#really the only NECESSARY one is fake/pretend relationship. like do you or do you not want 46k words of widofjord fake marriage

[elftwink]

title: precipice pairing: caleb/fjord tags: fake/pretend relationship, costume parties & masquerades, implied sexual content, slow burn, not exactly canon compliant but canon adjacent, containing vague allusions to canon with no specific timeframe or setting word count: 46, 533 summary:

“So is this… worth attempting? Pretending we were invited inside and trying to sneak off to find the artifact? Especially since only one person can go inside.” “Two,” corrects Caduceus. “No plus ones,” says Nott. “Except in the case of spouses,” says Caduceus, “If you’re married, the invitation admits two.” “Caduceus!” Jester gives an overdramatic scandalized gasp. “Are you suggesting we lie about our martial status?” “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m pointing out the wording of the invitation.”

[read on ao3]

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Bend & Break - C.SC

🥺Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🥺What: coworkers. friends to fuckers. smut. 🥺Wordcount: 10k 🥺Warnings: Profanity. Sex toys. Dom!reader. Sub!Seungcheol. Petnames from reader to Cheol(baby, sweetheart, little one, good boy, babyboy). Kink discussion. Safeword discussion. Teasing. Fingering by reader to self. Cheol licks/sucks a dildo. He's very needy and desperate <3. Edging(Cheol receiving). Begging(Cheol). Cheol cries(from pleasure dw). Reader just wants to ruin Seungcheol and that's so relatable. Sort of ambigious ending I guess in regards to the future of their relationship.

Summary; You've recently been hired due to the sunshine personality you showed for an interview, purely with the intention of the company pairing you up with Seungcheol to counteract his grumpy attitude around the office. Nobody realises it's just a work persona of yours and when someone does, it's none other than Choi Seungcheol himself.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N; this story would've never happened if the wonderful @bitchlessdino hadn't taken pity on me and my empty brain and slid an idea over to me. And letting me run wild and turn it into a sub cheol smut. Thank you so much for screaming about this with me, sweetheart <3

Edited: 21/12/24

Being the new hire anywhere isn't ever really a thrilling experience for anyone. Being the new hire mostly because of the fake persona you showed at the interview is even worse. Because now, you have to keep acting like the bubbly, happy-go-lucky person you had pretended to be two months ago.

Still, the pay is good, the hours aren't gruelling and although you're part of a dozen-strong team, you share a comfortable little office with only one other person, so you figure it's not the worst trade-off.

Though you still haven't yet decided if your work partner is reason enough to change your mind about that.

Choi Seungcheol is the very reason you were hired; to counteract his frankly miserable attitude around the office. Not that he much leaves your shared office, but when he does he's likely to be glaring at whoever is making the most noise, or simply asking him a question that isn't entirely necessary.

He has the world's most severe case of resting bitch face too, which regularly causes issues with clients. So you were hired to be the pep in client meetings and steer things in the correct direction when Seungcheol is seconds from saying something that could risk the contract, or a trip to HR.

Seungcheol isn't the type to fake interest in the personal lives of clients or colleagues; he's just here to work. And honestly, you respect that a hell of a lot. But it also means you shoulder all the small talk and have to look at pictures of people's pets, kids, and holidays that you really could not give less shits about.

And all of that means that although Seungcheol is a hard worker and you're beyond happy to have a competent partner at your side, he is one of the main reasons for your rising stress levels. Just once you'd like to not have to be the smiling balm to soothe the sting of his harsh demeanour and blunt words.

Alas, Seungcheol is not going to change his ways, especially when he doesn't know that you could really do with him pulling his weight in the charm department.

Which is made very apparent on one particular day with a new client who seems to consistently bump heads with Seungcheol.

The meeting is an hour of Seungcheol's nastiest bitch face and the client's obnoxious attitude flaunting the “customer is always right” motto the company stupidly prides itself on. You want to tell the client to go fuck himself on more than one occasion throughout the meeting, but you can't seeing as you'd like to be able to keep receiving a pay check.

As soon as the meeting is over, Seungcheol is out of there, no doubt halfway back to your shared office before you can even exit the little conference room thanks to the client deciding that “you just have to visit the resort I vacationed in. Here, let me show you the site”. So you're stuck pretending to be interested in the fancy foreign resort that the client shows you on his phone for the next handful of minutes before you can finally leave.

After all that you really need a break, so instead of going straight back to your office you walk straight past it and to the supply room for your floor.

Once inside the small room of shelving units full of various office supplies, you just stand there, eyes squeezed closed and hands tight on your hips while you focus on trying to calm yourself down with some deep breathing.

You're so focused that you don't hear the door open a few minutes later. The gentle tap of shoes on the hard flooring has your eyes snapping open and over to where Seungcheol, of all people, is standing with one hand raised to grab a new packet of printer paper, but his attention is entirely on you. He looks bewildered; one eyebrow raised and the other scrunched a little with his head tilted slightly.

You immediately slap on your usual bright smile, entirely fake but nobody has ever noticed that before, and grab a new, empty folder from the shelf near you. “I didn't know we need new paper already, I would've grabbed it myself if I knew,” you chirp, already walking towards the exit but the room isn't wide enough for there to be enough space around Seungcheol for you to just breeze on by like you want to. And he doesn't step aside either.

“Well, guess everyone's favourite isn't all sunshine and rainbows after all,” he replies with a smug smirk. “I wonder how everyone will react to knowing the truth about you.

“I don't know what you mean, Seungcheol.” You smile sweetly then skirt around him and leave before he can say anything else so you can return to your shared office to get to work on the new client file.

You expect Seungcheol to say something when he returns; to try and taunt you and goad you some more yet he doesn't say a thing, he just silently refills the paper in the printer and gets back to work.

For a whole week, Seungcheol has you on edge; he keeps smirking at you knowingly and making vague comments around others in what you know is an attempt to get you to break. But you hold on strong and don't show a single sign that the you everyone in the office knows, isn't you at all.

It's pretty much a week to the exact minute that you break. Another meeting with that same client that goes about as well as the first has you back in the supply room counting your breaths.

You're very certain that your printer does not need more paper already when you look over at the footsteps entering the small room.

Seungcheol isn't even pretending to be there for any reason other than to watch you break. He's leaning against the unit on his right with his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smirk on his face.

And finally, enough is enough.

“You need to fucking stop,” you warn. His face lights up in victory at you not even attempting to put on the higher, friendlier pitch you use at work; your customer service voice that you even use for your colleagues. “Seriously, Seungcheol, stop it,” you reiterate while heading towards the exit.

This time, Seungcheol purposely stands in your path and looks down at you arrogantly. “Are you going to admit that you're not the innocent little sweetheart that everyone thinks you are?”

You take a breath as you stare back at him just so you don't break too far. “You don't even know the half of it,” you retort simply.

Seungcheol stares back at you curiously for a few seconds before stepping aside to watch you go, wondering what exactly that means and how he can find out for himself.

After that second incident in the supply room, you figure there's really not any point in keeping up the facade with Seungcheol so when it's just the two of you in your private office, you let the persona drop.

The first time you swear to yourself in complaint over your work, Seungcheol gawps at you in shock until you notice and raise an eyebrow at him. But he says nothing and doesn't react after that time except the occasional amused smile to himself as he hears you curse colourfully at much more regular intervals than he ever does.

And Seungcheol lets you see more of the real him too.

The two of you have always met outside of work for the sake of finishing tasks or discussing clients without being confined to the same four walls of your office. You'd get dinner or he'd come over to your apartment to go over documents in your office for however long necessary. But it was always about work.

Though now that he knows who you really are, it's not always about work; your conversations over dinner turn more friendly, enough that you see him smiling genuinely and laughing for the first time. And he doesn't stop either.

A genuine friendship quickly blossoms between the pair of you, allowing you to be yourselves to the extent that on more than one occasion Seungcheol has turned big, pleading puppy eyes on you with a pout to convince you to go where he wants for dinner, or even when he's complaining about his friends and being whiny, the big eyes hit you.

And the way they hit you is really not something you think you should think about the man, so you shove the thoughts of pinning him down and telling him what to do out of your mind.

The friendship between you is noticed by your colleagues too. It's kind of hard to miss the way that you're the only person who can get Seungcheol to join work dinners, after all.

You both know that there's a 'secret' betting pool going around the office in regard to whether you two are secretly dating or not; Jeonghan is not as slick as he thinks at hiding the bet sheet. And for fun, sometimes you and Seungcheol will purposely let your fingers brush over one another or let your gazes linger longer than they should, just to watch your coworkers try to not visibly flail at what they think are moments of you two failing to hide your relationship.

Though mostly, your close relationship means that when one of you is invited to drinks, dinner or some other activity with colleagues, you'll both turn up. Even if neither of you want to. But you dug a hole with your fake persona and refuse to be buried in it alone so always drag Seungcheol in to suffer with you.

Which leads us to the day that you well and truly snap.

It's one of those days where if something can go wrong, it will, topped with shitty clients and colleagues who will just not let you have five minutes of peace.

By the end of the day, you're wound so tight that all you want to do is go home and give yourself some good old-fashioned stress relief on one of your favourite toys. But this day doesn't allow you even that.

It's another casual team dinner that you can't get out of; it's to celebrate Mingyu's birthday and well, even if you're in a shitty mood, the giant puppy of a man is such a sweetheart that you truly would feel bad about ditching him to masturbate.

