas, which was the first time you’d be back in a year and a half. 

Having missed out on the chance to visit last year with your busy schedule, you made sure not to pass up the chance to see your family and friends. The more you grew accustomed to your new home you managed to find a good balance between school, work, and your personal life, so you found that this year was finally a good time to return back for a visit.

And there was no better time to come home than for Christmas day.

“Yeah, just landed at our layover and waiting for the next flight.” you say to your mother over Facetime.

“That’s great honey, I’m so excited to see you.” she smiles at you and you return the gesture. 

“I missed you mom.” you say.

“And I missed you even more.” 

You two continue conversing amongst one another, as she filled you in on all things you missed while you were gone before a voice interrupts your conversation.

“Hey babe, here.” Juyeon says, handing you a coffee as he presses a small kiss to your forehead.

“Oh thank you.” you murmur with a small smile as your boyfriend sits down next to you.

“Oh hey miss y/l/n!” Juyeon greets seeing your mom’s face plastered on your screen.

“Juyeon!” she squeals excitedly. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person instead of over video chat. It was about damn time.” she states and you and your boyfriend chuckle. You hand him your phone allowing them to talk with one another and you smile fondly at the newfound bond between Juyeon and your mother.

“I know, I can’t wait to meet all of you guys too! I know y/n’s been really excited, it was all she could talk about for the last three weeks.” he teases. “And she says you make really good pie so i am definitely looking forward to that.”

“That is such an understatement, I make the best pie.” she scoffs. “And I made one specifically for you.” your mother beams.

After a few minutes of playful banter exchanged, Juyeon hands your phone back to you. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before we board, I’ll be back.” he excuses himself and you nod in acknowledgement. 

“Oh y/n, I just thought I should mention Seonghwa and his family are coming over for Christmas dinner as well.” your mom says and the sheer mention of his name as your heart beating in your chest.

“Oh he’s back in town too?” you ask casually and she nods.

“Yup, he’s also bringing his girlfriend.” she adds.

“That’s great, I’m really happy for him.” you say with a smile.

And you meant it, truly. 

You knew of his girlfriend from the few photos he posted of her on instagram, and he seemed genuinely happy. Aside from his newfound love, he was clearly enjoying his time in Seoul like you had hoped, and it was everything you wished for him. 

You two hadn’t really spoken over the last year, and it wasn’t really on purpose, you two just kind of drifted, as expected. You two were starting fresh in an unfamiliar place, and you both were finding your way around your new homes. You two were also preoccupied with school, and meeting new people so it was sort of inevitably really that you two grew apart. Of course there were the few times you two would chat, but it never lasted long due to time differences and busy schedules. 

Although you missed him immensely, you were beyond happy for the life he started for himself, and you knew he was happy for you too. He did exactly what he promised you the last night you spent together, and that was enough to make you happy.

“Flight 219 now boarding.” the announcer calls and Juyeon meets you right on time.

“Okay mom, that’s us. I’ll see you in a few hours, bye, love you.” you bid your farewell before hanging up, and Juyeon grabs your hand leading you to the gate.

“Ready to go home?” he smiles at you, and you beam excitedly, nodding your head.

As the days pass leading up to Christmas, you spend all of your of time with your family and friends, using every second to catch up with your loved ones. You find that Juyeon is adapting well to your home life, bonding with your father and making your mother love him even more than she already did. You introduce him to your childhood friends and he instantly wins over Mingi, Hongjoong, Yunho and Jennie. You admire how much of an effort he put into forming a friendship with them because he knew how much it meant to you.

You were thankful really, to find a guy who was almost perfect for you.

But still, in the back of your mind, even though you loved Juyeon beyond belief, you knew Seonghwa would always have that special place in your heart.

On the day of Christmas, you and Juyeon set the table as you await the Park’s arrival. You were slightly nervous, obviously, given the fact that you had not seen Seonghwa in over a year and you would be meeting his girlfriend. Although you were happy for him, you still felt anxious to see him and her, and you could only hope that she was good for him, because he deserved that much. 

Only a few moments later do you hear a knock at your door and your mother walks over to greet your longtime neighbours. Juyeon stands next to you as he wraps an arm around your waist comfortingly and you relax against him. 

You see Mrs. Park first as she walks inside, giving your mother a friendly hug. Mr. Park follows suit as he greets your mother and your father with a wide smile on his face.

And then you see him.

His hair is slightly darker and he does look a little older. But other than that his face is so familiar to you and your heart beats wildly in your chest as the two of you make eye contact. His face softens when he sees you and you deliver a small wave to him as he smiles. His girlfriend trails behind him and you take notice of how beautiful she was. You smile at her too and she returns the gesture and your heart kind of warms seeing how shy she is because you always kind of knew Seonghwa would pick someone similar to him.

“Oh my y/n, how long has it been!” Mrs. Park calls towards you and you hug her tightly. 

“I missed you!” you say to her and her arms wrap tighter around you.

“I missed you too, darling. And you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you!” she compliments. “And who is this handsome man?”

“This is Juyeon, he’s my boyfriend.” you smile, and Juyeon shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. Y/n’s talked a lot about your family.” he says politely.

“Y/n’s picked a good one, I see.” she winks playfully as you notice Seonghwa and his girlfriend make their way towards you two.

“Hey y/n, long time no see.” Seonghwa says and you almost melt at the sound of his voice. He pulls you in for a hug and you notice how he still wears the same cologne that you had bought him all those years ago.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you again.” you smile at him, and although it had been well over a year since you two last saw each other, there was no hint of awkwardness, just nostalgia.

