#I like the fake tattoos judge me

[sincericida]

Not but suddenly I started thinking about it here:

Andrew Garfield as Dennis Nash in "99 Homes" (2015, dir. Ramin Bahrani)

[wonustars]

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader 𖥔 wordcount: 19.0k 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: nonidol!au, ex-mafia!mingyu, househusband!mingyu, afab!reader, catmom!reader, neighbour!verkwan, marshall officer!junhui and jihoon, ex-fiancè! seungcheol, fake marriage, mingyu loves to garden, mingyu has a large dragon tattoo on his back that is barely mentioned, mentions of the show Bluey and the movie Twilight, lots of domesticity and house work talk.

𖥔 note: i got this fic done earlier than expected but i have LOTS of people to thank because they are a huge part of why i was even able to get it done. firstly to my beta-readers, thank you, you were all so helpful and i really wouldn't have it done without you all @gyuswhore , @highvern , and @onlyhuis ♡. thank you to @wooahaeproductions , @hannieween , and june (again) for allowing me to put a cameo of you all in the fic! a big thank you to all the people who sent asks that helped me write some of the scenes in the story. thank you to a lot of the @svthub members who helped sm with this fic, esp @ourdawnishotterthanourday, @bitchlessdino, @seokgyuu, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil !! i couldn't have done it without you all and i'm so grateful ♡. i worked really hard on this fic and i've been talking about it for so long, so thank you to all of you who interacted with my posts and waited so patiently. i appreciate every single one of you and i hope you enjoy this story because i really love it too :). see you soonest - anna ♡.

𖥔 some songs i listened to while writing: lagi - bini, i wish - seventeen, sunny day - beabadoobee, chocolate - seventeen vocal unit. 𖥔 masterlist

-> smut tags/ warnings under the cut (18+ mdni!)

𖥔 smut tags: dom!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected penetrative p in v sex (don't do it!), breeding kink, multiple rounds, multiple positons, creampie, spanking, choking (barely), oral (f.receiving), spitting, pet names (reader: baby, wife) (mingyu: baby). 𖥔 warnings: mentions of weapon and drug trafficking, violence, reader is paranoid and anxious from time to time, a lot of inaccurate talk about legal stuff and witness protection, everything listed is talked about with as very little detail as possible.

The tension in the air is thick, not one word was uttered the whole car ride.

Everything still felt surreal, especially because the person you’re forced to live with for the next year is someone you aren’t particularly fond of. 

When you were told that you’d be put into witness protection due to your ex-fiance’s mafia bust, you didn’t expect that it would be spent with his right-hand man. The same man who you watched execute heinous acts under the volition of your ex. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry out orders, but witnessing him unleash his wrath onto others was enough for you to steer clear of him. 

You aren’t one to judge, especially because you were to be wed to the mafia boss himself. You knew he was partaking in shady business, but you didn’t know that innocent people’s lives were included in his scheme to make more money. 

“I think we’re here,” Mingyu breaks the silence for the first time since you entered the car. 

Your attention is brought to the large sign that is displayed in front of the gated community. The words “Bridgewater Heights” are plastered to the high cement wall that surrounds the area. A part of you is glad that it at least looks like a secure place to live and bougie too; the gated entrance requiring a passcode with guards sitting at the doors screamed wealth. 

Never in your life did you think you were going to be living in such an expensive-looking place. Even when you were still dating Seungcheol, who had money raining down on him constantly, you never desired this lifestyle. Maybe it was because you never understood the want to live in the suburbs, the city suited you better anyway.

 Those initial thoughts are offset as you stare out the car window. children happily playing in the streets, the sun shining down on them, their laughter seeping through the cracks of the car door as they skip around. Everything here seems so cheerful. you wonder if you could begin to find that type of joy if you stay here long enough too. 

As you approach the house you are forced to stay in, you realize that it looks like every other one in the neighbourhood. Large, modern, and painfully identical to your neighbours. A white picket fence lining the yard, with a front-facing garage that perfectly fits two cars. Large windows and a wrap-around porch tie it all together. You couldn’t help but be amazed at how grand everything looks, the difference is drastic from your cozy apartment back in the city. 

An audible gulp goes down your throat. It didn’t start feeling real till now, especially because you spent the hour-long car ride daydreaming about your old home. Reading a book on the couch while stroking your cat, Norbert’s fur. His purring in the back seat calms you down, but not enough that you can accept your fate of living with Mingyu for the next year. 

Your now “husband” parks in the driveway before popping the trunk open to unload the suitcases that carried half of your life. All your clothes, books, and trinkets are all sized down to sixty kilograms. It upset you to take only your most important things, but if it meant you’d be safe from your ex, you knew you had no choice but to agree. 

As you opened the door to your new home, your heart began to pound in your chest. 

You watched as Mingyu continued to haul everything from the car into the house; his large biceps bulging through his white tee as he carried the box that caged your now whining cat. Norbert’s meowing becomes more agitated with every passing second he spends in his carrier case, the guilty feeling pools in your stomach as his meows turn into cries. You hated keeping him in one place for long, especially for long car rides. 

Norbert has always been an active cat, running around, and exploring your old neighbourhood, and at the end of the day, he always came back. At night you two spent hours cuddling while you read your books; sometimes reading the words aloud as if your cat could understand what you were saying. 

Mingyu finishes up with the last of the boxes, taking a step back to look at the new house in all its glory. His hands on his hips as he sighs, admiring the work that had gone into building the house. You didn’t understand why he found the craftsmanship so interesting, but you decided not to think too hard about it. 

He turns to you with an apprehensive smile, his eyes glinting in the sun, “Home sweet home, I guess.” 

two. 

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward, to say the least. Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homey" as possible. 

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye candy, even though he wore his pink Shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of forty-plus-year-old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratched the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him goodbye, curious as to what the group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers, isn’t it? 

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raise a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check-up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyway, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 

From across the yard, neither you nor Mingyu notices Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awkward for newlyweds, he thinks to himself. 

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “Huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more. 

three.

“So, how’s the house? Do you guys have everything you need?” Jihoon asks over the phone. 

Being the marshall officer assigned to your case, he would take time out of his hectic workday to check up on you and Mingyu. You still remember the first time he had contacted you, informing you about your ex escaping a planned police raid. The rhythmic beating of your heart stopped the moment those words left Jihoon’s lips, and the fear of Seungcheol showing up at your home unannounced at any moment doubled within a second. 

You didn’t want to leave everything behind, especially because of how hard it was for you to build a life for yourself in your old city. But the other half of you was scared at the possibility of Seungcheol finding out about your new apartment and your new job; it was all too risky. 

Now that you’re here, a part of you wonders what you would have said if Jihoon told you that Mingyu was the man they were going to put into witness protection alongside yourself. Maybe if you knew from the beginning you would’ve refused, or at least asked to be placed somewhere that allowed you to be alone. 

“It’s fine Jihoon, we’ve unpacked everything, but our neighbours are quite noisy if I’m being honest,” you sigh, petting Norbert in your lap as you answer all of his questions. 

The first day you and Mingyu moved in, your neighbour Seungkwan took it upon himself to introduce you to Bridgwater. Not only did he give you the rundown of every family that lived on your block, but he also became very curious about you and Mingyu. Seungkwan’s questions hit you back to back as if you were being interviewed, and you don’t even remember how you answered any of them. 

“Who’s the handsome one carrying all your things?”

“Oh, that’s your husband? How long have you been married? How did you two meet?” 

“Do you two have any kids? No? Oh what a shame, this neighbourhood is filled with them. Does your husband have a twin brother? Don’t tell Vernon I said that — just joking!”

“Oh, who’s Vernon? He’s my boyfriend, he’s in the house somewhere, anyways why did you two decide to move to Bridgwater?” 

The questions went on for what felt like forever and before you knew it Mingyu had finished unpacking the first floor of the house. The place came fully furnished so you didn’t have much to do. But Seungkwan made you nervous to say the least, especially because you didn’t prepare to be quizzed on your first day in the neighbourhood. The only good thing to come out of that interaction was the brownies he baked, which tasted amazing, surprisingly enough. 

“Why? Should I look into it?” Jihoon suggests, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

You shake your head as if he can see you through the phone call. 

“No, it’s okay, one of them just likes to gossip I think,” you laugh. “Other than that we’re fine.” 

You hear Jihoon sigh out of relief, his day is already long enough. If he had to spend time looking into your neighbours to see if they had a criminal record, he would miss his dinner date. 

“Okay, good to know. I’ll call you again next week,” Jihoon says with a monotonous tone. 

A giggle leaves your lips, the exhaustion clear in his voice. You felt a little bad knowing he had to spend a lot of time on you and Mingyu’s case, but you were also thankful for the fact that you had someone to talk to from time to time. 

It's only been about a week since you arrived in your little suburbia ‘haven’, and you still haven’t made any friends in the neighbourhood. You don’t count Seungkwan… he was more like a pain in the ass than a friend if anything. Although his boyfriend Vernon wasn’t as bad; quiet and a little expressionless, at least he kept to himself. 

You hear the front door unlock with a beep, you already know who it is. 

Whipping your head to see Mingyu stepping through the front door, hands filled with grocery bags. His appearance is laughable, his tall stature and large muscles contrasting the pink Shiba Inu apron that he wears over his clothes. You weren’t sure where he had got it from or why he chose to wear it in public, but you don’t feel like it’s your place to question him. 

In the few days that you two have been living together, you begin to realize how different he is compared to his former mafia brothers. Mingyu had a knack for knowing his way around the kitchen, the whole house. He spent a lot of his free time cleaning, gardening, or making meals for the two of you. 

The two of you didn’t talk much, and there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air. Meals were eaten with minimal conversation, and during the nights you would read your books in the living room, Mingyu would sit on the opposite side attempting to get Norbert to warm up to him. 

“Norbert, please! Anytime but now, I have a shit ton of groceries that need to be put away!” You can hear Mingyu exasperate at the front of the house. 

Norbert’s meowing rings throughout the house and you already know that his claws are probably scratching away at Mingyu’s pants. From what you have gathered, Norbert isn’t very fond of Mingyu. You assume that he’s just not used to having another person around the house, but at the same time, you thought your cat would have started to get used to his presence by now. 

“Norbert, baby! Come and sit with me, I’ve got a new book for us to read,” you call out for him, saving Mingyu from your cat’s wrath. 

The pitter-patter of his claws grows louder as he makes his way towards you, Mingyu’s large sigh of relief following shortly after. You laugh to yourself at how much he likes to torment Mingyu, even though Norbert only weighs about twenty pounds and is a cat.  

The night goes on without another hitch. Mingyu prepares dinner for the two of you while you and Norbert dive into the first installment of Twilight. Reading aloud so your baby (cat) can follow along with the story about teenage vampires and werewolves. 

four. 

Mingyu was a man who thought he would never be able to escape his mafia, let alone be able to restart in a place that didn’t tie him to any of his illicit work. He never wanted to work for Seungcheol, nor did he want to live every day wondering if it was going to be his last. 

He sees himself as a simple man, and all his daydreams are centered around living a simple life. A home that’s fit for a family, a golden retriever to throw frisbees with, and neighbourhood barbecues. He thought it was all some far-fetched fantasy. 

It wasn’t until Jihoon got in contact with him, that’s when he realized that he finally had a chance at living the life he always dreamed of. What he didn’t know was that you would be the one he was going to be living with. But the moment Jihoon mentioned you, he knew that his wishes were more out of reach than he hoped. 

He didn’t have anything against you, but he still remembers the day you left Seungcheol. It's heavily ingrained in his memory, not only because your escape created an uproar, but it was also the day he realized he too needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

… 

“Boss? Wonwoo told me you wanted to talk,” Mingyu enters Seungcheol’s office, face painted with worry. 

The office faces the west side of the city, skyscrapers and clouds surrounding the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There sat Seungcheol, his hair tousled every which way due to his habit of constantly running his fingers through it. The most obvious indicator of Seungcheol’s stress is if his hair is a complete mess, and that is how Mingyu knew that there must be something wrong. 

“Y/n left,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks, head in his hands. 

His eyes are bloodshot, shoulders shaking as he cries to himself quietly. Seungcheol wasn’t prepared for you to leave, let alone disappear without a single goodbye.  He knew it was his fault too, and he knew why you left. The world flipped upside from that day onwards. Seungcheol hasn’t been the same since.

The air becomes thick, and Mingyu finds it hard to swallow. He knew how much Seungcheol adored you, and he knew that he would do anything for you. 

“What? Why? Did she say anything to you?” Mingyu panics, unsure what to say or how to comfort his leader. 

“No note, nothing,” Cheol sighs, picking at the chipped piece of wood on his desk. “All she left was her ring on the dresser.” 

“I’m sorry Cheol, I didn’t know.” Mingyu becomes meek, his voice softer than feathers falling onto the pavement. 

His stomach plummets to the ground. He had a feeling you found out what truly lies under Seungcheol’s business, but he didn’t know you would leave so hastily. He felt the guilt swirl throughout his body, but a part of him was relieved. Mingyu knew you weren’t meant for this lifestyle, and if you stayed any longer there would be no chance for you to escape. 

Wonwoo informed him that he told you about what Seungcheol does to bring money in. He told Mingyu that it wouldn’t be right to continue to let you live so carelessly without knowing what type of person your fiance is. 

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Mingyu found his way out of Seungcheol’s grasp too. He knows he should’ve felt bad, and that he should’ve at least found an excuse to leave Seungcheol. But he just couldn’t go through with it, he knew if he even spent a moment explaining himself, he would’ve never been able to leave. 

Mingyu was Seungcheol’s right-hand man, his confidant, and most importantly his best friend. Mingyu has seen Cheol grow into the person he is today, and it only makes him feel even more remorse. He knows he should’ve stopped him from becoming blinded by wealth, by power. But he didn’t and it caused him not only to lose his fiancée, but also his brother. 

Since that day, Mingyu has constantly pondered what could’ve been if Seungcheol hadn’t turned to mafia life. Would they have been happy? Would they have lived long lives with families of their own? There are so many unanswered what-ifs. He knows he can’t change his past anymore, but he knows that wants a better future. Even if it meant spending a year faking a marriage with his former best friend’s ex-fiancée. 

five. 

“Oh Y/n-ie! It’s good to see you, I swear I haven’t seen you leave the house since you’ve moved in,” Seungkwan snips, giving you a tooth-achingly sweet smile. 

You try to suppress your eye-roll as much as possible as he walks over to your side of the comically green grassed yard. Seungkwan’s hand is on his hip as he watches you make your way to your car. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Seungkwan. Just needed to pick up a few things for dinner. Mingyu spent the afternoon at the country club,” you return his fake smile, trying to keep up the facade of a doting wife. 

“Oh! Is that so? I swear I thought your husband did the housework in your home. He’s always wearing that pink apron around the neighbourhood.” Seungkwan pretends to act invested in your “married life”, but he’s trying to get whatever gossip he can out of you. His real goal is purely to entertain the neighbourhood aunties with any information on the newlyweds. 

Stopping in your tracks, his words catch you by surprise. You should’ve known that Seungkwan is an observant person, especially because he somehow knows everything about everyone in Bridgewater.

“Oh we split the chores evenly,” you let out a forced laugh, he offers to do the housework, and you think to yourself before continuing, “And he likes the apron, so who am I to deny his happiness?” 

Not wanting to be grilled by Seungkwan any longer, you hastily slip into your car before he can get another word in. 

…

“Norbert, please calm down honey, I’m trying to cook! And if I don’t end up eating neither will you,” you warn your cat to stop pawing at your leg. 

Norbert was extra clingy today, and knowing you weren’t the best cook in the world, you couldn’t afford to ruin the recipe for a second time. Yes, a second time. 

The first attempt at making alfredo for both you and Mingyu ended miserably, and thankfully you were smart enough to buy double the ingredients just in case any mistakes were to occur when you were cooking. The recipe online looked simple, and you even watched a few TikTok videos in an attempt to expand your knowledge. 

You thought that making a cream sauce and boiling some noodles would be pretty straightforward, but somehow, you burnt the boiling noodles. Seeing all the noodles stick to the bottom of the pan you decided to just leave the searing pot in the sink and worry about it later, which turned out to be another grave mistake. 

Mistake number two started when you thought the pot was cool enough to touch, earning you a sizzling burn on your soft skin. This explains Norbert’s clingy behaviour, witnessing all your fuck ups through his kitten eyes. You try not to swear in front of the baby but you couldn’t help but let out a few curses while you attempted to bandage up your burn.

 To say the least, you shouldn’t be let into the kitchen from now on. But you felt bad that Mingyu made food for the both of you instead of letting you fend for yourself, so you thought you could at least return the gesture. 

Norbert’s meows come to an abrupt stop as he hears the front door beep, making his way to greet Mingyu at the door. Except Norbert never greets Mingyu in a friendly way. Not more than ten seconds pass before you begin to hear Norbert’s hissing and clawing into the man's thighs. 

“Norbert! Please! Where’s your mom? Can’t you just sit with her so I can at least take my shoes off?” Mingyu begs, causing you to snort. 

Norbert doesn't listen to anyone but you, and even that is a rare occurrence for your sassy cat. 

“Honey, come to the kitchen!” you yell at your cat to return to his rightful side beside you. 

Mingyu comes speeding down the hallway, Norbert following him, his curious eyes peeking at your frame. He watches as you concentrate on making the alfredo sauce, tongue stuck out and a layer of sweat lining your forehead. 

The sun is setting behind you, the golden rays hitting your face, highlighting your features beautifully. Mingyu is entranced, his prior feelings of hunger are nothing but a memory of the past. 

You can feel his eyes on you, his stare boring holes into the side of your face and it causes your shoulders to stiffen slightly. Turning to face him, you quirk an inquisitive brow, not sure as to why he’s so trained on you. The gears begin to turn, and finally, the imaginary lightbulb begins to ding. 

“I was calling for Norbert,” you clarified. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re here too. I tried to make us dinner, I know you’re the cook but I felt bad that you’re always the one preparing food for us,” you shrug, trying not to focus on how handsome Mingyu looks in his golfing attire. 

His large biceps stretch the material of his shirt beyond belief, while the pants define his slim waist. The strands of hair are somehow perfectly placed, and his eyes are so kind, it would be stupid to deny his beauty. You can admit that Mingyu is extremely attractive, and you know you don’t owe Seungcheol anything, but the thought of being involved with Mingyu more than you already are could fuck things up for your future, especially knowing this arrangement isn’t permanent.

“I don’t mind though.” 

“I know you don’t but I do,” you sigh, finishing up the dish by adding the sauce to the pasta. 

Turning towards the island, you begin to plate the rest of the sides for dinner, trying your best to make sure that this batch is more edible than the first attempt. Mingyu continues to watch you, his arms crossed as he leans against the fridge. 

This is everything Mingyu wished for himself, the view of you plating the food you’re about to eat together, even if you’re his ‘best friend’s’ ex. Playing golf at the country club, even if it’s with Jihoon, who wanted to be able to meet without being inconspicuous. Coming home to a fluffy fur baby, even though Norbert hates his guts. It may not be perfect, or how Mingyu imagined it exactly, but it’s better than before. Better than when he was living every day like it was his last, working a job that brought him no happiness. 

“Did you burn yourself earlier?” he asks you, noticing the bandage you wrapped around your left hand. 

“Yeah, I’m not the best cook so, if the food doesn't taste right, sorry,” you apologize in advance, not wanting Mingyu to get his hopes up. 

He laughs at how apologetic you look, and you turn to give him a glare, his canines poking out of his smile like fangs. This is probably one of the first times you two held a full conversation. The only other time was when you were deciding on how the house was going to be run, and picking out your separate bedrooms. 

Mingyu was kind enough to let you stay in the master bedroom while he slept in the room across the hall from yours. If you took away the history you had with Mignyu and Seungcheol, you could imagine that the two of you are just like roommates. Living together, acquainted, but not exactly friendly or close. 

It isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, and you may have misjudged Mingyu at first. He’s a lot different than he was all those years ago, or maybe you find him to be different now because you didn't know him all that well when you were still with Seungcheol. 

You find Mingyu to be kind, soft-hearted, and a man who somehow knows a lot about taking care of the house. Even knowledgeable on how to clean Norbert’s litter box, and give him the occasional bath.

“What did you and Jihoon talk about at the country club?” you ask him, wanting to know if there’s any important news that should be brought to your attention. 

“Well he said that the FBI is still on the hunt for Seungcheol, but the rest of the guys have already been put into custody,” he sighs. 

“And Wonwoo?” 

“He’s fine, they pardoned him for giving up information,” Mingyu mutters, walking up to the space beside you. 

He takes the bowl of lettuce from your hands, adding in all the ingredients you prepped for the salad to have alongside your pasta. The brush of your hands makes you blush like some teenage girl, but you allow him to help you nonetheless. You didn’t realize how tiring cooking was because you’ve never had to cook for more than one person before. 

“That’s good to hear. If it weren’t for Wonwoo, I wouldn’t have been able to leave that damn place,” you laugh bitterly, folding the sauce into your noodles, making sure they were fully coated. 

“I was there, that day,” Mingyu mentions, his eyes trained on preparing the food in front of him, “Seungcheol was a wreck.” 

“I know, and I know it hurt him, but I couldn’t stand being there anymore. Especially after Wonwoo told me the truth.” 

“It’s okay, he’s not the same guy I knew from when we were kids either.” 

“I hope he’s moved on at least.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu shrugs, his eyes glassy, “I left a few days after you did.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, for the same reasons you did, and also for myself,” he sighs, moving away to grab plates from the cupboards. 

Standing there, you’re stunned. Mingyu was someone Seungcheol saw as his brother, and you thought they would live their mafia life together till the end. As cheesy as it sounds, there were times you felt that your ex cared more for Mingyu than any other person who worked for him. 

Mingyu begins to set the table, Norbert following closely as he peers at the counter to see all the food that you’ve made. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that even your cat was aware of the stiff atmosphere that blankets you and Mingyu. 

You don’t know if you should pry, so you just nod and help him with putting dinner on the table. And for the rest of the night, it was quiet. Eating in silence while Norbert watches Bluey in the living room, something that you’ve always put on for him just to keep him occupied while you and Mingyu eat dinner. 

After dinner was finished, Mingyu offered to wash the dishes, allowing you to relax and enjoy some episodes of Bluey with Norbert purring peacefully by your side. 

“Mind if I join?” Mingyu enters the living room, wearing sweats and a white tank top. 

You give him a shy smile gesturing for him to sit on your right side while Norbert lays on the cushion to your left. His taunt muscles distract you for a second, but you do your best to shake the attraction from your coursing veins.  The couch dips and Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. Probably because he was tired from the day he spent trying to pretend he was out golfing with Jihoon. 

“So what’s the show about?” Mingyu asks you, his eyes trained on your side profile. 

“A show about a dog family,” you chuckle, “Originally it was meant for Norbert to watch when I’m working or when we’re eating, but it’s pretty good.” 

“Really? Isn’t it for kids?” Mingyu snorts but continues to sit next to you, watching the said kids' show. 

“Yeah it is, but Norbert is a kid to me,” you laugh, giving Norbert extra pats. 

“He’s a little menace that one,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I don’t think he likes me very much.” 

“Norbert just needs to get used to you,” you shrug, “I’ve had him since I left Seungcheol, so he’s seen me at my worst, he might just be overprotective of me.” 

Mingyu nods, taking in everything you’re telling him. He understands how leaving your ex-fiance is traumatic and heartbreaking. He knows it wasn’t easy for you, but at least you had Norbert to help you heal. 

“It wasn’t an easy decision, and Norbert helped me stay strong. It was lonely without Seungcheol for a long time, and a part of me will always love who he used to be.” 

Heat overwhelms Mingyu’s body, and his heart breaks for you. He can’t imagine what it's like to love someone and find out they’re not the person you thought they were. He knew you tried to tolerate his work, but at some point, you were led to your breaking point. 

“I hope you know you did the right thing. Seungcheol was going down a dark path and you were able to get out,” Mingyu smiles at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“Thank you Mingyu, I appreciate that,” you return his smile. 

The two of you spend the rest of the night watching episodes of Bluey with Norbert, talking a little in between about the characters. Laughing at the scenes with Bluey and her younger sister, falling into a comfortable silence with each passing second. 

…

You feel warm, no, hot even. The sunlight hitting your face makes your eyes scrunch in discomfort. There's an ache in your shoulders as you begin to wake up from a very uncomfortable sleep. An arm pinning you down to the couch, a leg over yours. It takes you a while to begin to comprehend where you are and who is lying next to you. 

Mingyu’s snores fill your ears, heavy breaths tickling the back of your neck. You almost fall onto the carpet as you realize who exactly is holding you. Last night ended so peacefully, so much so that you don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with. 

Yet here you are, enveloped in his grasp, panicking and wondering how you’re going to escape without waking him up. And if matters couldn’t get any worse, you feel a hard bump brush against your lower back. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, he can’t be, you think to yourself. But you know what exactly is poking you as if this situation could get any more awkward. 

It's normal, right? Men get morning wood all the time, you thought to yourself. 

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself, slowly prying Mingyu’s arm from off your waist. 

He stirs in his sleep as you move off the couch but not enough to wake him up. As you stand up to walk away, you take one last peek at him, wondering how you two ended up falling asleep while watching Bluey of all shows. 

The usually sharp features are softened by his slumber, giving him a youthful look. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so peaceful, and it suits him. This neighbourhood suits him as if he’s been living here all his life. It makes you feel a little envious knowing how easy it is for him to assimilate. He remembers all the neighbours' names and says hello to everyone who passes him while he's working in the yard, he just made it all look so easy to forget his life in the bustling city. Although you can’t blame him, you can tell he loves it here because of how much care he puts into the house. You can’t help but wonder why he’s trying so hard knowing both of you will part ways by next year. 

six. 

While you spent the majority of the day holed up in your office trying to finish off the rest of your projects, Mingyu decided that it was a lovely day to try and bond more with Norbert. He wasn’t sure how to make the stubborn kitten fall for him, but he thought that a nice walk around the neighbourhood couldn’t hurt. 

The day had barely started and Norbert was already making a fuss. Mingyu isn’t well-versed when it comes to cats; he’s more of a dog person himself. So to his surprise, Norbert was very adamant about staying indoors today. 

“Don’t you wanna explore the neighbourhood, Norbert?” Mingyu tries to persuade the cat, which makes him feel like a fool. 

Norbert gives him a blank stare obviously, and Mingyu wonders why he’s even trying knowing that the cat probably can’t understand him anyway. Trying his best to compromise with the ever-so-stubborn Norbert, a light bulb goes off in his head. 

It surely wasn’t easy, and there were a few scratches here and there, but Mingyu finally was able to put Norbert into the basket of his bicycle. The cat meowed like crazy until he was hit with the fresh air and warm sunlight. His meows died down and he sat in the basket peacefully, watching the kids play on the street and the cars pass by. 

“See? Not so bad now is it?” Mingyu chuckles, noticing the shift in Norbert’s mood. He meows back while nuzzling into the safety of his blanket. 

“It’ll be a boys’ day today, your mom’s busy working,” Mingyu continues, even though the animal can’t understand what he’s saying.

Feeling the wind brush through his hair, Mingyu takes a deep breath of fresh air. A content smile made its way onto his face, he could get used to this. The neighbours of Bridgewater waved to him as he biked along the streets. It's so peaceful, everyone is happy, and Mingyu is happy. He loved to explore even if it was just by himself, even if it meant he was alone with his thoughts. 

“Mingyu darling, what are you doing out and about today?” one of the older women he sees daily calls out for him. 

“Good afternoon! Me and Norbert just wanted to explore today,” he smiles with a toothy grin. 

The woman blushes at his handsome visuals, trying not to get caught up in his charms. She looks behind his large frame, spotting the cat sleeping peacefully in the basket attached to his bike. Letting out a giggle, finding it quite funny that Norbert is a cat and not a dog, usually, you don’t take cats out for these types of things. 

“Where’s that wife of yours? I’ve only seen her a few times, but oh my, isn’t she so pretty? You got lucky you know,” she chuckles, patting Mingyu’s arm playfully. 

Mingyu’s eyes shine at the mention of you, he agrees that you’re pretty but it feels a little weird that you're referred to as his wife, knowing that it’s all a facade. 

“Thank you miss, I’ll have to let her know that you said that,” he replies kindly while Norbert stirs a little in his spot before returning to his sleep. 

“Please don’t call me Miss, it's so formal! Just call me Auntie, okay?” she returns his kind smile. “You know what, I’ve got some leftover kimchi, why don’t you take it home, for you and your wife.” 

Mingyu’s eyes widened, his heart warmed by her act of kindness. “Is that ok? You don’t have to feel obligated to do that.” 

“Oh please, you young people, always so polite. I want to! So please share it with your wife, make some kimchi stew for dinner,” she reassures him, leaving him at her front yard to fetch a container of said kimchi. 

She comes back with a huge tub, enough to feed them for a whole month maybe. Handing him over the large container, she reminds him to come back when they run out. Bidding her goodbye, Mingyu returns home from his bike ride successfully with a sleepy cat and a comically large tub of fermented cabbage in tow. 

…

The smell of kimchi stew wafts from the kitchen into your office causing your stomach to growl with hunger. Focused on your pending tasks, you didn’t realize how fast the time flew by while you were working. Glancing over at the clock you’re surprised that it's already a quarter to five.

Stepping out to see what Mingyu’s doing in the kitchen, you find his back turned to you, nursing a large pot of stew on the burner. His large frame is accentuated by a white tank top, the pink string of his apron strewn along his waist. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were drooling over the smell of the food or the sight of your muscular fake husband. 

“What are you cooking?” you call out, leaning against the door frame that leads to your workspace. 

Mingyu jumps at the sound of your voice, surprised that you’ve come out so early. He knows you tend to work for long periods, only coming out when you’ve fully completed your assigned projects. 

“Kimchi stew, the lady down the street gave us a huge tub,” he replies, still stirring the pot without looking back at you. “I took Norbert out for a bike ride and she offered so.” 

“You took Norbert for a bike ride?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

Norbert is the type of cat who doesn’t like getting picked up and knowing that information makes it hard to believe Mingyu was able to successfully put him into the basket attached to his bike. Imagining him fighting to get your very grumpy cat into the bike made you giggle, especially because you know how much Norbert doesn’t like Mingyu.   

“Yeah, after a few scratches, he got in and I think he liked it. He fell asleep for most of it though,” Mingyu snorted, recalling how much that furball of fury put up a fight till his body hit the basket. 

“It’s nice that you’re trying to bond with him, it just takes him a while to warm up to you.” 

“Yeah, I figured we just needed a boy's day while you were working.” 

“Hmm, anyways the kimchi stew, is it ready?” you inquire while your stomach’s impatience continues to grow with each passing second. 

“It should be good, do you mind setting the table for me?” he requests while taking the pot off the burner. 

You don’t say anything else, moving to the living room to turn on more episodes for Norbert before grabbing plates from the cabinets to place them on the small dinner table. 

The serving dish needed for the stew sat at the very top shelf of the cupboard and your arms were simply too short to grab it. Your movements come to an abrupt halt the moment you feel Mingyu stand close behind you, one hand on your waist while the other hovers over you to grab the bowl. 

“Let me get it for you,” he grunts, taking the dish in his hand to ladle in the stew. 

Heart pounding in your chest, his breath tickles the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine. Mingyu’s body encases yours as his arm comes back down to place the dish on the counter. 

Cursing yourself, you're thankful your back is turned to him or else he would be able to see the blush that’s starting to bloom on your cheeks. You mumble a small thanks before going to the table to resume setting the plates down for dinner. 

As you two eat in silence you think about all the moments you’ve had with Mingyu today. The time you slept on the couch until just now when he held you close. It didn’t even mean anything, it shouldn’t mean anything, yet it replays in your mind like clockwork. 

seven. 

The ringing of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts, placing your book down, you head over to answer the door. It’s none other than your gossip of a neighbour Seungkwan. 

“Lovely evening Y/n-ie!” He smiles brightly, inviting himself into the foyer of your house before you could even protest. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes yet again, stepping aside to allow Seungkwan to go on with whatever it is that brought him barging into your home. 

“Good evening,” you respond curtly, suspicious as to what he could need at this hour. 

“Vernon and I have some friends over for a little nightcap and dessert, do you and Mingyu want to join?” he asks, eyes never leaving yours. 

To a normal and maybe less paranoid person, one would assume that Seungkwan is just being a kind neighbour, but you’re not so easily fooled. The glint in his eyes makes you realize there’s probably an ulterior motive to his ‘act of kindness’. 

“Oh no it’s okay, it would be rude to impose,” you try to play it off politely, but the fucker wouldn’t budge. 

“Nonsense! I’m inviting you and Mingyu because I want you two there,” he explains, waving his hand at you.

Before you can refuse him even more, you hear Mingyu coming out of his room to check up on why you’re taking so long at the front door. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he calls out for you as he walks towards the foyer. 

“Everything’s all fine and dandy Mingyu, I just came over to invite you and Y/n over for some drinks and dessert!” Seungkwan informs him before you can get another word out. 

“That sounds like fun actually, why don’t we go baby?” Mingyu turns over to you, his eyebrows raised, his smile tight as he tries to silently tell you that he’s putting an act up for Seungkwan.

Still flustered by the pet name, you cough out a yes. Turning over to Seungkwan to give him a fake smile. He returns your smile, eyes squinted, you can see how hard the gears are working in that brain of his. You know that he probably finds you two odd because of how awkward you and Mingyu are with each other, but you attempt to play it off as normal as possible. 

“It’s settled then! Let's go, can’t keep everyone else waiting,” he exclaims as he opens the door, gesturing for the two of you to walk out first before closing the door. 

Crossing over to Seungkwan’s side of the yard, he opens the door for the two of you like the perfect host that you figured he would be. You cannot deny that his extroverted persona allows him to be so persuasive, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s a little too curious. 

“The newlyweds are here!” he calls out and five heads whip over to stare at you and Mingyu standing awkwardly in the foyer of their home. 

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, his palms rough, probably from all the work he does in the yard. Making your way over to the couch, a man with long hair gets up to pour you two drinks. This is the most that you two have come into contact with each other consciously if you don’t count the time on the couch. 

A part of you wonders if Mingyu realizes what happened this morning, but you’re too embarrassed to bring it up. So you’ll leave it and hope he doesn’t remember you two squeezed so intimately on the living room sofa. 

“Everyone, this is Y/n and Mingyu, they moved into the house beside ours a couple of weeks ago,” he introduces the two of you. 

As the two of you say your hello’s Mingyu pulls over to sit beside him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. The blush on your cheeks stays permanently as you’re practically sitting on his lap. You try not to blow your cover but it’s hard with so many people's eyes on you. 

“You both already know Vernon-ie, the one grabbing your drinks is Jeonghan and that’s his wife, Valerie,” Seungkwan gets you two acquainted with the couple before moving on. “That’s Joshua and Maren, his wife.” 

“Nice to meet you! I’m Valerie but you can just call me Val,” the woman with brownish black hair smiles at you, and you can only nod, still overwhelmed with the amount of people you just met, “So why did you guys choose to live in Bridgewater?” 

“We thought it would be a nice place to live, I work from home and Mingyu is currently taking a break. The first time we saw the listing, we knew it was going to be our forever home,” you lie straight through your teeth. 

There's a twinge of guilt that stirs at the pit of your stomach, you feel bad for lying to these people because of how kind they all looked. You even felt bad for lying to Seungkwan, albeit he can be a nosy little shit but at least he’s nice enough to introduce you to his friends.

“If you don’t mind me asking where did you and Mingyu meet?” Maren, the woman sitting beside Joshua asks with a curious sparkle in her eyes. 

You almost choke on your drink, eyes wide because you were not prepared for all these questions thrown at you. Thankfully Mingyu took the lead this time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles where he had his hand placed on your waist. 

“We met through a mutual friend, we were in university at the time,” he smiles warmly and Maren listens intently, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word. “The moment I saw her I knew I was going to marry her.” 

Mingyu turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and your cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time today. Even though his acting this way with you is all a facade your heart can’t help but skip a beat. 

“What! That’s so cute,” Maren gushes before glaring at her husband before hitting his arm jokingly. “Why can’t you say cheesy stuff like that?” 

Joshua’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but stutter. “Bro you’re making the rest of us look really bad right now.” 

Mingyu barks out a laugh and just shrugs nonchalantly knowing that no one is immune to his charms. Even if all of this is a lie, he can’t help but play into the sappy newly-wed trope with you, and it doesn't help that he finds you so caring and beautiful too. There’s something about the way you lean into him on the couch and the soft smile you give him while talking about your ��forever home”, you make it easy for him to imagine fake scenarios of how you two met. 

“What university did you two go to?” Jeonghan pipes up from his seat, his arm wrapping around Val as he sips on his glass of bourbon. 

“I went to Yonsei, I majored in statistics. Mingyu and I met at a club with our mutual friends,” you try not to sound too nervous while you piggyback off of Mingyu’s lie. 

The back of your neck feels hot from having everyone inquire about your history with Mingyu, and it doesn’t help that your ‘husband’’s sitting so close to you, his body heat transferring over to you. At least it wasn’t a complete lie, you did go to Yonsei and you majored in stats; just way before you met both Seungcheol and Mingyu. 

“What about you Mingyu?” Jeonghan moves on to him, and he perks up in his seat, mouth full of the cheesecake that Seungkwan made. The food fills his cheeks slightly and you giggle at how much he resembles a chipmunk. 

“I went to SNU, and majored in business,” he states after swallowing his dessert and clearing his throat. 

“Okay, enough with the interrogation. Can we talk about something else?” Vernon interrupts, obviously feeling bad for the fact that the rest of them have been asking you two questions for the majority of the night. 

The rest of the group laughs, probably because they know that Vernon doesn’t talk unless he’s prompted to. Although you don’t know him very well you could tell that he was more of a listening type. It makes sense that he and Seungkwan are together, he does enough talking for the both of them. 

You were more surprised by Mingyu’s answer though, you didn’t know that he went to SNU, if that was even the truth. Although he does look like the business type. There was something about him that exudes the energy of a CEO or a man who’s just good at making connections. He’s able to catch people's attention, his words carry the weight of someone who isn’t afraid to speak out loud. 