So you get into Seungcheol's car like usual after work, go to the restaurant and sit at his side at the table while silently praying that this will not be a complete shit show.

Two hours later, you're really at the end of your fucking rope. You really had been naive to even hope that this team dinner wouldn't be as rowdy and chaotic as all the rest. Your colleagues are a lot on the best of days with nothing to celebrate, so when they have an excuse to drink they really go for it. You're always surprised when the group isn't kicked out of public spaces, honestly.

The only ones not drinking are you and Seungcheol. Neither of you ever drink at these gatherings; you claim that you just don't drink in general while Seungcheol flat-out refuses without any attempt at an excuse. Really, you both don't want to risk encouraging the group to invite either of you out for more than just the company-related dinners, so not drinking sort of keeps the team in general at arm's length. Though both of you do have a few drinks when it's just the two of you and you can let yourselves relax in trusted, comfortable company.

But this is not that, this is you sitting side by side with Seungcheol blessedly keeping his mouth shut while you try not to break and tell everyone to shut the fuck up before leaving.

You do, however, take solace in the bathroom a few times, using the cold water to cool you down before going back into what tonight feels like your own personal hell.

On your latest trip out of the bathroom Seungcheol passes you, heading to empty his own bladder. He smirks at you and murmurs something in your ear as you pass one another. You can't even tell what he says; your brain is so heavy with fuzzy tension that his words don't register at all. But they don't need to, you know he's teasing you about your temper; he's done it before many times. Usually, you'd just joke back at him and point out his own, but tonight you don't have it in you.

Your gaze turns icy on him in a second causing him to come to an abrupt stop. You don't linger, don't slow and just turn and settle your expression back to your facade before rejoining the drunken group.

When Seungcheol returns, he timidly slips into his seat on your right silently in an attempt to not anger you further. Though a few seconds later, the tip of his left pinkie brushes the edge of your right elbow where it's resting on the tabletop, his hand sort of hooked on the edge of the table close to you yet out of sight of your colleagues.

You turn your head to look at Seungcheol and find him looking at you with those fucking giant doe eyes, silently asking for forgiveness. But you don't give it, just turn back around to watch your coworkers making absolute fools of themselves.

Yet your mind is stuck on Seungcheol's innocent expression and timid posture and all you can think about is how much you'd love to make him squirm and beg under your attention. It's riling you up in a way you usually keep such a tight lid on, but considering how tense you already are tonight, that lid is bowing and shaking under the building pressure and you know it'll blow soon enough.

For the first time since meeting Seungcheol, being in his passenger seat isn't a very pleasant experience. Neither of you say a word for the entire fourteen-minute drive from the restaurant to your apartment, and that in itself isn't unusual, but usually there isn't this thick tension hanging between you two.

When Seungcheol pulls up in front of your building, you turn to look at him. He has both hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the space between his hands with clearly no intention of doing more than just dropping you off at home despite the fact he usually goes straight inside with you to hang out some more.

And honestly, it's probably best if he does go straight home and leaves you to deal with your tension alone. But it's not exactly an option.

“You need to check those documents ready for Monday,” you remind. Seungcheol lets out a reluctant breath but relocates the car to the parking lot in silent agreement.

Once in your apartment, the two of you remove your shoes and jackets to put them in their usual places.

It's kind of insane to you that Seungcheol is at your apartment enough that there is literally space on the low shoe rack for him to leave his shoes, and a gap on the pegs for his work jacket, there's even one of his casual jackets already there on the next peg. You don't really have any close friends, nobody you deem worth your time to allow into your life frequently enough to have a usual place in your home.

There isn't anything said between you as you walk through to your office where you lean over onto the desk to boot up your computer while Seungcheol hovers awkwardly a little behind you.

While waiting for the system to accept your password for the work files, you look over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. He stares back at you dumbly until you give him a look and motion to the chair on your right with a silent tilt of your head.

In seconds, Seungcheol's ass meets the seat and he stares up at you with big, obedient eyes, his hands laced together and trapped between his thick thighs.

It's all rather dangerous considering how close you are to snapping and overstepping the boundaries neither of you had ever verbally set up between you but are always in place in platonic relationships. Even if you want nothing more than to destroy them right now, and Seungcheol too.

So you turn back to your computer with gritted teeth, open the relevant documents and motion to the computer vaguely before leaving the room entirely.

You go straight to the kitchen to down a glass of water as cold as you can stand it before splashing more on your face, then dragging a cold, wet hand on the back of your neck needing all the help you can currently get to cool down in every sense of the word.

It doesn't work.

By the time Seungcheol is done with the documents and shuffles into the kitchen, you're standing with both hands on the counter in front of you while staring darkly at nothing in particular, jaw tense and an attempt in your breathing to try and regulate your emotions.

“I finished it, it's all ready to send off,” he informs, coming to a stop a few metres away, not as close as he'd usually stand but still closer than sensible if he knew the depravity in your mind right now.

“Good,” you return simply without even looking at him.

He huffs a soft laugh. “No thank you?” He jokes, but you can't see the humour at all. Not when you're feeling like this.

“Thank you?” You repeat flatly before turning your dark gaze to him as you straighten and lean off of the counter. He swallows thickly and takes a step back when you take one towards him, prompting him to keep reversing. “Why should I thank you for doing your fucking job, huh?”

Seungcheol's mouth opens and closes with an attempt to try and say something, some kind of a “just joking” explanation but all he manages are vague sputters of sound that cut off abruptly when his back hits the wall and you're standing right in front of him. He's taller than you by a handful of inches but right now, he feels so fucking small and he's surprised by how much he likes it.

"Well?" You prompt, well aware that he had tried to explain himself; his pathetic stammering was very obvious and gave away that you’re intimidating him.

Though based on the big innocent eyes on you paired with the prettiest of pink tints to his cheeks, you think that perhaps intimidation isn't all it is.

And it's just pushing you to keep pushing him until he breaks because you know that he'll break so fucking beautifully.

“I'm sorry,” he finally manages to squeak out.

“You think that's good enough? You think you can just give me empty words and all is forgiven? Oh, baby, you really don't know me at all.”

He just stares at you dumbly; mouth dry and pupils dilating further and further with every act you make. 

It's far from the Seungcheol you see at work and that thought sort of douses you in icy water. This isn't normal for either of you.

Well, it's not unusual behaviour for you with partners at all, but he doesn't know that. Besides, he's your work partner and friend, not a sexual partner.

“Shit.” You sigh and back up a little. “You should go, I'm clearly not in the right frame of mind and if you stay, I'll go too far.” You try to move even further away to give him space to leave, yet you're stopped by your shirt pulling tight around your back. You look down and find both of Seungcheol's hands gripping the hem of your untucked shirt, his fingers trembling a little. You look back up with a questioning eyebrow.

“ don't want to leave,” he admits quietly as his cheeks darken slightly.

“No?” He shakes his head shyly. “You know what it means if you stay, right? You know what I want to do to you?” You check a little worriedly.

“Uhm...dom me?”

You huff a laugh. “I want to ruin you, baby.” His eyes light with interest. “You want that? Big scary Choi Seungcheol wants little ol' me to pin him down and make him cry?” You tease while running a finger over his jaw.

His mouth opens wider and his tongue appears with the tip pressed against his lip as if reaching for your touch. You don't give it to him even if you think he'll look precious with your fingers in his mouth.

You pull your hands away and cross your arms over your chest. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, Seungcheol.” Your voice is firm and your expression is the same on him.

“Y-yes!” He rushes out. “I-I want you to do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“Use me.” You hadn't said those words yourself, but you like them a hell of a lot. “Push me down and use me to make yourself feel good. Make me cry, ruin me. Please just...do something,” he's begging by now, not as strongly as he could be, still holding back a lot but you're pretty sure it's all very new for him.

You need to check though before anything goes any further. “Have you ever done anything like this before? Subbed?”

He shakes his head a little. “No, it's usually the other way.”

“Figures.” You huff a laugh then reach down to remove his hands from your shirt to take one into your own hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to your bedroom, though let him go in the middle of the floor to walk over and sit on the edge of your bed. He fidgets when you just stare at him contemplatively, your eyes dark and calculating as you lean back on your palms behind you with your legs crossed over at the ankles comfortably.

When he starts to fiddle with the hem of his shirt nervously, you speak up deeming him desperate enough with his cheeks a magnificent dark pink. “What're your limits, Cheolie?”

The nickname is new but he likes it. It feels fitting somehow.

“Uh.” He has to stop and think for a moment. He isn't sure exactly what his limits are for certain in this situation because he doesn't know what he likes in the submissive role, but there are some things he knows he'll never be okay with so he starts there. “Bodily fluids outside of spit and cum.”

“So you don't mind being spat on with your own cum?”

“Uh, I mean, I think I'm okay with it,” he offers awkwardly; uncertain but trying his hardest to be open and honest.

“How about eating it?”

“Uh...I don't know about that.”

“Okay.” You easily accept his response and move on. “What else? Pain?”

“I don't know; I've never received it before. If you want to try it I'm willing just… not too intense.”

“Hmm, we'll see. Edging? Overstimulation?” Those options have him hesitating as he genuinely considers them both. And then, he nods slowly, shyly. “I asked a question, Seungcheol.”

“Y-yes, to both.”

“Good, because that's my favourite thing to do to my little ones,” you coo. “Pick a safe word.”

“Uh, can we use the traffic light system? Red for stop, green for carry on?”

