#anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE

[theminecraftbee]

okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

[fitzrove]

Shamelessly stolen from seeing it on someone else's blog... Create a fanfic tropes tier list

Here's mine:

Some thoughts under the cut xD

All of these come with the caveat that it has to be well-written, basically. The older I get the less patience I have for stuff that's low-effort or just not to my taste hshhd. However, I see the tiers as something where I can pretty easily be convinced to read fic with tier S tropes, whereas getting me to enjoy a tier D fic would be difficult... Anyway, comments on individual tropes:

pwp - The best kind is where it's unapologetic kinky sex but a somewhat plausible scenario that's deeply in-character (or at least tries to be) >:))

a/b/o - This is a very very mixed bag for me... Contrary to what many people say, I don't actually enjoy plotty longfics (or the idea of reading longfics) talking about the societal aspects/worldbuilding implications of it. Also, the more focus there is on um... animal traits.... the less into it I am HFDHFHHJ. BUT I've sometimes liked the work of mandarin language todolf oneshot fanfic writers on ao3... I have no idea what the fuck is going on half of the time because google translate is imperfect, but those sure are some Fics with Stuff Happening in them xDD my favourite ones are rudolf x stephanie ones though because they're pretty much the only rudolf x stephanie femdom fics out there.........

soulmate au - I know this is super controversial for how it portrays relationships, but I actually find it okay :D When I read them I always interpret it as taking place in a much more deterministic world than our own... and I actually think that pure angst fics about the premise are rather interesting too. But I do think it has to be done quite well to work!

Royalty au - I'm such a whore about historical research so this has the potential to really irritate me xDD And for my current main fandom activities it's redundant... But idk, it's fine I think.

Fluff - This is one I've changed my mind on quite a bit over the years, namely in terms of actually kind of disliking pure fluff nowadays. I really prefer hurt/comfort and other fics where there are some stakes at play, or fics where the "fluff" is actually straight up emotional abuse HSDHDSHDHFSH (it's ok you can say todolf<33). It's just a lot more exciting to have setup + payoff vs pure fluff. I don't really experience the urge to read fluff fic as a response to the original media being emotionally charged/sad, I want fix-it fics to start from the standpoint of that negative emotion and have ups and downs before getting to the happy ending!

Crossover - hate crossovers where characters from multiple unrelated media interact, do sometimes enjoy crossovers where characters from y are in the universe of x (or experience a phenomenon from x). I mean, I've written a tdv au ahshshsh so I can't complain too much xD

Pregnancy fic, baby fic - no. This is a very hard if not impossible sell for me. I've written a longfic where the main characters have kids during it, but I never focused on the pregnancy and baby parts per se. I just don't like it haha

High school au, fairytale au, college au, coffee shop au, amnesia fic - I do NOT understand the appeal of any of these lmao

Humor, crack fic - Has to be done really well to work and most of the time it just doesn't for me ajdjjsjd. Humor is so personal and individual, and a conscious attempt to be funny as the main point of a fic falls flat so easily...... I like witty writing, but crack fic per se doesn't work for me unless it's crack treaten extremely seriously (implausible tropes and scenarios can be fun!! Buuut I do have pretty high standards for suspension of disbelief hshsdjdj. So it needs a lot of work put into it basically)

[no1sharkenthusaist]

! hsr headcannons for several characters ! [modern au]

♪ In-ter-net-o ya-me-ro ♪!

Y u m i - c h a n i s n o w o n l i n e !

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Characters : Dan Heng, Serval, Blade, Gepard, March

Plot : no real plot, just headcannons about honkai Characters in a modern au setting

Tags : modern au, headcannons, fluff, slight crack, wrote this at 11pm while heading home from a road trip

authors note : omg got a steam deck for my birthday (may 30th) and I. AM. IN. LOVE !!! I could talk abt it for hours and hours but i have my discord for that ehe. Anyways, ive been having fun rediscovering my old childhood games and thats when i had an epiphany. Hsr or genshin boys in a ddlc type scenario!!! Feeling so swag abt the idea. Also i got out of school so more uploads yaya. Thank u all for the support on my intro page yippee. I promise not to let you all down

╭( ･ㅂ･)و ̑̑ enjoy !

DANHENG

Now playing : Scrawny - The Wallows

He definitely dresses like with collared shirts and kinda has that accidental soft boy look

English major frfr

definitely listens to lovejoy/wilbursoot and bo burnham

Water drinker enthusiast (even tho he forgets to drink half the time-)

burnt out gifted kid

messed up sleeping schedules

Hes that quiet guy everyone has a crush on to some extent

He looks cold and serious during lectures, but hes actually just daydreaming and has his head in the clouds

Probably stays with the same group of kids he met in middle school because he cant socialize

I think said kids would be march, stelle/caleus, himeko And on ocasion blade, kafka, and silverwolf

Welt would be a chill english teacher that would let Dan Heng sit in his classroom during lunch

he likes going to concerts a lot

Learned to play guitar in middle school but doesnt like playing in front of people

Consider yourself lucky if he plays in front of you

Extremely oblivious to romance

Girls will try to flirt with him but he will just have a blank and confused look

Spends his free time in book stores shopping for records

Ps5 gamer frfr

Theater kid (had a hamilton phase)

SERVAL

Now playing : Shut Me Up - Mindless Self Indulgence

Shut me up by mindless self indulgence on loop

Like its probably to an unhealthy level

Always has headphones in(that gepard gave her for her birthday)(And so loud to the point you can hear the music standing next to her)

(went deaf at the ripe age of 13, after that it was all "huh?" /j)

Shirts from old bands, baggy jeans, fishnets, etc

Had an alt phase

Bad habit of smashing guitars

Dropped out of college after first semester

Had a band in highschool with Blade and Dan Heng that received noise complaints on a regular Basis

Really extroverted and easy to get along with

Loves going to concerts (especially the ones that get crazy like halfway through )

Probably gets in fights during black friday

Addicted to coffee (gepards needs to step in and help her drink something else)

Likes bitter stuff more than sweet stuff

Cares very deeply for her friends

The type of gal to go on road trips with friends and go Camping

Goes to protests every other tuesday

Probably banned from several places

very passionate about things she loves

Loves scary movies and Rollercoasters

The six flags employees have memorized her name

(shes just so cool i wanna be like her fr)

BLADE

Now playing : Consequences - Lovejoy

Theater kid (would never admit it tho)

Kafka teases him about it so much

met kafka and silverwolf in detention

The teachers hate the three of them

Alt kid and never got out of his emo phase

Besties with serval, change my mind

Kafka probably pushed him to join boxing to get his anger out in a less…destructive way

Loves the sleepovers he has with kafka and silverwolf

Broke silverwolf's tv while playing wii sports

Goes to college, no clue what he wants to do so hes just doing liberal studies

Adopted a small stray cat he saw on the ground during a storm

he tries to be tough and mean, but hes a big Softy

Loves the Beetlejuice musical(and mean girls but we dont talk about that)

has probably been on probation on multiple occasions

Probably vandalized the car of someone he didnt like

Kafka has to sweet talk everyone out of getting blade in serious trouble

Hes really good at basketball, he just doesnt like it so he never pushed it further

Doesnt really like or understands sports

probably listens to videogame osts 24/7

GEPARD

Now Playing : Pretty Face - PUBLIC

Getting serval out of trouble isnt a choice, its a lifestyle

Which is ironic, as he is a criminal justice major

But he still will always be her biggest supporter

Dresses (like a costco dad) soft boy by pure accident

Completely oblivious to anything and everything

Enjoys gardening and has a lemon Tree

Cave Town enthusiast

Lemonade Enthusiast

Sends people those "reminder to drink water and be happy" messages

Straight 4.0 GPA student. The teachers loved Him

Was really shy so he didnt have many friends growing up (Serval had to help him out)

Hates rollercoasters, serval drags him around six flags and he screams his head off

Poor guy :<

Still loves it since he loves hanging out with his sister

Student council secretary

No clue how the internet and technology works

Strong sense of justice

That has gotten him involved in several issues

Which ironically, serval got him out of

Wholesome cinnamon roll, pls protecc

MARCH 7TH

Now playing : Cupid - FIFTY FIFTY

That one girl in class that no one could hate

Class representative and student council public relations officer

Photography major (duh)

Social butterfly and very easy to talk to

Want to go out to go eat something sweet while having fun? March has you covered !

March Makes friendship braclets and sells them so she can go shopping

has a secret stash of candy hidden in her dorm

March has a babysitting gig and comes to peoples houses with candy

Shes a little kid magnet, they all love her so much

had a club penguin phase with Dan Heng and they both shudder just thinking about it

learned all her profanity from watching Dan Heng play Call Of Duty

sucks at english, fries her brain like a hashbrown

k-pop girlie

dresses really cute with cardigans and pastel pinks

(watched aphmau, Her favorite one was a mermaid tales and mystreet) [submitted by someone on my discord who wants to stay anon]

plays overwatch and says things like "Hey, thats not nice!"

lowkey kind of a teachers pet-

Loves webtoons and collects the physical releases

! Thats a wrap !

! Join my discord HERE !

! Likes, reblogs, comments are greatly appreciated !

and thank you for reading ^^

♪ Overdose 君とふたり やるせない日々♪

! y u m i - c h a n i s n o w o f f l i n e !

t h a n k y o u f o r c o m i n g ~

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[a-cat-in-toffee]

okay disclaimer I've never smoked weed. but have civ au evildead hotboxing marks car then kissing gaystyle

Will didn't exactly know how he ended up here in the passenger seat of Mark's shitty Honda Oydssey, but still here he sat, with Ashe in the driver seat, listening to one of her playlists. It was late, and pretty dark out, and the longer William stayed out the more likely it was someone would notice, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"How the fuck do you do this?" William glanced over at Ashe, who was frowning down at the piece of paper in her lap which she was desperately trying (and failing) to roll.

"Try putting the weed in it first?"

She glanced up at him, glaring, but complied, rolling the paper around it. It was shitty, but well enough resembled a cigarette. Ashe stared down at it. "… Now what."

William grabbed it, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out his lighter, flipping it open and bringing it to the end of the joint. He had never smoked weed before, but it couldn't be that different from regular cigarettes. It'd just slow everything down a little.

He brought it to his lips, inhaling and instantly coughing. Shit, not the same at all. William heard Ashe laugh at him, and he glared up at her.

"You try." His voice felt a bit gravely, and he passed the joint over to her. There was a nervousness about her (though that was normal) as she took a hit from the joint.

As much as he resented it, Ashe was much more elegant with it than he was, though she still coughed a little. William grinned, "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Never." She closed her eyes, leaning back against the car seat. William admired her, relaxed and beutiful as ever. Her hair fell down past her shoulders, cascading from under her beanie like a waterfall under a mountain. Or something.

"How do you feel?"

Ashe hummed, not immediately responding. "I dunno. It's weird. How do you feel?"

He felt like he was having a million thoughts, and simulationsly none. "Yeah, same."

She smiled at that.

They probably should have cracked open window or something, but William couldn't be fucked to. Then again, Ashe might get it trouble for hotboxing her dads car… He opened his mouth to ask, only to be cut off by Ashe turning to him, stating "I've got an idea."

"Oh no."

Ashe giggled at that, sitting up in the seat. "Hold on, c'mere, I've read about this."

Hesitantly, William leaned towards her. Ashe brought it back to her mouth, breathing deeply. A few strands of her hair on the side not tucked behind her ear had fallen over her face, and William resisted the compulsion to reach forward and push them back into place.

She brought a hand up to his face, tilting it slightly and leaning in. William blinked, caught off guard but feeling too sluggish to respond properly. It wasn't like he really wanted to pull away, anyways. He had certainly thought about kissing her before. Ashe breathed into his mouth, pulling away and grinning at him.

William exhaled the smoke, blowing it in her face.

"Dude!" She laughed, sitting back again, teetering off into giggles. William quite liked her laugh. "How was that though?"

"What, the weed or you kissing me?"

Ashe blinked. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I did just kiss you."

The two of them stared at eachother before a fit of hysterics broke out between them. William brought his hands to his head, palms digging into his eyes. "Shit, I wasn't expecting this to be how that went."

"Sorry." He brought his hands down, being met with Ashe's beautiful grin and beautiful face and beautiful hair. "We can try again?"

Shit. William felt his face heat up. He blinked. "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

She leaned in again, this time without the weed, hesitating just in front of William's faces eyes half lidded. He closed the gap, forcing his eyes shut. Her hand free hand hand made its way into his hair, and he moved his arm over her should. It was… It was really nice, how their mouthed slotted together. Ashe's lips were soft, and tasted faintly of cherry.

She pulled away after a second, still smiling. "Was that time better?"

William hummed. "Maybe. Can we do it again, though?"

She laughed, but brought her lips to William's again, and kissed him.

[bogosbintedthealien]

Short OMARI fic idea (LOVED ONE COMES BACK W R O N G)

WAIT LET ME COOK!

Okay so besides that Mari lives Au fic I'm writing rn I have another Omori au fic (it's crack treated srsly so I wanna keep it to myself until I finish it) which long story short is good ending Sunny still jumps bc he thinks his friends can only start healing w/o him there and he wakes up in an OMARI AU where Sunny was in a coma. And there's a lot of different and weird shit so Sunny's way out of his head. It's clear that this is a different reality, not a different timeline.

ANYWAY HERE'S THE BRAIN ROT!!!

So, I've seen quite a few fics where Mari just comes back out of nowhere (usually her grave) and whoever she bumps into first is just hella chill w/ her being back alive after 4 years and they wanna show her off to everyone else??? Like, no shade to the fics, I just didn't find myself particularly liking thos fics and I don't think I finished any.

So I read one where good ending Sunny still jumps and wakes up in an OMARI AU. Basil found him and while he said he killed himself but he also said he went missing (on 2nd read realized Basil was half convincing himself of the latter thing) but it made me think.

I fucking love fiction where someone dies and only one or small amount know this for sure and then that person comes back but SOMETHING IS DEEPLY WRONG. Like,,,yas sign me the fuck up!!! You can do so much w/ that!!!

So this one also is good ending Sunny still jumps and wakes up in an OMARI AU but!!!! Sunny is fucking dead in that one. Our Sunny isn't meant to be here. So in the OMARI AU, Mari shoved/causes Sunny to fall down the stairs and she's weeping over his body trying to get him to wake in as she's in shook and hasn't registered his neck snapped. Hero walks in at this time and sees what's going and realizes quick that, Sunny isn't breathing, he has no pulse.

So he gets Mari to go with him into the woods and they bury him deep in the woods. Ofc she's in shock and dissociating the whole time while Hero is panicking, to parallel Sunny and Basil in the base game.

He get Mari to claim she woke up later than she was supposed to and looked around the house for her brother only to discover the backdoor was open. And that Hero even tried to help look for him. Everyone else thinks Sunny ran away while the teens know what they did and keep quite about it.

A year passes and that's when our Sunny get dumped into this world. He's all dirty and raggedy and wearing clothes he doesn't recognize. He's in the woods and makes his way back to town. Basil (ig? I just know I want one of the younger kids to find him bc they just think he went missing) finds him and is all ecstatic. Treating him and stuff and bombing him with questions. Our Sunny figures out p soon of what's up and that he's not where he should be, but doesn't reveal himself bc who the fuck will believe him? He can't just tell the truth. So he pretends he just...doesn't remember what's he's been up to for the last year. Just a missing persons who came back with no memories of what happened when they were gone. He's know he's heard about cases like that.

Sunny puts on an act of being frustrated and scared that he has this gap in his memories and that he feels like he's dead. Feels like he isn't real and that this isn't real. (Maybe some of his real feelings leaks thorough which makes it all the more convincing.)

So yadda yadda, everyone's over the moon to see he's back and the adults drop the whole 'where've you been?' and 'what happened?' just assuming xyz. Don't look a gifted horse in the mouth.

But Mari...when she sees him she loses it bc I KILLED HIM HES DEAD WE BURIED HIM WE BURIED HIM WE BURIED HIM WE BURIED HIM.

Sunny is happy to just,,,be around a Mari again and acts all clingy while Mari is trying to act normal about it but is terrified inside bc WHAT IS THIS WHO IS HE WHAT IS THIS IN FRONT OF ME IT CANT BE HIM WEBURIEDHIM.

She later come to a conclusion (this scene is why I wanna write this fic in the first place) as she's having a meltdown(?) breakdown(?) to Hero on the phone. At first she thought just maybe that this Sunny was some ghost here to haunt them, or was undead. But the supernatural isn't real so the only logic conclusion she can jump to is 'HE WAS ALIVE AND WE BURIED HIM. OH MY GOD HERO HE WAS ALIVE AND WE BURIED HIM. WE BURIED SUNNY.' She basically is convinced they were wrong about him being dead or maybe just somehow his heart restarted and WE BURIED HIM WE BURIED HIM HE WAS ALIVE AND WE BURIED HIM.

She thinks that Sunny was alive the whole time and woke up after they buried him and dug out of his own grave and the shock of all that made him forget things and just wander off. She think someone probs picked him up (he was found in unfamiliar clothes after all) and finally the shock or mental block finally dropped and he instinctively went back home and doesn't remember what happened to him during the shock state/mental block he had.

Hero on the other hand, isn't convinced that it's Sunny. He knows that happened. He's wasn't breathing, there was no pulse. He held him, he buried him.

That wasn't Sunny.

Hero think's our Sunny is a ghost here to haunt them, then maybe an undead and lastly lands on: SOMETHING IS WEARING HIS SKIN WEARING HIS FACE USING HIS VOICE THAT ISN'T SUNNY SUNNY IS DEAD I BURIED HIM IN THE WOODS LAST YEAR.

HOW DARE YOU LOOK LIKE HIM HOW DARE YOU

So for the last chapter he wants to convince Mari she's wrong. That that thing isn't Sunny. And he wants validation. So he treks into the woods to where they buried him and digs and dig and digs and dig and digs until there's blood. His blood.

And he finds it. Bones. Human bones. Fabric hidden deep in the dirt.

THAT THING WASN'T SUNNY. HE'S RIGHT HERE WHERE I BURIED HIM.

oh god

He turns to look towards town.

its in the house with mari...

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD THAT THING'S IN THE HOUSE WITH MARI

MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI MARI

Is the only thing he's think as he books it back to town.

And that's the end of the fic. It just stops there. I did say I wanted this to be a short fic. Also sorry this post is sloppy and not that cohesive like my last one but I'm writing this as I go late at night and just wanted to air out my brain rot.

I'm aiming for 5 chapters (won't be adding much filler to this) and I know for sure that it won't go to 10. Probs wanna finish it first, then post the dang thing but it's probs only gonna take me a month to write.

[blooberrries]

『midnight, midsummer』 — three

— pairing: shoto x reader — tags: university au, urban fantasy au, selkie shoto, accidental marriage (lmfao), faerie antics, 18+ — wc: 2.5k — notes: ehe

“I have no intention of forcing you into anything,” Shoto says evenly, expression neutral despite the roiling depths of his mismatched eyes. He seems to hesitate slightly before he continues. “Let me propose something, then. A bargain.” Your eyebrows shoot up before you’re able to stop them. Shoto is offering to enter a faerie bargain with you? As though he can see the cogs turning in your head, the corner of his lips lifts in a half smile. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes a moment before he lets the air go and meets your gaze once more. “If you find that you do not have any feelings for me at all, come Midsummer’s Eve, then I will dissolve this marriage and leave you be.” ----You get a little more than you bargained for when you knock some poor guys coat off his chair in the library. You pick it up and give it back to him, of course, because that's what anyone would do, right? Well, apparently not when it comes to selkies.

masterlist || next

When you return home, there is something sitting on the doorstep. A familiar box, and a small, wrapped and potted orchid.

For a moment you sort of just stand and stare, the kind of stare you’ve witnessed when someone has absolutely nothing going on upstairs. Blinking, you reach down, taking the box into your hold, and crack it open.

Familiar gleaming pearl peeks at you for the briefest moment before you snap the lid shut and pinch your face into a grimace. What exactly where you expecting? There’s no way you could have looked at that box and not known it was the very same one you’d been proposed to with just days prior.

There isn’t any time to dwell on it though, because the front door is suddenly swung open before you. Like a woman possessed, your arm whips and you cram the ring into the pocket of your jacket, your back shooting straight.

Your uncle stares at you for a second, his gaze flicking down before rising to your face. One of his brows lifts.

“What’s the flower for?”

Shit, you forgot about the orchid. Well, it’s not like it would have fit into your pocket anyway.

“Ah…” You scramble for an excuse. “It’s for Yu.”

“Me?” he echoes, fluttering his lashes. You roll your eyes. Bastard knows it’s not for him.

“You can have it if you want, but you’ll have to fight her for it.” You lean down and pick up the potted plant in question, shooting your uncle a smile that you hope is convincing. “I thought it would be nice to get her something since she got me that cake.”

Your uncle scoffs, but steps aside to let you through the threshold nonetheless.

“Then technically you should have gotten me one too – that was my idea, you know?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you say, entering and ignoring the scandalised look he directs your way. He follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, discarding the orchid onto the bench as you go.

In the process of grabbing a glass of water, you catch sight of the chaos that has overtaken about three quarters of the kitchen so far. Your uncle must have been cooking before you arrived.

“I’m making lasagne,” he announces bravely, confirming your fears. Anyone listening wouldn’t ever think that the man had never successfully completed an edible (emphasis on edible) dish in his life.

“What’s our backup option?” you ask, leaning against the bench.

“We won’t need it,” he dismisses your worries with confidence. “… But it’s the poke bowl place down the road.”

You nod, but decide to wait until after he has completed the food to bully him.

Your uncle goes back to whatever stage of preparation he was up to before you came, humming as he moves, and you’re left to your own thoughts. Your eyes stray to the orchid before you can stop them, and you’re forced to recall the events of the day.

That expression on his face as you left the lecture hall… your heart sinks at the thought of it. You’re being terrible, honestly. But as much as you resolve yourself to woman-up and apologise, to just talk to the poor guy, you just… can’t. You suspect the reason why your body refuses to listen to you, but you can’t address it without opening a whole other can of worms and you’re really not in the best place for that.

“What’s on your mind, toots?”

Your uncle draws your gaze when he speaks, not looking up from where he is combining ingredients.

“Nothing much,” you utter, before a thought hits you. “What… do you know about selkies?”

Your uncle hums, but thankfully doesn’t give you a suspicious look like you feared he would. “Plenty. There’s a decent number of them in Moonhollow. Why do you ask?”

“There is one in one of my classes, and I just realised I didn’t know much at all about them,” you lie, adding for good measure: “I figured you would be the best person to ask.”

Your uncle straightens, chest puffing slightly with pride. “Well, you’d be right. Hmm… they’re one of the many subsets of the fae faction. They’re quite neutral in their alignment, tend to keep to themselves. They have an interesting set of traditions regarding marriage, though I’ve heard that’s mostly specific to the population here.”

These are mostly things you know, but since you told him that you didn’t know anything you nod along with his words.

He pauses, turning his gaze upward in thought. “Actually, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure Council Member Todoroki’s wife is a selkie. Fae tend to intermarry between the different folk to keep the peace. His son is about your age, you’ve probably seen him around on campus.”

You feel like your heart skips a beat, and try not to let it show on your face. No way. You’re just overthinking. Surely the selkie claiming himself to be your husband is a different guy, completely unrelated to one of the most powerful citizens in the region.

“Maybe. Hard to tell, since they all tend to share similar features.” You say it moreso for your own benefit than anything else, but your uncle’s responding noise of contention makes your stomach dip.

“Well, normally I’d agree with you but he’s pretty distinct. His siblings all look like one or the other, but he’s one of the rare ones that got equal portions of his parents’ genes. He ended up kind of chimeric.”

You feel your heart sink to your toes. That’s him. Even you can’t convince yourself otherwise. There is literally no one else in the city that has split features like Shoto does.

“Is that so…” You kind of what to smack yourself across the face. Isn’t Council Member Todoroki known for his temper and bullheadedness? What if he names and shames you for refusing to marry his son?

Well, technically according to Shoto you’re already married, but that train of thought isn’t exactly helping your stress levels right now so you decide to discard it.

You push off from the bench, dusting flour from your hands. Time to flee. You turn your head his way as you depart from the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go work on my assignments. Call me when the poke bowl is here?”

His indignant sputter follows you up the stairs. “That’s not funny! Keep that up and you won’t get any of my five-star lasagne!”

That’s not much of a loss. For the sake of his pride, however, you decide not to voice that thought and instead ascend to your room with a snort. You do intend to work on your assignments, but considering the realisation you’ve just come to it will be a miracle if you can get your pen to touch paper.

- - -

“You’ve been acting weird.”

You look up, wondering which of your two friends had spoken. Himiko has her mouth attached to her ‘juice’ straw, and she’s not one to talk mid-drink, so your eyes flit towards Toru.

“Have not,” you rebuke, unable to help the huff that follows. Toru rolls her eyes – well, at least you think she does. It’s a bit hard to perceive her. Shadow creatures tend to be very difficult for the mortal eye to see. Since she is a form of demon, though, the spell your uncle cast on your eyes helps a little bit; with it, you can at least roughly discern her features.

“Just ‘cause you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I can’t see you.” She shifts, propping her elbow on the table and leaning her head against her palm. “You’re acting like a nut.”

You turn back to your food, a little embarrassed that your actions are so obvious. This whole situation just keeps creating layers upon layers of discomfort in your life. Your fork stabs into your salad with a little more aggression than necessary, and as a result a small cherry tomato flings off into the distance. You watch it go with a defeated look before turning back to Toru.

“You’ve only known me for a month, what if this is how I normally act?”

Himiko, having finished her drink, chooses now to chime in. “Girl, if you were always this antsy and paranoid then you wouldn’t smell so good. You’d be sour as hell.”

Your hands throw themselves into the air. “Can everyone in this damn city smell me?!”

Both your friends simply nod, and you sink in your seat on the picnic bench, humiliated. Is it too late to leave Moonhollow? Normally you’d argue it’s never too late to do something, but you’re pretty sure your uncle made you enter some dodgy deal to stay here. Sneaky bastard.

“Yeah,” Toru agrees. “Besides, you only started avoiding Shoto Todoroki recently.”

An incriminating grimace crosses your face before you can stop it. This is a situation that you had, quite delusionally, thought you wouldn’t have to divulge to anyone else.

Himiko leans forward, a fanged grin stretching her lips. “Spill, or I’ll snack on you.”

She knows as well as you do that her threats do nothing to scare you; at this point you think the only reason she still attempts it is for the novelty of having a human around to use them on for once.

“There’s nothing to spill,” you say, adamantly.

Toru giggles. “That’s not what half the campus is saying.”

Your heart goes still in your chest. “What?”

Even Himiko seems to be clued in, if the smug look on her face as she leans back is anything to go by.

“You haven’t heard?” You can’t see much of her face, but you do see the shit-eating grin Toru is currently sporting. “Apparently, Lazarus’ third-most eligible bachelor has been taken off the market. He’s found his life partner, they say.”

“His betrothed,” Himiko chimes.

Toru grins. “His wife.”

“His what? Who?” you squeak, attempting to feign ignorance. “Toto Shodoroki? I don’t even know who that is--”

Himiko holds up a hand, using the other to brush silken blonde locks from her face. “Don’t try it, I saw him staring holes into you that time you arrived late for the group meeting. Something happened that day, didn’t it?”

Toru’s hands slam onto the table, making you jump about a foot in fright. “Tell us!”

“All I did was knock his coat off the chair by accident!” You burst, breaking under the pressure. “Then he suddenly showed up with a ring afterwards and said we were married but I don’t even know how or why also I don’t know what the fuck to even do because it has to be some mistake--”

“Sorry, sister,” Toru cuts your maniacal rambling short, reaching to pat you on the shoulder. Her touch feels like water, but leaves no wetness behind. “But that ain’t no mistake. Word is for the clan of selkies here, their coats are a very important aspect of the marriage ritual. And that’s not a can of worms you can close after opening.”

Your face falls into your hands with a mournful groan. You feel your heart beginning to climb your throat again. “Stop. Please stop talking.”

“Better to have a small breakdown now, than a big breakdown later.” Himiko says. Her words are actually oddly kind of sensible, but you’re not about to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

“How about you tell me it’s all just a very long, vivid dream, and I have no breakdown?”

“Nope, sorry babes.” Toru shrugs. “That’s not how this works. Fae can’t lie, so it’s better to get you used to hearing nothing but the truth.”

A sudden but brief wail escapes you, and it’s Himiko this time that pats your back. “There there, pet. With acceptance comes peace... apparently.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at her. “I hate you both. This is incredibly unhelpful -- I’m literally in the middle of a crisis. Have a little empathy.”

“Fuck empathy,” Toru chortles. “I’m jealous, you lucky bitch! Do you know how fine that man is? I went to high school with him, you know.”