With the way he talked to Seungkwan’s friends tonight, you realized how well-articulated he is, and the fact that he’s able to get people to listen to what he has to say. Although he’s a little goofy, if you didn’t know him you would’ve assumed he’s someone important just by how he carries himself outside of the house. There’s a swell of pride within you when you watch him talk about your ‘past’, and for some reason, you don’t mind it. If anything, you’re looking forward to more moments like this. 

…

The rest of the evening went along smoothly after that, and by the time everyone was ready to leave it was nearing one in the morning. You helped Seungkwan clean up in the kitchen, putting away the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The two of you were quiet for a bit, only talking when you asked him about what goes where. 

A part of you felt bad for being so curt with Seungkwan in the beginning. Maybe you were wrong about him and he just likes to be a nosy nieghbour, maybe it’s his way of making friends. You can’t help but be guarded due to your past and you misjudged him too quickly. 

Maybe it was the glasses of wine you had or the fact that you saw a different version of him. But there’s a lovable side to him, and also a side that doesn’t mind embarrassing himself a little to get a laugh out of his friends. 

“I want to thank you for inviting me and Mingyu tonight, all of our friends are in the city so we don’t get to see them often,” you confessed. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to other than Mingyu or Norbert.” 

He turns to you with a genuine smile, and you notice that maybe that glint in his eyes is permanent, a glint that shows his happy demeanor and not the type that’s meant to show his mischievousness. 

“I’m glad you had fun because you’ll be invited to things like these from now on,” he expresses, his smile reaching his eyes now. 

“I appreciate it, Mingyu needs more friends in the neighbourhood, ones that are his age and don’t constantly drool over him,” you roll your eyes, recalling all the aunties who stroll past your front yard daily. 

“I can be his friend but I can’t promise I won’t drool over him,” he giggles, causing you to slap his arm playfully. 

“Hey! Leave my husband alone, you have your own. Don't get greedy now,” you feign anger at him, glaring at him before bursting out laughing. 

Mingyu walks into the kitchen, handing over the rest of the dishes that were left in the living room. His eyes dart back and forth between you as he realizes how much closer you two have gotten tonight. 

“Thank you, Gyu, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by Y/n you can always live with me and Nonie,” Seungkwan giggles as he calls him by his nickname, giving his large bicep a squeeze. 

You gasp at how forward Seungkwan is, your hand placed over your chest as you pretend to be offended by his words. He only glances back at you to stick his tongue out. 

“You’re so childish, he’s my husband,” you attested, pulling Mingyu by his arm so he could stand closer to you. “And I’m not bossy, Mingyu just enjoys doing housework!” 

Mingyu is even more confused now, but he cracks a smile when he sees how playful you’ve become. He concludes that maybe you just had a little more to drink than normal and goes along with you and Seungkwan’s teasing. 

“Woah that’s enough you two, there’s enough Mingyu for everyone,” he laughs and you give him a sour look. He was obviously feeling himself too much in that moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at how cocky he sounds. 

“Let’s go home Gyu, before Seungkwan decides to hold you hostage.” you huff emphasizing his nickname before you drag him over to the front door. “Bye Seungkwan, I already know I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Waving goodbye to Kwan, you pass Vernon on your way as he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while the two other couples mingle amongst themselves. 

“Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you, but it’s way past her bedtime,” Mingyu muses, motioning over to you. Your eyes feel droopy and you were practically hanging off of Mingyu’s body as he held you by the waist. 

They all say their goodbyes to the two of you with promises to meet soon again. Mingyu guides you through the front door and across the green grassed lawn back to your place. 

The time you spent with everyone tonight allowed you to recognize that maybe it isn’t so bad living here. Especially if you’ll be able to talk to them more often. No one but Mingyu knows about your past, and that reassures you to start new friendships, even though they’re temporary.

eight.

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing incessantly, to the point you almost threw it across your room. It wasn’t until you read the name “Jihoon” flashing across the screen, causing you to fully wake up from what feels like a hundred years' worth of sleep. You silently promised yourself to remind Mingyu to not let you drink so much wine at Seungkwan’s house again. 

“Jihoon? Is everything alright? You usually check up on us in the evening,” you stammered, sleep still evident in your voice. 

“Y/n, hey sorry to call so early but…they’ve located Seungcheol,” he sighs, the news of his whereabouts hanging in the air. 

Gulping nervously, your palms sweat. The way Jihoon sounded a little apprehensive made you feel uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Go on.” 

“He used a burner to call a friend of his I’m guessing, but we were able to ping it and he’s in the town next to yours.”

“What?!” Now you’re fully freaking out, pushing your comforter to go and find Mingyu. 

“I’m really sorry Y/n,” Jihoon sounds just as stressed as you are. 

Searching around the house you see him sitting on the sofa with Norbert beside him, they’re watching more episodes of Bluey, but he pauses the show after noticing the panicked look on your face. You go to sit beside him putting your phone on speaker so the both of you can hear what Jihoon has to say. 

“You’re on speaker, Mingyu’s right beside me,” you mention before allowing him to continue. 

His sigh is audible through the speakers of your phone, and your blood pressure rises. If Jihoon is this worried then you should probably just be as worried. 

“They found his location to be at a motel in the next town over, we don’t know how he found out but he might be looking for you two,” he explains carefully. “I’m sending over another Marshall officer to watch over you two while we continue to track Seungcheol. You two should be safe with him but try not to leave the neighbourhood for now, it could get dangerous if he ends up seeing either of you.” 

“Okay got it, thank you Jihoon,” Mingyu replies, his hand subconsciously placed over yours as you two bear the news of your very dangerous ex potentially on the hunt for you two. 

Jihoon gives you two his regards before he hangs up, probably too busy to linger on the phone for any longer. 

Giving Mingyu a nervous look, he can tell how hard this information is for you to handle. After a month of being here in what felt like a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, you’re pulled back into reality. You’re reminded of why you’re really here, more scared than ever. 

The tears start to fall before you even realize and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, instead, he pulls you into your arms and tries to comfort you as much as possible. Even though he’s just as scared as you are, he’s determined to protect you, to protect his home, even Norbert. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he whispers into your ear as you cry into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt. 

“You did nothing wrong, Mingyu,” you blabber as his hand rubs your back, trying to console your sobs. “I’m just so scared, what if he hurts us? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

“Hey hey, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Don’t forget where I came from before all this,” he reassures you, pulling you back to look you in your eyes with a solemn stare. “He’s not going to touch even a single hair on you, or Nobert.” 

You giggle a little at the fact that he’s always so inclusive to the cat who’s a bitch to him but you’re happy to know that he’s willing to protect all of you. He laughs with you, wiping away the tears that have fallen from your eyes, his touch as gentle as a mouse despite how large his hands are. 

“You’re the best fake husband, I hope you know that,” you mumble as you go back into his embrace. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” 

“Thank you Y/n, you’re the best fake wife too,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head just like he did last night. 

Except this time there’s no one to fool, there’s no one to lie to. It’s just the two of you, and the subtle meaning behind his affection makes you wish that it was Mingyu you fell for all those years ago instead. 

…

Jihoon: I have an officer who’ll be patrolling the area, his name is Jun Wen. Here’s his badge number: ###### and picture. Just in case someone tries to come and impersonate him, also don’t mind if he’s a little weird, that's just how he is; and yes, he knows what he’s doing so don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. 

An eyebrow quirks up as you read the last part of his text wondering what he meant about “weird”. As if on cue, the sound of the doorbell reverberates throughout your house.  That must be him, you thought to yourself. 

Mingyu leaves his spot on the couch and goes to get the door. He's become extra protective of you since the call you had with Jihoon this morning. It allows you to relax a little knowing he’ll be the one to answer the door from now on. 

“Uh, Y/n? Why’s there some guy meowing at Norbert on our front porch?” Mingyu asks you with a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Huh?” you’re just as confused as he is, but you walk over to Mingyu with your phone in hand regardless. 

Looking down at the picture Jihoon sent and back at the man squatted beside Norbet, you realize this is what Jihoon meant about him being weird. From the picture that was sent, he looks like a perfectly normal guy, maybe he just really likes cats? You wondered to yourself.

“Oh that’s Jun, the guy Jihoon sent over,” you mumble, showing Mingyu the picture on your phone. 

“Huh,” Mingyu says, dumbfounded. 

Opening the door you don’t say anything, just watching the man named Jun make noises at your cat, who looks disgruntled and very annoyed at the random human disturbing his sleep. He’s dressed in normal clothing instead of a uniform, probably so that the neighbours don’t ask any questions. 

“Mah-ow, mahhh-owww,” Jun keeps on making weird noises, blissfully unaware of the two of you staring at him from the now-opened front door. 

“Uh excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” you call out to him, the confusion still very clear on your face. 

Norbert hears your voice, ears perking up before he slips past Mingyu’s legs to go back into the house. His little claws clack against the hardwood as he makes his way onto the couch to continue with his afternoon nap. 

“Aw man, you guys scared the cat away,” he sighs animatedly before standing up to greet the two of you with his hand out to shake. “Hi, my name’s Jun, I’ll make sure bad guys won’t come and attack.” 

You and Mingyu exchange looks before looking back at Jun, then back at each other again. This is definitely not the type of guy you were expecting, but Jihoon trusts him, and you trust Jihoon’s judgment. 

“We didn’t-uh, never mind, anyways I’m Y/n, this is Mingyu,” you start to explain that you're not the one to scare Norbet away, but you quickly change your mind. Instead, you return his handshake with a curt smile. 

“Well, I'll just be patrolling around the neighbourhood, you’ll see me parked a few houses down once in a while. If you need anything, here’s my number.” He hands you his card which is filled with doodles of cats. 

He really does like cats, you confirm. 

He walks away with a wave before going back into his car and driving off. Mingyu bursts out laughing, hands clutching his stomach before he sighs, wiping off fake tears from his eyes. 

“That’s the guy that’s going to be helping us? Really?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’d know the answer to Jun’s odd behaviour. 

“Hey, don’t ask me, ask Jihoon,” you slap his arm playfully before laughing with him. 

“Well, hopefully, nothing bad happens from now on, I honestly think we could manage without a bodyguard of sorts, or whatever he is,” Mingyu snorts, off put by Jun’s personality. 

“Jihoon appointed him, so I’m sure he’s well trained. He wouldn’t have sent him over otherwise,” you rationalize, not wanting to doubt the person who’s meant to be protecting you from Seungcheol. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go inside, I’ll make us kimchi pancakes,” Mingyu beckons, and you close the door behind you before following him to the kitchen. 

Jun being there just gives you an extra layer of reassurance, and you know Mingyu is just as capable, but it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Seungcheol is a smart man, and you’re not sure what tricks he has up his sleeve, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

…

“Okay so now we just have to mix the pajeon mix with the kimchi,” Mingyu instructs, once again wearing his pink ruffled apron, but this time you’re wearing a matching one. 

With your hair tied up, and hands messy with kimchi pancake mix, you follow every instruction that Mingyu gives you. It was his idea to teach you to cook, especially because he knows you’re not well-versed in the kitchen. 

“Now what?” you ask, looking up at him for guidance, but before you can instruct him you spot the flour splattered on his nose. “Hey, you’ve got a little bit of… lemme just—” 

Not realizing your hands were covered in the wet batter you end up getting the mixture all over his face too. Gasping at what you’ve just done, Mingyu looks at you with wide eyes before taking some of the batter in the bowl and smearing it on your face. 

“Hey! I didn’t mean to, why’d you do that?” you let out a boisterous laugh, running away from him before he could catch you again. 

“I know you did that on purpose!” he yells out, chasing you around the kitchen island in circles. 

“No, I didn’t! Stop chasing me!” you squeal as he starts to close the distance between you two. 

“Liar, I’m getting my revenge!” he laughs along with you, hot on your trail. 

The two of you run in circles for a while till you have to catch your breath, causing you to slow down. Mingyu takes this opportunity to finally be able to get a hold of you, wrapping his hands around your waist with little effort before placing you on the counter. 

“Say your final words now,” he fakes a serious tone, his crinkled as he tries to hold back his laughter. 

Before you can get another word in he tickles your sides causing you to squirm against him as your back hits the counter. The bowl filled with kimchi pancake mix is long forgotten, half empty because of how much of it got onto both your clothes. 

“Ok stop! I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I promise,” your words getting cut off by your laughter, Mingyu not relinquishing his hold on you. 

He stops for a moment, his finger pointed at you, “You promise?” 

You nod innocently, his upper body flushed against yours, legs intertwined at his waist as he pins you down to the counter with his other hand. 

“Not!” you bite the finger pointed at you, but Mingyu’s reflexes are too fast, his large hands pinning your wrists to the counter once more. 

The two of you have calmed down considerably since then, both tired from running around the kitchen. Your laboured breaths are the only thing that can be heard within the confines of your home. Mingyu’s face is dangerously close to yours, and if you leaned forward your lips would touch. 

The pounding in your chest doesn’t subside and Mingyu’s eyes don’t leave yours. His strong arms are perfectly within your line of sight, and at this moment you feel like you and Mingyu are the only people in the whole world. There are no fears or doubts, no scary ex hunting you down. Just you and Mingyu. 

Without even thinking, you both lean forward and capture each other’s lips in a soft kiss. You can tell he’s unsure at first, his hands loosening around your wrists, being as careful with you as he was this morning when he wiped away your tears. But you want more. 

Pressing your lips against his with more vigour, your legs wrap around his waist to pull his pelvis closer to yours. A grunt leaves Mingyu’s lips, he takes this action as a signal to kiss you more passionately. His tongue laps against yours, his hands lifting you so you’re both upright. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper, feeling the wet open-mouthed kisses he begins to press against your neck. 

Before you can get any further, a cat meows beneath the two of you, his head turned in confusion. You pull away from him first, staring at your menacing cat, Fucking Norbert, you curse him out in your head before hopping off the counter and dusting yourself off. 

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can go back to making the pancakes,” you smile awkwardly up at Mingyu. 

“Oh okay, me too, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. 

Before you head to the washroom in your room you turn around once more and give Mingyu a quick peck on the lips. His arms wrap around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss once more. But you stop him before he can go any further, laughing at how needy he has gotten. 

“Let’s do that more often,” you giggle before running off to the washroom. 

Mingyu sighs with content, his cheeks rosy from your flirting. With you gone, he sticks his tongue at Norbert in frustration. What a cockblock, he says to himself in his head. Norbert meows in response before walking back to his spot on the couch. 

No one’s ever made Mingyu feel the way you just did. At that moment he realized how fucked he is, you’re only here with him for the next eleven months, then what? Do you two go on with your lives separately? And you two are supposed to just forget everything? The more he thinks about it, the more determined he is to stay. The more determined he becomes to make you his and to give you the life you deserve. 

The love you deserve. 

nine. 

“Afternoon, Jun!” you wave from the porch as you see his car approaching your driveway, his windows down, hair flowing through the wind. 

He looks so carefree despite how important his job is, and it makes you a little envious of his lighthearted personality. He must have a happy life out of work because you swear no one is this lax with a job like his. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n,” he gives you a big smile, his little satchel wrapped around him as he makes his way over to you. 

It’s been about a week since Jun has been patrolling the nieghbourhood, and Seungkwan’s asked a few questions about the cute but odd guy frequenting your house. The quickest lie that you could come up with was that he’s your best friend visiting from the city. You told him that he works at the home office and that he comes over from time to time to work on another project with you. 

After that day, Seungkwan stopped asking so many questions, leaving you alone to sit and read with Vernon on their porch.

“Do you want to have lunch with me and Mingyu?” you ask him. “He made enough that I know we would have leftovers otherwise.” 

“My wife packs my lunch actually and she doesn’t like it when I come home with a full container.” He shrugs, taking out the cutely wrapped rilakkuma bento box from his satchel. 

“What! That’s so cute, I bet you love her lunch boxes,” you giggle, marveling at how much care his wife had gone into packing him food for the day. 

He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a bashful laugh, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his wife. 

“Well she’s the only one whose food tastes exactly like my mom’s, maybe I’ll bring her around so you can meet her!” Jun’s eyes shine as he talks about his wife, obviously, head over heels for her. 

You find it endearing how much his demeanor changes from silly Jun to an in-love Jun. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t subside as you watch how he goes on about her, and their cats Open, Close, and Lock. It makes you wonder if anyone would talk about you that way, even when you’re not there, or when it’s not some lie to tell to your neighbours and their friends.  

“That’s so sweet Jun, what’s her name?” you ask, wondering if you could make a new friend out of her too. 

“June!” he replies, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun. 

“Her name is also June?” you try to get more clarification on her name. 

As if Jun himself couldn’t get any weirder, he has three cats named Open, Close, and Lock, as well as a wife with the same name as him. You try to process all this information but you feel like it’s too early in the day to be thinking so hard. 

“Yeah! I’m Jun without an E and she’s June with an E,” he answers proudly. 

You leave the Jun lore for another time, instead asking him about other things going on in his life. He’s not as bad as you thought he would be, and you find that he’s actually very fun to talk to. Jun’s actions are always so animated, using his hands a lot while he’s talking. It seems like you’ve made another friend yet again. 

As you two make your way to the kitchen, Mingyu can hear your laughter ring through his ears. Two sets of footsteps make their way over to him, he knows Jun is just here because it’s his job but can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. 

“Hey Jun,” Mingyu greets him flatly, not really into the fact that he’s the reason his wife is laughing so hard right now. 

He has no right to feel jealous but he can’t help it, especially after the kiss you two shared the other day. The two of you haven’t gotten that intimate since that kiss in the kitchen and even though he wants it to happen again, it has to be on your terms. Even though he craves you with each waking hour, he wants to make sure he isn’t overstepping any boundaries. 

“Jun is going to eat with us for lunch, is that okay?” You go up to him, placing a hand on his bicep before giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu’s cheeks flush at your small gesture of affection, his eyes moving from where your hand is placed to your eyes. Looking up at him with doe eyes, you smile at him. Even though he doesn’t like the idea of you and Jun laughing together, he could never say no to you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he returns your smile and you whisper a small thank you before placing a kiss on his cheek, walking away to watch T.V. with Jun on the couch. 

He stands at the stove, a pan of grilled chicken to pair with your salads. A hand comes up to touch the cheek that you kissed, he smiles to himself as he continues to cook lunch for you two. 

It seems as though every day he spends with you, the harder he’s falling. He can’t help it, especially when you’re much more affectionate with him now. 

He fantasizes about the day you decide to no longer sleep in separate rooms across the hall from each other, and getting to wake up to you and your beautiful face every morning.  He watches you laugh with Jun in the living room and silently wishes that you’ll fall as hard as he has.

ten.

With every passing day, the more you worry about Seungcheol’s whereabouts. You’re safe here, and people are looking over you but you can’t help but be paranoid. You wonder if you’re going to have to live every day in fear. But thankfully, with Mingyu beside you, it becomes a little more bearable. 

It wasn’t until today that you realized that you could finally breathe right. You awoke to another call from Jihoon, who seems to only call about important matters early in the morning. He suggests that you get Mingyu, wanting both of you to be on the call. 

Your mind is spiraling. The last time Jihoon called he had given you bad news. 

“What’s wrong Jihoon?” you ask him apprehensively, not sure if you’re mentally prepared to hear what he has to say. 

Both you and Mingyu sat on the couch with bated breaths, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mingyu has an arm around you, your legs on top of his as he holds you close. He didn’t even have to say anything, his silence was enough to indicate how nervous he was. 

“Guys, don’t be so nervous, now I’m getting nervous!” he sighs. 

“I can’t take this, just say it already, you’re killing me over here Ji,” Mingyu whines, squeezing you a little tighter to soothe his nerves. 

“Well, we found him. Jun was able to put him in custody and he’s been at the station for a couple of hours now,” he finally reveals, hearing the two of you squeal like a bunch of school girls over the speakers. “I know you don’t want to see him Y/n, but if you want you can come down and talk to him. Closure and shit.” 

Mingyu looks over at you the moment Jihoon mentions you visiting your ex, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head. To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready to face him, but a part of you is curious about what he’s like now. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him, but only if Mingyu comes with me,” you mutter, playing with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt absentmindedly. 

You think of all the scenarios that could play out the moment you meet with Seungcheol again, but you know that if you want to shed the rest of your old self. You need to finally face him and gain the closure you deserve. 

And the closure that Seungcheol deserves too. 

…

For the rest of the day, you and Mingyu have a little self-care night before your confrontation with Seungcheol. Your nerves are at an all-time high, even Norbert could tell you were anxious; constantly staying by your side, even when you were showering, working, or eating. 

You weren’t sure what you were going to say to Seungcheol when you see him, or how you’re going to even feel. It’s been years since you’ve faced him, you just know that if Mingyu is there everything will be alright. 

For some reason, Mingyu’s presence always calms you down. His comforting words and strong demeanor help you stay afloat in your deep sea of worries. Just like Norbert, you don’t think he realizes these past few months with him have helped you overcome a lot of your paranoia. The more you got to know him, the more you recognized how soft and loving he really is, despite his past. 

“You have to stay still, okay?” you mumble as you continue to slather the face mask all over Mingyu’s skin. 

Sat on top of the bathroom counter, Mingyu stood between your legs as you concentrated on the task at hand. His own hands placed on the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to finish. 

When he proposed a self-care night, you didn’t think he’d agree to go as far as doing skin care with you. Obviously, you were very wrong, and it kind of warms your heart that he’s willing to do even something as silly as this and then watch Bluey with you on the couch. 

“Y/n, it tickles,” he whines, hands gripping harder on your thighs as he fights the urge to laugh. 

“Do not laugh! You’ll ruin it,” you try not to giggle, your own face mask starting to crack. 

“Okay, sorry but you look so silly right now,” he chuckles, his eyes trained on you. 

Even with your hair tied up and a fluffy bunny-ear face wash headband, he still finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter to him what you look like, just the fact that you’re here, with him, it’s all he needs to be happy. 

“Done!” you flash a proud smile before hopping off the counter. 

Before you can leave the bathroom, Mingyu grabs your wrist and turns you around till you're flush with his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s plotting right now. Instead of saying anything more he just places a peck on your lips before whispering a small “thank you”, letting you two carry on with your night. 

You just laugh and shake your head at him before heading over to the couch to watch more episodes of Bluey. Norbert claims his rightful spot beside you while Mingyu sits on your other side. 

Tomorrow may be scary and you have a lot of thoughts running through your head, but spending the night peacefully with Mingyu and Norbert silences your worries enough to relax in the meantime. What you don’t expect is the constant thought of wondering if this is what your life would be like every day if you decide to stay in Bridgewater after the year is over. 

eleven.

The car ride to the police station is quiet. Mingyu’s hand is in yours as he tries to console your overthinking. There isn’t much he can say to help you at this moment, but the least he can do is show you that he’s here. He doesn’t want to say anything that could potentially overwhelm you, he just wants to show you how much he cares. 

By the time the car reaches the station, your palms are drenched in sweat, but you want to stay strong. You want Seungcheol to know how happy you are now, without him. You want him to see how different you are now after all these years, how you’re better off without his tainted love. 

“Y/n, Mingyu,” Jihoon greets you at the door, nodding to you. 

The ever so stoic Jihoon. He’s a man of very few words but you could tell that he was rooting for you. 

The walk over to where Seungcheol was being interrogated felt longer than normal, but in reality, it only took a few seconds to reach the door. Jihoon gives you a look before opening the door, one that’s silently asking you if you’re sure. You only nod with a determined gleam in your eyes, allowing him to unlock the door and letting you see your ex after so many years. 

His black hair looks the same it did all that time ago, except it was longer now and a little messy from him running his fingers through it. You could tell he was exhausted, and it broke your heart a little. 

There are feelings of anger resurfacing the moment your eyes lock with his, but also feelings of sorrow and pity. You’re reminded of all the memories you made with him, the happiness, the sadness, and the solace in between. But you grieved the loss of your love with him a long time ago, and even though there are fragments of those feelings now, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

“Y/n,” Seungcheol’s voice cracks upon seeing you. 

Your chest burns and it feels like all the air in your lungs has dissipated. There’s a dullness to his gaze, almost like he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be. You should’ve known that Seungcheol lost his soul all those years ago when he decided to sell it for never-ending wealth. But here he is, in front of you: defeated, tired, heartbroken. There’s a small part of you that will always care for him, yet you know that you’ll never love him the way you used to. 

“Cheol,” you whisper, your back against the door, your body not wanting to get any closer to him than you have to.

“Y/n, please I never wanted us to end up this way, please. Please,” he tries to beg, to stand up, but his hands are handcuffed to the table. His wrists have turned red from trying to escape from his chains. It’s no use, he won’t ever be able to get as close as he is now. 

A single tear falls from your eyes watching his desperate attempts to reach you. But the room feels far too big now like the two of you are miles apart. So you stay put and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say after so many years.

“You dug your own grave, Seungcheol. I tried, I did. But how could you keep all that information from me? Selling illegal weapons may be one thing, but involving all those innocent people? Did you lose your damn mind? I couldn’t live with myself knowing how many people you hurt. Then you turned to drug trafficking? Did you really think I could marry someone like that?” you raise your voice at the end. 

Your chest is heaving from not taking a single breath to stop, to think, just saying whatever your heart is telling you to say. 

“Y/n, please! Hear me out, I want to make it work-” he begs and begs, but you cut him off.  

“There’s nothing to work out.”  

“I just wanted to have a secure future with you, I was going to quit after our wedding, please you have to believe me,” he keeps going, but you don’t want to hear it anymore. 

You scoff at his attempt to justify his actions, but you know better. The man in front of you will say anything to get you back into his life, but you don’t buy his bullshit. The more money he earned, the greedier he got, and the higher his ambitions got, he wasn't the man he was when you first met him. The constant reminder of him leading a dark path keeps you grounded. 

“You lost me the moment you decided to hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Your voice is stern, you don’t want to continue to drag this out knowing all he’s going to do is plead for you to come back to him. 

“Y/n please, I can’t live without you, even after all these years, I can’t sleep, nothing. I need you.” The tears begin to leave his eyes, but you do your best to stay strong. 

All you can do is shake your head at him, his words going through one ear and out the other. His sobs and pleading shake you to your core, but it doesn’t hurt to hear after knowing all the evil things he’s done. 

“But I don’t need you, I’m happy, I’m in love again. I have friends that care about me,” you countered.

 You're breathing heavily, trying to stay as calm as possible. You had no more tears left to shed for him. 

“It’s Mingyu isn’t it?” he asks, but you don’t give him any indication that his prediction is correct. 

Your heartbeat picks up at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and you’re not sure how Seungcheol found out about the two of you. At this point you don’t even care, because the happiness you deserve is waiting for you outside the very door you stand against. No one will get in the way of the reason why you’re able to breathe right again, especially not Seungcheol.

“That doesn't matter,” you defended, not wanting to speak to him for any longer. 

“But it does. Just tell me it’s not Mingyu, anyone but him please,” he continues to cry, the rattling of his handcuffs burning your eardrums. 

You’ve gotten your closure, the figurative shackles that Seungcheol had you in are finally broken. There’s a sense of relief to being able to face him without completely breaking down. Your heart no longer belongs to him, and neither do your fearful thoughts. 

“I don’t owe you anything anymore Seungcheol. Goodbye.” You end the conversation, turning around to close the door without looking back. 

His pleading can be heard through the metal, but you don’t dare turn back, you don’t dare to let him have his hold on you anymore. Closing the door of the interrogation room felt like closing the door to a chapter of life. And finally, after everything that has happened, you feel free. 

“You’re in love with me?” Mingyu’s voice is heard through all the commotion. 

He stands there with a hopeful look in his eyes, a small smile dancing along his lips. You roll your eyes at him as if it wasn’t already obvious how much you care for your fake husband. 

Walking up to him, you engulf him in a tight hug, your head buried in his chest as tears of relief leave your eyes. 

“Of course I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” you laugh, holding him tighter, so tight that you’re sure that he’ll never leave your side, even if he wanted to. 

twelve. 

The drive back to the house felt like a breath of fresh air. Wind blowing through your hair with the windows rolled down, Mingyu’s hand on your thigh, music blasting through the speakers. It felt like freedom. 

“Can I hear you say it again?” Mingyu turns to you while he’s stopped at a red light, his puppy-dog eyes are too cute to resist. 

“I love you,” you smile at him, placing your hand on top of his. 

The glistening in his eyes looked like it came straight out of a movie, they glittered in the sunlight, a reflection of his very being. 

“I love you too, did you know that?” he blushes, giving you a sweet kiss before returning his attention to the road. 

The two of you stay quiet for the rest of that way back, savouring the sweet moment. You still can’t wrap your head around everything that has happened during your stay at Bridgewater, especially because you’ve somehow found love again. A love that’s sweet, one that doesn’t feel as worrisome. 

“Home sweet home!” Mingyu announces the moment the car rolls into the driveway. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts and Mingyu gets out to open the door for you. The second the door closes he cages you between him and the side of the car. His lips softly hit yours and you moan out of surprise. The kiss is slow and sweet, and butterflies erupt in your stomach immediately. 

You haven’t kissed him properly since that day in the kitchen but you don’t mind the wait. If anything it causes you to feel hungry for more. Mingyu’s hands on your waist are pulling you tighter with each passing second, but making out in the middle of your driveway, where everyone in the neighbourhood can see, pulls you out of your lustful thoughts. 

“Let’s go inside?” You detach your lips from his, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the front door. 

Once you two are inside, without any potential prying eyes you pull him back into a kiss. It’s sloppy and filled with more passion than the previous times you two were this close. You don’t want to stop feeling him against you. The firm grip he has on your waist travels under your shirt, his hands against your bare skin leaving a burning sensation in the best way. 

There’s a silent agreement between the two of you. You both know where this is heading but no one stops to take a break, to tell the other that it is time to let go. You continue to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue glide against his, your fingers running through his hair. It's addicting, Mingyu’s lips are intoxicating and all you want is to get lost in the arousal. 

“I wanna make you feel good, so good till all you can remember is me, no one else,” Mingyu mumbles against your neck, his lips trailing lower as you whimper in approval. “Tell me, is that what you want?” 

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you feel him lick and suck the skin on your collarbone.  

Backing away, you can see how the love and adoration in his eyes are tainted with hunger. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, there’s a darkness to his gaze and you gulp silently. Waiting for him to show you how badly he wants to fuck you, how badly he needs to see you whimper and moan for him. 

Without another word you bring him to your room, closing the door behind you so Norbert can’t interrupt like he did last time. 

The door is against your back once again and Mingyu towers over you, caging you with his body. His scent fills your senses, your knees going weak as he continues to stare at you with those hooded lids, his attention on you and you only. 

His hand trails against your jaw till he stops at your chin, tilting your face up so that your eyes are leveled with his. He licks his lips as he watches you, wanting nothing but to take you then and there. But he has so much planned, he can’t get too hasty, especially because the thought of you cumming for him over and over continues to plague his mind. 

“I want you to sit on the bed, and to be a good girl and take what I give you,” Mingyu mutters, his hand moving closer to your lips till his thumb pulls your bottom lip down. 

You don’t argue, moving away once again to do what he says. This is the Mingyu you used to know. The one who spent half his life in the mafia, the one who could command a whole room with a single word. 

Following behind you, he waits till you get comfortable on the bed before sitting down between your already spread legs. He captures you into a kiss once more, letting himself savour the taste of you. Your hands move across the expanse of his back, slowly lifting his shirt along the way and feeling his large muscles tense under your gentle fingers. 

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, and your voice is strained, the words leaving your mouth in whimpers. 

Mingyu chuckles at your desperation as he removes the rest of his clothing, but your mind is buzzing like crazy. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone that you forgot how good it feels to be held, to be kissed. 

“Be patient baby, we’ll get to that eventually,” he grunts, lifting your shirt and removing the remainder of your clothes till you're bare. 

Marveling at your naked figure, Mingyu forces himself to stop drooling over how sexy you look in front of him. You’re so small compared to him, his large hands opening up your thighs to reveal your awaiting arousal. 

“You’re already fucking soaking,” he mutters as he prods with your folds. His fingers move gingerly as he teases you. 

His arms push your thighs till they’re flush with your stomach, giving him clear access to where you need him most. Trailing kisses along your inner thighs, your head hits the pillow as you moan out for him. You’re over-sensitive from not being touched by another person in so long, his lips leaving burning sensations on your skin. 

Your pussy is dripping on the sheets the moment he presses a kiss to your clit. Clenching around nothing, you continue to moan out his name, and it makes him smile against you. Hearing you call out for him is like music to his ears, your voice sweet like honey. 

“Keep doing that, please Mingyu,” you whine, your hands coiling around the strands of his hair, nails raking his scalp. 

Groaning against your mound, he continues to play with your clit. Licking and sucking it while his fingers enter your weeping hole. The sounds of his long digits moving in and out of you fill the room, and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you praise him, and it strokes his ego, his movements picking up in pace. 

The squelching noises only increase in volume, his fingers hitting that soft spot inside you that makes your legs shake and your vision goes white. Practically screaming his name, the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum against his mouth. His tongue moved against your slit to drink up your juices, wanting to feel you fill his mouth with your sweet nectar. 

His eyes remain trained on yours while he’s lying between your legs, you run your hands through his hair as you come down from your high. The words can’t seem to leave your lips and your mind is filled with euphoria. If he can do all that with just his mouth and fingers you wonder what will happen when he’s finally inside you. 

“God, you’re so needy. Probably haven’t been fucked properly in so long, huh baby?” he coos as he moves up your body, lips against your ear as he continues to mutter dirty words. 

“Need someone to take care of you? Is that what you need? Need your husband to fuck a baby into you,” he keeps going and your eyes roll back and he fondles your tits. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles, twisting at your hardened nipples as your pussy clenches at the thought of being filled with his cum. 

“You like it when I talk about fucking you till that tight little cunt of yours is stuffed full of my cum?” Mingyu’s mouth continues to spew words of breeding you, and his growing erection is harder to ignore. 

“I want it so bad, want you to fuck a baby in me, Gyu,” you sigh, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls as he flips you around. 

Ass in the air, he gives the supple skin a sharp slap and you shriek. But it feels so good, the sting of his large palm hitting you hard. He can see how much you’re enjoying it, kneading your full mounds as his head fills with thoughts of fucking you in this position. 

“Please just fuck me already, I wanna feel you inside me.” You’re weeping now, face smushed into the pillow. 

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks you, pulling you by your hips till your back is arched. 

The neediness inside you is at its highest point, and you can’t seem to form any words as you feel his fingers glide against your soaked hole. Moans can’t stop leaving your lips and you’re already sensitive from your first orgasm. 

Placing a pillow under your stomach, he continues to manhandle you into the position he wants you in. Face down, ass up, your legs are spread, and your wet entrance is all ready for him.  Mingyu grabs his hard cock, stroking it a few times before spitting on your cunt, and you jolt at the hot liquid hitting your folds. 

“Fuck, you’re tight, I should’ve prepped you more,” Mingyu groans, his length slowly forcing its way past your entrance. 

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel him starting to fill you. The stretch is agonizing but the burn sends tingles of pleasure up your spine. It felt so fucking good having him inside you like this, your mind full of nothing but the shape of his cock. 

“I want it hard, fuck me hard,” you tell him, your voice shaking as he continues to enter you. 

“Okay baby, but just know I won’t be gentle anymore,” he warns you and maybe you shouldn’t have been so eager, but that primal part in you just wanted him so bad. 

Once he has himself fully sheathed in your heat, he pulls back until only the tip is left. You gasp at the sudden empty feeling, but you're quickly silenced when he dives back in. His hips slapping against your ass, his balls hitting your clit. Mingyu’s stamina is insanely high as he continues to thrust in and out of you. 

“Fuck, you’re so big, I-I can’t!” you cry out, your screams picking up in pitch till you're moaning like a porn star. 

“So fucking tight, baby you’re driving me crazy,” Mingyu continues to grunt, his movements not slowing down for even a second. 

His hands move to grip your hips tightly, he stops for a split second to stop his thrusts. You thought you were going to be able to catch your breath. But he just keeps surprising you. The hands that he placed on your hips tighten and he moves you up and down on his cock while he stays still. Using you like his personal sex doll, but fuck, it felt amazing. You love that he’s using you, placing your body in whatever position he wants to chase his own pleasure. 

“You’re so perfect, I could fuck this pussy till I’m empty,” he mutters, watching his dick disappear inside you. 

There's a white ring of arousal around the base of his length, and his mind goes blank. All he can do is continue to bounce you up and down his member till he can feel himself start to twitch inside you. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby you feel so good inside me,” you scream for him, loving the way the ridges of your walls continue to suck him up, your orgasm hitting you once again,

There's something so nasty about him using your body, and you’re enjoying all of it. You love how he’s just taking what he wants, yet he still knows how to make you cum. Your pussy is swollen from the beating it’s taking, but you want more. You want him to keep going till he has nothing left to give you. 

The feeling of Mingyu twitching inside your walls indicates that he’s close, and you continue to clench around him. Wanting to milk him of his seed, wanting to feel his cum hit your cervix and breed you. 

“Gonna cum inside you, okay baby?” he warns you before stilling his movements. 

His cock twitches again till you feel his hot white cum spurt inside your walls, flooding your cunt with his seed. Mingyu groans, watching the liquid fill you and breach past your tight hole till it gushes out. The sight is so unholy, so sinful but he can’t just stop there. No, he won’t stop till you’re stuffed properly. 

“M-mingyu, baby,” you whine, your body flopping onto the mattress as he lets you go. 

Your legs turn to jelly as you shake from how hard you came, your breathing labored. He turns you around so you're splayed out for him, prying your legs open to watch his cum fall out of your pussy in thick globs. It’s so mesmerizing, hypnotizing, he wants to see more of it. To fill you with more of his seed. 

“We’re not done,” he smiles as you cheekily and you laugh. 

“You want more after all of that?” you question him, your breathing still harsh from the previous round. 

“Baby, after all of that, I don’t think I can stop,” he mutters against your lips, and you nod, agreeing with his statement. 

He switches your positions, his back against the headboard while you sit on his lap. The refractory period doesn't seem to exist with Mingyu because his erection is standing proudly in front of you. 

“You wanna go again?” he asks you, one hand on your hip as the other rubs his cock as it glistens with a mixture of both of your arousals. 

“I want you to use me till you can’t anymore,” you lean over, whispering in his ear. 

“Careful, you might regret that later,” he mutters, a hand around your neck as he halts your movements.

