#dee piping systems

[deepiping]

Sectors Covered by DEE Piping Systems

Piping solutions find extensive applications in various industries. From fertilizer manufacturing plants to marine projects, from petrochemical refineries to oil and gas units, these pipelines form the foundation of all operations. Here is a list of industries that find DEE’s piping solutions extremely useful for critical and sensitive environments as well.

Oil And Gas

Oil and gas piping is one of the most critical piping solutions that undergo several hazards. Much like Power plant piping, these piping solutions also need to withstand high levels of pressure, heat, and friction.

When highly viscous crude petroleum travels through the pipelines of oil and gas plants, the friction it creates remains one of the challenges to the piping system’s structural stability. Additionally, petroleum or gas corrodes the pipe surface. Therefore, DEE manufactures suitable piping solutions for power plants and oil and gas units using ASMEB31. 1 or ASMEB31.3 grades as approved by IBR. Carbon steel, alloy steel, and Stainless steel remain the three most widely used materials for manufacturing critical piping.

Refineries And Petrochemicals

The refinery and petrochemical piping solutions also require pipelines capable of handling high-

pressure and high-heat conditions. Therefore, DEE uses only the best quality alloy steel or carbon steel material of appropriate grade (ASMEB31. 3) for these solutions. Process or jacketed piping remains the most widely chosen piping solution design for these industries. High temperature and high-pressure piping associated with CDU, VDU, DCU, HCU, SRU, PFCC, FCCU, CRU, VGO, DHT, DHDS, MS Block etc. are an essential product feature at DEE.

Bio Refineries

Bio Refineries are places where biomass gets transformed into energy and other useful products. To support sustainability campaigns and to promote balanced industrial development without harming the surroundings, these plants play a critical role. Process Piping in the various grades of Carbon Steel, Alloy Steel, Stainless Steel & Exotic Material with diameter up to 100” (2540 mm) and thickness up to 150 mm. are DEE Piping system forte.

Bio-refineries piping also needs to be corrosion-resistant and heat withstanding. DEE makes sure that every piping solution installed in biorefineries features accurate bends and the best materials so that the process could run smoothly.

Fertilizers And Chemicals

The fertilizer and chemical piping is another variety of piping solution that requires additional attention. Fertilizers are essentially chemicals carrying several elements of varying degrees of Reactivity. Therefore, when these fertilizers pass through a certain pipeline for years, corrosion does take place.

However, replacing these pipes frequently or repairing them every year could be an excessively

expensive endeavor. DEE manufactures the best quality piping solutions that meet the special requirements of fertilizer and chemical manufacturing plants.

Marine and Offshore

Marine and offshore projects also use a lot of marine and offshore piping solutions. DEE keeps the quality standards of these piping solutions in mind while manufacturing them. From maintaining strict quality control to using industry-approved material grades for making these pipelines, DEE’s piping solutions remain the perfect choice for sensitive applications like these.

Subsea Projects

When it comes to subsea piping, the pipelines remain submerged in seawater for years. Saline water exposure may corrode the pipeline surface faster making it weaker and unusable over time. Therefore, DEE manufactures premium quality piping solutions that can withstand extreme

conditions without succumbing to corrosion.

DEE Piping Systems is a renowned name in the field of industrial piping manufacturing and supply, holding a vast global experience in the field for the past 4 decades. Check the exhaustive collection online, including customizable options. You will always find something up to your requirement and budget there.

[dandylovesturtles]

I'm trying to get myself back into writing by doing some little things here and there. This is the first one that is actually worth it to post here lol

Awhile back I asked on discord for suggestions of things I could write and then for a long time I didn't actually do anything lol BUT I finally did something. This ficlet is based on a suggestion @abbeyofcyn gave me about Donnie feeling anxiety over a having a new home post S2 (at least I remember it being Cyn but the message is so old now I can't find it orz I'm sorry if it was someone else)

I hope you enjoy it!

---

The subway station has been closed to the public since the nineties. Most of the ways in are already blocked off, and it will be trivial to finish that work to keep out any intruders. The tracks and maintenance station make an ideal garage and workspace for the tank. The old electrical wiring and water pipes are easily accessible. There’s still functioning toilets in the old bathrooms, and ventilated spaces ideal for cooking. There’s easy access to the street, the rest of the subway system, and the sewers. Splinter hums approvingly as he circles an old staff area with a tape measure. His brothers shout as they call dibs on rusted out train cars. April enthusiastically notes that the station is close to her new campus.

It checks all the boxes on their list, and then some.

So why has the sick feeling in the pit of Donnie’s stomach gotten worse instead of better?

There must be something wrong with it. Some flaw they aren’t seeing, some con they haven’t considered. He needs to go over his lists again; double check and triple check from every angle. They’ve only been here an hour - it would just be irresponsible to make a decision so quickly!

He desperately fires up his tablet again and pulls up his list, scrolling with hard taps as his eyes fly over the compiled criteria. There must be something… Something!

It’s structurally sound. There’s ample space for skateboard ramps and arcade machines. There’s plenty of lighting that will only need simple maintenance to be functional. There’s a big space that can be used for a new lab. It checks all the boxes, but there must be at least one it’s not checking, or why would Donnie’s blood curdle at the thought of actually living here?

The way the air moves through the space is wrong. The way the sounds echo off the walls and floors is unfamiliar. The smell is not the one he spent his whole life inhaling. It’s all wrong in a way that embeds itself in Donnie’s very skin, leaves him feeling slimy and nauseous and off kilter, like everything was just tilted at a dutch angle.

He scrolls to the bottom of the list and taps a few more times to be sure. “Air feels right” and “Echoes are normal” and “Smell is bad” are not boxes to be checked, so it can’t be any of those things. It has to be something else… It has to be something!

He scrolls back to the top of his list. Then he scrolls back to the bottom. He can’t find it. But it has to be there.

“Whoa,” says Leo, and Donnie jolts, his head snapping up. “I’ve never seen Donnie look like he wants to murder a computer before.”

“Please don’t tell Raph that something’s wrong with the structural checks or whatever,” says Raph, just behind Leo. They’re all coming up to him, probably wondering why he’s been standing in the same spot for… 

Donnie glances at his screen and jolts again. Twenty four minutes and thirty seven second!?

“Come on, Dee, this place has got to be perfect,” says Leo. “I already know exactly where I’m putting my action figures in my new digs!”

“And I’m already getting sooo many ideas for graffiti!” says Mikey excitedly, bouncing in place where he stands next to April. “And I can’t wait to design the kitchen layout! I can’t believe I get to start from scratch and do it just how I want!”

“Raph already knows exactly where the dojo is goin’,” Raph joins in. When Leo blows a raspberry, Raph pushes him forward and smirks when he has to catch himself.

“I think this is the best you guys are gonna get,” says April. “Unless you wanna move to the Hidden City.”

“We can’t, Raph still has a warrant for his arrest.”

“I keep tellin’ you guys, that ain’t Raph!”

“I only wish I had known about this place earlier,” comes Splinter’s voice as he joins them. “So much square footage!”

They all start talking excitedly, so fast it blends into a whir in Donnie’s ears. They’ve all already decided, but don’t they see? They can’t live here, because it’s wrong!

“No.”

Donnie’s declaration kills the conversation in its tracks. Everyone stops to look at him, and the sudden attention doesn’t feel as good as it might otherwise.

“No,” he repeats, shaking his head and looking back at his list. “This won’t work.”

A chorus of “What!?” comes from everyone else. Donnie keeps his eyes on his list, scrolling frantically, looking for the problem that he knows is there.

“Is there something wrong with it?” asks April, tone measured.

“Yes,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t know what it is yet and how can he answer if he doesn’t have any data?

It’s clear they aren’t going to wait for him to come up with the answer.

“Well what is it? Ventilation? Structural integrity? The wiring? Come on, Dee, give us somethin’.”

“It’s… it’s just wrong. I know it is.” Donnie looks up from his list then, and their skeptical expressions make him coil around his tablet in defense. “We’ve barely seen all of it! How can we know for certain that it will really suit our needs?”

He’s protesting too much, and it’s no surprise when Leo catches on, immediately narrowing his eyes as he hones in on Donnie’s uncertainty. 

“You’ve said no to every place we’ve looked at, dude! Are your standards that high, or do you just like living in Barry’s crappy apartment that much?”

“I obviously do not,” Donnie snaps, because he has made no secret of the fact that he hates it there. Sure, it was nice of Draxum to take them in now that they’re homeless and all that, but the apartment is too small, and the sheets are too scratchy, and the way the air conditioner sounds is all wrong, and the street noises bother Donnie at night…

Of course he doesn’t want to keep living there! He never wanted to live there in the first place!

“Then what’s the problem?” Leo asks, folding his arms, and Donnie scowls back.

“I just think we shouldn’t rush into such a big decision just because it sucks to live in Draxum’s apartment,” he reasons, reasonably because he’s being very reasonable!

“And what, wait for our realtor to find us a few more listings?” Leo says with heavy snark. 

“Leo,” says Raph with a warning tone, before looking back at Donnie. “Look, we can take tonight to think about it,” he suggests. “But if there’s nothing really wrong with it, I think this is gonna be the best we can do.”

Donnie shrinks back. “You say we’ll take tonight to think about it, but you’ve all already decided.” He shakes his head. “But I’m telling you, we can’t live here. It’s wrong.”

“Donnie…” Mikey’s hand touches Donnie’s elbow, and it takes everything in him not to jerk it away. “Is there an actual problem with the place, or is this a feelings problem?”

Donnie jerks away.

Then he turns and sprints away down the nearest subway tunnel.

…

He only makes it to the next condemned platform before he collapses against the wall, panting. Maybe he really should take up Raph’s advice to do more cardio… If he can ever face any of them again, that is.

He sinks to the ground and rests his chin on his knees, looking around at the unfamiliar scenery. He knew the old tunnels of his home like he knew the curves and grooves in his favorite wrench. But his favorite wrench is lost forever under an insurmountable amount of rubble, and the tunnels around him are foreign and imposing.

He doesn’t want to live in Draxum’s apartment anymore.

But he doesn’t want to live here.

He wants to go home.

The ugly, bitter feeling in his stomach twists again, and he groans and presses his face into his knees, covering his head with his arms. He knows exactly what would fix this, and it’s something he can’t have.

He did the tests himself, over and over again. He knows that their old home would take years, decades to make livable again. They simply can’t fix it. It’s too big to be fixed.

Which means he cannot be fixed.

The understanding that he’ll feel this way forever washes over Donnie, leaving him desolated. How is he ever supposed to function again?

How can the rest of his family move on so easily when he’s still like this?