“Everyone here went to high school with each other.” You mutter, your face back in your hands. You ignore the fact that there is a shred of truth to her words -- Shoto Todoroki is indeed a very fine looking man.

The night demon continues as though you didn’t say anything at all. “All the Todoroki offspring are good-looking, good-natured kids -- with the slight exception of the oldest Todoroki because he’s a little different -- but Shoto in particular turned out well. Considering the personality on his dad, he definitely could have come out worse.”

“Plus he smells good,” Himiko adds, sighing slightly. “All fae smell sweet, but he smells super scrumptious. What I wouldn’t do to have a taste...”

“What about me?” Toru interrupts, sounding kind of affronted. “You don’t wanna eat me?”

“You smell like smoke and cinnamon,” Himiko informs her. “Still good, but something about fae blood just calls to you. Shit’s like MSG.”

Toru hums, apparently soothed for now and likely reasoning that she can’t compare to MSG. You find yourself wishing that you could melt yourself into the earth. You don’t know what to tell them -- you can’t do this, there has to have been some sort of mistake, or maybe there’s a way out of it since you’re mortal and not bound by the same magic rules? For some reason, even as you think it, you don’t find yourself very convinced.

“What are you afraid of?” Himiko asks. You must have voiced some of your earlier thoughts. “This isn’t a bad thing.”

“Definitely not a bad thing.” Toru interjects. “Unless you count having Enji Todoroki as a father-in-law, because that could go either way, really.”

You chew your words for a moment, before allowing them to enter the air in a soft murmur. “... I didn’t get a choice. This is a huge thing to happen so suddenly, it affects everything, and I... I don’t know what to do.”

The two must share a look, because there is a few moments of silence above you.

“Well, not much you can do about it right now,” Toru says, carding her cool fingers through your hair in a soothing manner; it’s like her digits phase through your strands. “I do have something that might help, though.”

You lift your head, hopeful. She gives you half-smile, nodding to Himiko. “Come to the Marine Quarter with us tomorrow night. The sea-dwellers are celebrating some holiday of theirs and are hosting some huge shin-dig, open to everyone.”

“It will be good to get your mind off of things,” Himiko says, enticing you with your old friend, avoidance.

You take a moment to consider it, but at the prospect of getting blind rotten drunk and forgetting everything for a night, you find yourself happy to accept the invitation. Besides, it’s not a gathering hosted by the fae so you won’t have to stay alert around the food.

“... Alright,” you say, whipping a finger between them. “But I swear if either of you leave me alone to go feed or... whatever it is you shadow demons do to your prey, then I’m never speaking to either of you again. I will also be changing my name and moving countries.”

Toru cackles. “Whatever. You won’t regret it.”

For some reason, you don’t quite find yourself believing that.

[bobateastay]

monster energy girl - j.yh, s.mg

jeong yunho x song mingi x fem!reader

cw - college!au, fluff, crack(?), non-sexual nudity, breast size is mentioned (not reader's), lots of energy drink talk, boys wearing bikinis (full disclaimer this is the stupidest thing i've ever written)

word count: 1.2k

It seemed like a good idea at first. An advertisement announcing that your favourite energy drink brand was looking for busty, good-looking girls to stand around at motorcycle shows looking pretty seemed like a perfect thing to apply for. Just in case college didn’t work out. You weren’t entirely sure how your boyfriend ended up being the one wearing a skimpy bikini instead of you but it was a bit late to worry about that now. The only thing you could do was come to terms with the fact that your bathroom smelled like a chemical lab and your boyfriend was now (more or less) hotter than you.

“What if I don’t look sexy enough?” Mingi whined from his spot on the plastic stool you had positioned in the middle of your cramped dorm bathroom. His legs were spread open so that you could stand between them, his hands settled on your hips as you warily combed bleach through his hair. When you looked down, there was a pout on his lips. You couldn’t help but snort at how he looked, clad only in boxers and the neon green bikini top you’d picked out together, his hair half-bleached and expression distressed.

“Are you kidding me? You’re so sexy Mingi, haven’t you seen how people stare at your ass?” you reassured him, only half joking. His pout deepened.

“I have no ass,” he muttered. Before you could answer, he poked at your belly a few times. “Hurry up, this shit itches. Are you sure you bought the right one?”

“Yes, I bought the right one,” you insisted, carefully smoothing more of the bleach into the untouched parts of his hair. “Anyway, you have a great ass. Whatever you lack in ass you make up for with your d-”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Your head whipped around to find Yunho standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to figure out what to focus on. You could practically see him going through the stages of grief, his face pulling into a half-grimace. There was a beat of silence, interrupted by your plastic gloves crinkling as you began working with the bleach again.

“She’s making me sexy,” Mingi said, as though this cleared anything up.

Yunho shot you an incredulous look, inhaling deeply and immediately regretting it, coughing as he covered his nose with his shirt.

“That does not explain the bleach or the bikini. It smells like your scalp is burning,” Yunho said, most of his concern fading into mild amusement.

“That’s probably because it is,” Mingi replied with a grave nod.

“Don’t move,” you hissed. Yunho let out a short laugh and stepped into the bathroom even though there definitely wasn’t room for all three of you to fit comfortably, especially not with two people who needed as much legroom as Mingi and Yunho did. Yunho kissed your cheek before moving to stand behind Mingi, thumbs kneading into the younger’s back.

“Seriously though, what are you guys doing?” he asked, leaning down to kiss Mingi’s shoulder.

“There’s an opening for Monster Energy girls-”

“No fucking way,” Yunho interrupted you, breaking into a grin as you continued speaking.

“-and me and Mingi figured at least one of us should apply. Then we decided that blonde would look better on him instead of me which brings us to this,” you explained.

“Do Monster Energy girls have to be blonde?” Yunho inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“No, but it’s usually girls with big-” Mingi’s voice cut off as he gestured grabbing at his chest, glancing between the two of you to make sure he was understood before continuing. “-so we thought blonde hair would look better.”

He spoke as if he had come to this conclusion through extensive research and Yunho acted as such as well, nodding as though it were a very serious matter. He toyed absently with the strings of the bikini, retying the bow that sat on the back of Mingi’s neck.

“Fair enough,” he said, snapping the bikini string against Mingi’s skin. “Do you guys want anything from the store? Maybe a hat for when your hair fries off?”

“They sell hats at 7-Eleven?” Mingi asked, turning to look at Yunho and whining when you grabbed his head to turn it back towards you.

“Can you get Monster? For the photos?” you asked, leaning toward Yunho for a kiss. He hummed a soft 'sure' as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing Mingi’s shoulders before he left the bathroom, leaving you both to your own devices (which unfortunately didn’t seem to be very good ones).

By the time you were done bleaching Mingi’s hair, he was squirming and whining about how much it burned, only quieting down when you promised him that you’d cook dinner for him once you were done with his hair. Of course this was given that it didn’t fry off as Yunho had predicted.

“If I get cyberbullied for this, it’s your fault,” he grumbled while you washed the product out of his newly orange-yellow hair, impatiently shifting around in the bathtub.

“I know, I know,” you murmured.

“Get in the bathtub,” he demanded suddenly, looking up at you through squinted eyes that were already bloodshot from the copious amount of conditioner he’d gotten in them thanks to his squirming. You raised a brow in confusion, yelping when he splashed your front with water. “You owe me for ruining my hair.”

When Yunho got back to the dorm, he found both of you sitting naked in the bathtub, your boobs squished against Mingi’s back as the two of you argued over whether he could pull off the splotchy yellow colour in his hair, seemingly no longer concerned about the Monster Energy girl application if the discarded bikini on the floor was anything to go by. Your eyes lit up upon seeing Yunho, waving him over.

“Tell your boyfriend he looks good,” you pleaded.

“You look good princess,” Yunho complied with a grin, setting down a small collection of Monster cans on the bathroom floor.

“Doesn’t count if she asked you to say it,” Mingi mumbled, still seeming pleased by the compliment. Yunho reached forward and turned off the shower water despite you and Mingi's protests, crouching so that he was level with both of you.

“I just spent a ridiculous amount of money on energy drinks I don’t even like, we better get some sexy pictures out of this,” Yunho warned, toying with a lock of Mingi’s wet hair. You giggled, squeezing Mingi’s waist happily and leaning further into him. Mingi shuddered at the feeling of you nosing at the back of his neck, a giggle building in the back of his throat that turned into full on laughter when Yunho joined in, rubbing his nose against Mingi’s damp cheek.

“Fine, give me the bikini,” he said between barks of laughter.

As it turned out, there were a few requirements Monster Energy girls had to meet that Mingi didn’t fit (one of them including breast size, surprisingly enough) but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hailed the campus’ official energy drink girl once the photoshoot you and Yunho directed was uploaded to social media. The fact that the rest of your friend group begrudgingly agreed to join Mingi in wearing neon bikini tops at most parties after that, giving your campus a whopping total of eight not-so-busty energy drink girls, was just a plus.

♡

taglist: @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @seonghwanotes @xirenex @choiberry @peanutpmingib @sannierio @seohwa @ateezinmymind

[glassessence]

Modern Soulmate AU | Watanabe

M O D E R N   S O U L M A T E   A U   |   W A T A N A B E

-- You see in black and white until you meet your soulmate. --

There have been violent protests for days now and this morning graced us with a magnitude 5.9 earthquake. Suffice to say I’m feeling a little ~shooketh~ (pardon the pun; I’ll show myself out haha). 

Anyway, I’ve been writing a lot of angst lately and wanted a change of pace. I love the idea of soulmates, so here’s an AU featuring university professor Watanabe. I’m super tired at the time of this posting so grammatical tenses are all over the place. I’m sorry. I zoned out so hard during this that it’s half stream of consciousness lmao.  

Also, it’s in dot-point format because I have no time to write it into an actual oneshot *cry* Also, if anyone cares, here’s what I have planned for future instalments in this series: 

CEO Lee | Secretary Reader

Pop singer Kamui | Backup dancer Reader

W A T A N A B E   |   U N I V E R S I T Y   P R O F E S S O R

Watanabe has seen in faded colours since the start of the semester. He knows his soulmate is a student, but doesn’t know who.

It’s not until you stay behind to ask him a question that it happens. He turns to you and his world bursts into riotous technicolour. Your world explodes into colour, blues and greens and yellows beyond your wildest dreams.

For a moment, both of you just stare at each other. Watanabe is speechless, blown away by the colour in your cheeks and the light in your eyes. You’re backlit by the soft afternoon sun and all he can think of is how beautiful you are.

You’ve always considered Watanabe handsome but unattainable. You’d always figured someone like him would be taken. All the good ones were. 

But now, he was your soulmate. The knowledge feels impossible and knocks the very breath out of you. 

“It’s you,” Watanabe breathes, so quietly you barely hear him. His hand reaches out. Long fingers are inches from your face when he seems to remember himself. He drops his hand. Clearing his throat, he asks you how he can help.

You’re so shocked at the blazing colour of the world that you’ve forgotten your question. “N-Nevermind, professor. I’ve gotta go.” Heart hammering and face flaming, you rush from the room as fast as you can. 

The next few weeks are super awkward. You’re not sure how to talk to Watanabe and he seems to be avoiding you. He rushes out after every lecture and doesn’t meet your eye. Even though your world looks so beautiful now, it feels grayer than ever.

Watanabe feels miserable and impossibly conflicted. He wants to get to know you, to hold you and kiss you. Knowing you were out there alone was a pain he could hardly bear. 

“You’re kidding,” Bruce says over beer one day. He eyes his lonely friend. “Keep it secret, Watanabe, but you have to do something. This doesn’t just happen to anyone, you know.”

You stopped going to lectures, unable to stand the reality of Watanabe purposefully ignoring you. Was it because you were a student? Or… did he have someone else? The very possibility of another woman filled your heart with envy. 

Noticing your absence, Watanabe grew concerned. He was a university professor, after all. Regardless of whatever bond connected the both of you, you were still his student. 

He reached out to you via email. Y/N, I haven’t seen you in lectures lately. Is everything okay? 

Your response was curt. Thank you for checking in, professor. I’m fine, just been feeling a bit unwell lately. 

Guilt shot through Watanabe. It seemed it was your turn to avoid him. He knew he deserved it. His heart ached. Bruce was right. Something had to be done. I see. I don’t want you to fail the subject.  I think we should have a catch up over coffee to discuss your progress.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was Watanabe asking you out on a date? Or were you reading way too much into it? Regardless, you dressed well. The day was bright, warm and sunny. You’d grown used to the brilliant colours, but still took immense pleasure in seeing the autumn leaves fall. 

He was dressed in a casual button down and slacks, long hair knotted at the back of his head. Handsome without trying, as usual. You eyed him warily. He’d made his intentions clear so far. You didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. Still, something in you ached for his touch. You tore your eyes from his lips. 

Watanabe admired you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you, but seeing you again up close, he was taken aback by your eyes. “You came,” he says simply. “Of course,” you reply casually. “I don’t want to fail the subject, after all.”

Watanabe quirks a smile. “I’d certainly hope not.” The two of you sit down. The conversation is initially focused on your academics and all the content you’d have to catch up on. However, it soon spirals into something else. You make him laugh, a deep rumble that kindles something in your soul. He possesses a sharp intellect that you’re desperately attracted to. Time passes in the blink of an eye. 

“I should go,” you say, gathering up your things as the sun is setting. The sky is overcast, pregnant with heavy clouds threatening rain. “Yeah,” he agrees. “My bad.”

“No,” you counter boldly. “My pleasure.” His eyes widen, but he looks away. He says nothing, but the disapproving frown tells you enough. Your smile fades. “Watanabe...What is this?” His answer is bitter. “Wrong,” he says.

Hurt and anger burn in your chest. “Wrong?” you echo. You point to your eyes. “You think this is wrong?” You slap your palm to your chest. Your voice breaks. “You think this is wrong?”

“No,” he growls, frustrated. “Never. But I’m a professor and you’re a student. I can’t take advantage of you.”

“You’re not taking advantage of me! This is meant to be! I-Is there someone else?”

He stares at you in disbelief. “No, of course not. I just...can’t.” You bite your lip. “I can’t bear to be around you,” you say softly. Raindrops splatter onto the pavement. “I’m going now.”

You turn from him and walk into the pouring rain. Watanabe runs after you. “At least let me take you home. You walked here, right?” You keep walking, trying to ignore the magnetic pull of him. “I’m fine.”

“Dammit woman,” he says, voice low. He grabs you by the arm and forces you to face him. You have to look up to see his face. “Why are you being so difficult?”

Something in you cracks. “Because,” you say heatedly. “I can’t bear to be around you! To want you so much it hurts. To want to touch you and kiss you and be beside you. To know that you’d rather be alone than with me!”

“That’s not true!” he roars back at you. “I want you. So much. I want to leave my marks on you and make you my woman. But I can’t! People will judge you and I won’t allow that.”

“Fuck them,” you reply. “You’re just a coward, Watanabe.”

His hold on you loosens in shock. You take the opportunity to break away. The sky was black now and the rain showed no signs of relenting. You hated how brightly the moon shone and how beautiful the night was under her silver touch. 

Suddenly, a hand pulled you back. Lips touched yours, warm and velvet soft. Watanabe kissed you deeply. His tongue snuck into your mouth, twining with yours like long-lost lovers. His hand curled into your hair. The other encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing was heavy. “I’m not a coward,” he whispered in your ear. “I just don’t want you to suffer because of me. Others might not understand. They might attack you. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never,” you answer softly. “Never, Watanabe.”

The two of you made it back to his car. But it was a good deal later into the night that you returned home… 

[luckyladylily]

For my money there is nothing that encapsulates the idea “I didn’t say it was good, I said I like it” more than this series:

I’m using cover number 2 of the manga because there is no other cover in the entire series, light novel or manga, that isn’t too horny for this blog. It is intensely problematic, deeply stupid, and incredibly self indulgent. And I love it.

I have never seen a published series that feels more like a fanfic than this. And I don’t mean in the “fanfic is better than published work!” some people get into. That aint my thing. No, this series is the most self indulgent crack fic trash I have ever seen outside of AO3. The entire series is built on completely played straight instances of “They were room mates!” and “There’s only one bed!”

Our main cast:

Diablo, powerful sorcerer with a crippling anxiety disorder that is actually written like an anxiety disorder (the series also isn’t insulting to him about it, though it is often used for laughs.) He copes with this by being permanently stuck in roleplay mode.

Shera, an elf that ran away from home and learned to be a summoner so she could summon lots of cute pets. She is stupid as a box of rocks but the only character in the party that doesn’t have wisdom as a dump stat.

Rem, a mildly tsundere cat girl with abandonment issues. The english dub of the anime gave her a valley girl accent and it fits her perfectly. Kinda like what you would get if Rin from Fate had a bit more emotional intelligence, was a catgirl, and grew up in LA.

There are other reoccurring characters that regularly get swapped in and out, but too many to list here.

Like I said, this is honestly, objectively, not good art. This is low brow, horny, self indulgent trash, but it knows what it is and doesn’t pretend otherwise. It is also practically laser targeted at me.

There are two things that really set it apart:

First, the series never does that thing where the author just can’t quite resist throwing in a a half apology nudge to the audience that they know this is cringe. No, we are diving head first into the dumpster here, which ironically means it is all treated with an amount of respect that most series like this don’t really give itself or its audience.

Second, Diablo’s crippling anxiety disorder is actually handled very well. As a disability narrative it is surprisingly solid. It’s played for laughs frequently but it is never cruel about it or laughing at him or his disability. It feels like someone who gets the stress of dealing with a disorder writing about it, laughing at the difficulty it causes them by applying it to absurd situations. This is not a cure narrative, this is not inspiration porn, it isn’t even disabled people are just as capable. He never gets “better”, even as he learns to handle it somewhat. He has backslides into self destructive habits. There are things he wants to do that he simply cannot. It is this a big problem he has to deal with constantly, but the series doesn’t treat him as pathetic for it even when he is beating himself up over it. It’s ok to have problems, its ok to have limitations. It doesn’t make him less of a person.

It is intensely problematic though, so reader beware if you do decide to check it out. There are significant portions I choose to just skip and are honestly pretty gross. IMO manga > LN > anime season 1. Season 2 is very poorly made and is not worth a watch, I didn’t even think there were any good moments in it.

Anyway here is my AU fanfic. Come join me in the dumpster.

[hobicomeholla29]

Soulmate- Drabble - PCY

Pairing: Vampire! Chanyeol x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU! /Fluff /Crack

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: None

Rating: PG13

A/N: Well look who has returned from her semi-hiatus! xD This is a small drabble I had saved in my WIPS and decided to give it a little life. Unedited, please bear with me. This is my attempt to get back into writing, hopefully, it works lol.

Summary: Sleep doesn’t want to come to you tonight, but a phone call with your favorite person might do the trick.

♡¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡*¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡*¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡

You tossed and turned in your bed, not sure why you couldn't bring yourself to sleep. It was way past the appropriate bedtime for someone who wanted to be a responsible adult on the following day.

It didn't help that tonight, it seemed to be one of those cold nights, where no amount of clothes and blanket layering made you feel warm enough.

You considered abandoning the little warmth you had finally achieved after hours, thinking you could maybe get Sehun to entertain you until you felt sleepy since he loved being active so late at night. But you remembered -One- that he lived a mile and a half away and -Two- he would probably send you right back home and to sleep, so you opted to stay put.

Running out of ideas on how to get yourself to finally sleep, you stared into the darkness of your room, ready to accept that you would walk into your office with bloodshot eyes the following day. That was until a buzzing sound coming from your nightstand startled you.

Rolling around in your bed to get in a more comfortable position, you answered your phone without checking who it was. "It's 2 in the morning, why are you still up?" you croaked.

There was no need to check the caller ID, only one person would call you this late at night and that could mean a couple of things, but mainly either his thoughts were running rampant again or he was hungry.

"I can't stop thinking about you, but also I don't require sleep," he answered, voice matching the grogginess in yours due to not speaking for hours.

The way he decided to answer your question had you chuckling involuntarily.

How can he confidently say stuff like this, when it's so difficult for you to even show him proper affection yet.

"Well, you better stop and try to at least get some shut-eye, I'm sure everyone expects you to be at your best tomorrow, no bags under your eyes."

You were pretty sure you heard Junmyeon say something about a show tomorrow and that he needed Chan to be well-rested for it.

"Tell your mini-you to stop running tracks in my head then." he requested, laughing a little. Funny how, even though you could only hear him, you could easily picture his sharp canines peeking out from the corners of his top lip.

Shuffling could be heard on his end of the line and you assumed he was more than likely also laying in his bed.

"Mini-me, get out of my Chan's head now! He needs to rest; tomorrow is a busy day for him, and you aren't helping." You barely noticed your slip of the tongue by calling him yours, yet you didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's all I get? Wow and here I was expecting a title or something a little more...endearing. Dang." He mused.

You knew what he wanted to hear, you just liked playing dumb once in a while.

You and Chan had known each other for a while now, however, just recently did your relationship turn into a romantic one, as it wasn't always so.

"Oh~ you mean something like my SUPER BEST FRIEND Chanyeol?" You teased; knowing perfectly well you were more than that.

"We're not JUST friends and you know it. Plus I don't think Sehun would want me to compete for that place in your life." he answered so quickly, you were sure you even heard a slight snarl escape with the sentence. He knew you were teasing him, but you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose to not let it get to him.

"I know nothing Park Chanyeol" you smiled to yourself.

There were a couple seconds of silence before he sighed deeply and took another approach.

"So, tell me, baby, what does an undead man have to do, so his ex-prey/ex-friend understands that she is no longer either of those and has escalated to soulmate?"

"If people knew that, they would probably come to the conclusion that I developed Stockholm syndrome."

It was an old inside joke, you both knew that. However, it wasn't too far away from the truth.

Chanyeol was a vampire, and you were once his prey, simple as that. Yet if anyone knew how your relationship with Chanyeol began, they would think you were either masochistic or probably crazy.

"We've had this conversation and we aren't going back to it." He defended jokingly.

"I've said nothing that's untrue, but, back to your original question on how to make me understand that we are now 'soulmates' or whatever that means..."

He scoffed at that, knowing well that you were more than likely making air quotes for the word soulmate, because you really didn't believe in that crap, yet study sessions with Sehun said otherwise.

"Hush! You may prove yourself to be my soulmate by feeding me with a delicious food bouquet."

He laughed a little too loud at that one, leave it to you to make a dent in Chanyeol's bank account by getting him to buy you food.

"First of all, did you just hush me?" he seemed much more awake the longer you bantered, however, the whole thing was lulling you to sleep.

"Yes, so…?”

You heard a deep sigh and slight grumbling coming from him, probably complaining about how you think about food 24/7 but not about him, when he was suddenly back on the phone.

"Anyways, Buffalo or BBQ?"

"Half-and-a-half please and thank you."

"Your wings bouquet will be at your office tomorrow at 12."

"Thank you~" You could feel yourself fully relaxing and losing consciousness, sleep now finally reaching you and you hated to admit that maybe it did have something to do with the soulmate thing.

Both lines remained silent for a couple more minutes, none of you ready to hang up on the other until you finally decided to speak.

"I love you... soulmate" your own heart skipped a beat after the word left your lips, something you won't admit to Chanyeol ever, yet somehow, you felt like he already knew about it.

"I love you more baby. I think I can go to sleep now."

"Mm-hmm, me too." You answered half yawning.

You have no idea who ended the call, but you did recall hearing his deep chuckle before slumber took over you and you just had to accept that his laugh was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

♡¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡*¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡*¤▪•°°°•▪¤*♡

I hope you guys enjoyed the little drabble.

[taecalikook]

When the sea sleeps

summary : marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

{fake marriage! au, strangers to lovers!au}

pairing : kim seokjin x reader

genre : major tooth rotting fluff, crack, smut(?)

word count : 23.720 (one-shot)

warning! mention of period and masturbation, daddy kink, big cock! seokjin, teasing, cock sucking, rough blowjob, deep throat, nipple play, oral (female receiving), riding, cum play, major fluffy love talk (?), dry hump, infidelity mentions, etc. ((omg))

“Hi, I am in the mart near our apartment. Anything you want?”

“Yes, please. I think we ran out of toothpaste and cleaning liquid. And can you get the usual donuts as well? Thank you.” Your husband replies meekly from the other side of the call. You hum in agreement, noting the order. 

“Will you be home soon?” You ask mundanely, a question based out of routinity instead of wanting an answer. Well, that’s just how it is with Seokjin.

“I don’t think so. Might have to stay late for work. You should head to bed first.”

“Okay, then. See you.” You nod and cut the call, shoving the phone to your pocket.

It’s been like this for the past two and a half years with Seokjin. Meeting him after being introduced by your mother, getting married after six months of vague dating, and then living rather as a roommate than husband and wife in your small apartment. Life has been good.

Well, it’s not like you are married for love.

Seokjin is 33 years old this year, and you are 31. Years ago, you weren’t really interested in marriage. You were fully capable of living on your own, not really interested in love and that’s about it. Even so, your mother never stopped sending you lists of men she’s going to introduce you to—but you quickly shut her off by busying yourself with work and all. 

Yet no matter how heartless you might be, seeing your mother crying her heart out before bed for god to give you a good husband and family, you finally caved and agreed to one blind date. She couldn’t be happier to give you the name of your suitor. 

Kim Seokjin. A 31 years old, living in his own apartment, working in a local bank as a manager. 

When you first heard about him, there’s no outstanding or over the top qualities he possessed, and probably that’s how you prefer him to be. Yet when you saw him first, there’s literally nothing else you preferred him to be.

“I’m sorry for this, but… I actually have no interest in marriage.”

He thought you would be slapping him across the face after saying such a ridiculous statement on the first meeting, yet when your face lightened up, he was not less than confused. 

“Me too! I only did this because of my mother.” You squealed in delight of finding the person that shares your pain. “I never intend to get married myself.” 

“God, I was scared you’ll take this the wrong way.” He finally sighed in relief, was afraid of offending you. “My mother, she is.. sick right now, and she has never stopped saying that she wants to see me married before she dies.”

“I understood that. And I’m sorry, I hope she’ll be fine soon.” You sincerely wished him well. As far as you were concerned, Seokjin looked like a great guy. He deserved better, anyway, and high chance he would be a good friend. It’s not often to see someone not too desperate to chase love after reaching your age.

After another hour talking about anything but yourself, Seokjin reaches out for the bill. “Are you up for desserts?” He asked with a thin smile, and you nod happily, thinking about the sweets you were about to consume.

That evening, when your mother asked what happened with the date, you told her that she shouldn’t expect more about Seokjin. Yet the day after, Seokjin messaged you asking for a second date, your mother was over the moon. And that was how you spent another six months in a vague relationship with Seokjin, where it seemed like both of you were serious, yet there’s no feelings attached. Seokjin was a best friend, and an outstanding listener, but that’s about it. 

One day, Seokjin asked about the idea of marrying you, whether you would detest the idea. And strangely, you didn’t. The week after, Saturday night you were just sitting in his apartment eating his homemade dishes, Seokjin asked whether you wanted him to marry you. After setting a few basic rules, and just like that you agree. 

That’s how you’ve been living with a bestfriend-like-husband.

Sex is absolutely off limit, and not that Seokjin has initiated it before. You are sleeping in the same bed, but Seokjin generously chooses the giant king bed that is rather disproportionate to the whole room to ensure both of you have personal space in bed. In the morning, Seokjin usually cooks, and you’ll take turns cleaning the apartment. You’ll water the small plants near the window, changing your bed sheet, and cleaning your wedding photo from dust. 

On Saturday or Sunday, both of you will have brunch together in the nearest cafe then lounge around watching netflix on your large TV. Once every month he’ll have a drink with fellow friends or you’ll meet up with your best friends, and meet with your parents or in-laws. 

Living with Seokjin is a series of routinity, and you actually don’t mind. Maybe you're already in the age when you are surreptitious, and had enough of surprises. 

After taking a long warm bath and getting inside your comfy sheets, you settle for a while in silence until a name comes up on your screen. Your mother-in-law is calling. You abruptly  rise to sit, pressing the green button. “Hi, mother. How are you doing?”

“I’m very great now listening to my precious daughter’s voice!” She gleefully squeals, strangely energized. You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already ten. Now it reminds you Seokjin’s not home yet. “Seokjin’s father is having a birthday lunch this Saturday. You can come right? Do come by eleven, okay?” 

“Ah, I see. We will, mom.” You smile, internally noting the event to let Seokjin reserve his time. The talks then continue with your condition, whether you’re well or having sickness whatsoever—you know she actually means to ask if you’re going to give her a grandchild anytime soon. You answer demurely, not that it surprises you as your own mother has been going on and on and on about it as well. But how can you say that when you haven’t even kissed him more than five times in the past two and a half years?

But to think about it, Seokjin really has a great self-control if he really is not having an affair—for the lack of better terms—outside your marriage. Not that it would upset you whatsoever, it’s just not something you’d rather discuss with each other. Both of you agreed it would be okay to do whatever you both want, as long as you’re open to each other—but so far, nothing has implied otherwise. You somehow feel an urgency to talk about it, as you know Seokjin is a healthy man who must have his own needs as well—the one you can’t help with. 