“Sure thing,” you agree easily; it was familiar enough to you after all. “What do you use for uncertain? Some people say yellow, some orange, some amber.”

“Whatever.”

“Pick one,” it's a demand he quickly obeys.

“Amber.”

“Good boy.” He visibly preens a little at the praise, which you make a mental note of. “Are you clean? Sexually, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“And that's a recent test since your last sexual partner?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I won't touch you without that confirmation and luckily, I trust you to be honest so you don't need to show me proof like I usually demand.”

“You trust me?” He asks softly, awed by the words and the weight they carry.

You hum and nod in confirmation. “More than anyone else.”

“Oh.” He smiles down at his hands happily. “I feel the same about you too.”

“I imagine so, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be willing to do this if you didn't,” you tease.

“Ah, yeah, true.” He chuckles and rubs his neck shyly.

You let him stew in his minor embarrassment for a second before talking again. “Degradation?” He looks up at you at that. “How do you feel about that?”

“I might cry,” he admits honestly, making you laugh a little at the blunt way he speaks the words. “I don't like being called names or looked down on.”

“Okay, baby, none of that,” you assure.

“Thank you.”

“Mm, of course, I have to make this good for you too. And I do love that you use your manners without being prompted. Such a good boy, huh?” His eyes round out again at you and the semi-casual air between you dissipating with your slightly teasing tone. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, Cheolie?”

“Yes, I'll be good for you.”

“Then strip.” He blinks at you a few times at the abrupt demand; the way your tone changes from light to borderline hard with no room for arguments.

Slowly, Seungcheol's slightly shaky fingers first remove his tie, and then his shirt, exposing his broad, muscle-thick torso to you. He knows he looks good, that his body is worth ogling but your dark eyes still make him feel shy.

Still, he continues, his top half entirely bare and moving onto his belt.

Something about the way he opens it and pulls it free from the loops of his slacks is really attractive to you. You can easily imagine him teasing his own sub as he removes his belt before grabbing the ends to turn it on their backside when he bends them over. Maybe you could break for him too; if he turns out to be a good enough fuck this time that is.

For now, you're more than content to watch him open his button and zipper and let his trousers drop to his ankles. He bends down to remove them from around his feet, taking his socks off too and then he straightens up and looks at you. You can tell he's hesitant to remove his boxers by the way his fingers fiddle with the waistband over his hips for a few seconds.

There's a part of you that wants to let him off easy for now and allow him to keep his boxers on for a little while. But the bigger part of you really doesn't want to do that so you continue to silently watch him.

Seungcheol lowers his head to look down at his underwear for a second, then he looks at you through his eyelashes still hoping you'll take pity on him. You don't. So he looks back down as he takes a long breath in before he hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and starts to push the material down.

You watch with rapt attention as the final piece of the beautiful, thick-built puzzle that is Choi Seungcheol is revealed to you inch by glorious inch. You have to admit, he's fucking gorgeous and it does a lot to you. Makes you throb between your thighs as they clench for a second while he's distracted focusing on removing his boxers from his legs.

And then he's entirely bare and looking at you shyly, fingers on his right hand picking at the nails of his left in nervous wait.

“C'mere,” you murmur. Seungcheol stumbles over and when you nod to the floor, he slowly lowers to his knees, letting his hands hover over his rapidly hardening dick. That is like the rest of him; thick and unfairly beautiful.

At this rate, you can't tell who is going to ruin who.

“Don't hide from me.” You unfold your legs just to gently tap at his hands with your socked foot before settling it flat on the floor beside his left knee.

A little reluctantly, Seungcheol moves his hands aside to place them on the tops of his thighs and allow you the full view of his kneeled form.

“Mm, much better, good boy.” The praise straightens his posture a little. “You're so beautiful, babyboy, don't deprive me of such a gorgeous view, hm?”

“Ah, fuck,” he softly breathes out; a little overwhelmed by the unexpected compliments, which he just knows are genuine from your tone and expression on him. You clearly like what you see and it makes his dick jump a little against his thigh. You smirk at the visible response; you've always known that Seungcheol loves compliments and praise but you didn't know just how much.

“Shall we even things out a little?” You suggest, already getting up to your feet in front of him.

He watches you with rapt attention as you open your trousers and shimmy them down. His gaze is too focused on the skin of your thighs coming into sight that he doesn't realise that you've pushed your panties down with your trousers to save yourself time. At least until you sit back down on the edge of the bed when the material is around your knees.

“Off,” you demand.

Seungcheol's hands immediately reach out to hook his fingers over the combined waistbands and pull them off of your slightly raised legs. It's when he's setting them aside that he notices the white material inside of the black of your trousers and freezes.

Mindlessly, he moves one hand to pull on the white material and quickly looks at you with wide eyes and his mouth parted. You just raise an eyebrow in return, silently prompting him to snap back to his task and move the material aside entirely so that he can carefully remove your socks too.

“Good boy.”

Just to tease, you sit there for a good almost twenty seconds with your legs closed most of the way, just the slightest gap between your thighs but it's not big enough for him to see anything but a dark shadow.

To your surprise, he actually gives in first. “Please?” He begs softly, looking up at you pleadingly. “Please let me see your pussy.”

“Oh, how can I refuse such good manners?” You coo and spread your legs causing his gaze to drop back down between them. Though he whines when he realises that your shirt is long enough to mostly cover you and shadow the rest. “You make such cute sounds, Cheolie.”

“Don't tease me,” he complains.

“I'll do what I want and you'll be grateful for it.” He presses his lips together looking fully scolded and stares at you in wait. He's impatient, that's very obvious but he's doing his best to stick to this new dynamic.

Honestly, he's taking to it a lot better than you had expected, or hoped, considering all that you know about Choi Seungcheol; so instead of prolonging it any longer, you lift the hem of your shirt out of the way with one hand.

Seungcheol's lips part when his eyes land back between your thighs and take in the sight of you fully exposed to him. Automatically, his hands lift with every intention of putting them on your thighs to push your legs open further while he leans in licking his lips.

But you stop him with your free hand, a finger pressed to his forehead. “I didn't say you can touch.” You grin amusedly at his dumb-aroused expression; his mouth open and tongue hanging out a little.

“Can I taste?” He requests, putting his hands back on his thighs but not leaning back. Your slightly condescending laugh makes him pout. When you nudge his forehead under your index finger, he leans back into a sulky slouch.

“Your job is to sit there and look pretty for me,” you point out, now using that same finger to trail up your inner thigh. Seungcheol's pout melts away as he watches its path intently. He audibly inhales sharply when it drags through your folds. He groans a little when he sees the shine now on the digit and wishes it was his tongue getting doused in your arousal.

Even though you very much would enjoy an orgasm or two sooner rather than later, you continue to tease yourself with one finger; barely brushing over your clit and circling your hole but never pushing in. It's more to tease Seungcheol and the squirming of his body perhaps turns you on more than your own actions.

Either way, when you do finally give in and plunge your finger inside, you're wet enough that it's more than easy and honestly, not very satisfying past the initial relief of having something in you finally.

Though that relief passes very quickly so soon you're adding a second finger and watching Seungcheol chew on his bottom lip hard enough that you think he's going to break skin any second. You really don't want that, so you pull your fingers out and reach towards him. The speed at which he leans it with his mouth opening genuinely makes you laugh.

“Oh, baby, you are desperate, huh?” You tease and adjust your hand so that your thumb presses against his bottom lip and your slick fingers are not close enough to his mouth to get even the hint of a taste. “You're not getting a taste, I just don't want you to hurt those pretty lips.” The expression he lands on you is utterly heartbroken. “Stop biting or I'll gag you, understand?”

“I...I understand,” he agrees, so you let him go and return your fingers back to yourself, though Seungcheol doesn't lean back. In this position, his head is pretty much between your knees, which you spread a little wider and he takes as permission to scoot a little closer. You don't mind at all, he'll just be teasing himself more with a closer view after all.

Your intention with fingering yourself isn't to reach orgasm at all, mostly you just want to tease Seungcheol by showing him what he can't have, though you also do want to prepare yourself. When you're able to easily take three fingers, you remove them and get up.

“Wh-where are you going?” He worries, hands lifting from his thighs but only hovering a few inches away from his own body. He wants to reach out and stop you from walking away but he knows he can't. You still haven't given him permission to touch yet and he really doesn't want to be scolded again, let alone face any kind of punishment you may give him if he disobeys a direct order. He's horny, not stupid.

“I'll be right back, just sit there and wait like a good boy, sweetheart,” your voice is gentle in order to soothe him that you are, in fact, not planning to actually leave and end things here as he fears.

You quickly grab something from a case in the chest of drawers before returning. You sit back down and open your thighs again, but Seungcheol's gaze is glued to the pale blue dildo in your hand.

“What do you think?” You muse, leaning down to hold it near to his erection in comparison. “Ah, not quite as thick as you.” You sigh dramatically and straighten back up. “That's a shame; it's as close as I've got though, so it'll have to do.” You pout theatrically as you trace the tip of the silicone toy over your slick folds; it's a little cold and jarring but you do your best to ignore it. Besides, the temperature difference isn't something you're entirely against.

Vaguely, you wonder if Seungcheol would be into temperature play; you've never tried it before but you've always been interested in both giving and receiving.

Seungcheol wants to make a retort, say that instead of settling for a toy that wouldn't stretch you like his thick cock would, you could just use his. He'd fuck you however you want and probably thank you for it at this point; he's throbbing with need and leaking on his thigh. He doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on in his life. But he can't talk, can't say a fucking thing as he watches the head of the toy breach you.