“Oh, this is Juyeon.” you introduce and Seonghwa delivers a warm smile to your boyfriend, shaking his hand respectfully.

“Nice to meet you.” Juyeon smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Seonghwa. Y/n’s... childhood friend.” he decides to say.

“I know she’s mentioned you a lot in her stories.” your boyfriend acknowledges. “From all the things she told me you were one of the people I was looking forward to meet the most. You seemed really great to her.”

“I could only hope so. She was my best friend after all.” Seonghwa glances at you, and you know there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. “And you seem like a really great guy, so I’m glad she has good people in her life.” Seonghwa returns and you find it heartwarming how well their exchange is going.

You look at the girl beside your ex and she’s staring at you with gentle, curious eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n.” you smile at her, extending your hand out for her to shake.

“Rosé,” she beams at you and you don’t even really know her but there was something about her that assured you she was good fit for Seonghwa. “I heard a lot about you as well, Hwa’s always talking about his life back home so I’m really glad I got to meet his best friend. You were really special to him.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad I got to meet you too.” you say.

“Okay, time for dinner everyone!” your father announces and you all take a seat at the table, passing over plates of food and catching up with one another.

“So Seonghwa, how’s Seoul treating you?” your mother asks as everyone turns their attention towards him.

“Uh really good actually,” he responds. “I joined a band actually! Uh, I became friends with these really nice guys. San and Yeosang. They basically recruited me after they found out I could sing and now we play at this local bar every week on Friday’s and Saturday’s. It was really good for me, I think. It helped with my stress and stuff. And that’s actually where I met Rosé.”

“That’s amazing.” your mother comments with a warm smile.

“Yeah he was really shy at first but San kind of forced him to talk to me which I was really thankful for because I was eyeing him for a while and was too shy myself to approach him.” Rosé says. “I still remember the night he asked for my number and he was stumbling over his words and I swear he looked like he was going to pass out.” she chuckles, and everyone at the table laughs along with her.

“Oh my god I know what you mean, he also cracks his fingers a lot and starts to turn really purple when he’s nervous.” you add and Rosé points at you nodding in agreement.

“Yes! I notice that all the time!” she laughs, and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Trust me, I have the most embarrassing stories of him when we were kids.” you say.

“Oh god, you have to tell me all of them.” Rosé giggles.

“Obviously, we have the whole night for that.” you wink at her, and you realize how easy and natural it was to talk to her, and that confirmed that you indeed really liked her. 

Seonghwa watches the exchange between you both, and as you two make eye contact with each other, a small smile appears on his face as you nod at him, silently approving of the girl he chose to bring home for this special day. His heart grows full seeing how well the two of you got along, and he’s forever grateful at how amazing of a person you were that you were so willingly to form a friendship with his new girlfriend.

Although he loved Rosé dearly, there was still a piece of his heart where he’d always love you. And that piece grows a little more when he realizes how you continue to support him, even through this unconventional situation. 

Seonghwa decides he’s going to do the same for you, because just like you were happy for him, he was happy for you too. 

Of course he was glad you found someone who could put a smile on your face like he once did, and he knows that for you to have willingly dated Juyeon, he had to have been just as great as you were. You always had the best judgement of people.

“So Juyeon, how’d you and y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks genuinely and he notices the way his face lights up at the mention of your name.

“We had a lot of mutual friends and they introduced us. It’s funny actually, I could tell y/n didn’t even really like me that much at first, she was always so disinterested when I would try and talk to her.” Juyeon laughs.

“Probably stressing too much about trivial things.” Seonghwa chuckles.

“Yeah she does that a lot, so overly anxious all the time” Juyeon notes, and Seonghwa agrees. 

“Hey,” you interrupt and Juyeon apologizes.

“Sorry babe,” he chuckles. "but yeah, I finally sweet talked my way to get her to go out on a coffee date with me and then the next day she asked to go out for lunch after our lecture. We kind of just ended up hanging out more often and well, the rest is history I guess.”

“That’s great, I’m really glad she found someone that makes her happy.” Seonghwa smiles, and you feel a sense of gratitude towards him.

The rest of the night your families converse with one another and share a few drinks, as you and Seonghwa share old stories with Juyeon and Rosé. If you told yourself three years ago that you would be sitting by the fireplace on Christmas day with you and Seonghwa as exes exchanging stories with your new lovers, you would’ve never believed it. 

But you don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. In fact you’re immensely grateful that despite not being as close to Seonghwa anymore, you were able to see each other grow and adapt with your new lives. A life where you made new friends and made new memories. Where you tried things you’ve never tried before, and explored new places. And where you could love other people and still be so insanely happy for one another. 

This was a good thing.

At one point during the night the two of you find yourselves alone, a comfortable silence filling the room as you stared at the fire in front of you, basking in its warmth.

“I missed you.” Seonghwa is the first to break the silence.

“I missed you too.” you return. “And I’m really happy for you, you know?” 

“I’m really happy for you too, y/n.” Seonghwa smiles at you. “And I really like Juyeon. He seems really great, and he makes you happy, I can see it. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “And I think Rosé is amazing. She’s perfect for you. And I’m forever grateful that you two have each other. I know we’ve drifted over the last year, but you’re still my best friend in the whole world. And even though I don’t say it often, or even out loud, I’m supporting you through everything. As long as it makes you happy that’s all I care about.”

His heart warms at your statement and he locks eyes with you. “And you know I’m always supporting you too. Seeing you happy and thriving is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s all I want for you.” he states.