Footsteps echo off the walls, and he tenses up, curling tighter into himself. It’s no surprise that one of them came after him. He’s just glad it’s only one set of footsteps, and not five.

He doesn’t look up as they draw close. He doesn’t have to. A barefooted tread, light and airy with a bit of a hop to it even when the mood is somber. He’d know it anywhere.

Mikey plops down next to him and says, “Ready to talk to Doctor Feelings?”

Donnie shakes his head without looking up.

Mikey hums. “Wanna talk to Doctor Delicate Touch?”

Donnie shakes his head harder.

There’s a shuffle, and then warmth against Donnie’s side. “Wanna talk to your favorite little brother in the whole wide world?”

Donnie finally lifts his head enough to look at Mikey with one eye. “Winning by default isn’t something to brag about,” he notes.

A huge grin crosses Mikey’s face. “Hey, there you are!”

“Here I am,” Donnie notes dryly, and it sounds miserable even to his own ears.

Mikey’s expression falls into something more soft. He scoots around to Donnie’s front, then says, “You’re homesick.”

Homesick feels too small for the dark feelings that are swallowing Donnie whole. It’s just not enough.

“...I don’t want to live somewhere new,” he says, and it sounds like, I don’t want everything to be different.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” says Mikey, even though Donnie knows he can’t be feeling it like this, or at least hopes his little brother isn’t. “You’ll get used to it, though!”

It almost makes Donnie laugh. He can’t begin to imagine it ever feeling anything but terrible. “How do you know?”

“Because I have experience,” says Mikey breezily, like it’s obvious. 

Donnie hopes the skepticism shows on his face. “Really? Micheal, we were both too young when Papa moved us to the lair.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember that. But I do remember when we all got our own rooms!”

Donnie considers that with some surprise. He vaguely remembers that… mostly because he was happy that Raph and Leo couldn’t put their stuff on his side anymore. “Ah yes. A joyous day for all of us.”

“Well it wasn’t too happy for me!” Mikey retorts, folding his arms. “I didn’t want any of us to get our own rooms. I… wasn’t ready to be without you guys.”

Actually, now that Mikey says that, Donnie does remember that part of it. “I also remember that you weren’t without us, because you slept in one of our rooms every night for two months.”

Mikey nods seriously. “Yeah! Because I wasn’t ready for change!”

“And we had to make a rotating chart so that each of us could get a full night of sleep once in a while.”

“Huh?” Mikey pouts. “What do you mean? I sleep like an angel!”

“Kicking and chewing on anything in grabbing distance seems more like demon behavior,” Donnie notes, and Mikey huffs and makes a big show of being offended. 

“The point, Donald,” he stresses, “is that it was a big change! And I wasn’t happy about it for a loooong time.” He leans back. “I didn’t get why you guys were so happy about moving out when I wasn’t. It felt like you were all leaving me behind.”

Donnie frowns. “But we were literally a few feet away,” he notes. “As you proved nightly.”

Mikey points at him excitedly. “Exactly! It was a big change, but I still had you guys. And eventually, you guys helped me get excited about it, too.”

Donnie tries to remember what exactly they did to accomplish that, but… “All I remember is that we helped you hang up your finger paintings and put glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling.”

“Yep!” Mikey nods sagely. “You helped make it my own. I got where I was excited to be in my room, because it was how I wanted it to be!” He falters, tapping his chin. “And also I remember Leo said something about all my toys being sad if they were alone in my room at night…”

“Ah. Manipulative tactics,” Donnie observes.

“But that’s not the point! The point is that when I made it my own, change wasn’t so scary anymore.” He waves back down the tunnel. “And that’s what’s going to work for you, too! Because you’re going to build yourself a big new lab and decorate your room just how you want it, and you’re going to love it!”

Donnie feels absolutely no confidence in that. The idea of building a new lab, of decorating his room, of getting used to the new space, doesn’t fill him with excitement. There is only dread there, and exhaustion, and an insurmountable realization that nothing is ever going to be the same as it was before.

“That might work for you,” he says softly, tiredly. “But I don’t think it will for me. I don’t think I will ever stop feeling…” 

He still doesn’t know what to call this. 

“...Homesick.”

“But you will,” says Mikey, putting a hand on his arm. This time, Donnie doesn’t jerk away. “You know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because you went through it with the rooms too, Dee.”

Donnie scoffs, shaking his head. “I was glad to have my own room,” he asserts. “The rest of you kept getting your things into my space. It was annoying.”

“Sure, maybe you were happy about that part,” says Mikey simply, “but do you remember the big storm? The first one after we moved into our rooms, that was sooo loud we could hear it?”

Again, Donnie thinks he vaguely recalls something like that. It clearly didn’t leave as large an impression on him as it did on Mikey, though.

“I… might,” he says.

“I remember,” says Mikey, “that I was so scared, I ran straight to Raph’s room! And he was already awake, and he was under the covers, and we made a tent together.” He giggles. “And then you came in, and then Leo! And I realized then, maybe you guys weren’t really as happy about sleeping in separate rooms as I thought.”

He shifts around again, pressing himself into Donnie’s side.

“We went through that all together. And we’re gonna go through this together, too. And that’s how I know it’ll be okay!”

Donnie can’t help but make a skeptical noise. He’s not sure it will be. It just feels like too much.

“We’re all homesick, too,” Mikey confides. “We show it different than you… But we are. We’re going through it with you.”

Donnie knows they miss home, too. He knows that. But still…

“What if you’re wrong,” he says, “and it’s not okay?”

“Then…” Mikey trails off, thinking. “Then I’ll use the money I saved up to buy you that limited edition Atomic Lass figure you wanted!”

Donnie twists his head to stare at him. “That figure currently values at eight hundred and fifty dollars,” he says.

Mikey grimaces. “I will give you all the money I have saved up to help you buy it!” he amends.

Donnie snorts. Then he laughs. Then he leans into the warmth of his little brother.

He doesn’t want to live somewhere new… but it won’t be entirely new. His family will still be there. Just a few steps away.

“Does the laughing mean you’ll come back with me?” asks Mikey. “Because this tunnel is cold.”

Donnie snorts again. “I will go back with you,” he agrees, “because I actually don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Yes! I did it!” Mikey hops to his feet, extending a hand. “Another W for Doctor Feelings!”

“Winning by default is nothing to brag about,” says Donnie again. But he takes Mikey’s hand, and they go back to the station together.

[fatmaclover]

okay. i said i was gonna do it. may as well get it out of the way on the appropriate day

some weed headcanons for the gang.

i dont think dennis is a fan of pipes and bongs. he prefers joints, or just straight up edibles. pipes and bongs require so much maintenance, and he already smokes tobacco, i dont think this is much of a stretch. best joint roller of the group but he takes forever to do it because he focuses on making it perfect

mac, on the other hand, is a massive fan of bongs. he definitely names them n everything. hes got a couple funny pipes too, some themed ones (hes definitely got a pipe thats themed around the eagles and a usa flag pipe. at least. hes definitely got more). he gets really into the grinding and packing process. cant roll a joint to save his life

dee prefers joints and pipes. i think she tried a volcano once and has begged frank for one every day of her life since. i can see her being a fan of infused drinks, too. she is a woman on the go who needs to put em back after all. she would also probably be big on vapes, she'd be convinced theyre better for her than smoking straight green

frank has giant fucked up bongs and just about every niche/bizarre way of getting weed into your system that you can think of. he doesnt let dee touch the volcano. hes got those 750mg edibles and goes through one of those containers in like a week. hes the best at actually getting joints rolled in any reasonable amount of time

joyce doesnt really get high off weed with frank much i dont think. all the crazy wild shit is fun but not really the experience she goes for. shes good just passing a bong or pipe or joint back and forth between herself and her friends. i feel like she'd be one of those people who puts a lot of emphasis on the experience of smoking weed with people. she can do any ol drug to get high but passing a bong back and forth with your best friend is pretty hard to replicate. this is also because thats how she does smoke breaks with dee

lastly, mac, dee, and frank prefer sativa while dennis and joyce prefer indica. hybrids become a grey area for a lot of them but i dont think their preferences mean they dislike the high of the other. i just imagine theyd each do best with what i said

happy 4/20. peace and love on planet earth

[possiblyunhinged]

I really struggle with the idea that any criticism of Dee Devlin is automatically misogynistic. Funny how this grace always seems to be reserved exclusively for white women. White feminism stays undefeated at using “feminism” as a shield to dodge valid criticism.

And let’s be real, as a white woman myself, we have a history—and a present—of throwing people under the bus to preserve our own comfort and privilege. Case in point: Taylor Swift. Silent on Palestinian women, loud as hell when it’s about jokes on a skit comedy show. The priorities are... something else.

I guess it’s no surprise that actual feminist activists get buried under cutesy graphics shouting “Live Deliciously.” Like, excuse me ma’am, but there’s a cost of living crisis and multiple genocides happening—over 100 women have killed themselves in Sudan to avoid sexual violence in the conflict. Maybe pipe the fuck down with the slogans about embracing pink and dancing in your pants as the solution to patriarchy. Or better yet, stop pretending it goes any deeper than self-posturing for white, middle-class women.

And then there’s Conor McGregor. A vile man flourishing in a system that rewards evil, because accountability is practically extinct. £200,000 means nothing to a guy like him. Why would he care? He’s living his best “poundland gangster” life, fueled by cocaine and the knowledge that the mother of his children doesn’t seem to care either. It’s the perfect setup for unchecked awfulness.

Maybe I’m just angry—angry at how women’s safety is sacrificed for this charade of justice, angry at how predators thrive while their enablers look the other way. But I hate every single person who supports rapists. Every. Single. One.

[singhalindustriespvtltd1]

Choosing the Right Depth for Installing Underground Warning Tape

When it comes to ensuring the safety of underground utilities, installing underground warning tape correctly is essential. The depth at which the tape is placed plays a crucial role in its effectiveness as a safeguard against accidental digging or excavation that could damage critical infrastructure, such as electrical cables, gas lines, or pipelines. Understanding the correct depth for installing warning tape for underground cable is essential to protect not only the utilities but also the workers and the surrounding environment.

Importance of Warning Tape for Underground

Underground warning tape is a bright, non-adhesive material often made of polyethylene or other durable materials designed to alert excavators to the presence of utilities below. It serves as a visual signal during excavation that they are nearing a hazardous area containing cables or pipes. The Warning tape for underground cable typically includes a printed message such as "Caution: Buried Electric Line Below" or "Warning: Gas Line Below," which provides immediate identification of the utility type and alerts workers to proceed with caution.