Pulling him into a heated kiss, you position his length against your entrance, lifting your body till you can fully sink down on him. Even after the first round, your pussy still can’t get used to the stretch that his cock gives you. It's a delicious feeling, his length is so long and thick you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Ah!” you cry out, your head thrown back as you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders. 

Mingyu moans back, mesmerized by the view of your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face. His cock disappeared inside you once more, the sight making him feral, hungry to see you filled to the brim with his semen. 

Your orgasm comes around faster this time and your walls convulse around him once more. The heat, the wetness, the silky feeling of your cunt makes Mingyu go delirious, thoughts only filled with you and you only. Stilling your hips, his own high follows yours shortly after, his cum hitting your insides till it covers his softening member all over again. 

You let out a puff of breath, leaning into his chest as your face rested in the crook of his neck. Mingyu rubs your back soothingly, his dick going soft and falling out of your entrance. Whimpering at the loss of him being inside you, you hold him tighter. The feelings of exhaustion are finally catching up to you, but you know you’ll have to clean up soon enough. 

“You know I love you, right?” he reminds you as he lifts you up and off the bed to head to the shower. You can only nod, your mind and body too tired to respond. 

Setting you on the counter, his back turns away from you while he prepares your bath, getting the water warm for you. You notice the large dragon tattoo that coils along his skin. It surprises you that you haven’t noticed it before, but the black ink on him is undeniably sexy. 

Once the water is warm enough, he carries you to the shower before cleaning you up properly. You love that he’s back to his soft and kind self, and it makes you fall for him even harder. The hard sex was so good but what’s important to you is the fact that he’s so keen on taking care of you after. 

Mingyu’s hand snakes around your waist as your head lays against his shoulder, pressing lazy kisses while you whisper words of gratitude. 

“Thank you, I love you too,” you mumble, adorning him with pecks along his warm tan skin. 

epilogue. 

“This whole fucking time,” Seungkwan stares at you with wide eyes, “I fucking KNEW it.” 

You scoff at him, he just had to be right about everything and it annoys you, but here you are again, in his home for drinks and dessert. 

“Sure you did, Kwannie,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. 

“I swear I did! Right, babe? They were suspicious from the start,” he continues to argue, roping in Vernon who gives him a shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to his phone. 

It was time for you and Mingyu to break the news about your fake relationship with everyone. You felt bad for deceiving people, and now that you two were actually in love, it just felt right to put the fake marriage thing in the past. 

“Please, we weren’t that obvious,” you defend, not wanting to give Seungkwan the bragging rights to actually be right this whole time. 

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes at you before taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anymore, he’s just happy that his suspicions have been correct this whole time. 

“Does this mean you’re going to leave soon?” He looks at you with desperate eyes, taking your hands in his. 

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and Mingyu and I have decided to stay,” you smile at him from where he sits across the room, talking about something unimportant with Jeonghan and Val. “So don’t worry, I’ll still be your neighbour. Bridgewater actually seems like the perfect place for us right now.” 

“Oh thank god! I don’t think I could live happily ever again if you moved away, Y/nie.” He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. 

Seungkwan may have started as a pestering neighbour, but you can’t help but feel grateful towards him. If it weren’t for his annoying attitude, you and Mingyu probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to pretend to be in love. You could say that Seungkwan was one the biggest reasons why you and Mingyu fell so hard for each other in the first place. 

…

A few days after solidifying your relationship with Mingyu, you two decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here after all. Seungcheol was sentenced guilty during trial and Jihoon informed you that there's no more reason for you to be put into witness protection. Everything just seemed like it was all falling into place, and you’re happier than you have been in so long. 

Even Norbert has finally warmed up to Mingyu. Sometimes when your work day is over, you’ll spot them cuddling on the couch and watching Bluey together. He always talks to Norbert, asking him questions even though the cat can’t answer. It warms your heart knowing that the two beings that healed you from a world’s worth of hurt can get along. They both came into your life when you needed it most, and every day you're thankful that you’re surrounded by so much love. 

“Watching Bluey without me?” you ask out loud, your arms crossed as you pretend to be mad. 

“Baby! You’re done!” Mingyu practically flies off the couch to capture you in a bone-crushing hug. 

“You know you can come into my office when I’m working,” you laugh as you rub his back, savouring the feeling of his large and muscular arms holding you. 

“I know but I don’t want to distract you, even Norbert doesn't go in,” he mumbles, inhaling your scent as if he didn’t wake up beside you that very morning. 

“You’re silly, Mingyu,” you laugh, kissing his cheek. 

He blushes like a schoolgirl before giving you the biggest grin known to man. His eyes sparkling against the living room lighting, you can tell he’s head over heels for you. Mingyu isn’t afraid to show affection or to be vulnerable, he just wants to be with you, no matter how good or bad things get. 

“Can’t I just be happy my wife is off work?” He sighs lovingly, brushing your hair through his fingers, refusing to let you go. 

You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is, but he knows that you secretly love it. Especially since you act the same way with him whenever he goes out to run errands or when he tends to the garden. 

“Your wife is hungry and tired, can we make more kimchi pancakes please?” you ask with puppy dog eyes. 

Mingyu laughs at you before kissing your forehead, “Anything for the love of my life.” 

Blushing at his words, you follow him into the kitchen to make the kimchi pancakes you had asked for. Putting on his pink ruffle apron, he gets down to business, always wanting to cook the best food for you. 

Mingyu is satisfied knowing that he’s able to give you the life that you deserve. To love you on sunny days and even on rainy days. He’s never felt a love that was this secure, and he’s grateful that you feel the same way. 

As you watch Mingyu cook, you think back to the first day you moved to Bridgewater. You misjudged him that first day and you’re so glad that he proved you wrong. He has been nothing but amazing since then. He’s patient, and kind, and he loves you even when you’re irritated or in a bad mood. For someone who used to be a part of the mafia, you would expect him to be rough around the edges, and intimidating, but he’s the complete opposite. He’s the perfect house husband. 

end. 

𖥔 a/n: you've reached the end of my hubbygyu fic! thank you for reading and please leave an ask or comment if you've enjoyed this story :)! but wait... there's more! this story will become a series that takes inspiration from the anime ( the way of the house husband) so please look forward to seeing more of wifey y/n and hubby gyu! thank you again ♡.

[writingouthere]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

[1mlei]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 3]

In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.

First part | Previous part | Next part | Masterpost

One thing that Jason hated about being the adopted son of Bruce Wayne was when he had to accompany the man to galas and other public events.

Bruce was very understanding, he would let Jason stay back home for most of the events he attended, but as Bruce's son Jason could only skip out on so many events before people started asking questions.

Granted, there was no reason why Jason was skipping out other than that he simply did not want to go, but the fewer people asking questions the better.

And so, Jason begrudgingly dressed up in a disgustingly expensive suit, put on a fake smile and pretended to be someone he was not to the faces of the same people who would turn their noses up at him as soon as they thought he, and more importantly Bruce, couldn't see.

It was exhausting to be honest, but Jason understood why it was necessary. These people were like bloodhounds when it came to sniffing out drama and gossip. If they got even the slightest hint that there was something weird going on in Wayne Manor they would not rest until they found something.

Of course their secret night-time activities were better hidden than that, but it was better not to give the socialites a reason to suspect anything in the first place.

Still, after nearly an hour of just wandering around exchanging fake smiles and empty small talk Jason was getting bored.

He headed over towards the refreshments, hoping to bring his energy back up even just a little bit.

As he made his way over, Jason took note of a girl who looked to be around his age, wearing a black and purple dress. She seemed to be inspecting some of the available appetizers with an odd intensity.

Jason silently walked up next to her, sure to keep a polite amount of space between them as he picked up one of the fancy foods that looked good enough for him.

He turned to look at the girl who still appeared to be judging the table, from this angle he could see she was wearing quite dark makeup, and more eyeliner than half the women in the room put together. He thought it suited her well.

She must have sensed his eyes on her, because she stopped her judging of the food and turned to meet his gaze instead, one eyebrow quirked in a silent question.

Jason tried for a casual, friendly tone as he spoke,

"Is something wrong with the food? Or did that one sandwich just happen to offend you?"

The girl gave him a weird look, but shook her head,

"No, just hoped there would be more options, there's meat on almost everything."

Jason looked back at the table, and she was right. The vegetarian options were quite limited.

Before he could think of something to say the girl sighed and turned to face away from the table,

"Whatever, it's not like I was that hungry anyway, just wanted something to do before I die of boredom."

As Jason quickly finished his own appetizer he smirked at her,

"Now that is something I can relate to. If I have to pretend to care about the weather one more time tonight I swear my brain will melt."

The girl let out a short huff of laughter than sounded like it agreed with him, which Jason took as a victory. Look at him go, actually having a somewhat friendly conversation at one of these events. Who would have thought?

The girl seemed to have the same thoughts, as she reached out a hand towards him,

"It's nice to know someone here has some sense. I'm Sam Manson."

Jason shook her hand with a smile,

"Jason Wayne"

Sam had a mischievous smile on her face as she answered,

"Oh I know, even if I didn't recognize you I could have guessed by the looks my parents are sending me."

Jason looked to the side discreetly until his eyes landed on a middle aged couple that were sending twin icy glares their way. He recognized a few people in their circle as some of the more influential guests in attendance tonight, and was sure that had that not been the case they would be rushing over to fetch their daughter.

He turned back as Sam continued,

"They definitely think I'm bothering you, talking about boring things like environmentalism or animal cruelty. Suppose I should go bat my eyelashes at some other rich guy that can talk about important things like his own money for a full hour."

She sent him a pained grimace as she started backing away, and Jason laughed sympathetically,

"Best of luck with that, it was nice meeting you Sam."

She nodded at him with a smile,

"You too Jason."

Then she walked away, soon getting absorbed into a circle of people to join a conversation Jason was sure was absolutely riveting.

He let out a short sigh, steeling himself before he walked off in another direction, doing the same thing.

When Sam said that she was dying of boredom, she was being polite.

She was regretting agreeing to come to this stupid gala by now.

When her parents had first asked Sam to attend with them she hadn't even heard them out before she turned them down, which they knew to expect.

That was definitely why they had immediately dropped the bomb that the gala was happening in Gotham of all places.

They knew exactly how badly Sam wanted to visit the city, the Gothic architecture speaking to her soul. While her parents didn't necessarily approve of her love for the dark and gloomy, they sure knew how to use it to their advantage.

With the added promise that she'd have plenty of free time after the gala to properly experience the city, she was sold.

Sam had even compromised with her mother when it came to her dress. Her mother wanted her in a pink and poofy abomination of a dress, while Sam insisted on her usual black.

They had met somewhere in the middle for once, the dress having none of the pink, but a lot of the poof. Since she'd had to choose between sacrificing color or shape, Sam would have to live with the inconvenient skirt, it was far better than the slimmer pastel pink dress her mother had tried to get her into. And the dress even had purple accents, that was close enough to pink.

After Sam reminded her parents that darker colours would probably suit the theme better than pink, they had agreed. She had even been able to sneakily put on some makeup in her usual style.

Considering both the setting and her attire, this was overall one of the more bearable galas Sam had attended.

But after having enough bland small talk to last her a lifetime in the span of one night she was ready to gouge her own eyes out.

She'd had the one short encounter with one Jason Wayne, who was very down to earth for being the son of the richest man there. Though, she supposed given his background that was to be expected.

She wasn't complaining, even just one conversation that didn't melt her brain was an accomplishment in her book. Unfortunately, she knew by the looks her parents sent her that the longer she kept 'bothering' a Wayne the more she'd have to pay for it later.

So she had grumpily walked away, engaging in a few more basic conversations as she went. She knew that most people in attendance didn't pay her much mind. The rebellious daughter of one of the less stinking rich families there, she didn't exactly have a lot of pull.

Good, she would prefer they not acknowledge her at all to be honest.

Eventually though, Sam gave in and snuck her phone out to text her friends for a distraction. Tucker was unhelpful like expected, happy to laugh at her suffering. She sent a vaguely threatening text his way, which had the desired effect of shutting him up.

Luckily, Sam had at least one friend that could sympathise with her. Maybe it was due to Danny's new responsibilities as prince, he was suddenly much more understanding about having to put up with high society.

Danny: you want me to swoop in and save you yet? :P

Sam: at this point i'd take a rogue attacking us over staying here any longer.

Tucker: you know saying that shit in gotham is just asking for trouble

Sam: I swear I'm gonna do it, fucking watch me.

Tucker: aight lemme just hack into the cameras real quick

Danny: can we try not to provoke Fate more than necessary? that's gonna become my problem soon :(

Sam: Yes we know, it's very sad. You know what else is sad? The things I'm about to do to the next old geezer that tells me to smile :)

Danny: alright let's not resort to murder maybe. omw.

Sam: Murder would be the kind option, I'm not feeling kind.

But also not a great idea, if my parents see me leave I'm dead.

Danny: easy solution, they won't see you leave

meet me outside in 20

there is a balcony, right? or else this is awkward

After assuring her friend that there was indeed a balcony, Sam slowly made her way outside. She only got caught up in a few short conversations on her way, and before too long she was stepping out into the chilly fall air.

She leaned against the railing, looking out over the Gotham skyline. The heavy pollution of the city made truly fresh air hard to come by, but at least it was pleasantly brisk outside. It certainly helped Sam wake her mind up after too much time spent in brain-dead conversation.

She shifted her gaze down to the cityscape spread out below her, well aware that she wouldn't see Danny coming. He would probably be flying invisibly before he even crossed the state border just to be safe. The last thing he wanted was Batman's attention.

Danny had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that he would inevitably meet some members of the Justice League at some point, especially once he became king, but for now he was doing everything he could to stay off their radar.

At this point nobody in Amity wanted the JLA involved anymore, most people understood that the heroes were not properly equipped for the town at all, and considering the fact that the most likely outcome of the JLA showing up now was Phantom having to deal with a possessed Superman, the people of Amity Park were happy to keep the other heroes out of it.

The attacks had significantly died down over the past year anyway, as Danny came more to terms with his ghostly side. When the accident first happened he had been trying desperately to cling onto his humanity and deny most of his ghostliness, which had led to him not fully understanding the other ghosts.

Once Danny accepted that he wasn't fully human anymore, and that he was still the same person despite that fact, he had started learning more about his other half.

Turns out, in a dimension where all the residents are unkillable (since they're already dead) duking it out in a friendly brawl is considered normal. Once Danny learned about this, he'd started visiting the Realms more often.

He visited regularly to fight it out with his old rogues, to pay his less violent allies a visit, and in general just learn more about the culture.

It was during one such friendly visit that Danny had learned about the rules of conquest in the Infinite Realms. Upon defeating Pariah Dark he had immediately earned the title of Crown Prince, and was to be crowned King once he was of age.

Hadn't that been an unpleasant surprise? Danny rarely went more than a day without complaining about his future position.

As Sam was lost in thought, the cold bite in the air reminded her, it was already fall. The council had agreed to let Danny wait until the summer after he turned sixteen to be crowned.

His birthday had been a few weeks back, which meant there was less than a year left.

Sam was simultaneously sympathetic for her friend, since he clearly didn't want the title and the infinite power that came with it, but also incredibly proud of him.

Had it been anyone else receiving such a position she would have worried about what all that power would do to that person.

She did not have that worry when it came to Danny, that was what made him so incredible in her eyes. Only Danny could be handed the key to infinite power on a silver platter, and want to pass it on to someone else.

She realized her thoughts had started wandering like they usually did when she thought about her friend for too long, but she couldn't help it.

Two years ago Sam had been in love with Danny, and though they'd come to the joint decision that it was better far for them to stay friends, that didn't mean Sam's admiration for her friend would go away.

She had simply learned to love him as her best friend instead. Not that it had been easy, but Danny had been understanding. Had it not been for the fact that they both had their own soulmates somewhere out there waiting for them they might have tried harder at making a relationship work, but it simply wasn't meant to be.

After emotions had settled a bit they had grown all the closer for it, a new sort of understanding between them.

Finally, after Sam had been standing there reminiscing for nearly ten minutes, she felt a familiar comforting chill in the air next to her, and just a second later Danny faded into view leaning casually against the railing next to her with a shit-eating grin on his face,

"Sorry to keep you waiting, traffic was awful on the way here."

Sam pointedly rolled her eyes at Danny's usual dry humor, but let go of the railing to face him instead,

"Let's leave quickly, my parents have definitely noticed I'm missing and I'd rather not be here if they come looking."

Danny let out out a quick "Yes ma'am", wrapping one arm around her waist, fumbling for a second trying to find her legs through the stupid poofy skirt. Sam sighed is exasperation and pulled at her dress to get it out of the way,

"Unfortunately it was this or bright pink, so we'll have to live with the extra skirts."

This time, Danny easily scooped her up bridal style, the skirt bunched up in Sam's lap. Had this been two years ago there would have been a fluttering feeling in her chest, but that was then, and Sam had long since gotten over those feelings. Instead, she just sighed when he quirked an eyebrow at her,

"Live?"

Sam smacked him in the shoulder,

"You know what I meant, now get going ghost boy."

Danny, used to Sam's dismissal of his jokes by now, did as she said and lifted off the ground slowly, letting his invisibility wash over the both of them, and then he was off into the night sky.

They'd have to return to Sam's hotel room before her parents, but that wouldn't happen for at least a few more hours.

Until then, an aerial tour of Gotham didn't sound too bad.

Jason had quickly grown bored of the dull conversations again.

He carefully excused himself from the older woman who was talking his ear off, and tried to act like he had a destination in mind as he walked away.

He ended up taking refuge in a corner that was conveniently covered, he doubted anyone would notice him staying back there for a few minutes as he took a breather.

However, after only a moment of taking cover, he spotted a familiar figure across the room. The one person he'd had a bearable conversation with during the night was walking out onto the balcony.

He considered it for a minute. He didn't want to intrude if Sam was trying to get some time to herself like him, but he also thought she had seemed to appreciate a normal human to talk to just as much as him. Surely she wouldn't mind his company too much?

Mind made up, Jason decided that he could use some fresh air himself and started slowly making his way over.

He took his time walking over, stopping to suffer through one more conversation on the way as he allowed some time to pass. He didn't want to rush after Sam the moment she walked away on her own and risk coming across wrong, he just wanted some air and decent conversation, damn it.

Maybe he could ask her about the environment to break the ice, it had been the first example she gave of a topic she supposedly liked to talk about, so she must have some interest in it. Jason wasn't overly excited by the topic, but it was sure to be more interesting than anything else being talked about in the room.

Maybe he could test the waters and see if Sam was interested in books at all, that might actually wake him up. She seemed like a person who would enjoy a good book. Maybe they could exchange recommendations.

Spurred on by the lure of talking to someone who both didn't care who his dad was and had more to talk about than business, Jason once again made his way towards the balcony after a few more minutes.

As Jason walked out into the pleasantly chilly air, he stopped short as soon as he laid eyes on Sam.

She wasn't alone.

That wouldn't be a problem on it's own obviously, they'd had one short conversation, Jason really didn't care who she talked to.

No, the problem was exactly who she was with.

Jason couldn't see the stranger's face, as both of them had their backs turned his way. All Jason could make out from behind were a pair of fully black cargo pants and a black hoodie with some white highlights. They matched the shock of white hair on their head, it was so bright it may have been glowing. Actually, the stranger's whole body appeared to be giving off a faint glow.

Jason was confused, he was pretty damn sure this stranger had not been at the gala. So how the hell had they gotten to the balcony?

Jason stuck to the shadows as he snuck closer, trying to get a better look.

He was stopped short after just a few more steps.

There was no way.

Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, Jason shakily pulled at the sleeve of his suit jacket.

The heart was beating again.

Jason's brain fumbled with the different pieces of the puzzle.

His soulmate was nearby, and the only people close enough were Sam and the newcomer. He'd had a whole conversation with Sam earlier, and his tattoo had firmly remained still. He remembers shaking her hand, and his tattoo stayed mockingly black.

But now it was beating, and there was only one other person present.

A person who had an oddly inhuman look about them.

Jason thought back to the last time he'd felt his tattoo move. He had been sure that he'd been saved by the ghost of his soulmate.

His soulmate had been dead for two years, yet they were standing in front of him. But they did not look like a.. regular person. Or a living person, rather.

Was his soulmate really a ghost? If so, how were they here?

And why were they here talking to someone other than Jason?

When his soulmate had saved him from.. something.. Jason had been sure that they came to him specifically to protect him. He'd taken comfort, in the fact that his other half had done something so impossible, had crossed the line between life and death just to save him. To give Jason something they didn't get, a life to live.

As Jason fumbles, not knowing what to do but knowing he should do something, anything, the pair in front of him move. The stranger smoothly picked Sam up bridal style after a short struggle with her skirt. Jason has barely a second to hurriedly walk towards them before gravity seems to disregard the pair, and they float upward slowly before fading from sight completely.

Jason's breath catches in his throat, and he knows they're gone because the pleasant chill that had enveloped him the moment he walked onto the balcony goes with them, and all that remains is the biting cold of the fall weather.

So, floating away and turning invisible, they sure seem like the traits of a ghost. But really, what did he expect? Jason's soulmate was dead, there was no other explanation.

No, what bothered him, was that Jason had spent one year thinking he would never get to meet his soulmate, then another thinking he'd have to wait for the afterlife to meet them. That had been some comfort, he'd live the life his soulmate wanted him to, then they'd be united when it was time.

But his soulmate had been there. Fully visible, corporeal, and they had been there to meet someone else. Did Jason not matter to them, the way they did to Jason?

Jason had felt the heart on his wrist beat before they had flown off, so surely his soulmate's heart did the same. And yet, they had simply left without sparing Jason even a glance.

Jason slowly walked over to where his soulmate had been standing mere moments ago, using the railing to steady himself as he looked out over Gotham. His soulmate was out there somewhere, in the same city, and yet Jason had no way to reach them.

Feeling more alone than he's felt in many years, Jason just stands there. He sheds no physical tears, but the cityscape grows blurry in front of him as his eyes grow misty. He doesn't let a single sound escape his lips, ignoring the cries lodged in his throat.

But inside, the cries of his heart resounds through his entire being as he grieves the loss of his soulmate once again.

First part | Previous part | Next part | Masterpost

Tags: @craftyexpertchild @666deaddash999 @lazerswordweilder @bellathecatastrophe @wanderwithwings @vexishereandveryqueer @moonsbluekingdom @princessoftheturtles @phoenixdemonqueen

Thank you for reading <3

[femdomlieeh]

Crown (m)

Sub!Heeseung (ENHYPEN) x Dom!F!Reader

WC—5.8 ✧ k

WARNING—bathtub sex ✧ role-play (lovers/ gf & bf) ✧ blindfolding (m) ✧ stripping (m) ✧ unprotected sex (be safe yall!) ✧ piv ✧ light S&M ✧ dacryphilia (m) ✧ body worship (m) ✧ nipple play (m!r) ✧ light spanking (m!r) ✧ breath play (m!r) ✧ lingerie (f) ✧ teasing (m!r) ✧ thigh kink ✧ tattoo kink (?) ✧ brief begging ✧ biting (m!r) ✧ praise (f!g) ✧ marking (f!g) ✧ pet names (mami, prince, baby)

THEMES—smut ✧ best friend au ✧ fwb for one night agreement ✧ a little angsty

NOW PLAYING—imagine ✧ Ariana Grande

A/N. This is actually my favourite smut I’ve posted so far so I hope you enjoy!

Old Seungwoo version

M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

All rights reserved © femdomlieeh

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Valentine’s Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

Couples could finally do PDA and have people cooing at them in either cuteness or jealousy, but never disgust because PDA was allowed on Valentine's Day.

People could finally have an excuse to do something special for someone, like making a grand romantic gesture or even proposing.

It was supposed to be that way, right?

I was going to have a corny day together with my boyfriend of three years, Yeonjun. Every single detail all the way from the restaurant to the hotel room had been thought out by me, because – not only am I romantic – I always like to be prepared.

Not to sound cocky or to flatter myself, but the plan was so good even I was impressed with it.

Except not everything went to plan.

My lover decided to break up with me one month before the awaited day. One month before Valentine's Day! Only two weeks into the new year! He had "grown out of love" as he'd said. Guess one of his New Year's resolutions was to break up with me.

My parents had met him and accepted him — which said a lot, since they've always had high standards and never liked any of my previous lovers — so it was safe to say that I felt lost.

For two weeks I'd avoided contact with my family, so I wouldn't have to tell them the news yet because I was embarrassed, I was single right in time for the day of love. The only person who knew, other than me and Yeonjun, was my best friend Heeseung.

Since the moment I told him, he made it his daily routine to come to my place with open arms and a warm embrace. I never cried in front of anyone but him. It isn't weak to shed tears, in fact shedding tears takes a lot of strength, I simply don't feel comfortable showing myself vulnerable to others, and especially not after being hurt by someone I trusted.

With Heeseung, it was different, however. We've known each other for so many years and we know most of each other's secrets already. I know that when I cry in front of him it's without being judged and he knows the same goes for him.

One day when he, like normally, went to my place, his smile was abnormal. It was fake. I knew it was fake. After all these years of knowing him, I could distinguish his fake smiles from his true ones faster than Eminem can rap.

Being the caring best friend I am, I asked him what had happened. At that, he broke down and let go of the fooling smile; he can never lie to me for more than a few seconds. His girlfriend, Karina, had broken up with him. Honestly speaking, it was understandable why she wanted to break up with him: 1. He spent too much time with me, 2. He never told her about his thoughts or what bothered him, 3. He didn't treat her like the queen everyone knows she is

Heeseung was mature and didn't beg her for a second chance because he knew she deserved someone better; someone who not only knew she deserved to be treated like a queen but treated her like it. But no matter how mature he was, it didn't make the pain smaller on his part. He was disappointed in himself for ever being in a relationship where he didn't treat his lover right.

And so it was my turn to comfort him. For a couple of days, I had opened arms and a warm embrace for him to find comfort in until he had calmed down.

Impulsively, we went to a tattoo shop and got him a tattoo. It wasn't the I'm-heartbroken-and-need-a-tattoo-to-look-good tattoo, it was the I-need-some-inspiration-in-this-dark-place tattoo. After brainstorming for a long ten minutes, he got the best idea. Don't lock me up, in italics right under his collarbone, above his heart to remind himself to not lock up his feelings.

He had been in great pain for the quarter of time it took to do the tattoo, but he didn't seem to mind... Judging by the way he was biting his lower lip, he was holding in a pained whine, seemingly trying to impress me by handling the pain. When the torture finally had come to an end, the final product made him smile truly – although that part of his body had to be covered with plastic and some tape whenever he so much as wanted to shower.

A week away from Valentine's Day, Heeseung and I made a pact; the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other. During the holiday we'd do all the cheesy things we had planned to do to our now-ex-lovers – but the most crucial parts was that A) the other person wouldn't judge and B) next day all of it would be forgotten. Wow. We had grown so dependent on each other's care that we made the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other...

It was probably stupid to do such a thing with a best friend of so many years, but it was also the 'healthiest' thing to do for us two. Although I, at this point, had convinced Heeseung that I was over Yeonjun, I still hadn't convinced myself. And the same went for Heeseung; he had convinced me that he was over Karina, but not himself.

My plan for Valentine's Day was sublime and if I didn't go through with it, I would regret it — and, damn, I couldn't wait a whole year for the next opportunity (if I even would get the opportunity)!

And that explains this. Us standing. A week later. On a romantic rooftop. Dressed nicely. Smiling awkwardly at each other. On Valentine's Day.

"Since you're my boyfriend tonight, let's go down to the room I rented, shall we?"

"This feels weird," he giggled lightly.

"Play along!" I held out my hand for him to hold and flashed him a smile. He reciprocated my smile and took my hand, following my lead down the stairs to our hotel room; the room I had booked for me and Yeonjun.

Our hands were sweating. It wasn't the first time Heeseung and I held hands, but it was the first time we ever did something like this together; something normal best friends don't do. The affection we've displayed to each other throughout the years had been mostly words and hugs and sometimes cuddles. But now...we were going to show affection in ways we've only done to lovers.

I held out the black card key in front of the sensor above the golden knob but retracted it before the door unlocked.

"If you want to turn back, now is the time to do so. I don't want to go through with this if you don't want to," I said and looked at him.

His eyes told me that it was OK, but I needed his consent to be sure he was OK.

"I want to do this, don't worry," he smiled a little as his heart pounded.

Without breaking eye contact, I put the card in front of the sensor again and waited a few microseconds for it to unlock. I turned the knob and opened the door to the pact.

"After you," I gestured him to enter the room.

"Why thank you," he blushed and hurried inside so I wouldn't catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

But I did.

And I smiled when I saw it.

The room was big and open. Simple, but just perfect. Knowing me and my cheesy nature, Heeseung had expected perhaps some rose petals on the bed or a few scented candles by the bed but, to his surprise, he saw none of that.

I pushed him down onto the soft bed with silk sheets, distracting him for the real surprise, and sat beside him.

"Before we do anything, we need safe words."

"Safe words?" he inquired and raised a brow unknowingly.

"A word to say in case anyone goes overboard or passes the limits," I explained shortly.

"Alright, mine is apple."

"Why apple though?" I giggled at his randomness.

"I ate an apple today." (It was true, he'd had a green apple because he once read that green apples make your breath smell better.)

"If you're going for a fruit I am too. My safe word is peach."

"Why peach?" he raised his brow at me stealing his fruit idea.

"Your peach looks really good in those pants, so it was the first thing I thought of," I replied and laughed at his flustered self.

He knew he had a plump peach.

It was just embarrassing hearing it from me since I, as his best friend, am supposed to not acknowledge how incredibly handsome he is – and especially when it comes to body parts such as peaches!

I put my hand on his thigh to get his attention away from the embarrassment.

"Tonight, I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince," I said with a newfound tone that sent shivers down Heeseung's spine.

I neared him and whispered in his ear, "Tonight, I'm your Mami."

He gulped. I had always been a very dominant person in everything I did, so he expected nothing less than that in bed — but the foreign titles took him by surprise. But it made sense for me to use titles in bed, because I was classy like that.

"What's your safe word?" I asked to make sure he knows he can use it whenever he wants to. After all I didn't know what was out of his comfort-zone.

"Apple."

"If you feel uncomfortable you know you need to say that word, understood?"

"Yes, Mami," he answered, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

With his green light I continued, "Good boy."

At the praise, his cheeks matched the floating rose petals. I loved how responsive he was already. Before tonight I wasn't sure what kind of partner he would be but finding out what he likes step by step excites me – more than I thought finding out my best friend's kinks would excite me. I want to know everything. What turns him on, what makes him scream, what makes him cry; everything.

"My best friend's into praise, hm. Who would have thought?" I teased and squeezed his thigh lightly.

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Mami. I'm Prince, right?"

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen in them before. Was it lust? Was it something else? How could I be sure of what it was if I hadn't seen him like this before?

"Indeed, you are, Prince," I smiled, slowly feeling my hand up his thick, muscular thigh.

He followed my hand's path with his gaze and bit his lip like back in the tattoo shop. Was he holding in a moan, perhaps? When my hand was at the top, soon on his V-line, I heard how his breathing grew louder and more unsteady.

He seemed to enjoy his thighs being touched.

I noticed how his pants were forming a tent in the prince area, and smirked. To tease him, I let go of his thigh and walked up to the door to the bathroom. He tensed. Maybe he wanted me to touch him some more?

"After you, Prince," I said and opened the door for him.

Once again that stereotype-breaking gesture had him blushing ferociously.

He went into the new room, not expecting much other than grabbing a condom. But when the sight he was met by was nowhere near what he expected, yet it didn't shock him one bit. A large bathtub filled with atypical pink water and typical red rose petals floating on the surface.

He chuckled, "As expected, my best friend is a cheesy person."

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince. I'm your Mami, right?" I asked with a confident smirk.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered and turned away from me so he could avoid my powerful gaze.

"Yes what?" I pushed a little to see how comfortable he was with the title.

"Yes, I'm Mami's Prince," he said under his breath.

I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the expensive fabric under my fingertips. "Want to take this off for me?"

"Y-Yes, Mami."

I smiled, "Then give me a little show." He gulped as I sat down on the edge of the tub to get a full view of him. With adrenaline coursing through his body, he let the blazer fall off his shoulders and land on the floor, followed by the ivory dress shirt. As soon as his skin was touched by the air, goosebumps formed, and he flexed his abs. He sure had worked hard to get flex his muscles like this.

Biting my lip, I pointed at his ivy pants, "Take those off too." The way I bit my lip made him feel confident. I didn't bite my lip to prevent honest sounds from falling out like Heeseung did, I bit my lip to prevent myself from ripping the rest of his clothes off. He undid the belt and let the pants pool down around his ankles. Now, in front of me, was he standing in nothing but a pair of black boxers that were fitting all too tight due to those thick thighs and the clearly big erection. He was gulping under my gaze, waiting for me to instruct him on what to do.

"Show me your prince part, Prince." Blushing at the euphemism, he put his fingers under the waistband and pulled his boxers down. He was fit and attractive. Each muscle on his body was visibly hard, including his dick that was high and proud in the air. "You're so handsome, Prince," I praised and watched a small smile break out on his face.

He walked to me with his head down and stood with his tall figure in front of my sitting posture. "Do you want me to touch you, Prince?"

"Yes, please." At that, I put a finger in the middle of his chest and traced it down his abs and to the tip of his dick. He bit his lip again to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping; he wanted to impress me by being good. But I didn't want to give him too much pleasure yet.

"Let's get wet now, shall we? I didn't fill this tub for aesthetics..." He laughed lightly, feeling more at ease at the small joke I made. Listening, he slowly set foot into the tub and tried not to spill so much as a drop of the water. It took him a good half minute to fully settle down since he's so tall and big due to his muscles — but that was good, because it gave me plenty of time to prepare additional surprises for him.

When he averted his attention from the pink water and back to me, he was met by an astonishing, breathtaking, life-changing sight. Me. In lingerie. With a red silk blindfold in hand. This specific lace lingerie was Yeonjun's favorite, so I naturally chose to wear it now – in red to match the theme of the holiday. I felt the most comfortable in it. In this color. In this fabric. Everything made me feel sexy. But the memories of what me and him had done while I was in it brought back a gloominess.

Heeseung didn't know how to react. Did I pick the color red because it was the traditional color of Valentine's Day or because I knew it was his favorite color? For some odd and unknown reason, he hoped for the latter one.

"You look so handsome like this, Prince, but I think you'd look even better in this," I winked and held up the red blindfold. He shuddered. The little piece of fabric was something different. Never had he ever used one in the bedroom — only in fun games with friends, where you had to trust your teammates. Now, however, he was going to put his trust in me.

"What's your safe word?"

"Apple," he answered, "I trust you. You don't need to ask me about it all the time, I'll tell if you need to stop."

"But we've never done this before so I'm scared of it going wrong," I admitted.

"I trust you. Trust me too, Mami."

"As you wish, Prince," I replied.

Once again, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I lowered the love blindfold to his face, holding it right above. He was looking at me with those big, curious eyes, filled with anticipation for what was going to happen. How long I was staying still was quickening his heartbeat; he knew I wanted him to be verbal.

"Please," he said, feeling slightly impatient; his heart would jump out his chest any second now. Smiling, I finally put the blindfold on him and tightened it behind his head, making sure it wasn't too tight since I didn't want to ruin his beautiful hair or innocence too much. Oh wait, scratch the last one. I petted his hair, which was equally smooth as the silk around his head. "Does it hurt, Prince?" I asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No, Mami." The silk was smooth against his skin and, although all he could see was darkness, it was magical; all the other senses were heightened. He could hear me breathing and even imagine what I was thinking whilst I was touching him this gently. Maybe I was thinking of how much I loved him as a best friend. Maybe I was thinking of how I'd ruin him. Maybe I was thinking of what to do next.

Slowly I proceeded to his neck. He could feel my presence, through my breaths on his skin, and thus elongated his neck for me — he couldn't see me, but he could sense what I wanted. I began placing small kisses up his neck to his well-defined jaw, while he tried to keep his breathing in control. The kisses were small, yet they made such a big impact on him since his sense of touch was thousands of times greater than normal.

"M-Mami?"

"Yes, Prince," I said between kisses.

"Can I...touch you?"

"Not yet," I smirked and moved further down to his collarbone. I left open-mouthed kisses all over it and stopped to admire his tattoo. Technically I had been the one who had encouraged him to get it. It was so small, but it held so much meaning behind it. My fingers were tracing along the tattoo, soothing Heeseung. He felt calm. He felt at peace. He felt connected to me. When my fingers traced lower and experimentally touched his nipple, he let out a whimper. Bingo.

"Sensitive much?"

He didn't answer, embarrassed.

"I asked you something, Prince," I said with a less kind voice.

"Yes, Mami. I-I'm sensitive, but you already knew that."

It was true. Since the start of our friendship he had showed his vulnerability and sensitivity. He never liked it when I jokingly roasted him, only being into compliments and praises. Praising. I bet he'd be into that.

He whimpered out a 'Mami' when I attached my lips to his nipple. Trying to not shock his body too much, I only gave a quick kitten lick, yet it seemed to affect him a lot when he couldn't hold back a sole whimper. I couldn't tell if it were because of the sensitivity provided by the blindfold or because he had sensitive nipples. Either way, I wanted to test how much I could make him feel.

To give him a little sensation without touching him, I breathed on the wet nipple so he shivered a little at the coldness. He put both of his hands on each edge of the tub to stabilize himself, feeling like he could lose the bare control he had now that I found a weak spot of his. I flattened my tongue and licked against him, making him quiver.

"M-M-Mami," he stuttered breathily. He wasn't trying to call me, nor was he trying to tell me anything — my actions simply lit a part of him that seemed to love my title. He knew exactly how to turn me on and this was the first time we had ever been intimate. It was actually cute how my best friend was so accustomed to both mine and his title. Yeonjun's title, I meant.

I reached my hand under the surface of the water and felt up his thigh. He moaned. Yes. Moaned. At a simple touch. Ashamed of the moan, he let go of one of the edges and brought his hand over his mouth, making him lose a part of his balance. "Don't keep your sounds to yourself, Prince. Give them to me," I ordered.

Smirking against his skin, I started sucking which caused a gasp to erupt at the sudden stimulation. "M-Mami, Mami—" he whimpered loudly. He had tried to keep his noises to himself until now, but although it hurt his pride a little, he liked pleasing me.