Neither of you have to say it, but you know this is your unspoken way of saying that you both still loved each other greatly. You still stood by the fact that Seonghwa was, and always would be the most important person in your life, and you in his. Seeing one another content and happy despite not having each other around anymore, was the one thing that mattered to you both. The maturity and support you continued to show was only because of the immense love you have, and have always had for one another. 

The kind of love that lets you give up the person you love the most so they can have a better life without you. 

And the kind of love that’s okay with it.

At twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa meet again.

It’s during one of your breaks where you find yourself extremely homesick. You don’t even give your family a heads up until you’re outside your childhood home knocking at your door.

It was an impulsive decision but it’s not like you were currently in school. You had the time and the money, and you missed your hometown so incredibly bad that it only took you one second to make that decision to come back.

“Coming, one second!” you hear a male voice call behind the door and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, that’s is definitely not my mom, or dad.” you say to yourself. “Did they move out without telling me or something-” your internal conversation is cut short as the door swings open and you’re greeted by an unexpected figure.

“Y/n?” the boy says in surprise.

“Seonghwa??” you say even more confused. 

“Who’s at the door Seonghwa?” now that’s your mother’s voice you hear and she gasps as she walks over to the door. “Y/n! Oh my god why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?!” she pulls you into her arms.

“Surprise.” you chuckle. “I kind of sort of felt really homesick and impulsively bought a plane ticket last night so I could fly back so... here I am.”

“Well come settle in! Seonghwa was just helping with some renovations in the house but I’ll let you two catch up.” your mother grabs your luggage, carrying it up to your bedroom. “Go grab a coffee or something!” she yells upstairs.

You look over to Seonghwa and he shrugs. “Let’s go then.” he smiles and your heart swells.

The two of you walk comfortably beside one another as you take in the scenery around you, missing the familiar place you once called home. 

“I didn’t know you were back in town too.” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, it was pretty impulsive too actually.” he admits as he looks at you. 

“What was your reason?” you ask curiously.

“Break up.” he states and your mouth falls open.

“Wait, you and Rosé...” 

He nods. “Yeah, things just kinda, fizzled out. You know, we grew apart, wanted different things, came to a point where we were in different stages in our life.”

“Oh wow.” is all you say. “I’m sorry to hear, she was really sweet. I really liked her.”

“Yeah, she was,” Seonghwa sighs. “I mean, we ended on good terms. We’re still friends, actually. I don’t even think I’m necessarily sad about it to be honest, it’s just different, you know? Like I know we weren’t even dating for that long, like two and a half years at most. But I just got so used to being around her and spending so much time with her, and then things just weren’t really the same after a while. It just felt odd not having someone. And being alone made me miss everything I had here so I came back.”

You nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I totally get what you mean.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrow at you. “You mean... you and Juyeon too?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I think for us we just realized we were better off as friends than as a couple, you know? Like after a while the attraction kind of went away and we were only really together because it was comfortable. And we didn’t want to stay together if we weren’t in love anymore, it wouldn’t have made sense. The break up was easy and it felt right when we ended things, I kind of wish it happened sooner but, I was still thankful for the time we spent together. He is still one of my best friends so I’m grateful for that at least.”

“That’s good.” he smiles softly. 

“Hey at least we both can confidently say we have a track record of smooth break ups, right?” you joke lightheartedly.

“Thank god for that.” Seonghwa says with a laugh.

When you two enter the coffee shop you’re once again hit with a feeling of nostalgia as you think of all the times you, Seonghwa, and your friends would spend most days after school, drinking hot chocolate and eating pastries together as you all talked for hours and hours.

“I’ll get our usuals, you can wait by our spot.” Seonghwa offers, and you nod making your way towards your designated table. 

The moment you sit down you’re hit with a wave of flashbacks you shared in this very space, and a small smile creeps onto your face as you look back on all the old memories. 

After your brief moment of reminiscing, Seongwha sits across from you handing over your cup. 

“Sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss home until you’re actually back in all the places you grew up in,” you note as you take notice of the small engraving in the corner of the table marked with yours and all your friends’ initials. Your fingers ghost over the mark and when you look up at Seongwha you see that he’s also eyeing the engraving. 

“I remember when we put that there,” he recalls with a smile. “After five years of coming here and sitting at this same exact table with our friends we claimed our ownership by putting that stupid engraving that took us forever to do. As if that stopped people from sitting here anyways.” you both chuckled.

“Well at least Jennie and Hongjoong were brave enough to kick out the people who stole our spot.” you laugh.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa smiles fondly at the memory. “I still remember the days where Mingi and Yunho would bet the barista on how many butter croissants they could eat in one sitting so we could all get a supply of free hot chocolate for a year.”

“And it was only after Mingi threw up everywhere that it turned out all we had to do was ask her, and she would’ve done it anyways because we were regulars here.” you finish with a soft chuckle.

A comfortable silence fills the air as you two reminisce on the old memories of your teenage years.

“Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa says.

“Of course.”

“When you finish university,” he starts. “What are you gonna do afterwards? Like do you plan on living abroad permanently? Or are you gonna come back home?”