This simple yet highly effective safety measure prevents accidental damage to vital systems. However, its effectiveness depends significantly on the depth at which it is installed. If it is too shallow, the tape can be disturbed or eroded over time by natural soil movements or human activities like gardening. Conversely, if placed too deep, it may not serve as an early warning, as excavators could reach utility lines before encountering the tape.

Recommended Depth for Installing Underground Tape

The recommended depth for installing underground warning tape depends largely on the type of utility it is protecting. Underground warning tape manufacturers generally provide guidelines on depth based on the utility’s specific needs. However, certain universal principles can be applied across most situations.

For most utilities, warning tape is installed between 12 to 18 inches below the surface, directly above the utility line. This ensures that the tape is encountered before the actual cable or pipeline, giving workers enough warning to stop excavation and take appropriate precautions. For deeper utilities, such as water mains or gas pipelines, the warning tape may need to be installed as deep as 24 inches to maintain its effectiveness.

Local regulations may also dictate the required depth for installation. Some regions may require the tape to be laid at a specific depth to comply with legal safety standards. Additionally, factors such as the type of soil, climate conditions, and the potential for erosion or landscaping should also be considered when deciding the installation depth. Following these guidelines will help ensure the tape provides adequate protection without risking premature exposure or failure.

Factors That Affect Depth of Underground Warning Tape

Several factors can affect the depth at which underground warning tape is installed, making it crucial to assess each situation individually. These factors include:

Type of Utility: The type of utility being protected will significantly impact the required depth. Electrical cables, telecommunications lines, and gas pipelines all have different safety requirements that must be adhered to during installation.

Soil Composition: The texture and composition of the soil can influence how deep the tape should be placed. In areas with loose or sandy soil, deeper installation may be necessary to prevent erosion from exposing the tape over time. Conversely, in hard or compacted soils, the tape may be installed at a shallower depth.

Climate and Environmental Conditions: In regions that experience freezing and thawing cycles, soil movement can disturb underground materials, making it essential to install warning tape deeper to ensure it remains in place. Wet conditions or areas prone to flooding may also require deeper installation to prevent the tape from being washed away or degraded by moisture.

Landscaping and Future Excavation Risks: In areas where future landscaping or construction projects are likely, it may be wise to install the tape at a depth that considers potential future disturbances. This ensures that the warning tape remains effective even after the terrain changes.

The Role of Manufacturers in Safety

Underground warning tape manufacturers play a vital role in ensuring the safety of utility lines. They are responsible for creating high-quality, durable warning tapes that can withstand various environmental conditions without deteriorating over time. These manufacturers often offer tapes in different colors and with custom printed messages that conform to industry standards for each type of utility.

In addition to the tape itself, some Underground warning tape manufacturers offer consultation services to guide contractors and utility companies in choosing the right materials and installation depths for their specific projects. They may also provide installation best practices to ensure compliance with local regulations and safety standards.

By providing reliable products and services, underground warning tape manufacturers are critical partners in safeguarding infrastructure and preventing accidents that could lead to service disruptions, costly repairs, or even loss of life.

Warning Mats in Pipeline Protection

In addition to underground warning tape, warning mats are often used in pipeline protection to enhance safety further. Warning mats are typically thicker and more durable than warning tapes, providing an added layer of protection against accidental damage. They are placed directly over pipelines to serve as a robust barrier that is not only visible but also provides physical resistance against heavy machinery that might attempt to dig too close to a pipeline.

Warning mats are particularly useful in protecting high-risk utilities, such as gas pipelines, where the consequences of accidental damage can be catastrophic. These mats are designed to absorb impacts and prevent direct contact with the utility, making them an effective measure in areas where heavy construction or excavation equipment is frequently used. Like warning tape, the installation depth of a warning mat in a pipeline system must be carefully considered to ensure maximum protection while remaining practical for excavation projects.

Ensuring Compliance with Local Regulations

When determining the correct depth for installing underground warning tape, it is essential to consider local laws and regulations. Different jurisdictions may have specific requirements based on the type of utility, the expected depth of the utility, and safety considerations unique to the area. Utility companies, contractors, and other professionals must remain in compliance with these regulations to avoid fines, penalties, or worse, dangerous situations that could arise from improper installation.

Consulting with local authorities or underground warning tape manufacturers is highly recommended to ensure compliance. Additionally, referring to guidelines from organizations like OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) or other relevant agencies can provide further insight into best practices for safe installation.

Conclusion

Choosing the correct depth for installing underground Warning mat in pipeline is not a one-size-fits-all solution. It requires a careful assessment of the type of utility, soil conditions, environmental factors, and regulatory requirements. Installing the tape too shallow could result in early exposure and a loss of effectiveness, while placing it too deep may lead to utility lines being damaged before any warning is detected.

By understanding the nuances of depth installation and working closely with underground warning tape manufacturers, contractors and utility workers can ensure that they create a safer, more reliable underground system. Taking the time to assess the needs of each project thoroughly will lead to long-lasting results, protecting both underground utilities and those working near them.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Why is warning tape necessary for underground utilities? Warning tape serves as a visual marker to alert excavators and prevent accidental damage to buried utilities such as cables, pipelines, and gas lines, thereby reducing the risk of costly repairs and hazardous situations.

What is the difference between warning tape and warning mats? Warning tape is a thin, brightly colored material placed above utilities as a visual warning, while warning mats are thicker, more durable barriers that protect pipelines from mechanical strikes during excavation.

Can underground warning tape be detected by metal detectors? Yes, some underground warning tapes are designed with detectable materials, such as embedded metal strips, making it possible for them to be detected by metal detectors before excavation begins.

[elitewealth2020]

https://elitewealth.in/dee-development-engineers-limited-ipo-dee-piping-systems-ipo-details-issue-price-date-news-allotment-status-gmp-link-updates/

If you are looking for Invest DEE Development Engineers Limited IPO :then first to all Open a demat Trading Account & Elite Wealth limited Provide Free Open Online Demat Account minimum Document required. We are provide many benefits Low Brokerage, Free Research Recommendation and Life Time Free* AMC, Call n Trade facility. With the best stock brokers, you may open your demat account quickly and easily. If you more information visit a website: https://elitewealth.in/dee-development-engineers-limited-ipo-dee-piping-systems-ipo-details-issue-price-date-news-allotment-status-gmp-link-updates/

[esgdatainrate]

Piping System and Piping Spools In-Depth Profiling With Key Players and Recent Developments, Forecast Period: 2021-2031

The global piping system and piping spools market size was valued at $4,832.5 million in 2019, and is expected to reach $6,035.0 million by 2027, registering a CAGR of 4.5% from 2020 to 2027. Pipe spool is a fabricated component of a piping system. Pipe spools is a piping system in which a number of raw pipes and pipe fittings (elbows, flanges, and others) are fabricated in fabrication shops or on-site. Roll correction and welding, and durable position fitting and welding, are the two processes used in pipe spooling. Piping spools are generally used in power plants, chemical industries, and oil & gas industries.

Steel pipes, alloy steel, or carbon steel is the material used for pipe spooling. The factors such as growth in exploration and drilling activities for oil around the globe is anticipated to drive the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. For instance, exploration drilling activities increased by nearly 30% from 2017 to 2018. Many oil companies and governments are focusing on new exploration and drilling activities for oil & gas to gain a competitive edge over the other players and fulfil the growing oil demand around the world. For instance, in November 2018, PetroChina, a China-based oil & gas company aimed to raise the oil output in 2021 in Northwestern Xinjiang region. The site is a newly discovered oilfield. However, the fluctuation in raw material prices required for piping spools is anticipated to hamper the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. On the other hand, technological advancement in the piping spools industry is anticipated to provide lucrative opportunities for the market players in the piping spools industry. Moreover, increase in government investment in oil & gas refinery project is projected to cater to the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. For instance, in August 2020, German government invested around $100.8 million on hydrogen project at oil refinery project in Hamburg.

The COVID-19 pandemic has forced many companies in the global piping system and piping spools market to halt their business operations to comply with new government regulations for curbing the spread of COVID-19. This halt in operations directly impacts the revenue flow of the global piping system and piping spools market. In addition, there is a halt in providing raw material to the manufacturers of piping system and piping spools products. However, the demand for piping spools for oil & gas project and chemical projects is expected to increase in the near-term. Hence, halt in manufacturing activities and lockdowns for several months have affected the global piping system and piping spools market, with slow recovery is anticipated during 2021. This is further projected to the re-opening of piping system and piping spools industry at their full-scale capacities, which in turn, would aid the market to recover by the start of 2022.

Competition Analysis

Key companies profiled in the report include Dee Piping System, Metal Forge India, Prosaic Steel and Alloys, U.S. Pipe, Cogbill Construction LLC, ChelPipe Group, CCI Leidingsystemen B.V., Yena Engineering B.V., Cimtas Pipe Fabrication and Trading Co Ltd, Arabian International Co for Steel Structure (AIC), Sung IL Sim Co. Ltd., Seonghwa Industrial Co. Ltd., and Larsen & Toubro Limited.

Full Report With TOC:-https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/piping-system-and-piping-spools-market-A07964

[deepiping1]

DEE was incorporated as a modest consultancy firm in the year 1983. The hard-work and commitment of 33 years & 500+ employees made it what it is, a brand name recognized across the world for its quality and client promise, DEE piping systems.

[vsonker]

DEE piping systems Mass Recruitment of "DET" for our plant/site located at Gujarat,

DEE piping systems is an ISO certified oil & gas pipe, heavy metal fabrication and skid manufacturing company. DEE Piping Systems (DEE), incorporated as DEE Development Engineers Limited was founded by Chairman & Managing Director Mr. K.L. Bansal along with a team of two technocrats in the year 1983. DEE, in the past three decades, driven by leaders with a bold and strong entrepreneurial vision,…

[tblsomedoodles]

CJ wouldn't think anything of the messy crescent shaped scarring on his arm because he already has so many other scars just from living in the apocalypse, but he would sometimes trace it when Leo isn't looking. Not necessarily because he's upset or the permanent mark is upsetting but because the memories associated with it are... concerning to him. He'd never seen his steadfast and composed teacher react in such a way, and the realization that his confident and level headedness in the heat of disaster wasn't always the case was troubling to him.

Troubled hin enough, he was certain he would have lost the infamous temper he'd inherited from his adopted parents if not for Leo's freakout.

He also can't help but wonder if the reason Master Leonardo had hidden himself away the way he had when Dr. Dee had died had actually been to hide a similar breakdown that his younger self had just from being temporarily separated from his twin.

Yes! I could see that being a thing.

And just imagine Future Leon, trying his best not to breakdown in front of the resistance when Dee dies. He's their leader, one of the few they had left, he couldn't give them reason to doubt him.