How could whimpers sound so beautiful? They were so angelic and graceful, contrary to the scene of sinning. I retracted from him to admire the view. One nipple was red and swollen and the other one was left untouched. Each muscular arm was resting on each edge, trying not to move a millimeter. The blindfold was covering part of his face yet matched with his feverish blush. His mouth was agape, letting the whimpers I loved oh so much out every now and then. I was happy I hadn't gone for the cliché bubble bath, because now that the water was clear I could see his naked body — every part from his beauteously tattooed upper body to his thick stone-hard thighs and dick.

But there was one part of his body that I couldn't see. One part that was magnificent and that I needed to see. "Turn around," I whispered in his ear.

"W-What?"

"Turn around and show me your butt, Prince," I clarified and waited for him to move.

Unsurely, he supported himself on the edges and sat up. Although he couldn't see he could feel, so he had no difficulty turning around and putting his hands on the edge he had been resting his back on until now. He arched his back, adding to the sex appeal that the tub already delivered. Damn, how could an ass be that good-looking? How could—

"C-Can you spank me?" he interrupted me from my thoughts.

Did I even know my best friend? Or did he know me so well that he knew that was exactly what I wanted to do in that moment?

"What do you say, Prince?"

Good boy knew the answer, "Please."

"You'll need to beg a little more than that," I said teasingly, making him swallow yet another piece of his pride.

"Can you, please, please, spank me, Mami? I've been so good until now; don't I deserve it?"

He made a fair point. And he also confirmed my theory of him having a praise kink.

"Yes, you do, Prince. You've been so obedient until now, of course you deserve a little pain."

His cheeks tinted pink. Yes, he did indeed have a praise kink.

Suddenly I spanked him, creating a loud echo of skin-to-skin sound. He jolted forward with a whine, not expecting the hit since he couldn't see me or my hand in the air. His cheeks jiggled and I swore that my ex had never made me this wet before as I felt my wetness drip down my thighs.

"H-Harder, please, Mami."

"Since you're such a good prince for me, of course!" Those words. He loved hearing them. He knew I probably had those thoughts already, since he's aware he's a good boy, but hearing me say them made his heart race. Once again, I hit his skin and made him jolt forward from the harsh touch. Except this time, he moaned out my title louder. He held his head down, adding to the submission.

"M-Mami—"

"You want more, Prince?"

"Yes, plea—"

Spank! Before he even could finish his answer, my hand was back on his cheek again — I had already predicted his answer. Now one of his cheeks had my red handprint on it, matching his blindfold and blush, whilst the other cheek had no mark. And I was going to keep it that way. Asymmetry is beautiful.

His blindfold, nipple and cheek weren't the only things red. The part of his body that needed me the most hadn't gotten any attention yet. His dick's color stood out from most of his body and the way he reacted to small touches could only hint at him needing me to touch it.

"Turn around," I ordered him again.

"W-What— But you haven't—"

"Do you want me to touch your prince part?" I disrupted him.

"Y-Yes."

"Then turn around and show it to me, Prince."

He let go of the tub and turned around in the water, making sure to be comfortable when resting his back against it because he knew he'd stay in that position for a while. He heard how I got into the tub too. The water was rippling, and my feet were touching the tub; he could both feel and hear that I got in. Slowly, as to not drive any water out, I sank down onto his lap and put my hands on the tub on either side of his head. The feeling of my smooth skin on his indicated I had taken off the lingerie. That only meant one thing. I drew closer to him and whispered in his ear a million-dollar question: "Do you want your dick inside me?"

Gulping, he nodded promptly.

"Use your words, Prince," I sang.

He took another gulp before speaking, "Y-Yes, please, Mami."

"Good boy," I praised and watched as his true smile made an appearance like it'd done many times tonight.

Only to form an 'o' and let a long moan out as I sat down and got filled up by his dick deliciously. "Ah~ M-Mami~" The sensitivity of waiting and being blindfolded added with my tightness was what brought out his embarrassingly loud moan.

I needed to get used to the size since he was bigger than my last lover. In the meantime, I decided to get back to his stunning neck and kiss it. He had two prominent birthmarks under his Adam's apple; the left one was higher up and the right one was closer to his collarbone. Since I can remember I had liked them. They were a distinctive feature of his, just like his tattoos. I kissed both birthmarks and started moving up and down slowly on his dick. This wasn't going to be a hard fuck session; this was going to be a slow and soft lovemaking session because he was my prince. For tonight at least.

He sporadically let out moans that ranged from high to low pitched, long to short lasting — all of them were music to my ears — a love song I'd think of every now and then when I didn't have my prince by my side. The sound of the water moving each time I did was the background music. I started marking his neck with beautiful love bites, not hickeys, because these marks were out of love. Love and pride, as I wanted everyone to see that he was mine.

As I sucked harder on his neck, his moans turned into constant whimpers. He didn't know what this feeling was. Never had he ever made love with someone before. Sure, he'd been caring in bed but never had he felt this cared for before. On the other hand, it wasn't my first time. I had done this to Yeonjun every time I wanted him to know how much he meant to me (all the time). But, although this was an illusion me and Heeseung had created, it felt real.

"Ma-Mami, can you go rougher on me? Please?" At that I sunk my teeth into his collarbone, not the one with the tattoo, but the bare one. I didn't want to cover the meaning behind the tattoo, instead I wanted to cover the other part of skin, so I'd be the one who in a way adorned both sides. The friend in me was in his tattoo and the lover in me was in his mark. He bit his lower lip to try to conceal the pathetic whimper, failing while doing so. Sure, he loved being taken care of, but he also loved pain.

My thrusts were slow, yet long lasting, like the memory of this night would be soon. This felt surreal. Our connection. Our love. Our everything. The love bites on his neck and the literal bite mark on his collarbone would be enough proof the next morning when Heeseung would wake up that this night in fact had happened.

He let go of his lower lip and let the whimpers out freely, not caring that it hurt his pride because when you're in love your pride doesn't matter as much as it did before. He was reaching his breaking point and so was I but we both purposely held our orgasms back. We didn't want this to end. We wanted this love to last as long as it possibly could. We knew that the next day we would go back to being best friends; there'd be no more Prince and Mami. We knew that we would be gone like the pink water in this tub would be in the morning. The marks would remain on his neck and shoulder the next morning...but the illusion of love wouldn't.

"A-Are you cumming?" I asked, drunk on love.

"Y-Yes, b-but I can wait." We had already been at it for longer than an hour — even the water was cold — but that wasn't enough. We were both exhausted, both mentally because it was late and physically because of the lovemaking.

"I know you want to cum, Prince," I said, not wanting him to wear himself out.

"C-Can you choke me first, Mami? Please, I've a-always wanted y-you to do that to me," he mumbled.

I didn't answer him, instead I let go of the edge and circled my fingers around his neck. For most people, choking was some kinky shit. But for us, it was romance. I was quite literally holding his life in my hand and he trusted me with it. He trusted me with his whole life, and I didn't let him down. That's a part of love; letting yourself into a vulnerable position, knowing the other person can hurt you, but staying because you have faith in that they would love you instead.

In this moment, he had everything he didn't know he wanted. He felt like he'd arrived in utopia by accident. There was nothing he wanted to change. Nothing. And neither did I. His marks were asymmetrical, but that was in my eyes perfect. I tightened my grip on his neck a little, making him choke out a small whiney moan. At the same time, I felt my core aching and his dick pulsating. We needed to cum. Physically we needed to. But emotionally we didn't want to.

"Let's cum together," I said and let go of his neck

"Please, just a little more," he begged.

"We can't hold back, and you know it," I stated.

"Please, Mami," he cracked his voice. I looked at his face. His face was red, and the blindfold had wet patches. The patches weren't there because of the water splashing on him (I had made sure to not splash any on his face), they were there because they'd gotten out of his eyes. He was crying, not wanting us to come to an end. But we needed to. He wasn't my boyfriend; he was only playing the role of my boyfriend. I treated him as if he were Yeonjun, not Heeseung.

For the first time ever, I kissed him. Not on his body, but on his lips. He returned the kiss with just as much thirst as me. Surrounded by water, yet we thirsted for each other. We needed to savor this before it ran out. I tangled my hands into his soft hair, not caring if I ruined his hair anymore. I didn't care. All I cared about was this moment. For the first time this night, he let go of the tub fully and put his hands on my skin, letting them relish and remember every curve and edge before he'd never get to touch me like this ever again.

I paused the kiss and said for the last time, "Let's cum together."

"Can you take th-the blindfold off first?"

Truth was that he wanted to see me so he could have a visual memory of that one time he made love with his best friend. During all of this, he'd had a blindfold and although he felt that everything was real, he wanted to know for sure he wasn't dreaming. I untied it and threw it away to who-cares-where. He opened his eyes and took in the view of me. I was naked. I was raw. I was vulnerable. I had no layers shrouding any part of me. "I love you," he said, looking into my eyes.

Holding his face in my hands, I said, "I love you too."

And there we reached our climax.

The end.

{One year later}

Valentine's Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

I walked into our bedroom and was met by a wonderful view. My real boyfriend was standing in front of our bed. "I missed you so much, Baby," I smiled and kissed his cheek as per usual.

He was clad in only a pair of boxers and nothing else. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh really?" I asked, amused, and sat down on the bed as he stood in front of me.

He coughed to clear his throat and looked serious, "I've been keeping a little secret from you for a little while now..."

What did he mean? Had he been reconsidering our relationship? Was I going to relive the same heartbreak as last year?

I must've looked worried, because suddenly he broke out of the serious trance he tried to be in and smiled at me. Slowly he pulled down his underwear to reveal the little surprise.

Right on his V-line.

A tattoo.

Of a little crown.

Because he is my prince.

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

“Me with no makeup, you in the bathtub

Bubbles and bubbly, ooh

This is a pleasure, feel like we never

Act this regular

(…)

Kiss me and take off your clothes

Imagine a world like that”

—ari

[ladykailitha]

Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.

But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!

*

Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.

What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.

The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.

They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.

It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.

Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.

It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.

Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.

"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.

"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.

The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."

Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."

"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.

Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"

He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.

The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.

The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)

He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.

The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."

The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."

"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.

"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."

Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."

Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."

Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."

Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."

Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"

Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"

Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"

Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.

Steve laughed.

"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.

"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."

Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."

"Thanks."

Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.

"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."

"Patches," Eddie said.

Steve hummed his confusion.

"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.

Steve smiled. "That's cool."

Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.

"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.

Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.

"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.

Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.

They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.

It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.

"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."

"Good night, Stevie."

Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."

Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."

"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."

Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.

Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.

But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.

*

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy

[just-another-personal-side-blog]

Session 0 - Damian Priest x Tattoo Artist

Part 1 of 6

Rating: T

Beta Reader: @jstarr86

“Trust me Dam, she’s the best at what she does. It doesn’t hurt that I’d trust her with my life. You’ve been going on about finally getting that back piece, there’s no one better.” Rhea practically herded him towards what looked like an absolute hole in the wall, his nerves judged it based on first appearance.

“Most of my art was done by her, I’ve been meaning to introduce Dom as well. You got first dibs of course.” She paused at the door giving him a single raised brow, “You do trust me, don’t you Damian?”

Cornered he let out a sigh, it doesn’t hurt to at least take a look to appease her. 

“Fine, after you.” 

A bell above the door could just barely be heard over the heavy rock that beat like a pulse within the confines of the lobby. Framed detailed tattoo sketches hung upon the walls, behind the front desk were a collection of awards and licenses to prove this place was legit. Folders full of premade basic bitch designs sat on the coffee table by comfortable leather chairs, Rhea pressed a button at the front. No sound could be heard but in a span of seconds a young woman came out from the back.

“How can I- Oh! Shit! Rhea! Hey girl! Why didn’t you give me a heads up that you were coming?” Priest looked up from one of the framed pieces he was admiring. Apparently the new arrival hadn’t noticed him from the angle he was standing, not something he was used to given his size. He took a moment to admire the person before him…

Purple faux hawk with an under-fade, full tattoo sleeves on both arms, legs, and back, several piercings both visible and one not, brilliant blue eyes with some intense metallic goth eye makeup and a stunning smile. A pair of fake leather leggings with lace ups on the outside of the legs, a fishnet crop top under a Beetlejuice tank top, tying it all together was a basic durable black dog collar and a pair of Demonia knee length boots.Unlike the blonde Barbie she was finishing up, Rhea’s friend wasn’t stick skinny. She was probably a good size 9 or 10, there was some plump flesh but it appeared to have some sturdy muscle underneath. A full pair of breasts accentuated beautifully with the fishnet, and hips perfect to dig fingers into.

“I brought a friend that I thought you might like meeting, he’s been talking about wanting a new big tat for awhile now. So I told him there's only one person I’d trust with that.” After a moment the girl turned to look at him, there was immediate recognition as well as shock across her features. It was brief and fleeting before putting up a friendly facade.

It took Rhea slapping on the bicep to smack Damian back present, realizing he’d been staring at the artist long after the gal she’d been working on had left happily. Meaning he had given her an intense resting bitch for a good minute now. Incredibly embarrassed Priest offered a hand which she accepted with an impressive firm hand shake.

“You can call me Minnie, only people I like get to use that.” Rhea playful shoulder checked her with a warm smile,

“It’s short for Minerva, her parents were from Athens originally”

“So your namesake is a Goddess of War, seems fitting.” Bright sky blue eyes flicked up from the sketchbook she’d grabbed to start jotting ideas from him. And without pause blossomed like a Sunflower, taking note of the dimple on her right cheek. 

“Best make sure you never get on my bad side, Rhea has some great stories of me chasing off her exes prior to Wrestling. I’m only five years older than her, not to mention like 5 inches shorter even without those elevator shoes she stomps around in.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed that at all. Both of you still don’t have me beat.”

“Well you clearly discovered immortality in high school, because you haven't aged a bit.”

Rhea perched herself on the spare stool in the room, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she watched the two getting comfortable with their back and forth.

“What she neglected to mention is the three times she chased them off with a metal bat wrapped in barbed wire and nails welded to it.”

“Jokes on you, I still sleep with that bat beside my bed. Safety first and all that fun stuff. Safer than a machete, I’d rather not accidentally stab myself in my sleep.”

“That’s why we’re best friends.” The Aussie grins before giving Minnie a cheeky wink.

“Why do I feel like I got led into a trap?” She wrinkled her nose at Damian before opening the sketchbook before her.

“You have nothing to worry about Butterscotch, I take my art very seriously. Now let’s start discussing what you’re looking to get and where. I’ll let you know now, that while I’m sure you’re likely VERY blessed… I don’t do anything where I gotta see dick or vag.”

Priest momentarily choked on his saliva while Rhea guffawed in glee. A quick side eye glare at her smothered the sound to a quiet chuckle. Something about her felt like she was messing with the poor Puerto Rican man, akin to a cat staring directly at their owner while pushing a glass of water off the counter playfully.

“You’ve already got plenty of gorgeous pieces on that flawless flesh. What are you thinking of doing?”

No hesitation he pulled his t-shirt up and over while turning to show the empty expanse of his back. Her breath caught audibly, eyes briefly went wide glancing at Ripley wildly. The female wrestler grinned like the Cheshire Cat, watching each interaction with fascination. Plans coming to fruition.

The tattooer bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to focus on what he was actually saying. Once locked in, Minnie began to sketch up fluidly upon paper, at one point he was leaning over her shoulder admiring the work of a talented creative. Bringing his vision to life on the crisp white paper, each description rumbled like incoming thunder located in the man’s voice box. Thank god for hyperfocus cuz lord only knows this was gonna be a genuine challenge for her self-control. All she wanted to do was trace those tattoos on him with her tongue. She had to shake her head to focus back in again, hands working on autopilot, taking in his words with each glide of charcoal across parchment. 

When he finished describing it she looked back up at him with a friendly smile,

“How big are you thinking of making it? So I know what to prepare for, as well as how many sessions to schedule in advance.” He tilted his head in thought momentarily before answering,

“Ideally I’d like it to cover a majority of my back.” She nodded in agreement,

“Alright, I’ve got the sketch started. I'll email you three different versions and you let me know what you like and what you don’t. And if there's aspects you like in one and want to add it to another one, just let me know. This is your tattoo on your skin, I want you to love it decades from now. How’s that sound?”  Damian was genuinely impressed with her professionalism, even as he controls the strong desire to flirt with her. This was a time to behave, she was Rhea’s best friend, and thus not someone to attempt to make any moves towards. 

“That sounds great to me, thanks.” Her smile was so sweet it could have made him diabetic just looking at it. 

“Great. Oh and Rhea, let me know when you want to come in and do those matching ghost tattoos with Dom.” 

“No rush, he’s busy planning his wedding right now so it’s gonna be a bit.”

“Sounds good to me. Now unfortunately I do have another client coming in twenty minutes so I gotta start prepping.” She pulled a business card from her bra, handing it over to Damian,

“My email and personal number is on there in case you think of something you want to add to the tat.Sound good?” Minnie gave a bashful little smile, and it made something deep in his chest want to say something incredibly forward. Rhea snagged him by the elbow, grinning like a cat that caught the canary. 

A nod of thanks was all he got out before being ushered back out, quicker than able to verbalize his appreciation. Ripley called back loudly,

“Thanks love! I’ll make sure he remembers to check his email regularly.” As if he didn’t already do that for work contacts to begin with. Once back in the car Priest gave his companion a look of utter suspicion, he could tell that she had ulterior motives. Nothing vicious or cruel, but she’d tried to set him up on a couple dates in the past, none that worked out. He’s focused on work, most women didn’t appreciate not being number one in his life. It’s been a string of disappointments, to where he bluntly asked Rhea to stop playing cupid. 

“This better not be an attempt at matchmaking again-” She cut him off with a sigh,

“I’ve long accepted that the ball is in your court from now on. I really truly just wanted you to go to an artist I’d trust my life with. She’s a good one, professional, talented, she spent twenty years as an apprentice before taking on her own clients. To top it off, she’s loyal, fun, and could use more genuine friends other than me. Can you blame me for that?” Her tone of voice was honest, after how much time they’d spent together, he could easily tell when she was bullshitting. Damian nodded to her as a show of acceptance to what she was saying. Her attention locked on the drive back to her place, Buddy was gonna get some sparring practice in with the other man. 

His gaze trailed a spot in the distance, trying to keep that woman out of his thoughts… failing miserably. She had such a lovely face, and all the art on display was impressive to be sure. The name Minerva fit her perfectly, especially with how protective she was of the Australian wrestler. It was endearing how she was barely 5’3 and was ready to take on the world to keep her 5’7 well-muscled friend safe. He hadn’t noticed the small smile that spread across his features, but Ripley sure took note of it. Keeping her features stoic while internally she was so pleased with herself. 

She pulled into the driveway where her man was waiting, he waved as they got out of the car. Buddy smiled at them, 

“I’m guessing it went well? Minnie is great at what she does. Rhea doesn’t like to share her with people, so it’s a hell of a compliment she brought you.” She gave him a quick kiss before heading into the house calling back,

“Play nice boys don’t forget the Terror Twins have some matches coming up.”

Damian shook his head w a huff before following the ginger towards their personal gym. Somehow he still had a sneaking suspicion that Rhea was playing a long game now instead of all the quick fruitless dates in the past… The image of Minerva slid by again, and for once… he might be okay with that.

Tagged:

@superlove167 @midnightlycan @mooshroomii420 @hotwheels1108 @misslackey @gigisview @abadbitchblogs @sexyblacksimper @sweetmoonlove0214 @daithideolishmer118 @tomandbuckyfan1 @terrortwinunicorn @iy-16-18 @sluttysierraaa @jstarr86 @zombiedixon89 @horsekoala @fearlesschimera @eringobragh420 @elainneoneill570 @gretavanhockey @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @sad-dreamer93 @agustd202204 @nubian-queen22 @kaitlinlovetwister @bosslady3168 @gabberzzz1998 @mol2311

[pars-ley]

Title: I...do? (part two) Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female reader Summary: With your imminent fake wedding only weeks away, it was time for Mr. Kim to meet your parents. How will he be received and can you keep up the charade? Genre: Enemies to lovers au / CEO au / fake dating au / colleagues to lovers au / co-workers to lovers / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 18+ (future chapters will be NSFW) Warnings (per chapter): Minor mention of assault and harassment in the past / Rude Taehyung / Brief mention of death of a family member W/C: 4.7k Banner: @shadowkoo <3 Beta: @casuallyimagining thank you! Notes: Here’s part two, hope you all enjoy! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments, they have really been helping with motivation. If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! Taglist: @taebae19 @ladyartemesia @taestannie @somewhereofftheglobe @m-1234 @siadreams @moonchild1 @taebangtanbabe @leedoesntknaur @11thenightwemet11 @chickenscoups @stellamalonesolaria @taiwan0618

Friday:

"Well the good news is that I know most of the answers to these questions about you," you mumble, flicking through the pages of research you've done, to prepare on what to expect from your upcoming interview, "bad news is, you have to learn all this about me in two weeks."

He snatches the papers out of your hands and flicks through the questions. "You know all the answers to these?" He asks incredulously, shifting in his seat.

"Unfortunately, yes." You glance out of the train window, watching the scenery fly past you, feeling an odd sense of calm as you journey to your parents, preparing to lie to them. Your throat tightens at the thought.  

“Ok,” he interrupts your increasingly chaotic thoughts, “answer this one, ‘does your spouse have any tattoos?’”

“Yes, I'm pretty sure you do.”

He looks at you incredulously, “Pretty sure?”

Nodding, you continue, “You had a call from a studio a while back, wanting you to confirm your appointment. Naturally, I looked it up and they specialise in tattoo removal, but you asked me to cancel the appointment. Therefore, I'm pretty sure you've still got it.”

He stares at you blankly before leaning back in his seat, smirking, “Ok then, miss know-it-all, what's the tattoo of?” 

“I'm guessing some kind of creature, like a frog.”

His body tenses and the smug look on his face vanishes, confirming you're right and that only irritates him, judging by the hard stare he throws your way.

“How would you even know that?”

You hesitate, knowing he won't want to hear it and it will only make him more annoyed. “Judging by the quote you received about the removal it's something small and in their correspondence they mentioned green being the hardest colour to remove.” You pause, unsure whether to carry on but his pointedly arched brow indicates that he won't drop this. “Two years ago, I was helping you arrange your grandmother's funeral and you wanted an arrangement of flowers in the shape of a frog, insisting they were her favourite. I put two and two together and assumed you'd got it on her behalf.”

Glancing over at him, his brows knit together pained and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, sensing you’d overstepped the mark of his personal boundaries. He avoids your eyes and focuses back on the sheets of questions, clearing his throat.

"We need to figure out the answers to these ones." You point at a set on one of the pages, attempting to have a swift change of subject and he nods scanning through them.

"What do you like the most about him/her?" he reads aloud.

You scoff and mumble, "when he's silent and very far away," completely ignoring the deadpan look he gives you.

"When was your wife's last menstrual period?" he gasps with a grimace. "Is that really something a husband would know?" 

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yes, probably."

"When did you last have intimate relations?" he almost squeaks. You notice with amusement the subtle pink shade his cheeks have turned.

"Might be better to say something outlandish to Mr Jung, like, 'in the elevator on our way up here.'"

His mouth pops open as he stares at your face, recognising how serious you are. "Don't be absurd."

You shrug, "just a suggestion." As you turn away and gaze out, yet again, at the familiar scenery from the window, a sense of home and dread fill you at once. You missed your family, of course but you didn't miss this small town and you were certainly not excited about lying to them all weekend but you expel that from your mind and focus on one stressful task at a time.

Soon enough you are at the station, a heavy rock in your stomach weighing you down and making your feet slow and sluggish as you gather your belongings and exit the train. 

"So, this is where you grew up?" Mr. Kim asks, looking at the shops and townsfolk with a slight grimace. He climbs into the cab waiting to take you on the short journey to your parents house, all the while looking out the window, he adds, "looks like hell on earth."

You ignore his remark, fixated on the buildings as they race past, memories bombarding you like an intruder you can't escape. Your mind stays trapped, witnessing every replay of details you've pushed aside for the last three years, most of them involving one person in particular and you hope to god you don’t run into him…

"Is this the right place?" Mr Kim nudges your side, snapping you out of it and bringing you back to the present. Your gaze focuses on the three story house staring back at you, with the porch swing out the front and fresh homemade lemonade already placed on the table on the porch. Your family home. 

"Yep, come on." Sliding out, you pay the cab driver.

It's all too quiet as you pull your suitcases along the pathway, your eyes darting around for any signs of your parents. You focus on calming your thumping heart to a normal speed, preparing yourself to lie to the faces of the people you care about the most.

"You're here!" 

You look up at your mother’s squeal, as she runs out to greet you before being pulled into her tight embrace. Relaxing instantly into the soft comfort of her frame and the scent of her perfume welcoming you back and making you feel like a child again. 

"I missed you so much." She whispers, giving you an extra squeeze. 

"Missed you too, ma." 

"Oh, well, hello there." Your mum releases you and quickly turns her attention to Mr Kim. "I am very sad that we have not met sooner…" she looks over at you, an approving smirk etched into her mouth.

"Taehyung, Kim Taehyung." he says, straight faced and shaking her hand like a formal business meeting.

You watch her face fall as she connects the dots. "As in…her boss, Mr Kim?" 

He gives a curt nod, "yes, one and the same." 

She gives a very false smile and nods. "Ah, I see." Turning to you, you're penetrated by the glare in her eyes and inwardly roll yours, knowing all too well that she may despise your boss more than you do. Mentally, you prepare yourself for the imminent lecture. "Please, have a seat and pour yourself a glass of lemonade, while my daughter helps me in the kitchen." she says over her shoulder as she ushers you through the porch door.

As soon as she has dragged you through the house, satisfied that she's far enough away from your guests ears, she spins on you. "What on earth is going on? You're dating your boss! Have you not learned anything being away from home? That is not the way you get ahead in your career."

That slaps you in the face like a wet fish. "Wait, ma-"

"I thought you couldn't stand him? After all the things you've told me about him. You're a smart girl, what are you thinking!?" 

"Ma!" you shout, interrupting her tirade. "I'm not dating him for my career."

No, just planning on marrying him to stop him being deported in exchange for a promotion. The rock in the pit of your stomach has well and truly settled.

You take a deep breath as your mother watches you with careful eyes. "Something has just changed, I can't explain it but one moment I hated him, the next I was…" you struggle to find the right word.

Your mother's face softens, "I understand." 

Confusion marres your brow at the sudden switch of her mood. "I was the same with your father, bless him. He was head over heels for me and I just wasn't interested. I was looking for someone more...exciting."

Seeing your mother get lost in her own memories makes you smile but hearing this revelation is definitely a first. You’ve lived your whole life thinking your parents were an old fashioned case of love at first sight and instant soulmates, turns out that wasn't the case. 

"I was foolish, one day, he came into the store I worked in - I was there on my own and having some trouble with a couple of guys - and your dad stepped in. He punched one of them in the face and broke his nose. Let me tell you they left pretty quickly after that, and from that moment on I realised how lucky I was to have a man like your dad interested in me. He's been there for me through everything since."

You smile at the dreamy look in her eyes. 

"Is that my little girl?" Your dad's voice steals your attention, as you're pulled into his warm embrace. "Let me look at you." He holds you out at arms length, studying you with a big grin plastered across his face. "Just as beautiful as always." He whispers, planting a big kiss on your cheek before giving you another squeeze. 

"Ma was just telling me about the time you punched a guy in the face for her." 

"I sure did, harassing your mother in such a fashion, the disrespect…he needed to be taught a lesson."

They kiss each other tenderly and you avert your eyes, ignoring the pang in your chest to have that with someone one day. Realisation dawning on you that you're marrying for no other reason than blackmail and a business transaction. Sadness and disappointment in yourself threatens to overwhelm you.

"So where's this fella of yours then?" your dad asks, his arms still pinning your mother to his side.

"Brace yourself, honey...it's her boss." 

"I thought you were bringing your boyfriend?" confusion wrinkles his forehead as he looks between you and your mother. 

"She did, dear." your mother replies, as she busy's herself with arranging a plate of fresh fruit.

"You brought your boss and your boyfriend?" 

“For goodness sake.” she sighs, exasperated.

“One and the same, dad.” you smile fondly, realising how much you'd missed them both, your dad in particular.

He looks around bewildered for a moment, “I thought you hated your boss?”

"I do, I mean, I did." you add, swallowing nervously, nothing gets past your dad at the best of times and lying to him now feels like stabbing yourself in your own gut and twisting the knife.

"Come on, we've kept him outside on his own for long enough, stop being rude." your mother ushers you both outside, smacking you on the bottom as you go and making you laugh.

Your dad wastes no time in shaking his hand and introducing himself with his signature beaming grin, as you all sit around the table on the porch. You could see him reading everything about your boss, from his body language to his facial expressions, you almost felt pity for Mr. Kim...almost. That is, until you hear him say the words you were not yet ready or prepared to tell your parents.

Complete silence has beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck, as you glare furiously at your boss.

“I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly,” your mother asks mechanically, “the two of you are engaged?”

You swallow the lump of anxiety and panic and put on your best smile. “We were going to wait to announce it to you both,” you say, trying not to grit your teeth with fury, “but yes, we’re getting married.”

Your mum is instantly tugging you up and into an excited hug before diving onto Mr. Kim’s lap and pulling him into a deathly tight embrace. The way his eyes bulge out of his sockets with surprise has you biting your lip to hide your laugh as you enjoy the awkwardness he very clearly feels.

Your dad’s reaction, however, causes bile to rise up into your throat and leave a burning trail in its wake with his stern glare at your fiancé. He looks over at you with worried eyes and you blink away the tears that threaten beneath the surface. He places a hand on top of yours and pats it, before getting up and heading silently inside the house. The urge to throw up is almost overwhelming, as your stomach seems to sink into the ground under your feet. All the while, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. The child in you wants to run to him, own up and tell him the truth, while begging for his forgiveness but the adult in you knows you have to bite your tongue and stay strong, you’ve made your choice and it's too late to back out now.

Your mum is quick to follow him, quietly smiling her congratulations and disappearing, leaving the two of you alone. Your head snaps up to him. “What in the holy fuck was that?”

He shrugs. “We came here to tell your parents we’re getting married. We’ve done that, now we can leave.”

If you weren’t so furious, your mouth would have hung open in shock. “We agreed that we would be here for the weekend.”

He clenches his jaw as he looks out into the neighbourhood, “that was before I realised what type of place you grew up in. You can’t expect me to stay here in the middle of nowhere, do you even get cell service out here?” he pulls out his phone and holds it up in the air. “ I bet there isn’t a decent hotel anywhere near this tiny town, either.”

You move to the seat next to him and lower your voice, “If you want me to marry you, don’t disrespect my family. We are staying here and you’re going to shut up and deal with it, you got it?”

He stares you down for a moment before you watch the slight resolve soften his glare. “Fine.”

You relax slightly in your seat. “I know this may be impossible for you but you need to try to get my dad to like you if you want this wedding to happen smoothly.”

He scoffs, “how can I get someone to like me?”

You shrug, “I can’t help you, I’ve known you for nearly three years now and I still don’t like you and my dad is a lot harder to please than I am, believe me.” 

The evening passes slowly after your dad drives down to the local bar without saying a word to either of you. Your mother makes excuses and apologies but you know him well enough to know it’s because he doesn’t approve of your decision.

Dinner goes by in a blur, you and your mother talk about the wedding, you're having to make most of it up on the spot, and pray Mr. Kim keeps quiet, so as not to say anything rude or off putting. Your mother seems to have taken a slight shine to him, goodness, knows why.

“Ok, your room is all ready for you,” your mother says, leading you up the stairs. “I’ve only tidied it a bit, I’ve tried to keep everything where you left it.”

You smile at your parents sentiment. “Where will Taehyung be sleeping?”

She laughs, “with you, of course.” she turns back to him. “I assure you, I’m not as old fashioned as my daughter seems to think.”

You cannot hide your shock as you argue, “but that was always the rule!”

“For your last boyfriend, yes, I didn’t trust his intentions and look how right I turned out to be.”

You are silenced by the pain of the memory, wading out of the dark cloud that threatens to envelope you. Forcing it aside, you are transported back a few years seeing your old room. Everything, even the posters, are just where you left it. Your mother says goodnight and closes the door behind her, leaving you two alone and in the shadow of night. 

“Good grief,” his voice sounds beside you. “Lord of the Rings, really?” He asks, staring at the Fellowship of the Ring movie poster.

“They’re great movies.” you retort, rifling through your luggage for pyjamas.

“Why am I not surprised? You know, they did start off as books. Not that I expect you to have read them, they are very challenging.”

You march off into the bathroom hugging your toothbrush. “Shows what you know. I’ve read the books more times than I can count,” looking back at him heading towards the bed, you add, “and I don’t know what ideas you’ve got but you are sleeping on the floor.” The sound of the door slamming behind you, echoes in the bathroom as you collapse against it wanting nothing more than to smother him with a pillow and bury his body in the garden. How could he possibly be likeable to anyone? How could you two pull this off? You’re not sure it’s possible but you were in too far to turn back now. You had to give this all you could, whether you liked it or not.

[moth-nana]

Christmas invite

Hanma Shuji x gn!reader

Summary: Inviting him to your house for Christmas by your parents reguest.

A Cristmas short for the Christmas lovers!

Words: 739

You and Shuji had been dating for five months now and you had finally mentioned him to your parents.

Your parents were so excited for you to finally have a significant other so they instantly told you to bring him as a plus one to the family Christmas. You were nervous since you knew that your relatives could be sometimes really intrusive with their questions.

“You should really invite him.” Your mom tried to get you to agree and your dad was nodding his head. 

“I don’t know if you will like him, though…” You mumbled before your mom gave you that ‘mom knows better’ look. 

“I think we are the judges of that.” she stated as she pointed at her and your dad. “If he is not good for you we will kick him out.” Your dad added and you gave him a nervous look. “We are good as long as he is not some kind of trouble maker.” He added. You gave them a nervous smile. 

———

“Fuck this.” You mumble as you watch Shuji talking to some of his friends and Kisaki.

You were seriously doubting if you should ask him to spend Christmas at your house. It wasn’t like you two had been dating that long and he hadn’t even met your parents before. You had sneaked him into your room at the start of your relationship but he never had entered the house from the front door nor been found out by anyone at your house.

You see how Kisaki Tetta made his way from Shuji towards the nearest convenience store. Shuji turned towards you and flashed you something between a smirk and a smile before starting to walk towards you.

“You seem to be in your thoughts.” He stated before adding “Am I that good looking~” 

You gave him a side eye before a sight left your lips. “I needed to ask you if you would like to spend your Christmas at my place with my family.” You didn’t look at him as you spoke but you could feel how his lips had curved into a smirk.

“Is my darling finally going to introduce me to their family?” He tased and leaned his head on top of yours.

You huffed before moving so you could look him into the eyes.

“My parents insisted on me asking you,” You tell him, not breaking eye contact with him before continuing. “The worst is that it’s not just me and my parents but also some of our relatives.”

He chuckled. “That would be my pleasure, darling. I promise they will love me.” He joked with a smirk on his face before pecking your forehead. 

“The last thing that they said was and i quote ‘we are good as long as he is not a troublemaker.’” You huff. “And that is something I know you can’t hide at all.” 

“Would it be so bad if they would see how wonderful your secret boyfriend is?~”

“I know you would lose it, at least, with my grandfather if not the others.” You were giving him a stern look. 

“But now that I have been invited by your parents I will attend~”

———

“And then they pulled Santa Claus's fake beard off his face to prove a point!” Your grandpa was telling Shuji how you pulled Santa Claus’s beard off when you were six to prove that he was the fake one since you had seen him get out of a gray car as you were watching from the window ten minutes before. 

“And then they threw it into the ground and started to cry because it wasn’t the real Santa!” 

You could admit that you were entirely wrong when you thought that your grandpa would not like Shuji. Your grandpa seemed to love Shuji even though your dad looked like he wasn’t pleased by him. As soon as your dad saw that he had tattoos on his hands he turned to look at you with narrow eyes before giving Shuji a tight handshake.

But it was a good Christmas and one of the most memorable of them all. Shuji got along with your grandpa and most of your cousins and that was all that mattered. You all had fun.

"Shuji, I love you." was the last thing you said to him that night and ended up having a make out session at the front steps of your parents house.

a/n: I haven't been posting anything in a while and I'm sorry about that. School has been taking a lot of time but now I have been having more time to write🙏😌

[emojellyace08]

hii! It’s me again, sorry 😭

So I was wondering if I could make another request (again sorry if I’m annoying 😭🖐)

Like Gun, Goo, Jake, Samuel and DG with an S/O who is a kindergarten teacher?? And she’s really sweet kids love her??

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞-𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫! 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐎𝐌𝐆 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 (𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐧) 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!

⤷ 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞 (𝐃𝐆), 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐨, 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚, 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚, 𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐡𝐧

It's quite surprising that you got to date this bastard despite your life styles being really different. The school management are super worried to hire you as a new pre-school teacher because of fresh gossips that you are dating a "gangster" or someone who is "involved with the mafia". But you proved them wrong with how effective your teaching skills are and how gentle and nice you are with children 🖤✨😇🥀.

If you asked him out to help teach the kids, he is really hesitant at first. Because he doesn't want to ruin your and his reputations, and second, he's really busy with business that he's handling, and third, he might accidentally hurt the kids and he may just cause you trouble.

But, if you really asked him to (with your help of course) he may accept the offer. Though expect him to have that poker face all the time 💀✋.

The children may have 2 reactions. First, they may get a bit intimidated and scared because of how muscular he is (like for example having LOTS OF TATTOOS AND SCARS) and most especially his death glares at times 😭🗿. And the other children will be VERY FUND OF HIM. They're so impressed with his tattoos thinking that those are cool body painting. Some may even tease you for bringing your future husband 😉. "WOW! YOU GOT COOL DRAWINGS ON YOUR ARMS MISTER!" a little boy with a bowl cut and a little girl with pigtails inspected his rather sturdy limbs while the other children "style and fixes" his hair with cute My Melody clips. "Thanks, I guess." he muttered while an another child approached him with a scared expression as she curiously asked "But I thought tattoos are bad? A-At least that's what my momma told me..." she mumbled as she was afraid to offend the scary looking guy. But surprisingly, he just sighed as he tried to explain the reasons about why he got those "offensive" markings on his body. "It's your decision in the future if you want to get tattoos or not. But you're still children. So that's the reason why your mom told you that getting tattoos are bad for your age." 🥺. You're literally going to smile as you get to see this soft side of him that he rarely shows.