You pause for a second. “Honestly, after the first year there, I fell in love with the city. And I truly was planning on starting my life there and making that my permanent home, ‘cause I had Juyeon, and I had my new friends, I had jobs lined up for me after graduation, and just an overall great home.” you say. “But after splitting up with him, and sitting with the fact that I was constantly homesick, I kinda realized that this is my home, you know? Like, no matter how much I loved my new friends, and loved the city, it would never be as special to me as here. Nothing over there compared to everything I have here. And I knew you were gonna come back from Seoul after graduation, and Jennie and Yunho were gonna come back from New Zealand too. And Mingi and Hongjoong, and the rest of them were all still here... I didn’t want to be the only one gone. All my real friends are here, my family’s here... you’re here. I didn’t want to leave that all behind.” you exclaim and Seonghwa’s face softens.

“I’m really glad honestly.” he responds. “Because I missed you a lot. And it would’ve really sucked to know you weren’t gonna be here anymore when I moved back. I just really miss spending time with my best friend.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Well, you have the next two weeks to do that.” you smile up at him.

“I have an idea.” his eyes light up and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight? We can have a move night and order take out like the good old times.” he grins at you.

“You had me at sleepover.” you say with a smile and so he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the exit.

When Seonghwa lets you into his house you almost forget the fact that you haven’t been inside in almost three whole years. This was practically your second home and you found comfort in the fact that nothing really changed since you last saw it. Everything looked almost exactly how you remembered it, minus the new couch and dining table, and a few new paintings hung up on the walls.

“Your mom didn’t change much over the last few years.” you observe.

“Yeah, she was going to do a whole renovation like your mom, and she even planned a whole design out, but she opted out last minute. She said she wanted me to come back home to something I remembered.” Seonghwa answers. “I didn’t get why at first but it only started making sense to me the more I started visiting and realized this was like my safety net.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” you say.

You and Seonghwa walk upstairs to his bedroom, and of course nothing changed inside either. It almost seemed like it had been untouched aside from the fresh bedsheets and clean floor. You notice the small picture frames neatly placed across his dresser table and you realize most of them are pictures with you. You pick one frame up as you remember the day so clearly. A faint smile forms on your face as your fingers ghost over the photo.

“I asked my mom to put those up again recently.” Seonghwa states from behind you. “I was gonna put more with our friends but I realized we didn’t take many with them. They were mostly just of us two. I hope you don’t think it’s weird.”

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I would never think it’s weird.” you say, placing the frame back onto his dresser.

Seonghwa tosses you one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts that you always left at his house during your impromptu sleepovers. And suddenly you’re once again hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks and you flop onto his bed with a deep exhale.

“Let’s just lay here for a second.” you say pulling him down next to you. “I just wanna remember everything that I missed while I was gone.” 

Seonghwa settles beside you and you can’t help your racing heart as he inches closer to you. As you lay next to one another looking up at the ceiling, your breathing relaxes and you revel in the feeling of just being so comfortable and at so at home. 

“You don’t know how much I missed this,” Seonghwa whispers next to you. “even though we haven’t seen each other in years and we don’t talk as much anymore, when I’m with you it’s like we never even left each other. Like we just pick up right where we left off. You’re the one person who’s always brought me comfort and I never feel like we have to force things with each other, no matter how much we drifted.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and suddenly the room feels so much warmer. Your heart beats fast and you realize how much of an effect Seonghwa still has on you after all these years.

“I think about you everyday, you know that?” you confess, turning your head to look at him. “Every time I’m out somewhere there will always be little things that remind me of you. And I think about all the places in the city I would take you, and the places I know you would love. I think about all the things you would tell me when I was feeling down, and how you would react to certain situations as if you were right there beside me the whole time. I miss you all the time.”

You both stare at one another and your eyes flicker back and forth to his lips and when you look into his own eyes you notice him doing the same. After a moment of just staring into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do next, Seonghwa pulls you towards his face and kisses you, and the feeling absolutely overwhelms you in all the good ways.

It’s far from soft and sweet, instead heavy and messy, and so intense that your chest burns with desire. You don’t dare pull away from him even when you needed to catch your breath, because the feeling of his lips on yours after all these years intoxicates you and has you yearning for more. He’s pulling you closer to him and you feel like your body is on fire. 

Seonghwa rolls on top of you and your bodies mould perfectly with one another, as if you were both the two missing pieces of a puzzle. You can’t exactly describe the feeling but it’s overwhelming and very reminiscent and brings you back to all the times with Seonghwa that brought you so much happiness years ago. It’s a feeling you didn’t know if you would ever feel again and you missed it more than anything.

The ache between your legs becomes overwhelming and before you know it you’re begging him to touch you, and without any hesitation he does. Your bodies press tightly against each other and your desperate need for him only grows the moment he grinds down on you. 

The next thing you know, you’re both unclothed and fully exposed to one another, and you see each other in your most vulnerable states for the first time in years. When he finally pushes himself inside you the pleasure is significantly magnified as the fire inside you only intensifies at the feeling of him.

It happens quick at first but Seonghwa decides he wants to take his time with you. Like you, he didn’t know if he would ever feel you in this way again and he was going to use every second with you that he could.

You don’t know how much time has passed but by the end, you both are exhausted and sore, and panting heavily next to each other. It’s dark outside and the room is warm and even though you’re both sweaty and gross, you haven’t felt this good in a long, long time. 

“Was that okay?” Seonghwa asks, pulling your naked body into his arms.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “It was perfect.”

So you lay in each other’s embrace for a while and your heart feels warm and fuzzy, bringing you an endless amount of comfort. You feel content at this very moment, and your worries are pushed to the back of your mind as you fall asleep soundly together.