He was wrong before, now he's more turned on than he's ever been as he watches the way the girth of the toy spears you open.

Your breath catches a little so he looks up at you and once again corrects himself because your expression is what wet dreams are fucking made of. Your mouth is parted and your eyes are closed, your head tipped back slightly and your cheeks pink with pleasure.

You let out a curse under your breath so he looks back down and swears in the same fashion when he sees that you have entirely embedded the toy within you, just the slightly flared base in your fingers still.

“Fuck,” he curses again when you start to pull the toy out slowly and he sees how you've drenched it. Your eyes open to look down at him with an amused lopsided grin. He doesn't notice though, he's too entranced by the show less than a metre in front of his face.

Seungcheol doesn't notice the way he naturally moves a hand towards his crotch with the intention of soothing his aching cock, but you do. “Stop,” you demand, stopping your own motions of fucking into yourself slowly to let yourself get used to the toy's length and girth fully.

“Huh?” He looks up at you confused with his mouth wide open.

“I didn't give you permission to touch your cock, Seungcheol.”

“What?” He looks down and notices the hand inches from his dick. “Oh.” He hesitates but obediently puts his hand back on his thigh before looking up at you shyly. “I-I didn't realise. I'm sorry.”

“Feeling that needy?” You smirk and get back to fucking yourself on the toy. He lets out a sound, a mix between a whimper and a groan as he looks back down at your pussy. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, I've never been this turned on before,” he admits in a rush of syllables. “Wanna fuck you so much,” he whines, fingers curling into fists which he presses down onto his thighs almost harshly in an attempt to behave for you.

He wants to be good for you. Wants to be your good boy. But it's so fucking hard when you look so fucking good. Look like your pussy would take him so well and make a fucking mess of him.

All he wants is to get up, throw that toy aside and sink his cock into you and feel your slick, heated walls around him. He's fucking convinced that your pussy would be perfect for him.

But he can't, and that's really hard for him to accept and handle when he's usually the one in charge during sex.

“Think you can make me feel better than this?” You taunt a little and pick up speed, letting your pleasure show through with little pleased sounds that really do not help Seungcheol's self-control at all. He moves a little closer yet doesn't touch either of you the way he wants to.

He's obviously trying his hardest and that, you think, is more than enough when honestly, you really want his cock in you as much as he wants to put it in you.

“Yes,” there's not an ounce of hesitation in his answer, he's entirely confident in his abilities, in his thick cock.

Usually, you'd roll your eyes and dismiss that confidence from a man because they're notoriously cocky with nothing to back up their claims. Part of the reason you got into domming is because men don't know how to use their dicks, so you always get more pleasure when you're on top and controlling how your walls are pummelled.

But there's something about Seungcheol that tells you that he's not like other men. He can and will fuck you right given the chance. Still, you want to be on top in every way.

“Big talk, little one.” You huff a laugh, most of your breath affected by the pleasure of the toy you're using to hit all of those good spots inside of you with every thrust. You're not being as rough as you could be, as you often tend to be when you feel like this, but you're talking and know that you have no space left in your chest for words when you truly fuck yourself.

“Let me prove it,” he pleads. “Please, just let me fuck you and I promise you'll cum hard.”

“I'll cum hard regardless,” you hum. His expression twists in displeasure knowing that you are truly dismissing his offer. “Maybe another time,” you counteroffer, not liking that downtrodden expression at all.

He looks up at you with hope glistening his dark gaze. “Yeah?” He asks with a surprised exhale.

“If you do good enough for me this time.” You pull the toy out and point it at him. Seungcheol eyes it and licks his lips. “What? You wanna suck it?” You taunt.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs.

“Enough to suck my cock?”

He glances up at you then looks back down and nods, licking his lips again. “Yeah, can I? Please?”

“Seeing as you asked so nicely,” you approve and touch the silicone toy to his bottom lip.

Seungcheol's tongue immediately darts out to pass over the silicone and get his first taste of you. His eyes roll back and he groans before he very enthusiastically starts to drag his mouth over the toy. He moves up the length along every side, not actually putting the toy into his mouth really, but this is absurdly hot enough as it is.

It turns you on much more than you had anticipated seeing this handsome man pretty much going feral for your taste that he'll messily lave his tongue over the dildo with his eyes closed in bliss and constant streams of groans of approval vibrating out of his throat.

And when he moves back to the tip and wraps his lips around it, genuinely sucking on the fake-cock, well that's as much as you can handle. You pull it away without warning creating a pop before Seungcheol looks at you half dazed, half betrayed with a smidge of confusion.

“Get on the bed,” you demand, getting up and walking around to one side of the bed while unbuttoning your shirt.

Seungcheol doesn't even have to think; there's no mental input on his behalf as he jumps up. His legs almost give out under him as the blood rushes back into his limbs after sitting on them in one position for a prolonged period, but he powers through to practically throw himself onto the mattress.

“On your back.” He crawls and shuffles until he's on his back with his head on the pillows and chest rising and falling heavily already in anticipation.

Seungcheol's heavy gaze remains on you as you reveal your body entirely. He lets out a shaky exhale when you're fully bare and climbing up onto the mattress at his left. “You're beautiful,” he says in a tone that is far too affectionate for what is going on here.

It makes you pause for a moment and look carefully at his gaze. He still looks ridiculously horny but there's something else there now; a touch of fond that genuinely sort of worries you.

Of course, you are fond of Seungcheol; he's a very precious friend to you but your feelings don't extend further than that, further than platonic and sexual. You really hope that the fondness you see is nothing more than a reflection of your own feelings and nothing more. Him having romantic feelings could certainly complicate matters more than adding sex into the mix will.

Sex you can navigate with your eyes closed, but feelings? That's an entirely different circus.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” His hopeful tone brings you back to reality. He hasn't even noticed your hesitation for what it truly is and just assumes you're teasing him further.

“Not today,” you answer, silently deciding to just give you both what you want right now and have an actual discussion later when you're both not horny messes.

“Oh.” His lips purse into a pout but then you retrieve a condom from the side table drawer and he lights up again. “Oh!” You let out a soft amused sound at his excited reaction and straddle his thighs while opening the wrapper. “Can I touch myself?” You give him an unimpressed look. “Just to help!” He assures.

“Mm, sure, I'll allow that,” you agree. Seungcheol has his dick in hand as soon as the words are slipping from your lips and holding it upright for you. You notice the way he shudders a little at his own touch on his aching cock and don't berate him for the subtle stroke he gives himself as he rolls the rubber down his length once you put it at his tip. “Good boy,” you hum, tossing the foil aside carelessly.

“For you,” he answers, wide eyes watching as you move up his body to hover over his length that he's still holding upright. “Please.” He doesn't even realise he says it, but you do and decide you've both waited more than long enough.

As soon as you start to slide down his cock, Seungcheol's eyes roll back and his hands fly out to grip your hips tightly. It feels pretty nice so you allow it, at least for now, it's kind of stabilising to have his strong grasp centring you while his cock splits you open.

Although it hadn't looked that much bigger than your toy, you can certainly feel the difference in girth right now. Plus the fact that Seungcheol is so fucking hard in you compared to the slight give of the toy, well you're already so close to an orgasm it's kind of ridiculous.

It takes you both a handful of seconds of heavy breathing to gather yourselves when you're fully impaled on his length and seated on his hips. You don't even try to keep any weight off of him; you're certain he can handle it and even if you weren't, your legs are already weak enough from the feeling of him stretching you out even still like this that you doubt you could hold yourself up if you tried.

You haven't realised that your eyes had closed until you've got some of your breath back, enough to have a mind clear enough to want to look down at him. His eyes are closed; he's struggling more than you, which doesn't surprise you considering how you hadn't allowed him any touch until now.

Carefully, you remove Seungcheol's grip from your hips and lean over to pin his hands up by his head. The new angle has his cock hitting a delicious spot within you and you can't help but grind down against him to gain friction against it. This angle also means that your clit is rubbing against his body with every roll of your hips.

Seungcheol barely manages to open his eyes and look at you before they roll back again with pleasure as you moan over him, fingers gripping onto his wrists with your full weight. He doesn't mind at all, doesn't really register it considering you're so wet and hot and tight around him that he truly cannot focus on anything else. Yet even if he could register it, he wouldn't give a single fuck. You could crush him and he'd be into it right now.

“D-don't cum,” you order when you feel your orgasm right on the brink, eyes opening to peer down at him. His own fly open in pained disbelief. “Un-fuck-understand, Seungcheol?” He whines but nods obediently. The agreement of restraint sends you over. Pleasure shocks through your body making it jerk a little, mouth open with broken higher-pitched moans coming out.

Seungcheol's whole body tenses and his face screws up tightly as you clamp down around him. He's never fought an orgasm before but you told him not to cum and he's not going to let you down now.

He's shaking by the time you slump over him, forehead dropping to his shoulder as you fight to suck air back into your lungs, just the occasional tiny twitch of your hips when a fresh lick of pleasure shoots through you with the aftershocks of an intense orgasm.

“Did you cum?” You check another few moments later.

It takes Seungcheol a few attempts to answer, just grunts coming out at first but you wait patiently. “No,” he manages while flexing his fingers to give him something else to focus on.