He may not accept with playing hide and seek with the children since he's skeptical that he'll make some cry💀✋. But he will weirdly enjoy some calmer activities like drawing, painting, and he also doesn't mind if the little girls style him up with those fake make-up and hair clips. And playing toy trucks with the little boys, especially if you're with him enjoying this moment.

⤷ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐦,𝐆𝐨𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐧, 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐞, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐡𝐞𝐢, 𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐧 (𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧), 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 𝐉𝐢, 𝐉𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐋𝐞𝐞 (𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 💀🗿)

Is IRONICALLY INTO IT (even though if he denies it and thinks it's cringe LMAO).

Despite his somewhat a bad reputation, he's mostly a fun and loving guy especially with those who are close to him. Whether it's you (his loving partner), his family and friends, he's willing to feel vulnerable for the people he loves 🖤✨. And that side of him is rarely noticed because of how some people are quick to judge at times...

You want help with teaching the children? NO PROBLEM. As long as he gets to spend some extra time with you (like some sort of a date), he can't take down your offer. And also bonus points is that even if he somehow has that love and hate relationship with kids, he may even bring some candies, plushies, and learning materials for the children not only to enjoy but also learn 🖤✨.

He's really going to enjoy playing hide and seek with the children especially at play time. He may go a little cautious though as he doesn't want to freak them out at accidentally hurt them (considering how strong he is). And he's going to have those little talk with the boys about their crushes, teasing them and laughing out loud about some silly stories the boys tell him. He MAY curse a little though, so you got to watch out for his language and scold him to not get in trouble. "And when I was going inside the school, I didn't noticed the door closed so I hit my head and got a REALLY BIG BUMP ON MY FOREHEAD!" A boy with crooked teeth exclaimed quite proudly as his fellow students cackle at his silly story with your quite gleeful boyfriend. "HAHAHHAHHA THAT'S FUCKI-" "OI! LANGUAGE!" "EEK I'M SORRY MY LOVE!". And he'll also blush a lot when the annoying brats tease him with you being his girlfriend. "I HEARD THAT YOU HAVE A REALLY HUGE CRUSH ON MS. Y/N!" a little girl smirked as he hissed at the group of little brats as they let out chirps of laughter. "WELL, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A BOYFRIEND THOUGH! HUH!" "BECAUSE I'M STILL YOUNG MISTER STUPID!" "Children, what did I say about cursing?" you raised your eyebrows with that silly smile as your bf and she apologized.

Is REALLY BAD AT SPELLING like some of the other men above 💀✋. So you got to teach him the right grammar and pronunciation to not accidentally teach the children the REALLY WRONG WAY xD. And plays dress up with the girls with that goofy makeup 😭.

⤷ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨 (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐞), 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐄𝐥𝐢 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐧, 𝐉𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 & 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐞, 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 ; 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐡)

Is REALLY INTO IT (It's so obvious lol).

He's also a bit hesitant at first especially if he's busy. But if you really need help then he'll come with you.

He may not realize it but he's REALLY GOOD WITH TAKING CARE OF CHILDREN. YOU NAME IT. Whether it's academics like spelling, counting numbers and simple mathematics, cultural subjects like music, arts, physical education, studying language, or reading storybooks and fairy tales he's going to be a really amazing teacher! (Zack and Vasco may have a hard time at spelling some words though).

It's no surprise that he's really gentle and nice with your students as he is aware that he is more physically stronger than them. So he's really cautious about it when playing hide and seek or tag because he doesn't want to hurt them 🖤✨🥀🥺. He'll also scold at them at times if they almost bruise themselves like a protective dad and like they are his own children 😭. "Hey, I told you to not run fast. You know got a bruise you see." he calmly scolded the little boy as you rushed in the scene. "DARLING WHAT HAPPENED!" you noticed the little boy sniffing, not because he was scared of your boyfriend. But because of the stinging pain of the small injury he got. "I-I ran a bit fast... I'm sorry Ms. Y/N." he apologized as you both sighed while your boyfriend patch up his wounds with the extra band aid he got on his pocket. "It's okay. Just don't run a bit too fast next time okay?" O-Okay..." He may not like wearing make-up and hair clips but if it's for the girls' entertainment, then he would have no problems with it (he's so considerate AHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THEM SM). He may even brush their hair and even put some hair gel on the boys to boost up their confidence 💯.

I may sound emotional, but he'll also talk abut philosophic topics about life since he's really an empathetic guy you see. He'll talk about how the children should love their parents for their sacrifices, how much their childhood and innocence should be cherished while they are still kids, etc.. You may not expect it, but it may bring a bittersweet tears of joy on the children's eyes just because of how good of a person he is 🖤✨🥀 .

Feedbacks would be appreciated!

Feel free to request on the askbox!

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] SIX

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 7k

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

content. smoking, mild drug use, SMUT, mentions of past alcohol addiction, murder/implied death threats

a/n: i am so SORRRY you all had to wait like two fucking months for the next chapter. I came back from my summer vacation and had my birthday recently so i was inactive sorry sososrryryryryr 😔😔 hope you enjoyed this chapter ily all

2006

You tried concentrating as you poured some milk into your cereal but the sounds of the TV channels being flipped every two seconds drove you to borderline insanity. “Would you chill out?” you asked, glaring at Ran over your bowl of cereal.

“Can’t find anything worth watching.” He was lounging around in your living room, his feet kicked up on your table and shrugged, turning to look at you and flashing a cheesy yet charming grin in your direction. 

Your mother walked down the stairs, rubbing her eyes tiredly. When she saw a shirtless Ran sitting on her couch, she almost passed out when she saw the litter of tattoos on his chest, trailing up and down his leg and arm. 

Ran felt her stare and glanced at her, raising a curious eyebrow and anything she had to complain about instantly faded as she shut her mouth and walked over to the kitchen. 

She dragged you to a corner of the kitchen, one where Ran couldn’t hear. “Is this the guy…you were telling me about?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes?” you responded, looking at her weirdly and scooped your spoon back into your cereal. “Why?”

“Why is he here..? At ten in the morning?”

“Oh. Because he slept over.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied with the small unhelpful answers you were giving her.

“Oh. I didn’t see him last night. What time did you get home?”

You shrugged. “Around 2-3?”

She pressed her lips together, firmly. “Where’s his shirt?”

“I got hot during the night,” you laughed but she didn’t find it funny.

“Well couldn’t you give him another one?”

“Unless you want to see him in one of my tank tops then no.” The amusement slowly drifted away when you realised she wasn’t humouring you at all and she was being serious. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

She gave you a concerned look, like she expected the answer to be obvious but it only pissed you off more. Who the hell was she to judge who you liked?

Reading the look on your face, she instantly dropped the topic, not wanting to get into another argument with you, especially not sober. “Okay, fine. I won’t ask any questions.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the cupboard. “Are you at least going to school today? It started three hours ago.”

You shook your head. “I’m staying here with Ran today. You’ll be gone, right? For that job interview?”

“...yeah. My AA sponsor said I should start getting back on my feet.”

“Good.” You put your cereal bowl down. “I can stop carrying the household on my back and you can start doing your job as a mother,” you said sweetly, tilting your head condescendingly to the side. 

She returned your incredibly fake smile for a second and then sighed, dropping the act and returning back to concerned mother. “Skipping school for a boy though…? Is that really smart?”

You glared at her, pushing your side off the counter to stand in front of her. “Don’t start this. Not now. I’m happy, and he makes me happy. If you cared about me, you’d accept it. Hiro likes him too!”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to come off as gentle yet firm. “You may think he makes you happy, but—”

“I think I know what I like mom. I’m eighteen! I’m not some child that doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“You’re dating a guy that looks at least twenty—”

“I’m nineteen,” Ran called back from the living room, his eyes glued onto his phone. 

Your mother’s mouth closed shut as she ate down her words and you looked at her, waiting to see what bullshit she’d come up with next. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I didn’t know he could hear us.”

“So?”

Your mother grabbed your hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “What you’re going through, baby, is what every teenage girl goes through at your age. It’s a phase.”

“It’s not a—fuck! Mom!”

“It is!! I went through the same thing at your age. Next thing you know I got knocked up by a—”  she lowered her voice to ensure Ran couldn’t hear this time, “a delinquent. And how do you think that turned out?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly. He fucking left. Where else do you think your dad is right now?”

“I don’t care about that man. Ran is nothing like that. He actually cares about me. He got me a job, taught me things and even let’s me stay at his place when I don’t want to stay here.”

“Wait, you stay at his? Like live with him?” 

You nodded slowly. “The fact you don’t even know when I’m gone is concerning. What’s the problem anyway?I use protection if that’s what you’re so scared of—” 

“I just don’t want you fucking up your life like I did mine. Especially at your age. Okay?”

“Who said I’m—”  Your mother shushed you when your volume was starting to rise. You cleared your throat and spoke again, but more quietly, “who said I’m fucking my life up?”

“You’re literally skipping school!”

“It’s the first time! Just for today! It’s his only free day, okay? I dunno when I’ll be able to spend time with him again. Just let me have this. Please? I’ll catch up on my school work tomorrow. I promise.”

“He’s not a good influence, baby. You’re smart, you can do better than this.” 

“Are we done here?” You sighed, rubbing your temples in irritation. Your mother looked like she had more to say but closed her mouth and slowly shook her head. “Good.” You walked away from the kitchen, into the living room and flopped down on the couch next to Ran. 

You waited until your mother walked back up the stairs before turning to face Ran, putting your head on his shoulder.

 “Hey, pretty girl. You done arguing with your mother yet?” He said, attention fully on his phone and lifted his arm up to wrap around your shoulder, holding you tightly against his side. 

“Hiya,” you smiled and nuzzled your face in his chest, taking in his strong scent. “My mother thinks you’re a bad influence.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” he said, grinning. You playfully slapped his arm and he slid his hand down to your sides before lifting you up and to straddle his lap. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you said softly, lacing your arms behind his head and leaning down to peck him on the lips. “She’s just a hypocrite.”

“It’s fine baby. C’mere.” You shifted on his lap to rest your head against his shoulder. “You worry too much. Who cares what people think.”

“I don’t care. I just hate her fucking opinion. She always judges everything I do. Then once she starts drinking again she becomes the most irresponsible person on the planet, but expects me to be a saint? It’s so tiring.” 

Ran hummed and kissed your forehead. “Want me to make you feel better?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him before smiling. He tossed his phone on the opposite couch and flipped your positions, your back resting flat against the couch as he hovered over you. You erupted in a fit of giggles and laughter as he kissed his way down your stomach, making you squirm and squeal with excitement. The buzz of butterflies flew in your stomach as he kissed down your belly. Your shorts were short enough to show him the lace of your panties Mira helped you pick out during your shopping spree last week. You watched intently, bunching his long hair up and out of his face as his lips lingered close to your thighs. Your breath hitched as he stuck out his tongue, running it along the thin fabric, then licked a trail back up your body, to your face, kissing you deeply. 

Your mother watched from the staircase shaking her head in disappointment as she watched you fall for someone like him. She's had experience with guys like Ran, she knows what kind of monster they are deep down inside and knows exactly how they were. After all, she fucked around with a guy like that and got pregnant at 20. Your dad was a deadbeat, refusing to accept you as his own and left when you were four. Ever since that night, she's been drinking to cope with the loneliness, unable to function by herself after getting so attached to him. They'd be on and off for a couple years, and constantly get your hopes up that you'd be a happy family, but they just weren't meant to work out.

In all honesty, she would have loved for you to meet someone else, a nice guy who could give you a stable relationship, but that's impossible. In her eyes, Ran was bad news, he was all fun and games, but deep down he had no feelings for you other than lust. And once you fell for him, he would use you until he got bored and moved onto the next girl. She couldn't imagine why you would fall for him. But it was obvious how happy you are with him. So you can only hope that she was wrong. That maybe one day you will meet someone special, and not end up like her.

So she let out a heavy sigh, and went back upstairs. 

Present day.

It had been a week, and the phone Mikey gave you remained eerily silent, devoid of any notifications or messages. You spent the weekend at Shion’s house, keeping conversations to a minimum, only sharing faint smiles when he’d place his hand on your waist for a kiss. You weren’t in the mood, and you felt guilty for taking your sour mood on him, but the conversation with Dona and the plan Mikey and Sanzu formed had put a damper on your entire mood.

You hadn’t left Shion’s house either; instead, you laid on the bed, consumed by your thoughts about what you’d have to do with Mira. Your finger hovered over Mira’s contact for a few moments before you finally decided to get over yourself and text her.

You: MIRAA i missed you so much. Are you free anytime soon? 

You cringed at the text but sighed and hit send. Mira seemed likely to be busy, what with her engagement to the head of police, or chief of police? Frankly, you couldn’t be bothered to remember Naoto’s job title. While waiting for her response, you managed to clean both Shion’s bedroom and the living room. Boredom had driven you to it, there was nothing else for you to do anyway. 

Ran’s number remained blocked, even though you knew it wasn’t his fault that lackeys broke into Hiro’s house and beat him half to death like you thought initially. But at the end of the day, you still promised Hiro you’d stay away from Ran. It wasn’t as simple as it sounded, especially since the initial anger toward him had faded now that you knew the incident wasn’t planned, not even Mikey had been aware of it.

You were in the midst of wiping down the kitchen counters, earphones playing your favourite song in your eyes when your phone suddenly buzzed in your back pocket. The vibration startled you, and you hastily set the cleaning wipes aside. After drying your hands on the sides of your jeans, you grabbed your phone from your pocket.

Mira: HEY!!!!!!!!! ITS BEEN SO LONG I MISSED YOU SO MUCH :( SORRY BUT I’M BUSY ALL WEEK. I’M FREE THIS WEEKEND THOUGH. IS SATURDAY ALRIGHT?

You chewed the inside of your cheek, taking a moment to think. Next Saturday seems fine, but you feel by then it’ll have already been two weeks and you don’t want to wait too long before Mikey and Sanzu think you’re stalling. You brought out the burner phone in your dresser and unlocked it, pulling out Dona’s saved contact details and called her for advice.

You had a few questions on your mind to ask her. How long does it take to piss Mikey off, how many bodies does Sanzu have, how to quit this Bonten agreement with all your limbs and organs intact. It still angered you to even think about asking Dona, especially after the argument, but you had no other choice.

It seemed like the idea of talking to you pissed Dona off as well since she practically growled, “What the hell do you want?” the second she picked up the phone.

“Oh grow up, would you? This 8 year one sided grudge you have isn’t cute.”

“Did you think for a second that maybe it’s not a ‘one-sided grudge’ and I just genuinely don’t fucking like you?”

You rolled your eyes so far back in your head and settled down on the bed with a hefty sigh. “Cool. Anyway, are you free on Saturday?”

“...why?”

“Is it not fucking obvious why?” you snapped. There was a long silence on the other end before you groaned loudly. “Mira? The plan? The whole entire reason we’re even talking right now?”

“Oh. That. Can’t, sorry. I’m busy on Saturday.”

“Well that’s the only day Mira is available so clear up some damn room and cancel your plans.”

“I’ll think about it.” Dona said.

“‘Kay. Thank you D—” There was a beep and the disconnected sound blared in your eyes. “Bitch.” You tossed the burner back into the dresser with a thud and you quickly made sure you didn’t crack the screen. Inspection over, you grabbed your main phone and texted Mira saying you couldn’t wait to see her this weekend, smiling when she sent a string of emojis mixed with hearts and smiley faces before disappearing offline.

Your heart warmed knowing she hadn’t changed a single bit, always sending those same string of emojis whenever you both parted ways during texts. You left your phone on the bed, about to head back to the kitchen when your phone buzzed against the sheets. You picked up the phone, only to see there were no notifications. Confused, you looked around, remembering the burner phone and grabbed it. 

The phone only had 9 saved numbers: Mikey, Sanzu and Dona were the only ones that you knew of. You didn’t bother checking the rest. Pulling up the contacts, you saw the names of all the other executives: Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Takeomi, Mochizuki and Kakucho.

“Oh my god, Kaku,” you said to nobody but yourself. You were faintly acquainted with Kakucho, only saying hello and exchanging waves whenever you crossed paths, which wasn’t often either. You barely saw Ran’s friends back then except Rindou. 

You checked the recent messages on the burner. You couldn’t help but feel lightness in your chest when you saw the message was from Ran. 

Ran: so this is where you’ve been hiding

You smiled at the text, shifting onto your back on the bed and typed back a response. 

You: how did you find me

Ran: you forget who I work for?

You: oh. yeah makes sense

You: so what do you want

Ran: i miss you

You: u went 8 years without me. You’ll live

Ran: and I joined a criminal organisation, cut my hair short and dyed it pink and purple. What does that tell you

You: that I’m amazzzingggg

Ran: ik u are. 

Ran: come over tonight 

You: I can’t sorry. I made a promise that I can’t see u again

Ran: I would take that seriously if you didn’t make that same exact promise to ur mother ten years ago

Ran: and I still got u in my bed

You: …

You: fine. But I don’t want your drivers driving me around anymore. 

Ran: thought you would like the princess treatment 

You: no I don’t. You can help buy me a car tho?

Ran: ?

You: plsplsplsplspslspslssss

Ran: I’ll think about it

You: and I’ll see you tonight 

Ran: alright baby

“I’m back!” Shion called from the front door. 

You turned your phone off and entered the living room, approaching Shion from behind. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a bear hug. He stumbled forward from the impact, taking a second to catch his footing before peeking behind his arm at your face dug into his back. “Aw, you missed me.”

He turned around and you let go of his waist, his hands rising to hold your face and plaster a wet sticky kiss on your forehead. 

“Ew, gross,” you mumbled, a hint of a playful smile on your lips as you wiped your hand over the leftover spit. He grumbled for you to shut up and walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door to examine its contents. “I’m not gonna be home on Saturday,” you said as you followed behind him.

“Really? Why?”

“I’m hanging out with Mira. A little reunion thing, you know?”

“That’s cute.” He pulled out the milk and opened it, sniffing it, then grimaced and tossed it in the trash. “But who the hell is Mira?”

“You really don’t remember her? Me, her and Dona?”

Shion removed his head from the fridge and looked at you and shrugged. “Oh wait.” He took a moment and you crossed your arms, waiting. “Oh! Her! Didn’t she have a crush on me?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “She found you cute at first, then you got knocked out in a fight. Instant ick.”

His eyes narrowed. “That fight wasn’t fair and you know it. Nobody told Hanma to bring a goddamn bat.”

“Like you’d win if he didn’t have the bat—” You just about dodged the empty water bottle he tossed at you. You quickly grabbed it and threw it back in his direction. He swiftly swatted it away before it could hit him and you scoffed. “If only you could fight as good as you could dodg—”

“That’s it.” He picked you up by the legs and carried you over to the couch, ignoring your complaints which eventually turned into laughter when he set you onto the couch. He swatted away some cushions and pinned you against the surface. 

“You caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Yeah okay.” He laughed and dipped his head down towards yours. You parted your lips when his tongue slid past your teeth, hot against your own. You giggled, closing your eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Lemme borrow your car later,” you said in between kisses, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started nibbling at your neck.

“What?” he mumbled softly, breaking the kiss and looking down at you. “Fuck it’s been so long since I fucked you.”

“I said,'' you wound your arms around his neck. “Can you lemme borrow your car tonight?”

His eyes travelled down your body and his gaze lingered on the swell of your tits through your shirt for a moment before moving back up to your eyes when you purposefully moved your head to his eyeline. “Please?”

“Uh. What for?”

You shrugged and lolled your head back against the couch, your finger rising to wrap your finger around the silver chain dangling from his neck. “I just want to drive around. I’m bored. Please?”

“I mean sure…but—” You swiftly sat up and kissed his cheek as a distraction. His cheeks were flushed slightly and he bit down on his lower lip, a satisfied grin forming on his face when your lips slowly trailed from his cheeks to his lips, kissing him slowly and passionately, the way you know he likes it. 

You pulled away and brought his head down to your lips, whispering, “please?” into his ear. He groaned and kissed you one last time before thoroughly agreeing. “Thank you thank you thank you! Mwah.” You planted one more kiss on his lips before pushing him off of you and slipping off the couch.

~*~

“What exactly is this supposed to be?”

Ran shrugged, finished downing his drink and placed it back on the counter top before leaning forward to get a closer look at the little baggie you had in your hand. “Kokonoi gave it to me.”

“Yeah okay, but—” You let out a noise of doubt and put it back on the table. “I don’t trust it.”

“Since when were you a pussy?” 

You looked up at Ran and glared at the smug smile on his face. “I’m not a pussy Ran. I just don’t want to eat a random pill that you yourself said you don’t know what it's called!”

He rested his elbows on the marble countertop and his grin widened. “I took it earlier and I’m fine.”

“That’s because you barely have brain cells left to scramble.” You reached over the counter and ruffled his perfectly styled hair. “I’ll do it because I trust you.” You removed the pink pill from the baggie and held it up to your eyes, examining it cautiously. “If this kills me—”

“It won’t, you big baby. Eat it.”

You bit your lip and thought for a moment before looking back up at him. “Fine. Get me some water.”

“Just swallow it.”

You huffed, “I need some water to help. I can’t just swallow it.”

He looked at you, amused, and crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“Because! Ugh, shut up!” You put the pill back on the counter and stormed over to the cabinet, grabbing an empty glass, then to the tap to fill it with tap water. Ran laughed from his corner of the kitchen as he watched you stomp your way around his kitchen, like a storm. You turned to glare at him, his laugh only making you even more annoyed. “What the hell is so funny?”

“You,” he cackled again when your eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Your temper. It’s hilarious.”

“I don’t have a goddamn temper.”

“You explode at anything small. It’s cute.” He walked over towards you and booped your nose, the tip of his finger skirting down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face up to his eyeline. “You really haven’t changed a single bit. It’s reassuring.”

“Well, thanks.” You looked down at the glass of water with an uncertain look on your face. “This’ll get me high right?”

“Yeah.” You took a second for motivation and Ran moved to grab the pill off the counter. He returned in front of you, “Open your mouth.” He waited until your mouth was open before slotting the pill on the flat pink of your tongue. You brought the water up to your mouth and took a sip before digesting it. 

Thanks to the water, you couldn’t feel the full effects of the pill hitting you until a few hours later, you resting on top of Ran’s chest, drifting in and out of sleep. He had you locked tight around his arms, enjoying the warmth and weight of you atop of him. He felt you shuffle around, trying to get comfortable.  

“What car do you want?” Ran asked, looking down at your head resting against his chest. Your head was tucked under his chin, one arm wrapped around his waist as the other clutched onto his shirt. 

Your head felt heavy when you tried to lift it from his chest and squinted up at him. With the drugs running through your veins, everything looked brighter and crispier, colours seeming sharper than usual. It was hard to focus. “Ummm, what car?” you asked slowly.

Ran chuckled softly and leaned downwards, pressing his lips against your forehead. “The one you asked me to buy you.”

“Hm.” You sat up from his chest and straddled his lap. He slid his hands up your thighs to hold onto your hips. Your hands rested beside his head as you hazily looked down at him. “I wasn’t serious about that. You know?”

“Serious or not, I’ll buy it for you. Anything you want. Just tell me.”

“Really?” you smiled and bit your lip.

He shifted upwards, inching closer to your face, your nose brushing against his. “Anything you want.”

You couldn’t resist the close proximity anymore and dipped your head downwards, kissing him gently. You lifted one hand from the bed to rest on the side of his face. He pulled your hips closer, pressing you hard against his erection. The friction and the heat of his body against yours made you moan softly, which he eagerly swallowed up with each kiss. 

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your inner thigh and bit down on his lip before sucking it back into his mouth, relishing in the low groan he left out when you slowly pushed your hips back against his lap. Your hands gripped onto the pillow under him, digging your nails into the fabric as you latched your lips onto the skin of his neck, biting and sucking gently on the flesh. His hand skimmed past your thighs, along the curve of your ass and gripped it, squeezing whatever he could grab and groaned at the feeling of your soft lips against his skin, sucking softly.

You broke the kiss and licked down his neck. His skin tasted sweet and tangy, sending tingles throughout your entire body. 

Your world was flipped when he switched positions in the blink of an eye and hovered above you, gazing into your eyes with lust filled desire. You looped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, locking your lips together.You felt Ran’s hands slide across your leg and hitched it upwards to wrap around his waist, and you whimpered in response, your back arching as you let yourself loose around him.

“This okay?” he murmured softly against your lips as his hand slowly entered inside your jeans. You nodded vigorously and pulled him back down for a kiss, slipping your tongue desperately between his lips. The sheets got tangled beneath your bodies as you both kissed passionately. 

You pushed him onto his side, his hand lifting your thigh to rest over your leg. His fingers unzipped your jeans and helped you toss them off before lifting your thigh to rest over his leg, sliding his hand down to rest against your ass, his grip creating a heat wild enough within you and sending a jolt of electricity to your core.

With every inch of his body pressed against you, you couldn’t help but moan. “Fuck me please Ran. I need it.”

Ran hummed deeply against your lips and pushed you onto your back. He knelt between your legs and you giggled as he parted them open with his big hands. You reached downwards, his fingers teasing the waistband of his pants and you helped him push it down and off his hips. You grabbed his cock, the tip wet with pre and positioned it by your entrance. He braced his hands beside your head, his forehead touching yours as your pussy twitched when he moved closer to you, trailing kisses along your neck.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, closing your eyes shut when you felt his cock slowly enter you. “Fuck fuck fuck oh my god.” You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades and arched your back, feeling the head slide past your barrier, stretching you out.

“Almost there baby.” He kept thrusting slowly, taking his time and going further inside of you with each stroke. You cried out loud, louder than before, moaning constantly as he pushed himself deeper into you. “God, you’re so tight.” He groaned out your name and your body shivered at the raspiness of his voice.

“More,” you panted desperately, your eyes meeting his gaze for the first time since entering you. 

He snapped his hips forward, filling you completely and pulled all the way out, his cock wet with your juices before fucking back into you. The heat of his skin searing your walls as you sank your nails into his shoulders. His lips found yours again, soft and warm. Your fingertips flipped across his back and you felt his cock throb within you. Each thrust had you clenching around him, clutching him tight to your body as he fucked you with slow, methodical strokes.

You tossed your head back, panting and crying out, clutching onto his hair, the back of his shirt, anything you could possibly muster. 

“Arms up baby,” he ordered and sat back, his cock still warming your sides. His hands held onto your hips, digging into the soft flesh as you shrugged your shirt off, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra and toss it off the bed. It landed into a sorry puddle on the floor along with your shirt and Ran’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you looked back and saw Ran in the middle of shedding his shirt off. 

“I always loved this tattoo,” you giggled, running your arms along the pattern before bringing him back down to your level, arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down for another steamy kiss. 

You spread your legs wider apart and pressed down on his lower back to get him deeper inside you. His mouth travelled to your breasts where he started sucking on your nipples, biting down softly and nibbling on them. He slipped his hand beneath your body and grasped your clit, rubbing lightly in circles causing you to gasp loudly. You came apart in his arms, shattering into pieces and screaming his name in his ear. He pumped faster and harder, his hips slamming against yours as you tightened around his cock once more. His climax shot through him, thrusting every inch of his cum spilling inside of you. Every drop was heaven, you felt yourself tighten up once more and seconds later your orgasm arrived, intensifying everything. You dripped on his cock and held onto him so tight you swore there were permanent nail marks on the bone of his shoulder.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, breathing heavily. Your muscles relaxed slightly and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you to lay close against him. He kissed your neck softly, stroking your thighs with his hands. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Mmmm. I’m amazing,” you hummed in agreement, resting your head against his chest and nuzzling against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I really missed you Ran.”

His eyes traced your face and he saw the genuinity in your eyes. “Me too baby.” He smiled softly and his hands slid down your bare back and cupped your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Missed this too.”

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Anything you had to say melted away as you indulged in him, humming softly into his mouth before pulling away. 

~*~

The supermarket was busy and bustling as Mira walked through the aisles with her shopping cart. She had a whole list ready and was looking for the dairy aisle when she bumped into someone’s cart. “Sorry!” she apologised and gasped when she looked up and saw who it was. “Dona?”

Dona smiled at her and waved, putting her basket on the floor as Mira practically pounced on her, pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“I thought I’d never see you again! What the hell?!” Mira pulled away and rested her hands on Dona’s shoulders, practically buzzing with excitement. “You look so good!”

“Oh stop,” Dona pushed her hands off her shoulders. “You’re still so damn energetic, it’s crazy.” She put her hands in her pocket. “What’s up though. What’re you shopping for?”

“Oh this stupid party Naoto wants me to host for his cop buddies.” Mira sighed and walked back to her cart. “I love Naoto but fuck, those damn cops are so annoying.”

“Really?” Dona asked, grabbing her shopping list. “Wouldn’t expect nothing more from a buncha cops. I’m surprised you’re even with one to be honest. Thought you hated them.”

“I do!” Mira said, hiding her face behind her hands while laughing. “No but Naoto’s…different.”

Dona stared blankly at her. “Different…?”

“Yeah! He’s not like those backwards, misogynistic asshole cops. He’s so sweet and treats me like a queen and he’s so sweet! Oh my god! He does this cute thing in the mornings and brushes my hair out of my face and whispers “good morning beautiful” in my ear every morning. I pretend I’m asleep just so I can hear him say it and he kisses me goodbye before work and—”

“Okay I get it! Sheesh, rub in your relationship more in my face would you?” Dona sighed and picked up her basket, following next to Mira as she began walking with her trolley. 

“I can’t believe you’re still single! Guess he really broke your heart, huh?”

“Don’t even talk about him right now. Fuck Shuji. That fucking asshole.”

Mira laughed. “That was like what, ten years ago? You need to let that go.”

“I’m trying! Okay?! But my minds been occupied with…stuff.”

Mira stopped by the meat aisle and began searching for some chicken breast. “Stuff or someone?”

“Someone as in a boy?” Dona asked and Mira nodded, checking the back of the package before dumping it into the trolley. “No, I'm not seeing someone.”

“You should.”

“I’m good.”

“You used to be so boy crazy! What happened?”

Dona shrugged and looked down at the floor for a short moment, biting the soft tissue of her cheek. “I just grew up I guess. Anyway, this party thing. When is it?”

“Tomorrow night. I have to cook for a bunch of weirdo cops. Not looking forward to it.” Mira paused for a moment and then gasped. “You should come with me!”

Dona blinked at her. “What?”

“Yes! Oh my god please please please. I’ll need someone to keep me company.” She clung onto Dona’s arms as she begged. “I’m so sick of all the other cops' wives. They’re all judgemental and yucky and like three times my age. Definitely jealous of my youth.”

Dona laughed and Mira pouted, hoping it’ll be enough to convince her. With a final sigh, Dona finally gave in. “Fine. But only for two hours. I have work.”

“Really? What do you work as?”

“I uh…it’s complicated.”

“At least you have a job. I’m just known as Naoto’s wife and stay at home all day. Maybe I could come visit you on your free days?”

“It’s oof.” Dona thought about it for a moment. “I can take you to a club I work at whenever you’re free. Sometimes we gamble and stuff. You wanna join?”

“Gambling…? I thought that was illegal.”

“Never stopped us back in the day.” Dona winked, playing around and watched the conflict flicker all over her face. “It’ll be a little secret. You don’t have to tell Naoto anything.”

“Of course I won’t! I may be marrying a cop but I’m not a snitch. Especially on my best friend. I’m just worried about what Naoto would think about me going to a gambling club. He’d definitely lock the place up, haha.”

Dona rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to tell him anything. You’re allowed to have secrets.”

“Legal secrets, yeah.”

“Come onnnnnnnnn. Join me! It’ll be fun, I promise. I’ll even invite (Name) over.”

Mira’s face lit up even more. “Really?! She can come!?

“She fuckin’ better come.” 

“Oh my god the gang's back together!” Mira chirped and jumped before pulling Dona into a big hug. “I can’t wait! Lemme go text (Name) right now!”

“You go do that.” Dona checked her phone. “I gotta go anyway. My boss wants me to clock in now.” She pulled Mira in for another hug. “I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay.”

“Okay, bye bye!”

When Dona left the store, she quickly typed a message to you before entering her car and driving off.

~*~

“Are you busy tomorrow?” you asked hesitantly.

Ran laughed softly. “I’m working tomorrow. Probably be gone for most of the day.” He shifted onto his back and laced his arms behind his head. You propped yourself onto your side and frowned. “What’s wrong baby.”

You shrugged and looked downwards at the mattress, speaking in a quiet voice. “I dunno, I'm just lonely. And bored. I don’t really have anything to do lately.”

He ran his thumb down your cheekbone. “You wanna come with me?”

“Depends. Do I have to witness a murder?”

He grinned widely. “If everything goes well tomorrow night then there’ll be no murder.”

You snorted. “So there’s still a possibility, huh?”

“People die everyday,” he mused and you looked at him with a serious face, pursing your lips together and he sighed. “Fine. Fine. Even if things go to shit tomorrow I promise I won’t kill anybody. I’ll…think of other things.”

“Good enough for me.” You leaned in to kiss him again but stopped short when your phone buzzed. You groaned and reached behind you, fumbling for it on the dresser, bringing it up and reading the text from Mira and Dona. 

Mira: I RAN INTO DONA AT THE SUPERMARKET AND SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT TOMORROW!!!! ARE YOU FREE?

Dona: got mira to come to the club. Be there tomorrow at 7

“Oh fuck,” you muttered under your breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Ran leaned his head on your shoulder and read the text message. 

“Guess I won’t be following you to work tomorrow then,” you said, turning your phone off. You looked over at the heavyweight on your shoulder and rested your head against his. “I’m seeing Mira tomorrow. So I guess you know what that means?”

“Is this about that stupid plan you made with Sanzu?” He asked, pulling away from your head, reaching inside his drawer for a cigarette. You nodded and watched him light the end and shifted back on the bed, bringing the covers over your naked body to cover you. 

“You know about that plan?”

“Little bit.” He lit the cigarette and tossed the lighter back into the drawer. “If it’s not affecting me or any of my business, I don’t care enough to ask more.”

“It’s not affecting you? This Naoto dude?” you asked, trying to get a bigger picture.

“I mean he is, but I’m careful. He’s not catching me anytime soon.”

“Still cocky as ever huh,” you said and he grinned widely around his cigarette. “Anyway I hate the plan a lot. But it's for Hiro's benefit and I’m willing to do anything for him. Even if it means fucking up Mira’s marriage and her fiance’s career forever.”

Ran could feel like there was something up with you and eyed you for a moment. To anyone it was clear the plan was bugging you and as much as you tried acting cool about it, he could tell the guilt was slowly eating you inside. He exhaled cigarette smoke out before putting it on the ashtray beside his bed, shifting back against the bedframe and opened his arms for you to fit in. “C’mere.”

You looked at him and his open arms and shifted forward, crawling the distance between you both and rested between his arms. He enclosed them around you, the side of his face resting against your forehead.

“Do you need some advice from me or want me to shut up and stay silent?” he asked for a moment.

You let out a silent laugh and nodded. “Advice please.”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and began speaking. “Sometimes in life you gotta do bad shit. Even if you don’t wanna.” He finished talking and you waited a couple seconds for him to continue. 

You were confused when he unwrapped his arms around you and slid off the bed, putting his boxers back on and stretching. 

“What the hell? Is that it Ran?”

“Yeah.” He walked over to his closet and began rummaging for tomorrow’s outfit.

“What kind of advice was that?!” You groaned, stopping your eyes from rolling back. “Sometimes I forget how useless you are.”

“Temper baby,” he responded back, flicking through the range of suits and blazers hung in his closet. You took a moment to admire his closet, impressed with his collection of suits, ranging in different colours and couldn’t help but imagine anybody but Ran pulling it off.

He found an old dress hung up and tossed it in your direction. “Try this shit on for me.” 

The dress landed on your face and you grimaced and pulled it off. Holding it up in the air, you examined it, front to back. “Why the hell do you even have a dress? It’s so small it can’t even fit me!”

“Some girl must’ve left it over,” he said casually, picking out a purple form fitting suit from the hanger and left it on the edge of his bed. All forms of amusement on your face slowly melted at the mention of another girl and you deadpanned in his direction, but he missed it as he began changing back into his clothes. “Does it fit you?” he asked, fitting his shirt over his head.

“Don’t tell me you expect me to wear this? I’m not wearing some recycled dress.”

“You want me to buy you a new dress?” he asked, looking at you.

“Duh.”

He knelt down on the edge of the bed and grabbed the dress, tossing it towards the end of the bed. Your complaint was cut short when he grabbed your ankle and tugged, successfully tipping your back onto the mattress as he inched forwards, climbing over you. His hands laced between yours and you looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“I wonder what it’ll take to get rid of this attitude of yours, hm.” You tried to struggle out of his grip but your attempts were pointless. 

“I don’t have an attitude.”

“Yeah you do. Now ask nicely and I’ll get you what you want.”

You bit down on your tongue and swallowed your pride before lowering your voice to a whisper. “Can you buy me a dress?”

“Can’t hear youuu,” he leaned his ear down lower to your mouth to hear better. “Use your words.”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again.”

He pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Baby steps. But fine. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow. I’m busy.”

“When are you free then?”

“Any day that’s not tomorrow.” You stood up from the bed. “But I’ll probably have to see you tomorrow if you’re going to be at the club Dona sent me.”

“Maybe.” He pulled you closer for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his midsection and you dug your face in his chest, enjoying how big and warm he was. 

“Can I stay over tonight?” you asked after a moment, looking up at him. 

“You’re gonna be home alone though. I’m not coming back till late.”

“How late?” He pulled his arms away from you. “Dunno. Maybe three? Four?”

“Jesus what the hell do you do all day?”

“Don’t worry.” He booped your nose and you scrunched it in response. “Get some sleep okay? I can see your damn eye bags.”

“Fine. Goodnight and thanks for letting me stay.” You got into bed, grabbing the big warm sheets and covering your whole body. 