But Dee just died. For real this time. He's not coming back. And suddenly he feels like he's four again, watching his twin fall through a glowing hole in the ground. And he cant handle it. So he leaves, gets himself lost in what remains of the sewer systems before anyone can ask him why.

It's three days before Mikey finds him in a broken down section of pipe that had been his old echo chamber. It's unclear if it was broken when he got there or if he had helped it along. Mikey brings him back home, Leon's hand raw and voice little more than a faint scratchy mess. He doesn't ask what happened, just quietly patches the wounds and lets leon be. Because what else can he do? the only thing that would fix this was for Dee to come back, but that would only be possible with time travel, something Draxum had specifically stated that he should not mess with unless it was the end of the line and was willing to sacrifice his own life to accomplish it. And as much as he would be willing to do so, he didn't think Leon would want to get one brother back at the cost of the other.

Thank you!

[alfredosauce50]

The Place Beyond the Pines [2p! America x reader] 08

08 - Nightcall Wordcount: 3, 393 Rating: M for strong language, mature and ideologically sensitive themes. Chapter synopsis: Alfred witnesses something he wishes he didn’t. Even in tears, it gives him the resolve to call you one last time over the phone. Meanwhile, Allen drives you through the night to get the closure he always wanted. He tells you the truth about himself, his regrets, and everything he would’ve wanted you to know if he were to never see you again. The prospect is right around the corner as you’re forced to choose between the two. To cut one off forever and be with the other. Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film, “The Place Beyond the Pines.” The reader is referred to as she/her.

The Place Beyond the Pines 08 - Nightcall

A/N: I was inspired by Kavinsky’s song “Nightcall”

Alfred looked for you outside the bathrooms.

When he walked into a clearing, he saw what he needed to see.

As he stood frozen still on the dirt, drowned by the excitement of festivities and laughter of strangers, his chest ached with the sobs he’d yet to cry. The ringing and buzzing of machines in his ears faded. He couldn’t feel Jason’s arms around his neck anymore. All he knew was you and Allen sharing a tearful reunion, then his own crushing betrayal.

|

He didn’t like eating out back then. He was a cheapskate. But just for the opportunity to strike up a conversation, he would spare a few bucks for a coffee or a bagel. And just like any other regular customer, the staff eventually came to know him by name—Alfred, the guy who only came in for a single cup of joe. And he’d always sit in the same place.

The counter in front of the kitchen door.

You burst through it with a tray in hand. Alfred glances up. You flash him a smile. Making long, purposed strides to one of the booths, you placed two plates in front of a couple sitting opposite each other. When you returned, Alfred found himself listening eagerly to your footsteps. Any second now.

“The usual?” You appeared behind the counter and picked up a jug of coffee. He nodded with a grin. Bending down to retrieve a cup and saucer, you added this in a strain. “You know, you stay awfully long for someone who just orders rocket fuel.”

His flickered his zealous eyes over you like he couldn’t wait for his turn to speak.

“Why, can’t I do that?”

“No, but you’re giving me the wrong idea.”

He brought his coffee up to his lips and sipped it. His expression and tone were both unreadable when he piped up again. “What kinda idea?”

You scoffed through your nose, struggling to stifle a smile. He was good, but you could do him one better. “Hm... That you don’t have anything better to do?” Alfred laughed airily. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. “Or a social life, for that matter. You come in every afternoon, Alfred. Why do you keep coming back?”

He shrugged, pursing his lips forcefully.

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I really like the coffee.”

“Really,” You rose your brows skeptically. You picked up the jug and watched the blackish liquid slosh in the glass. “Nobody likes the coffee.”

Alfred stared at you wordlessly. ‘Oops’ was written all over his face. He was never good at telling whether hot, bitter, bean water was good or not.

“I, uh, I actually have to tell you something.”

His cheeks grew rosy as he cracked like an egg.

“Can you meet me outside in a minute?”

You showed a coy look, having figured him out. It had been two months since you first met him in January. He was a charmer in his own right. Sweet, sensitive, well-spoken, and funny, it wasn’t hard to befriend someone like him. He never beat around the bush to say he wanted to go steady with you either.

“I have something to tell you too,” While you stood with him outside his car, he would dart his eager eyes over your face as you spoke. You quickly broke away from his gaze, unable to handle his scrutiny on top of the rising anxiety in your system. “I...”

“Take your time,” Alfred squeezed your hand. When he felt the light trembling in it, he frowned deeply. You were deathly afraid of something. His reaction, no doubt. And so, he forced this out with hopes of calming your shallow breaths. “Hey.”

You looked up quickly. His ocean blues stared at you with so much understanding, your racing heart slowed until your chest no longer hurt. Something about Alfred made you want to trust him. His kindness, his respect, he always had a way of making people feel welcomed, no matter the circumstance.

“Whatever you tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you. So don’t be scared, okay?”

Alfred stroked your skin with his thumb.

“You can trust me.”

“I know I can trust you,” You shook your head lightly, causing a few tears to stream down to your chin. “But you won’t be happy either way. And you won’t deserve what you get into.” Reaching up to your face contorted with pain, you rubbed everything away.

“I don’t wanna do this to you.”

It was his turn to shake his head, albeit in dissent.

“Do what?” You turned away. He simply moved to face you again. “What could you do to me to make me unhappy? You have to tell me.”

“I’m pregnant.” You confessed.

His eyes went round from shock.

A suffocating silence ensued. You rubbed away more tears and tore yourself away from him before he could say anything. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You couldn’t handle it. Just when you felt the first sob rise in your throat, he shot out a hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you abruptly.

“Is that a problem?” Alfred asked almost defiantly. Just like that, he turned your greatest sorrow into your greatest joy. He saw the love in your eyes, fierce and undying. He saw hope, the one thing you’ve been needing in this despairing world. “If you’re not together with them anymore, why is it a problem?”

You were in love with him then.

So why weren’t you still in love with him now?

He sat in the living room with Jason on his lap. All the lights in the house were off, save for a dim lamp on the coffee table. Alfred never cried, but thinking about it had quiet tears running down his face.

He screwed his eyes shut and hugged Jason.

The boy looked just like his father. And he’d always hated it from the bottom of his heart. Sometimes, a mere glimpse of his little face was all it took for his blood to boil. But he couldn’t go on like this forever.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed into his hair. The child was quiet in his arms, having fallen asleep on the car ride back home. But his small hands never stopped clinging to his shirt, scrunching up the fabric.

“I’m sorry for ever being angry at you.”

I’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel                                     I want to drive you through the night,   down the hills

Allen floored it and sped through the black streets. His eyes darted around every so often as he made sharp turns, swerving across the asphalt in loud screeches. There was no destination. No endpoint. Just the craze to get away from there. And he never knew how much he needed it until he did it.

Taking you far, far away from Alfred.

Far, far away had to settle for ten blocks down, however. Pulling into a quiet road, he parked the car next to the curb and turned to you.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Allen stared at you warily as he raised his hands in surrender. “I know what you’re gonna say.” He shook his head.

“Do you?”

Your fierce glare on him had been unwavering, but as the pause dragged on, it faded into a look of terror. You turned away and covered your mouth in grief, only now just processing what had just happened. Allen couldn’t stop making mistakes. And you?

You kissed him.

“Yeah. ‘Fuck you, Allen. You’re the worst thing that’s happened to my life. I wished you never fucking came back.” He exclaimed, making you shrink into your neck from his intensity. His chest was rising and falling dramatically as he breathed. “I get it. Okay? I get it. And you know what? You’re right. And I’m sorry. But I just want you to hear me out.”

I’m gonna tell you something you   don’t want to hear I’m gonna show you where it’s dark,   but have no fear

“What? That you wished things ended differently?” You muttered, the whispered words barely in his earshot. Whipping your head to him, you showed your red face contorted with pain. “Well, guess what, Al? You can’t just, force everything to go your way just because you want to.” Bile had risen in your throat, and the tears returned in quiet streams.

“Come on, that’s not what I—” He winced.

You tried rubbing everything away, but to no avail. The tears just never stopped.

“—but it is. You brought me out here to do that, didn’t you?” Allen covered his eyes for a hot second; a last resort to hide the regret that ran through them. “So you did. But it’s too late for that, now. I’m with someone else, and I just left them by themselves at the fucking fair with Jason!” You choked.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Allen pleaded, earning a furious look from you. As desperate as you were to push him away, to save everything you had without him, your life with Alfred, and all your dreams, what he added melted your anger in an instant.

“But I just wanna tell you something,” He squeezed your hand tightly. “Just hear me out, please.”

“No. I can’t.”

“One last time.” He whispered. “Then you don’t have to listen to me ever again.”

His words spoke of cutting conviction, and his eyes, an endless sadness he could never live down. When you heard it, you had to look to the window to avoid crying even harder, knowing a single glimpse of his face was all it took. His beautiful, ugly face that smiled even in the darkest hours.

Whatever happened between you both, what he was about to say could be the last thing he’d ever say to you. He knew that. You did too.

So you listened with bated breath as he gathered himself in a thick swallow.

While he searched his soul for the exact words, the past, present, and future converged into one.

“You’re right in saying that I wished things ended differently,” He said, his voice no higher than a whisper to hide the cracks. “It’s my biggest regret, leaving you behind. Always was and always will be.” The words were like stones in his heart. As he finally let them out, the weight was lifted, one by one.

It was the one thing he failed to do two years ago, and now that he could, he felt strangely at peace.

“I thought I could make up for everything by giving you money, helping you out, buying that crib, just, being there, you know?” Allen grinned, but joy was hardly the word to describe what he was feeling. You knew that all too well, so you had to cover your head with your arms to contain the trembling.

“And I’m glad I did. But I need you to give it to me straight,” He continued, lifting your face up with a hand on your warm cheek. “So tell me to go, or to stay. I wanna hear it.” He felt you tense up in his fingers, a sure-fire sign he hit the mark.

This was finally it, and you were the one to decide how it ended. “I’ll listen to you this time.”

You never managed an answer. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to see Alfred yet, so going home wasn’t an option. Allen took you to his trailer in the meantime. Ten minutes in, the tense silence was broken by a few knocks on the door.

He went to answer it. Robin had been standing behind it, leaning to one side.

“There’s a phone call for her,” He began.

You sat up.

“It’s some guy called Alfred.”

|

“So, who’s the guy?” He murmured over your head. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”

You were laying on Alfred’s chest, feeling every breath go in and out of his body in slow rises. Your sweat-ridden bodies that pressed flush together never once repelled you. Every inch of his skin was another source of unlikely comfort. But upon hearing that question, cold feet settled in out of nowhere.

“Just some guy. Why?”

Alfred inhaled deeply, pausing to rephrase himself.