“Good boy,” you praise and press a kiss to his neck. His breath catches at the unexpected action but then you do it again, and again, and again as you adjust yourself while leaning up to look down at him with your hands now on the mattress and not pressing down against his wrists in a tight grip.

You take a look at them and are relieved that there's only slight redness right now, so you're pretty sure he won't bruise. Still, you'll keep an eye on it just in case.

“You did so well, Cheolie.” You hum and cup his jaw. His lip trembles a little, eyes so big on you and soaking in the praise. It helps his shaking lessen as he relaxes from doing his utmost not to cum with the fluttering of your walls around him. “Think you can hold out longer for me, baby?”

“I...ye-yeah.” He isn't sure but he's sure he'll try his best for you. He really wants to be your good boy. Your best boy.

“Yeah?” You smile softly, pleased. He nods and smiles back a little in a natural reaction to seeing you happy with him. “That's my boy.” You tap his nose, then straighten up to sit on his hips with your hands on his solid abs. “I'm going to ride you now, okay baby?”

He nods shakily and sticks his hands under the pillow to grip it. “O-okay.”

“Colour?” He blinks at you confusedly a few times. “What colour are you right now, sweetheart?”

“Oh, green,” he answers. “Green.” The repetition makes your lips quirk up. It's oddly endearing that he's assuring you right now considering he's the one missing an orgasm.

“Good, tell me if that changes, okay?” He nods. You let him get away with not verbally responding this time and start to lift yourself up.

Seungcheol's gaze falls to watch his length appear from your dripping pussy utterly mesmerised. Up until you abruptly drop yourself back down, ass smacking down on his upper thighs audibly.

A loud, low moan tears from his open mouth as his back arches upwards. He looks fucking beautiful like this. You have to keep making him do that so you don't hesitate to lift and drop in the very same way; taking up a punishing rhythm that has his cock dragging against your walls in the most incredible of ways.

Honestly, you're half convinced his cock just being in you has you halfway to a constant orgasm because that ball in your lower stomach winds up tight so fucking quickly that you barely register it until it's there, urging you over but this isn't quite enough for you. You need clitoral stimulation but you don't think it's wise to give it to yourself right now with Seungcheol buried within you and his body trembling as he still holds back with everything in him.

At this point, he's babbling a little in amongst his constant stream of porn-worthy moans. You're not quite sure what he's saying really, you're not sure that he even knows what he's saying either.

If you cum with him inside you, you're positive that he will too regardless of your words so you pull off of him. His eyes instantly fly open in alarm and he looks at you as he lifts his head up. You just settle down again along his latex-covered cock to grind along the length.

He gasps and shudders watching his cock peek out through your slick folds. “Please, please,” he begs; his babbles now making sense while he's not overwhelmed with the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This is still a lot for him but he's much more able to be a good boy for you now. He really wants to make you proud of him. He doesn't want you to think he's a bad boy for cumming without permission, because then you won't play with him again and he really doesn't want that. He wants to be your good boy. Your only good boy.

You know what he's begging for even if he doesn't voice it. You'll make him say it in a minute but right now you're seconds from a second orgasm and unless he says red you're not going to stop.

Even though the orgasm is yours entirely, Seungcheol moans when you do as he watches your face contort with utter bliss as your hips jerk over his length a few more times before falling still. It's not quite as powerful as your first orgasm, not when you're empty, but it's still intense and leaves you breathless.

Initially, you had planned to give yourself many more orgasms before letting Seungcheol cum but you genuinely think if you draw more than one more out of yourself, you'll pass out. You don't know if it's because it's been a while and you've been so pent up that it feels so mind-numbingly incredible, or if it's because of the thick cock pressed up against you.

“Colour?” You pant out when you feel ready to go again, eyes landing on Seungcheol.

He doesn't hesitate to answer this time but he finally sounds wrecked, voice hoarse and cracking a little with the simple single-syllable response. “Green.”

“Okay.” You push up and gently lift his cock up to line with you, applying as little pressure as possible to try not to give him too much too soon and overwhelm him in the wrong way. “Positive?” He nods rapidly so you begin to impale yourself again. His breaths come in one long juddering inhale as you slide down his length until he's sheathed inside of you.

“Please,” he goes right back to pleading, levelling you with such a begging, wet gaze that you know that this will not last long at all.

“Please what, baby?” You question, lifting to ride him slowly, now focused on him and him alone yet not wanting to push him over too fast. He looks too pretty like this; skin blotched with reds and pinks in a way that makes you wish you had discussed marks beforehand so that you could leave some lovebites on his pecs.

But you hadn't, and asking for permission at this point is utterly pointless, Seungcheol is too gone to be able to give full consent to anything new. You're pretty sure he'd say yes to anything right now so long as he can cum.

“Lemmecum.”

“Hm? What was that, speak clearly.”

Seungcheol whines and sniffles. “I wanna c-cum. P-please.” He blinks rapidly as the tears gathering in his eyes overflow and spill down his temples onto the pillow under him. “Please-please l-let me c-cum,” he chokes out, close to full-on sobbing.

You give in. You want to make him cry, not sob his poor heart out, after all. “You can cum,” you consent.

Seungcheol freezes for a split second in genuine shock, but then his eyes roll back and his back bows, biceps bulging as he grips the pillow so tight and pulls it up a little with the strength of his orgasm. He almost yells your name he moans so loud in pleasure and relief as the intense climax takes over his body.

You continue to move on him slowly to ride him through it, and then a little out the other side when he flops back against the sheets and raggedly sucks in harsh breaths with only short exhales. You'd continue with the intention to overstimulate him if he wasn't laid utterly boneless and not even reacting to you anymore. It's boring to overstimulate someone with no response, after all.

He doesn't even react when you carefully pull off of him and remove the condom to tie off and dispose of in the bin beside your bedside table. You stand beside the bed on weak legs for a second to watch him in wonder and decide that he truly is too out of it right now to even notice your presence; so you dart off to get a large glass of water and drink some yourself, and a damp cloth before returning.

Seungcheol is still lying there with his eyes closed though his breathing is evening out now when you place the cup on the side table and sit on the bed at his side. You carefully start to run the cloth over his sweat-damp body; a shower is really needed but that can wait a little.

Seungcheol makes a soft noise but doesn't react otherwise.

Finally, he opens his eyes when you return from taking the cloth back to the bathroom to toss into the hamper where you also clean between your thighs quickly.

“Hey,” you greet softly, laying down on your right propped up on your elbow at his side to look down at him as your left hand soothes over his chest.

“Hi.” He smiles softly at you, then tiredly rolls over to tuck up against you. You smile at the cute action and turn onto your back to allow him to curl up against your side with his head on your chest, his right arm and leg over you keeping you there. Not that you have any intention to move quite yet.

This is nice.

Your right arm goes around his back and into his hair to play with the strands while your left hand rubs over his forearm, gentle yet firm enough that he knows you're here and not going anywhere. “How're you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired,” he mumbles, making you laugh softly.

“Just tired?” He hums in confirmation. “So you're good otherwise? It wasn't too much?”

“No. M'good,” he slurs a little, signalling that he truly is tired enough that sleep is already starting to claim him.

“Yeah, you are. My good boy, huh?” You tease lightly and press a kiss to the top of his head. You're pretty sure you can feel his cheek bunch up against your skin as he smiles in return.

“Your good boy,” he confirms, voice so thick that you know there's no point trying to get him up to shower or eat, even drink despite knowing he really should. It'll have to wait until he wakes.

“Mm, yeah, sleep now baby, we'll talk more later,” you reply, though you're certain he's too close to slumber to really catch the warning.

Regardless, you know that once he's awake and you're certain that he's still genuinely okay, clean and fed, you'll have to talk. A lot has changed in such a short time and hopefully, he will confirm that it's nothing more than sex for him too because the alternative has dread pooling in your gut.

You can't do this again if it's not entirely equal and you kind of have the feeling that there's no going back now that you've had each other like this. Yet, if you can't go forward because of potential feelings on his side, then you're well and truly fucked and not in the way either of you want to be.

Still, that's not something you can discuss right now so you follow Seungcheol's lead and close your eyes. You just hope that when you open them, everything will be alright.

[livinginsunnyhell]

White Lies (And Other Hidden Truths)

Buck will say as nonchalantly as he can, ‘I proposed to you, okay?’ And that will be the end of it. Except there are a million different ways he could propose.

Did he and Eddie have a cute little hike? Maybe they were running errands and Buck just popped the question in the cereal aisle while they were arguing over Cheerios and Lucky Charms. He could do it spontaneously at a restaurant or while they were making dinner together. It’s nearly the holidays so maybe he tried to do something really suave and debonair and ended up getting too excited and proposing too soon. Maybe Eddie—

“Buck?” Eddie greets sounding like this isn’t the first time he’s said Buck’s name. “You butt dialed me, man.”

“Did you propose or did I?”

“What?”

“Our story – what’s our story?” Buck winces and runs a hand through his hair. It’s sticky with clamminess and gel and he wipes it on his pants. He chews on his lower lip waiting for Eddie to say something. A part of him is glad he didn’t do this in person, he doesn’t need Eddie to know how much this conversation is making him sweat. It was hard enough choosing a pretend date that they started their fake relationship.

“Oh, uh, Chris can you go set the table?” Eddie says.

“Why there’s only two of us?” Chris grumbles.

Buck can see Chris’ petulant eye roll and the frustrated downturn of Eddie’s lips. His hand hovers near the keys ready to start the car and drive over. There’s movement on the other end of the phone and the sound of creaking.