It’s only at 2 o’clock in the morning do you wake up in a haze and through your fatigued confusion does your brain recall the events that took place a few hours ago. Unable to make out your surroundings in the darkness, your eyes widen not knowing if what happened earlier really happened. When you attempt to sit up you feel a pair of arms wrapped securely around your waist and your body relaxes. Soft snores escape Seonghwa’s lips and you snuggle closer to his body to feel his warmth.

It dawns on you that you still are very much in love with Seonghwa, and of course deep down you knew that you always would be. You also knew given the chance (like now) your feelings would resurface because well... they never really left in the first place.

The unknowingness of this outcome has you shifting in your spot and anxiety creeps in as you think of leaving him all over again. Because after tonight, you don’t know if you can bear the thought of parting ways with him and returning to your life abroad where you can’t tell him exactly how you feel.

You don’t realize right away that Seonghwa has woken up next to you and he only does so because of your constant shifting. It’s when he delivers a gentle squeeze to your waist do you finally take notice.

“Are you okay?” his voice his deep and tired and the sound is enough to make your heart beat fast.

“Yeah.” you reply unconvincingly, but Seonghwa has known you all his life and was also the one to date you for five whole years. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself so in an instant he could tell there was something bothering you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Your back is leaning against his chest, and you can feel his soft breathing on your neck, and instinctively he starts to rub small circles on your arm knowing that was the one thing that could calm you down.

“It’s stupid.” you say, your voice is quiet and laced with a hint of embarrassment.

“Do you regret what we did?” Seonghwa asks and you’re quick to shut down his claim.

“No! No, of course not.” you return. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” 

You exhale, letting out a heavy sigh. “Seonghwa I still love you.” it’s almost inaudible to him but he knows he heard you correctly. 

He lets out a soft sigh and a smile smiles forms on his face.

“I still love you too, baby.” and when you hear him call you by the name you loved so much, you feel like you’re going to melt in his arms. “I always would remember?”

Your eyes start to water because it’s been so long since you’ve been able to say that to him, and to hear him say those same exact words back to you has a weight lifting right off your shoulders that you didn’t even know was there.

“Why’s that upsetting you?” he questions and you feel him press soft kisses to your shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you all over again.” you admit. 

He sighs next you and attempts to pull you even closer, if that were possible.

“Well we’ll spend the rest of the time we have together and enjoy every second of it. And after graduation we’ll come back home and we’ll pick up right where we left off like we always do.” Seonghwa tries to reassure you and you shake your head, sniffling.

“That’s not what I mean...” you say. “I mean that I don’t want to go back and not be with you. I don’t want to wait out till graduation and know that we aren’t together because I don’t think I can. Not after tonight.”

It clicks in Seonghwa’s brain and he knows exactly what you mean, and so he decides now’s the time to ask you what he’s been wishing to ask you for so many years. He knows he wasn’t supposed to wait for you, but he always knew he would.

“You don’t have to then.” he states.

“I don’t?”

“Do you want to get back together?” he asks and your heart almost stops. “I mean we only broke up ‘cause of the distance right? And we both fulfilled our promises to each other that we would experience a different life and learn what it was like to not be together. We’re in our last year of uni, we’d only have to be apart for a few more months and then we’ll both be back home in no time, permanently. We would never have to be apart again.” he reasons with you.

And it did make complete sense. He was right in every way, so in truth, there really wasn’t anything stopping you from being together again. You don’t have to think much about it because the decision was already made deep down. You knew you wouldn’t hesitate to be with Seonghwa again if you had the chance, and now was that chance.

You turn to face him and even though you two can’t see each other, there’s a small smile painted on both your faces and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, let’s get back together.”

So at twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa officially reconcile, and spend the next two weeks together like you planned, catching up on everything you did while you two were apart.

And just like he said, it was like you two never left each other.

And now, at twenty-two years old, Seonghwa pops the question.

And you finally marry him.

"Family, friends, and all loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Y/n and Seonghwa. We stand here to support this couple and share the joys of their love and commitment as they solidify this partnership, choosing to spend the rest of their lives together.” 

“Through this marriage you make a lifelong promise to one another to always love, respect, trust and honor each other through anything, and everything. You promise to stay committed, and loyal, and most importantly, share your dreams, your happiness, and your sorrows with each other.” 

“From today, and this moment on, you will forever be united as one.”

You stare at Seonghwa and your heart beats hard against your chest as you stand in front of him watching his eyes light up and his smile grow by the second. You feel like you’re in a dream and everything around you feels so surreal.

Your eyes scan the alter and you see your mother beside Mrs. Park, both of them clinging onto each other as tears of happiness running down their cheeks. Their smile is wide and filled with so much love and you knew this day was something the two have been waiting for, for as long as they could remember. 

You see Mingi, and Yunho, and Hongjoong, and Jennie, your best friends who witnessed every progression of your relationship with Seonghwa from the moment you two met. They’re all grinning from ear to ear and you can’t help but laugh as they silently cheer you on from the pews.

You see your dad, and Seonghwa’s dad, and both of your grandparents, and the entirety of yours and Seonghwa’s family joined together as they smile brightly at the two of you.

And then your eyes meet with Rosé and Juyeon as they mouth a “you got this!” to you and Seonghwa, delivering a thumbs up in your direction, and your heart kind of warms because even after splitting up, the friendship between you four remained and it was evident through their support on this special day.

When your eyes lock with your soon-to-be-husband his lips quirk up into a warm smile as you mouth out an “i love you.”

“Now Y/n, Seonghwa, please join hands” the officiant states.

"Do you, Park Seonghwa take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?” 