“Just curious,” You propped yourself up with your arms and loomed over him with a frown. “I promise.” He laughed breathily. “I’m not looking for a reason to be mad at you or anything. I already told you I don’t care about all that.” You sighed, then lowered yourself onto him again, albeit reluctantly.

There was no reason you couldn’t trust Alfred. But that didn’t make it any easier. After nearly a year, one would’ve thought you’d have moved on. But every time you thought about him, about Allen, your chest ached with the same pain on the day he left.

You thought you could hide it, from yourself and him, but Alfred was always more sensitive than he let on.

“It was just a fling, okay? I met him at the fair. He did the motorcycle shows.” While you unearthed old memories you wished to bury, he nodded tiredly.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been to one of those,” Alfred yawned, resting a hand on your back. “They’re pretty cool.”

“Yeah. We weren’t anything, so can we please stop talking about it now?” Your voice was no higher than a quick whisper to mask the hurt inside it.

Reducing what you and Allen had to something so meaningless affected you more than you wanted it to. But it had always been this way. The soft spot for him never went away when he did, and instead, grew at every passing day he wasn’t here.

But you had to ignore it for Alfred’s sake.

Allen wasn’t here for you.

He was.

|

That was one of the few conversations you talked about your past lover. You never mentioned Allen first, so it was always him. As he waited for you to pick up the phone, he lingered on the fact for an epiphany that took him too long to realize.

That night in bed, you were hurting. He’d been too tired to notice. But what he couldn’t excuse himself from was throwing away what Allen gave you for Jason’s first birthday. Alfred convinced himself he did that for your sake, to help you move on, but it was more self-serving than anything.

A dick move to soothe his short burst of jealousy.

And it probably only made you miss Allen more.

You were still in love with the bastard, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“Alfred?” Your voice grounded him faster than a cold splash of water. “It’s me.”

“Hey.” He smiled softly. There were so many things he wanted to say, but everything was lodged in his throat in a convoluted mess. The night was a somber mix of anger and muddled emotions, but what stood out most was a heart-wrenching sadness.

What he forced out only captured it.

“I missed you.”

A long pause followed.

If Alfred knew you like he thought he did, you were trying not to cry. Unbeknownst to him, he was right.

“I missed you too.” You murmured faintly. His lips twitched up some more, but the momentary joy was short-lived. His smile trembled away as he predicted what you would say, word for word. “I’m sorry I left you at the fair by yourself. I don’t have an excuse, so I don’t... I don’t wanna ask for your forgiveness.”

The mood was somber and knowing. You both understood each other’s feelings without having to relay them. The phone call was just a formality.

“I know. I know you’re sorry,” Alfred reiterated, bringing a hand up to his eyes. What he was about to say would break the ice that formed, a phenomenon that happened every single time Allen was involved. “But he probably forced you to leave, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I—”

“—you kissed him. I know.” His voice became a little strained, but he forced himself to keep walking down this road he took. “I saw, (F/N). I saw.”

You tried your damnedest to not break apart right then and there. You thought it hit you before, but here you were, reliving one of your biggest regrets that would turn into your salvation or damnation. However Alfred took it was entirely up to him. And you wouldn’t be able to hold it against him.

“I’m really sorry.” You choked, unable to fathom how hurt he must’ve been when he witnessed everything. “I get it if you want to break things off. I’ve been unfair to you for the longest time, not being able to focus on you. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Who said it was a waste of time?” Alfred muttered, shedding a few quiet tears himself. You covered your mouth to stifle any noises as you kept listening.

He’d been happy for nearly two years, being with you. Things may have turned a little rocky turn towards the end, but as sure as the sun rose, his love stayed constant. And it would stay that way as long as he breathed. “I don’t think it was a waste of time. I loved what we had. I loved dreaming with you.” Alfred sucked in a sharp breath to hold back a cry.

“And I love you, ‘kay? But I have to ask,” You closed your eyes as you prepared for the dreaded question.

“Did you ever love me?”

You would never forgive yourself to think he needed the reassurance. To think he wasn’t sure of something so true. But then again, what you did tonight, as well as many other nights beforehand, would’ve tested that and poisoned him with doubt.

“I always loved you. I fell in love with you the second you said you wanted to be with me,” You gushed. By then, you’d run out of tears to cry, but the outburst was the most emotional you’ve ever been. “I didn’t think I’d have a chance to be with anybody again. I was all alone when I had Jason. But you... You swept me off my feet. I was crazy about you.”

Blood rushed up to his face for a hot blush, and he was pleased to say it wasn’t because he was about to cry again. Not sad tears, at least.

“But you’re crazier about Allen.”

“Alfred, I mean it.” You huffed sharply. He chuckled on the other side, much to your relief. “I really do, Al. And I still love you, even if I don’t deserve to.”

“Then that’s all I wanted to hear.”

Allen drove you back home. Alfred had been waiting on the front porch. The second you saw the guy, you ran to him like the wind and plowed into his arms. While you both hugged, you both talked some more. As much as it hurt to let you go, he couldn’t force you to be with him when it wasn’t what you wanted.

But you made it pretty explicit it would’ve happened if the circumstances were different. He could be your lover in another life, just not this one. Allen was a little grumpy upon hearing it, but he didn’t have any complaints. What you had with Alfred was special, and he respected that—the guy looked after you in ways he couldn’t, so he ended up shaking on it.

Alfred gripped his hand crazy tight, a final display of his hot frustration with him after tonight, but they cleared a year-long feud nonetheless.

After all, they couldn’t be the only receivers of your love, no matter how fiercely they wished it.

You were at Alfred’s house for another week. Your mother decided to stay, which he was more than happy about. It gave you another reason to write him on top of being Jason’s godfather. Otherwise, you had a clear destination in mind.

Wherever Allen went, you followed.

“You ready to roll?” He asked, gripping your waist with untold affection. His smile on you was unwavering and spoke of endless possibilities. Allen was finally untethered from the past, and he would charge into the future with you, unrestrained and pining for more.

“Always.”

The feeling of his mouth on yours never felt so right.

Whether it was to his trailer or down to New York City courtesy of Mathias’s car, a favor he was doing him for something you had yet to find out, you were always by his side. Allen didn’t have to worry about leaving you behind again, and instead, he could focus on growing with you rather than apart.

[deepiping]

Advantages Of Dee Piping's Modular Piping Skids And Modules For Industrial Applications

The modular design and customization capabilities of Dee's skids and modules make them a highly versatile and efficient solution for a variety of industrial applications

[veryrealimagination]

Jackson had been watching his charge do nothing but tend to the various machines around his workshop for the last seven hours. Three furnaces were going, loading him up on carbon steel that he would immediately feed into the industrial cutter for more plates. The grinder was mass producing bronze pipes. If he wasn’t babysitting those, he was working on the mess of wires and small items at his Worktable, or he switched to the assembly station.

Llewellyn was good at what he could do. The fix to the Dee Dee transport system had been a stroke of genius, one that came with a few threats as more experienced builders didn’t like a child upstaging them. With more complex projects being guided to him, they got angrier. Several didn’t like that the son of a well known woman builder was doing better than them.

But now, he needed to rest. He was basically running himself down trying to get the main project done while also taking on smaller commissions to build up his savings. His gols ran out faster than most builders. He was paying for his space at a higher rate, paying more for the rights to mine and get wood. He didn’t complain. He should have, but he wasn’t.

Watts didn’t stop when he watched Jackson walk in. He pulled out two more carbon steel bars that were barely cool enough to handle without protection and held onto them while he waited for a third and fourth to come out so have them cut. The older man took the bars and set them on his Worktable. Confused, he watched the older man before he was lifted in the air and over the man’s shoulder. “Jackson?!” he yelped, flailing for three seconds before grabbing on to the back of the man’s shirt.

He was then deposited at the small dining table where there was a plate of Chicken Risotto with Coconut and vegetable salad waiting for him. A basket of fresh bread and butter separated that and well seasoned ribs and his own vegetable salad. The man sat down by his food. “Eat, Watts,” he said, “Before everything goes cold.” The younger man glanced down at his food, hearing and feeling his stomach rumble in response. Jackson smirked when Watts dug into the risotto first, his teenaged appetite returning with a vengeance to devour the bowl. One whole bread loaf was grabbed and torn into with the butter being attack after. “Don’t forget your vegetables.”

That gained a glare in return before a piece of lettuce was speared and regretfully shoved in his mouth. The salad was also ate at a fast pace. The bread disappeared, the chicken stripped.

“Thanks, Jackson.”

The older man smiled. “You’re welcome, Watts. Finish your vegetables.”

[junghelioseok]

rogue.

↳ a night out leads you to exactly where you want to be.

◇ yoongi x reader ◇ smut | bit of angst | strangers!au ◇ 3.9k [1/1]

⇢ for danica aka @dee-ehn, as part of ficswithluv’s changeswithluv project for black lives matter ♡

notes: i told danica this was going to be daechwita!yoongi and boy i was not kidding one bit! i took quite a few creative liberties, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. thank you for your donation to such an important cause!

warnings: dom!yoongi, tatted and pierced!yoongi, like he has a tongue piercing whoOPS my hand slipped 🙈, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!!), a very vague sense of the time period in which this is all happening bc it’s an au and i’m a dumbass idk!!! 🙈

It’s impossible to miss the man sitting in the corner of the bar.

He’s surrounded by a raucous group of people you can only assume are his friends, dressed in muted green with a silver chain at his throat. Dark eyes peer out from behind dark hair, ever vigilant as they flit around the room, scanning faces and assessing threats. Some would call it caution—others would call it paranoia—but you have to applaud him nonetheless. One can never be too careful, after all. While this bar does serve as an unofficial headquarters for the resistance, you’ve seen time and time again that the government has eyes and ears everywhere. You’ve watched friends and acquaintances alike get dragged off by uniformed guards, the emperor’s insignia on their chests shining bright as a flame and just as dangerous.

You’re seated at the counter on this particular evening. The bar is crowded, but even the other patrons’ chatter cannot drown out the conversation surrounding the man and his friends. It’s almost as if you’re attuned to them—like a radio set to a single station before the dial broke off. Every word comes through as clear as day, and you lean back in your seat to listen, sipping languidly on your drink.

“I’m telling you, we’re ready,” one of the men is saying. In the firelight, his brown hair glows orange, and the scruff of beard on his chin is rust. “One more week, and everything will be set. Taehyung’s already talked his way into the palace. We won’t have a better shot than this.”

“It’s hard to believe he’s already in,” the man across from him says, his wide doe eyes a stark contrast to the hard set of his jaw. “I thought it’d take him a lot longer, to be honest.”