“Okay, sorry I had to go to the bedroom,” Eddie says.

“So?” Buck presses. “Also why are you eating so late?”

“Chess club ran late.”

“Oh.”

Buck shifts in his seat and lets his hand drop to the gear shift where he takes up a tapping rhythm.

“Um…do you think a story is necessary? I mean, Bobby said he wouldn’t say anything.”

“Eddie! What if he asks us? Just like randomly at work or something. What if he starts pressing us for details because he doesn’t believe us? Everyone loves hearing how people got engaged! Wouldn’t he think it was weird? What if—”

“I get it. Okay, um, do you have a story in mind? I mean, is there – I don’t know – a way you want to propose?”

“I mean I don’t have like specifics or anything but…” Buck bites his lip. The swirl of ideas flutter through like a flipbook, each page growing more and more grandiose.

“What?”

“Well, I’d like to propose,” Buck muttered squeezing his eyes shut. He’s actually really glad Eddie can’t see him.

“Oh!”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just thought – no, yeah, that makes sense.”

“M-Maybe I propose with like – I mean, we’re at dinner at ou – at the house and we’re eating and I just…ask,” Buck stutters.

Eddie’s quiet for a minute before muttering, “That’s, um, that’s okay.”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No! No! It’s just – I figured you’d want to do something, you know, more…gesture-y. Like a big romantic gesture.”

Buck smiles. “You like simple. You wouldn’t like a big romantic gesture. You’d like, well, a quiet dinner with just us and Chris. Something direct, you know no frills.”

“Yeah…” Eddie breaths out and gulps. “But if I proposed to you—”

“I thought I was—”

“We’d be like doing something. A dinner or a concert or a museum. But I’d wait until it was just the two of us because I’d be too nervous to do one of those crazy elaborate proposals in front of so many people. I mean what if you said no.”

Of course, he wouldn’t say ‘no.’ Marrying Eddie would be – it would be like getting the perfect gift. Something that contains everything he’s always wanted – a family, love, friendship, trust, loyalty. Someone who understands him completely. The proposal would just be all the promises of things to come.

“Eddie, I wouldn’t say no,” Buck whispers carefully, patiently, needing Eddie to understand how he’s physically incapable of saying anything except ‘yes’ to him (except on the crazier ideas like moving to El Paso).

“I—”

“And while I like the big romantic gesture stuff… It’s romantic and – and nice. I’d – I’d want it to be the three of us. That’s what I’d want.”

And while the entire conversation makes Buck feel like he’s sitting on a boat out to sea in a storm, he wishes – he really wishes he could see Eddie’s face to know what he’s thinking. What if he’s overstepped?

It’s dinner, Eddie and Chris at the little dining room table, Buck would come in with lasagna or enchiladas or something else he knows he makes really well. He’d put the ring box on the table and look at Eddie, waiting for him to realize. And Chris would notice first, and Eddie would probably be complimenting Buck’s cooking skills. Chris would nudge him pointedly and once Eddie realized he’d go completely silent. Buck would most definitely cry and Eddie – Eddie would try to hold back, inevitably a tear or 10 would escape.

There’s a loud bang as a garage door opens. One of Maddie and Chimney’s neighbors pull their garbage to the curb, a hunched over older man. Reality strikes and a pang of sorrow prickles his chest.

“I want that too,” Eddie mutters.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[afreakingdork]

Attempted Execute of Non-Executable Memory - Chapter 5

RotTMNT Michelangelo x Kendra

Kendra dabbles in some of her past tendencies in this week's chapter art by @goodforwho

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings/Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Revenge, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Dating, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Love Confessions, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Step-Parents, Neglect, First Kiss, First Generation Immigrant Kids, Acculturation, Loss/Removal of Cultural Identity, Incarceration, Prison Time, I Fill in Kendra's Backstory, I flesh Out Kendra's Character, Character Exploration, Character Study

Synopsis: After hitting the lowest of lows, Kendra has carved out a simple life for herself. She’s content enough to live this way until opportunity walks through her place of employment in the form of an orange turtle mutant. She just needs to get close enough to him to plant a virus in his infuriating brother’s servers, but will she be infected long the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 🧡 Previous

She wasn’t going to be made a fool again.

She was Kendra Byerly and she was a force.

No turtle twerp was going to dupe her. 

Three times was far too many.

She had fallen for far too many tricks.

A kiss.

She didn’t linger on it.

She placed it for what it was.

A spur of the moment action that spoke to higher purpose.

While her main focus was spent trying to keep up with the blight that was Michelangelo, some sane background part of her brain operated within the confines of the plan.

A kiss helped keep him interested.

It was necessary because she was losing him.

It was bait to dangle.

It would have been better utilized at the end of the date with practiced bedroom eyes that said ‘take me home so I can ruin your wretch of a brother,’ but there had been the adrenaline of it all.

She wasn’t going to get caught up in that again.

She wasn’t going to let him lead anymore.

She hadn’t picked the next date spot, but she exercised discretion.

No more surprises.

No more excuses.

A common ground that removed all unknowns.

She was playing chess now.

She took a single breath and looked up at the science museum she had been standing outside of for approximately 45 minutes.

She pressed her vow to its façade.

She’d get Mikey home at the end of this date.

She would be in control for the duration.

So that meant getting here an hour early.

That was nothing.

That was mental preparation.

That was scouting.

That was beating Michelangelo at his own game.

Seduce and conquer were the primary and only objectives.

“Kendra!” Mikey called her.

She didn’t turn and gave him three quarters of her profile for an alluring glance just as she’d practiced. “Beat you.”

He marched up and almost collided with one pedestrian. “Heh. Yeah. You excited?”

“Maybe…” She turned to him in a gentle sweep. “That depends on you.”

Mikey blinked wide. “Me?”

“Do you always arrive fifteen minutes early?” 

“Yeah, better to be early.” He was clearly looking over her calm demeanor.

Keep him on his toes. “Doesn’t really avoid the disaster.”

“Which is why we’re here!” Mikey threw his hands up. “I’m gonna pick a good date spot eventually! This place is made for interaction. It’s actually open and I’m pretty sure there’s no priceless relics!”

“A little thought goes a long way.” She purred as she passed by him into the building.

She felt Mikey stray behind and smirked to herself as she entered.

She looked over the many families without focusing too much on any one of them and lined up in a queue for tickets.

Mikey soon appeared by her side. “You getting into… beetroot juice by chance?”

Don’t let him confuse you. “No, should I?”

“No. I mean, I guess? It’s fine. It’s good for blood pressure.”

She made a non-committal noise and stepped forward after several people filed away.

“Keeps ya calm…” Mikey went on.

Kendra looked upward along with her thoughts.

Mikey was leading to something.

It seemed like a comment on her behavior.

She couldn’t have that.

“Supports the heart and brain…” 

She tipped her shoulders in his direction, but kept from brushing him. “Beetroot, hm? I think I know that. Isn’t it good for stamina too?” She pressed a finger up into her lip to enhance her cupid’s bow.

Mikey’s eyes bugged out, but an employee flagged them.

Dropping from her supposed curiosity, Kendra grazed with her middle finger’s nail through his palm before grabbing his hand to lead him over.

He went off balance and hopped on one leg a few times to keep up with her.

“Isn’t he funny?” She tittered to the teller.

The woman was amused enough. “Sure, two adults?”

“Yes.” One adult and one man child.

“I’ve got it!” Mikey patted himself down for his wallet.

“Silly.” She pressed the whole of herself into his side.

It took a leading drag of her hand across the plates of his torso to reach into the pocket she had clocked his wallet in.

She pinched it free and sent him a heavy look as she offered it between two scissored fingers. “Here it is.”

“Ha… Ha… What?!” He quacked with a sweat dotting his brow.

She released him to his pathetic sense of modesty and turned to wipe her fingers off on her pants.

“Have fun you two!” The woman jeered as she handed Mikey a receipt.

“We will.” Kendra struck her with a sharp look before sending a heated one to Mikey. “Let’s go.”

“Kendra-!”

She dove directly into a crowd and felt him rattle off apologies and her name in quick succession as he tried to catch up.

All she could think was, ‘that’s it.’

It was a small rush.

A taste of control.

It had been far too long.

“Ken-! OW!!!” 

A small child giggled manically as he wove easily through the many legs.

A half-crouched mother waddled after him. “Joey!”

The little boy ran up to the next unsuspecting victim and kicked them in the shins. 

Pain was shouted and the kid continued to run on glee. 

She appreciated the hustle and finally rotated to glimpse Mikey. 

He limped forward. 

She had built up enough suspense, she supposed.

She saddled up to his side and slipped her arm in his. “I can’t leave you alone for a second.”

“Okay, that has got to-!”

She yanked him.

He hobbled and she tugged him straight to the first exhibit. A presentation of life then and now, it was illustrated by a myriad of dinosaur bones alongside creepy stuffed birds. There was a through line via placards about what genetics had been altered to illustrate the switch. Kids cheered and obsessed over what they could and could not touch. Parents tried to keep up with the whims of their lineage and Kendra picked the first placard. It had some semblance of science on it even if it wasn’t a field that she particularly gave a shit about.

Mikey took a breath once he recovered and stared hard into the side of her head. “What are you doing?”

“Shh.” She nodded to the sign that she had long finished.

She could feel his gaze narrow.

She allowed her pupils to filter along the sentence so he couldn’t complain.