“Anytime baby.”

masterlist

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[jjmaybankswh0re]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 ~ 𝐎𝐁𝐗 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂

Blurb ~ Kalani "Lani" Alora is a 16-year-old Kook born into wealth and expectations, but she's nothing like her perfect family. While her parents push her to fit into their polished world, Lani feels suffocated by the luxury and pressure. Her heart belongs with the Pogues, the real ones who know what it means to survive without trust funds. In a world of opulence and privilege, Lani is ready to break free, even if it means defying her family—and risking everything she’s ever known. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise? Not for everyone. ~

Character description: Kalani "Lani" Alora is a fiery 16-year-old with long brunette hair that falls in waves, framing her sun-kissed face. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief, while freckles dust her tan skin, a reminder of the time spent under the sun. With a button nose and plump lips, her features carry a natural, effortless beauty that contrasts with the polished world she’s expected to fit into. She’s bold, rebellious, and unapologetically herself—someone who doesn’t shy away from breaking the rules or challenging the expectations placed on her.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reckless behaviour, mature themes, emotional strain.

Master list

PART 1:

Word count: 11,165

They say the Outer Banks is paradise on Earth. Sure, maybe if you’re a tourist sipping Mai Tais on the beach or some Kook lounging in your second home, pretending life’s just one big country club. But for me, the so-called “paradise” feels like a gilded cage, all shiny on the outside but suffocating once you’re stuck inside. My name’s Kalani Mae Alora, but everyone calls me Lani. I’m 16, wild, reckless, and everything my family wishes I wasn’t.

I’m a Kook by birth. Figure 8 born and bred, raised in a mansion bigger than most people’s dreams, with parents who have more money than love to give. My dad, Douglas Ford Alora, is a big-shot real estate mogul. My mom, Amara Rose Alora, is the state’s top lawyer—because of course she is. And then there’s my older brother, Riley. The golden boy. The pride and joy. He’s everything they want: polished, preppy, and a grade-A asshole. The kind of guy who thrives in the Kook world, where your worth is measured by your wealth and your yacht size.

And then there’s me—the family disappointment. The rebel. The one who refuses to fit into their picture-perfect world. They want me to be a polished pearl, but I’m more like a jagged seashell—rough, untamed, real.

The truth is, I’m not cut out for their world. I don’t belong at their stuffy country club parties or in their suffocating circle of self-congratulatory egos. Honestly, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon than spend one more minute with the Kooks. They’re all the same—entitled, fake, and so damn boring.

My heart? It belongs on the Cut, with the Pogues. My friends. My real family. The ones who know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, who don’t have trust funds to fall back on but have loyalty in spades. We’re the scrappy, sunburned kids from the south side of the island, where people work their asses off fishing, chartering boats, and doing whatever it takes to survive. They don’t judge me for being a little reckless or having tattoos hidden under my hoodie. They get me. Even Kie, who’s technically a Kook like me, would rather be with us than in the shallow waters of her old world.

But my parents don’t get it. They don’t get me. To them, I’m just a problem to be fixed. I skip school because sitting in a classroom feels like being locked in a cage when there’s an entire world waiting outside. I party because life’s too short to sit still. I drink and smoke and stay out for days because it feels like the only way to breathe.

My mom and dad don’t see the good grades I somehow manage to pull off, or the way my friends count on me when things go south. No, they only see the tattoos I’ve hidden from them (for now), the nights I don’t come home, and the way I refuse to bow to their rules. They threaten me all the time—boarding school, getting kicked out, even one of those wilderness camps for “troubled teens.” But their threats are empty, just like their understanding of who I am.

Coming home always ends the same way: screaming matches that leave the walls trembling and me storming back out, slamming the door behind me. And you know what? I’d rather be anywhere but here. On the beach. In the water. With my friends. Living.

It’s a cycle. A vicious, messy, exhausting cycle. And yet, I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Because out there, with the Pogues, I’m free. Out there, I’m not Kalani Alora, the letdown daughter of the island’s most powerful family. I’m just Lani. Wild, reckless, and alive.

Tonight is the night of the annual Kook party, Midsummers. AKA the one thing I dread most. I stand in the kitchen, my arms crossed, fuming, while my mom stares me down from across the island.

"Kalani, I’m not telling you again. You are going. End of story," she says, her voice dripping with that tone that means she’s done arguing. The same tone she always uses when she’s acting like she’s the one who knows what’s best for me.

I roll my eyes so hard I’m pretty sure they might fall out. "Mom, people less than 3 miles from here still don’t have power, no running water, nothing. And we're going to Midsummers? Do you not see how tone-deaf that is?" I can’t believe this is even a conversation. Hurricane Agatha tore through the island last week, and Figure 8, of course, had its water fixed within hours, not like the Cut where they’ve been waiting for days. The Kooks are all living in luxury, while the Pogues are stuck in a wreck. And all mom cares about is this stupid party.

She narrows her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Seriously, Kali? I suggest you put on a party face if you want to live." Oh, great. "The dress I picked out for you is upstairs, go shower."

I let out a deep sigh, muttering under my breath as I storm off toward my room. This night is going to suck.

When I walk in, the dress is laid out on my bed like it’s some sort of treasure. It’s pale golden yellow, the fabric shiny but not too in-your-face. The top has a ruched sweetheart neckline—whatever, nothing special. The waist is tight, and then the skirt flows down to the floor with a slit on one side, which is probably the only thing that even slightly grabs my attention. It’s nice enough, but honestly, it’s just another dress to me. A dress I’ll wear because I have no choice, and I'll pretend it’s okay when it’s not.

It’s pretty though. Like, really pretty. But there’s no way I’ll admit that to my mom. At the foot of the bed, there are a pair of white heels—square-toe with an ankle strap. I pick them up, inspecting them like they're somehow supposed to impress me, then set them back down. But then my eyes catch the flower crown resting next to the dress. It’s made of tiny white and yellow flowers, tied together on a brown vine, with a soft white ribbon in the back. It’s cute, I guess. Kind of summery and soft, but definitely not my style. I was expecting something much more “Kook-y,” but this isn’t terrible. I have to admit, it’s kind of nice.

I don’t even know why I’m surprised. My mom is obsessed with making me into some perfect little Kook, and I don’t fit in. I just don’t.

I head into my bathroom, which, let’s face it, is way too fancy for someone like me. It’s huge. So huge, I swear they built it just to make sure I’d never want to leave. It’s "coastal," of course, but not the cool, laid-back vibe I’m used to. No, this is more like a showroom, with white wood, light blues, and grays plastered everywhere like they want to remind me that we have money. The shower’s big enough to fit a small army. Don’t even get me started on the freestanding tub by the window. Like, who actually needs this much space to get ready in the morning? It’s a joke.

I strip off my clothes, looking at myself in the mirror. Staring at the tattoos that my parents can’t stand, but I love. I’ve got a few of them—one on my left wrist, my elbow, under my boob, my hip. I’ve even got one behind my ear and on my lower back. They’re all small, except for the one on my elbow, the one with the words my granny used to say all the time: “Live with fire.” I got it in honour of her last year. She’s gone now, and this tattoo is the only reminder I have of her.

At 16, I’m pretty sure the last thing my parents expected was for me to have 6 tattoos. They only know about the one for granny. They freaked out at first, but after a while, they gave up trying to control me. I know they haven’t seen the others, and I’m not in a rush to show them either. But that'll be a fight for later.

I’ve spent the last week on the HMS Pogue—surfing, chilling with my friends, hanging out at the beach. The tan from my bikini’s a perfect match for the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight.

The warm water in the shower is a welcome relief as I step in, letting it soak through my hair. The overpriced shampoo my mom insists I use smells like coconut and vanilla. It fills the bathroom with this sweet, sickly scent as I work it into my scalp. I rinse it out, then do it again, scrubbing harder this time, just wanting to wash away everything that’s bothering me about tonight.

I just wish I didn’t have to play their game.

Once the shampoo was fully rinsed out of my hair, I grabbed the conditioner. It's that same overpriced stuff my mom buys, and it still smells like coconut and vanilla—sickly sweet and way too luxurious for someone like me. I rake it through the middle and ends of my hair, working it into each strand, making sure every last one gets coated. I don't want any frizzy, tangled mess when I step out of this shower. My hair’s long and thick, so I clip it up with a claw clip, securing it out of the way while I let the conditioner soak in, doing whatever magic it's supposed to do.

I stand under the hot water, letting it cascade down, feeling the weight of it on my shoulders, drowning out everything for a minute. It’s easy to get lost in this. To just be here, in this bathroom that feels like it belongs to someone else.

Next, I move on to my body. I grab the Tree Hut shea sugar scrub. It's the plain one, nothing special, but it smells warm, comforting, like something I could wrap myself in. I scrub it all over my skin, from my shoulders down to my toes. My skin feels soft and smooth, and the scent is almost like a second layer of me, like a little bit of peace before the chaos of tonight. I rinse it off, feeling the roughness of the sugar scrub melt away with the water.

Then comes shaving—legs, my downstairs area, and my armpits. It’s something I do on autopilot, but I can’t help but think about the things I’d rather be doing. The water’s starting to cool a little, but I don’t care. The routine is almost soothing, even though my mind’s a thousand miles away.

Once I’m done with that, I grab the silicone body scrubber, a little worn but still good for scrubbing away the day. I use my body wash—the one that smells like fresh linen, like the kind of clean that’s almost too perfect. It’s like running through freshly washed sheets on a hot summer day. That clean, crisp, airy scent fills the shower as I lather myself up, and for just a moment, everything feels quiet. Not perfect, but quiet. Something I can hold onto, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

I stand there, letting the warmth of the water relax my muscles, but I know the storm’s waiting for me once I step out. The party. The dress. The Kooks. It’s all just another part of this world I’m stuck in.

Once I was done with my body, I carefully unclipped my hair from the claw clip, letting it fall around my shoulders, feeling the conditioner slowly slip from the strands as I washed it out. The water running through it felt like silk, the smoothness of my hair almost surprising me after the mess I had to deal with earlier. I stood there, running my fingers through it, making sure every bit of the thick conditioner was gone, until my hair felt soft and weightless, almost like it was floating. I ran my hands over the ends, making sure nothing was left behind, and it felt so good to have my hair feel that smooth again, free from all the tangles and the heat of the day.

After a few more moments under the water, I made sure I was completely rinsed off—no soap residue, no conditioner, nothing left behind but fresh, clean skin. I turned off the shower, stepping out into the steamy bathroom. The cold air hit me, making me shiver slightly, but the big white fluffy towel I grabbed was comforting as I wrapped it around my body, hugging myself into the softness. I reached for another towel to wrap my hair in, twisting it tightly to soak up the water.

I walked over to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. My reflection was a mix of wet hair, slightly flushed skin, and the remnants of the tiredness that was starting to show on my face. I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezing a bit of toothpaste onto it, the minty scent hitting my nose as I started to brush. I scrubbed my teeth in slow circles, letting the minty taste fill my mouth as I stared at myself in the mirror. My thoughts wandered, flickering between tonight’s party and the mess of everything that came with it.

Once I finished brushing, I set the toothbrush down and moved on to my skincare. I grabbed the exfoliator first, the gentle beads scraping at the dead skin on my face. I massaged it in small circles, focusing on my cheeks and jawline, feeling the grit of it, the way it sloughed off all the build-up. It always felt good, almost like I was erasing the day from my skin. After rinsing it off, I grabbed the facial wash, the coolness of the gel soothing my skin. I lathered it up, pressing it into my face and working it into a light foam, careful around my eyes. It smelled fresh and clean—nothing overwhelming, just pure. I rinsed that off too, splashing my face with water until it felt like it was completely cleansed, refreshed.

As I wiped my face with a towel, I felt the tension in my shoulders slowly start to release. But I knew it wouldn’t last. The second I walked out of this bathroom, the whole night was going to hit me again. The dress, the heels, the Kooks. I wasn’t ready for any of it. But for now, I was clean, and that felt like a tiny victory in itself.

I walked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, my bare feet sinking into the plush rug as I headed for my vanity. The towel around my body was pulled snug, a comforting layer of warmth against the cool air from the AC. I pulled the towel off my head, letting my damp brunette hair fall in messy waves over my shoulders, droplets of water soaking into the towel still wrapped around me.

Reaching for my phone, I connected it to my Bluetooth speaker and shuffled my "Getting Ready" playlist. The opening notes of "Chanel" by Frank Ocean filled the room, the smooth melody wrapping around me as I started the process of transforming myself for the night. I set my phone down and grabbed my blow dryer, sectioning my hair and working through it methodically. The warm air flowed through the strands, turning them from wet to soft and fluffy. I ran my fingers through each section as I worked, making sure nothing was left damp.

As much as I hated the idea of Midsummers, there was something satisfying about this part—the routine of getting ready, the self-care, the rare moments of just focusing on myself. For a little while, I could forget the chaos of the world outside and pretend that tonight wouldn’t feel as fake as every other Kook event.

Once my hair was completely dry, I set down the dryer and took a moment to assess it in the mirror. My natural brunette colour had these little golden streaks from all the time I’d spent in the sun, and I knew they’d look even better once I added some waves. I decided to go with something a little softer tonight—nothing too overdone because, honestly, I just wanted to feel like myself. I started by curling my hair into loose waves, letting the brunette strands fall in soft, effortless cascades down my back. It’s that kind of messy-but-pretty look, like I spent hours on it when I really didn’t.

For the top, I pulled back a section of hair into a half-up, half-down style, securing it with a clear elastic so it looked neat but still natural. To add a little something extra, I braided a small strand of hair on one side and tucked it into the pulled-back section. It’s subtle but gives it just the right amount of detail.

The rest of my hair flows freely, the curls catching the light every time I move. It’s simple but sweet, and it feels like me—a little undone but still put together enough to face the ridiculousness that is tonight.

I walked over to my bed where the dress was still laid out, golden and glowing softly in the warm light of my room. I carefully picked it up, the fabric slipping through my fingers like water. Stepping into it, I pulled it up and adjusted the straps on my shoulders before reaching for the zipper at the back. It slid up easily, the dress fitting perfectly, hugging my waist and flaring out gracefully down to the floor.

The slit on the side was higher than I expected, revealing a hint of my tan leg as I moved, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I turned to look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting the sweetheart neckline so it sat just right. The pale-yellow colour looked good against my sun-kissed skin, even though I’d never tell my mom she was right about that.

I tied the flower crown into my hair, the soft white and yellow blooms sitting perfectly on top of my styled waves. Taking a step back, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked... nice. Not like the Kook princess my mom probably wanted me to be, but not like I’d just rolled off the HMS Pogue either. It was a weird mix of both worlds, and maybe that’s exactly where I was meant to be.

I fastened the flower crown into my hair with a few small bobby pins, carefully adjusting it until it sat just right. The tiny white and yellow flowers felt soft and delicate against my curls, like the one part of tonight’s outfit that was actually me. I took a step back to look in the mirror, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. It was pretty, I had to admit, but that didn’t make the whole Midsummers thing any less of a circus.

With a sigh, I sat back down at my vanity, staring at my makeup bag like it might magically do the work for me. I don’t wear full-coverage makeup—ever. Foundation feels like a mask, like one more thing to hide behind in this world where everyone already pretends to be something they’re not. Tonight wasn’t going to change that.

I started with concealer, dotting it lightly under my eyes, just enough to brighten things up and erase the shadows of too many sleepless nights spent thinking about everything I can’t control. My beauty blender bounced softly against my skin, blending the concealer until it melted into nothing. No one needs to know I’ve barely been sleeping; that’s between me and my reflection.

Next was blush—a cream one that I dabbed onto the apples of my cheeks. It was this warm, pinky-orange shade, almost like the colors of a sunset. I blended it out until it looked natural, just a soft flush that played off the tan I’d earned from a week spent on the HMS Pogue, under the sun with my real family. The blush wasn’t just makeup; it was a reminder of who I was, of where I belonged.

I picked up my eyelash curler and paused for a second, staring at it in my hand. It’s funny how something so small can make such a difference, but it does. I carefully curled my lashes, making sure not to pinch my skin. A few quick swipes of mascara later, and my lashes were dark and lifted, but not overdone. I hate when makeup feels heavy, like it’s weighing you down. I wanted to feel free tonight, even if everything else about Midsummers felt suffocating.

Finally, I finished with a pink lip gloss. It was glossy and soft, not too bright, not too bold—just enough to make my lips look like they’d caught the last rays of the golden hour. I pressed my lips together, catching the faint scent of vanilla as I did. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

I leaned back in my chair, studying my reflection in the mirror. My makeup was simple, natural—exactly how I like it. Light enough that I still felt like me but polished enough to survive the sharp gazes and fake smiles of the Kooks. If I had to play this role tonight, at least I’d do it on my own terms.

And that’s the thing: this whole routine, this whole night, it’s a balancing act. A way of making my mom and dad happy without completely losing myself in the process. It’s exhausting, but I can fake it for one night. After all, I’m good at pretending when I have to be.

I stood up from my vanity chair, letting my bare feet sink into the soft carpet as I walked over to the shelf where my perfumes were lined up, a little too perfectly. Each bottle had its own memory, its own story—birthday surprises, Christmas mornings, or those rare moments when someone got me exactly what I liked without me having to say it. My fingers hovered over the collection before landing on the one I always reach for: Good Girl Blush Elixir by Carolina Herrera.

This perfume is my signature, the one I can’t live without. It smells like everything I want to be—soft but bold, with a mix of rose, vanilla, and patchouli that feels feminine but not too sweet. It’s the kind of scent that lingers, the kind that turns heads. I uncapped it, giving the nozzle a little test spray into the air before aiming it at all the right spots: my wrists, the front and back of my neck, behind my ears. I even gave myself a couple of extra sprays, letting the mist settle onto my skin like a finishing touch. It was intoxicating, warm, and comforting all at once.

Once I was done, I grabbed the white purse sitting on the edge of my bed. It was simple, but it worked—a little clutch just big enough to hold the essentials. I tossed in the bottle of perfume, some deodorant (because these things always drag on), gum, my phone, and my lip gloss. I zipped it up and slung it over my shoulder, pausing for a moment to take it all in.

I walked over to the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of my room, its frame carved with delicate floral details that matched the rest of my overly curated, "perfect" Kook bedroom. I looked at my reflection, taking in the golden dress that clung to me in all the right places, the flower crown perched like a soft rebellion against the polish of the whole look, and the subtle glow of my makeup.

For a second, I almost didn’t recognize myself. Not because I looked so different, but because I looked like I belonged—like I could fit into this world of Midsummers and champagne toasts and whispered gossip. But deep down, I knew better. I wasn’t one of them. This was a costume, a role I had to play.

I smoothed the skirt of my dress, took a deep breath, and tried to push down the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. "Alright, Kalani," I muttered to myself, my voice steady but low. "Let’s get this over with."

I stepped into the white heels that had been waiting at the foot of my bed, the straps cool against my skin as I fastened the tiny buckle around my ankle. They weren’t anything too fancy—square-toed with a simple design—but they did their job, adding just enough height to make me feel a little more elegant, even if I hated how much it screamed Kook princess.

I took a few steps in them, testing the waters. They were surprisingly comfortable, but still, they reminded me of all the reasons I hated these events. It’s like every detail—down to these stupid heels—was designed to show off, to shout, “Look at us! We’re perfect!” I wasn’t about to trip or wobble, though. If I had to play along, I’d do it on my own terms, confident and unbothered.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror again, I glanced down at my reflection. The heels gave the golden dress an extra edge, the slit in the skirt showing just enough leg to make it look effortless—like I hadn’t spent the last hour pulling myself together. The flower crown softened the look, a subtle reminder to myself of where my heart really was.

I shifted my weight, the faint sound of the heels clicking against the hardwood floor as I turned to grab my purse. They felt like armour in a way, a final piece to complete the picture my mom wanted so desperately to paint tonight. But as far as I was concerned, the moment this party was over, these heels were coming off, and I’d be back where I belonged: barefoot on the HMS Pogue, salt in my hair, with people who didn’t care if I looked polished or perfect.

“Kalani, come down! We’re taking a family photo!” My mom’s voice rang out from downstairs, sharp and insistent. I groaned, loud enough that she probably heard it, stealing one last glance in the mirror. The dress shimmered faintly under the soft light, and the flower crown sat perfectly in place. It was fine—whatever. Good enough.

Turning away, I walked out of my room and into the hallway. The heels clicked against the hardwood floor with every step, a sound that echoed louder than I wanted it to. It felt weird, almost unnatural, like I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t, clacking my way down this house that still didn’t feel like home.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I spotted her—my mom—standing at the bottom, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a line that said she was in no mood to argue tonight. Her eyes locked on me immediately, scanning me like a hawk. It wasn’t a look of admiration or even casual approval; it was inspection. Like she was checking for flaws, making sure her carefully curated daughter looked the part, up to her unspoken standards of perfection.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, gripping the banister as I descended. The closer I got, the more I could feel her gaze, like a spotlight I didn’t ask for. I hated this—hated how I felt like some kind of doll she could dress up and parade around to make herself look good. But I bit my tongue, let the heels carry me down each step until I was standing in front of her.

She gave a small, tight-lipped nod. “You look... nice,” she said, her voice clipped, like she couldn’t bear to admit that I might actually look good.

“Thanks,” I said, my tone flat, the sarcasm barely masked. I adjusted the strap of my purse, already counting down the hours until this whole ordeal would be over.

My mom was standing there, dressed to the nines in an elegant royal blue gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the kind of dress that screamed wealth and status. It shimmered slightly in the light, and as I got closer, I noticed the intricate beading and embroidery running along the fabric, small, delicate details that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. She had on a matching set of jewellery—a diamond necklace that caught the light every time she moved, earrings to match, and, of course, her giant wedding ring that could blind someone if the sun hit it just right.

I stopped midway down the stairs, my eyes locking onto her accessories, and then it hit me. Jewellery. I completely forgot about jewellery. My face must’ve said it all because my mom’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she knew I was about to stall.

“Oh—uhm, hold on. I forgot to put on my jewellery,” I blurted, my voice slightly panicked as I spun on my heel and started heading back up the stairs. My heels clicked against the steps in a rush, the sound echoing through the massive hallway.

“Kalani,” my mom called after me, her tone sharp with a mix of annoyance and warning, but I didn’t stop.

“It’ll only take a second!” I called over my shoulder, practically sprinting back into my room. How could I forget something so obvious? I mean, sure, I wasn’t thrilled about this whole charade, but if I was going to be forced into the Kook spotlight, I might as well do it right. There’s no way my mom would let me live it down if I showed up looking “unfinished.”

I darted over to my jewellery box, a sleek, mirrored thing that sat on my dresser. I flung it open, the tiny compartments stacked with earrings, bracelets, and necklaces.

I grabbed the gold necklace with the small sun pendant, one of the few pieces of jewelry that actually felt personal. The sun pendant had a tiny white opal in the middle, catching the light in this soft, shimmery way. It wasn’t flashy, but it was beautiful, understated—exactly what I needed. I clasped it around my neck, letting the pendant rest perfectly against my collarbone.

Next were my earrings. I had three piercings in each ear, and I quickly popped in the gold hoops for the first two. The first hoop had a small dangling diamond that sparkled whenever it moved, and the second had tiny diamonds encrusted all the way around. For the third piercing, I put in simple diamond studs—small but bright, like little drops of light against my skin.

For my rings, I went with a mix of delicate gold bands. Nothing too overwhelming, just a few spread out across my fingers in that perfectly imperfect way—skipping some fingers and stacking others just enough to keep it interesting. They were simple and elegant, adding a little extra something to my look without feeling over the top.

Finally, I moved on to bracelets. On one wrist, I clasped a gold tennis bracelet—thin, sleek, and timeless. On the other, I layered two dainty gold bracelets. One had a tiny charm on it, barely noticeable, and the other was just a smooth, minimalist band. Together, they felt balanced, subtle, and, dare I say, classy.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, adjusting the necklace so the pendant sat perfectly in place. My jewelry wasn’t overdone, and it definitely wasn’t “Kook extravagant,” but it felt polished and put together. This was my version of ready.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my purse off the bed again and turned toward the door. My heels clicked softly as I made my way back out of my room, this time fully prepared to face my mom’s critical gaze and the chaos waiting downstairs.

I walked down the stairs, and as soon as I stepped off the last step, I was met with the familiar impatient expressions of my mom, dad, and Riley. They all looked like they were ready to pull their hair out waiting for me to get my act together. I felt that familiar pressure in my chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered, and honestly, I was. I never liked rushing, especially when I felt like I was being pushed into a version of myself that didn’t feel like me at all.

“Come on, Kalani, we need to get the family photo. The photographer’s waiting for us outside,” my dad said in that authoritative way he always had, ushering me down the stairs with a firm hand on my back.

My heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floors as I made my way down, the sound a little too sharp and hollow for my liking. The click-clack followed me all the way through the grand hallway and out the door. The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside into our huge backyard, which stretched out toward the ocean. It was a view I’d never get used to, but it always felt like a reminder of how different I was from my family.

The backyard was decorated with hanging string lights that twinkled against the dark sky. The soft glow looked almost too perfect, too curated—like everything in this house. It was the kind of backyard where everything had a place, where even the air felt like it was designed for Instagram photos. The photographer stood nearby, ready to capture every perfect moment, and I could already feel the forced smiles taking over.

The photographer directed us into position, telling us where to stand, how to angle ourselves, and where to place our hands. The flashes of the camera went off in rapid succession, and I couldn’t help but feel like this whole thing was just a performance. The whole family photo, the posed smiles, the way they insisted on making everything look so… perfect.

My dad and brother were in suits—my dad in a dark, sleek black one that screamed "power," and Riley in a more relaxed, but still tailored, light gray one. It was hard not to feel like I was the odd one out in this perfect little picture they had created. My dress, my jewelry, my smile—none of it felt like me. And yet, here I was, standing perfectly still, forced into a moment I knew didn’t represent who I was or what I stood for.

The photographer snapped more photos. One of the whole family, then a few of just me and Riley, some with just my mom and dad. But in all of them, I knew one thing for sure—none of us were really here. Not really.

An hour later, we arrived at the Midsummer party, and I immediately felt the familiar weight of it all. The party was a spectacle of excess—a perfect embodiment of the Kooks’ obsession with showing off how much money they had. It was set on the sprawling waterfront grounds of the country club, where the place practically glittered under a canopy of fairy lights strung through towering oak trees. The lights were warm and inviting, almost magical, but all I could think about was how they reflected off the polished marble floors of the patio, making the place feel like a showroom, not a home.

Elegant tables were scattered across the lawn, their white linen cloths perfectly draped, with cascading floral centerpieces that practically screamed luxury. Servers, dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms, glided between the guests like they were part of the décor, offering champagne and perfectly arranged hors d'oeuvres. The laughter was polite, the kind that was almost too rehearsed, and the soft clink of crystal glasses mixed with the live band playing in the background, their music flowing like the tide against the nearby docks.

I could already feel the weight of this night pressing down on me. As we walked in, I couldn’t help but notice the Cameron family near the entrance—just a second away from my family’s wealth and, I swear, their closest competition in this weird little game of “who’s richer and more glamorous.” Ward Cameron, Rose Cameron, and their kids, Wheezie, Sarah, and Rafe.

Wheezie was just 13, but she already had that look—the one that said she was going to be just like her older sister, Sarah. Sarah and I were the same age, but we were never on the same page. I used to get along with her, back when I thought being friends with her would help me fit in. But that was before the whole Kook/Pogue divide hit me like a ton of bricks.

The air between me and Sarah was thick with tension. Kie and Sarah used to be best friends—used to, being the key word. That’s when I thought I could be part of their world, too. But things fell apart, like everything with the Kooks always does. And now here I was, walking into another perfect little moment, watching them pretend everything was fine, knowing full well it never would be.

I looked over at Riley, who was already making his way toward Rafe Cameron with his usual “I’m one of you” swagger. I wished I could be that detached, that easygoing about this whole thing. But instead, I felt like I was slipping into a role I never wanted—like I was just another cog in their polished machine.

As we made our way deeper into the crowd, I tried to keep my distance, but it didn’t take long for the inevitable interactions to begin. Topper was the first to spot me, his signature smirk already plastered on his face as he leaned against a nearby pillar.

"Kalani," he said, the way he said my name made it sound almost like a joke. "Nice to see you actually made it." His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering just a little too long on the soft flow of my dress before settling on my face. He was always like that, like he could never fully decide if I was beneath him or if he should pretend I was someone he liked.

“Topper,” I said, forcing a smile, trying to keep my tone neutral. "What's up?" I wasn’t in the mood for his usual small talk, but he was the kind of guy who just had to fill the silence with something.

He chuckled, taking a sip from a glass in his hand—was it whiskey? I couldn't tell. But whatever it was, it was making him that much smugger. "I don’t know why you bother with these Kook parties," he said, taking another long drink. “You know you don’t belong here, right?”

My chest tightened, but I kept my posture straight, pretending it didn’t affect me. "And yet, here I am."

Topper raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my lack of a reaction. "Hmm. I’ll give you that." Then, without another word, he walked off, probably to find someone else to annoy or charm.

I let out a deep breath and tried to move past the awkwardness, but of course, Kelce was there to fill the silence. He clapped me on the shoulder like we were best friends, even though we definitely weren’t. "Looking good, Kalani," he said, a little too enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Kelce," I muttered, trying to dodge his gaze, but he wasn’t done.

"You know, I bet you’re more fun when you’re not being all... Kook-y," he said with a grin, clearly trying to joke but coming off a little too eager.

I felt the blood rush to my face. Kelce was the type of guy who always thought he knew everything, especially when it came to people’s lives. And maybe I hadn’t been as good at hiding things as I liked to think. "I’m not really in the mood for your jokes tonight," I said, walking past him quickly. I could feel his eyes on my back as I moved away. He didn’t get it. They never did.

And then there was Riley, my older brother. He was talking to Rafe now, laughing at some joke I didn’t care enough to overhear. Rafe had always been a problem, but tonight it felt like he was more of a shadow than usual, lurking around the edges of everything. He was dangerous in the way that you could never be sure what side he was on or what game he was playing.

As I made my way toward the edge of the party, I couldn’t help but notice that the tables were littered with half-drunk glasses, abandoned champagne flutes, and half-empty cocktails. The temptation was unbearable. My throat felt tight as I scanned the crowd, looking for an easy target—someone who wouldn’t notice, someone who wouldn’t care.

I found it quickly—a half-drunk glass of something pink, a sweet little cocktail with a tiny umbrella sticking out. It was sitting alone on the edge of a table, the owner nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, I picked it up, took a quick sip. It tasted like sugar, something fruity with a sharp kick. I felt the warmth spread through me almost immediately, and I couldn’t help but sigh. It was like the world around me softened, the harsh edges of the night going blurry. For a second, I felt good, not so out of place, not so suffocated by everything I couldn’t stand.

I didn’t even think about where the glass had come from, who it belonged to, or how many people had touched it before me. I just took another sip, and then another. The feeling, the way the alcohol settled in my chest, made everything a little easier. I didn't care about the Kooks, about Topper, about anything. For once, I was just floating.

It was easy to get lost in the moment, to let the party's chaos carry me away. But just as quickly as the high hit, I realized how deep I was in it. I had to keep it together—keep it all together—because if anyone noticed, it could all fall apart. I didn’t want to be that person. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be the person I was supposed to be either.

I set the glass down, feeling the familiar sting of shame creeping up my neck. The night was just beginning, and I already knew I was going to need more to survive it.

I turned away from the drink station quickly, shaking off the buzz that was creeping in. I didn’t want to think about it too much. I wasn’t going to let myself slip—not here, not now. I knew how to play the game—keep my cool, stay in control. Even if it meant lying to everyone around me, including myself.

But as I walked across the lawn, I spotted Sarah Cameron by the drink station. She was laughing with a few of her friends, looking every bit the perfect Kook in her dress. She noticed me almost immediately, and for a moment, our eyes met across the space.

It wasn’t that I hated Sarah—honestly, we just didn’t click anymore. We’d been close once, back when everything felt simpler. When Kie and I hung out with her, before the weight of the world had shifted and split us apart. Now, it was like we were in two different worlds, drifting in and out of the same spaces, but never really connecting.

"Hey, Kalani," Sarah called out with a smile, her voice easy and warm. It wasn’t fake—just… distant.

"Hey," I replied, offering a tight smile of my own, but I could feel that strange distance between us. I wished we could go back to how things were before it all fell apart, but it wasn’t like I could pretend everything was fine. Not anymore.

Sarah’s eyes scanned me up and down, a flicker of something passing through her gaze. "You look really nice," she said, her tone genuine. "The dress suits you."

I felt the weight of her words, and for a second, I almost wanted to thank her. But something inside me held me back. She was being nice, but that old sense of betrayal—of everything we used to have slipping away—was still there, lingering between us.

"Thanks," I said quickly, brushing it off with a half-smile. "You look great too."

Sarah nodded, her smile softening, but she hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was a reminder of everything that had changed. The old closeness we’d shared was just… gone now.

"So, are you enjoying the party?" she asked, trying to make conversation, her tone still light.

"Yeah," I lied. "It’s fine."

She nodded again, glancing over at the crowd, then back at me. "I know things were weird between us for a while," she said, catching me off guard. "But it’s nice to see you again. I hope you’re doing okay."

I looked at her, really looked at her. She wasn’t trying to start something, or stir up drama. It was just... two people who had shared something once, but it had fizzled out. Her words felt sincere, and for a second, I almost wanted to say something back. To acknowledge it, maybe even apologize for how things had turned out. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

"Yeah," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to the grass at my feet. "I’m good."

Before Sarah could say anything else, I turned, heading back toward the side of the yard, away from the crowd. I needed a moment to breathe. It felt like everyone was looking at me, judging me, even though I knew they weren’t. I couldn’t shake that feeling of being out of place, though.

As I walked, I spotted a table with a few half-drunk glasses of champagne sitting on it. Without thinking, I reached for one of the glasses and took a sip. The sharp tang of the alcohol hit my tongue, and I didn’t care that it wasn’t mine. The rush, the warmth spreading through my chest, made me forget for a moment that I was still stuck in this strange in-between world.

Riley must’ve seen me, because he was suddenly at my side, his hand on my arm, his face serious.

"Hey, what’s going on?" he asked, his voice low. "You okay?"

I just shrugged, trying to act like everything was fine, even though it wasn’t. "Yeah, I’m fine."

Riley looked at me for a moment longer, like he could see right through me, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just gave me a small, almost resigned nod, as if he knew what was really going on.

And for a second, I felt seen. But then, just like that, the moment passed, and the world kept spinning around me.

I didn’t want to be here. But here I was.

But something caught my eye almost immediately.

JJ.

I stopped in my tracks, squinting through the crowd. Was that... him?

He stood at the edge of the patio, fiddling nervously with the collar of his shirt, wearing a black suit and a bowtie that looked about as awkward on him as a fish out of water. I walked over, pushing my way through the crowd.

"JJ?" I called out, raising my voice to be heard over the noise.

His head whipped around, eyes wide with that familiar cocky grin that was more for show than anything.

"Kalani, what's up?" he said, his voice a little too loud and obviously trying to sound casual.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, giving him a once-over. "You look like a waiter, not like yourself."

He laughed, shrugging with that nonchalant ease I’d come to expect from him. "Yeah, well, I'm here to deliver something. John B needed to give Sarah a note. So, here I am—waiter JJ, at your service."

I raised an eyebrow. "A note for Sarah?"

JJ pulled out the crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to me, looking around the party like he was trying to make sure no one saw him. I opened it, and my eyes skimmed the scrawled words:

Meet me at bag drop - Vlad

I looked at JJ, confused. "Who’s Vlad?" I asked, my voice low.

JJ just shrugged again, his eyes darting across the room, clearly nervous. "John B wouldn’t tell me. But I’m telling you, Kalani, John B’s definitely mackin' on Sarah Cameron. No doubt about it."

I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. Mackin'? John B and Sarah?

"Seriously?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "You’re telling me John B is hooking up with Sarah Cameron?"

"Yup." JJ nodded, giving a grin like he was proud of the gossip he just dropped.

“Your serious?” I say, handing the note back to JJ.

“Dead serious.” He says with a nod, taking the note and putting it back in his pocket.

I look at JJ for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His face is all scrunched up in that mischievous way he gets when he’s trying to be sly, and I can’t help but smirk. Of course, JJ would be involved in something like this. "So you’re really doing this, huh?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Pretending to be a waiter at the Kook’s fancy party just to get a note to Sarah?"

JJ shrugs, looking around like he’s making sure no one’s watching. “Hey, someone’s gotta do it, right? Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” he says, flashing a grin that doesn’t exactly match the nervous energy swirling around his eyes. “Besides, John B owes me one. This is gonna be fun.”

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, fun. Just try not to get caught, okay?"

“Caught?” He scoffs. “Please, I’m practically invisible in this suit.” He adjusts his bowtie, puffing out his chest like he’s some kind of undercover agent. I just shake my head, already imagining the mess he’s going to cause.

Before I can say anything else, he’s already slipping into the crowd, blending in with the other Kooks, who are too busy with their champagne flutes and fake smiles to notice the trouble brewing. I turn away, the sound of the party rising up around me again.

I just want to be anywhere but here. But there’s no escape tonight. Not when my family insists on dragging me through their charade, pretending like everything’s perfect.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. I find myself wandering the edge of the yard, away from the crowds, just trying to catch my breath. That’s when I see it—a table set with half-empty glasses of champagne. Without thinking, I grab one, taking a long, deep sip. The alcohol burns down my throat, but for a second, it’s a relief. The warmth spreads through my chest, a nice contrast to the ice-cold feeling that’s been eating away at me all night.

“Kalani,” a voice calls out, snapping me out of my haze. I turn to see Riley standing behind me, a concerned look on his face. “What are you doing?”

I try to act casual, but I can tell he’s already seeing through me. “Nothing,” I mutter, waving my hand dismissively. “Just needed a drink.”

He eyes me for a long moment, his gaze intense, and I can’t help but feel like he’s seeing something I’m not ready to show. But after a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he just steps closer, his hand gently touching my arm, like he’s trying to ground me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, even though I don’t feel okay. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... just not feeling it tonight.” I glance down at my heels, feeling like they’re the only thing holding me up at this point.

Riley doesn’t push me. He just stands there for a moment longer, his presence a silent support, before he steps back, nodding once. “Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

I watch as he walks off, swallowed up by the crowd, and I’m left alone with my thoughts again. For a brief moment, I feel like I can breathe again. But then, I hear it—a loud laugh, followed by shouting.

I turn, and that’s when I see JJ. He’s being chased.