“Tae’s a good liar,” a third man pipes up, shrugging. “Always has been.”

The second man snickers, his nose scrunching with mirth. “Really? You don’t say. You wouldn’t happen to be thinking about the dumpling incident again, would you, Jimin?”

Through all of this, the dark-haired man stays silent, sipping pensively on his drink. His gaze roves past where you’re seated, and though you can’t be certain, you swear it lingers for a split second before moving on.

“Let’s give credit where credit is due, though.” The first speaker is talking again, giving the dark-haired man a hearty clap on the back that nearly sends his tankard flying. “We wouldn’t have gotten half as far in our plan if it wasn’t for Yoongi here. How about a toast?”

“To Yoongi,” the one named Jimin intones immediately, raising his cup. “He’s always fighting the good fight.”

“To our very own Min Yoongi, finally taking out the asshole emperor for good,” the first man adds. “To one asshole killing another—and with the same last name, nonetheless. You sure there’s no relation between you two? We could be planning a patricide, for all we know.”

Yoongi stiffens. “Don’t even joke about that,” he says, his voice deep and lilting with a pleasant rasp that sends a shiver down the length of your spine. “That bastard isn’t my family. And even if he is—well, he won’t be for much longer.”

The threat lacing his words is unmistakable, and when you shiver again, it’s for a wholly different reason. People who want the cruel emperor dead aren’t difficult to come by, but few have the courage to speak of it so openly. But now, with the resistance’s plan finally coming to fruition, people are getting bolder. Tougher. Happier.

It hadn’t felt real, at first. The initial whispers were hesitant and disbelieving, but gained momentum with each passing day. Have you heard? The resistance is finally making a move. They’re going to kill Emperor Min. But despite the growing excitement amongst the townspeople, your heart remains heavy.

Ever since Emperor Min came into power a decade ago, his cruelty and ruthlessness have been unparalleled. His guards patrol the streets at night under the guise of keeping the peace, but you know as well as anyone that they’re searching for dissenters. Every night, you huddle away in your home with the windows shuttered, listening as the guards loot the bars and beat the helpless, all the while trying to root out rumored members of the resistance.

So far, their efforts have seen mixed success. Last you heard, some lower ranking members had been imprisoned. Several were executed two months back, their severed heads hung from the palace walls as an example to those who dared defy the regime. But the topmost members of the resistance, as well as the leader, have all managed to evade capture. They began a series of weekly raids, sneaking into the palace’s kitchens and coming away with stocks of food to feed the hungry. Next they looted the money vaults, filling their bags with bars of gold for distribution. And then they visited the armory.

Needless to say, the rumors swelled—as did the emperor’s desperation to quash the dissenters. You kept a careful ear close to the ground for any news, and listened in disbelief as each subsequent story grew more outlandish.

The leader of the resistance is the old emperor, who faked his death all those years ago.

The leader is Emperor Min’s bastard son, and he’s avenging his mother’s death.

The leader is—

A fresh wave of laughter draws you out of your thoughts, and your attention immediately goes to the source. The group of men surrounding Yoongi has dissolved into mirth, but the dark-haired man isn’t grinning with the rest of them. His dark eyes are trained on you, sharp and steady, and you wonder at what he could possibly be thinking. Is he even staring at you? You turn to check behind you, just to be sure.

And when you turn around again, he’s standing right in front of you.

“Oh!” you squeak, startled by his sudden proximity.

Yoongi blinks lazily at you, unfazed. He catches the bartender’s attention and buys another drink, and you belatedly notice that the tankard in his hand is empty and instantly feel foolish for assuming that he came over for anything else. Still, you can’t help but zero in on the way he leans against the counter as he waits, his body a hair’s breadth from yours, his elbows propped up on the polished wooden surface. This close to him, you can see the beginnings of an intricate serpentine dragon coiled around his right forearm, the inky black tail looping around his wrist before coming to a stop near the silver ring on his thumb. The rest of the tattoo disappears into the rolled up sleeves of his worn green jacket, and you wonder exactly where it begins.

Then you wonder what it would be like to trace those lines of ink with your fingers—and your tongue, if he permits it. Your throat bobs at the thought, your thighs squeezing together unconsciously, and it’s almost as if he can read your mind because he’s suddenly leaning closer, a crooked smirk playing on his lips.

“You seem tense,” he murmurs. “Why’s that, doll?”

A spark ignites the base of your spine at the term of endearment, flaring up through your veins. He’s so close you can count each individual eyelash, fluttering against his pale cheekbones with every blink. Silver earrings dangle from his ears—a combination of thin chains and hoops that glitter in the dim light. You think you spot another flash of silver between his lips, embedded in his tongue.

“Long week,” you manage at last, thanking your lucky stars that your voice comes out steady. “Trouble at work. But you don’t want to hear about that.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi replies, accepting the fresh drink that the bartender hands him with a nod of thanks. He takes a long sip, and you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on the soft curve of his lips around the rim of the glass. Then he nods at your own glass, which is half-full and mostly ice at this point. “Can I get you another? I hear alcohol makes your troubles go away.”

You raise a brow. “Really? I hear it just causes new, different troubles.”

An amused grin pulls at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “You may be right about that,” he concedes, setting his drink down with a thunk and leaning in close again. “So how exactly do you propose we make your troubles go away?”

Your other brow rises to join the first. “I don’t recall asking for your help.”

That earns you another grin. “And yet, here I am, offering my services nonetheless.”

A beat of silence stretches between you, taut as a tightrope and thick with tension. Yoongi raises his glass to his lips again, but his dark eyes remain fixed on yours over the rim, unblinking and never once wavering. The clamor of the bar fades into the background, slowing until it feels like you’re swimming in molasses. Your heart thuds in your chest, arrhythmic and fluttery as the wings of the butterflies that have made a home in your belly.

You blink first. Your gaze drops to the soft pout of his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the thread to snap—for Yoongi to ditch his drink and grab your hand instead. “You wanna get out of here?” he asks.

And maybe it’s the alcohol swimming in your system, but you nod. Yoongi stands up, tugging you with him, and you relish the way his fingers fit perfectly into the spaces between your own. He leads you through the crowded bar, weaving amongst the scattered tables and their occupants, and you gasp when he suddenly veers to the side and tugs you into a dim corridor. Several closed doors line it, and he doesn’t hesitate to cage you against the nearest one. His mouth descends on yours, slanting fervently across yours in a kiss, and your eyes flutter shut.

Yoongi kisses you with intoxicating ferocity. His palms are hot against the sliver of skin that your shirt has ridden up to reveal, and devious fingers slide beneath the hem to push it up further. You moan into his open mouth, your breaths intermingling, and it turns into a gasp when the doorknob suddenly digs into your back, cool and unyielding.

Your companion pulls back, frowning at the way the knob refuses to give beneath his fingertips. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Locked.”

“What a shame,” you breathe back.

He hums and takes your face in his hands, kissing you until you go weak in the knees. “I’ve got a car out back,” he rasps when he pulls away.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Not two minutes later, you’re stumbling out into the back alleyway, the low drone of traffic and passersby a welcome change from the din inside the bar. As promised, a beat-up black sedan is parked against the brick wall, and Yoongi wastes no time in pressing you down onto the hood, slotting himself between your spread legs and mouthing insistently at your neck until you’re scrabbling at his back, your breathing labored and shaky.

“Come on, doll.” Yoongi straightens up, raking his dark hair out of his eyes and offering you a crooked smirk. “You can do better than that. Be a good girl for me and let me hear you.”

A pulse of heat spikes through you. His hands come down on either side of your body, twin metallic thunks as the rings on his fingers meet steel. One side of his mouth quirks as he looms above you, but he doesn’t touch you just yet. The silvery chains around his neck glint in the dim glow of the streetlamp at the end of the alley, and Yoongi huffs out an amused chuckle when he notices your diverted attention.

“Eyes on me, doll,” he chides, tapping the side of his nose. “Unless you’re looking for an audience?” Thoughtfully, he glances over his shoulder, where the alley opens up into the main street. Despite the late hour, there are still cars and pedestrians ambling past, completely unaware of the obscene way you’re sprawled atop the hood of Yoongi’s car with the man himself between your legs.

Completely unaware of the way your skirt is now slowly riding up, aided by Yoongi’s warm hand sliding along the soft, delicate skin of your inner thigh.

“I think you might like the idea of an audience too much,” Yoongi breathes, leaning down until his breath is fanning against your cheeks. There’s a tinge of alcohol that lingers on him, the barest hint of sweetness, but it’s neither overbearing nor unpleasant. You’ve been with men like that before—men whose drunkenness made them bold and stupid and immune to your desires. Those men were nothing like Yoongi, who’s staring down at you, ravenous, as if you’re a feast just begging for him to partake. Nothing like Yoongi, whose carnal gaze promises that he knows exactly what you need.

“I think,” he continues, so casually he may as well have been talking about the weather, “it turns you on, knowing that anyone might look this way and see you like this.” His voice is casual but his smile is wicked, and the combination is enough to have your core seizing, untouched.

And then he’s grabbing at the material of your skirt, bunching it up and leaving your bottom half fully exposed. Teasing fingertips skim the lacy edge of your panties, and your eyes widen when he snaps the elastic against your skin. “Yoongi!”

“Much better,” he hums approvingly. Your cheeks flush with warmth.

When he touches you again, it’s with much more fervor, the pad of his index finger tracing your clothed slit and molding the dampened fabric to your folds. Distantly, you think that you should be more embarrassed, being this wet from just some kissing and a few calculated touches, but the rest of your brain is too lost in Yoongi to care. Your gaze traces the dark ink blossoming across the skin of his forearms, following the serpentine coils of the dragon around his wrist. And then it drops to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans, straining against the faded denim.

Yoongi spots your new fixation almost instantaneously, his smirk morphing into something mocking. “What is it, doll? Do you want something?”

“I—” you try, but your voice sticks in your throat. Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“That won’t do,” he says. He cups your mound in one warm hand, his middle finger dipping inside you through the lace of your underwear, and you keen at the foreign texture of the sodden material. “Would you like to try again?”

“Yoongi, please,” you breathe shakily. Your thighs clench together unconsciously, and your companion merely chuckles as he pushes them back apart and settles between them, nosing forward until he’s inches from your dripping core.

“Good girls tell me what they want,” he proclaims softly. “Good girls get rewarded. But bad girls, they get punished. Do you want to guess which one you are, doll?”

He leaves you little room to answer—not that you could’ve mustered up anything coherent even if you tried. In the span of a single breath, Yoongi pulls aside your drenched underwear and sinks his tongue inside your pussy, and you belatedly realize that you’d been correct when you thought you saw a silver piercing embedded in his tongue. The metal ball glides smoothly along your walls, hard and unyielding. Each time he pulls back, or darts up to flick at your clit, or laves at your folds with the enthusiasm of a man starved, you feel it rubbing up against your sensitive flesh, the stimulation unlike any other.