After the call ends, Seokjin enters your bedroom at the same time, looking crumpled as ever. The top two buttons on his shirt are undone, face looks beyond exhaustion, and… the fly of his trousers is opened. You are unable to hold a sly smile.

“Are you tired?” You greet, and Seokjin nods, sighing deeply. 

“Today was pretty shitty. A client was being a jackass as per usual.” Seokjin throws his bag on the table, taking off his suit. “I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You can sleep first.”

You hum. “Okay. I turned up the water heater, so you can go in now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Seokjin sighs in relief.

“You’re welcome. And Saturday, your father is having a birthday lunch and your mother asked us to come. Do arrange your schedule. And Seokjin?” You ask, and Seokjin looks up to you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

“Your fly is open.”

“Fuck.” He curses and looks down, immediately zipping it close. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. And I swear it was nothing, I may have forgotten to close it in the restroom before going home.”

“It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, anyway.” You heartily giggle in amusement—with lots of subtle meaning behind words—settling back on your side of bed and hearing Seokjin softly closes the door behind him.

*

It’s already Friday, and somehow you still feel anxious. The day is closing soon, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting your in-laws for a family lunch, yet you are aware it’s not that simple. You have to pretend you have a real, conservative marriage with Seokjin, and it stresses you out. Not because you have to pretend to be in love—you’d rather think you’re relatively good at that, but having to lie to his parent’s face that Seokjin’s dick has ever entered you to get them a grandchild is nauseating.

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” Hoseok chuckles, tapping your shoulder. “It’s Friday night. You should be all smiles.”

“Just meeting a few of my in-laws tomorrow. I’m a bit… nervous. That’s all.”

Jane who is sitting beside you immediately joins in. “Ah, that’s hard. My in-laws are jackasses, hence I’d rather steer clear from any family meetings. Why are you nervous? Are they annoying bastards as well?”

“No, they’re not like that.” You shake your head, confused on how to explain that you are not having a real marriage with Seokjin like most married couples. You’d rather not. “Well, I think I’m just having cold feet. That’s all.”

“You should come with us, then.” Hoseok offers with a whole ass large smile which shows his perfect teeth. “We’re having a drink tonight. No worry, we’re not going all the way to night. Just a slow one. You’ll be fine.”

That’s how you agreed to attend with a few of your peers, notably Hoseok and Jane who are your teammates, Namjoon from Legal, Jungkook from Accounting, and a few other friends you are only on name basis with. It surely started slow, and you gave Seokjin a short call before entering the bar. 

“Seokjin, hi. I’m out for drinks with friends, I’ll be a bit late, okay? But not too late though, only for two hours, three hours max.” You smile at Jungkook who is asking you to come. You gesture for him to enter before you. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

“I see. Where are you drinking exactly?” He asks calmly. You quickly mention the name and address of the bar. “Okay. Let me know when you’ll be coming home, I’ll get you.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I think Hoseok or Jungkook can drive me home. No worry.”

“I see. Be safe, okay? And don’t get too hammered, we still have that lunch tomorrow.” Seokjin calmly reminds you. Probably due to the fact that you’re that quick to lose control, and the struggles he had to face on a regular basis to deal with drunk you.

Something inside you stirs at the remembrance of tomorrow’s event, but you quickly shrug it. You’re drinking to forget, anyway.  “Of course. See you!”

As it should’ve been easily predicted, you’re really loose with your alcohol control, especially with the great atmosphere and company. With Hoseok and Jane, one drink becomes two, and then four, and then in a blink, you lose count. You really should’ve predicted it, now drunkenly blabbering whatever inside your mind. Yet at once, you stumble on your seat and nearly fall until Jungkook catches you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook checks up on you, staring at your blushing face, eyes hooded like completely feeling the alcohol dancing in your spine. “You look drunk, Y/N. Maybe you should cut the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I think I should.” You sigh, resting the glass back on the table. You rub your forehead. “I shouldn’t be drinking, since tomorrow I’m meeting my in-laws, and it’s.. fucking.. suck! You know why, Jungkook?” Jungkook shakes his head, amusement visible in his eyes while looking at you.

“Because they’ll keep asking about grandchildren.” You scoff. “They’ll keep wanting me to have a child, especially with the fact that Seokjin’s younger brother already has three of those. But how can I say it to them?”

“Why? Is there any reason you don’t want to have kids? Are you waiting?”

You hit the table with your fisted hand, aggrieved. “It’s not that. How can I when.. when.. I haven’t even had sex with my own husband?” 

“What?” Jungkook really couldn’t believe his ear. You have been married for more than two years and haven’t had sex with your husband? How is that even possible is beyond him. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Y/N.” 

Jungkook looks back at the source of the voice, finding Seokjin’s dark eyes looking at your figure, resting your head on the table. Jungkook immediately lets go of his hand on your skin. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She must be drunk.” Seokjin sighs, circling his hands around your waist. Not that he didn’t expect it, but he feels extremely uncomfortable with the fact that someone else is aware of your little arrangement, especially with it being someone he doesn’t even know besides a name. “I’ll take her now. Here.” He says, slapping a few bills for your drinks.

Not even muttering goodbyes for Jungkook or other drunk people on the table, Seokjin instantly takes you back to his car. A minute of silence he’s staring at your face, Seokjin lightly flicks your head in annoyance before taking off, after ensuring you’re well secured on the passenger side.

*

“I’m sorry.”

The moment you’re awake, the memory instantly hits you like a truck inside your throbbing head. Constantly shoving drinks up your throat, dancing with Jane and Hoseok, and little talk with Jungkook. You also faintly make out Seokjin’s face getting you from the bar in your memory—right before passing out. God, it’s totally a mess. You really should avoid drinks again at all costs now.

“Are you awake?” Seokjin calmly asks while stirring breakfast on the pan. You nod, standing beside him. “The soup will be ready in a second. You can get our plates.”

Realizing that the talk is about to happen, you silently follow his order and prepare a few of the utensils on the table. You sit down to wait for Seokjin to join, and when he does, you are still waiting for him to open the conversation. In the midst of eating in silence, Seokjin suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you want to have a child?”

Out of shock, you literally choke on your soup, the liquid entered the wrong pipe. Yet even when tapping your back lightly, he still has the nerves to laugh. 

“That’s not funny!” You scowl in annoyance, gulping the water Seokjin offered. Your husband is a total jerk, you really should’ve known.

“It is. And I really need to know, since last night you were talking to your friend about our sexless marriage in such a heart wrenching manner I just had to ask.”

You are silenced in guilt with the mention of last night, resting back the glass. “It’s not like that.” 

Seokjin cocks his head. “So what is it like?”

“No, I was just stressed about the fact that our families are pressuring us to have a child.” You sigh, never actually telling Seokjin about the pressure on your shoulder. “My mother even once asked me to consult with Obstetricians if my eggs are not working. Why didn’t she doubt your sperm instead?! Annoying.”

“Y/N. You really should’ve told me if my mother and yours has been pressing you to have a child.” Seokjin speaks in good nature, even with a hint of scolding. “I will let her know that it’s our decision, and we’ll have kids whenever we are ready.”

You nod. “Thank you. And I’m very sorry, by the way. Yesterday was a bit much, I know.”

“It’s fine.” He says, tapping the top of your head. “I’ll take a bath first, and we’ll go about an hour. Okay?”

And as predicted, the one that welcomes you and Seokjin even from far is Taehyun, Taehyung’s five years old eldest son. He runs with his two little feet with a light shout of glee until he clings to Seokjin’s thigh. “Auntie! Uncle! Hi!”

“Hi, Taehyun! How are you?!” Seokjin instantly takes him by the waist, bringing him up to his grasp and kisses his lumpy cheek. You are unable to hide a swooned smile. “Are you a smart boy now? Have you made friends in kindergarten?”

“Of course!” He squeals, and proceeds to tell him about his exciting kindergarten stories. You walk in, immediately welcomed by Tasha, Taehyung’s wife in a bear hug. “Sister-in-law! How are you doing? You look great.”

“I’m fine, Tasha, thanks.” You giggle in delight. You have always been close with Tasha, as she is a wonderful woman and a good friend as well. “You look amazing. And god, that hair is exquisite.”

Tasha laughs while sheepishly fixing her hair of light purple highlights. “Got a few dirty looks from my boss and Taehyung’s mother, but it’s all worth it I guess. Who said mother of three can’t rock highlights, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“You two beautiful ladies should come in.” Seokjin’s father beams at the two, gesturing to enter the house. “My wife has already prepared loads and loads of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Happy birthday, father.” You smile, giving the old man a hug. “I hope this year is the best year that brings happiness to your life.”

“Well, a wish that this is not my last year in life is sufficient, but that is well welcomed as well.” He jokes, as the three of you enter the home. “Thanks anyway, Y/N. Greatly appreciated.”

“My granddaughters!” Your mother-in-law literally shouts, kissing you both on the cheek. “You both look amazing. My two sons should be thanking their lucky stars for having you both as a wife.”

“We are, mother. Every night.” Taehyung appears on your side, giving you a side hug of welcome. “How are you, sister-in-law? You’re doing great, right?”

“Amazing, Taehyung. Thank you for asking. I hope you’re well rested while taking care of the lovely miniatures of you.” You look at the three children, Taehyun, the twin Taejin and Taerin playing with their toys in the middle of the living room with your husband. 

“The sitter helps, of course.” Taehyung giggles, and Tasha elbows him with a scowl. Your mother quickly wraps the heart warming greetings and guides the whole family to be seated for the lunch prepared. And boy is the dining table packed with countless foods, not even including the dessert on the small table in the corner of the room. You just hope this won’t go to waste.

“No worries, we’ll be packing this as well to have it distributed to neighboring orphanages along with a few other donations.” Seokjin’s mother beams, sensing your worry after looking onto the countless plates.

An hour passes by quickly with the family digging on the delish in front of them. While chatting among themselves, Taehyung and Tasha hand their own gift to his father. “Here it is, father. Happy 65th birthday, hope you are always happy and healthy.” He beams, hugging his father. The large package is heavy on his hand, and your father in law laughs in glee.

It was a beautiful sight, yet you feel terribly uneasy. You haven’t gotten him anything, and Seokjin never discussed this before. How can you forget? God, you’ve really shame yourself and Seokjin in front of his family.

“What is this?” The old man questions and rips the wrapper.

“Open it.” Father quickly opens the package, and sees multiple items neatly stuffed in the box. “Healthy supplements and tea, warm jacket, acupuncture mat, few other things that can help you live longer.” Taehyung grins. The old man rolls his eyes, but nonetheless looks content with the gift.

“Thank you, son! Will put this into a good use.”

Amongst your panic of reaching out to Seokjin beside you, he instead takes turns in handing the gift of his own, an envelope, which catches you by surprise. He never talked about bringing a gift before. “This is from me and Y/N, father. Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” Your father curiously opens the envelope. At once, he literally squeals, unable to hide the delight in his face. “A two way ticket to Japan? Son, this is too much.”

“It’s not. It’s the least we can do for you and mother.” Seokjin says good-naturedly, like the precious son he is. You stare at him strangely. “Y/N and I also arranged a few stops that could be great to improve your health as well. No worries, there will be a guide as you’ll be on tour.”

“Thank you, son!” Your father and mother take turns hugging both you and Seokjin, and you only reply while in a hazen state, don’t know how or what to feel. As long as you know, it all comes from his pocket, and it’s his money to spend. You don’t even know why you feel weirded out. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can you at least pretend my gifts are worthy too?” Taehyung jokes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “The health supplements cost a fortune too, father! You’re being too mean with your reaction.”

“I’m just so happy my two sons are happy with their own family.” The old man beams in delight. “And your mother prepared a gift for you and Seokjin too, Y/N. Darling, you can give it to them, okay? I’m going to the restroom.”

“Why aren’t you giving it to me too?” Taehyung whines to his mother as Tasha elbows him for the nth time already. 

“You don’t get one because you don’t need it, Taehyung.” 

Seokjin’s mother quickly shoves you a gift with the largest of smiles, and truth to be told, you instantly feel uneasy. A gift in which you need and Taehyung don’t? An easy guess instantly comes to your senses. It must be it. There’s no other way.

“We’ll open this when we get home.” You turn your head to Seokjin, seeing how expressionless he has become. Is he angry? He swiftly takes the gift from you, resting it on the other side of the room.

“Ah, it’s good to. Just be careful using it, okay? It’ll be very helpful with the conception, trust me. It’s been passed down with generations.” Seokjin’s mother winks, looking very satisfied, yet you feel queasy, feeling like you’re soon puking your heart out. On your side, you can detect how silent Taehyung and Tasha have become, and you swear you never felt this pathetic and miserable before.

“Thank.. you.”

Seokjin holds you by the hand with his face is beyond enraged now—yet you know he could never be angry with his parents. He’s a mama's boy, and you like it that he is, but you really feel like going home and crying your heart out. But you have to endure longer hours feeling like total shit with your in-laws around.

“Father, mother, Y/N and I had to go home. I just remember we had stuff to do at home.” Seokjin curtly says, and you whip your head at him in surprise. You mostly did not expect it. 

“Why? You don’t really have to do it right now—but if you really have to, it’s okay.” Your mother giggles, content with the idea that you and your husband need to leave because both of you are going to fuck and give them grandchildren. God, your head literally throbs with the misunderstanding.

“Y/N, get to the car.” Seokjin mutters tensely, there is not a hint of emotion beside morse in his tone. “Mom, can we talk?”

“Seokjin, no.” You whisper while tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do it.”

“Y/N, get to the car.” He repeats, like he is not up for any negotiation. You are scared of what he’s going to say to his mother. Is he going to say about the fact that your marriage is faux and is only done to please her? But that’s not what you want, just thinking about it makes you sick. “You can leave the gift here.”

Mildly confused at the sudden tense situation, your mother-in-law silently nods and complies to talk with her son. Against his order, you pick up the gift and move to give Taehyung, Tasha and their three children a parting hug. 

“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Tasha worriedly says, and you nod with a strained smile. “Be safe in driving home.”

“We will. Taehyung, thanks.” You hug the pouting guy, as he gives you a squeezing hug of consolation. 

“Our parents can be prodding like that. I am very sorry.”

Walking back into the room finding the confusing tense, Seokjin’s father looks at you about to say goodbye. “Are you leaving?” 

“Yes. I’m afraid we have something coming up.” You forced a smile, yet you know your father-in-law completely understands the whole situation.

“Okay then. Give this old man a parting hug.” The kind man then hugs you dearly like you’re a daughter he never had. “Thank you for coming. And I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing! Everything is great.” Like an idiot, you still try to lie through your teeth in front of the wise man—it’s ridiculous. “Happy birthday, father.”

Walking inside Seokjin’s car, you patiently wait another ten minutes until he comes in with an unreadable expression. And when he sits beside you, he heave a deep breath. 

“Is everything okay? What did you say?” You fret in panic.

“Nothing much. That it’s already tough for both of us now, and we’ll have kids whenever we want to.” Seokjin hums, glancing at the gift his mother gave yet refusing to comment. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t realized this before. I know it must be stressing you out.”

“Not really. I’m just.. tired.” You hollowly laugh, Seokjin slowly taking off the house onto the street. Spending a few minutes staring at the gift secured on your lap, you mutter—more to yourself. 

“Do you think we should just have a child?” 

At the unexpected question, Seokjin glances at you. Next five minutes are spent in deep silence before...

“Do you love me?”

The questions really create a ripple of shock in your whole body. You literally have no idea whether he’s being serious or not.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want to have a child when both of us know there is no love here. We both don’t love each other.” Seokjin mutters lowly, eyes trained on the road. “Let’s not put more innocent people into misery.”

Misery.

Misery.

You don’t know why that word hurts more than you thought it would, coming out from Seokjin’s mouth.

*

As expected, the things between you and Seokjin have become pretty frosty. Sunday morning, he excused himself to go fishing with Yoongi—his best friend of ten years, and you were thankful that you do not have to waste another second in his presence. Being with him is hard enough, not that you have to be reminded of the hurtful things he said.

Misery.

Yes, misery indeed. Having to marry someone you don’t have feelings for. 

But you thought he was a friend. Not that you chained him into this, and he was the one asking your hand in loveless marriage. He is being a total jackass. And you never should’ve said such nonsense. Having a child with someone you don’t love? Seriously? Even couples in love can end up in divorce because of kids—much less your ridiculous marriage.

And it sucks that this suffocates your whole being yet you can’t tell anyone, since nobody really knows you don’t have any attachment to your husband.

Well, beside...

“Hello? Is this Y/N?”

Listening to the velvety voice on the other side of the call, you instinctively gulp. Are you seriously going to talk to someone about this, more less Jeon Jungkook? You must be quite desperate. “Hi, Jungkook! I’m sorry to interrupt you. Is this.. an alright time?”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side. “Well, not really, but I can make it alright for you.”

You groan, instantly retracting your own will to talk about it to him. “You seriously did not just flirt with a married woman, right?”

“Of course not! Who do you take I am.” He giggles in mirth, and you roll your eyes. You really made a mistake by calling him. “I’m a bit busy now, but will be free in around… an hour. Do you want to meet?”

“I didn’t exactly say what I wanted to ask for.”

“I just know.” Jungkook hums, and you literally can imagine his annoying smirk on the other side of the call. “I’ll text you the details.”

You spend another seconds in silence, but reply nonetheless. There’s no harm in meeting a friend. Right? 

“Sure.”

*

“So let me get this straight. You—in this advanced, 21st century—agreed to a marriage where the both of you don’t even have little bit of interest in marriage? And all because your parents want you to?”

Now that Jungkook is saying it in front of your face, it does sound foolish.

“Is it.. weird?”

“What the fuck, Y/N. It’s not just weird. It’s crazy.” Jungkook scoffs, feeling the firsthand headache of dealing with the situation you are currently in. “I don’t know how much of a good daughter you are, but this is nuts. You are seriously chaining yourself to a relationship just out of pity, and because of someone else. You know that phrase ‘having only love is not enough in marriage’? You don’t even have that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, quite dejected that Jungkook really has to phrase it like that. The urge to defend yourself rushes unto you. “Yes, I know what we are doing now is silly, but I actually have no regret. Seokjin is a great guy, a good companion as well, and it’s basically just a living arrangement. I’m good.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. “You know, you could’ve been with someone else that you truly love. Did you realize that?”

“I won’t.” You answer almost instantly, doting the cheesecake in the middle of your table. “I’m not interested. I am living well on my own, and I don’t really think I have anyone for me. I am comfortable with myself.”

“And why’d you trade that precious solitude of yours with someone you don’t even love?” Jungkook challenges, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Because if that’s how I can make someone else happy, I would.” You answer, looking back at Jungkook’s prodding eyes. “My mother, my father, have taken care of problematic me since I was a little kid. And now all they wanted is for me to have someone that cares for me, and who I deeply care for. And if getting married is the only way they can live and die happily… I’d do anything.”

Jungkook is easily silenced at your unexpected outburst, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder after saying what you truly feel to someone else. It feels almost relieving, the fog living in your shoulder lightens.

“But you know they’d truly be disappointed if you are lying to them, right? Lying that you are happy. Lying that you love your husband.” He observes you in concern. You smile lopsidedly.

“Well, maybe in my case, a little white lie won’t hurt.” You whisper to yourself, sipping on your beverage.

*

After hanging out a bit longer with Jungkook, you found yourself comfortable being around him. He is a great guy, albeit annoying and too curious for his own good, he is nice and easy to talk to. You were never really close to him, and usually a rather closed person, but Jungkook is too good at getting you out of your shell. 

Walking out from his car, you are stunned when finding Seokjin is also getting out of his own, about to enter your apartment building. He mirrors your expression, a paper bag filled with foods and in his right grasp is his favorite donuts box. 

“Hi.” He greets with cocked eyebrows. “I bought meat to cook for dinner.”

“Ah, I already ate dinner.” You guiltily scratch your nape, glancing to the car beside you. Jungkook is just about to drop you off, but you have no idea why he is not leaving yet. “You went home from Yoongi’s?”

“Yes.” Seokjin points to the car. “Who is it? Did you meet with friends?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. But he’s just about to leave—”

“Hi man.” Jungkook is somehow already standing right beside you as you flinch in your spot, and he offers his hand. “I guess I never properly introduced myself. I’m Jungkook, Y/N’s workmate.”

“Ah, Jungkook. We met before, right? I am sorry, yesterday was quite chaotic, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Jin smiles benevolently, shaking the younger man’s hand. “I’m Seokjin, the husband. Do you want to come in? I’m cooking steak for dinner.”

“Nah, I already had dinner with Y/N. But I’ll take you up on that, though. Let’s get dinner another time.” Jungkook agrees, and gives you a light tap in the back as a goodbye. “Got to go, but I’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye, Jungkook.” You reply meekly and turn back to Seokjin, staring back at you with a strange expression. “Are you good?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiles impartially, shifting his expression. “Let’s get in, you’ll catch a cold.”

*

In a way, Seokjin realizes that something changes with you ever since coming back from his father’s birthday party. You were usually a chirpy, active person, unbothered to speak your mind, talking about Hoseok or your patronizing boss and made the apartment as loud as possible with your late night exercise—yet here you are, silently sitting down on your side of bed, watching your favorite series from phone. 

And you clearly stated how you hate watching with your phone that he knows you are avoiding him—not wanting him to join watching it with you in the living room. And what irks him is this passive aggressive thing has been going on since last week, and it’s already Thursday. He desperately needs the old you back.

“Why are you watching it on the phone?” Seokjin asks, a vague irritation slipped in his tone. “The TV is good to watch. And you hate watching it on the phone.”

You are confused to say the least, blinking your eyes at him. Your finger pauses the show. He remembers that? “Uh.. I’m just… feeling like laying in bed while watching. Is there something wrong?”

“No, don’t lie to yourself now. You are clearly avoiding me.” Seokjin hisses, unable to hide anymore of his annoyance. “And this has been going on for a week. You didn’t even let me know if you’re coming home, and rejected that one time I said I’ll get you from the office. What’s wrong?”

“I told you it’s nothing. My work is the opposite direction of your way to home. It’ll be easier to go home directly.” You reason stubbornly, trying to make sense—even if you know you really are avoiding him. You don’t want to let him know that you are hurt by the things he said, and to be frank, looking at him pissess you off a bit. Like right now.

“Y/N, you know that we are too old for this shit. You need to tell me right now if I did something wrong.” He states earnestly. You roll your eyes, not feeling to drag the conversation and position yourself back to watching.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, maybe I’m going on menopause.”

Seokjin huffs, looking at you already settling back to watching—yet he is too determined to end all this bullshit that he discards the phone you’re watching onto the bed. You gape at him, dumbfounded that he really did that to get your serious attention. “Stop being a child and talk to me like adults.” He scowls.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you It’s nothing.” You shout, trying to get your phone back yet missing due to Seokjin’s quick wit of taking and hanging it far above his head. And poor you, that are seriously no match to his height.

“Give me back my phone, you jerk!”

“Might be a jerk but at least I’m not a 30 years old woman having menopause.” He mocks your nonsense, yet you are too resentful to give a shit that you literally climb on bed and jump to leech your whole weight on him like a freaking koala. Seokjin literally yells at your attempt of getting stable by clutching on his hair, pulling it to whichever direction you prefer. “Ah, get off me! It hurts and you’re heavy!”

“I don’t care! You’re being a jerk, and I’m a misery anyway, right? I’m just fulfilling my duties!” You howl, shaking your body that he shrieks, losing his balance and falls on your large bed. And like how most sleazy cringy telenovela, he just had to settle on top of you, but for one teeny different, his whole weight is now crushing your being like a sweet revenge. 

“Get off me! You’re heavy.” You screech like a petulant child, punching the guy on his broad ass shoulder. After a whole minute of finally begging him to get off, Seokjin finally gets on his elbow, giving a bit of space for you to breathe.

“I apologize that I upset you.” He gazes at you in all sincerity that literally leaves you holding your breath. “It was not true when I said that misery thing. You are not a misery. You are a blessing. The fact that we are married could be the greatest thing that happens to me, and I’ll never trade it for anything else.”

You are silenced, waiting for him to continue. “I was just pissed off with myself that I was insensitive about how everyone is pressuring you, and you are struggling because of this. I actually never thought about those snarks, and I thought you would too.” Seokjin softly claims, and you are near to tears that he literally speaks like honey. “I just thought it was off limits. I guess we should’ve talked more about this before.”

You sigh, looking down. “I do think so. And I’m sorry too—I guess I should’ve just said what’s bothering my mind.” You breathe out with a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for acting like this. I guess that misery thing just got to me more than I thought it would, and.. yeah. Let’s communicate better.”

“We should.” He hums in delight. “You are cuter when you are less grumpy. You know that?”

“I am cute in any way possible.” You sassily reply, expecting a snarky comment as retaliation yet Seokjin’s lips curl in amusement.

“Well, I can’t comment on that.” He beams, and at that  your heart literally skips a beat. or two. or more than you can count. “I want to watch what you’re watching. Let’s watch it on the TV, your eyes must be hurting doing all these grumpy behavior.”

“Yeah, I do think so. It’s like.. exhausting.” You rub your temple. “I hate being crabby.”

“Yes. It doesn’t suit you. At all.” Seokjin pulls both your cheeks in different directions with sparkling eyes. You groan. “So don’t do that to your husband, okay?”

At that, you peer at him silently while he’s searching the series you love on the TV. The way he is able to easily soothe you is.. pissing you off.

“By the way, a new movie is premiering next week and I bought us a ticket. Wanna watch it with me?” He turns to you, still with the same adorable smile. And it literally sucks that something weakens inside you at that smile.

Ugh, there’s gotta be something wrong with you.

*

Another week goes and there you are, Thursday night about to head out after a whole day of work. Tidying your desk, suddenly a voice stops your wandering mind—it belongs to your desk mate.

“Why are you so happy today? You’re all whistling and it starts creeping me out.” Hoseok snickers, suddenly peering close to you. “Did you get a good dick down yesterday?”

“What the hell, Hoseok?” You groan, closing your laptop with a loud thump. “It’s not it. Can’t a girl just be happy without any reason?”

“No. That means you're crazy. And it’s coming from Y/N, the grumpies person on the planet.” Jane titters, joining your conversation. You started to doubt what kind of connection they had whenever it concerns you. “You must had a good sex yesterday. You know, I am curious on how Seokjin is in bed. Is he a bit dom? Looks a bit kinky, I have to say.”

“Of course! The way he acts is a complete giveaway, he must have a choking kink, or maybe bondage. Daddy kink is absolutely, by default.” Hoseok responds with curiosity. Jane snickers as you are busy gasping for air.

“And his dick?! You know, the first time I saw him, I immediately knew this guy has a big dick energy. I bet his is girthy—”

“Shut up!” You literally stop her from speaking, your palm secured to close on her mouth—yet unable to manage the blush weeping your whole face to neck. You feel hot and bothered. “Stop talking about such things! I am just in a good mood. Ugh, you two are seriously perverts.”

“Yes, okay, we’ll stop before you burst your flaming ear.” Hoseok singsongs, utterly amused by your reaction. You shot him a look. “By the way, tomorrow is a long weekend. Do you both have any plans?”

“Besides taking care of my child? Nah, bro. Might have sex if he’s lucky and stop running his mouth too much. And we had to stay in my husband’s family house. Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes whilst taking her own belongings. “I’m just happy we get to have dinner tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting as fuck.”

“Dinner? What dinner?” You are weirded out, most absolutely did not expect to promise any dinner. 

“My birthday dinner, of course!”

You whip your head towards the guy in a fancy red suit, completely looking dashing and silly at the same time. Well, that’s what you expect of him anyway, wearing such eye catching outfit in the middle of workday. “I sent the invites this Monday, and you said yes, Y/N.” He continues. “And you didn’t even congratulate me! How mean. But I’ll let you off since you’re cute.”

“But—but, I can’t! I have something else to do..” You stutter. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at you.

“What? Watching netflix and eating popcorn? Nah, bro. You’re coming.”

“But, I’m serious! I’m sorry, but Seokjin is already downstairs, and he’s waiting for me. I can’t.. just leave him behind.” You weren’t going to say this, but Seokjin said he was craving lobster and asked you to go on a dinner with him. You really didn’t remember you had agreed to an appointment before with your workmate.

Jungkook stares at you in mild surprise. “He’s in the lobby? What happened with the two of you? I thought—”

“What are you saying, Jungkook? Isn’t it normal for a husband to get her wife from work?” Hoseok chuckles, and at once Jungkook is like awakened from his hallucination. 