It’s chaos—Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and a few others are barrelling after him, pushing through the crowd like they’re on a mission. JJ’s suit jacket flaps as he tries to sprint away, a wild grin on his face like he’s somehow enjoying this.

I glance around, trying to figure out what’s going on, but before I can piece it together, I see Sarah. She’s watching the scene unfold, a small laugh escaping her lips as she talks to a few other people nearby. I don’t know why, but I feel a little guilty—like somehow, this mess is my fault, even though I had nothing to do with it.

I glance back at JJ, still dodging the group chasing him, and can’t help but shake my head. Whatever chaos this night’s going to throw at me, it’s only just beginning.

I freeze when I hear JJ’s voice—loud, brash, unmistakable—cutting through the hum of conversation like a knife. I turn just in time to see him being hauled out by the security guard, who’s doing his best to look authoritative but failing miserably as JJ’s antics draw more attention than anything else happening in the room.

“Look—hey look man! I got legs, I can walk myself. Can you see that, brother?” JJ’s voice is grating, defiant, but there’s a weird sense of humor in it too, like he’s playing some sick joke on the entire party.

The crowd around us stirs in shock, gasps echoing through the air. I can see some of the Kooks shaking their heads in disgust, tsking under their breath. My parents aren’t far behind, their expressions a mixture of confusion and irritation.

I don’t know why, but I feel my stomach drop. The scene is embarrassing—so embarrassing—but I can’t look away. I know JJ’s out of place here. He’s not even supposed to be here.

The security guard pulls JJ right past me, and for a second, our eyes meet. His grin is wide, almost too wide, as if he’s enjoying the chaos he’s causing. I can tell he’s acting out, getting under the skin of everyone here just because he can. He’s never been one to shy away from drama, even if it means making a spectacle of himself.

“Alright, I really appreciate whatcha did back there, but let me just walk myself out,” JJ says to the security guard, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The guard doesn’t respond, just yanking on his arm in an attempt to hurry him along.

As they pass, JJ stops at a table, and I can’t help but feel like I’m witnessing some strange, surreal moment. He pats an old man on the shoulder, someone I barely recognize but who’s definitely a fixture at these Kook events—Mr. Dunleavy, I think his name is.

“Oh! Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink,” JJ says with exaggerated cheerfulness, looking completely out of place in the fancy surroundings. The old man just looks at him, clearly bewildered, and nods, unsure of how to respond to this drunken interloper.

“Good that’s really nice for ya. I’m actually gonna down that-“ JJ, not waiting for an invitation, grabs Mr. Dunleavy’s whiskey glass. Without a second thought, he lifts it to his lips, downing the entire contents in one swift motion. The way he swallows it with a satisfied grin on his face almost makes me laugh, but I hold it in.

JJ slams the glass back down onto the table with a dramatic thud that echoes across the patio, drawing even more stares from the guests. The security guard, still holding onto his arm, continues to drag him through the crowd of Kooks like a stubborn bull being led to slaughter. JJ groans loudly, probably feeling the burn of the whiskey, he just downed, followed by an enthusiastic "Woo!" that cuts through the hum of the party, making heads turn.

“I really appreciate the discretion, Darel, ya know?” JJ says, slurring slightly but maintaining his cocky demeanour. The security guard, Darel, looks utterly unamused as he pulls JJ past a table of laughing guests.

“It’s okay, everybody! Do not panic,” JJ calls out to the crowd with a huge grin plastered on his face, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music. He throws his arms wide, like he’s hosting some twisted show. “Let’s leave it to the men and women in uniform, huh?” He claps his hands together as if this is some grand performance, his words laced with more sarcasm than sincerity.

A few of the Kooks laugh nervously, unsure of whether they should be entertained or appalled. I’m not sure which one I feel.

JJ, still soaking up the attention, scans the crowd until his eyes land on Rose Cameron. He points at her across the yard like he’s spotted a celebrity in the crowd, a wild grin spreading across his face.

“Rose!” he shouts, waving a hand at her, as if he’s the life of the party and everyone should be on his wavelength. “You look like Lady Liberty!”

Rose, wearing a spiky gold crown that indeed looks eerily similar to the Statue of Liberty’s, looks both confused and mildly flattered, unsure whether to be offended or impressed. Her eyes widen a little in surprise, but she manages a polite smile and a small wave, trying to keep her cool.

The crowd’s attention is now fully on JJ, some people chuckling nervously, others shaking their heads in disbelief. This is a scene straight out of a bad reality show, and I can’t help but feel embarrassed for everyone involved.

I catch a glimpse of my mom and dad, both of them visibly tense, their faces a mixture of frustration and confusion. I can already tell this is not the kind of drama they wanted at their perfect little party. I feel a pit form in my stomach, a sense of dread creeping over me as I realize that no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape the mess of my life. It’s everywhere, even here, even tonight.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms sweating as I stood there, staring at the security guard who still had a firm grip on JJ’s arm. The crowd had quieted down, some of them looking at me, waiting to see what I would do next. My parents’ disapproving stares were like daggers in my back, but I couldn’t back down. Not this time.

"Let go of him!" I snapped, my voice tight with frustration. The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Behind me, I heard my dad’s quiet, warning “Hey,” but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t care about his tone right now. I just couldn’t stand seeing JJ getting dragged through the crowd like that.

"You can’t just boot him out!" I said, louder this time, directing my words at the security guard, who had stopped walking but still had a firm grip on JJ’s arm.

My mom’s fingers dug into my arm, pulling me back a little, her presence almost a physical reminder of the Kook world I was always forced to be part of. I knew she was about to intervene, probably with some polished apology and a few well-placed smiles, but I couldn’t let that happen. Not now.

"Excuse me, ma’am?" The security guard asked, his tone polite but firm, like he had dealt with spoiled brats and their tantrums a thousand times before.

"I invited him here," I said, my voice coming out even more steady than I felt. I didn’t care if it was a half-truth. JJ wasn’t some random guy crashing the party. He was a part of my world too, in his own messed-up way.

Behind me, my parents’ voices overlapped, both of them whispering at once. "Kalani, stop it," my mom said sharply, her voice tight with worry.

"Stop," my dad muttered, his tone lower, but no less insistent. He was probably afraid this would spiral into more drama than they could control. But I wasn’t stopping. Not now.

"I’m a member of this club," I said, my hand outstretched, gesturing towards myself as if the words alone could somehow fix this situation. As if that would make everything okay, make JJ’s presence here less of a threat to their precious image. But it didn’t.

The security guard paused, his gaze flicking to my parents, who were now standing behind me, clearly uncomfortable with the direction this was going. His grip on JJ loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go completely. The tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

"Kalani, please," my mom tried again, her voice low, but I could hear the desperation in it. She wanted this night to be perfect. She wanted nothing to disturb the image they had so carefully cultivated. But I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t going to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t.

I stood my ground, staring at the security guard, who was still holding JJ like he was some unruly guest.

I watched as JJ shoved the security guard off of him with surprising ease, sending him stumbling into a small group of Kooks, who gasped and looked at him in confusion. JJ, as always, was unbothered. He barely even paused, turning to the security guard with a casual, "Sorry about that," before his attention shifted back to me.

"Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixons, Lani," he called out to me, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he pointed at me. My stomach churned—Rixons was a run-down shack by the docks, the last place my parents or any of the Kooks would ever set foot. But that was exactly what made it the perfect place for us. For the Pogues.

He glanced over at Pope, who had been working behind one of the food stands with his dad all night, and waved him over. "Pope, you as well, all right?" JJ shouted, already backing away, his excitement growing.

"Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll!" JJ finished, lifting his arm in the air like a triumphant leader, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. The way he always made everything sound like some kind of rebellion was a little ridiculous, but honestly, it was part of what made him so... JJ.

Pope, still standing there frozen, blinked at JJ, probably unsure if he was serious. But I knew the look. I had seen Pope wrestle with his conscience before, torn between doing the right thing and the pull of the chaos we always found at Rixons.

JJ wasn’t waiting for an answer. "Alright, Lani, come on!" he shouted again, a playful challenge in his voice. He raised his arm, wrapping it around his wrist like he was trying to make some kind of statement, and then grinned at me. "Workers of the world unite! Throw off your chains!" he shouted, quoting some random revolutionary slogan he probably read on a T-shirt or in a book he barely understood.

It didn’t matter what he said, though. The invitation was clear. JJ was already planning the next adventure, the next way to escape this fake world of perfection that we had to keep pretending we belonged to. The night was still young, and as much as I tried to ignore the consequences, I found myself looking at him with that familiar urge to leave everything behind.

The tension in the air was thick, my parents' voices rising behind me, but I didn't care. My mom's hand reached for my arm, her grip firm as she tried to pull me back.

"You can't hang around these kids—" My dad's voice cracked through the chaos, but I couldn't take it anymore. I yanked my arm out of my mom's grasp, my heart pounding.

"I'm sorry," I muttered under my breath, though I wasn’t sure I meant it. The words sounded empty. I could hear my dad yelling after me—"Hey! Hey!"—but it only spurred me on. My mom's voice echoed in my ears too, a warning, but I kept pushing past the crowd, making my way toward the edge of the party.

John B, JJ, and Pope were already making their move. John B was standing just a few feet from JJ, his eyes scanning the crowd, but I didn't care. My eyes were locked on JJ, and as I sprinted toward him, I could feel the weight of everything I was leaving behind—the judgment, the expectations—falling away.

JJ saw me coming, a grin spreading across his face. He didn’t wait for me to reach him. Instead, he started walking backwards, arms outstretched like he was calling me to him.

And just like that, I was in his arms, throwing myself at him. JJ caught me easily, lifting me up off the ground with a laugh, spinning me around like we were the only two people who existed. I buried my face in his shoulder, laughing too, feeling the rush of freedom in my veins as he twirled me around.

For a moment, everything was perfect—no fake smiles, no Kooks, no pressure. Just us. Just the Pogues. We were escaping the world we didn’t belong in, even if only for a few hours.

JJ set me down, still grinning, his hand brushing my hair out of my face. "Thought you'd never get here," he said, his voice warm with amusement. "Welcome to the escape, Lani."

I smiled back at him, shaking my head, but I couldn’t stop the excitement from bubbling inside me. "You know I can't stay away."

As we turned to walk away, I could hear the faint sound of my parents still yelling behind me, but it felt like it was coming from another world. JJ, Pope, and John B were already ahead, moving with purpose toward Rixons. I caught up with them, the night stretching out before us, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.

Master list

[scekrex]

hey, hear me out, Adam with a reader with lots of tattoos, like, the WHOLE body, and Adam finds the reader really badass and try to do a tattoo too but he totally regrets it afterwards

Okay so reader's not only tattooed but also a self-taught tattoo artist bc I said so °^° I hope ya like Adam's breakdown over a shitty tattoo <3

He can fix it

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Adam adored every single drop of ink that had been poked underneath your skin, even if he didn’t understand certain design choices, he loved your tattoos, thought they made you look badass.

And then one day you had gotten home from yet another appointment, heaven had two, maybe three tattoo studios and the only one near you was fucking shitty so getting a tattoo always went hand in hand with being gone for at least three days - yet it was always worth the travel because at least they did a good job. There was one little studio close to you, the artists weren’t nice, their work wasn’t good and every damn day you wondered how they managed to pay rent because there was simply no way people were actually getting tattooed there. But on the other hand it really wasn’t your place to judge because you had started just as shitty when you had started to learn the skill of tattooing. You hadn’t tattooed others though, only ever practiced on fake skin or your own body.

So when you got home from your latest appointment and proudly showed Adam your newest tattoo, the first man was quite surprised that it was related to him. You proudly flexed your forearm as you showed him the artwork of the battle ax version of his guitar that would now forever be on your skin. “You’re absolutely fucking insane, babes,” he wispered as his hand grabbed your wrist in order to pull your arm closer to his face to see the artwork up close. It was a super detailed image that left Adam breathless, he loved it so much. “This is fucking on point, and the blood sinner dripping from it? Holy fuck man.” You shot him a teasing grin as you pulled your arm back to grab the first man by his collar and pull him in, “So, when do ya get my weapon tattooed?” It wasn’t meant as an honest question, you knew Adam adored tattoos on your skin but getting inked up himself? He wasn’t so sure about it. The pain he would be able to handle without any problems, that wasn’t his deal at all. It was more about the design. And to be fair? Getting your halberd tattooed sounded like a great fucking idea in his ears. So he offered you an equally teasing smirk as he tilted his chin upwards and confidently replied, “I’m gonna make an appointment right fucking now.” You curiously raised an eyebrow at Adam, he had been so quick to decide for something so permanent? It wasn’t that the first man was against inking up his own skin - far from it actually, he had told you so often that he wanted tattoos too, but whenever you had offered to design him one he had backed out. So this decision came quite surprisingly. "You sure? Y’know that ya don’t have to-” “Oh shut your fucking mouth, I fucking know okay? "BUT I wanna.” His voice didn’t sound as confident anymore and you seriously questioned the decision he had just made. But if he was so sure about it, you would let him have some fun. He had to know what he was doing, that really wasn’t your place to tell him no.

-

Adam had made an appointment at the tattoo studio near your apartment, you had told him that their work lacked skill but he had simply ignored it, had told you that it’ll be fine. He simply was too lazy to travel so fucking far for something as simple as a tattoo, and seriosly how bad could it be?

Well, very fucking bad.

Because when the brunette opened the door to your shared apartment and his eyes met yours, you knew they had fucked up. There was disappointment in his expression, guilt for not listening to you and discomfort for what they had done to his body. They had ruined it, the lines were wobbly, the coloring was so inaccurate and the details of the carvings had been completely ignored, for fucks sake, Adam was sure a toddler would’ve done better.

You got up from the couch immediately, “Show me,” there was no excitement in your voice and the first man knew you were aware of the situation. “Fuck no,” Adam pressed his left forearm thightly against his chest, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm at the firm contact. His wings pushed you back a little as he wrapped them around you in order to feel protected - he was in pure discomfort. Why did he think going to that studio had been a good idea? You had informed him that their work wasn’t good, you had warned him. And he had actively decided to ignore that warning and now he would never be able to wear fucking short sleeved tops again. That’s how much he hated what they did to him. “Ain’t no fucking way I let you see this shit.” You sighed and your eyes softened a little, providing some comfort - you weren’t mad at Adam, why should you? But you guessed the way you had demanded to see the clearly fucked up tattoo made it seem like you were. “Adam, the tone of your voice matched the kindness your eyes offered and you gently reached for his wrist, “Show me so I can make a plan to fix it.”

His eyes shifted from the fresh tattoo that was covered by the sleeve of his robe to you and with a sigh he sunk his wings and extended his arm in your direction so that you could have a look. “They let you leave with that piece of shit on your skin?” you complained and looked at the LED expression his mask offered. “I’m here and that shit is on my arm, so yeah, they fucking did.” You guided him into the bedroom, letting him sit down on the bed. Your hands reached for his mask and carefully pulled it off his head, exposing his face, his eyes were filled with anger, sadness and regret. “Put on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, calm yourself down a little and come to me when you’re ready okay?” You placed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, “I’ll set up my tattoo needle and I’ll fix that mess for ya. Take all the time you need for that.” You were about to pull back and give him some space as he grabbed your wrist tightly and looked at you with wide eyes, “You can fix it?” You playfully rolled your eyes and shrugged, “Fuck yeah I can fix it bae.”

[sukunasweetheart]

Where the Petals Cascade - Chapter One

Synopsis & Masterlist

Tags; slowburn, eventual smut, eventual romance, contract marriage, lots of sexual tension, manipulative & womaniser sukuna, potential angst, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of gambling, lots of flirting, fake relationship trope.

Word count; 12k

01. Chapter One.

Malevolent Casino - a brand easily recognised by the public. The rising popularity of this casino company is no secret to the world. And the way they’re topping the casino industry only adds to the wealth held by the man that possesses this establishment that’s tainted with the misery of others. Gambling– everyone loves to shun the topic of it out in the open, but when times are tough and a good rush of adrenaline is needed, guess where people drift towards?

Sukuna put out the light on his cigar as he gazed upon his company’s revenue from last year, printed out on the document he held up in his hand. The incredibly significant numbers put a smile to his face. Earning money off of the pathetic men and women that have crippling addictions - all of them being regulars at his facilities - there is no better source of income for a person like Sukuna than this.

But still…he felt as though he was always missing something.

Though the amount of money being raked in was quite remarkable, there was a lack of exponential growth seen in the company’s annual revenue in the past few years. In some, there had even been a slightly concerning and noticeable decrease.

It had taken Sukuna a little bit of pondering to realise what it was that his company lacked - a good public image. Perhaps it was due to how his business emerged from the darker part of society; a flawless reputation had been something that was the least of Sukuna’s concerns back when he’d began making his way to the top.

He definitely wasn’t about to let his business flicker out like a dying flame in a decade or so. A plan was to be devised.

…And thus, this finalised plan of his brings him to this small, yet refined bar in a more remote and quiet part of the city. 

-

Sitting at the bar counter alone, you bask yourself in the slow music that echoes around, taking the final sip from your almost-empty glass. There are very few customers around in your vicinity, and perhaps only a little bit of muted chattering can be heard in the distance from where you remain.

Just as you’re about to ask the bartender for another, he brings you a drink that you have no memory of ordering.

“The gentleman over there requested this for you,” he voices, noticing your expression of inquiry. You turn to see a man wearing an expensive looking crimson suit, giving you a small smile from across the room. Ominous looking tattoos adorn his face, but they compliment his pink, gelled up hair quite well. You politely smile back at him, and turn to the front again.

Judging from its colour and scent, you can guess what kind of drink it is. You can’t really say that it’s your favourite.

A few minutes after, footsteps resound from behind - and a deep, velvety voice calls out to you.

You look up and meet the man’s eyes.

“Not a fan of whiskey?” he asks, smoothly taking the empty seat beside you.

“Unfortunately not,” you respond, swirling the glass cup’s contents around mindlessly with your hand.

“Apologies for that. What kind of drink do you prefer?”

“...A dry martini would be nice,” you tell him, reflecting his flawless falsified smile.

The pink haired man gives a little nod to the bartender, and he is soon on his way to mix up another drink for you.

“And I’ll help myself with this one, in your stead.”

He reaches out for the glass in your hand, and as he closes the distance between his and your body, the scent of his cologne seems to disperse into the air around you. You watch his fingertips graze your hand ever so slightly, while he takes the whiskey away.

“Would you believe me if I said I’d fallen in love at first sight?” he responds with a humorous undertone.

“You’re quite the fine gentleman. What business would you have with a lady like me tonight?”

Sukuna lets out a boyish chuckle - the only genuine reaction you’ll be getting out of him today.

It was your turn to let out a small laugh.

He faces you with a smirk, and you notice the way he taps his finger against the surface of the counter.

“Certainly not. You don’t seem like the type,” you tell him.

“Oh? And why is that?” He takes a sip from the glass of whiskey.

“You don’t strike me as a very sentimental man.”

“I wouldn’t say that you’re entirely incorrect. But I’m not as emotionless as you may think.”

You meet his eyes once again. It’s incredibly difficult to tell when this man is lying.

“Is that so,” you say, giving him a look of intrigue.

Moments later, your martini finally arrives, which you’re quite happy to see.

“I don’t believe so. The Golden Rose Enterprise has been a vastly successful business, ever since you took over.”

“Malevolent Casino, is it? The name of your company,” you ask as you take the drink into your hand.

“An honour that you know of it. Especially from someone of your calibre,” Sukuna says, unsurprised that you’d caught onto him.

��You flatter me.”

You force out a courteous smile.

“I’ll assume that we’re skipping over the self introductions,” he continues speaking.

“Feel free to contact me when you’re ready. I’ll be happy to take you out for dinner.”

“It’s true that I approached you with an offer in mind that you may find interesting,” Sukuna informs, eyeing your reactions carefully.

“Apologies, but I don’t usually tend to talk about business when I’m around alcohol.”

“That’s fine by me,” he says, reaching into the inner pocket of his suit. What he pulls out is a business card.

He then finishes up the remaining whiskey in his glass in one go and stands up to pay for the both of you. Before he excuses himself however, he comes over to you one last time.

“Business is business, but…”

Sukuna leans down closer to you, his face being inches away from yours.

“I’m not fuckin’ around when I say that I’m interested in you too. I don’t just buy drinks for anybody,” he tells you in a low voice. The sudden tonal shift from being overly formal to the crude language is indeed something you weren’t expecting. An unexplainable shock runs down your spine. Seeing your widened eyes grant him satisfaction, and he smirks as he gazes down at you while still hovering close to your face for a few more seconds.

He moves back away, and puts his hands into his pockets.

“It would be nice to get to know you better. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again,” Sukuna tells you, as he begins to walk away.

“Have a good evening.”

You’re left alone with the drink that he’s bought for you, and the black business card that still holds the scent of his cologne. You chuckle cynically at yourself, looking at the number that's printed on it.

The man sure knows how to linger in someone’s thoughts.

Meanwhile, outside of the bar, Sukuna hums as he walks over to his car. Easy. A bit too easy.

He’s casted out the bait - now all he shall do is wait for you to bite onto it.

-

A little over a week has passed since then - and frustratingly enough, he has heard nothing from you as of yet. He spins the pen in his hand at his desk, while he rests his chin against his other palm lazily. He’s certain that he had indeed grabbed your attention that night. What could be the reason for this radio silence? Are you shy? Overly cautious? Too busy?

That last possible reason ticks him off a bit. You’re not the only one running a successful business here. You think he’s not busy?

His thoughts are interrupted when a knock comes at his door.

“Come in,” he states firmly, not moving from his current position. Uraume, his secretary, enters the room shortly after. They walk up closer to where his desk is, and stops to stand a few metres away.

“What is it?” he asks them, continuing to fiddle with that pen in his hand.

“I’ve received a report saying there’s been a bit of a dispute between an employee and a regular customer, sir. The customer is giving threats to sue the company, and the employee sustained an injury from an object that was thrown at him. I thought it’d be best if you knew about it.”

“Is he a VIP customer?” Sukuna asks immediately.

“No, sir.”

“Then he’s nothing to worry about. If he takes it to court like an idiot, send one of our lawyers to the case. He’s injured one of the staff - he’s unlikely to win.”

“Yes sir.”

He stops fidgeting with the pen.

“How’d they end up dealing with him?”

“He was escorted outside by the security guards - by force.”

“By force, huh…”

That’s right…

If you won’t look his way, he can just force you to.

“Uraume. You wouldn’t mind if I went on a little break, would you?”

-

This is your favourite part of the day.

Sitting down at your large desk, signing off a few papers quietly whilst the steam rises from the piping hot cup of tea that rests close to you. Right after finalising these few documents, you’ll get to sip on it and take a little break from your work…Or so you thought. Three sharp knocks resound from the door.

“Yes? Please come in,” you call out.

The person that emerges from the entrance is Nanami, your most competent secretary.

“It seems there’s a significant guest visiting the hotel today, ma’am. The manager requests your presence in greeting this person,” he informs you.

“Significant guest? I don’t recall there being any VIP bookings today,” you respond, standing up from your seat and walking over towards him.

“He booked in moments prior, and also applied for the VIP membership today. Paid on the spot.”

“...Impressive,” you relent, already having an educated guess on who this person may be.

The two of you make your way down to the hotel lobby, where you’re faced with a few slightly panic-stricken employees of yours, all of them making way for you to approach this new “significant guest” of yours.

Sukuna smiles triumphantly as you make your appearance, being blatant about his pride in his presence that requires a personal greeting from the CEO herself.

“Good afternoon, sir. To what do I owe this pleasure?” you say, standing before him.

“There’s no need to be so formal. I just thought it’d be nice to spend my day off somewhere… extravagant.”

He scans his surroundings, pretending to be interested in the interior decoration and furnishing of the lobby.

“I see. Then allow me to accompany you to your VIP suite,” you tell him with a polite smile. Nanami receives the key for Sukuna’s room while you dismiss the employees that are gathered around the front desk - getting them on their way to greet the other guests coming in.

“Nanami - you can head back up and finish your paperwork for the day,” you instruct the man as you take the key from his hand, “I can guide him by myself.”

“Yes ma’am.” He makes a short bow and excuses himself first.

You turn to look at Sukuna, who seems to be pleased with your decision to send everybody else away.

“Well then. Shall we be on our way?”

“Certainly.”

He follows you close behind all the way to a private elevator that is separate from the ones taken by regular guests.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and both of you step inside of it once the doors slide open.

“From my understanding…you’re not here simply for a nice hotel experience, are you?” you ask Sukuna, who is watching the floor numbers on the monitor go down as the two of you wait for its arrival.

“Such keen observation, as usual. You are correct.”

Bullshit, Sukuna thinks.

“I assume then, it’s got something to do with my lack of response to your proposal that other day.”

“So you’re aware. I thought you’d forgotten all about me, with the way I was left waiting.”

“I do apologise. The week has been rather busy for me, but I promise to come by soon enough.”

“Very well,” he replies, turning to you with a pretentious smile.

“In the meantime, it would be nice if I could show you around - especially since you came all the way here,” you suggest to him. “Please let me treat you to some lunch.”

“I look forward to it.”

Upon entering the suite, you make a quick tour of the room for him, ignoring the couple of underhanded compliments he gave every now and then regarding the interior design. A very particular person, he is. Though a large majority of it was done out of spite; he was, truthfully, quite impressed by the quality. There was no luggage that he’d brought with him today, considering how he was only spending one night here, so the room tour ended pretty quickly and you were soon bringing him along to the restaurant, down the building.

As the name of your company suggests - the colour gold seems to linger around at every turn they take, being draped over a lot of the furnishing and architecture. He can’t shake off the feeling that it might be a little excessive. After passing through the hallways, the two of you finally get to the hotel’s dining room. A waiter comes around and formally introduces themselves, before handing over two menu lists after leading you to an appropriate table for two.

“What would you like to eat? We have quite a broad list of options that you can choose from.”

He skims over the various dishes listed on the laminated sheet before making a quick decision on the Filet Mignon, with tomato soup and a bread roll as the appetiser. You decide to have the same thing.

“You seem pretty excited,” you comment, gazing over at him with an amused look on your face.

“Of course. Eating is one of the greatest pleasures of life,” he states with confidence, eyeing the perfectly polished cutlery on the table, “don’t you agree?”

“Undoubtedly. Which is why we only hire the best chefs for our hotel dining.”

“I’m not too difficult to satisfy when it comes to food, so you don’t need to get too nervous,” he tells you. This evokes a genuine chuckle out of you. He really likes eating – is a mental note that you make in your head quietly.

Sukuna eats in a very satisfying way-- he eats tidily, but is not shy to clean everything off the plate. You can’t help but appreciate his table manners. You pour a glass of the tropical fruit juice for him. When questioned ‘Why not wine instead?’ - he’d replied with ‘It’s too bright outside for alcohol,’ which came off as a surprise to you.

What he notices from you, is the way you seem to be closely analysing him. For what purpose? A few ideas do come to mind. But he can tell you’re not doing it with malicious intent. He accepts the juice that you offer him.

“Do you have a lover, Mr. Ryomen?” you ask him, out of the blue. It even takes him aback, a little bit.

“...Would it please you if I said no?” Sukuna shoots back, having his interest piqued from your sudden query.

“It most certainly would,” you say with a small smile. He can’t really read into what you’re trying to do here.

Outwardly, there is little change in his demeanour. Continuing to cut up his meal, he watches as the blood oozes out from the pink and tender meat inside– something that he most appreciates, when it comes to having his steak rare.

“Would it be alright for me to visit you at your room tonight?” you say.

Your abrupt assertiveness is nothing less than…puzzling. But it wouldn’t really hurt to play along with you for now.

“A rather…sudden initiative, on your part. Can I ask why?”

“There’s no need to read too deep into it. I’ve been meticulously planning something for a while now,” you put your cutlery down onto the table, “and I think you might find it appealing.”

It’s not often that Sukuna gets curious about something, or someone.

“I’m happy to listen to your proposal as well, of course. I’m confident it will fit well into mine.”

Sukuna takes his last bite of the steak and also puts his knife and fork down.

“Quite a bold claim to make, considering how I haven’t told you what I want yet…” he wipes his lips down with a serviette and neatly folds it up. “...But sure. I’m eager to hear what you have in mind.”

He just hopes it won’t be a waste of his time.

The two of you continue to make aimless small talk as dessert comes around, before you have to eventually excuse yourself to continue your office duties.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Ryomen. I’ll come by at around 8pm, tonight,” you tell him, standing up from your seat and making a quick glance at your wristwatch.

“Right. I’ll see you then,” he replies, and proceeds to watch as you walk off, each elegant step followed by another.

Sukuna knows - it won’t be easy work manipulating you, from the looks of it. He plans to start off small; offer to work in collaboration with you, only to slowly start making his way further into your prized possession– Golden Rose Enterprise– like a poison that spreads through the veins. Whether it’s through seizing your love and affection, or grasping tightly onto a weakness of yours - he’ll let you decide on that.

For now, all he needs to do is find a way to kill the time before 8pm arrives. Perhaps he should call for an in-room massage later?

-

By the time you reach your office once again, your pitiful cup of tea has gone terribly cold. You get someone to dispose of it for you.

Ryomen Sukuna… the man seems to be plotting something. You knew from the very moment he reached out, that he was up to no good. Him and his company are both quite infamous - just as your hotels are known for their flawless reputation and transparency, Sukuna’s business is known for their questionable public image. Though there hasn’t been any real trouble that’s arisen as of yet, the rumours that they’re roped into aren’t pleasant at all.

And not to mention the CEO himself…

Eccentric, temperamental, yet also intelligent and charismatic; this is what your research on him tells you so far. A long history of scandals involving various female celebrities, the man has lived through quite a dramatic love life if what the articles say are true.

But, well, you’re not that particularly worried. You finish signing off the remaining papers at your desk.

You’ll put him on a leash, before he puts one onto you. You print off a copy of your well put together, finalised contract, and slide it into an A4 envelope, sealing it shut. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

At ten minutes to eight, you’re ready to head into his room, where you shall reveal your cards to him.

Meanwhile- Sukuna, in his VIP suite- has just finished up his shower and makes an effort to dry his hair with a towel taken from the hanger. He then hums as he feels up the material on the pitch black bathrobe he finds on the sink counter, neatly folded and ready for use. After donning the robe, he emerges from the bathroom at good timing as he hears someone at the door.

It hardly seems surprising to you, when he opens up shamelessly wearing the hotel’s bathrobe that presents his collar bones in a lascivious way, still looking a little moist from his shower. You ignore all of that, and look up at him, who smirks down at you, in all his arrogance.

“Good to see you. Come on in,” he tells you with nonchalance, stepping off to the side to make way for you.

“It’s good to see you making yourself comfortable. How do you like this room?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sofa seats at the coffee table.

The two of you exchange polite smiles. He notices the envelope in your hands.

“Nothing less than what I’d expected, from a five star hotel,” Sukuna says as he takes the seat on the other side of the table.

“That’s great news.”

“Well then. I’ll get straight to the point,” you begin.

“Why don’t we get married, Sukuna?”

You call him by his name, for the first time. And additionally, you see his expression of surprise for the first time as well.

“...What?”

You give him a look that makes it obvious that you were expecting this kind of response.

Sukuna seems to still be processing the idea, hanging his head as he leans back against the sofa seat.

“...I understand that reaction. But I’m not saying this as a joke,” you tell him, holding back a chuckle from seeing his dumbfounded response.

“Have you ever heard of what a marriage of convenience is?” you ask.

“And? On what grounds are you asking someone you met a week ago to marry you? Even if it is out of convenience,” he questions, his real personality beginning to show itself to you.

“You’re like the last puzzle piece for my final picture. There’s a lot that I’d like to gain from you and I’m sure there’s a lot you want from me – isn’t that why you approached me at the bar?”

Sukuna regains his composure and narrows his eyes at you.

“Putting aside your needs for now…how can you be so sure about my demands? Enlighten me.”

“I did have a couple of guesses on what they could’ve been. A company that’s already at the peak of the casino industry. What exactly could you be missing?” you speak confidently.

“And my answer ended up being…reputation. Your numbers are consistent, but they’re not accumulating as much as you’d like them to, are they? Perhaps due to a lack of new members at your casinos. The ones that are already hooked may continue to spend money, but a flawed public image is preventing you from gaining new customers. Even a small shortcoming like that is enough to cause problems in the future.”

Sukuna has a fascinated grin that he covers with the palm of his hand. You’re… interesting.

“Which is presumably why you’d want to work with a company that is known for having a perfect reputation. I’m sure partnering up with me would improve it, albeit a little, just by association.”

“You have me backed into a corner,” Sukuna lies, running a hand through his hair at a languid pace.

“But that still doesn’t explain why we should have to get married does it?” he voices carefully.

"We recently finished remodelling our hotel wedding venues. I want to promote it in a more flamboyant manner. What better way than to get married myself?" 

An unlikely couple such as yourself and Sukuna would gain a lot of attention; especially from how he’s already well known by the public. You’ll create the grand facade that he’d ‘changed for the better’.

"You’re able to go as far as marriage for the sake of your business?" Sukuna asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look at him straight in the eyes, mouth set in a straight line, and arms crossed.

"Yes, I am."

Witnessing your sincere determination, Sukuna goes from slightly doubting your plans, to acknowledging that you have ambition worth recognising. You’re not very sane at all.

“Alright. Let’s say that’s fair enough. What else would you want from me beyond that?”

A glint shows up in your eyes, as if you’d been waiting for this question this whole time.

“...As the CEO of a casino company, you’d have a long list of top secret VIP customers.”

Sukuna immediately understands where this is heading towards.

“That I do.”

“Our hotels have been doing perfectly fine with our usual guests, but there’s been a bit of a decline with attaining new VIP members recently. My main goal is to snatch up a few from your list using, hopefully, a bit of your influence.”

He crosses his arms and falls silent for a few moments.

“Objectively speaking, having our companies collaborate would create a rift in Golden Rose’s image. But that’s something I’m willing to sacrifice if everything goes smoothly.”

“Is reputation the only benefit I’m getting from this marriage?”

“Why, of course not. Since it’s not new for hotels to have casinos near, or even inside them, I thought it’d be nice if we made a collaboration. As you would know - next to my main hotel, I own another building. We can renovate, and insert new slot machines as you see fit. Funded entirely by me.”

A spark of intrigue gleams over his eyes. Tempting offer indeed.

“I’ve written up a contract as reasonable as I could make it, outlining the details of our marriage, including a few rules and regulations, and what to do if we end up wanting to divorce, for whatever reason,” you say as you slide over the envelope towards him on the coffee table.

So she meant it when she said she was preoccupied this week… Sukuna thinks to himself. Writing up a contract takes quite a lot of energy, after all.

"I'll look forward to hearing back from you again."

"...Give me some time. I'll consider it," he finally tells you, leaning back and crossing his legs after much contemplation.

"Wonderful." You stand up from your seat and look down at him with a smile.

When you're a few steps to getting to the door, Sukuna speaks up again from behind you.

"Aw, leaving so soon? I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night here with me," he teases - with a smirk that you can hear in his voice. 

"...Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline. Have a good night."

He hears you leave, with the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Tch. What a prude way of saying no.”

Aren’t you a little too cold for someone who aims to be his lawful wife?

No matter - he’ll find one way or another to get under that awfully polite attitude of yours.

-

The contract is actually quite reasonable and fair for both parties, and Sukuna hates to admit so. You worked on this alone? Or maybe you had that stuck up of a secretary helping you behind the scenes.

Either way, upon having his own lawyer review it for him after carefully reading through it himself, he has decided that he will take you up on this offer - and participate in this marriage of convenience.

It makes things easier for him, after all. This will skip him a lot of steps, and you’ll be closer to his reach, making it simpler to play around with you as he pleases. Not to mention; the contract states that if the wedding doesn’t happen, all negotiations are off the table. Clever of you to make it an ‘all in or nothing’ type of agreement.

Today’s the day where he’d already arranged another meeting with you at one of his private restaurants, where he anticipates seeing your pretty face again, since it’s been a little over a week.

Uraume opens the car door for him, and he steps outside without a hitch.

He’s a little elated to find you already sitting inside, gazing out the window as you’re at the fancily decorated table. You’re dressed in a quite eloquent outfit, perfect for a day like this, where the petals are carried away from cherry blossom trees, even by the gentlest of breezes.

“How impolite of me to keep a lady waiting,” Sukuna says as he approaches you, “apologies for the late arrival.”

“Not at all. It’s a habit of mine to show up at least ten minutes before any appointment. You’re actually on time,” you tell him, looking at the watch on your wrist.

“...Quite the courteous habit to have.”

Sukuna’s private restaurant specialises in Japanese cuisine, which explained the various platters of sushi and sashimi that were soon getting placed onto the table, shortly after his arrival. He lets you take the first mouthful, and appears to be awaiting your opinion on the taste.

“This…is really good. I can tell the fish is fresh, and there’s a perfect amount of vinegar in the rice,” you comment, your chopsticks going for another one.

“I’m glad it’s to your taste. Nothing but the best for my fiancé.”

The term he uses catches you a little off guard, but you manage to laugh it off. Sukuna is very satisfied by the millisecond of a pause in your reaction. Perhaps you should’ve added the rule of no unnecessary flirting with the other party into your contract?

After the hearty meal, the table is cleared, and the contract is taken out and placed upon it, resting between the two of you.

“We’ve both come here to sign this, am I correct?” you reconfirm, pulling out a pen of yours, ready to draw up your signature.

“Indeed. We’ve reviewed it multiple times back and forth between us, I doubt there’s anything more to worry about.”

You pass it on over to him, after signing it swiftly. He does the same.

The both of you are now officially bound together, by law.

There’s a beautiful shade of pink outside that grasps your attention, every now and then. You’d forgotten the current season was spring – and like in every other year, the cherry blossoms are always there to remind you. This is a nice restaurant indeed.

“I hope you have the time to enjoy some tea with me, Y/N,” Sukuna says as he puts his pen away. It feels nice to hear someone call you by your name like that.

“Fortunately, I do have a few minutes to spare.”

“Enjoying the outside view?” he asks - placing his focus on you, rather than the window.

“Yes, actually. This view is…very lovely.”

You say it in a soft spoken voice, and your eyes mellow out in a way he doesn’t expect when you look out the window once again. He takes a mental note to bring you here a second time, once the next spring season arrives.