If this is his idea of punishment, you would happily take it any day, night, or afternoon.

There’s something beginning to brew in your belly—something coiling tighter and tighter with each movement of Yoongi’s questing tongue. He’s mouthing languidly at your clit now, winding lazy circles around the little nub while two of his fingers stretch you open, and you’re beyond thankful that he’s chosen to wear smooth rings tonight. The pressure grows as he digs deeper, and he must sense your rapidly approaching high because he doubles his efforts to get you there, sliding in a third finger and sucking harder on your clit. You’re so, so close.

And then it all stops.

Yoongi straightens up and withdraws his fingers, licking his lips. His chin is shiny with your juices and his fingers are likewise coated in your sheen, but he seems otherwise unruffled as he adjusts his sleeves and takes in your gaping visage.

“You—!” you splutter, distraught. “How could… I was so close!”

He pins you in place with a look, the corner of his mouth lifting into a wry smirk. “I told you that bad girls get punished, doll. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now, do I need to repeat myself again, or do you want to tell me what you w—”

“I want your cock,” you blurt. “Please, Yoongi.”

At your shameless declaration, his expression shifts—turning into something dark and positively predatory. “Then turn around for me,” he commands, his voice soft but no less authoritative. “Hands on the hood of the car. I’m not planning on being gentle.”

A shiver dances down your spine as you comply, bracing yourself against the car. It’s a warm night, but the steel is still cool to the touch, smooth and hard beneath your palms. Behind you, you can hear Yoongi shedding his jacket and unbuckling his belt, a muffled grunt of relief escaping him as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. You want so badly to turn around and look at him—to take in the way his hand grips his cock and memorize every ridge and protruding vein—but you resist the urge. Instead, you wait, your head bowed, for him to make his next move.

Much to your relief, you don’t have to wait long. He’s palming at your hips before you can even draw your next breath, inked arms winding around your body so he can squeeze at your clothed breasts. He takes his time fondling each swell, pinching your nipples until they ache, and you sense the satisfaction radiating off of him when he finally decides to rid you of your shirt entirely.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he rasps, tracing along your spine before splaying a hand at the base so that you’re forced to arch for him. Immediately, you bend to his will, wiggling your hips slightly as you move into position. His sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and neither does the low hum of appreciation that bubbles up from his throat as he smooths a hand along the curve of your ass. You can’t help but preen a bit under his approval, and when Yoongi notices, he chortles and lands a teasing smack on your rear that has you moaning.

“Dirty girl,” he accuses, amusement lacing his tone. “You really want my cock that badly, doll?”

You can only nod, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind. He makes quick work of your soiled panties, hooking two thumbs into the waistband and tugging them down to pool around your ankles. Now completely bare, you can feel every inch of Yoongi’s lean torso as he pulls you close and positions himself at your entrance, parting your walls with near-tortuous deliberation.

“Faster,” you gasp, clenching around him in an effort to goad him into picking up his pace. “Yoongi, I want your cock so bad, please—”

The rest of your sentence ends in a garbled, choked moan. Yoongi thrusts forward with no preamble, filling you up to the very brim, and when he simultaneously finds your clit with his thumb, the jolt of pleasure is enough to steal all the oxygen from your lungs. He circles the sensitive nub between his fingertips with expert precision, and you can only whimper out his name as he starts up a steady rhythm, his mouth finding its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder and lingering there.

The tight coil of pressure is growing in your belly once more, and this time you know that Yoongi has no intention of stopping it. He’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, and you hear rather than see the strain in his jaw as he grits out your name and commands you to come, his thumb rubbing against your clit in just the right way to send you hurtling off the precipice and into white-hot bliss.

By the time you come back down, he’s getting close too. You can tell from the way his pace gets more and more erratic, and you pretend you don’t hear the I love you intermingled with the filth and praise he whispers into your skin. Instead, you let him palm your hips and tug you closer, sighing out his name and encouraging him to yes, come inside me and I love you too.

It isn’t until your combined juices are beginning to drip down your thigh and his cock is slowly softening inside you, that he huffs out a hoarse laugh. “You ruined the immersion,” he murmurs, pulling out and turning you around so he can kiss you properly. “I don’t think you’d tell a complete stranger that you love them, no matter how good the sex may have been.”

You smack his arm weakly, giggling. “Oh, shut up. You told me you loved me first, you know.”

Yoongi hums and presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Whatever you say, doll.”

Still smiling, you nestle closer to him, burying your face into his bare shoulder. Idly, you trace the scars littered across his chest—each one its own individual constellation, telling the story of just how long he’s fought against the tyrannical regime you live under. At the thought, your smile fades.

“I hope you’re not wrong about the plan,” you murmur, stroking the scar that’s just above his heart before moving to the ones that decorate his ribcage, the puckered flesh intermingling with the inky gladiolus blossoms he’s gotten tattooed there. One flower for each member of the resistance who’s lost their life—a permanent in memoriam. You follow the delicate outlines with a fingertip, committing each and every one to memory, and think back to all the rumors that say the leader of the resistance is the zombified old emperor, or Emperor Min’s bastard son.

Yet none of the rumors are as powerful as the one that you know to be the truth—that the leader of the resistance is just a man. A man with a good heart and a kind soul, who grew tired of living under the emperor’s relentless tyranny and decided to take matters into his own hands. A man who remembered his fallen comrades, and always kept his word, no matter how small or trivial a thing it might be.

“Come back to me when it’s all over,” you whisper.

Yoongi tilts your chin up gently, cradling your face in his hands as if you’re made of glass. “I will,” he whispers back. “I promise.”

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Four No’s and a Yes.

Prompt: Write about someone who gets proposed to five times on Christmas Eve.

Warnings: None, cuteness, fluff i guess lol

Dean x Reader (Childhood friends)

Chritsmas Eve 2016.

The Y/L/N’s house was decorated to the T, Mrs. Y/L/N always went all out for Christmas and to say Dean loved it was an understatement. Dean had grown up next door to y/n and her family all his life, every Christmas was spent with his best friend and her family, their families took turns every year on which family would host the big Christmas dinner. It was Christmas eve, this year, Y/n’s family was hosting Christmas Eve and Day. 

He watched as you sat down across from him, the same way you did every year, this time your boyfriend of almost a year sitting next to you. Dean frowned but for the most part accepted him and tried to make Carl as welcome as possible. 

It’s not that he disliked the guys she dated, he just never thought they were good enough for his best friend, it had nothing to do with the fact he’d been inlove wih you almost all his life, despite what Sam and his parents had to say about it. 

The meal conversations began, Dean smiled as he watched Sam’s wife wipe a smudge of food off his brothers face before then placing a small peck on his cheek. He was imsensely happy for his little brother, he had tried to find love himself but despite all the girls that came and went, none were ever good enough to bring home to Mary and John, none ever compared to, well, you. 

“So Dee, any news about that girl you took out last week? She seemed nice.” You ask, shoving a fork of ham into your mouth, he chuckles watching before he replies, “uh no, didn’t pan out, first date and she was already naming our kids.” He shakes his head, cringing. Y/N makes a funny grossed out face, “Yikes, stage 5 clinger”, Dean smirks, “Exactly, not my style, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Carl pipes up, raising an eyebrow at Dean. Right, Carl hated when Dean called you by a pet name, sucks for him doesn’t it. Dean shrugs, y/n reassures him its just for fun, that they’ve been friends forever and Dean’s the only other man allowed to call her that. Carl doesn’t seem happy but strugs it off. 

It’s almost 9 Pm when Carl speaks, he stands up from the tables, everyone having had a few rounds of wine by now and 50 conversations going on at once. He clears his troat, tapping his champagne glass with his fork, everyone stops, their attention on him. 

“Well, this has been an amazing night, y/n your family is incredible, i’m so happy to have shared this holiday with you all, but tonight, i want to share another moment with you guys, i know how important family is to y/n and i want to make sure i do this right.” He pauses, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her up, Dean can see the look on her face, shes shocked and confused, not sure what the hell Carl thinks he’s doing. 

He pulls something out of his pocket, Dean lets out a soft groan before taking a huge chug of his beer, Sam pats his back, a silent signal asking if he’s okay. He shrugs it off. 

“Y/n, i know we haven’t been together as long as other people, but my love for you has no limits, we are a perfect match and you’re a perfect part of me, you make me better, i love you so much, and i don’t want to waste anymore time,” 

He gets down on one knee, Dean watches, slightly angrily as y/n gasps, she slightly looks at Dean and he can see the panicked look on her face, she’s not ready for this, he’s ambushed her. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife, my partner in crime, my forever.” Dean rolls his eyes, his mother swatting his arm and giving him a disapproving look. Y/n stays silent, looking around as everyone watches her, Then, she bolts. 

Dean chases after her to see if she’s okay. 

Carl was never seen again after that night.

Christmas Eve 2017

Christmas was different this year, Their parents had decided they wanted a break from cooking, so they had booked a cruise for vacation, not telling any of their kids until last minute. 

Sam and Jess had decided to have Christmas with her family now that they were expecting their first child. Sam was over the moon at the chance to be a dad, he was going to be an amazing one. 

Dean checks the tickets, finding the seats and throwing the jackets over them, y/n heads towards him, sitting next to him in her own seat and she hands him his beer and the hotdogs she grabbed. Dean was lucky he booked last minute tickets to the wrestling match, not surprised that even on Christmas eve, the stadium was booked solid. 

They enjoy the fights, they’re small local fights, no big names, but they both enjoy it, laughing and enjoying their time together as best friends, it’s been a while. Since she started dating Max four months ago, he barely sees her, he’s insecure, especially when Dean’s around, probably because Dean’s twice his size in height and muscle, but that’s not his problem. Max starts fights with y/n anytime they hang out, so for her sake, he keeps his distance, waiting for her to call him for a hangout instead. 

An hour in and it’s break time, they sit and chat, and before they know it, a voice is speaking over the PA system. “Sorry to interupt everyone, but since we are on a break, it seems like the perfect time to do this. Y/n Y/l/N, if you wouldn’t mind looking up at the jumbotron, we have a message for you from Max.” 

Y/n’s eyes go wide, she looks at Dean curiously and he shrugs, just as confused. She looks at the screen, Max’s smiling face on the screen as he’s handed the microphone. 