“Yes, of course. My bad.” He nervously chuckles, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “But he should come! It’s only going to be the four of us, and Namjoon. He’s waiting in the lobby too.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a great idea…”

“Seokjin should come! It would be fun, you know. I want to have dinner with him.” Jane smirks, and you sigh loudly, knowing that this would end in a huge disaster and you’ll end up regretting. Yet you find yourself thinking of what to say to Seokjin. 

“Hi, Seokjin!”

Seokjin opens his window, smiling courtesy at Jane standing beside you. You remember Seokjin met few of your friends from work before. “Hi, Jane! Nice seeing you again. Are you heading home?”

“Not really. We are going to a restaurant! With Y/N too. You should come.”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Really? You didn’t say you had something to do.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” You frown in guilt. “It’s okay, I know we had plans—”

“No, I didn’t say that. We can come to the dinner with your friends too, if you want.” Seokjin chuckles, smiling dearly at you. You feel your breath hasten under his ministry. “Do you want that?”

Clearing your throat, you answer in nerves. “Yes, please. I promised to attend before, I guess I just forgot and thought I am free tonight.”

“Ah, I guess that’s why you’re all sooo chirpy today, aren’t you, Y/N?! I thought your teeth were about to fall off.” Jane beams, exhilarated as she elbows you. “Turns out you have a special occasion with your husband and forgot Jungkook’s birthday dinner.”

“That’s not it.” You glare at her, but she shrugs meaningfully.

“Okay, you two should head out. I’m with Hoseok.” Jane smiles and points at the blue car which you identify as Hoseok’s. “See you guys in a few minutes!”

“Sure.”

There is only silence in the car, when suddenly Seokjin breaks it with a question.

“Is it for Jungkook? That Jungkook—your friend that we met on our apartment?”

You don’t know what’s wrong, but your gut is telling you something is strange with his tone. You clear your throat of sheer awkwardness. “Yes. Today is his birthday, so he said he’d treat us to dinner.”

Seokjin seems uncomfortable. Living together for nearly two years has made you well aware of his small habit and gestures—by the way he clings on his collar, fingers tightening on the wheel as if he’s scared just shows you how he truly feels. At once, you quickly rests your palm on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Are you okay? You look.. nervous. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Waiting for the red light, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. His right hand settles on your hands which were on his shoulder, linking each finger. “I’m fine.” Seokjin sighs deeply, resting both your linked fingers on his thigh. 

“I’m fine.” He repeats.

Now all you can hear is your own irregular heartbeat, with his warm palms against yours. 

And you wonder. What the hell is wrong with yourself?

After arriving, Seokjin still doesn’t let your hand go. And it’s all kinds of confusing, two years of marriage he never acts like now. Not even when going to your parents house, and it leaves you with numerous questions. And with that particular look on his face—it scares the shit out of you.

“Ah, here comes the couple!” Jane giggles, pointing to the empty seats beside her. “You can sit here. Seokjin, meet Namjoon! He’s in Legal.”

Like that, all your friends are engaged in a conversation—while Seokjin, he’s sitting silently with heads hanging low. You glance at him, concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yes, your husband looks like he’s not really good. Is there anything wrong?” It is Jungkook, resting his wine back on the table. All of the eyes are now on the both of you. “Does this not work for you?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just a bit on the edge, that’s why. Don’t worry.” Seokjin smiles thinly, tapping his palm on the table. You nod hesitantly, regardless of the strangely tense air with him.

Whilst ordering, you are skimming on the menu when Jungkook jumps in. “Y/N, you like the shrimp here, right? You should order it.”

“Yes, I am thinking that too.” You tap your chin, and turn to Seokjin who is still staring far at the menu. “But I want to try the duck too. Seokjin, can’t you order that too? I don’t want to eat too much, I just want to have a bite.”

Seokjin is about to answer when Jungkook jovially interrupts, “Hey, there’s no need for that. You can order all you want. But if you insist, I’m ordering the duck, so you can have mine.”

“It’s okay, I’m having what my wife asked me to. Since I’m her husband. ” Seokjin curtly responds, and you are flabbergasted at how discourteous he sounded. The conversations on the table ended abruptly. 

“I—I see. Suit.. yourself.” Jungkook blinks his eyes, completely bewildered at the hostile response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward.”

You stare at him with multiple emotions rushing inside of you, yet he’s evidently trying to avoid it while shoving drinks down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. 

“You’re driving tonight.” Seokjin mutters to you between drinks, and it sounds more like an order to your ear. There’s definitely something off with him, and you’re terrified of finding out. You’re scared if it will change him, you, and what you both had together.

*

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jungkook glances in concern at your drunk husband beside you, his hand is at the top of your car while you’re on the driver side. “He’s drunk. You sure you’re going to be okay? I can come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reply. “I think he’s just not in a mood today. There must be something at work, I’ll try asking this tomorrow.”

“But I don’t like how jealous he was at me. I was just.. trying to be kind and offer to help. As a friend. And he immediately snaps like that.” Jungkook scowls in irritation. “It was borderline obsessive. And it’s not like you married for love—”

“Jungkook.” You stop him with reprimanding eyes that he stops immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep breath. “I never told you—or anyone about this, but my sister is a divorcee. Because her husband became obsessed with her.” You know where he is heading and are about to rebut, yet he continues. “I know what you want to say, but I’m just saying this so you’d know. They were in love. But you know it could easily turn to something else.”

“Thank you for your advice, but I know it won’t happen to me—Seokjin is not like that.” You mumble, somehow reminding yourself. It’s the first time Seokjin is like this, both of you were great at keeping boundaries, and were not even in love. You’ll be fine.

Jungkook sighs and smiles weakly, brushing the top of your head. 

“I hope so too. Get home safe, kid.”

*

Waking up, the first thing Seokjin feels is his pulsate, a straight pang to his head. It’s been a long time since he had let himself off the limit and trashed himself until he blacked out, and he regrets every single second. The hazy memory starts to invade his mind—about how rude he had been yesterday, especially to you—and it literally freaks him out that he jumps out of his bed, desperate to explain. But you are not sleeping beside him. Or anywhere in the apartment. 

“Fuck.” Seokjin hisses, bringing his phone and runs to the elevator in such hurries. 

Are you... possibly gone?

“Seokjin, what are you doing here?”

“Y/N. Where have you been?” He questions, a little bit loud.  He’s too caught tapping the elevator button that he doesn’t realize the other lift is opened with you walking out, soaking with sweat. “I wake up and you’re not there. You.. I thought you..”

“What did you think? I was just running a few laps since yesterday’s dinner was a bit much.” You shrug nonchalantly, taking off your earphone. “Aren’t you dizzy after waking up? You shouldn’t be out, though.”

Walking back to your apartment, Seokjin is trailing behind you like a disgruntled puppy—keeping his head down low as both his hands are clasped. “I’m very very sorry, Y/N..”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask, pretending nonchalance. Seokjin sits beside you with a frown on his face. 

“I was being a jerk yesterday? And I drank too much and you must have a hard time dealing with my sorry ass.” 

“Did anything happen? Can I know why you were so pissed off?” You ask carefully, afraid of invading his space. He shrugs.

“Something bothered my mind, that's all. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing how sullen he has been with himself, you are unable to pull both his chubby cheeks to different directions. He groans loudly with each pull. “Yes, you were such a ill-tempered baby yesterday when you were drunk. Do you know that?”

He nods begrudgingly. “Yes, mother. I won’t do it again.”

“But apologizing isn’t going to solve anything. You know it.” You pretend sulk. “I think I deserve three wishes.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows. “Why? Why does it have to be three?” 

“Nah, I watched Alladin and it was good, so I was just copying—but that’s not the point!” You tap the table impatiently. “The point is that you embarrassed me in front of my friend and deserves a punishment. Now say yes to my three wishes.”

Your husband groans, tapping on his forehead. “God, I’m never drinking again. What? What is it that you want?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually..” You giggle while scratching your head. Seokjin squint his eyes at you in suspicion. “Can you give me a week to think about it?”

“No.”

“Five days?”

“Right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, by tomorrow!”

“Three wishes all by the end of this day.”

“Fine! You are annoying.” You scowl, tapping your forefinger on your chin. Seokjin grins. “First, I want…lobster for lunch.” 

“Okay.” He holds the laughter upon remembering his yesterday’s request.

“And I want this new bag. I saw it on the newest catalogue yesterday, I want one. Buy it for me.” You send him a sugary smile.

“I see your wishes are getting more and more disproportionate.” 

You scoff. “But you promised to grant it!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to grant it.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, resting his palm on your shoulder, skimming it until his finger hangs to yours. Your breath hitches at how it practically tickles your whole being. “Is that all? Are you saving one for now?”

“Y-yes.” You stutter, mind already turning blank that you forgot your last wish.

“Good.” Seokjin beams, swiping his thumb on your knuckles. You stare through his eyes, adoring the beautiful twinkle that sends butterflies knocking on your stomach. How could he affect you like this?

W-wait, are you hallucinating or he is really closing in right now? I-is he.. about to kiss you?

Against your expectation, he suddenly halts and snorts. “Now go take a bath, because you stink.”

You push him away, walking to enter your bathroom with a face that has gone vermillion red—especially listening to his annoying squeaky laughter from the living room. You feel terribly embarrassed. 

Did you really think he’s about to kiss you? And why the fuck do you have to act like a preteen girl having a crush on a classmate? This is literally super annoying how your body is acting strange—like you don’t even have control.

Ugh, you should never done anything dangerous with him again.

*

After having lunch in the lobster place, you and Seokjin drive to the cinema for the movie he pre-ordered last week. Sitting side by side with him, you find yourself hesitating. 

You want to hold his hand so damn much.

And this never happened to you before. Watching with him always ends up with both of you pretending to fight for the popcorn, and you’ll be far apart from each other—just like you’re watching alone. The movie’s genre is thriller and suspense, yet horror didn’t even take it for you to finally lean into him or anyone, yet that evening, you want to hold him. 

Closing in, you feel his shoulder closing on yours, leaning onto him as support. Seokjin looks at you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine, I just—“

“Is this movie boring for you? Or are you cold? You want more popcorn or drink?” He queries in concern at your jumpiness.

“No.” You murmur, embarrassed at your own thought. Fuck, what were you thinking? There is no possible reason at all on why you want to hold him, it’s not making any sense and it irks you on how conflicted you’re feeling. “I just… nothing.”

Glancing at you, Seokjin sees how you’re mouthing to yourself and hitting your own forehead with a deep frown—and he couldn’t bite his smile back. With one fluid motion, he loops his arms with yours and withers your small palm against his, tapping slightly the side of his head with yours. 

“Let me know if you need anything else. Hmm?”

You blush hard, the creep of warmth running in your cheek like a wildfire. Clearing your throat, you decide to focus on whatever scene it is, not realizing how Seokjin glances at you from time to time, a toothy smile creeping in his face.

Walking out of the place, you were a bit panicked on seeing Seokjin again in broad light, but he’s still not letting go of your hands around his. You don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not—maybe you’re just afraid of finding out.

“Do you want to go window shopping? Maybe you’ll find that bag you want.” Seokjin offers, you are about to discard him—telling who the hell is still window shopping these days, or your desired bag is already on your online shopping cart, yet you don’t want to say so.

Maybe you just want to be with him a little bit longer.

Walking hand in hand to around the mall, both of you stop at the high end brand stores. Seokjin is about to walk in when you stop him. “Why are we entering this place? This is out of our budget.”

“Who said I want to buy you the bag from here? I want to see it for myself.” Seokjin lightly jokes, blowing raspberries and you scowl. Contrary to what he just said, Seokjin is directing you to the female side, where the tote bags are stacked. You laugh silently. Is he trying to be a tsundere now?

He looks at you and warmly smile. “See if there’s anything you like. I’m going to the restroom first, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him in fake suspicion. “You’re not leaving me here and fleeing home, right?”

“Busted.” He giggles and you grin. “Wait here, I’ll come back in a minute.”

After Seokjin leaves, you find yourself walking to see the bags in hesitance. Yet you know how expensive they are, and it even scares you to fall in love with a bag and realizing how struggling Seokjin has to be to buy it for you. The thought immediately retrains you from taking the tawny colored bag which catches your eyes the most.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You look back at the voice calling your name, and finding the person that hasn't even crossed your mind to be there. It’s Park Jimin, with his trademark eye smile peering curiously at you. “It is you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, a little bit surprised to see him here, even talking to you. Well, maybe the years of your troubling childhood does have its own reminder in the form of this man. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Ah, yes. After moving from Busan to Seoul, I am just living my life, I guess. Got engaged a few years ago, my fiancé and I moved to Sydney for school, and I headed back for the time being for her.” He smiles jovially, letting you know things more than you expect him to. You nod with a hint of hesitation—a bit surprised that he’s still practically the same him from your childhood. Guess nothing really changes to a spoilt kid from birth. 

“Honey, I have five items already on the cashier, won’t you—who is this?”

The woman is peering closely at you, the evident staring feels deadly uncomfortable on your skin. You know that look—she is judging you from top to bottom, whether you qualify as someone she should feel competitive with. But you don’t really want to spoil your great mood from the morning and reply nonetheless. “I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She responds rudely, and turns to Jimin. “Aren’t we going after paying?”

“Wait, I still want to talk with her. You can use this.” Jimin opens up his wallet, giving her a card and she leaves almost immediately. “I’m sorry, she can be like that sometimes.”

You shrug nonetheless. “I can see that.”

Ignoring your obvious sarcasm, Jimin continues. “So, where are you going? Do you want to have dinner with us? We should meet up again sometimes, you know—“

“Y/N.”

Turning to the man calling your name, it turns out to be your husband, staring at the both of you with jaw ticked and cold stare. And Jimin is no different, completely startled with the fact that it is Seokjin calling your name. At once, you feel estranged with the tense in the air.

“Seokjin. Hi, this is Jimin, my old friend. Jimin, this is Seokjin, my husband.”

Seokjin is the one to answer, tone blunt. “I know.”

After long pregnant silence, Jimin clears his throat, and gives your husband a thin smile. “Hi Seokjin. Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” You glance at both men with curiosity written in your face.

“Yes, Jimin was my junior in college. We were friends.” Seokjin answers with venom, and nobody can miss the way he pronounced the past tense. Jimin seems uncomfortable as well, trying to ignore the older guy and smiles at you.

“I didn’t know you’re married. When was the wedding? Why wasn’t I invited?” He laughs to discard the tense air, yet you can still sense the awkwardness coloring his tone.

“Ah, around two years ago, I think. My mother gave yours the invitation, but I guess it doesn’t work. It’s fine.” You shrug, keeping your courtesy no matter how much you want to shout what the fuck is going on with those two men.

“I am sorry, but I’ll send a gift your way. It’s very impolite of us.” Jimin offers kindly, but Seokjin cuts straight away.

“We don’t need it. Save your money to whom it belongs.”

You glare at Seokjin who is throwing his sight somewhere else. He never was impolite like this, and it stresses you out—the fact that you’re kept in the dark makes you feel like you’re basically second to nothing between the two of them. 

“Seokjin? Is that you?”

Jimin’s fiancé comes back with countless bags in her hand, and you can hear the loud enough snicker from Seokjin. “Ah, as expected.”

The girl looks surprised, to say the least. “What are you doing here? With her? Who is this girl?” 

At the condescending tone, you immediately turn defensive. She had no reason to talk to you and Seokjin like that. “Excuse me?” 

“Baby, don’t be like that. Y/N here is Seokjin’s wife.” Jimin murmurs softly to his fiancé, and the bitch still has the nerves to scoff with a sleazy smirk.

“Ah, finally. I am glad you finally got your shit together, stopped thinking about me and moved on.” She loops her hand around Jimin, rising her chin high. Your jaws are a second away from falling to the ground. What the hell is going on?! “And are you sure you can go here? Isn’t this too expensive for you?”

“What the fuck—”

You are ready to throw hands, but Jimin quickly pulls her away and so is Seokjin’s hands clasped on yours to hold you back. 

“Stop it. Let’s just go home.”

Hanging his head low, both of you walk to the parking lot in deafening silence. Seokjin’s face is now cloudy and dark, nose and eyes are turned red and you know he is this close to crying. You chest stings at how much in pain he seems. You have so many questions, yet you know he needs more time to figure out his own.

Trying to reach the car keys from his pocket, he can’t seem to find it and somehow ends up choking his own tears. Feeling terrible on how he must feel, you go to his side, helping him check his other pocket. “I’ll drive.” You softly say to him after, and he silently goes to the passenger side.

Night comes, and you stare at your bedroom door. Seokjin has been holed up inside the room after you both went home, and did not come out even for a drink. You knew he needed space, and you stayed in the living room to watch your series, but it’s been too long that you are on alert since this has never quite happened before.

You wake up from your seat, walking to the kitchen as you are about to prepare dinner. Mushing up your doubtful cooking skill, you cook a chicken pasta and union ring, even called his favorite donuts on delivery.

After all the food is ready, you knock on the door. “Seokjin, dinner is ready. Come out, will you?”

“I am not really hungry.” He answers softly, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t kid me, we both know you are never not hungry.” Your joke is met with no response. “Are you really going to be like this? Come out and let’s have dinner. I already cooked for us.”

A moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

You scowl, albeit kind of relieved that his sarcasm is still in place. “It’s not, but I’m still going to shove it down your throat until you’re begging me to stop.”

Seokjin ends up coming out, and you immediately frown at him. His face is disheveled, eyes bloodshot red, trail of tears on both his cheek and his hair is all over the place. 

“Hey, you look ugly.”

He scoffs. “Thank you for the encouragement.”

“I am serious! You look uglier than that time we went to Bali and you shit yourself because of eating too much spices.” You giggle, and Seokjin hisses. Your way of consoling people is indeed very debatable. 

“I remembered Bali. Such a great time.” Regardless, Seokjin smiles fondly at the memory. It was for your honeymoon slash not really a honeymoon, since all you did was to spend your work’s wedding free leave. You and Seokjin registered for Bali’s backpacker packet where both of you were able to explore the true nature and culture of Bali, instead of staying in a five star hotel and fucking till dawn like most honeymoon. It was breathtaking, to say the least.

After settling on the dining table, you scoop a portion and hand it to him. “Eat. I also ordered your favorite donuts, it will be here in a few minutes.”

Seokjin gives you a thankful smile, acknowledging your effort to make him feel better. 

After a whole half an hour of eating in silence, you open a conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks to you, and lower his sight back to his plate. “This is good.”

You sigh, folding your hands on the table. Seokjin might feel uncomfortable and you understand he needs time, but you also know that he needs to share it with someone else, or the feeling will drown him instead. “You know, there is no good keeping it inside.” You breath out. “I want to know what happened with you.”

A few minutes of silence. “How do you know Jimin?” He asks instead.

“He was my childhood friend in Busan, before his father hit it big and they moved to Seoul. We used to play together. He was a classmate, and my only friend at that time.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrow. “Only that? Why does it seem like it’s not just friends? Like he really is glad to see you.” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it was.. kind of weird. You know how kids were. We were really close, and I kind of confessed… that I liked him before he went away.”

A particular hit on the plate causes you to flinch, a deep frown on Seokjin’s supple lips. “But it was in the past, right?” He confirms with no hint of playing, and you feel something settle strangely in your chest. 

Is it possible that he is jealous?

You chase the thoughts away and curtly reply. “Of course. I was 10 for god’s sake, I didn’t even really like him.” 

“I don’t even know why you like the guy. Was Busan really lacking in handsome boys?” Seokjin grumbles, munching soundly on the onion ring. “You should have seen me when I was a kid, I bet you’ll like me instead. I've been handsome since I was even a baby.”

“I’ve seen your schoolbook photo, but I’ll just go with whatever you say.” You giggle on his nonsense—even though he’s clearly not lying. He’s probably the most handsome person you’ve laid your eyes upon, that it was quite surprising he didn’t decide to fuckboy himself and settle down with you instead. 

Ten minutes pass in silence before you continue. “Can I say my last wish?” You ask carefully. Seokjin nods, a bit uncertain.

“Tell me what happened? With Jimin. And his fiancé too.” You hum, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just wanted to know, but it is okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Seokjin sighs, rests his utensils and drinks the water before continuing. “It’s just.. hard. His wife, Dakyung was actually my girlfriend for a long time. We’ve been together since high school. At that time, she wasn’t really well off—his parents are struggling financially, but I was more than glad to support her getting the money to support her family.”

“We were together for like eleven years, I guess? I loved her very much, we’ve been through nearly everything and stood strong. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I only wanted her. Being with anyone else never crossed my mind.” He softly explains, yet you don’t know why you feel yourself constricting with every word. It’s hurting you to see how pained he was, the beautifully carved words meant for someone else. “So around four years ago, I think? I bought an engagement ring for her. I was going to propose—but I guess you know the rest.”

“Did she.. cheat on you?” You ask carefully. Seokjin stares at you and nods, sadness written all over his face.

“I just found out when I was going to surprise her in her apartment. She… was in bed with.. Jimin.”

“What?!” You shouts in disbelief. “Jimin, your college friend fucked your girlfriend of eleven years?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what happened too, but at that time what I remembered was Jimin pleading for her to break up with me, and she said yes, asking for him to wait for the right time. But who am I kidding? It was a good choice at her part. Jimin is crazy rich, handsome and good too. Anything a girl wants, right?”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” You mutter, resting your palm over his as a consolation. “Money is not everything, and she’s trading that for eleven years of happiness with you. It’s her loss.”

“Maybe it’s not, Y/N. At that time, I realized that maybe it was indeed my fault. I, like a fucking fool, still wanted to be better for her. Even after I knew she was cheating on me, I tried holding on to her, so the next day I asked her to meet me and still proposed. I would do anything to make her happy. And as expected, she rejected me.”

“Seokjin…” You whisper, a tear welling on the corner of your eyes on how broken he must have felt.

“She immediately eloped with Jimin, and both moved to Sydney for school. But I guess in a way, I’ve never moved on. I was always trying to contact her, sending her emails or messages until she had enough and blocked me. I was depressed. The one that I loved for eleven years, left me just like that.”

Seokjin stares at you, meaningfully. And you’re about to hear something that breaks your whole being. 

“And then, I just knew I’d never love again.”

*

You don’t know what happened with you—and Seokjin, but in a way you’ve been distancing yourself from him, and the gesture is mutual. Seokjin never came home early, and not that you ask him anymore. He always came home whenever you were already asleep, and when you wake up, he’d be gone. Even with the current withdrawal, you still find breakfast on the table, courtesy of him. Yet you’d rather he not.

I just knew I’d never love again.

It hurts. It hurts like hell when he really said that he’ll never love again. In a way, you know you’ve been feeling something for your husband—that you crave for his attention and care, and to know that he might never reciprocate the way you want him to. Hurts like a bitch.

But it’s all on you. It is clear as crystal that love is not even the foundation of your marriage, so if anything happens to your foolish heart, it’s all on you. You shouldn’t have taken this lightly. You should’ve known that you are weak at heart, and you’ll fall for him anyway. 

Because he is the greatest guy you have ever met.

The compassion, kindness and caring that he has, it’s beyond comprehension. You don’t know how someone can be so understanding like he is, the way he takes care of you and wants nothing in return, that sincerely wants the best for you—even without love—succeeds in making you fall head over heels for him. 

God, you really are a fool.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look to your left, seeing Hoseok scrutinizing at you in worry, now Jane is already beside him. “You’ve been whimpering since morning, and now you’re crying. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing, I am sorry for disturbing you all.” You swipe your tear stained cheeks, standing from your seat. “I’m getting some air, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

Half-running, you enter the elevator and swiftly exit the building, trying to breathe as clear as you could—no matter how it might hurt you. God, you hate being vulnerable. You hate being weak. You hate being in love—an unrequited one, at that. Why can’t you just put your heart together? Why do you have to like him now, after two years of not caring whether he even fucked someone else behind your back? 

A whisper in your mind tells you that probably, these two years have been too great with him. Maybe, because he never gave you space for doubt. Maybe, you are already dependent on him without you knowing. Maybe, you take your feelings for granted.

“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Someone stares at you in shock, and turns out it is Jungkook. His arm is around your shoulder. “I just finished a meeting and wanted to get  coffee and found you here instead. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Is it weird that I felt sad because I finally—finally have feelings for my husband? Like… this supposed to happen before marriage, right?”

“Oh, Y/N..” Jungkook sighs. “What happened?”

And like that, you fill him in on what happened between you and Seokjin, and it leaves him furrowing his eyebrows. “So.. you telling me that you think Seokjin still couldn’t forget his ex?”

You process his sentence for a while, and reply with a hesitant nod. Jungkook exhales loudly. “That’s not it, Y/N. I don’t think he’s still in love with his ex, he is... just scared. He is scared of the pain of his past, and he is scared of opening up to someone. Just like you. And with the way you are acting right now, it’s not fixing anything you both are feeling right now.”

“But he said he’ll never love again..”

“I couldn’t believe you even believe that bullshit.” Jungkook frowns. “That girl betrayed him. She gave him literally a thousand reasons to move on. He just needs time to adjust, and a couple of facts slapped to his face. He’ll come around.”

“Do… do you think I should.. talk to him about this?” 

“No. You can just shut up and hope he can read your mind.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, heavily sarcastic. “Talk to him, Y/N. You trust him, right?”

“I do.” You whisper to yourself, strangely motivated. “I do trust him.”

*

Well, it turns out trust is not a really firm base for confronting your own husband to the mess you made. After you called Seokjin to pick you up after work to get dinner together, he was visibly surprised at your request since you’re usually not the type to begin conversation after a fight—you never even asked to be picked up before. You yourself don’t even know whether it would be a good idea, but Seokjin’s easy agreement does make it better.

When you enter the car, he is the first to greet with a warm smile, and it reminds you that you haven’t seen it for so long now—you might even miss it. “Hey.” 

“Hi, Seokjin.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for picking me up. I’m just.. feeling a bit out of it to take the train. I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I told you a million times I’ll pick you up if you can, you’re the one who rejected me.” He giggles lightly, glancing at you. “Thank you too.”

“For what?”

“For reaching out? I know past week we’ve been.. kinda avoiding each other. I didn’t know how to.. start since I was the problem in the first place.” He scratches his nape in shame. “I am very sorry, by the way. It was very immature of me.”

“No, it’s not. I totally understand.” You respond quickly. “And I didn’t know what happened, I have no rights to judge. It was your pain, and I am just glad you want to share it with me.”

Unexpectedly, Seokjin chuckles. “Why are you so sweet today.” 

“Let me know if you want my sass back, I’ll gladly serve it to you.” You retaliate, even your inside are churning with nerves.

“You know I accepted you for who you are—you can be anything you want.” Seokjin brushes the top of your head with a toothy grin that leaves you a breathy mess. 

“You are so cheesy today.” You respond briskly, noticing that you have arrived at the designated restaurant. Seokjin parks the car swiftly, and when there’s only silence inside, he turns on the lights on top of him.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Look at the backseat.”

You glance at the backseat, finding an oak brown bag that somehow feels familiar. You quickly pick it up and open it. Turns out it is the exact beautiful brown bag that has catched your eyes from your previous window shopping session—before Jimin comes into the picture. You squeal in delight. “What is this?! Are you seriously giving this to me?”

“No, I’m giving it to Grandma Lee, our neighbor. Who else?” He smirks and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before adoring your bag once more.

“This is very pretty, though. How could you know which one I liked?”

“Well, let’s just say I know you better than you think? I practically know what you liked. This one greatly matches your outfits too. You know I have a great fashion sense.” He winks.

“I’ll let your last sentence pass because I’m very touched right now. Thank you, Seokjin.” You beam in joy, adoring the bag.

Seokjin nods, and when you rest the bag carefully on the backseat, he suddenly pulls you close for a hug—his arms around your waist, your chin settles on his shoulder. His spontaneity literally leaves you breathless, the heat is blooming around your cheek at the close proximity. God, you wish he couldn’t hear your drumming heartbeat.

“Thank you for being such a great friend and partner. I’m so thankful we are married, you know?”

You grimace in pain. God, the sound of your heart breaking is really audible in your ear. Oh, how you wish he had known.

*

And in the end, you are the loser in this game you played with yourself, because you most absolutely didn’t say a thing, yet you’re enjoying every second of being in love by yourself, making up scenarios and wondering if he feels the way you do.

It is ridiculous how greatly it has been played—considering how caring he usually is, yet it’s not even rare for him to say that you’re different in a way. He never explained in detail, but even you know what’s different. You started calling him frequently between work, asking when he’ll be home, his opinion on little things, or if he wanted to eat anything. It’s the small things that you’re hoping he’ll catch, yet it seems like something trivial for him and it lowkey upsets you.

One evening, you’re already waiting for him in the apartment, determined to finally tell him about what you feel—that you love him and hope he feels the same way. Jungkook was right—you can’t lounge around waiting for him. There’s no shame in starting first, especially when knowing it’s him you’re falling in love with.