“I do.” he states softly, eyes gazing into yours.

"And Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Park Seonghwa to be your husband?”

“I do.” you respond beaming.

"Seonghwa, please repeat after me.” the officiant says. “I, Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” 

“I Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/n Y/l/n, to be my lawfully wife...” he repeats.

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

 “For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.” Seonghwa finishes and your eyes start to water.

“Now, Y/n, please repeat after me.” the officiant calls on you. “I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

You exhale before repeating his words. ““I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

“For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.”

As Jennie walks over to hand over the rings she smiles brightly at you, as the crowd watches you and Seonghwa each place the new band on your fingers, signifying the start of your lifelong commitment to one another. 

“Well! By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant shouts with a smile. “You may now kiss the bride!”

And without a second wasted Seonghwa pulls you in kissing you like he’s never kissed you before and the loud shouts and cheers in the background fills your ears as everyone hollers around you. And when you pull away you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as Seonghwa carries you out of the alter.

“Here’s to our new life together, Mrs. Park.” Seonghwa says with a grin as you kiss him once more.

“I love you so much.” you say.

“And I love you even more.” he returns.

So at twenty-two years old you know that you’re never going to stop loving Seonghwa, and that love was made permanent by the unity of your marriage. From the moment you declared him as your boyfriend at the age of six, to the years you spent learning everything together as a couple, growing apart and reuniting, you know that this was a rare kind of love to find, and one that had to mature and progress over a long period of time. 

And so you remember the words you said to him all those years ago the night you parted ways, “if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Which stayed true four and a half years later, and for the rest of your life thereafter.

LA FIN.

[juno-of-the-sky]

pink in the night / tetsurou kuroo

eleven times you and tetsurou kissed throughout your lives.  [based off of mitski’s pink in the night, i strongly recommend you listen to that while reading]

tags: lots of kisses (no duh), traditional couple things, gender-neutral reader word count: 3,092k my hand slipped a/n: wow look my first work! obviously i made it about kuroo because he’s one of the easiest ones for me to write LOL— anyway i hope you enjoy! requests will be open soon as well in case there’s anything specific you’d like to see <3

Kuroo’s lips were chapped.

There were a lot of things you could’ve been focusing on at that moment, but his lips were chapped against yours, and that was the main thing. Or, it was the main thing until the weight of what you were doing — kissing Tetsurou Kuroo — really sunk in, and then it was everything. It was his chapped lips; his palms, resting so gently on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing circles into the apples of them; the pitter patter of the rain hitting the puddles on the concrete and the umbrella above the both of you that you were holding.

In only a moment, you’d managed to notice so much and so little at the same time.

Kuroo was the one to break the kiss — you had to hold back from dropping the umbrella and pressing your hands against his neck and pushing him into your lips because you just had to have him again.

“Ah, sorry,” The messy-haired boy muttered. When you opened your eyes with a confused, incoherent murmur, he was staring down at the ground, his cheeks dusted with pink. “That was… impulsive, my bad—” “Kuroo,” You breathed. “That was amazing.” He was silent for a second, before a slightly shocked, “Really?” “Do it again.”

He chuckled, putting his loving gaze on you again for only a second before stealing another kiss. This time, you took note of every detail.

And I know I’ve kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right

“Oh, come on, that was a lame kiss,” Kuroo rolled his eyes, slipping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. The sudden force knocked you off of your feet slightly, but you were happy to be close. 

“It was not,” You insisted, squinting your eyes in the sun to see him accurately. Upon your declaration that the kiss of the night before — your first kiss with him, no less — had been the best in the world, Kuroo was annoyingly set on proving you wrong. “It was a great kiss.” “My lips weren’t even moisturized,” He said, shaking his head. “You have meager standards, (Y/N).” “If it was so bad, then kiss me again to make up for it.”

Kuroo was silent, unmoving for a second before slipping his arms around your waist and lifting you ‘till you were level with his lips and kissing you.

If last night, someone had told you that the next day you would have a kiss that was even more amazing than the one you shared with Kuroo in the rain, you wouldn’t have believed them.

Now, kissing him in the sun with your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist, you definitely would’ve.

Can I try again

“Do you wanna be my partner?” The bouquet of pink roses in your hand seemed to glow a million times brighter as Kuroo stared at you with that smile on his face — confident, mostly, but with undertones of a sort of innocent shyness.

“Y—You mean to ask me?” You squeaked.

“Obviously. Who else would I ask?” He responded with a light chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re the one who… y’know.”

It all seemed so impossible — how in the world did Tetsurou Kuroo fall for this next-door-neighbor-type person? Yet, you felt like you were glowing pink, pink with adoration and affection and…

“Yeah,” was your final, whispered response. “I’ll be your partner.”

Kuroo smiled even wider, reaching out his arms — but before he could do anything, you went in for the kiss you knew he was planning. He hummed, surprised, which made you pull away momentarily.

“What are you doing?” He said, eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. His hand was tracing up the back of your neck. “C’mon. Stop being a tease.” And his hand pushed against your neck, and then you were in your favorite place in the world — with your lips pressed to Kuroo’s. The serene hill the two of you had been sitting on, watching the clouds go by, was a lovely backdrop for this romance, this early love that was starting to form between the two of you.

You weren’t just glowing pink — the whole world was.

Try again

Kuroo had his head pressed against the wall when you found him, tears pouring down his cheeks in unrelenting streams. You didn’t know what was wrong, but there was something — Kuroo didn’t just cry like this. He’d never cried. It was such a strange sight to behold, but it wasn’t a bad one.