“Y/n, i know this is random and out of the blue, but you make me really happy, i know you’re not big on attention and big romantic gestures, but i wanted to do something memorable, so, i was hoping you’d be down for being my wife, will you Marry me?” he speaks, Dean almost can’t believe it, what was with these losers, she deserved to be proposed to, but not so soon and definitely not on the spot, she hated grand gestures that drew attention to her. Y/n barely knew what she wanted to do with her life, let alone to settle down. 

Y/N starts breathing heavy, tears forming as she starts to panic at the whole stadium now staring at her and waiting for her answer, and just like that, yet again, she tries to run but Dean stops her, suggesting they go outside and talk to Max privately before she has a complete anxiety attack.

Another douchebag he never sees again. 

Christmas Eve 2018

Another year, another Christmas Eve, y/n is sitting on Deans couch, the two of them got stuck at the airport due to a snow storm and aren’t making it home for Christmas. They had driven back to Dean’s place and she decided to crash with him, She’d just broken up with her recent douchebag boyfriend and wasn’t in happy spirits. She lies on his couch, sniffling as she watches her favoirte Christmas movie, which is currently everything on the hallmark channel. 

Dean sits next to her, her feet in his lap as he messages her feet, warming them up from the cold. 

“Am i ever going to find the right guy? i mean, at this point it’s become a pattern, every fucking Christmas i end up single and alone, i should just give up finding the perfect guy.” She shrugs, wiping away a stray tear.

Dean sighs, “First off, you’re not alone, you have me. Second, you pick crappy guys, you have shitty ass taste. Give it time, sweetheart, the perfect guy for you is out there, and you’ll find him, you’re just looking in the wrong places.” Dean assures her and she gives him a dry chuckle.

“Oh yea, well if you ever come across prince charming, send him my way.” She rolls her eyes and he laughs. He hates seeing her upset. 

Theyre at the local skating rink when it happens, he finally got her to stop crying enough to take her out and here comes Jack, Jake, Joke, whatever the fuck his name was holding a bouquet of roses and a ring box, smiling widely at her, this jackass really thinks a ring will fix everything he’s done to her. What a damn clown. 

Y/n stops abrutly, eyeing him up and down, she’s definitely angry still. 

“That better not be what the fuck i think it is.” She snaps, tossing the roses in the trash. “Y/n, i know i fucked up, but you’re worth more than-” He’s cut off by the sound of her hand meeting his cheek. 

“NO!” She shouts, a few people now stopping to watch. “You have some NERVE showing up here, after cheating on me and for what? to propose? ARE YOU FUCKING DRUNK? In what fucking small minded universe that you live in do you think proposing to me is going to fix what you broke? No, i will not marry you. Go to hell, Jeff.” She stomps off, as good as she can in skates. 

Jeff, that’s his fucking name. He looks over at me and i shrug. “You fucked that up on your own man, you don’t deserve her.” Dean walks away.

She never mentions Jeff again.

Christmas Eve 2019

Their families get together again, Dean’s family hosts this year, y/n and he had flown home early this year to help with the food and decorations, y/n had run into one of her exes, a guy she dated back in highschool, He’d ran in Sam’s circle of friends, one of his old football buddies. They had gone on a date to catch up, ending up at the local bar with some old highschool friends.

Sam sits next to him, downing his own beer. “Man, why don’t you just tell her you’re her prince charming, watching her get with and dump all these idiots is getting tiring. Even mom and dad know you two belong together.” Sam chuckles, letting out a burp, he’s clearly borderlining between drunk and tipsy. Dean sighs, he’s going to have to call Jessica soon. 

“If i was her soulmate, she’d have noticed by now. I’m not going to make that choice for her. If it’s meant to be, she’ll realize it on her own, not because i forced her to like me.” He shrugs and Sam laughs, “You’re both so stupid.” Sam huffs and shakes his head. 

Before Sam can continue pestering him about his failure to woo Y/n, they hear a commotion, they turn to see Eric covered in beer, calling y/n a bitch and some other not nice words. 

Dean gets protective, not even a split second before he’s standing next to her, shoving Eric away from her. “Easy man, get away from her.” He yells and Eric huffs, throwing his arms in the air, “Whatever, you’re a waste of time, can’t believe i ever dated you, i forgot what it was like being with you.” He snarls before stepping outside, no doubt to light up another blunt. 

Dean frowns, “What happened?” he asks and you laugh. “He proposed, said he missed me and regretted ever breaking things off, said he finally realized i was the one that got away.” She airquotes before she sips her beer, huffing, “Turns out, that’s his game, he was hoping if i said yes i’d be over the moon and jump into bed with him again. Ugh, i hate men.” she grunts before walking out, Dean slaps a few bills on her table before going after her, a semi drunk Sam at his side. 

Chritmas Eve 2020

Christmas Eve dinner is a hit. Changing things up, Dean and Y/n had decided to host this year, flying their families out to vancouver. It’s cold and snowy, but makes Christmas actually feel like Christmas, unlike the warm sunny holiday in california, they love it there, but this year, with the snow, it actually feels like a real Christmas. 

They sit out on the back deck, taking a break from the family game night and friendly comeptition and yelling going on inside. Their families are nuts, but it always makes for a great time. 

Dean’s sure he’s ready, she hasn’t dated anyone since the last proposal, and he’s insane, he’s sure of it, he’s sure just like the others, he’ll be turned down, and he’s willing to make an utter fool of himself, but it’s time, he’s waited long enough, he needs her to know, he needs to tell her, he’ll never be able to truly move on and get over her if he doesn’t at least get an answer on wether she feels the same. 

“How long do you think that bingo game is going to last?” She asks, chuckling and she watches their families fight over who had bingo first. 

“Marry me.” He blurts it out without even realizing it. That’s not how he wanted that whole thing to go, he had planned it out, but plans go out the window when you spend time obsessing on things being perfect.

“What?” She’s stunned, but she hasn’t run away yet, and she’s not hyperventilating, that’s a good sign. He begins to babble like a damn idiot.

“I don’t have a ring, or a proper set up like a jumbotron or some shit, and this isn’t even how i planned on this day going, i’m not perfect, and i have my flaws, hell i’m so fucked up i’d be insane to think i even deserve even half your love, but i’m crazy about you, and i have been since 5th grade, when you gave me my first valentines card because no one in class gave me one and then kissed my cheek and told me you’d always be my valentine. I guess, what i’m trying to say is i may not be your prince charming, but you’ve always been my girl, i’ve never chosen anyone but you, and i realize, i don’t ever want anyone, except you.” He finally takes a breath, too scared to make eye contact, and he sighs.

“I know this is stupid and random and you can totally say no or run away if th-” 

“Yes.” She stuns him, completely silencing his rant.

He finally meets her eyes, “What?” He asks, sure as shit he heard her wrong. 

“Yes, Winchester, i’ll marry you.” She says, this time clear as day. 

He huffs out a laugh, “ Wait, seriously?” he asks, stunned and still thinking she has to be fucking with him.

She shrugs and smiles, “Yeah, I’ve known you all my life, you were always my prince charming, my perfect match, i was just waiting for you to figure it out.” She laughs. Dean’s eyes roam her face, for the first time, seeing how perfect she really is for him. 

“I literally could have been with you this entire time?” he raises and eyebrow and she shrugs, smiling. He shakes his head, not believing his own stupidity before he takes full advatnge, leaning in and finally claiming what’s been his this entire time. 

Safe to say, that was the last proposal she ever recieved. 

[nayutai]

The Task At Hand

Pairing Mingyu x Female OC

Word Count 15.1k

Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping

Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last. 

Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well! 

Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.

“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly. 

“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth. 

“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there. 

He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.

“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong. 

“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general. 

Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.

“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”

The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall. 

The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.

He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s  wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.

Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore. 

Take care,

Kamile Dexter

The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave. 

Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well. 

With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage. 

“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.

“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ‘harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”

“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it. 

“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all. 

Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.

Did I make the right choice?

The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that. 

Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.

“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts. 

“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport. 

“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit. 

“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.” 

Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile’s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city. 

“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags. 

“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut. 

Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.

“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.

“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside. 

One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.

“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.

“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”

“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make. 

It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.

Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him. 

“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”

Of course she is.

Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.

“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.

“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.” 

Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.

“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.

“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later. 

“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.

“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her. 

“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.  

“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch. 

“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.

“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.” 

“You know I hate those things.”

“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”

“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.

“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.

“Not until you start giving me less grief.”

“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.

Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.

The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.

“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”

“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”

Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight. 

“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is. 

“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game. 

“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.” 

“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”

Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.

“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level. 

“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.

While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.

“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.” 

Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.

Day 1

The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.

Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.

“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.

It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own. 

“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”

“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore. 

“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”

Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.

“It would be faster in the car.”

“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.

“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”

“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.

The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.

Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.

“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.

Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage. 

They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again. 

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.

Day 2

Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.

The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.

“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.

In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.

“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch. 

“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.” 

They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates.  Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days. 

“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.

“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”

“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.

Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic. 

“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb. 

“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen. 

Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.

After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.

“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up. 

“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”

“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new. 

Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight. 

“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this. 

“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.

Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time. 

Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.

“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch. 

“Oh shit.” 

The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.

Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule. 

“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.

“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”

“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made. 

“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.

“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling. 

The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room. 

“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.

Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that. 

“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.

“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.

“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”

“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”

The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.

“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.

Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.

A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been. 

He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.

Day 3

Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell. 

Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower. 

Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.

“Why are you up so early?”

“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.

“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.

The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.

“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind. 

“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.

They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.

“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at. 

“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”

For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin. 

“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put. 

“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in. 

“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened. 

Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.

“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.

“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him. 

“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”

Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.

“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?” 

Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out. 

“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.” 

They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.

“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead. 

He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist. 

Until bedtime that is.

“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”

“Good night, Mingyu.”

Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet. 

“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void. 

She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up. 

Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace. 

Day 4

A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer. 

“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.

He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.

“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind. 

“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom. 

Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.

“Huh?”

“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.

“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”

“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.” 

“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”

“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.

“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”

“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.” 

Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either. 

“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation. 

“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse.��

Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time. 

Day 5

“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together. 

“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment. 

Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.

“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.

“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.

Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions. 

Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning. 

This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?

Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too? 

He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Kam?”

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom. 

Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist. 

“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.

“Good night, Kam.”

Day 6

A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them. 

Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss. 

She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.

It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.

“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”

A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely. 

“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.

Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s

They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her. 

“Let’s do it.” 

Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water.  The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss. 

“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.

“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.

“And that one?”

“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment. 

They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom. 

Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated. 

“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin. 

Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details. 

“This is what I like to hear!” She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them  until their follow-up appointment in a few days. 

Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent. 

Day 7

Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.

“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time. 

“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary. 

Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own. 

Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.

The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.

Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.

Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.

“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”

Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?” 

Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless. 

“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”