Yet the clock strikes nine, he has not arrived yet. The food you prepared since six has already turned cold, and you start to feel wary, glancing nervously at the door—since he said he’ll be home around eight and is already late by an hour. You already tried calling him, but it is met with no response. His phone is on and well, yet he’s not replying. So you wait while watching the news.

Car crash. A man. Blue toyota. On the road of his way back home. You immediately reach for your phone, calling his number in panic.

Could it be?

*

It’s already midnight when Seokjin opens his apartment door, expecting darkness—but instead he finds you sleeping on the couch, phone clutched on your chest. He closes in, a thin smile formed on his lips as his fingers soothes the creases of your crouching eyebrows, but it somehow sends you flinching on your spot. You are now wide awake.

“Seokjin, when are you home?” You demand, as his pupils dilate of confusion. 

“I just arrived. Sorry, I was—”

“I thought you died, you moron!” You shouts immediately. “Car crash news was on, man driving a blue toyota. I was so scared it was you that I even called the police, yet they said the victim is still in the hospital, I couldn’t know the identity. I was so scared...” You don’t even know why you’re tearing up right now—but the emotion is overwhelming, you must be talking nonsense.

Seokjin blinks, confused. “I’m sorry, I left my phone on mute. I forgot to let you know...”

You don’t even want to hear the rest, as you quickly storm off to your bed and force yourself to sleep, muffling your cries. The feeling you had for the last few hours, the horror of thinking Seokjin might be laid in blood on the street is something you’d rather not experience now or ever. 

In a few minutes, you feel the bed dips beside you. Seokjin is there. 

“Are you still awake?” He softly asks, but you decide to ignore him and closes your eyes.

“I am very sorry. I didn’t know… this would happen. But I should’ve let you know.”

You clearly know what he refers to. You usually don’t give a shit if he’d even come in dawn, but now you’re crying and throwing a fit when it’s not even something to fuss about. It’s only you and your overreacting fear.

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?” He whispers as he tucked the blanket closer to you, stroking the top of your head carefully. 

*

The next morning, you wake up to the delicious smell of baked cheese. Unable to hold your scoff, you decided to stay a little bit on bed just to pisses him off. Frankly, you are still slightly vengeful for last night, with this urge to let him know your annoyance has not worn off.

So when he walks in and softly taps your shoulder, you are silent. “Hey. It’s already seven, you need to take a shower and come eat breakfast, hmm?” He persuades, but you turn your back to him, and Seokjin huffs at your petty acts, yet the guilt is still seeping in his chest. 

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you know work is unexpectedly late. I don’t want to make excuses, as I know it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.”

At the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly washes off, but still you’re doubtful on how to answer his apology. Should you just say yes? Or should you pretend anger?

“Hey, look at me.” Seokjin impatiently pulls you to face him, both his palms are on the sides of you. His eyes bore into yours, and you instantly turn stiff with his face so close. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m very, very sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll do my best in letting you know if something came up at work and not make you worry anymore.”

“I like you.”

You wonder whose word that is, but it turns out to be you. It’s literally you who said those three words that you have been practicing since last night. You didn’t even know why it’s coming out right now, it’s just the way he looks at you right now—it’s the first thing you want him to know. 

“What?” He looks mildly bewildered.

“I like you, Seokjin. I… I don’t know when or how, but I really, really like you.” You confess. You finally confess, yet the way Seokjin looks immediately puts you in horror. That’s absolutely not the look you expected from him.

He laughs with sheer awkwardness. “Of course, we are married. You know I like you too, Y/N.” Yet you know he meant differently.

You know everything will go south the moment you try to say what you truly meant, yet you don’t want to lie anymore. You are tired of hiding what you’re feeling. “I am serious. I like you, in that way. I might even love you. The past two years, we’ve been with each other and I seriously couldn’t be happier with what we both had. I know this is not what we both planned—”

“It’s most absolutely not.” He cuts, distancing himself from you, face filled with panic.

“—but I want you to know. I want to try this, Seokjin. I know you might need some time, and what I feel might be one-sided, but I want you to know and try this. With me.”

A moment of silence to tense that you can slice it to choke yourself—when it’s only you and him who is avoiding your gaze. He then scoots off the bed, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

 “I… I’m gonna go. You should finish your breakfast.”

And then he left.

The misery doesn’t end there. You never felt someone could be so physically close yet so far away like what he’s putting between the two of you right now. For a straight week he literally never came home earlier than nine, and when he did, he’d sleep on the couch. And fuck did it hurt to sleep knowing he is out of your reach. You never know love could hurt like this—maybe you trusted him too much with your heart.

Saturday, you left a note that you’ll be off to your parents house for the weekend, and even then Seokjin didn’t contact you. And coming back home, your parents fortunately didn’t fuss as much, maybe since you just said you needed time away from him. 

The night comes, you are lounging in your room when your phone rings. At once you quickly jump to retrieve it, frown when seeing its a social media notification instead.

From : @pjmin

Hi, Y/N, this is Jimin! Hope you are doing well :) [21:29]

I know this is a bit hurried, but if possible, are you up to meet for coffee tomorrow? [21:29]

It’s okay if you can’t, just want to talk and catch up while I’m in town [21:30]

Let me know! [21:31]

Albeit doubtful, you are indeed curious about what he wants to talk about, knowing it must have something to do with Seokjin. Unable to hold your curiosity, you agree to a time and place with him.

Tomorrow, you walk into the agreed coffee shop, finding Jimin already seated, sipping on his beverages. You carefully pay attention to him, and notice he indeed has changed so much from that average kid you met when you were kids. Well, not that you have any rights to comment though.

“Hi.” He greets with a smile after you are seated in front of him. “I ordered you something. Hope you’re okay with caramel frappucino. You still like sweets?”

“Ah, I’m fine with anything. Thanks. And yes, I still like them. Kinda surprised you still remember, though.” You joke. Jimin lips curls.

“Well, the memory of a kid eating four cotton candy in one sitting until she passed out from high blood sugar is not really something one could forget.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. Well, your childhood is indeed not a pretty one. “It was rather traumatizing, I could say.”

After a moment of catching up on how he’s currently doing right now, you mindlessly ask him. “So, where is your fiancé? I thought she’ll be with us here.”

Jimin instantly dims at the mention. “Uh… We broke up.”

You stop your movement and gape at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say once a cheater is always a cheater?” Jimin stares down at his drinks. “Not in that way, though. In the beginning, my family never really liked her, that’s why I’ve been holding off from marriage—no matter how much she pleaded to. We actually came back to get married, and get blessings. And just yesterday, my father sent me a whole report of her financial statement, slush funds, and everything. Well, there’s just too much thing she’s hiding behind my back.”

“Jimin…” You mutter, feeling bad for the guy. But still, you are unable to scoff at how blinded he has been. The girl is no doubt is using him for his money—and he just realized it now? 

“I know what you’re thinking. I must be a damn fool to just realize it now.” He humorlessly laughs, correctly reading your mind. “But maybe I was hoping she’ll one day change. I must be a total dumbass.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.” You had enough of holding back, and it surprises Jimin with your forwardness. You grin regardless. “But that’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, right? We just gotta live with it.”

“Yeah.” He agrees with a saddened smile. “I know it doesn’t quite make sense telling this to Seokjin’s wife, but… I don’t know. I want you to know that I regretted it. I really shouldn’t have done that—cheating behind his back. Maybe this is karma, anyway. I deserved this.”

You sigh. “You know that you shouldn’t be saying that to me, right? You should tell it straight to Seokjin.”

Jimin sighs, like it has been bugging his mind for a long time now. “But of course he wouldn’t want to see me. And I have a flight tonight, back to Sydney, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, maybe an apology had to wait, then.” You shrug, and Jimin frowns. “You were his friend, Jimin. And I know if I were him, I’d want it coming from you.”

“I guess so. You were right.” He exhales loudly. “Thank you for that too. And agreeing to meet me. I’m really glad we talked. And don’t forget to stay in contact, okay?”

You hum with a wide smile. “Thank you too, Jimin.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought this for your wedding present.” Jimin crouches, retrieving a gift box as he displays a sincere beam. “I don’t know if Seokjin would like that I’m giving you this, but, yeah. I am very glad that you’re together. You guys seriously could be the best couple I know.”

You fiddly laugh when reminded of the current turmoil of your marriage. Well, he's better off not knowing, though. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you for this.”

Well, you do hope that whatever Jimin’s gift is, Seokjin is still there to use them.

*

Sunday, you spend lounging on your bed, staring at the gift from Jimin, opened and stacked on your desk. You are still unable to comprehend his thoughtfulness. He gave you a couple bathrobe, a bottle of expensive Bordeaux Wine with two antique wine glasses. You messaged him thank you, and Jimin only sent a wink emoticon as an answer.

And then you are reminded of Seokjin’s scar. What happened with his ex, it was because he was too kind. He was too trustful, and it hurt to let go of someone you’ve been with for nearly half of your life and betrayed you like that. He is really the kindest soul out there—and then you realize that you missed him dearly. You wonder what he might be doing right now. Is he just as distraught as you are? Is he thinking about you as well?

In the middle of your wandering thoughts, your phone abruptly chimes. Finding an unknown number in the other line, you answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N. This is Yoongi, Seokjin’s friend.”

It’s been a long time since you heard from him and you rise to sit, mildly perturbed. “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Apologize if I’m too forward, I know there’s a bit of problem at bay, but I know Seokjin’s dying to talk to you, and has been stressing about it since god-knows-when. He’s in my apartment now, can you… get him? Lounging in my apartment drinking is not going to solve anything.” He huffs lightly, and you sigh in distress.

“I know. But I am now in my parents house. Do you think.. I should just come?”

An evil laugh is heard on the other end. “No, that’s unnecessary. I know what’s even better that will help with this whole thing.”

Closing his call in daze, you are still waiting for the plan—but not even an hour in, a rushed knock is already heard from your front door. In a blink, Seokjin is on your bedroom door, carefully opening it. 

“Y/N?” He softly calls your name. “Are you… okay?”

Well, the scared look on his face does make you kind of guilty. Yoongi must have told him lies that you’re sick, and then he didn’t even spend another second and went straight to you. You have no idea what to feel, decide to hide yourself under your blanket.

“Hey, look at me.” He rushes, tapping the side of your arm carefully, but you are still unbudging. Impatiently, he effortlessly tugs the blanket off of you, until you are looking at him with a frown in your face. He rests his palm on your forehead, to your neck, baffled. “Are you sick? Yoongi told me you have high fever.”

“Well, I think Yoongi lied because he wanted to chase you out of his apartment.” You scowl, turning your face with a hint of blush on your face. You never know seeing him again could be this difficult. “I heard you’ve been a parasite to him.” You tease, slightly smiling.

“Yoongi, that disrespectful shithead.” Seokjin hisses under his breath, but it’s obvious that he is avoiding your eyes. He straightens and clears his throat. “Okay then. I think… I should go  home. Are you going to stay here?”

“Seokjin…” You call, holding on his wrist from leaving. “Are you angry at me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I am not angry at you.”

“But you are avoiding me. And we don’t even talk anymore. This is not how we used to handle problems. What’s wrong?” You persist, determined to end this cold war with him. 

Seokjin sighs. “I am just… scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I am scared of disappointing you.” He is visibly downcasted. “I know what you meant, Y/N. But I also know that I can’t be… what you want me to be. I can’t seem to forget... her. I don’t want to hurt you, or myself. And I know It’s difficult, and I don’t want to put you into that pain. It’s better this way.”

“I never pressured you into anything.” You reply, your voice started shaking. “I just want you to know, and try this with me. And you know holding onto something that has hurt you is not going to work, Seokjin. Please, please stop hurting yourself and try this. With me.”

“I-I can’t.” He hurriedly mutters, intending to walk out before you hold him back, crushing yourself into his arms, your tears burst into loud sobs.

For a good ten minutes, you spend it crying on his arms, tears wetting his white shirt. You don’t know what you feel—you’re dejected, sad, disappointed, angry, too many emotions that overwhelms your whole being but can only come in tears when he’s around. “Seokjin, I like you. Why can’t you give us a chance? Are you… that disgusted with me?”

At the self depreciating cries, he quickly looks down, both palms are on either side of your face. “Don’t be like that. I adore you so much, Y/N. Don’t hurt yourself because of me.”

“There’s no way I can’t be sad if you’re still hurting yourself. I just want you to be happy—with me. Is that so hard?” You weep, hiding yourself back to his chest. “I hate this. You know how much I hate crying.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cried that much.” He scolds, stroking your scalp like he usually does—and you slightly feel comforted at his familiar gesture.

After another ten minutes just hugging it out, he finally leans into you resting his head on top of yours, taking a deep breath of nerves.

“Okay. Let’s try then. But please be patient with me, hmm? I’ll try my hardest for us.”

*

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He shuffles in his sleep, but is unmoving. You frown, and call him one more time yet still met with no response. Huffing, you scoot closer to him, and clasp his nose to hamper him from breathing. At your disturbance he groans, finally opening his eyes. “Why are you waking me up now… This is still dawn.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have started getting back into gaming now. This is already half past seven, mister. Take a shower before you’re late.” You remind him, and as expected he already has two feet on the ground, running to the shower.

And as a kind and dutiful wife, you help him by preparing his outfits. You chose a nice blue themed suit this time, paired with a nice tie you bought him a few months back. Walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, you are unable to hold your eyes from straying low. Damn, he really be packing like that, huh?

“What are you looking at, huh?” Seokjin squints his eyes at you, taking the prepared clothes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a whole snack, but I’m not a sexual object.” He jokes while wiggling eyebrows, and you scoff loudly when you can’t find a sassy reply for him.

You decide to wait in the living room, trying to calm your heartbeat. God, you’re such a loser, now even his bare chest can stupefy you like that. 

Regardless, you're more than content with the current relation with you and Seokjin. Both you definitely have gotten better, a bit more identical to wife and husband—even if it's probably only for you. You are trying your hardest for him, and when you know he can’t instantly fall at your feet and love you the way you do, you are satisfied. At least he’s not pushing you away.

“I’m a bit late for breakfast, but thank you for this.” He whispers, pointing to the pack of food you prepared for him. Noticing what’s missing, you pick the tie from his grasp, and circle around his neck and putting it on for him. He visibly stiffen on your arms.

After finished, you brush his suit’s shoulder and take a step back with a smile. “Let me know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and softly smiles. “See you.”

And then, he leaves a tender peck on your left cheek and exits the room. 

You literally can’t stop smiling the whole day.

*

One thing that you never really told anyone, is that you never had true sex. Like you had it once or twice in high school, but those annoying jerks never let you even finish and all you were left was disappointment. During college, you were too ambitious for your studies, so the thought of sleeping around was not on your agenda, and you never really believed in love or relationships. So when the thought of sex enters your mind this morning, it was quite frightening.

Having your lunch with only Jungkook, you decided to tell him your concern. He is quite shocked to say the least. “What the—you want to have sex with him? Finally?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You exhale, pushing away your food in disinterest. “This few days we are making progress. So I don’t know—isn’t sex always the solution? I thought it would do some good for us.”

“Well, it’s indeed a solution for most problems, I would say.” He giggles between words, and you roll your eyes in disgust. “But I don’t know about Seokjin. I must say—the man really has outstanding self control. Sleeping on one bed with a woman for two straight years and still hasn’t initiated sex? Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been sleeping around before.”

The thought immediately darkens your whole mood, and Jungkook realizes his slips. “—or, he’s just a good masturbator? Nobody knows, Y/N, especially not me. Ha ha ha.” He nervously chuckles, sipping his drinks. “And the minority of men are not that much of an sex-fueled animal. He must be good at keeping his hands to himself, and please don’t mind what I said.”

What Jungkook said might be haunting you a bit that you request to get home early—when instead you’re going to the mall for shopping. You went straight to the ladies side where all kinds of bras or lingerie is available, but you literally have no clue what’s useful for your case. Already desperate, you finally call Jane for advice, discarding the huge probability of damage that you’ll be teased or ridiculed. 

“Oh my god! That’s very fun. I still can’t believe you lied to the boss because you’re preparing to bone your husband tonight.” Jane cackles, truly amused. “God, I miss those alone times with my husband. Don’t have kids too soon, Y/N. Be happy with your husband.”

“Stop rambling and help me pick!” You hiss, realizing a few stares has caught on you. She giggles, and then proceeds to help you pack home a black lacy three piece lingerie that will instantly shock your mother if she ever sees—which she said would ‘even spice up a fifty years old marriage’. 

You don’t even know how that’s possible, or why you even asked her for advice in the first place.

Waiting for your train home, you hold your shopping bag close to your chest, slightly  embarrassed. You don’t know what you should do then—should you just wear it and surprise him in the living room when he comes home? Or lay in your bed while trying to tease him? How does that actually work?

In front of your apartment, suddenly a call arrives. Seokjin. “Hey, Y/N. Work is a bit much today, I think I’ll be late. Will be home around nine, maybe. But can you wait for me? I forgot to bring my keys.”

Agreeing mindlessly, you sigh after ending the call, looking to the bag on your grasp. You really had a bad feeling about this.

*

It’s quarter to nine, Seokjin is already on the way home and you are already all cleaned up. You started with a good, long warm shower and shaves, curled your hair, and put up a light makeup. You even tried watching porn for learning purposes—but instantly grossed out after a few failed attempts at finding a good one. Well, maybe you should just kiss him and not say or do a thing you’ll regret.

Jungkook was right, though. There’s no way Seokjin can handle two long years without sleeping around. Yet even the thoughts of him sleeping with other girls leaves you qualmish. In the middle of your busy thoughts, the bell suddenly rings at the door. 

“Y/N? Are you there? Can you please open this?”

Walking with your heels on, your head is in haze at the thoughts of him seeing you like this. God, you start having second thoughts. Should you just run inside and change your clothes? But the remembrance of the price of this lingerie instantly blanches you. You’d rather be shamed in front of your husband than wasting his much money for nothing. 

“Good ev—what is this?”

Seokjin looks at you, visibly flabbergasted at your unexpected fit. Not even once that he would think you would wear something like this, especially for him—and now your face is already beet red. You are far too shy to do or initiate anything.

“Are you okay? What are you—”

Before he can say other things that will embarrass you even more, you quickly crash your lips to his, kissing it frantically while trying to make it as pleasurable as possible. Seokjin instantly gasps, his bag falling to the floor beside him. His hands rest on your back while you are focusing to make it as good as it can get for him. 

You bite his lips for entrance, and as he moans you slips your tongue inside, tasting the sweet beverages he just drank. At one point, he finally responds—kissing you back with tenderness instead that helps manage a pace that won’t leave you breathless.

Few more minutes of tasting his lips against yours, Seokjin finally lets you go, and unexpectedly laughs. Realizing how foolish you must have been for him, you quickly flee inside the room and jump under your blanket. You hiss and close your eyes, cheeks flushed at the remembrance of the kiss and his amused face staring at you—God, can you be more humiliating?

After taking a shower, Seokjin jumps on the bed and you instantly scoot yourself further away, with your back facing him. The silent giggle is still heard and frustrated, you sent him a glare. “Why are you laughing?! There’s nothing funny.”

“I’m laughing not because it's funny, but because you’re extremely cute.” He hums, probably noticing how the blush crept back on your cheek. You scowl in annoyance. “You’re so aggressive today, but how can you’re still so cute? What happened, hmm?”

“No, I just…Ugh, I’m trying here, okay? I know these past two years might have been frustrating to you, I won’t even be surprised if you’ve been sleeping around—”

“What? What are you saying? Who’s sleeping around?” Seokjin asks, puzzled. You bit your lips, looking down in shame.

“I don’t know, maybe because my friends told me they wouldn’t last without sex and I just… I thought you’re like that too. And we haven’t really talked about that, so...”

He laughs, pulling you close until you flush against his chest. He smells like oak and citrus and it entices you at once. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone for the past two years. My last time was probably with a stranger when I broke up, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s really—”

“I am serious. And why would I lie? I just… think it’s not right. To be truthful, I also don’t want you to sleep around with someone else when we’re married, I’m just trying to keep this as pleasant as it could be for us.”

Humming against his chest, you feel your heart warming at his considerate act. You really are marrying the right person—regardless of how unconventional it started. You can’t even imagine if it was someone else. Few minutes of silence just feeling his arms around yours until you speak and ruin the whole conversation. 

“So does it mean you’re a great masturbator?”

Seokjin laughs until his whole body vibrates. “Well, maybe you could say it like that.”

*

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Jane asks during your lunch with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon with a hint of teasing on her tone. “I am surprised you even came to the office today. I thought you’d call in sick.”

“What the hell—it’s not like that.” You hiss at her, hoping she’d get your subtle message to quit it. Jane groans.

“Come on, Y/N, we are all adults here. Tell us! At least tell me how many rounds. What was it like? Did you use any other tools—like ropes or vibrators?”

Hoseok and Namjoon literally choke on their drinks, while Jungkook smirks in amusement at your flushed cheeks. “Don’t say it. Damn, Jane, it’s not it! What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, I mean you literally called in sick to buy a lingerie—that I chose, for those taking notes—which literally will get him hot and erected in no time. How can I not be wondering?! What was it like? Tell me, I’m a lonely mother of two, Y/N. I just want to know, hmm?”

“Yes, tell us, Y/N! How’d it go with your lawfully wedded husband?” Jungkook joins in, giggling in mischief. You shot him an unamused look.

“Ah, I remember those days. Fucking till morning with my wife. Well, before the baby arrives.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, and you are visibly repulsed at his sentence. “I agree with Jane, Y/N. I love my child to death, but I’d rather wait for maybe another year or two.”

“It’s not like that!” You hide your face on your palm. “There literally nothing happened. I wore that lingerie, and surprised him when he came home, but we ended up doing nothing but kissing. He laughed, by the way. Thanks for that, Jane.” You glare at her, and she shrugs.

“Only that?” Hoseok asks, uncertain. “You’re already wearing lingerie and nothing happened?”

You vengefully nod. “That’s really all. Then he took a shower, we just talked until both fell asleep. Done.”

Namjoon contemplates, fingers on his chin. “That’s weird. Hmm. You don’t even bother jumping in the shower?”

“You are an idiot.” You sigh, massaging your temple—even if the idea struck you in a way. Should you have jumped into the shower with him? But you did your make up and all... “Even kissing him was already—”

Jungkook quickly cuts with roaring laughter. “Wow, I never know you’re that much of an idiot, Y/N! Ha ha ha I’m hungry, does anyone want to order food now?” As others are focused on skimming the menu, he sends you a look, and you just register that you were about to blabber the reality of your marriage. You grimace and mutter your thanks to him.

*

Two weeks have passed in a blink, and you are seriously pleased with the way things are. It feels like the boundary has been torn down between you two, and pretty clear that Seokjin’s been making an effort for your relationship as well. Usually, you always feel the things he does is based on mere obligation, but you know it’s no longer the case for him. You can feel how much he cares and adores you—receiving your bear hugs whenever he comes home, holding you close before coming to bed, kissing your forehead whenever it feels right. 

Just like today. You are feeling a bit feverish, and when you reply to his message asking how’re you doing, he immediately calls.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks after the first beep, tone laced with concern. “If you’re not feeling good, you should go home. Do you want me to call a taxi? Or can you wait for an hour, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. This is not really rare. I’ll be fine soon.” You giggle, even inside of you tickles on the wondrous feeling of him caring for your well being. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay. I’ll get you.” He reminds and you hum in agreement. “Stay put until then, okay?”

I love you. “See you.”

I love you too. “Bye.”

And while driving home with Seokjin, you don’t know why but you feel physically much better than before. It just feels so right with him beside you. Especially when you initiate to hold his hand, he lets go for a second and repositions himself so he could hold your hand better—you seriously think you could fall sick on how jumpy you’ve become because of him. 

“Are you sure you’re sick? Or you just need some attention, hmm?” He teases, lightly pinches your cheek. You huff in embarrassment. 

“You’re annoying.” You are about to pull back your hand to your lap when he holds it tighter. 

“Who says I wanna let go.” Seokjin’s lips curl into a hearty smile. You still maintain your fake scowl. “You’re just so cute, that’s what.”

“Why are you so cheesy nowadays.” You burst in laughter, unable to hold it back. Seokjin beams, and reliably parks the car in your apartment’s basement with one hand. Finally silence, it's only you and him with the soft engine sound when he pulls you to his arms.

“Thank you for loving me. I seriously don’t know what you see in me, but I seriously can’t believe that you really like me and want to go through this.” He exhales softly, his left arms holding you by the waist, his right stroking your hair. “I hope that you know that I’m trying my best here. But I don’t know why, it doesn’t even feel like trying. Everything is so easy with you.”

“That’s really cheesy.” You chuckles, but tighten your arms around him regardless. “I’m also very thankful that you’re giving us a chance. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. I keep on making a mess, falling in love when I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, don’t say that. I am really happy we’ve been through this, or I might always chicken out. Even if it could be better if I wasn’t such a jackass, but I’m still grateful.” He coos, pecking your forehead.

Releasing his hug, you are about to mutter something when he cuts with his lips lurching unto yours, cutting whatever sound beside loud moans. You are taken aback, falling a step back before steadying yourself by finding purchase on his shoulder. His palms are on either side of your face, pacing himself. 

You spend no time responding, savoring the tender taste of his lips. He tasted just the way you remember, sweet and addicting that leaves you wondering why you haven’t been doing this since the beginning. Catching a breath, he laps at your lips for opening, and as you comply, he roughly pulls you closer by the nape, tangling his tongue like he is a man starved all this time. 

“Did you eat a donut?” You giggle when he lets your lips go, trailing pepper kisses on your neck instead. When his lips ghosts to the succulent curve of your v-neck top, you abruptly pull him up to see you in the eye. 

“Baby, don’t. Not here. We’re just steps away from the apartment and we’re not getting reprimanded of public indecency.” You remind him. Seokjin scoffs, letting out a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t wear this top. This is not good for my health.” He frowns as you laugh. “And what are you thinking, I’m not going to have our first time in this car. It was just an intro, so you better be prepared.”

“Ooh, consider me spooked, then.” You smirk in mischief. It is somehow proven by the way Seokjin cannot take his hands off of your waist, ghosting right above the bump of your ass while ascending to your apartment. At all the action you feel the discomfort between your thigh—high chance you are already dripping wet. You have been feeling exceptionally horny this few days, anyway. 

“And don’t think I didn’t know the way you’re invading my space and grinding your ass last night when we went to sleep.” He suddenly mentions the event that leaves you all blushing—especially with the other residents on the elevator. You elbow him right away, finger crossed they won’t hear a word he’s saying.

Arriving in your apartment, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate when he pulls you for a deep kiss, his fingers hovering on the hem of your top to detach it from you, flinging it to wherever. Your skin shivers when his fingers are in contact with your bare skin, and to your bra as he grabs the succulent flesh that leaves you a moaning mess. 

“Baby, wait. I need to go to the restroom.” You whisper between the kiss, when  the incessant throb quite overwhelming your good sense now. Seokjin huffs in pout but let go either way. There’s no way he will say no to whatever request you have for him.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart.”

Running to your toilet with a qualmish feeling on your stomach, you quickly discard your panties with a hypothesis—to have it confirmed by how it has been ruined… with your period blood. You hiss, the frustration building up in your head. You are just about to have sex with your husband after long days of pining, and you just had to have the period on the exact same day. There’s gotta be wrong with your luck.

Finally cleaning yourself, you walk out to find your husband is sitting on the couch, a visible hard-on from his trousers. At the sound of you walking out, he stands but to find your deep frown. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I hate this so much. I can’t believe we’re about to do this but I got to have my period.” You run to his side, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry for ruining this.”

At your visible dejection, Seokjin can’t bear but to giggle and it leaves you puzzled. How can he be laughing now? “Hey, it’s no matter to me. We can do something else about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And we can leave that one for raincheck, so don’t be upset.”

Seokjin spends no other second in ravishing your lips while detaching your bra, discarding it in the same manner. His large palms grab the mounds, giving it a little squeeze before pinching your sensitive buds, especially now that you’re in your period. “Ugh, god. You’re so beautiful.” He gruffly mutters before taking your left mounds into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that you have to tug on his fluffy hair on how the pleasure has engulfed you. 

“Seokjin...” You moan his name as he shifts to the other mounds, his other hand strays to your clothed core, giving it a feathery touch before he pushes his digits. You bit your lips, holding back a sound.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I want to hear all of you tonight.” He reminds. You nod, feeling your mind has clouded in haze and all you can feel is how great he is with his deed.

Noticing how he has been focusing on your pleasure and satisfaction, you push him back to the couch, your knees on the wooden floor before taking a ride for yourself by opening the fly of his trousers. Seokjin gasps at your cold hands on his erected cock before it springs free in all its glory. 

“God, you’re so big. I’m not sure if I can take you end when this fucking period is over.” You are shocked at the size of his girthy dick, the precum is already leaking and you can feel your saliva swimming in your mouth—desperate for a taste.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” He comforts, before his tone drops. “Now suck on my cock like you’re a bitch in heat.”