He clicked his tongue. “You know what? Fine!”

This was one of the scenarios she calculated for.

She took a slow, shrouded breath and prepared her list of contingencies.

She hadn’t done anything dorky like label them, but she laid out her options in a mental tree.

No matter what insanity Mikey tried to pull, she would be ready.

‘Not again,’ she gave herself one last steadying reminder.

“It’s gross, right?!” Mikey’s voice chuckled a little too loud.

Kendra eliminated the files that involved direct action and was left with the ones where he made a scene.

She was almost impressed that he’d chosen to go for humiliation so quickly.

She prepared a staunch expression, but when she turned her date was nowhere to be seen.  

Kids laughter erupted and she found Mikey crouched amongst them where he pointed at a display. “What’s it look like to you?”

“Alligator!” One kid yelled.

“No! Crook’dile!” Another protested.

“Do you know the difference?” Mikey tilted his head.

“Looks like you!” A snottier kid made a beak out of his hands and put it over his mouth to make chicken noises.

Mikey’s lids lowered with little amusement and he turned to a quieter child. “How about you? Do you know?”

She swiveled shyly and drew two distinct arcs with a finger in the air.

“That’s right!” Mikey lit up. “You know, I have a mutant friend, Leatherhead, who’s an alligator. That means she has a wider u-shaped snout instead of a croc’s narrow v-kind!”

The snotty kid seemed perturbed he wasn’t addressed. “This doesn’t look like any of those!”

“Might be cause of the artist.” Mikey pondered the image. “Scientists didn’t actually grow the beakless chicken because how would it have eaten its seed!”

The snotty kid’s cheek puffed and he stared hard at the display.

“Says here that the embryo resembled an alligator so the artist drew what the adult chicken would have looked like.” Mikey continued on.

The snotty kid pouted and the other children filtered off.

“Want to look at the next one?” Mikey moved to stand.

“You’re… a what…?” The snotty kid couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m part box turtle.” Mikey told him.

“I guess-!” The kid made a loud huffy noise before running away.

Mikey smiled after him before looking straight at Kendra.

She refused to let surprise take her and solidified her features.

He gave a nod to keep looking and perused the exhibit with his hands behind his back.   

She lingered on reading a few plaques before she caught up with his snail’s pace.

He didn’t address her.

She puffed out her cheeks ever so slightly when his head was turned and went for his hand.

She needed to get his attention back.

She could demand it, but that would subvert her control.

She could threaten to leave, but he might just agree.

She could ask for his angle, but that felt like a concession.

Running out of contingencies, he turned just as she reached his fingers.

She was left with an outstretched hand towards his back and tried not to frown too deeply. “You got a booger from one of those brats.”

“You’ll get it?” He offered her his backside.

She pretended to pinch and flick nothing away.

“Thanks.” He had a smarmy aura as if he knew it was all a farce.

She fought scoffing. “I’d prefer to do something hands-on.”

“I know just the thing.” He offered her his palm.

She warily dripped her fingertips into it.

He closed without pretense and was slow to lead.

She got that his intention was for her to go and she took the deference with a flurry of thoughts.

He knew something was off.

Where was he going?

What would he do next?

She moved around an infuriating amount of families until they were at an exhibit about weather.

“Start from the back.” He spoke from behind.

She trended that way and swept through the memorized layout of the museum.

That was an area for natural disasters.

It soon appeared from between bodies as several models and a huge platform that people could stand on. An employee was manned at the display and spouting an endless line of driveled facts. Kids and parents alike mounted the platform and with a push of a button it would react with a certain magnitude of earthquake. It often barely shook, but the kids would fall and laugh gratingly with each tremor.

Kendra idled with Mikey tightly fisted at her side.

“Wanna do this one? There’s also a tornado booth.” Mikey pointed with his free hand.

“This.” She stunted out.

Mikey wasn’t eyeing her.

Mikey was barely moving.

Mikey was an old man for all intents and purposes.

Was that a representation of his commitment?

Was he going through the motions?

He had said something like that once. 

Something about thinking about how to break off a date because it wasn’t bad, but wasn’t good. 

“Let’s get ready to rumble!” The employee yelled out before listing off facts about tectonic plates.

Kendra and Mikey climbed onto the platform and found a corner.

They both held the guard rail.

“Insert joke about rocking my world?” Mikey spoke to the ground.

Kendra couldn’t move her head. 

Mikey said nothing else. 

She didn’t dare look at him. 

Who knew when the crazed attendant would flip the switch?

“Magnitude 1!” The employee then went on to explain what that could move.

Kendra planted feet and clung to the rail.

“Magnitude 2!”

The employee said this shook water in glasses. 

Kendra round it rumbled in her knees. 

She locked them. 

“Magnitude three!”

Mikey let go of the railing.

She couldn’t understand how he could. 

The unspoken rule was you were supposed to hold on. 

“Magnitude 4!”

There was a rocking that felt like the slosh of the subway.

She could believe she was there. 

She was safely moved by man and not by Earth. 

“Magnitude 5!”

Toddlers began to fall and roll around in giggle fits.

They laughed. 

The display may have been comical, but it represented something real. 

“Brace yourselves for our highest demonstration! Magnitude 6!”

The machine rocked and a woman near Kendra slipped.

It caused a chain reaction where she grabbed the next person and he tipped backwards towards her.

Before she could move out of the way, Mikey simply walked forward as if the ground wasn’t bouncing below him and caught the man.

He righted him and the woman with ease and the machine rumbled back down to stillness.

Gratitude was shared and Mikey returned to her without a care. 

She watched him as her nails were buried in the rail. 

He offered his hand again so they could dismount the platform.

Kendra looked it and him over once before flexing her fingers free and jumping off the display herself. 

She felt him follow closely as she traversed through the rest of natural disasters and into the water cycle.

It made no sense.

She had seen him react to her advances.

Both in confusion and an edge of desire.

She had somehow been rebuffed or she had rebuffed him in the process.

It was hard to say.

If she lingered for a second, the thoughts that were unlike her flooded her like one of the models.

What was he doing?

Did he care?

Did he have a plan?

What was his problem?

What would he do next?

Him.

Him.

Him.

She schooled herself.

She didn’t deal in doubt.

She dealt in exacts.

She was decisive.

So what was the next step?

The next exhibits dealt with broader topics of science and innovation.

It was the room she had been waiting for.

She could return to her original plan of seduction.

She knew he had reacted positively. 

If not bewildered.

Would he get over that?

She could adjust the probability in her favor.

Shift his attention.

She stood on the precipice between exhibits and looked on to technological feats.

There was a workshop for building mini robotics models.

A wall where code could be implemented into a digital space.

Several machines that put out pre-concocted mixtures. 

She wanted to mess with them all.

She didn’t want to keep up this charade.

In a matter of what seemed like seconds, she lost the will to continue.

The USB with the virus on it sat like lead in her pocket.

The worst part was she knew exactly why.

The damned earthquake simulation.

She was scared.

They didn’t do earthquakes in New York.

The literal earth shaking?

What a hopeless event. 

There was nothing she could do if it were to happen.

She hadn’t had the technology for a flight pack in years.

She would never cobble one together in time.

Mikey hadn’t noticed.

Mikey had made a bitter joke about her flirting.

Mikey had caught some random man instead of helping her.

For as much as they were alike, there would always be the same glaring difference.

He wasn’t intuitive enough.

He needed to be told.

Kendra didn’t spout anything but orders.

Mikey was made of questions.

He was a terrible underling.

He questioned authority.

He questioned her.

Everything she did.

For some sake of understanding.

One she didn’t want to give to him.

One she refused and always would.

Because the context was what it was.

She wasn’t interested in him.

She wanted to use him.

Admitting she couldn’t felt more like opening stubborn eyes than a revelation.

Part of her had known all along.

Maybe that was why she thwarted it.

She had looked at all the stubborn red flags and shoved through them.

Now, in a clear moment, she could hear the warnings.

This would be the last date.

She turned to convey just that, but no one was beside her.

In both directions, people were parting around her person, even though she was smack dab in the center of a threshold.

She had to turn around to find the source.

Mikey was getting bumped repeatedly.

He also had his arms out and was making himself a target.

It only took a second longer for her to realize that was on purpose.

He was acting as a barrier to split the traffic.

They parted at him so they’d funnel around where she had stopped cold.

She tapped his shoulder. “We need to talk.”

“Huh? Yeah. Sure. Let me just…” He kept his arms in their t-pose and waddled to the side.

He smacked someone directly in the face and she almost laughed, but kept it in.

Within a crab walk, they soon pressed into a bare space in the wall and had enough privacy to share words. “Still shaky?”

“What?”

“You know…” Mikey did a little unstable wiggle.

“What is that?”

“From the earthquake thing.” He threw a hand out towards it.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“We… We need to stop this.”

“We need to go? Are you feeling sick??”

“Mikey…”

“It was from that earthquake thing! I knew it was something! You wouldn’t let go of the wall!”

“I– What?!”

“I mean there was totally a warning about motion sickness on it so it makes sense!’”

Her brows pinched.

“But let’s use the emergency exit! It’s basically an emergency. I’ll get you out of here, just-!”

She placed an open hand out to his chest. “Michelangelo.”

“Eugh… Full name…”

“Look, this hasn’t worked out and never will. All these dates have been disasters. We’re just not…” She shook her head. “… compatible. We need to accept it and stop. It’s a waste of time.”

“Oh.” Mikey looked down.