You sank down on the brick wall beside him, placing your hand on his knee. Through all of the tears, he gave you a side-glare that could’ve been full of a lot of different emotions.

“Hey, Kuroo, it’s okay,” You said, squeezing his knee. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? You’re not alone.”

He spat out something incoherent, his voice sounding nasally and hoarse like he had to force the words off of the tip of his tongue. 

Gently, you slipped your hand under his chin and lifted his head slightly to face you. He stared impassively at you, despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks before the tiniest glimmer of a smile appeared on his chapped, broken lips.

Your hand ran through his uncombed hair like clockwork; your other hand fit in the spaces between his fingers perfectly. You kissed him, but this kiss was different than your previous ones. It was gentle, full of affection and attention and warmth and love; that was the strange, fluttering feeling you felt in your chest every time you kissed Kuroo. It was love.

And as you pulled away from each other, you couldn’t help noticing that against this wall was where you had your first kiss.

You figured it was a good enough wall to say something else noteworthy.

“I love you,” You whispered, the three beautiful words rolling off your tongue like marbles from the depths of your heart.

Kuroo was silent, and for a second, you thought you’d messed up. You were assembling an apology in your head before, so quietly you almost missed it, a chuckle.

“I love you, too.”

Try again

“Well, babe, we did it.”

The air had a chill to it, despite the June evening — you nodded, teeth clattering together, and pulled your jacket tighter around you. Kuroo noticed this and turned to you, chuckling. “Are you that cold?” “It’s freezing out here,” You said, nodding frantically. “The memories here are good, but I’m starting to think it wasn’t worth it.”

“Here,” He said, pulling off his jacket and handing it to you. “‘m not cold.”

“Aw, Kuroo, you’re too nice.” “What can I say,” The boy grinned, already looking older despite high school graduation having been only a few hours ago. “Only the best for my babe.” “Maybe we should come up with a better pet name. That’s kind of basic, isn’t it?” He shrugged. “I guess it is. What are your ideas?”

To this, you didn’t have an answer. Kuroo had been calling you Babe for… a while — there wasn’t anything else you wanted to hear from him. Just not Babe.

And before you could convey any of this, Kuroo’s face was only inches away from yours, his hand on the back of your neck. “Maybe if I kiss you,” He suggested with a mischievous smile on his face, “You’ll come up with an idea.” “Bring it on—” Your proposition was interrupted by lips on yours, and for the millionth time, you were in your favorite place in the world. This was the beginning of the rest of your lives, wasn’t it?

And as you kissed Tetsurou Kuroo, you wondered how many more times you would kiss him. 

No matter how many times those lips connected, you were confident that you would never, ever get tired of it.

Try again

“Ew! Don’t kiss me!” You laughed, faking more disgust than you held for him. Kuroo sighed dramatically, holding his hand to his head like a Shakespeare character. “What do you mean you don’t want kisses from your boyfriend?” He asked broken-heartedly, shutting his eyes tightly. “How rude, Sugar.”

“It’s because you’re all sweaty and gross,” You said, still laughing and taking a seat against an empty box to drink some water. Moving into your new house had been a task, to say the least, but Kuroo’s presence made it a lot more tolerable. You couldn’t wait to have that comforting presence with you every day in this new beautiful home. “I’ll be happy to kiss you once you take a shower.”

“That’s too long,” Kuroo pouted like a five-year-old, drawing out his vowels and sitting next to you, leaning against the same old cardboard box. “I wanna kiss you now.”

He was too cute when he was all whiny like this — despite the sweat covering every inch of exposed skin on his tall frame, you leaned in and pecked his lips. They were more moisturized than they’d been in high school, you noticed.

“Thank ya’, Sugar,” He said, beaming at you. “Love you.”

“Yeah, I love you too. Now, let’s finish this up so we can go take a shower.”

And again

Kuroo was crying, you were crying — but instead of waves of sadness and grief that you would usually feel in this situation, it was only warmth and happiness and love.

His sliding of the ring onto your left hand was sloppy because he was too excited to look at your face and kiss you. And as you kissed, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him, he couldn’t help his face breaking into a smile even though your lips were still firmly connected.

You were his.

He was yours.

And there, holding you in his arms kissing you — his fiance — like there was no tomorrow, he had never been prouder of the fact. You broke away the messy kiss — not because of the kiss itself, but more of the fact your tears had somewhat merged to create a weird flow of engaged couple tears that were now streaming down both of your faces. You looked at Kuroo — your fiance — and beamed.

“Tetsurou, I love you.”

“I love you, too, (Y/N).” Even though you had heard those words a million times, hearing Kuroo say them at that moment was the most beautiful sound ever to grace your ears. You couldn’t wait to have him say it to you a million more times, now that you had an engagement ring around your fingers.

And again

“You may now kiss the—” “C’mere!” Kuroo, the eager boy, was apparently too good to hear the officiant declare you officially his spouse and launched into you in a passionate, loving kiss. You squealed his name a few times, caught off-guard, but that died out into soft hums of satisfaction as you melted into the kiss. Kisses had always been something so unique, so sacred to your relationship — and now you were married. How was one to believe it?

“I love you,” He declared as soon as he pulled away, taking your wrist and holding it up like you were a wrestling champion. And to the whole room, he declared like it was a judge’s ruling, “(Y/N) and I are officially married, and I’m proud to call myself (Y/N)’s husband! I love (Y/N)!” “Tetsurou, you’re embarrassing me,” You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. “Oh, grow up,” He rolled his eyes, collecting you into his arms and kissing you again. Then, before you could say anything at all, he took your hand and nearly yanked you down the aisle with him in a sort of dance.