You give a kittish lap on the slit, tasting the saltiness that is unfamiliar to your tongue, but is easy to discard when encouraged by the moan he is letting out with such favor. Noticing that it might hurt him to be blown without proper preparation, you spit on his dick, before giving him a sensual pump. “Fuck, Y/N, where did you learn to do that—god!” He moans in rapture. 

Your mouth closes in, sucking on the tip before taking him in your mouth. You run your tongue along the vein of his beautiful cock, wrapping your lips tight around it, feeling how it throbs in your mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. But for the intention of teasing, you’re detaching your lips, going to the ridge of his cock’s length for a lick.

“Damn it, baby, why are you such a tease.” He groans, but is cut with your palm wrapping around his dick, the other slides up to his ball. You can feel a new wave of arousal coming out from your pussy. “Now let me fuck your throat.” He stoutly orders with hooded eyes, forcing your mouth back to take in his red tip and length until it hits the back of your throat—resulting in a gag. Seokjin gathers your hair, helping it out of your way before he raises his hips, feeling the wondrous feeling of your mouth clamming on his dick.

“Don’t flex your throat, sweetheart. Relax, okay? Tell me if you want to stop.” He stares at you, and you nod. You fucking love this, and you’d literally do anything to make him satisfied tonight. Your throat relaxes, and you savor his satisfied groans after feeling the back walls of your throat, with the tears streaking your cheek at his pace and feeling the burn. 

“O-oh g-god, F-fuck y-yes.” Seokjin pants, each syllable coming out as he thrust into your throat. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your pretty face while I fucked your mouth hard.” He angles you better until he is satisfied, the lewd image of his cock stuffed into your mouth instantly sends him jerking faster.

A throaty moan slips out of you, and the action successfully sends him to his edge, feeling the vibrations cause his cock to throb in your pretty mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so fucking great.” The compliments earns him another groan from you, and it ignites the leading to his awaited orgasm.

Few other thrusts in your throat, you finally feel Seokjin constricting inside of you. He’s about to come, and you’re expecting him to release his load for you to swallow—you were prepared, overall—but unexpectedly he retracts from your mouth, instead jerking off in immaculate pace, and the loss of his dick leaves hollowness inside your throat. “I wanna cum on your tits, baby.” He gruffly whispers.

“Give it to me, daddy.” You persuade, as he pants, still working on his red cock—on the edge of his orgasm. Yet not even once he turns his gaze from you, all red and high with lust hooded in your eyes, the trace of tears on the side of cheek, the swole of your plump lips coated in his pre cum and spit. You look surreal. 

“Fuck-fuck! You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hisses, increasing the pace of his pumps before releasing his massive loads on your tits, painting it white. You look down to yourself, feeling his cum trickles down to your nipples and to your thigh. You swipe the liquid with your forefinger, before lapping it clean inside your mouth, internally revolting at the taste.

“Damn, this is crazy. How the fuck you are so good at that.” He sighs in delight, looking at you with lidded eyes and evident aftersex glow. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissue, cleaning his loads on your breast. Both of you involuntary laughs at the current event. 

“Come here.” He crouches down, scoops you into his hold before moving to the bedroom. You abruptly circle your arm around his neck, he closes in for your lips for another make out session on bed. While his tongue is lapping at your own, his fingers move to stimulate you with your hardened nipple until your breath is rigged. His right finger cups your clothed core, giving it a welcomed pressure and humping it until you’re left with moans and satisfied sighs, your finger clutches on his hair, tugging it lightly. 

Seokjin’s lips advanced to your ear,giving it a kittish lick. “And you better be prepared, I will eat you out and fuck you all night afer your period is done, sweetheart..”

*

It’s finally Friday, and you are at your desk for work after lunch. Suddenly, Jane closes in at you. “What are you looking at that seriously?” She inquires, noticing you’ve been staring at the calendar on your desk for longer than anyone should. You turn to her, and shake your head silently. 

“No, I just realized that it's soon December.”

“So?”

“It’s soon will be Seokjin’s birthday. He’s turning 34.”

Jane nods in understanding. “Will you get him anything?”

“I don’t know.” You tap your chin, thinking of what to get him. You’ve been scrolling through commerce websites, yet to find even an idea about what to give to him. And it hits you—maybe you don’t really know him after all. “What did you get your husband for his birthday?”

She chuckles. “Last birthday I gave him a responsibility of a lifetime—my pregnancy test came out positive. I wouldn’t say it was a very good birthday present though, as we didn’t really expect a pregnancy after all.”

It dims you right away. Pregnancy? It is too far fetched, right? You haven’t even discussed it with Seokjin—and you don’t want to directly throw him a responsibility for another life being when your romantic relationship has basically just started. Days after days of late nights humping and blowjobs, waiting for your period is over is not basically a very firm foundation for having kids. You don’t even know if you’re ready for it.

And today is the last day of your period. Seokjin has actually asked if you want a dinner together—and you said yes. Based on his promise, today should also be the day you will be making love till dawn. But this dampens your mood a bit, at the thought of having kids frightens you. 

Scrolling through instagram, you see that Tasha, your sister-in-law has posted a series of photos from the previous birthday lunch of your father-in-law. The first photo is the five of them smiling together, the second is their three children with the grandparents, and the next one is Seokjin, smiling while he’s caging Taehyun’s little frame inside his arms. You smile longingly at that. Nobody can deny it though—Seokjin is amazing with kids, you know how much he loves them. And there are countless times you pity him for marrying you—as children were never part of your plan before.

But now you love him. And so does he.

And the thoughts have been haunting you that even when you’re seated in front of him in a high class restaurant, Seokjin can sense something is bothering your mind. He holds you by the hand across the table, and how you instinctively flinch confirms his suspicion. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You smile nervously at him, shrugging. “I am fine, but yeah.. Something is just.. bugging my mind, that’s all.”

“What is it?” He asks softly, a bit worried. “Don’t you like this place? Are you cold? You’re not sick, right?”

“It’s not it.” You giggle at his cute attention. “I just... you know, I saw the date and realized that you’re having a birthday soon. I just don’t know what to get you. A bit upset that maybe it feels like I don’t know you that well, that’s all.”

His face lightens at that, the creases of his smile evident. “No, you don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy with what we have right now.” He gazes at you, pulling your hands to give it a light kiss. “I am just.. very thankful that you’re here.”

“But I want to give you something.” You frown, looking down. “It feels like you’re always taking care of me, and I’m always at the receiving end.”

“Why are—Y/N, you are the most selfless person I know. The way you take care of me just shows how much I owe you with anything I have. I want to make you happy, as you already made me the happiest I can be.” He explains in rush, like he’ll suffocate if you don’t realize how precious you are to him any time soon.

“Thank you.” You gratefully replies, holding back the tears from falling.

The next two hours, you’re already in bed with Seokjin on top of you, both your clothes are far long discarded on the floor. His palm is grabbing your succulent mounds, his right palm on the bed beside your face. His lips are lapping at yours, savoring the wine you consumed from the previous dinner.

“Seokjin, please put your dick inside me.” You moan before biting his lower lips. He smirks haughtily.

“Not so fast. I promised I’d eat you, didn’t I, kitten?” He questions, before moving his kisses to your neck, breast, stomach and to your thigh. You bite your own lips, your breath hitched when feeling the cold air he blows to your throbbing core. 

He laps at your cunt, his fingers sensually moving in circles for stimulation, and when his tongue is finally in contact with your clit, you feel the new wave of arousal is dripping out. Seokjin grins, instantly welcoming it with his tongue that leaves you a moaning mess. “Kitten, you’re dripping so much. Do you want to be fucked that badly?”

“Yes, yes, daddy. Don’t hesitate, please fuck me.” You breath out, finally pulling his face closer to your cunt. Seokjin slaps them harshly, eyes turning dark at your disobedience.

“Are you not going to be patient, kitten? Do you want daddy to stop fucking you?”

The thoughts literally scare your whole being that you deters from touching him. “Daddy, please. Fuck me, stuff me with your big cock.”

After that he continues on with his crazy good tongue, moving in and out of you until you screams his name in pleasure. Not only his tongue, his digits enter you in exchange, furthering them inside to scissors you until you are crying of ecstasy. As your orgasm builds up, he circles your clit in wondrous motions with simultaneous licking your cunt which helps you reach your edge. And not even another minute, you cum generously on his tongue.

Few minutes of reaching your breath, Seokjin laughs at your fucked out expression, your orgasm has caught up with you. You are literally glowing with sweat and satisfaction that it literally takes his breath with how blissful you feel, because of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I still need to ride you, need you to cum inside me.” You remind him right after finding his strangely contented expression staring down at you. “Just... let me take a breather, okay?”

“Are you sure you can ride me? It seems like you lost all your energy.” He giggles, plopping beside you on bed, pulling you close to his chest, that you are leaning on his arm. “I am marrying a fifty years old. How come you already lost your stamina after an orgasm?”

“It’s not it! I’m just a bit tired after work.” You scowl, rolling your eyes at his teases. “You are so annoying.”

He smirks, pecking you in the lips. “But you love me, right?”

“My fault, I know.” You huff. In Seokjin's hearty smile, and you suddenly are  reminded of the photo of him Tasha posted this afternoon. 

“Seokjin. Can I ask you something?” You ask, fidgeting your finger. Seokjin hums. “You know, I saw Tasha posted a photo of you and Taehyun this morning. And I was just thinking… if you want a child?”

“What?” He looks down at you, a bit of confusion written on his face that it scares you he’ll not take this like you want him to.

“No, it’s just—I just think that you like kids very much and they like you too, I am just thinking if you want a child. I don’t mean it now, b-but if y-you want now—”

“Sweetheart, has this been bothering your mind when we had dinner? About having a child?”

You look down, suddenly not courageous enough to face him, afraid of finding the disappointment or doubt in his eyes. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Seokjin closes you again now that you are chest by chest, face by face, his arms circling your back. “I want everything with you, Y/N. At the right place, at the right time.”

He continues, fixes your locks and rests a few lost strands behind your ear lovingly. “I know this has been hard, especially for you. Pregnancy, birthing is never easy, and I know it’s not really in your plan, even including me. So I will never force you to anything. I want everything you want, okay? And it’s your body. It’s your choice.”

You nod, burying your face on his shoulder, finding purchase on the musky scent of his. Oh, how much you love this man. “Thank you. I don’t know why you always have the rightest thing to say. I really, really envy and love you for it.”

“You went through for me. Of course I want to give you everything. I love you, Y/N, until the sea sleeps.” 

“Until the sea sleeps?” You cocks your head in questions. He nods affirmatively.

“Yes. If life is the sea, I want to go through it with you. Until it ends. Until it sleeps.” He plants kisses lovingly on your forehead, to your nose, and finally, to your lips. But at once you finally push him on his back, internally shouting in joy at his choice of grand large bed.

“How can you say such thoughtful and beautiful words with your dick is pressing on my stomach.“ You hisses in fake chagrin, before continuing. 

“I love you too, but for now let me ride you, daddy...” You whisper sensually, grinding at his half-erected cock. Seokjin smirks in amusement, resting both his palm behind his head as he enjoys the lewd sight, your breast jiggling wonderfully, your cold hands palming his dick.

Oh god, how much he loves you...

*

2 Years Later....

“Honey, can you help grabbing the diapers?” You pleaded from your bedroom, carefully cleaning your five months old baby girl, throwing away the spoiled diapers near your feet. Seokjin quickly arrives with a fresh set of diapers, baby oils, a fresh pair of baby overalls and beige shirt.

“Thank you, honey, you’re the best.” You smile as he pecks your lips slightly. You continue your work in changing Mina’s clothes as the baby lets out a light gurgles, Seokjin sitting across the bed, his lips curling at the beautiful sight. 

After finally falling in love with each other two years ago, you and Seokjin decided to go with your own pace and did not rush into having kids. It was the best decision after all, not a hint of doubts when you knew he’s just as invested as you are in this marriage. You decided to savor it all, both you and Seokjin took leave from work and humdrum life to explore the other side of world together. 

And eight months together passed, you and him both decided it would be the perfect time for you to start getting off the birth pill. Few months of trying and getting pregnancy, you and Seokjin are granted the beautiful healthy baby girl, whom both you named as Kim Mina.

Holding her then or now, you just know she’s already the best gift of your life that you’d do anything for her happiness and well being. 

“So, is Taehyung and Tasha anywhere near our house?” You ask, glancing at the clock. “They are probably the only people I’d worry at this point. All my work friends are already on the way. Yoongi is already in the way, right?”

“Yes he is. But no worry about Taehyung, sweetheart. I have made him promise or else he’ll have to be a clown for Mina’s birthday party.” Seokjin laughs. “All the food is served, everything is in the way it should be. We are going through this.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally having a housewarming party. And a baby too.” You laugh dreamily, picking up Mina to cradle on your chest. “Four years ago us would never believed this.”

“Four years ago Seokjin was a blind fool, I had to say. He almost missed the greatest woman on the planet.” Seokjin warmly back hugs you, kissing your cheek lovingly. You hum in mirth. “Luckily this greatest woman is willing to fight for him. The greatest gift for that lucky bastard, I have to say.”

“Well, she loved him too much, I have to say. It was all worth it.”

With the end of the sentence, a chime of bell is heard—somebody is coming. You quickly walk to the door with Seokjin on your side. The first one to arrive is Hoseok and Jungkook, the only single bachelor of the party. “Hi, Y/N, Seokjin! Congratulations, the house is incredible.” Both of them give you a sided hug, and Jungkook shoves two bottles of wine on your hold. 

“Drink up!” Jungkook giggles, kissing your baby’s cheek as he taps on Seokjin’s shoulder as a greeting, walking into your house to your tables of served dishes. 

In a spare of minutes, few of yours and Seokjin friends are walking in—Jane and her family, Namjoon and his wife and kid, and Yoongi with his girlfriend. You welcome them all with a wide smile, thankful for their presence.

Your parents and Seokjin’s surprisingly arrive right after each other, simultaneously gushing at their grandchild. “Mina! My very cute grandchild!” Your mother squeals in delight after giving you and Seokjin a greeting hug. Seokjin’s mother immediately scoops Mina out of your grasp, moving inside the house to play with her.

Walking around talking with your friends, another bell chime is heard from the door. You and Seokjin walk to open it, finding Jimin on the door with Yoonji, his wife of three months. Their face instantly lightens up at you, and you move to hug the blissful new couple. 

About Jimin, he finally moved back from Sydney to Seoul for good one and a half years ago. He was taking over a few branches of his father’s business, and you started rekindling the friendship with him. And you don’t want to brag, but you are the matchmaker for Jimin and Yoonji. She was the new assistant manager at your unit, and one dinner, you invited Jimin for dinner with your work friend’s and they instantly hit the bat right away. It doesn’t even take a year for Jimin to get on one knee and propose to her.

“Hi, Seokjin.” Jimin grins in courtesy. Seokjin answers with a laugh, pulling the younger guy into a side hug. You point Yoonji her way to Hoseok and Jungkook. “Congrats on the new house, man. This place is great.” Jimin sincerely compliments, handing him a large box of  housewarming gifts which Seokjin gladly receives with loud squeaky laughs of thank you.

It’s also been a year since Jimin had the talk with Seokjin, in which they bonded over alcohol and food. Jimin also apologized to what he did a few years back, and Seokjin instantly accepted it—no hard feelings, knowing that it was for the best as he finally found you, the best thing that happened to him. After that, Jimin basically joins the gang with Seokjin and Yoongi, and also hangs out with your friends slash his wife’s friend. It was all good.

After the housewarming party time finally arrives, the helper hands the drinks in tray for a toast. You lean onto Seokjin’s chest, as he begins the welcoming toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming. This hasn’t been a very easy ride with me and Y/N, but we are very thankful to where we are right now. A beautiful baby, a great house, a great loan—” Everyone chuckles at his joke. “ —but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanna say thank you to my wife, who has stood by me through thick and thin. I’d never be able to do it without you.”

Suddenly, the shouts to kiss are visible—high chance initiated by Jeon Jungkook—and you giggle before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. The aws are heard, and Seokjin looks back to the audience. “Thank you to my family and friends. Your great support is the reason we are here right now. I am very grateful.”

“Let’s toast, for this wonderful day. May we always be healthy and happy. Cheers!” Seokjin smiles and clinks his glass of champagne to yours. The sound of glass clinking against each other is heard simultaneously, and you sips on the beverage. Seokjin gazes down on you, a toxicated smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask, falling a bit shy.

“I am so happy. You make me very happy, and I thank you for that.” He closes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the sea sleeps.”

You hum in serenity, savoring his wondrous scent. “I love you too, baby. Until the sea sleeps.”

Suddenly, the doors are busted open, Taehyung rushed eyes staring confusedly at the large group of people settling on their places, Taehyun on his grasp. “Am I late? I don’t have to be a clown, right?!”

Just an disinterested glace before the crowd disperse around the home in group. Seokjin cunningly smirks at him, walking closer and taps his shoulder in a fake comforting manner. 

“Sorry, brother. Looking forward to you coming as a clown in Mina’s birthday party, okay?”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, but is not missed by your approaching mother-in-law. She immediately screeches loudly in anger, completely enraged with both hands on hips.

“Kim Taehyung! Your son is there, and you curse?! How dare you set out a bad example for your son?!”

He grimace, glaring at you and your husband who are laughing heartily at his clear misery.

“Lord, have your mercy.”

Thank you for reading! it’s such a great ride writing this. Credits to one quora answer I read that inspires this whole fluffy prompt. And all the smut writers that inspired me on writing such unholy scenes lol

Do slide into my ask box and let me know what you think! 🤩💜💌  And check out my other fics ➡ (click here)!

[elizabeth-mitchells]

Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Fear Street x Bly Manor AU - Chapter 2

Chapters: 2/10 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary:

The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 2:

Sam hadn’t been kidding when she said she would deal with the kids by herself. About nine years as a teacher were worth it. She knew exactly how to balance patience and authority, and exactly when to crack a smile. It wasn’t time for smiles though. It was time to let the kids of Shadyside manor know that their days of self-government were over. Sam was brought there to bring them an education, and that included rules, discipline, and consequences to their actions.

So, if they locked her in a closet, there would have to be a sort of punishment. If they were responsible for the muddy footprints that appeared on the staircase of the house, there would also be a punishment. Nothing too severe, of course. Sam knew even the word punishment seemed too hard for kids. But she knew this would be her only chance at asserting her position in that place.

That was how, after breakfast, Sam found herself with nothing to do while Josh and Constance worked on cleaning up the stairs. Luckily, she was quickly approached by two of her coworkers.

“So, since you have put the kids to do my work,” Kate said. “Why don’t you come hang us for a bit?”

Simon pulled out one of the chairs from the table and with a flourish offered it to Sam, “Miss Fraser, would you care to join us for a mid-morning shit-talking session?”

“Oh, sure,” Sam chuckled nervously and accepted the seat. “And you can just call me Sam.” She couldn’t help repeating herself. She didn’t exactly have good memories attached to her name. She only ever wished to be just Sam.

“Don’t creep her out, please,” Kate told her friend and two of them took a seat as well. “So, Sam, what do you think of the house so far? And the kids?”

The new au pair took her time to answer. “The house is… big. It’s uh, I mean, sure, it looks scary. But once inside, it doesn’t feel as bad as the rumors make it out to be, you know?”

Kate nodded firmly, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Simon grinned playfully and leaned forward on the table as if about to discuss a secret, “You don’t have haunted houses in Sunnyvale?”

Sam chuckled bitterly at that. Apparently, it wasn’t a secret for anyone the place she came from. If only they knew the full story. “No we don’t,” she looked down and shook her head. “Sunnyvale has its different types of hauntings though.”

“What about the kids?” Kate blurted out.

“The Sunnyvale kids?”

“What? No! Constance and Josh,” Kate scoffed, and sent an unimpressed look in Sam's way. 

“Oh, right,” Sam laughed nervously. She desperately hoped she wasn’t blushing in embarrassment. Kate was staring at her very intently, studying her. But it was, somehow, not getting exactly the effect she was hoping for in Sam. Because yes, maybe Sam was deeply intimidated. But she could also tell that Kate’s harshness came from a place of being protective of the kids and caring about them. “They seem great, really,” Sam eventually replied. “Constance is bold and Josh is an introvert, but I’ve dealt with kids like that my entire life. I’m going to try my best with them though, that’s for sure. I just… have to get to know them.”

At that moment, Kate and Simon exchanged a look. Sam had no doubt it was true that those two had been best friends for a long time. It seemed like a really important conversation was silently happening between them. Finally, Simon spoke up.

“No, you haven’t worked with kids like them,” he replied, suddenly very careful with his words. “No offense, you know? But, bold and introverted mean different things in Sunnyvale and Shadyside. Here they mean something more along the lines of survivor and traumatized.”

A not completely discreet cough from Kate got him to stop talking. “No, I know, I’m sorry,” Sam was quick to apologize. They weren’t completely wrong. “I know, it’s just, well… I don’t know anything… I mean, what, uh, why…” She ended with a sigh and slumping in her chair, knowing there was no right way to ask the questions she had in mind.

“Constance’s parents died two years ago,” Kate said. She was speaking almost in whispers, but it nearly startled Sam, who didn’t think she’d get any sort of explanation. Afterward, she would hope she hadn’t. “Cindy Berman and husband. Plane crashed. Then, last year… her aunt. Christine killed herself here on the property. Really gives you some perspective into all the fucking rumors, doesn’t it?”

Afterward, Sam was beyond speechless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a thing to say. That’s when Simon joined in.

“And Josh, he… uh, well, he is not one of the Bermans,” Simon was struggling to explain. “Look, he has his own fucked up past, okay? But I can’t tell you more because Deena would totally kick my ass. It’s their story to tell, you know? The past is the past anyway.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. At least, she hoped she appeared thoughtful. Not too thoughtful though. Just thoughtful enough for someone that has perfectly normal reactions to hearing the name of a very particular co-worker. That momentary panic at least gave her an idea of how to reply to the tough conversation. A change of subject.

“What about you guys?” Sam asked. “How did you end up working at the manor?”

Instantly, Kate seemed to relax. “I just like bossing people around,” she grinned, earning laughter from the other two. “My aunt used to work here. Alice pays well enough. And if you don’t get scared easily, it’s not a bad place to live in.”

Sam smiled at her and then looked at Simon, noticing how he didn’t look half as relaxed as Kate this time. “What can I say?” he smiled in a way that kept a lot hidden. “It pays the bills. It’s close to home. And I fucking love food.”

The au pair decided it wasn’t time to push for more information. Instead, in that brief moment of silence, she turned her head to look through the door at Josh and Constance working on the stairs. They were doing well, but their day was far from over. From her point of view, she had no way of seeing the man standing on the other side of the stairs. Tommy Slater had been standing there for longer than he could remember. He was still wearing his red flannel shirt, still holding on to his axe, still looking impossibly sad, cold, and lonely.

--

As she made her way to the greenhouse, Sam tried to convince herself she wasn’t nervous at all. She had no reason to be anxious at all. Deena Johnson was another one of her coworkers. Sure, maybe she pulled Sam out of a pretty embarrassing breakdown the previous night. Yes, maybe she had an incredible smile that almost painfully reminded Sam of feelings she had spent a lifetime running from. But… she reached the greenhouse before coming up with a reason not to be on edge.

“Hi?” she called out, tentatively stepping inside the place.

“Over here,” a voice replied from the back of the greenhouse. A voice that was like no other Sam had ever heard.

“Um, hi, Deena,” Sam approached her slowly. “It’s me, uh, Sam.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Deena replied, a small smile on her lips. She stood up from the ground, where she had been kneeling down to work on one of the multiple plants that filled this space. “What do you have there?” Deena asked, nodding toward the plate Sam was holding in her hand.

Sam looked down, as if she had forgotten what it was she was carrying. “Simon,” she blurted out.

“Oh. He looks a little bit different than I remember.”

That made Sam laugh nervously. “I mean, it’s your breakfast,” Sam said. “You didn’t come down for breakfast and Simon asked me to bring it to you.”

Deena nodded slowly, and accepted the plate from Sam’s hands. Then she moved to one of the two chairs at the back of the greenhouse and sat down, inspecting her breakfast.

Afterward, Sam might chastise herself for it, but at the moment she couldn’t help but blurt out, “You’re welcome.”

That earned her an annoyed sigh from the gardener. “Listen, you don’t have to do this,” Deena said.

“Do what?” Sam wondered, taking a seat on the spare chair.

“Play nice with us, with me,” Deena explained, nearly whispering the last part.

“I…” Sam stuttered, she was definitely taken off guard. “Well, we are coworkers now, we live under the same roof, I think-”

“I think you have no idea what you got yourself into. This place, and everyone here, is doomed,” Deena interrupted her. “You’re Sunnyvale, we are Shadyside trash. I know your type. I only hope you’ll run away before the kids get attached to you.”

For a moment, all Sam could do was stare, frown silently at Deena, as the other woman nonchalantly got started on her breakfast, as if she hadn’t just put Sam’s entire mood upside down. It was interesting though, the way Deena chose not to mention the fact that she skipped breakfast just to avoid a set of blue eyes that were too dangerously pretty to wander into Shadyside.

Sam jumped out of her seat, and took a deep breath to reign in her feelings. “You don’t know me at all,” was all she said before walking out of the greenhouse.

--

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur of hard work, mostly for the kids. Surprisingly though, at one point they stopped looking so bothered about it. Josh wasn’t the kind to complain out loud, but Sam noticed from the way his shoulders relaxed and his lips almost started to smile. Constance, on the other hand, was pretty content complaining as much as possible, but she seemed happier doing something new, entertaining, and different from studying. They especially seemed to enjoy working outside.

Sam had wanted to avoid the unkind gardener as much as possible, but she had already planned this, so there was no turning back. This was part of the kids’ education, hard work, and Sam was proud of her methods. The one thing she wasn’t proud of was the way the gardener was making her feel. Her plan to avoid Deena had backfired. Deena, Kate, and Simon were lounging in the garden, while Sam guided Josh and Constance on their work.

As hard as she tried, Sam couldn’t stop herself from second-guessing what her new coworkers were talking about. Were they talking about her? Good things? Did Kate and Simon feel the same way as Deena? Were they criticizing her? Those smiles on their faces, was that a good or bad sign? Deena’s posture on that chair, the way she held a cigarette, played with the delicate chain hanging from her neck, teased her young brother, locked eyes with Sam precisely once… did it mean anything at all?

--

The rest of the morning went by easily. Sam dragged Josh and Constance back to the house to continue cleaning, and they had to comply. Tragic as it seemed, they couldn’t complain to anybody. Kate, Simon, Deena, even Alice in the safety of her own home, they all would have supported Sam’s teaching methods at best, would’ve laughed in their faces at worst. 

Things couldn’t be perfect though. Sam would scold herself for letting her guard down at all. She had been in one of the bedrooms, assisting Constance with cleaning the windows, when it happened. One second it was just a window, showing the green grounds around the property, nothing more. Then the next second, all Sam could see was his face. Dark. Just a shadow. Furious. Disgusted. Head tilted. Observing her. Unforgiving. Horribly familiar.

Sam let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backward. She caught herself before falling down to the floor, but not before Constance saw her. At first, the girl chuckled, but she sounded somewhat genuine when she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m- uh, I’m okay,” Sam replied, voice trembling. “Give me a minute.”

She was out of that room before hearing the girl’s reply. She couldn’t move fast enough, but her legs were trembling. She couldn’t shake that image of her mind. Her own particular ghost. The monster that she hadn’t been able to leave in Sunnyvale. Following her reflection everywhere she went.

Sam stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. She finally found refuge behind one of the big bushes on the sides of the entrance. A place where she could break down in peace. She couldn’t stop the tears, and she could hardly breathe, and she was so scared.

“Are you okay?”

The question makes Sam choke one of her sobs. Of all people that could have caught her at this moment…

“I get it,” Deena cautiously added, from a safe distance away. “I swear I had the same reaction after I met Constance.” She could barely see Sam, hiding behind the bush, but she guessed that privacy was exactly what the blonde wanted. “If Josh’s the problem though, just let me know. You aren’t allowed to, but I can totally kick his ass.” That earned her a tearful chuckle from Sam, which was a very good sign. “Just so you know though,” Deena added, “That’s usually my spot for having an emotional breakdown. Now I have to go to this other corner and there are spiders and shit in there, no privacy at all.”

This time, there was a genuine laugh coming from Sam. The tears had stopped, and she managed to find the strength to look over her shoulder, show her face to Deena and say, “Thank you.”

Deena softly shook her head, dismissing Sam’s need to thank her. “You’re doing better than most people could,” she said. Seeing Sam smile sadly, acknowledging her tear-streaked face, Deena insisted, “I mean it.”

There was a pause then. Sam opened her mouth, desperately wishing she could say something else. All she wanted was to ask Deena how she could be so kind and so cruel as if a switch was flipped inside her. But Sam feared that saying more than two words would make her cry again. Deena took that as her cue to go on with her day.