This tea time is spent very delightfully (to your surprise), for maybe the next ten minutes before the both of you need to eventually leave due to your busy schedules. Once standing up, you offer your hand to the man before you, with a smile. He takes your hand, that is so dainty and soft compared to his, and shakes it.

“Your hair is the same colour as those petals,” you say without thinking.

“I do get that a lot. I’d argue that I’ll always look better than any of those trees, however.”

“That’s some impressive confidence you have,” you retort, with a chuckle.

As you’re walking out of the restaurant alongside him, you remember something you’d forgotten to mention to him.

“The wedding will be in a month’s time. We’ll see each other a couple of times before then,” you state, looking up at him in the eyes.

“Excellent. Feel free to contact me whenever.”

“I actually prefer your normal attitude, rather than the one you’re using around me all the time,” you tell him truthfully.

“You mean my flirtatious advances on you?”

“No, you already do that now. I mean when you use your crude language, and speak in shorter sentences.”

You nonchalantly walk out of the door that he’s still holding open for you.

“Oh? ...You’re into that shit? Very unexpected, coming from someone like you,” he retorts with a smirk as he holds the door open for you.

“Yes, that’s much better. I’m happy to see that my future husband is the obedient type.”

Obedient–

He catches you giving one last glance at him, before getting inside of your car, with a cheeky smile on your face. Sukuna is stunned in an amused way, having been called obedient for the first time in his life. It should be making him angry, but he’s grinning instead. The urge to get back at you rises within him like wildfire.

This whole marriage thing with you is bound to be one hell of a ride.

-

“How are the wedding preparations going?” he asks on the phone.

The question comes while you’re inspecting the various invitation designs before you. You pick one of them up and flip to the other side.

“Very smoothly. You won’t have to lift a finger, as we promised.”

“That’s good to hear. It’s a shame, really. Would’ve liked to help pick out a wedding dress for you,” he says humourously.

“Certainly not. I imagine you’d pick an atrocious dress,” you tell him, listening to him chuckle.

“Not possible. All wedding dresses look the same anyway,” Sukuna dismisses.

You furrow your brows a little at his ignorance. Of course he’s the type to say that. 

“I’ll have to disagree. But pushing that aside for now,” you say, putting down the sample invitation card, “have you prepared the list of guests you’d like to invite for the ceremony?”

“I have. I’ll get Uraume to send the list to you soon.”

“Thank you. Well then, I wish you a good afternoon.”

You end the call sharply. 

Mildly irritated as he sits at the back of his car, Sukuna removes his phone from his ear and looks down at the screen with a raised eyebrow. He wishes you wouldn’t cut calls so abruptly like that. What is wrong with you?

“Pretentious,” he mutters, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He looks out his window, expressionlessly.

Amongst the number of people Sukuna plans to invite to the wedding, his mother and father aren’t a part of the list. But, surprisingly so, it’s the same for you too. They’re excluding the whole ‘walking the bride down the aisle’ as a result. He doesn’t care enough to ask you what happened to them – it’s none of his business, after all. It’s just a little strange to think about how both the bride and the groom will have absent seats for parents. 

The car suddenly feels a little stuffy for him. He rolls the window down a little bit, letting the outside breeze swirl inside, carrying the scent of the city.

And as for you – after having completed a large portion of the work needed to be done for the wedding, you’re now happily sitting at home with a glass of wine in your hand. In maybe around two weeks’ time, you’ll be a legally married woman. It feels a little surreal to think about.

Looking over at the wedding invitation card that has his and your name printed over it, your mind brings up the image of your parents. Oh, how they would’ve never approved of a man like him. You can’t help but let out a small, dry laugh.

…It’s all for the sake of the business. You promised them to do well. 

And you shall execute it– flawlessly.

-

Little inklings of dating rumours have already dispersed amongst the employees at both Malevolent Casino and Golden Rose Enterprise, having grown all the way back from the moment when Sukuna applied for the expensive VIP membership all too suddenly. That, and alongside the frequent ins and outs both you and Sukuna have been doing at each others’ offices have raised the suspicions of many. Countless friends and acquaintances have reached out, asking if it’s actually true. And to each one of them, you replied with a ‘yes’.

This is a perfect chain of events leading up to the marriage announcement. For someone who has quite a bit of media attention on him already due to past affairs, he is indeed the ideal candidate for the promotion of the hotel’s wedding services, as he’s bound to draw the gaze of a wider audience.

It’s rather amusing how many of them warned you, and discouraged your ‘relationship’ with Sukuna.

“He’s not like that at all. He treats me very well,” you responded to them, the best you could. 

And then, you sent out the wedding invitations, not long after.

You become terribly busy in the final week before the ceremony. Giving instructions to employees during the setup process of the venue, arranging the rings, selecting the perfect dress and suit, establishing a script for the vows, and organising the food for the event. Not to mention, there needs to be professional photographers present to capture everything beautifully, so the photos can be uploaded to the hotel website.

For the honeymoon – you reckoned it’d be best to go somewhere overseas, even if for only a few days – in order to prevent speculations that the two of you may not actually be in love. When asked if there was a particular country he wanted to go to for the honeymoon, Sukuna replied with “I couldn’t care less where we go.”

So you took it upon yourself to select somewhere most convenient for you.

Ironically enough, you barely met the man during this final week, as you were too preoccupied with running around and making sure everything was perfect.

And now, here you are, dolled up in a stunning wedding gown, waiting for Sukuna to finish getting dressed up. You can hear the guests buzzing outside, anticipating the appearance of the bride and groom. 

A whistle resounds in front of you. Looking up, you see him in the polished suit that you had picked out for him. Alongside that, his appropriately slicked back hair makes him look like quite the handsome gentleman. 

“You look ravishing, my dear wife,” he comments, giving a smug, lopsided grin.

“Not your wife quite yet. We’re yet to be officiated,” you respond back with a smile.

“No need to mind the details. We’re about to be, anyway.”

He offers up his arm, and you’re quick to put your hand around it.

The two of you stand underneath an opulent arch, decorated with countless delicate roses. As the officiant makes his speech, you and Sukuna face each other hand in hand, exchanging gazes that contain nothing but false affection.

“The Bride and Groom shall now make their vows.”

The crowd watches intently, falling under a noticeable hush.

“On this joyous day, I, Ryomen Sukuna, will take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded wife,” his voice booms brilliantly around this almost ethereal-looking wedding venue.

“I vow to bring forth happiness and fulfilment to our most tender, yet unshakable connection we share – and offer up my whole heart to you – as I shall be the valiant protector of our betrothal.”

He executes the speech with great accuracy and enthusiasm, which you are fairly impressed by. You almost let out a giggle from it, knowing that he is most undoubtedly rolling his eyes internally at the words that had just come out from his mouth.

“And I, (Y/N) (L/N), take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded husband,” you mirror, letting your voice ring out just as he had let his.

“I vow to wholeheartedly embrace and value you as my other half, devoting myself to our most cherished relationship – where I shall tend to the light that our love emits, and treasure it endlessly.”

All of these fancy words - if only everyone knew that they were nothing but empty promises. Nevertheless, finally being able to say them aloud relieves a great weight from your shoulders. It’s almost over.

“You may now seal those promises with a kiss.”

Your eyes widen for a moment.

…You’d forgotten all about the very highlight of all wedding ceremonies. The kiss. 

Looking to Sukuna with slight uncertainty, you wonder if you should be the one to initiate it–

He flashes you a gentle smirk. You’d overlooked this part, hadn’t you? He seems to ask.

He pulls you closer to him by snaking his arm around your waist without hesitation, and firmly presses his lips against yours. Having your worries been alleviated, you close your eyes during the kiss. The crowd cheers and a thunderous clap takes over the air around you.

The tips of your tongues brush up against each other, before he pulls away at the appropriate timing, leaving behind a very miniscule and delicate sense of disappointment from having it end so quickly.

The two of you make your way down the steps and walk through the aisle for the grand exit - stepping on the extravagant white carpet that leads to the outside world. Beautiful pink petals are showered down from the ceiling at this perfect timing - and the crowd continues their cheers tirelessly. From the corner of your eye, you inspect that the photographers are doing their jobs in a satisfactory manner.

From the way you and Sukuna bring up your smiles, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say that the two of you are excellent actors.

The path leads all the way to the sleek limousine that awaits the new couple.

You’re mildly surprised to see that it’s raining outside. The weather forecast this morning hadn’t said anything about rain this afternoon. Different hues of grey adorn the sky – the clouds are seemingly vehement on concealing its true colour today. As each of your respective secretaries open up a large umbrella to shelter the two of you, you wonder in dismay. Is this supposed to be some kind of omen?

Getting inside the vehicle, you confirm that the driver is Ijichi, and feel the tension from your body disappear in an instant, now being able to settle down a little more naturally.

“My face hurts from all that smiling,” Sukuna grunts beside you.

“I can say the same,” you agree, caressing your own cheek with your hand.

The limousine will drop by both of your homes, where each of you will get changed into more comfortable clothing before taking off for the airport. Luggage had already been packed prior to the wedding. You’re exhausted, and you could say that you’re pretty envious of Sukuna’s relaxed state that you see once you come back down after changing.

“You must be tired,” he suddenly comments, eyeing you up once you’ve seated yourself comfortably, putting your seatbelt on.

“What makes you say that?” you ask him.

He reaches his hand out to your head, where he gingerly takes something up. When he opens his palm for you to see it, you realise that it’s a petal from the wedding.

“Forgot to check the mirror?” Sukuna asks rhetorically with a cocky undertone.

You let out something like a helpless laugh.

“Thank you for picking up on it.”

The ride to the airport is entirely silent, with you and Sukuna quietly staring out into the windows, watching the scenery outside. As much as you would’ve liked to fall asleep to the softly orchestrated patter of rain against the car’s exterior…you just couldn’t seem to.

After arriving at the airport, you thank Ijichi for his extra service, and promise that his bonus will be sent to his account very shortly. Then, the two of you are guided to the boarding entrance, where you’re seated in the elite economy class.

The plane is headed for Paris, France. A little cliche and overdone, but it’s a place you’d been to most frequently, as your parents had taken you there often for business purposes. The ride goes without any issues, as Sukuna had let out the occasional yawn beside you, before slipping on a silk eye mask and going for a nap. He managed to wake himself up a little before the plane landed.

Upon your arrival at the grand hotel in the bustling city of Paris, the two of you are booked into the same room but with separate bedrooms. The luggage is handled carefully, as the bellman guides both of you to the room.

“I was thinking we could use this opportunity,” he says as he walks close beside you, “to spend the night like how all newlyweds do.”

The fatigue has worn your usual polite attitude off, and you have to roll your eyes at him.

He thoroughly enjoys getting under your skin.

“Quite the charming suggestion. Too bad that I have no energy for that right now.”

“Are you implying that you might in the future?”

“...Think of it as you will, Sukuna.”

The moment you enter, you drag your feet over to your own room.

“I’m going to sleep straight away. Feel free to spend the day how you wish,” you tell him, before going inside and closing the door behind you.

Sukuna has a little bit more energy to burn off, since he took a long nap on the plane – so he decides to step out and enjoy the outside city while he’s here.

It’s not as if it’s his first time in Paris - he’d done a lot of travelling back in his younger days, when he used to be absolutely drunk on the amount of money he was making. He already knows which restaurants and shops are to his taste, and since it’s been a while, he decides he’ll pass some time by revisiting those same places.

He very much enjoys his independent shopping – particularly that feeling of satisfaction at the end, when he’s gained a handful of carefully selected goods. The first place he drops by is a luxurious shoe store, where he picks the pairs that fancy him most, and an employee is immediately ready to come down and help him with fitting them on.

By the end of his little trip, Sukuna’s accompanying assistant has his arms full with various shopping bags, filled with new suits, shoes, expensive cologne… let’s just say that he’s very keen about maintaining his appearance for self satisfaction. And each item was carefully chosen from the designer brands that Sukuna favours greatly.

His bags are dropped off to his room by that same assistant. Before he goes back, Sukuna heads off to the hotel’s bar, where he plans to spend some quiet time with a drink to finish off the day.

This hotel’s well established bar is quite suited to his liking, he thinks, as skims his surroundings, languidly making his way through the dimly lit, atmospheric area.

What he orders tonight at the bar counter is a boulevardier cocktail – being in the mood to have something bittersweet on his taste buds. He’s barely had a chance to take a sip of the drink, when someone all too abruptly claims the empty seat to his right.

“I’ll have a dry martini, please.”

The phrase makes Sukuna whip his head to the side, being mildly pleased to think that it might be the person who he assumes it is.

…He finds that it’s a woman he doesn’t know of at all, staring back at him with a sly smile. He doesn’t visibly show any disappointment, but he does face the front again, before taking a gulp out of the crimson-coloured liquid that resembles the hue of his eyes.

“What, am I not pretty enough for you?” the girl asks in a playful manner.

“...I wouldn’t say that. You��re not too bad to look at,” Sukuna responds honestly.

He entertains her for a little while, doing the bare minimum to keep up with the conversation. She seems so eager to escalate things with him, and he considers it, seeing as he’s got nothing better to do. The contract does state that such relations are permitted for both parties, so long as it’s outside of the media’s attention.

There’s lots of casual touching going on, whether it’s brushing her hand over his, or placing them onto his shoulder or arm, being very blatant in the way she flirts.

The woman hovers inches away from his face, and he stares down at her while he makes some last minute decisions. His gaze falls down to her lips.

“Well? What do you say?” she urges him for an answer, leaning closer to him.

“We could head up to my room and…keep each other some company.”

Just as she thinks she’s gotten him on board, Sukuna grabs her face and pushes her away, deeming that it’s too bothersome for all of that tonight. She pouts right after he lets go of her.

“And I thought we were on the same page… can I ask why?”

He downs the rest of his drink in one go before showing the girl the ring on his left hand.

“At least pay for my drink!” she exclaims as a last resort.

“I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

“Wha- are you going already?!” she questions, thoroughly disappointed. He ignores it, and is already taking steps towards the exit.

With a hand in his pocket, he stops in his tracks, and turns slightly to the side to give her one final glance.

“Too bad. I don’t buy drinks for just anyone.”

Sukuna then heads back up to his room, wondering if you’ll be awake by the time he arrives.

When he’s back inside however, you seem to still be in your deep slumber, seeing as there’s no sign of life around the lounge and no sounds coming from your room. Even for someone as capable as you, managing to prepare everything for that extravagant wedding must’ve been arduous work. He’s in no place to feel irritated at you. It impresses him – how you arranged everything within a limited amount of time, while also fulfilling your duties as a CEO.

Sukuna takes his jacket off and then begins to loosen his tie. After a day of shopping, nothing is better than taking a hot bath to relax the muscles. He can make use of that built in jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, and freshen himself up.

It doesn’t take long for the steam to begin rising from the water as the tub slowly fills up, bubbling up at the sides. He makes himself comfortable towards the edge of the tub, where he lets out a sigh and leans back - the water stopping at the comfortable level, being his chest. He slicks his moistened hair back, and something gets caught in his fingers as he does so. 

Looking down at his hand, he sees that it’s a small, pink petal. It must’ve blended in well in his hair from the wedding, this entire time. Thinking of you, a sinister smirk makes its way upon his features.

How reassuring it is, to have a wife so capable. You’ll certainly be a useful asset for him to utilise in the future.

Perhaps a little difficult to crack open, but that’ll only make the end result all the more rewarding.

-

In the following morning, Sukuna wakes up to some noises outside of his room, and he figures that it’s you walking about after sleeping for almost a whole day, if that’s even possible. Doing a great yawn, he does a quick self-check in the mirror, and proceeds to step out of his room.

You’re latching a watch onto your wrist when the door to Sukuna’s room opens up, revealing the man with his hair down, wearing some loose, comfortable clothing. Having woken up very early, you had taken the time to get dressed after that well-deserved sleep you had.

“Good morning,” you tell him, while checking the tightness of the watch on your wrist.

Damn right he is. After sleeping for a day straight, you’re gonna ignore him again and go about your own business?

“Going somewhere?” he asks curtly, without greeting you back.

“Yes, in about two hours or so,” you say, wondering why he seems mildly irritated towards you today.

“I’m going to a piano concert. I doubt you’ll be interested, but you're welcome to join me.”

A piano concert? Shit sounds boring as hell. Of course you’d be interested in that.

Being invited under these premises… like being offered leftovers… he can’t help but feel a little displeased.

“You have a spare ticket?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I always buy the seats at either side of mine. I’d rather not sit next to strangers.”

“I’ll go. I have nothing better to do around here anyway,” Sukuna says, with a voice that sounds like he’s doing you a big favour. Maybe he’ll take this chance to learn a thing or two more about you.

“Wonderful. I’ve also ordered room service for us, so we can have breakfast together if you’d like?”

That seems to have appeased him a bit, which forms a little smile on your face.

Perhaps around an hour and a half later, the two of you leave the hotel to head over to the auditorium, which requires only a short walk. 

Sukuna trails behind you as you stride over towards your seats, where you’re able to make yourself comfortable. From this location in the auditorium, you catch sight of people clambering around towards their seats below. There’s still a bit of time left before the show begins.

He falls quiet for a few seconds, which makes you give him a discreet little glance.

“I’m surprised you actually came all the way out here with me,” you tell him, in order to strike up some sort of conversation.

“I figured that even a dull piano recital would be better than being stuck in my room all day,” Sukuna responds with nonchalance, crossing his legs.

“You wouldn’t know that it’s dull yet, would you? It hasn’t even started yet.”

“I guess you’re correct. You did prove me wrong before, after all.”

You make a quizzical expression at him, and a sly smirk creeps up onto his features.

“Your wedding dress. It was unique. Beautiful, even,” he admits.

A moment of realisation later, you let out a small chuckle.

He’s a little disappointed by that response. He’d like to catch you looking all flustered, one of these days.

“I’m glad you were able to learn something from our wedding,” you tell him.

“And of course,” he continues, “the one wearing it, even more so.”

“Why, thank you very much. You looked quite stunning as well. I knew that suit would compliment you nicely.”

The conversation is cut off when the concert begins with the lights dimming, as a pianist makes their way onto the large stage.

More than the music itself, Sukuna was finding that his attention was garnering towards your reactions more. You seem to be enjoying yourself.

…Though it wasn’t long before he was beginning to zone out a little, being easily disengaged with the concert, as he isn’t exactly one for piano music.

By the end of the show, you see that he is very eager to leave the auditorium. You can’t help the childish way the corners of your lips rise in response. He’s quite easy to read, at least when it comes to these smaller moments.

“Why don’t you get up on stage yourself next time? That’d be something more worthwhile to watch,” he says, bringing an image of you sitting before the large instrument up in his mind.

“You must be an avid fan of the piano,” Sukuna says with a grunt, as they leave the bustling area.

“Only casually, every now and then. Out of everything I was required to learn as a child, I liked the piano the most.”

“I’m flattered that you think so. But I prefer listening over playing it myself.”

Your words erase the image out of his mind.

The rest of the “honeymoon” goes by without much happening between the two of you, only quietly sharing meals together or the occasional drinking session; though neither of you were able to get drunk - due to being a tad too cautious around each other.

-

Your first day back at the office felt quite refreshing.

Everyone was busy, and the hotel’s wedding venues especially; as you had predicted, there was an overflow of requests coming in from couples who had seen the photos of your marriage on the website. They did come out very beautifully - almost like something out of a scene in a film. It was worth paying those photographers the good money.

At your desk, you scroll through the various article titles that have been published on several gossip sites – featuring the topic of your wedding mainly focusing on Sukuna.

[Sukuna, a CEO notorious for breaking the hearts of many actresses, gets married?]

[CEO of Malevolent Casino settles down for owner of Golden Rose Enterprise. A match made in heaven?]

[A womaniser reformed, CEO of Malevolent Casino enters wedlock!]

Oh, how you laughed until your stomach hurt. You can imagine the kind of face he’d make if he read any of these titles. The overwhelming attention is even better than you had expected. You even have a few interview requests from some of these gossip magazines. Doing a few of them wouldn’t hurt, would it?

The two of you have even set up a shared home, put together by Sukuna himself, just in case there comes a moment when you need it. Though you weren’t very happy about the design choices he’d made, when furnishing the place. For now, an agreement was made that living under the same roof together was not necessary.

Later in the day, you receive a call from the man himself.

“So, are you enjoying the fruits of our labour?” he asks as soon as you pick up.

“Yes, it truly is satisfying. Getting married at our venues seems to have become a little trend now,” you tell him proudly.

“Good for you. I hope you’re remembering your part of the deal, however,” he states with warning, “I’m yet to see any of those fruits growing on my end.”

You chuckle a little at his words.

“Of course I do. I have something in mind that will help with that,” you reassure him.

“But before we go into any detail for it…” you say, as you read over the email for an interview request on your computer screen, “let’s do one interview, about our marriage.”

You smile as you hear Sukuna make a little noise of grimace from his end.

-

“This better be worth doing,” Sukuna mutters, as he walks alongside you in the corridor, towards where the interview will take place.

“I wouldn’t suggest doing anything that’s a waste of time,” you tell him with confidence.

His expression of indignance doesn’t change.

“After all, it’s a good opportunity to have this attention on us last a little longer,” you add on.

“I already figured. Aren’t you mooching off of my image a bit too much?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was thinking we could start the planning for that collaboration of ours soon. Wouldn’t that be to your liking?”

That seems to quell his discontent, for now. You open the door at the end of the corridor.

“The two of you have stirred the media up quite a bit through your sudden marriage! Please tell us your story on how you first met each other.”

The interviewer speaks to you and Sukuna with a bright smile, gesturing politely towards the vague direction between you both. Of course, you had prepared a little bit of a script for both yourself and him, but he’d brushed it off, saying that he was able to wing something like this easily.

“Well, our first meeting was-”

“It’s rather cliche, but we met at a bar,” he cuts you off abruptly. It catches you off-guard. You only hope that he won’t say anything unnecessary.

“I was the one that approached her, after catching her gaze from across where she sat,” he continues, crossing his legs. The excited interviewer types away on her laptop, recording his words.

“My! That does sound romantic. Please do give us more details.”

Sukuna does an excellent job at mixing the truth with his lies, and surprisingly enough, you’re the one sitting in silence as he does most of the talking while you act as backup to his story. It’s even better than the script you’d made up originally. He’s clearly picked up the skill to smoothly manipulate his stories.

“Our last question in the interview is directed towards the both of you. What compelled the two of you to choose each other for marriage? What do you love most about one another?”

A question that wasn’t on the damn script. They always love to sneak a few extras in like this. And technically that was two questions, not one. Sukuna is about to express his displeasure towards the interviewer, but you speak up before he does.

“I appreciated his very forward way of approaching me. How he’s difficult to read, granting him a more mysterious appeal. Arguably arrogant at times, but rightfully so, considering how clever and charming he is. For one second I was only a little intrigued by him, but then in the other…he’d suddenly become the apple of my eye.”

How do you say all of that without batting an eyelash? Part of him wonders if you perhaps meant any of it, even just a little.

“That is wonderful! I understand why you’d be infatuated. What about you, Mr. Ryomen? Did you also feel equally as captivated?”

He certainly won’t lose to you.

“...But of course. Her strong sense of independence. How competent she is. She mentioned that I’m difficult to read - but that hardly seems to be the case. She reads me like a book, and I find that so interesting,” Sukuna looks at you with a smirk and naturally places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly.

“It had been a while since I’d chased after someone rather than be chased – but that only made our relationship all the more sweeter.”

You’re impressed with how willingly he shot back at you, with his impromptu speech. The interviewer, oblivious, swoons as the two of you exchange smiles.

“There were nothing but satisfying answers during this session. Thank you so much for your participation!”

The interview is wrapped up nicely, and the two of you walk out after shaking hands with her.

Your insincere wordings are sickeningly sweet, like caramel, clinging onto him with its viscous texture.

“The apple of your eye, huh?” he goads, eyeing your response.

“Yes, my dear husband. The apple of my eye,” you repeat, with a relaxed demeanor.

“Very endearing,” he says – with venom in his tone.

A car awaits outside for the two of you, its engine already on and ready to drive off.

“While we’re here, perhaps we should talk about the event I’ve set up for us,” you tell him, fastening your seatbelt.

Sukuna opens his eyes instantaneously. He’s going to do… what?

“Go on, I’m listening,” he says, crossing his arms and resting his head back with his eyes closed.

“We’re going to do some volunteer work at an aged care facility,” you say bluntly, paying no mind to his dismissive posture.

Judging from that reaction, apparently not.

“Are you fucking around with me?”

“No? Actually, I was half expecting that you would’ve seen this coming.”

“This is still only phase one – improving your reputation. I’m even organising a few journalists to publish an article for us,” you tell him unapologetically.

He looks comically displeased.

“There’s a lot of guilt that follows when it comes to a hobby like gambling. It’s already considered a taboo, but with a company holding an unfavourable image like yours, newcomers are hesitant. Our partnership isn’t enough to put all of that behind,” you explain.

“And if I said no?”

“This isn’t for me more than it is for you.”

“You must be joking. How is taking care of some old fossils beneficial to me?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a ploy,” you start.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, despite knowing that you’re correct on that.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Addicts are constantly looking for excuses to be addicted. What’ll happen if they believe you made this company for a good cause?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he scoffs, returning to his former attitude. “And I’m guessing you expect me to throw in a donation there too.”

Sukuna grunts with annoyance.

His aloofness resembles the behaviour of an unhappy child – but you don’t dare tell him that aloud.

“It’ll only be a few hours of work. Get a couple of good photos in and we’ll be done,” you say, sympathetically.

“How reassuring.” He doesn’t bother to look your way again.

-

Sukuna is used to doing things forcefully. If there’s something that he wants, he’ll pluck it out of the hands of another, regardless of if it’ll affect that person or not. If there’s a crowd of people around him, he’ll push and shove them out of his way, not caring whether someone gets trampled or not. And if there’s anyone that inconveniences him… he doesn’t hesitate to kick them down, until they’re crying on their knees for forgiveness.

And yet…. And yet…

Here he is, standing behind a table, wearing a tacky apron over his dashing suit as he dishes out soup for an old geezer, using a ladle. There’s a smile on his face, but a vein popping out on his forehead. The littlest inconvenience could make him lash out at somebody here.

He pours soup into the tray for the next elderly woman that is in line.

He wordlessly gives her a third scoop.

“More please,” she asks of him.

“Alright, sure,” he tells her, doing his best to sound friendly. Another scoop.

“Again,” she says.

“I want more!”

Her tray is already filled to the brim with soup, any more and she’ll end up spilling everything on her way to a table.

Sukuna is about to lose it.

She complacently walks off to find a seat somewhere, holding her tray.

“Ma’am, if you get any more, you’ll end up spilling it over. You can always come back for seconds. Promise we’ll still be here,” you butt in, before he blows over a fuse.

“Oh… alright then.”

You can barely contain the sigh that nearly spills out of your lungs.

“If you explain it to them clearly, they usually listen,” you tell him with a low voice, after she’s gone.

“Too bad I don’t wanna explain shit,” he very graciously responds.

Shortly after, you and Sukuna get your own portions of the same meals given to the elderly for lunch.

He kisses his teeth loudly and chucks his spoon down onto his tray, before getting up abruptly.

“Everything is lukewarm,” he comments, frowning.

“Can’t be helped. It’s a safety precaution, in case they burn themselves.”

You clearly note how the direction he heads towards is not where the restrooms are.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom,” he lies without hesitation.

Fuck this whole event. Fuck this place. He considers leaving for a moment, but is quick to discard that idea, knowing he’ll hear no end of it from you afterwards. Only a few more hours to go, anyway. He steps outside, taking a quick scan of the area to make sure nobody is around before pulling a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket.

Lodging it between his lips, he uses his lighter against the end, but it seems to fail at producing any flames, adding on to his frustration.

He ignores you, because at this point, he knows nothing nice will come out of his mouth if he starts talking now. Why isn’t this goddamn thing working?

“Useless piece of shit,” he mutters, continuing his frantic attempts at the sparkwheel.

“Smoking is prohibited in this area,” a voice that he knows all too well comes from behind.

You stand beside him and hold something up with your hand. He sees that it’s a lighter.

He lights his cigarette, returns your lighter and then takes a big puff. He looks more noticeably relaxed.

“...You smoke?” he asks, taking it from your hand.

“Used to,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

“Just this once. Make it quick,” you tell him, looking around for people.

He lets out a short, curt hmph and blows another gust of smoke out.

“So what did you follow me all the way out here for? To babysit me?” Sukuna asks, still being quite moody about the situation.

“Looks like you already know. I thought it’d be best to keep an eye on you.”

He was going to shoot back with another snarky response, but a couple of voices could be heard coming from somewhere nearby. Before he can say a word on it, you’re suddenly grabbing his hand and dragging him away, elsewhere. The two of you end up in the area behind the building.

“Feel better now?” you say.

“Barely. Let’s finish this and go home already,” he grunts, dropping the cigarette butt onto the ground and putting it out with his foot.

“You should probably pick that up.”

All because of that… he thinks. Sukuna watches as you peer around the place, seeing if anyone is around again. A smirk slowly crawls up onto his face.

“Why the hell did we need to run? We could’ve just gone back in,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“If they approached us, they would’ve smelled the smoke. You still reek of tobacco.”

“You sure that’s the only reason? Dragging me all the way here. By the hand, not to mention.”

He corners you against the wall behind you, trapping you between his arms.

“Who knows, I might even behave a little more if you help me relieve some stress,” he continues, looking down at you with sultry eyes. You don’t look flustered in the least, which kind of irks him.

To his confusion, you grab something out of your pocket. It’s packaged in plastic, and you make quick work to unwrap it.

His eyes then widen, when you grab his face and slip something inside his mouth, pushing it past his lips. Swiping his tongue over it, he realises it’s a mint lolly.

“Stop joking around, and chew on this instead. Maybe that’ll pipe you down,” you tell him, as you slip out from his trap by ducking underneath his arms. “And it’ll help get rid of the smell, while it’s at it.”

“Come. We’re going back inside.”

His eyes follow you as you begin walking back already without him. He even considers spitting this lolly down to the ground. But he doesn’t.

Sukuna was very dismayed once they had gotten back. They found that lunch break was over and there were dishes to be done. By them.

He gnaws on the lolly as he shoves the last tray into the dishwasher. It gets shut, and with the press of a button, it begins its work. Turning around, he sees you at the sink, manually washing some dishes up, because there’s only so much that a dishwasher can contain.

“Look at you, doing such a good job. You should do this professionally,” he comments, coming up from behind. He really has nothing serious to say today.

Your flat reply kills his playful banter immediately, and he can’t help but narrow his eyes as the last of the lolly melts away in his mouth. He aggressively puts on some rubber gloves and pushes you aside at the sink.

“Mind lending a hand?” you ask him, without looking back.

“I don’t know if I feel like helping.”

“Alright - don’t, then.”

There’s a smile that blooms on your face when you look at him in this moment, and it’s genuine, which is kind of rare, coming from you. Your reaction makes the dishes worth doing for just a bit, at the very least. He thinks.

“We’ll take years to get back home at your pace. Not doing it for you, so don’t misunderstand.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

Not long later, someone comes along inside – the same old lady that had asked for extra soup from Sukuna earlier on. He’s never been more appalled to see someone again.

“You missed this one!” she says, holding up a dirty spoon.

She approaches slowly, but somehow misses a step and stumbles a little, causing the spoon to smear over Sukuna’s suit, just below the shoulder area.

“Oh… dearie me. My legs don’t work the way they used to,” the woman mutters, looking down at her limbs. After dropping the spoon off in the sink, she pats him on the back.

“Sorry, young man,” she says, before trudging away again.

The two of you stand in silence, with Sukuna having a darkened expression on his face.

Your stifled laughter breaks it, and he whips around to see you enjoying this shitty situation.

“That hag…” he mutters, popping out a vein again on his forehead.

He hears another chuckle from you.

He’s left alone with his simmering anger for a few moments, until you come back holding a packet of wet wipes. Adjusting his position by grabbing his shoulders, you begin wiping away the…remnants of what was on the spoon from his clothes. He grimaces with disgust.

“Quit laughing! Fuck’s sake, I’m gonna leave-”

“Wait here,” you cut him off, degloving yourself.

“Alright then, as you wish.”

“You wore a dark colour today, so it should be fine.”

“Fine? Nothing will be fine until I get back at that old witch.”

“Don’t be like that to a frail old woman. I’ll buy you a new suit if it bothers you so much.”

“...Forget it. I can buy my own suits without your help,” he grumbles, getting back to the dishes.

After wrapping up the day with the remaining formalities, you and Sukuna exit the facility, into the car park. You crack another smile when he immediately takes his jacket off and chucks it at Uraume, who catches it gracefully, being accustomed to this sort of behaviour.

“Get it cleaned thoroughly. For now, I want it out of my sight,” he says sternly, loosening his tie. He wants to go home and shower. Never coming back to this godforsaken place again.

Just a few days later, the finalised draft of the article that is to be published online is sent to your email. It mentions the volunteer work you and Sukuna had done during the day, and also talks briefly about the generous donation that was given to the facility – just the way you’d requested them to. Sukuna won’t be too happy about the photos that show him wearing that apron, but it’s a well worth sacrifice to make. It's during these times, where you’re grateful for the connections you have with the media. You send them the approval email in response.

Once the article is published, you forward the link for Sukuna to see.

He skims through the blocks of uninteresting text on the site, and abruptly stops scrolling when he gets to the photos that have been added in.

There are key moments that had been photographed; when they were serving the food, when they were helping with the dishes, and when they shook hands with the one in charge of that facility. But the image that stands out to him the most, is the one taken when they were manually washing some trays together. 

His own face isn’t visible because he has his back to the camera, but your genuine smile, as you’re looking at him, can be seen clear as day. 

“The photographer deserves a raise,” he speaks to himself.

When’s the next time he’ll ever get an expression like that out of you again?

…He shuts his laptop screen down. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s not here to try and make you happy, after all.

-- To be continued --

Masterlist

[tigers1o1]

HELLO HELLO

Ignore the fact that this is a day late shfbfisnfogn

Are you a fan of Fools Gold, the FNC fake dating / college au? Written by yours truly? Do you like winning stuff? Do you have any at all interest in art or tattoo design?

Oh boy do I have just the thing for you.

Yesterday was Fools Gold’s one year anniversary, and as a little celebration, I wanted to host a tattoo design contest!! So if this interests you lemme plop down some rules/guides

The designs must be related to Fools Gold in some way

Limited to 2 designs per person

Just go ham, there are no other explicit rules at the moment. If you have an idea, go for it

Post your designs to #FoolsGold1o1 (and that’s the letter o in 1o1, NOT a zero) so that they can be entered (and if you’re worrying about it showing up in the hashtag, you can send them to me in an ask or in DMs just to be sure I saw it :>

Now you may be wondering: how is this contest going to be judged? And what does the winner get?

I’ll get to that first question in a moment but the winner doesn’t necessarily get anything personally. I, however, will get the winning design tattooed. That’s right. The winners art will permanently be tattooed into the author of Fools Gold themselves’ skin. (Not for a few months, like probably closer to march or April but you get the idea)

As for how it will be judged, I’m not going to have any voting or anything like that, or even a grading Rubric lmao. Since this is so subjective and something that will be going on my skin, I’m just going to be picking the one I like the best. I don’t want to influence how you design anything, but I will say that I tend to like fine line symbolism work more than most other styles but AGAIN, please just go for it if you have an idea that you like. You might surprise me :>

[not-goldy]

Thank you for your answer, I get it on some level. I’ve listened to their music for a while now but am new to this whole shipping thing, and it’s a wild ride for sure. Out of interest, which songs do people think are about JM? Apart from their actual song Friends? Why does part of me think that if this is the case maybe Tae needs new inspiration for his work or something. Someone of his own to love. He didn’t write he album though did he? It’s a crazy world out there I guess I didn’t release that a member would fuel the shipping wars, so wow if he does that.

It depends on how delusional one is. Could be a few or all of them if you're deranged 🤷🏾

I like to think of myself as moderately delusional so I stick to the basics.

You can check out his song about writing a letter to the moon which was inspired by a time he was alone in the park with Jimin late into the night

From 4'Oclock.

Other than the setting and moon references, he actually ever did write a letter to Jimin which he cried while reading it to him. He poured out his heart in that letter. Here, read it and cry

And theres one song he complained he wrote with the intention of singing it withJimin but a producer thought putting Jimin on it would be gay due to the lyrics.

Don't want to talk about the others cos it may sound controversial but do have a listen for yourself. And be mindful of the Jimin "symbolisms" or at least I like to call them that.

Whenever he talks about the moon in his songs we make the connection to Jimin- its obvious now due to JMs moon tattoos but there was a time people thought that was reaching.

The moonchild is Jimin. And it's not far fetched cos V is the same person who shared fan art of Jimin with the moon tats that he's currently spotting and all. Meaning he understands the connection between JM and the moon.

This has nothing to do with his songs but he used to complain a lot about a certain member gatekeeping Jimin to himself and not allowing him and Jimin to hang out. So for me when this theme recurrs in his music I feel he's alluding to Jimin cos why not dudes a menace🤣

Let's give Tae some credit. Don't blindly buy into the hateful rhetorics people spew about him.

He exposed the company for dragging their feet before allowing JM to debut. Exposed them for their homophobia towards Jimin. If anyone moves funny with Jimin trust him to expose them one way or the other. I'll actually bet my life on this.

Perhaps you should look into their friendship. V can be chaotic but he's loved Jimin so hard too and when he says he loves Jimin the most I don't think he's lying .

Jimin has a special place in his heart. Perhaps because he says Jimin was the one who showed up and out for him when his granny passed. I think he's going to be eternally grateful to JM for that.

Don't hate on Tae or Judge him based on his quirks. He's not one to fake his feelings so sometimes when he's annoyed with Jimin you can pick up on that energy. It doesn't mean he's evil. He just have bad days too.

Unfortunately the Fandom isn't as forgiving and would tear him apart for the least funny feelings towards Jimin.

They are friends.they are allowed to fight and make up. We shouldn't hold that over their heads when they "fight" argue or have a misunderstanding. Leave them room and space within their friendship to be ghetto with eachother. What matters is the bond they share the growth they experience as friends and how pure they try to be with eachother.

They are a work in progress