“Tetsurou!” You started to scold, but he cut you off with another kiss on the lips, easily a few seconds.

“Can’t complain if I’m kissing you,” He said with a smirk. “Congratulations on having the best husband in the world.”

“You’re the worst,” You laughed as you caught up with his pace to sprint outside. “I love you!” “Happy wedding day, Sugar!”

And again

“(Y/N),” Kuroo said groggily, tugging on the leg of your sweatpants as you tried to slip out of bed without him noticing. The morning was new, sunlight casting an ethereal glow through the thin curtains of your bedroom you’d shared for years. Today was the fourth week you got to call Kuroo your husband, and you adored every single second of it.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” You said tiredly, rubbing your eyes. “Can you let go of my pants?” “No. Stay a little longer.” “I have to go to work, Tetsurou.”

It was a fact you didn’t like, but a fact that was true nonetheless — work was taking you away from your poor husband. But work was pretty significant, you’d say.

“Please?” Kuroo pleaded, using his puppy dog eyes that he wasn’t that good at, but you always melted for regardless. It was like an A for effort sort of thing. “Just a few more minutes, Sugar.” “Sorry,” You shook your head. “Gotta go to work.”

“Give me a goodbye kiss, then.” With no hesitation, you pinned his arms to the headboard and planted a kiss on his cracked, dry lips. 

“Happy?” You asked, already pulling away before his strong arms broke your grip and wrapped around your back, pulling you onto his chest and making you collapse on it.

“Another one,” He demanded in a whisper. Rolling your eyes, you complied. “One more?” He asked. “Just for good measure.” “Tetsurou,” You whined irritably but kissed him again — a long kiss to keep him satisfied. This seemed to satisfy his need, and he leaned back as he watched you leave the room.

About an hour later, you were about to leave the house when you heard his tired voice from your bedroom, “Love you, Sugar. Have a good day at work.”

“Love you too, sweetheart!” 

This was an excellent start to your day; you thought as you closed the front door behind you, the cold air embracing the skin that wasn’t covered by your work clothes. A perfect start.

And again

Kuroo was up in front of you like a puppy called to attention as soon as you entered the house, and he was quick to notice the muffle on your mood as you said a tired hello to him and collapsed on the couch, kicking off your work shoes.

“How was your day?” He inquired, sitting next to you and slipping an arm around your shoulders. His hand smelled like disinfectant wipes, you noticed. You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “Long.” “I can tell.” Affectionately, he lifted your arm to slip into your embrace and nuzzled into your shoulder. It had been years since you’d gotten to call Kuroo your husband for the first time, but you had never, ever gotten tired of the little things in your marriage — doting cuddles and tender kisses being high on the list of little things.

You were proud of your marriage and your relationship — not a day was boring with Kuroo, even after the initial stages of newlywed wore off. Every time you looked at his smile, or even just his face that was beginning to differ with age, you were reminded of how much you’d stuck on the line for this man. Honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Sorry you had a rough day, Sugar,” He murmured, planting kisses on your collarbone. “Wanna talk about it?”

“There wasn’t anything in particular. It was just… long, you know?” “Yeah. You’re probably tired, aren’t you?” “Super.” “Well, I made dinner for you,” He smiled. “I got hungry early, but you know I like to eat with you. So, when you want to eat, it’s ready.”

Silently you closed your eyes and thanked whatever deity had blessed you with this angel of a husband, of a person named Tetsurou Kuroo. And while your eyes were closed, he took the opportunity to kiss you.

Kuroo’s kisses tended to be hungry, full of need and want — this one was gentle, giving you the comfort you so desperately wanted. And, as he kissed you, you melted into his embrace.

You loved Tetsurou Kuroo so, so much. And, there, on that couch, you got a feeling that you hadn’t gotten since high school.

The world felt as if it was glowing pink.

And again…

Kuroo was still asleep next to you. As he breathed softly, you took note of his bedhead — all these years of marriage, and you’d never even seen him touch a comb.

You couldn’t fall asleep — insomnia had become a sad commonality for you, and tonight was another one of those sleepless nights. However, you were more than content just to watch your beautiful husband sleep the night away.

He was so perfect, and you loved him so much. You’d always loved him from the second you laid your eyes on him. Even if he hadn’t kissed you that one rainy evening, you’d still love him; even if he hadn’t given you that bouquet of pink roses and asked you to be his partner, you’d still love him; even if he hadn’t let you comfort him that night, you’d still love him; even if you hadn’t graduated high school together, you’d still love him; even if you hadn’t moved in together, you’d still love him; even if he hadn’t proposed to you, you’d still love him; even if he wasn’t as much as a devoted husband as he was, you’d still love him.

You loved Tetsurou Kuroo with your entire heart, and there was nothing in the universe that could change that. 

“Tetsurou, I love you,” You whispered, running your hand along the cheek that wasn’t pressed against the pillow. “You’re perfect.”

His aged face twitched a little, which made you smile. And then, whispered, an almost inaudible, “I love you, (Y/N).”

That ever familiar warm glow filled your heart — pink. You were glowing pink; he was glowing pink; the whole world was glowing pink.

Like it was a prayer, you whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over again — you counted in your head. Nine times over.

And there, holding Tetsurou Kuroo, your husband, your soulmate, the love of your life, in your arms — the pink world felt perfect.