“Back to work then,” Deena said, starting to march back into the house. “Stay strong, Sunnyvale.”

Definitely done with her tears, Sam was having trouble holding back her smile. She tried to sneak another glance at the gardener, but Deena was gone, leaving behind only a pleasant warmth in Sam’s heart and a firm smile on her face.

--

Nine years of teaching had taught Sam a lot. She knew how to handle kids, that was for sure. The unruly ones, the proud ones, the ones that struggled, and the ones that shined brightly. Simon had been right when he said she had never worked with kids like Josh and Constance. Still, she was prepared to deal with Josh picking up spiders from the garden, and trying to scare her. She didn’t lose her ground even when Constance’s attitude sometimes made Sam feel like she was the teenager out of the two of them.

What she did that day wasn’t the worst Sam had to do for one of her students. Still, it was pretty awkward explaining to Deena how her younger brother had massacred the rose bushes to give the flowers to Sam.

When the two women arrived at the scene of the crime, it was a huge mess. Josh had picked a few roses for Sam and destroyed the rest. He must have been pretty aggressive to earn that small limp he had when he walked toward Sam a few minutes earlier.

The teenager fell to second place in the forefront of Sam’s mind though. She was slightly more preoccupied about the furious gardener gripping the broken stem of a rose as if it were a knife.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Deena yelled, not for the first time in the past minute, and tried to walk away.

“Hey,” Sam stopped her with a firm tone and a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll deal with him, it’s my job.”

Deena took a deep breath. She was pretty much shaking with anger still. She pursed her lips, suddenly aware of the way she had been yelling at the innocent au pair for god knows how long now. She wasn’t good at apologizing though. She slumped her shoulders and exhaled.

“It’s just… he should know better than this,” Deena said bitterly. “We are lucky to be living here. He knows he has to stay out of trouble.” She looked up into Sam’s blue eyes and the careful attention she found there nearly turned her breathless. “That was the deal,” Deena added softly, taking a moment to gulp nervously. “I made a deal with Cindy Berman years ago, when we had nothing. Josh and I could live here, and I’d pay her by working on the grounds of the manor.”

Sam nodded slowly, with a barely-there smile that let Deena know she had listened, and understood. “It’s okay,” Sam said. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. I won’t say anything if you don’t.” The two women exchanged a smile. “It’s just a few flowers-”

“It’s not just a few flowers,” Deena protested immediately.

“I know, I know,” Sam quickly said. She was tiptoeing the line between fearing Deena’s temper and being endeared by how protective she was of her plants. “They’re also a weapon, apparently.”

Deena tilted her head in confusion. “Ah,” she said when she looked down at the rose’s stem she was still holding in her hand. She couldn’t say anything else though. Sam had taken the initiative to reach out and gently pry open Deena’s fist to take the stem away. That’s when they both noticed there had been thorns involved. “Shit,” Deena cursed.

“Um,” Sam mumbled pensively as she stared at the couple of red spots on Deena’s hand. “You know, to be a teacher, you have to learn a thing or two about first aid. Do you want help?”

Deena was already shaking her head. Her wild curls shook with her movement. “No, it’s okay- fuck!” She exclaimed in pain the moment she tried to close her hand again. Now there were a few drops of blood on her palm. “Fine,” she grumbled. 

--

Deena was so upset about having someone bandaging her hand, that Sam found the whole process much easier than she had expected. It was a little bit like dealing with a kid, not that she would ever admit such a thing to the gardener. 

“So, you really like those roses, huh?” Sam asked while cleaning up the little wounds in Deena’s palm.

“They’re some of my favorites from the entire property,” Deena shrugged. “I like all these plants more than most people, that’s for sure.”

Sam nodded, picking up the bandages. “Why would he do this?” she asked. “Josh, I mean. He doesn’t seem to be the type to vandalize the gardens.”

“He isn’t. There was one bad fucking influence and…” Deena replied. Her words were hiding a lot, but her resentful tone warned the au pair against making any further questions. Instead, Deena looked up and added, “or maybe… he just really likes you, Sunnyvale.”

Sam laughed at that, and ducked her head to avoid those gorgeous brown eyes. Surprisingly, she decided to admit something right then and there in the otherwise empty kitchen of the manor while holding on to Deena’s hand. “You do know I’m not even from Sunnyvale, right?” 

“What?” Deena asked. She looked caught off guard for the first time since Sam met her.

“You guys don’t fact-check your gossip, huh?” Sam chuckled. “I was born here, in Shadyside. I moved away when I was little, after my father died, but… I guess, now I’m trying to find my home, you know?”

“Right,” Deena replied.

She blinked slowly, and her eyebrows furrowed into a small frown as she took in the information, the significance of Sam sharing it with her, and the unknown reason why the word home sounded so perfect coming from Sam’s smiling lips.

After a brief silence that felt like it stretched for hours, Deena cleared her throat. “Well, uh, thank you, for giving me a hand,” she said. The mention of her hand made both women realize that this entire time they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. They pulled away from each other quickly, but nothing could have wiped the smiles off their faces. “It’s not the worst I’ve dealt with so I better get back to work. I guess I’ll see you around… Sunnyvale.”

Sam didn’t even attempt to hold back her grin. Distantly, she wished she wasn’t blushing too much, but that was it. She turned around to watch Deena walk away from the kitchen. Then she was rewarded with the sight of Deena looking back at her once before crossing the doorway.

When she was alone again, Sam leaned her back against the counter and sighed. It was a mixture of contentment and exhaustion. She had tried her best to maintain a good impression in front of Deena, and now she could finally relax. She was starting to understand her better too, how Deena’s boldness came from a good place of being protective over her brother, and maybe even over the whole property. Sam’s exhaustion though, didn’t come from anywhere near Deena, the teens, or the house. She was only realizing how absurdly debilitating it had been to keep up a false version of herself at all times during those years in Sunnyvale. Slowly but surely, she was leaving all that behind.

Sam took a deep breath and straightened up. Then she started to walk out of the kitchen following the path Deena had walked a minute ago. She didn’t have to look back before crossing the doorway, she just kept walking. This way, she missed Ryan Torres’s presence in one corner of the kitchen. Lonesome, unknown, fumbling with the knife he still carried at all times.

--

“Josh! Constance! You guys are way too old for this kind of game!” Sam was yelling as she walked around the house. She didn’t understand how Kate hadn’t heard her yet.

She wasn’t scared. Just because they had turned off all the lights and she was only barely familiar with the house didn’t mean she should be scared. The kids wanted to improvise a game of hide and seek to avoid going to bed? Fine. Sam wasn’t scared of the dark. In the darkness she couldn’t see her reflection and whatever cursed company she would find there. If she had to drag a couple of teenagers to their beds from their ears then so be it. 

When Sam caught sight of the curtains of one room moving strangely, she hurried towards it and pulled at it, but there was nobody there. She sighed, disappointed, stressed, but not scared, not yet. She heard footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she distinctly heard the front door of the house open. Chills ran through Sam’s spine. It was unsettling, but not too bad, right? She would be deeply upset if she had to chase a pair of teenagers out in the middle of a storm, but it could be worse.

It could be worse… Maybe it was much worse than she imagined. That was the thought going through Sam’s mind when, very slowly, she turned back around to face the window again. At first, it looked like a blur. Then, she feared it was that same ghostly silhouette that followed her everywhere. Somehow, it was worse. Somehow, the figure moved closer and it became clear. There was a man standing on the other side of the window. Tall. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Smile that never, under any circumstances, would have been mistaken for friendly.

Sam took a step backward, so did he. Then she took off running. Not in the direction some might have expected. She wasn’t running away to hide. She ran out of that room, taking the fireplace poker from its stand and gripping it with force as she rushed out of the house.

“I’m going to call the police!” Sam yelled while the rain poured down on her. “I’m going to call the fucking police!”

She ran toward the window where she’d seen that man. He was nowhere to be seen but, as if it was all part of a pattern, she stumbled across the worst possible scenario.

“Sam?” Josh mumbled. He was just standing there, shaking with cold, drenched from the rain… then he just crumbled down, falling to the ground, unconscious.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

11. Wait

Patience is a virtue, which demons, especially little mischievous imps, do not have at all. …Not that Joey was ever a patient man before losing his physical humanity. (Set in an AU where by yeeting Joey into the ink machine before going through the portal-door in the kitchen, Henry is accompanied by a chatty, useless, and overall insufferable little imp.)

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’D JUST DO THAT TO ME!” ‘Bendy’ yelled at Henry in a voice that sounded like his human self’s voice. If the former director had been a child and had inhaled a bunch of helium beforehand. The little imp was simply impossible to take seriously when his voice was cracking up worse than a weak shelled egg. “I CAN’T… HOW DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO BREAK SCRIPT?! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO MOVE DURING CUTSCENES! LET ALONE DO… THIS TO ME!”

He gestured at his body as Henry’s mouth twitched as the old animator fought back the urge to smile, he knew the action would quickly turn into him laughing and crying on the floor so hard that it would hurt his ribs.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t answer your questions.” Henry whipped out the seeing tool and began to scan the room for new messages. They never changed as long as he could remember, but it never hurt to look. “But maybe some of our old friends downstairs can help. I know Sammy’s been deeply invested in the occult and dark arts ever since his ‘enlightenment’, and Susie seems to know a thing or two about how and why humans turn into ink creatures. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help us.”

Joey audibly gulped, his eyes widened in fear, and he fidgeted with the collar of his pajama top that was now far too big for him while chasing Henry, who was seemingly physically on autopilot as he was going through the top floor of the studio.

“H-hey H-Henry C’mon! We still have time to turn back-”

“No we don’t.” He deadpanned as the pair passed by the dead Boris. “The door always locks behind me when I enter.”

“I- uh- Okay, so you’re right… but we don’t have to start the story! We’ll just keep the machine off and we’ll just live on the top floor of this studio for the rest of our possibly endless lives!”

“Okay.”

“I know it’s not the most- Wait, what, really?”

“Yep, sounds like a plan.”

Henry walked down to the breakroom with Joey following on his heels (occasionally tripping on his own pants/bathrobe), grabbed The Illusion Of Living, sat down on a couch, opened the book and began to read.

The newly minted Imp was both relieved and confused, while he liked the idea of not having to face the horrors he created, he thought that Henry would fight back a bit more than this.

“...You’re not even going to argue?”

“Joey, I’m too tired to argue right now and honestly, it’s nice being able to just... slow down and not be rushed by invisible puppet strings to go through the same hopeless horror story over and over again.” The man adjusted himself on the couch into a more comfortable position and stuck the book into his face, ending the conversation. “It’s also nice to finally get to wait and have a damn break to myself where I’m not unconscious or imprisoned against my will.” He added under his breath.

The imp nodded and left Henry to his reading, sensing the hostile tension in the room.

It took roughly fifteen minutes for Joey to realize that living in the safe, monsterless, top floor of the studio was boring.

He couldn’t draw for self-entertainment as in addition to the issue of his new four-fingered hands, his art skills had been “Comedically” diminished to being no better than a kindergartner's, and it hurt him to look at his new works when seconds ago he was a master of the art form.

The reels upon reels of cartoons in the storage? The man already knew them all by heart, no need to waste time by setting them up in the projector.

Read the books? Pretty much all the books on this floor were in the breakroom. …So not while Henry was very obviously still mad with him.

Darts? Same issue as the books.

He tried stacking as many soup cans as he could find but that got boring quickly as well.

For the longest, most agonizing two and a half minutes, he just laid down on the floor and stared at the ceiling waiting for something to happen.

Okay, he couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he was just itching to do SOMETHING productive. And why should he be stuck as an imp in the studio anyway? He knew the path back to his own world like the back of his hand! (both as a human and an imp.) It wouldn’t be TOO difficult to just accompany Henry through the usual romp of the set story and have everything go back to normal afterwards.

The toon made up his mind and started setting up the ritual, plugging in the ink machine, and realized he still needed Henry, the ink, and the book. Luckily for Joey, the tension in the air seemed to be lifted when he went back inside the break room.

“Henry, I changed my mind, we can’t live here.”

“Figured you’d say that.”

“Oh thank goodness...”

The two stayed there in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time as Henry read his book.

“...Well?”

“Just wait until I finish this book, it’s getting interesting.”

Curious, Joey peeked at the cover, something that Henry noticed.

“So about Kyle…”

“OH MY GOD!” Joey tried to snatch the book out of Henry’s hands, but the old man was faster and now much taller than him. The animator simply stood up and held it above his head. “GIVE IT BACK!”

“Nope.” Henry grinned. “You have to wait until I finish it before I hand it over.”

“YOU MONSTER!” Joey shouted, his face was a bright red, and tears of embarrassment were prickling in his eyes, which if you brought them up to him he would swear were just from the stress of losing his humanity and all that jazz. “I BET YOU WERE JUST WAITING TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS ALL ALONG!”

“Nope, I just saw the opportunity and took it. Now sit down and wait until I finish the book and we can talk later. I’m sure if you continue looking, you’ll find something to entertain yourself with, something much more interesting than a forgettable old man like me.”

The imp balled his fists, let out a wordless frustrated scream, and stomped off to sulk somewhere.

[retvenkos]

“are you always this chaotic?”

A/N: i have an inquisitive anon in my ask box that deserves the whole world, and i decided their amazing (sometime hilarious) ask deserved better formatting, so here we are. sweet anon, this is for you.

tw: language

@bladesappreciationweek​​ A COLLECTION OF RANDOM HEADCANONS AND MEMES FOR THE INCOMPARABLE BLADES COMPANY...

who reserves the right to say “fuck”?

mal does not deserve the right. 10/10 he would use it every other word just for the effect of it all (scandalizing tyril who is upper class and thinks there are “better, more intellectual insults” and upsetting nia who tries to play it off like it doesn’t bother her, but she doesn’t like it). no rights, we’re censoring mal.

nia deserves the right, but she would never use it. not even in her dreadlord state did she utter it (the dreadlord is also an upper class elitist, fight me) but she argues with mal that she can say it and she would, but scholar vash is watching over her right now and she can’t disgrace him (scholar vash would be vvv proud if she said it, though, don’t even lie). olinda egged her on one night and she whispered it, dissolving into a fit of giggles afterward, but neither of them speak of it afterward.

tyril does not deserve the right. he believes himself too good™ for such a word, so he doesn’t get rights. he says he’s better than banal vernacular, thank you very much, but that’s awfully presumptuous of him and fails to take into account that, at all times he’s 5 seconds away from saying it, now that mal has entered his life. 100%, mal is trying to get tyril to say it by startling him at unnecessary times or just being generally irritating, and he never gets tyril to crack. i imagine tyril does end up saying it, though. aerin turns out to be the bad guy and nia falls into the portal or whatever and tyril is just like “...... fuck.” mal is bitter he wasn’t the one to make it happen, but he doesn’t whine about it until after the dreadlord has been defeated. nia is slightly upset that she was the reason tyril broke his solemn vow, but she also laughed thoroughly at mal’s rendition of the moment and regrets that she wasn’t there to see it.

imtura deserves the right and uses it. imtura curses like a sailor. .....get it? because she’s a— alright, you get it. but yes, imtura gets to the right to say fuck and she says it enough for everyone. if mal ever wants to express himself using the expletive, imtura will gladly say it for him. solidarity. but she’s also sweet, deep down, and she keeps her swearing to a minimum when nia is around. 

olinda deserves the right, 100%. she doesn’t say it often, but when she does, it has such power. mal wishes he had the commanding presence. olinda is generally too intent on finding a solution to the problem to ever dwell on failure, but when she goes into battle and realizes her group is terrible outnumbered? oop, there it is.

kade. oh, my sweet summer child, who swears often enough to rival imtura. 100%, he deserves the say “fuck” because every bard deserves free access to every word they can get their hands on. it’s rather funny that kade has a terrible mouth, since he’s like the golden retriever of the group (barring nia, ofc), but it’s also rather fitting. imtura was taken aback and mal had mad respect after hearing one of his tirades (directed at threep, ofc) and tyril is just like,,,,,, will i ever rEsT? anyway, let kade say fuck.

threep does not, under any circumstance deserve the right. threep will go off if given the right to swear, and it’s terribly annoying. everyone is trying to travel through a small town and then, out of the priestess of light’s travel bag you hear the worst string of curses you’ve ever heard - so many outdated and upper class curses picked up through the millennia and then you hear the most country, farmer swears (thanks, kade). it scandalizes everyone and nia is the poor girl who has to carry threep around. don’t let threep swear, whatever you do. it’s a power far too strong for this world.

what they get a tattoo of...

mal tries desperately to have the ~aesthetic~ so you know he gets something like a compass or a dagger or something equally as wanderlust and vague. it’s hella intricate and it’s probably on his forearm or something. i feel like mal is 100% that guy who has a tattoo for his mom on his chest but is also deeply terrified of commitment so the mere idea of getting a tattoo for someone else paralyzes him with intense fear. i don’t feel like mal is the guy to have writing for tattoos - he’s much more open to drawings than words. he’s all about the imagery. mal probably has a couple of tattoos though - he might be starting a sleeve or something, idk.

nia would deliberate long and hard before getting a tattoo - it’s permanent, after all, so she wants it to be something special. she 100% puts it on her lower back, which she grows to regret because she can’t actually see it? it is probably a flower a drawing of the temple of light, or a light crystal or something. i have a feeling there’s a prayer written in cursive that kind of wraps around the image she has tattooed. mal took her to get her tattoo and he was a proud brother™.

tyril was 100% that emo kid who wrote angsty song lyrics in a notebook, and that has not changed. i 100% guarantee that his first tattoo is a poem or something that he either wrote himself or desperately wishes he had written. he probably has it tattooed on his side or something equally as dramatic. mal wishes he had the flair that tyril just naturally carries. he’s iconic™ without even trying. he probably only has a few tattoos and most of them are small. he was one big tattoo on his back - it’s elaborate and kind of works like a family tree. it’s unique to him - he likes the idea that he carries his ancestors with him, no matter where he goes. nia notices one night that the company is on it, too, and she never says anything, but she’s touched.

imtura gets all the NAUTICAL IMAGERY. she 100% has one of those bands wrapping around her bicep, made of waves. i also imagine that imtura has a lot of ink? it’s what she deserves, and i feel like orcs are really artistic with their tattoos - their tattoos are culturally relevant and she has a story for every single one. mal knows every single story - they get sentimental on night watches. i imagine that imtura also knows how to give tattoos, so i headcanon that she gave olinda one that represents the company. imtura thought it was very sappy, but deep down, she was honored to do it.

olinda. similar to imtura, olinda has a lot of ink. the only difference is that she gets hers later on. there is one (1) person who knows how to tattoo in riverbend, and olinda got a few from them, but once she goes out to see the world? she’s going to the good™ tattoo artists and she’s fulfilling her dreams. i feel like olinda get’s her tattoos in very pointed spots - she definitely has a sleeve and you can “read” it from top to bottom - the story of her life. kade jokes that olinda’s memory is shot and so she has to get tattoos to remember her story, but he also really admires them. olinda has a lot of constellation tattoos, including some of the ones that kade made up. she’s very sappy, tbh.

kade got one (1) tattoo when he and olinda were piss drunk. it’s a matching tattoo with olinda that’s very weird and makes no sense at all. you had to be there, and tbh, even if you were there, it doesn’t make sense. to top it all off, it’s on his bicep so that when he flexes, it wiggles. at the time, olinda and kade thought it was the funniest thing and they died of laughter. does he regret it? kade maintains that he doesn’t. does he know the story behind it? he likes to say he does, but he actually doesn’t. olinda knows, and sometimes she’ll drop vague hints to see if it jogs his memory. kade maintains that he’ll never get another tattoo. once was enough.

modern! au ethnicities

disclaimer that there are a lot of great headcanons out there, and i’m here for most of them, these are just my ideas..

i imagine that mal is indian or pakistani, nia is brazilian or dominican, tyril is japanese or mongolian, imtura is maori or samoan, olinda is latina, and kade is half hispanic, half filipino.

when texting.... (and some handwriting thoughts)...

a modern! au? idk, maybe just an au where they somehow have modern technology? anyway...

mal grossly overuses emojis. his favorites are these: 🤑🔪😎😏. he also never uses proper capitalization and punctuation, and he uses abbreviations far too often. you need a key to figure out some of his texts, but imtura and olinda just know what he means. his philosophy is style and speed over substance. when he writes handwritten notes, though, his handwriting is a very fancy cursive and the care he puts into each letter is amazing. he only ever handwrites love letters to olinda and “i hate you <3″ letters to tyril, though. he did write a heartfelt birthday letter to nia, once. she framed it.

nia is my favorite because she texts like a grandparent, where they format texts like a letter and have perfect punctuation and capitalization. when she got a text from mal, she was very confused by what he was trying to express, but she wanted to know how he got the “cute faces” and mal immediately dropped everything to teach her how to use emojis. she loves them and probably uses a string of emojis at the end of her text as a part of her signature, like: [ the body of the text ] Best, Nia 😇🥰👑💖🌸 but her handwriting! it’s very nice. the temple of light had penmanship classes and nia excelled. ngl, she probably does caligraphy.

tyril uses no capitalization. punctuation only. you can hear the sarcasm through his text. he also hates emojis and memes with a burning passion. he has used this, though: -.-  he did it for nia. she loved it and now every time they text, he ends his texts with his “emoji”. mal teases him because it’s dumb and now it’s a running gag that everyone send the weird emoji to each other. it’s the tyril face! tyril wants to jump off a bridge, but also finds it very sweet? he has people giving him emoji’s? is that like.... friendship? anyway, his handwriting is terrible. glorified chicken scratch. it’s efficient and nearly illegible. perfect.

imtura, on the other hand texts the most “traditionally”. she doesn’t really adhere to capitalization, and she never has the ending period, but you know what she’s saying. it’s decent. she doesn’t like to complicate things, but kade introduced her to memes and now she and him communicate together solely using low resolution memes that no one else likes. it’s very annoying but very endearing. her handwriting is nice - simple and easy to understand. she uses a lot of shorthand and a lot of sailor jargon that goes over some people’s (read: tyril’s) heads, but is smart and to the point.

olinda, actually, is the one to have proper punctuation and capitalization, with little flavor to her texts. occasionally she’ll send an emoji or two, but mostly it’s just... communication. she much prefers calling, and will call you 20 times in a row until you answer. she forces tyril to facetime her and he rolls his eyes but secretly loves it. communication is much more efficient when you can see each others facial expressions, and boy, does context go a long way when talking with tyril. oH! I FORGOT TO MENTION - olinda grew up on a rural farm. olinda chronically says “y’all” and has all of those weird, farm related sayings. kade doesn’t have this problem because he “trained himself in verse” and said that he had to be “worldly” not “farm chic.” anyway, her handwriting is kind of careless in nature - not especially nice, but not especially terrible, either. it’s a hybrid between cursive and print (whatever is fastest is best).

kade texts solely in dank memes and lengthy prose. he is the most chaotic person in the group chat, either bidding the company to draw near by sending them four stanzas of incredibly vague meaning (only tyril and olinda understand) or he’s sending “vroom vroom bitch” memes that mal and imtura adore. the blades book may not have given kade flavor, but on GOD i will give it to him because a bard requires chaotic vibes, even if he has a tragic backstory. you know what? especially because he has a tragic backstory, kade deserves some chaos. give me chaotic kade or give me death. as for handwriting, i like to think that kade has two modes: “drafting” handwriting (chicken scratch to rival tyril) and “final product” handwriting that is purposefully and beautifully penned. he had a lot of time to perfect his writing, being sick, and boy did it pay off.

threep deserves to be in this line up, despite not being able to write. in this chaotic technology au, nia has created an instagram page for threep, and because he’s one of the last living nespers, it goes viral. when olinda and mal stumble upon it they have to laugh because it’s full of really expertly done ~aesthetic~ photos with really sweet captions - things threep wouldn’t say in a million years. the account is only up for a few months and at first the posting is really consistent, and then it suddenly falls apart and the account is deleted soon after. apparently, threep didn’t know the instagram account existed and when he found out, he and nia had legendary fights and wouldn’t speak for like, 2 weeks after. nia made a very shady and slightly vague call out post and it was the first time the company really saw her get petty. the instagram page was the perfect fuel for kade’s scathing and petty remarks at threep, and threep came out hard, making a dig at kade’s writing and his stupid tattoo. threep nearly died at the hands of the two sweetest - kade and nia. it was certainly one for the books.

high school! au

(you are right, anon, a high school au would be iconic™)

mal is 100% a band kid. he has the “i play the guitar to be cool” vibes. and besides, the guitar player in the band is always a little more ~rebellious~ than the other band kids (superseded only by the standing bass kids in orchestra, who had unrivaled chaotic evil energy). plus, mal has a flair for the dramatic, which the band kids have in spades. mal is a little too much of a rule breaker to have been on any teams or anything super structured like that, and while we all know that he’s a heartbreaker, he’s not a popular kid™ because (at least in my school) the popular kids are always rich kids who run in the “right” circles. mal is too cool for that.

nia on the other hand is the smart prep that’s really sweet. like, the girl who’s friends with the cheerleaders and could have been one, too, if she wasn’t so shy™. she’s mostly overlooked in favor of the more glamorous, but everyone knows nia and they’re all like, “yeah! she’s cute! and smart, and nice.” she’s probably in like, robotics club or something equally as estranged but smart. 100%, nia is the gabriella montez archetype. she’s in a few clubs, including choir, where her angelic voice earns her a few solos. people are always trying to give her positions of power in their clubs, but she graciously declines because she’s stretched too thin and stress is a thing.

tyril. i know you all want him to be like, the smart one who’s in debate club and is really charming, but tyril’s social skills are not cut out for that. tyril is like that smart kid who sits at the back of history class and knows all the answers but never raises his hand. he has one (1) popular friend who has been close with him since they were both in diapers, but he doesn’t feel comfortable with their friends so he just kinda sits alone for the most part. he was picked up once by the emo artsy kids, but it didn’t really stick. he likes poetry class and does a metal working class because he can be alone with his headphones and thoughts™. in high school he’s just brooding without the mystery. tyril cringes at his youth. he’s too strong and iconic in his current age, so he had to be cringeworthy in his teen years. perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

imtura was 100% that cool, slightly edgy girl on the volleyball team. she was popular with the students and the teachers - like, this is the student that the school mentions is going places, and yet are also like,,,, “let’s try to guide you over here, imtura. you have such potential! don’t squander it!” and imtura hates nothing more than their incessant pleas for her to be the model student. she just wants to travel the world, maybe join a punk band, and get lost at sea. that’s not too much to ask, right? she’s also on the football team, and she’s team captain. she lives in sweatpants and workout clothes, and they actually really suit her? definitely crush material, this one. she’s probably also throws some killer weekend parties with mal’s input.

olinda was harder to place, but i imagine that she’s one of those hands on kids, taking woodworking, metal working, and auto mechanics classes. maybe she was on the soccer team, one year, but that didn’t really work out. she’s a team player and all, but she likes something with a little more purpose. she met tyril in metalworking, she met mal when helping with sets for the school play (he was annoying the theatre kids, as per usual), she met imtura in gym class because imtura picked her to be on her flag football team (which was a great choice, really), and she met nia when she went to the choir room, looking for kade. she’s not popular, per se, but people know her face and they think she’s pretty cool.

kade on the other hand, is 100% an artsy theatre kid. he’s not the super obnoxious theatre kid, and he’s not the snobby theatre kid either, he’s kind of like the older sibling theatre kid who’s infinitely cooler than you, incredibly talented, but also really down to earth and ready to create an elaborate inside joke with you over the course of the year. he has it all: the tragic backstory that adds flavor and depth to his writing, the kind personality that gets him friends wherever he goes, the amazing vocals that make him a shoe in for every performance..... but he often gets overlooked. why? it’s one of those injustices that just don’t make sense. he’s decently popular among the art nerds, and everyone wonders why he doesn’t get lead roles. a real ryan evans, if we want to go with a hsm reference.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

-- taglist: @musicallisto​, @missameliep​ // message me if you want to be added!

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 28/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Belle goes on her ride, has a bit of a revelation, and later Gold has one of his own. ;)

Notes: Takes place immediately after the previous chapter. Continue to enjoy the fluffy cuteness before I start drop angst bombs on things.

[AO3]

Belle waited until she was out of sight of Thornhill to bunch up her skirts and sling her leg over the saddle.

After a moment of adjustment, she settled the fabric and made certain her cloak covered her legs to the tops of her boots. Then she nudged Philippe into a canter, and let out a delighted laugh as the rush of air blew her hood back. The thick braid she’d used to constrain her hair flopped against her shoulder in rhythm with her horse’s hooves, loosening some of the strands on the sides of her head so that they blew against her cheeks as they rounded the corner of the road.

There was a gap in the line of trees, and she slowed Philippe back to a jog, directing him through it and onto the path that would take her around the eastern edge of the estate. It seemed to be a well traveled lane, but free of ruts from wagon wheels, unlike the main roads. She followed it into the trees, heading north along the far side of the property, marveling as she looked around at the snowy landscape. Patches of bold green and deep browns broke through here and there, and she could see open spots among the trees where in the spring there might be flowers or other plants. The edge of the path was littered with dead leaves and branches, but it was easy to imagine the thick growth that would narrow it come summer. There hadn’t been time to truly explore Thornhill and all its grounds, and while she knew the break in the weather wouldn’t hold for long, she looked forward to getting to know these woods and hills as well as she did the ones around Avonlea.

Philippe slowed to a walk, picking his way over the remains of a fallen tree, and Belle breathed deeply, drawing in the cold, crisp air, reveling in the calm and beauty of nature around her. There was a sharp crack to her left, and she held fast to the reins, keeping her horse steady as she looked in between the uneven rows of pines to spy a large stag. She pulled up and stopped Philippe, wanting to watch what the deer would do, and also wanting to make sure there was no one out hunting that she needed to worry about.

The deer dipped his head, rummaging along the ground for something, bulky antlers clipping against a few low branches. When he raised up again, he seemed to be looking straight at her, and Belle felt as though she could see, hear, and feel everything. She took a slow breath as she watched the animal look one way and then the other, catching the scent of wet earth and pine. A light breeze crept up the large sleeves of her cloak, raising goosebumps on her arms, as somewhere nearby a creek bubbled and rolled along.

The stag looked at her again, holding for a long moment, until he suddenly flinched and bounded off through the brush, disappearing into the shadowed depths of the trees. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and smiled widely as she leaned over Philippe’s neck, patting him gently for staying so still and calm. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she shook her head.

This was what it must feel like to be free, she thought.

She would have never had this with Gaston, nor if she had stayed in Avonlea, but here she did. She was making friends, and had people she cared about, Bae, Jefferson, Grace, and Cameron. She had a sense of purpose and a future where she would be in control of an estate and her life.

That was what her marriage had given her.

Feeling that if she dwelled on it too much, she might be overwhelmed, she nudged Philippe onward. A little further ahead the path split, with one track continuing north through the woods and the other cutting back west towards the house. Not knowing how much time had passed, but seeing that the sun was lower and the horizon was alight with an array of pink and orange, she chose to head back towards the house.

It curved up a slow sloping hill, giving a glimpse of a valley beyond the next line of trees. She wondered if it was the valley in which the village of Lamton sat, and smiled as she thought about riding Philippe there to visit everyone who had been at the solstice ball. It would be so nice to spend the long summer afternoons in the company of friends, and to see what little shops and markets the area had to offer.

Soon they came out of the woods onto a wider path covered with the same fine gravel as the front lane of Thornhill. In the distance she could see a small building set back from the lane, and, curious, she tugged Philippe in that direction. The building became a cottage as they drew closer, with a fence that ran around the front and one side, marking off what looked like a garden of some kind, though one plot was all tall, bare trees instead of the remains of winter vegetables.

“Hello there?” came a loud, gruff voice.

“Hello!” Belle called back.

She stopped on the path at the spot where a dirt walkway from the cottage door met the gravel. A short, stocky man came over from the side of the house where a large stump was set next to a wood pile.

“No one ever comes down here to visit me.”

“Leroy?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with her hand.

“Lady Gold,” he gasped, halting midway down the walkway to give her an awkward bow. He was holding an axe off to one side. “Forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.”

Belle shifted on the saddle until her right leg was pulled up and she was sitting properly again. “No need to be sorry. I hadn’t planned on interrupting your wood chopping.”

He shrugged and came closer. “I could use the break anyway, m’lady.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Please, call me Belle.”

Leroy gave her a small, crooked grin. “Then good afternoon, Belle.”

“Good afternoon,” she echoed. “Though not for much longer I’m afraid.”

He nodded. “Indeed. What are you doing out this way?”

“Oh, I just went for a little ride on my friend, Philippe.”

“Hello, Philippe.”

The horse whinnied and Belle laughed. “Do you live here, Leroy?’

“Yes, ma’am. This was the original farm house before the estate was built. When I started tending the gardens, Ms. Potts was always hollering at me for tracking mud and leaves into the house.”

Belle smiled. “That sounds like her.”

“Gold got tired of it, so now I live here.” She frowned, and it was Leroy’s turn to laugh. “It was my idea, actually. I told Ms. Potts that I couldn’t track mud on her floors if I didn’t walk on them.”

“Everyone’s happy then,” she replied., ginning. “And is that your garden?”

He beamed at her. “Yes ma’am. You should come see it in the summer. I have some apple trees that should finally be old enough to produce something this year.”

Her eyes went wide. “An orchard?”

“Hardly enough to call an orchard now,” he said. “But maybe someday.”

She smiled again, somewhat wistful for the rows of trees back in Avonlea. “I will definitely return, now that I know where you find you.”

“M’Lady.” He gave her another smile and a half bow. “Would you - could you tell your maid Astrid that I, um, send my regards?”

Belle bit her lip in amusement and nodded. “I certainly will. Good day, Leroy.”

He waved as she rode off, pushing Philippe back into a quick trot. The sun was nearly set, with only a dark pink glow to light the way, and she was anxious to be back at the house before it was completely gone. Fortunately, it took only a few minutes to see the wall of the gardens and Thornhill beyond it. A warm yellow light shone from the windows, and she smiled as Philippe made his way along the gravel path.

Having left Philippe in the stables, with promises to see him tomorrow and bring carrots, Belle entered the house through the front door. She left her cloak on the round table in the foyer along with her gloves, and headed straight upstairs to her room where Astrid was waiting.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” said Astrid, hurrying over to Belle’s side. “It kept getting darker and darker outside, and I was afraid you’d gotten lost.”

Belle waved a hand. “I am perfectly fine, and now I know my way around one of the trails. The woods are so beautiful here, so many pine trees, and I think there’s a little river not too far off.”

Astrid could hear the pleasure in Belle’s voice and smiled. “I’m glad you were with Philippe at least.”

Belle let out a happy sigh as she sat down on the bench at the end of her bed. “Yes. I’m so glad to have him here. I’ve missed riding.”

Astrid knelt down to help her take off her riding boots. “Well, I have everything ready for you to wash up and change before supper. I laid out your favorite blue dress.”

“Oh,” she said, looking towards the bedroom door, “um, just help me get these boots off so I can put my slippers on. I have something to do before I change.”

Astrid tugged the first boot off, falling back on her heels, and then looked up at Belle. “Oh, alright.”

Together they got the second boot off as well, and then Belle wiggled her feet into a pair of soft leather slippers. She usually wore them around her rooms in the evening after her bath, but she only needed a few minutes to find her husband.

Gold was in his study, a room which she had never been in before, and she hesitated before knocking, unsure if he would be annoyed at having his work interrupted. He called out a second later, and she pushed open the door.

“Belle.”

She smiled at the soft surprise in his voice. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Gold shook his head and pushed back from his desk. “No. Jefferson and Bae are usually the only ones who disturb me here.”

“Oh,” she said, stepping back into the doorway. “I can come back later if -”

He had already covered half the distance between them when he reached towards her. “No, no, come in, please. You are always welcome.”

“Even if I’m interrupting your work?”

He waved his hand. “Of course, nothing that can’t wait. How was your ride?”

Belle smiled widely. “It was wonderful!” She came towards him, and then took hold of his hand, raising it to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it as had become their habit. “Thank you, so much.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze and shook his head again. “You have already thanked me.”

Then she took both of his hands in hers, bringing them against her chest. “Then you must allow me to do it again.”

Gold chuckled. “As my lady wishes.”

Her eyes met his and held for a long moment before she pushed up on her toes and touched her lips to his cheek. It was brief and impulsive, she knew that, but she felt she could take the liberty as she tried to convey all that she had come to understand on her ride and all that she was grateful for.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her nose brushing his jaw as she dropped back on her heels.

He swallowed hard and freed one of his hands, reaching up to brush a few strands of loose hair back from her forehead. “You’re, um, you’re very welcome. I should have done it sooner.”

Belle gave him another smile. “You did it at just the right time, I think.”

His lips curved crookedly, the little lines at the corners of his eyes showing more prominently, and she felt - something. It was a contentment, perhaps, with her situation in life, and despite what was coming for them in the next week, there was a lightness as well.

She stepped back and let go of his hand, brushing her palms over her skirts. “I need to wash up before dinner,” she said. “I’ll see you later?”

He gave her a small bow, still smiling. “Of course.”

As she turned to go, she spied something odd in the corner to the left of the fireplace. She moved closer to it, and then looked back over her shoulder at her husband. “Is that - is that a spinning wheel?”

Gold’s face shifted into an expression she couldn’t place, and he nodded. “Yes.”

Belle bit her lip and looked back at the wheel. It was a dark wood with a horizontal brass flyer and bobbin, that was at least a quarter full, and a brass plate on the treadle. On the floor next to it was a woven basket of carded wool.

“Do you - spin?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” came Gold’s soft reply. “Sometimes. It - it helps me think.”

There was something about the machine that intrigued her. It was obviously well cared for and used, and kept in a place where few would see it, as everyone seemed to know not to bother the lord of the estate when he was in his study. Everyone except those who were closest to him. Did that include her now too, she wondered?

There were questions on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. “I, um, I’ll leave you be,” she managed, pulling herself away from the curiosity of the spinning wheel and towards the door. She looked back at him one last time to find him standing near the wheel, in a spot that would have been just behind her, his eyes fixed on it. It seemed she hadn’t noticed him coming closer. “Thank you again.”

Gold met her gaze and nodded. “It’s no matter.”

Belle put the spinning wheel out of her mind as she cleaned up and dressed for dinner, by delivering Leroy’s greeting to Astrid.

Astrid blushed furiously and couldn’t meet her eyes for fully five minutes, which amused Belle to no end. She had suspected at the ball, that Astrid and Leroy had established some sort of friendship, and that there might be more to it than either of them was letting on. Now she had evidence of it, and was delighted.

“So,” Belle said as she sat down on the stool at her vanity, “do you - like - Leroy?”

Astrid paused, hairpin hovering over the back of Belle’s head, and met her eyes in the mirror, pink faced and wide eyed. “I, um, I - I might, yes.”

Belle smiled at her. “He seems to like you.”

Another fierce blush made her wonder if her maid was going to turn completely red by the end of the evening.

“Yes, he - he does,” Astrid replied, slipping the pin into Belle’s hair and busying herself with combing out the curls beneath it. “But I - I’m not sure how much I - I like him yet.”

“I think it’s very sweet,” Belle offered, fighting to hold back the almost manic grin that wanted to break out on her face.

Astrid finding love would please her greatly. She wanted nothing but happiness for the person who had been her closest friend for so many years, who had seen her through the worst moments, and into what she hoped would be some of the best.

“Do - do you...like Lord Gold?” Astrid asked, setting the comb aside to reach for another pin.

Belle looked up and caught Astrid’s earnest gaze in the mirror. “Well, I - I suppose I do, but...it’s not -” She took a breath and turned on the stool to face Astrid. “It’s not the way you like Leroy.”

Astrid stopped, the hairpin dangling between her fingers, and gave Belle an odd look. “How are they different?”

Belle frowned.

“Forgive me,” Astrid continued, “I know you said that the two of you have an arrangement, and that it’s - it’s not perhaps a traditional marriage, but -”

She stopped and clamped her mouth shut, and Belle stood. She plucked the hairpin from Astrid’s hand and set it on the vanity before taking her friend’s hands in hers. “You know you must always say what you feel, Astrid. To me.”

Astrid worried her lip for a moment and then sighed. “I’m just - I’m confused because I - I can see how you are with each other - how Lord Gold respects you and - and how you sometimes hold hands, and today you hugged him in front of everyone and -and, well, it seems like the kind of arrangement I might want for myself.”

“I see. Thank you for being honest with me.”

Belle pondered Astrid’s words as they went about dressing her in her favorite blue dress. She hadn’t considered how it must look to others to see these interactions between her and her husband, how what was simply amiable sweetness between two friends could be viewed in another light by those who didn’t know the real reasons why they were married. It didn’t concern her so much what others felt about her relationship with Cameron, but what she might feel about it. There was a genuine fondness there when she thought of him, and a kind of quiet pleasure in the time they spent together, but there was something else as well, something that she wasn’t sure she understood yet. It wasn’t love; she was not so young and naïve as to conflate her feelings in that way, but it unsettled her that she couldn’t name it.

Perhaps it would resolve when they had faced their mutual enemies and returned from the palace. Perhaps it was nothing more than her nerves getting the better of her again. With a sigh, she thanked Astrid, and headed downstairs for dinner.

The fire snapped sharply, its glow the only light in the room.

Gold’s foot moved steadily, the loud crack from the hearth failing to make the gentle whir of the wheel falter even the slightest. He didn’t need much light for spinning, not after so many years. His good leg could still keep the pace for hours if needed, and the slip of the wool through his fingers told him whether it needed more or less tension easier than seeing the fiber it produced.

He hadn’t been prepared for Belle asking if he could spin. It was the only part of his past that he had held on to, and that made it special, even sacred in a way. No one who hadn’t lived part of it with him knew, and he worried that in telling her about it he might damage the happy companionship they had built in some way, that it might alter her good opinion of him.

There were other things, however, that would ruin the peace he had finally found for himself far more than telling his wife how he came to spin.

Sighing, he leaned over and picked up another clump of roving, twisting and feeding it into the strand that was already forming, keeping the wheel turning all the while. The muscle memory was something he never seemed to lose, so long as he didn’t think too hard about it. His body remembered the long nights, the cold of the tiny cottage, the winds that blew so hard they whooshed down the chimney and threatened to snuff out every bit of warmth and comfort.

Gold shivered and let his eyes drift to the fire, still going strong and in no danger of being blown out. The golden glow reminded him of how the dining hall had looked on the solstice, how it reflected off of the decorations, and made Belle’s dress shimmer as though it were made of magic.

His mind wandered easily back to that moment when she put her hand in his, when he led her out in front of everyone, and they danced around the room. Though he was nervous to attempt spinning her, her laughter had been the most delightful sound he’d ever heard, and it had the desired effect of bringing her out of her head and back into the moment. From there it had been relaxed and easy, as if they did this very often, as if holding her in his arms was a common occurrence.

You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.

He heard her breath catch at his words, and felt the slight shift in her body. She seemed on the verge of a reply, when the music ended, the horns softly fading as the last notes were played out on the violin. They stopped in nearly the same spot as they started, and the second her eyes met his he had the most ridiculous impulse. She let him do it, let him lean her back just a little, her back arching slightly against his arm, pressing her chest forward. He held her firmly, and sensed that she trusted he wouldn’t let her fall.

It was no more than a second, a blink, a crack of the fire that he held her, but he couldn’t breathe as he pulled her upright again. Her hand was still holding his, the other on his arm to steady herself, but the motion had pulled her close, almost against his body. She looked up, her eyes wide and bright and the most brilliant blue, and his mouth started to gape open. Her expression was soft but surprised, and he could feel a strange dizziness wash over him as though they were still twirling around the room. She blinked, and then her gaze darted down to his mouth. He raised their joined hands, nudging the edge of her chin until her eyes were looking into his again, and then he caught it - the slight shift, the light gasp, the tensing of her hand against his arm as if she were trying to pull him closer.

Her breath ghosted over his lips a second before he pressed them firmly to hers, and -

The fire popped and Gold’s hand jerked, yanking on the end of the wool and pulling it too thin. The strand of yarn snapped, whipping passed the wheel as its rhythm stuttered. The treadle under his foot squeaked as he released the pressure too quickly, and the yarn went flipping round and round over the bobbin, unraveling on the other side as it slowed.

He huffed and shook his head, startled by the direction his little reminiscence had taken. Tugging the frayed end back towards him, he held it between his fingers and glared at it before dropping it to the floor. The small clock on the mantle chimed, and he looked up to see it was well passed when he should have been asleep.

With another shake of his head, he pushed to his feet and moved over to the fireplace. A small bit of glowing ash lay on the edge of the hearth which he stamped out with the toe of his boot. After replacing the screen, and throwing one last glower at the wheel, he shuffled off to bed.

[averytinyelephant]

sing our love from the rooftops

Author’s note: This is my response for @tog-valentine-exchange! This response is for @jill-8-7 (who’s art is amazing, go check it out!!) and their artwork. I’m sorry for this being a little late, but hopefully the fic’s good enough to make up for it! My first go at a songfic, but I feel pretty good about how it turned out! Listen to Love Someone by Lukas Graham here. (Also, this can sortof (?) be read as a peek into (epilogue actually, haha) to my fic for Vih and Eevee’s Honey Lavender AU which... has turned out to be quite a monster, so apologies to both of you for taking so long to finish it! I really hope that it’ll blow you away once I’ve finished!!) Fandom: Tower of God (Read the Webtoon here!) Pairing: Khun Aguero Agnis/The Twenty-Fifth Baam Word Count: 2,633

Summary: Khun may be new to relationships, but he knows missing Valentine’s Day with his partner for work is a really shitty thing to do. So he’s planning on making up for it with a surprise that’s sure to sweep Baam right off his feet. Everything’s laid out perfectly, but Baam manages to beat him to the punch anyway.

Khun taps his foot impatiently and checks his watch. Half an hour to go, he thinks to himself. This damn meeting is dragging on like molasses, even though he’s already worked out an arrangement with Shibisu so he can get out of this one earlier.

It’s not that he doesn’t like his job: quite the opposite really, this business is something he’s poured years into building from the ground up. It’s quite simple, even if there are some days that are a little too reminiscent of a childhood he’d rather not think about, and much of it comes with practiced ease now.

No, it’s not that at all, it’s just that his whole life was turned upside down almost two years ago now by a certain man with the brightest golden eyes, and he finds himself looking forward to frivolous, overly sentimental things like Valentine’s Day despite himself. He knows that this meeting is important (there was a reason that he resorted to scheduling it today of all days, after all) and that he has a surprise planned out for his partner to make up for not being able to spend today with him.

Just half an hour more and I’ll be on my way to see him, Khun reasons, trying to force himself to pay attention to this meeting, when they’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

They enter briefly, and it’s a member of security, “Mr. Khun, I need to speak to you privately for just a minute.”

She tells him that someone’s requesting his presence from the ground floor, claiming to be his partner and that they’re incredibly persistent. Khun feels like his eyebrows might be touching his hairline right now and he’s about to dismiss her, that’s impossible, he wants to say, and it wouldn’t be a lie but she goes on to say, “He says his name is Jue Viole Grace.”

And that’s — Khun feels his world stop for a moment. This… this could be a real problem: he’d not even told his closest friends about Baam and had gone to great lengths to make sure their relationship remained private, something untouched by this messy life of constant competition, how could anyone know?

Despite the turmoil in his head, Khun manages to answer, “Thank you very much, though I’ll deal with this personally,” and walks back into the conference room to excuse himself briefly before making his way to the attached balcony. If he remembers right (which he always does), his car is parked on this side of the building and should be readily visible from this balcony. If the imposter wants his attention, he’d either be there or near his car, and there’s no harm in checking from here first, especially since they mostly likely wish him harm.

Peering over the balcony, Khun sees he was right, they’re just by his car and — he has no idea how he knows this, the figure’s much too small from all the way up here to see properly but it just clicks in his head with a terrifyingly overwhelming certainty that this is Baam, he’s staring right at the real thing, Baam’s right here looking up at him and waving excitedly, that’s impossible, how —

His phone’s ringing — no, Baam’s calling him. When he answers, he can’t even mask his shock when he asks, “Baam? How the hell—”

“Sorry to pull you out of work Khun!” he chirps back, not sounding the least bit sorry, “I wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day!”

What the fuck.

“But, Baam, you’re supposed to be — You told me you have a gig tonight at Endorsi’s place, it’d be crowded as all hell, and you flew across the country to see me?”

“Yup!” And Baam’s unpacking his guitar.

Wait. He’s unpacking his guitar.

“Are you crazy? You’re going to serenade me right here and now?”

“Oh, great, I was wondering how to explain this. It’s kinda awkward, y’know, I tried phrasing it a few different ways and none of them really clicked. I’m glad I don’t have to—”

“You can’t be serious, I swear, Baam, one of these days—”

“Put your headphones in! You’ll be able to hear me a little more clearly.”

Khun grumbles a bit to himself as he does, determined to express his indignation despite his shock, and Baam only laughs at him.

“Okay, they’re in. You’re so on, by the way.”

Baam just huffs and puts his phone in his pocket, and Khun doesn’t even need to look at his face to know he’s understood.

He waits patiently as Baam tunes the guitar and meets him with a challenging lilt to his voice as he asks, “Can you hear me okay?”

“Loud and clear.”

As Baam plays the first few notes, Khun can’t see his face from where he’s standing at the balcony’s edge, but he’s seen Baam play so many times he already knows how serenely focused his eyes are, the relaxed and confident set of his shoulders, the involuntary quirk of his lips as he loses himself in playing. He never gets tired of seeing it, and he wishes he could see it again right now. He thinks he’s already heard this song before, its opening is familiar but he can’t hope to place it right now, but he’s reminded again when Baam starts to sing that it doesn’t matter, this version — Baam’s voice, even tinny and distorted through the phone’s mic, a little muffled by the fabric of his shirt pocket — will be more beautiful than any original he’s heard.

There are days, I wake up and I pinch myself You're with me, not someone else

“Who else would there be but you?” He means it sarcastically, to poke fun at his choice of song in this game they’ve played for years now, but it comes out horribly dopey and fond instead and Khun suddenly feels his cheeks burn. Baam’s late for a chord for a fraction of a second anyway, so it’s not an entire failure.

And I’m scared, yeah, I'm still scared, that it's all a dream

“A damn good dream, I’d say,” Khun manages in the haughtiest tone he can muster at the moment and that gets Baam’s voice to crack a little with suppressed giggles, but his playing’s still flawless as always.

'Cause you still look perfect as days go by

“Please, that’s a given.”

Even the worst ones, you make me smile I'd stop the world if it gave us time

Khun’s about to say something snarky again despite how deeply the sentiment resonated with him, but the way Baam’s voice swells at the chorus tears away his pretense.

'Cause when you love someone, you open up your heart When you love someone, you make room If you love someone, and you're not afraid to lose 'em You’ve probably never loved someone like I do When you say You love the way I make you feel Everything becomes so real Don't be scared, no, don't be scared 'Cause you're all I need

(Privately, Khun admits defeat this time, because he doesn’t think he could muster a witty comment, a sufficiently steady voice, or even the will to compete right now despite all his pride.)

And you still look perfect as days go by Even the worst ones, you make me smile I'd stop the world if it gave us time 'Cause when you love someone, you open up your heart When you love someone, you make room If you love someone, and you're not afraid to lose 'em You’ve probably never loved someone like I do All my life I thought it'd be hard to find the one 'til I found you And I find it bittersweet 'Cause you gave me something to lose

Khun feels himself straighten before he registers commanding himself to do so, because that’s it — that’s what Baam’s trying to tell him. For a split second, he’s taken back two years and three hours before, a conversation asking about Baam how he chose songs to learn, a light voice on a hot desert breeze saying “there’s always one bit, a whole verse or a few words, one bit of the song that tells you plainly what they’re trying to say.”

He doesn’t know how he knows, there’s no evidence to suggest such, but Khun feels it like a punch to the solar plexus: this is that part. This is what Baam’s been trying to say, what he’s telling him now: It’s you, it’s you, it’s always been you. When we met the first time, my heart remembered the shape of yours from somewhere our eyes have never seen; we’ll never be favored by the stars but I’ll fight each day for us; everything beautiful reminds me of you because I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you more than I can ever show you in ten thousand lifetimes, so I’ll love you every day of this one and hope you understand.

But when you love someone, you open up your heart When you love someone, you make room If you love someone, and you're not afraid to lose 'em You’ve probably never loved someone like I do

When Baam finishes, he looks up at Khun, and he doesn’t even need to see his face to know he looks shy and sheepish like the reality of the situation’s finally hit him and Khun — Khun can hardly even speak. He’s certain he looks like a complete moron, gaping mouth and openly flabbergasted, but he can’t even bring himself to care. Before he knows it, his feet are carrying him away from the balcony and back into the still-busy conference room. He thinks Shibisu’s trying to speak with him and he’s distantly aware of Baam calling out to him in his headphones, and fuck, this is so fucking stupid, Khun’s never this impulsive —

He rushes out the door anyway, making a beeline for the elevator (he briefly considers the stairs when he passes by them on the way and has to focus to turn his brain on momentarily and think of how many damn stories there are in the building to decide against it) and slams the button for the ground floor. He can hardly stand still as it goes down, tapping his foot and checking his watch and oh, Baam’s disconnected the call, and his hands are shaking (absently, the rational part of his mind thinks it’s amusing how closely what he’s experiencing now resembles a panic attack) and fuck, this is still so goddamn stupid, and fucking finally, the elevator’s stopped at the ground floor. Before the doors even open all the way, he’s gone, sprinting through the front door and around the side of the building to where he parked this morning and he sees Baam, zipping up his guitar case and he looks ethereal now that he can see him up close —

“Aguero?”

And Khun feels the last of his sanity snap in two as he just grabs Baam by the collar and kisses him so hard he can feel the way Baam yelps in surprise in each of his teeth. His lungs are burning and his heart’s pounding in his throat, already winded from running so fast, but he still can’t bring himself to care.

Baam’s the one to break the kiss, breathy and concerned, “Aguero? What are you…?”

And damn, Khun realizes he has to give him answers.

Say something! “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Not that.

Baam looks more than a little offended. That’s… appropriate.

“Absolutely and totally impossible, I fucking hate you so, so much,” Khun knows he’s rambling nonsense, but Baam’s gotten him choked up and unable to even comprehend what he’s feeling right now, much less express it in words, so he just kisses him again and hopes he understands.

He breaks the kiss again (he doesn’t get it, obviously, because he’s not making any sense) and replies, “You’re telling me two very different things here, Aguero.”

Wait. What?

Khun forces his brain back online through sheer willpower and really, properly looks at Baam, and — this bastard’s smiling of all things right now, he looks like he’s about to burst out laughing any moment now. “You’re the worst. You know that?”

And he does burst out laughing, and it sounds like a million bells chiming in the most euphonious orchestra in the most irritating way possible. “I hate you so much — I have a ticket for a flight for LA in two hours and a rental car waiting for me, I made arrangements to work remotely for the next week to make up for today, I was going to — stop laughing at me!” He means it seriously, but he’s so giddy right now, he’s certain he’s grinning wide like a fool.

Baam exaggeratedly wipes tears from his eyes and wheezes out, “You scared me! I thought you were mad at me—”

“I am mad at you! You ruined my surprise!”

And Baam’s laughing again and Khun can’t figure out if he wants to kick him or kiss him again, but he redeems himself (just a bit) when he says, “I’m sorry! I’ll help you get a refund on that plane ticket if you want.”

“That’s not what I care about here, Baam!” That only makes Baam laugh harder, and okay, Khun has to admit, this entire situation is frankly ridiculous, and he starts laughing with him before he can catch himself.

After a few moments, Khun manages to collect himself enough to retort, “I’m definitely doing something else to make up for it.”

Baam looks at him curiously as Khun pulls his keys from his pocket with a flourish. “You mean right now?” he asks incredulously, “But what about your —”

And, well. Khun’s definitely not about to admit Baam made him forget about work entirely. But he’s saved from having to think of a decent cover because as if on cue, Khun’s phone starts ringing with a call from Shibisu.

“Khun? What the hell’s going on, you just disappeared, is that —”

“Shibisu, wait, listen.” At this point, Khun knows Shibisu well enough to know that if he doesn’t cut him off now, he’ll never stop asking questions. “I need you to manage the rest of it. You’ll be fine, it’s just a little earlier from when I had to take off anyway—”

“Yeah, I know, but, Khun, what’s actually going on? Don’t tell me—”

Khun just looks Baam in the eye and winks at him when he answers, “I’ve got something a lot more important to tend to.” Baam flushes bright red but beams at him anyway and Khun barely tamps down the urge to coo at how cute his partner is.

The other line’s silent, but it seems like Shibisu gets it because he sighs, dramatic and long-suffering, before muttering, “I really should’ve taken Hatz up on that bet, he’d owe me money right now.” Khun’s grips the phone a little tighter in irritation, but he makes a note to reward him somehow for not taking the bet before Shibisu continues. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it. But you owe me the presentation in two weeks and one hell of an explanation.”

Khun doesn’t even think before he answers, “Deal.” He still hates cashing out his end of a bargain first, being indebted to someone rather than having others owe him, but when Baam beams at him as he pockets his phone again, Khun thinks it’s really not all that bad.

“Come on, lover boy,” Khun teases as he spins his keys once and unlocks his car, “you showed me LA last time, it’s your turn to see New York City.”