That was that. 

The bandage was ripped off and there was no room for confusion. 

She didn’t think he would rat her out to her parole officer, but she also didn’t want to chance it.

He didn’t need to know about the virus.

He didn’t need to know anything more than he did. “I’m gonna go.”

He didn’t say anything.

That seemed best and she retracted her hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Do you think people who are dating should have like the same mind kinda thing?”

She gave it honest thought. “You mean about compatibility?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t owe you a response.”ob

“Of course not.” He agreed too easily.

“If I say we aren’t compatible then we aren’t.”

“True.”

“Okay.” She moved to leave again.

“Do you mind answering? Before you go…”

“I did.”

“Not really.”

“I did.”

“No, you told me you don’t think we’re compatible again. Which I respect.”

“That’s the answer.”

“It’s… not though.”

“You aren’t respecting me. You’re wasting my time.”

“Kendra, it’s not a thing. I’m not trying to trick you. I’m genuinely asking if you think like minds should date.”

“We’re not like minds.”

“I’m not asking that!”

“I don’t see the point!”

“Does there have to be one!?”

“Yes! Otherwise, what is the point?!”

“I don’t know! Entropy!?”

“You probably just read that.”

“Maybe I did!”

“So what then!? You want to know for the inevitable degree of randomness in the universe!? Are you the loss of heat that messes up calculations?! You think so damn highly of yourself, you know that!?”

“I do!”

“When you don’t even notice the simplest thing!?”

He blinked once.

Run.

She could run.

She doubted he would stop her.

She only needed to dodge one person in the crowd and he would be stuck with his pleasantries.

Or he’d jump.

He could leap over everyone like that fence at the last museum and cut her off.

She could scream.

One yell and the alarm from the emergency door and the onlookers would think she was getting attacked.

It would buy her time.

She didn’t flee.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t do anything.

She couldn’t.

“Kendra, what did I miss?”

“Nothing.” She spoke automatically.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Tough shit.”

He grew stern. “Kendra.”

“Stop saying my name.”

“What should I say then? A nickname? Something shorter? Ken?”

“Just stop.”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“I know that.”

“I won’t ever be able to.”

“I know.”

“I’m also not great at guessing.”

“Obviously.”

“Unless I have something to go off of.”

“The tag.”

“The pepper spray.”

“Forcing myself.”

He nodded.

“Why did you leave me when we first got here?”

He stilled.

“You said, ‘Okay. Fine.’ and walked away. Why?”

“Oh…” He deflated in a genial way. “That’s because I realized you weren’t going to tell me what you were doing and I needed a second to accept that.”

“You… Were you mad?” She looked at him.

“Kind of?” He shrugged. “I mean just cause I’m in touch with my feelings, doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it. I know you need time and you’re super clear about your boundaries, but that kind of goes directly against my whole style of blabbing everything on my mind all the time.”

Something clicked. “You believe opposites attract.”

He grimaced. “Not really…”

“Then why did you ask-?”

“Again with the why!” He tipped his head back. “There’s no why! I’m just curious! All this time, all these things I learn about you, there’s so much I don’t know or won’t ever know. I hate that, but that’s how it is. This is over and that’s how it happens. I’m not even asking what I did wrong and, again, I’m not trying to gas myself up, but it would be nice to know, in parting, for closure, however you want to spin in, what you did want. Not because I think I can change into it or that it’ll change anything, but for the huge grand prize winning answer of, I want to know!”

“That’s… how it always is with you…”

“Huh?”

“Always jumping in. You don’t think about anything. You’re rash and stupid.”

“That isn’t-”

“And what? I’m supposed to worry about that? I’m supposed to wonder if you’ll make it? I’m supposed to care that much?! No! That’s not a relationship! Being together is being of one mind! Being a united force! Being able to face everything together! That’s what makes sense! Not stress! Not all this fighting! Not the learning curve! My bapak and ibu always-!” She clamped a hand over her mouth.

Her parents what?

What was she going to tell Mikey?

That things made sense when she was a kid.

That her dad’s mild manner perfectly matched her mom’s.

That even when she was dying he had a stone face.

That his expressions were worth their weight in gold.

That not once did he break down in those following years.

That he was what she strived to be.

That Deborah Ricci came along and confused him.

How he said he liked how bold she was.

How she was nothing like her mom.

How she’d never be like her mom.

How she was the antithesis of her mom.

Mikey hugged her.

Mikey had hugged her.

Mikey was hugging her.

She didn’t know when, but she tucked into him.

It was stupid.

All of it was stupid.

Everything was too loud.

There were too many people here.

Mikey rubbed her the wrong way.

He brought out the worst in her.

He was changing her.

“I’m sorry!” He shouted watery words in her ear. “I’m sorry…”

She shook her head.

Not because she disagreed, but because she didn’t want it.

Not another apology.

Not the room of people in black.

Not another death.

“I’m so sorry, Kendra.”

“Why?”

“Why…?” His cheek was against hers.

“Why do you keep doing this? How? You’re here and everything for years that I’ve… I keep saying things that I don’t want… Just… why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you’ve been through. You’ve told me some and there’s obviously way more, but… that one mind thing… You don’t just get there. Something happens. I don’t know what your parents were like when they were dating. I don’t know if you know, but if they were that cohesive, they must have been an amazing team.”

Her eyes watered up.

“They raised an amazing daughter.”

“Stupid.” She pushed him. “You think I’ll cry from some dumb praise?”

He relented enough so they could see each other. “Obviously not.”

She saw his reddened and waterlogged eyes.

They were the same as hers.

She scowled. “What do you know?”

“Nothing.” He smiled.

“Exactly! You know the opposite. You know my criminal record. That’s proof that I’m a no-good daughter.”

“No, that’s proof the system failed out. Genius gone bad? Trust me, I know. Donnie was one family unit away from becoming evil the whole time.”

She glowered.

“Right…” His teeth came sharply together. “You hate when I mention Don-err, you-know-who.”

“How do you know that?!”

“I don’t know!?” He perked with too obvious innocence. “How you act I guess?!”

“Ugh! You notice that and a million other things, but not that I’m scared of earthquakes!”

“Huh!? You’re scared of earthquakes?!”

“Obviously!”

“What do you mean ‘obviously?!’ Did you know?!”

“What do you mean ‘did I know!?’ Of course, I did!”

“When!?”

“When!?” She seethed. “When I got on that stupid machine!”

“When you-!?” He squeezed her waist. “You didn’t know until you were already on it?! You didn’t realize until just then?!”

“What does that matter?!”

“Cause how could I have known?!”

“You keep saying that!”

“Do you want someone who reads your mind?”

“This again!”

“No! Not ‘this again!’ It’s a new question!”

“’Do I want someone to-?’ No! Obviously, I don’t. I want to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Of course you do.”

“Why do you say it like that?! Like you know!?”

“I don’t! I keep telling you! I don’t know! I’ll never know! But you hate that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” It felt like relief to say it.

“One mind! That means thinking the same!”

“Don’t presume-!”

“I’m not!” He pressed forward until their foreheads butted together.

Her eyes squeezed shut from the contact.

His voice surrounded her. “It’s obvious your parents are the gold star standard. I get that. My dad turned out to be my literal hero. The reason I learned martial arts. The catchphrases that I made my own. I was living under this enormous shadow and I had no idea! All I knew was Lou Jitsu was everything I wanted to be.”

She cracked her lids and saw a peek of blurry green.

“But that was never going to be me. I was never going to be that person. I can’t be someone else. I can only be me. I can be better.”

Her eyes shot wide and her head reared so Mikey would come into focus.

“I don’t want to prove I’m like Lou Jitsu. I want to show my dad everything I can be. I’m not done. I’m nowhere near done! I’ve got so much to prove to this whole damn world!”

Her hands were on his arms and she squeezed.

“But to do that I had to change. I had to keep changing. I had to stop copying what I saw. One way only gets you so far. I had to break the cycle… and I couldn’t have done that alone…”

“So…” The sound was shaky. “What?”

“Nothing…” He deflated from his big speech like it was of no importance. “That’s me…”

“But you…?”

“Compared us? Sure. That doesn’t mean that’s how you feel. That’s just how I feel about it.”

She dug her nails into his arm.

He didn’t react in the slightest.

“What do you think? You can… what? Be that for me?”

“I don’t know. That’s really up to you.”

That was up to her.

He was full of hot air.

He spewed it like a loose balloon.

By all accounts, he believed he could be.

By all accounts, his comparison had been right.

The finessed points differed, but in the broad strokes it was alarming how similar they were.

One mind.

He acted like he would have known about her fear if she had known about it.

Like he had been reading her mind all along.

Hadn’t he?

In a way, he had.

In a way, he always had.

In a way, he drove her nuts.

In a way, he was the only one who could.

“When you’re around, you make me annoyingly aware of everything I try not to worry about.”

“I do?”

She glared at him, but sharpened a playful edge. “You bother me to no end.”

“Ah…”

“You also make all those worries disappear like it was all just as stupid as you.”

“Oh…”

“Like there was never any point to worry in the first place.”

He was silent.

“Could you…? No…” She smiled more to herself. “Would you want to be with someone like that? What is your type? You said it wasn’t opposites.”

“I like someone who pushes me by being themselves.”

Her lips parted.

“Just as they are. Imagine how far a pair like that would go.”

She sighed right into his face.

He only blinked because of the rush of air.

He was otherwise unbothered.

She could bother him.

She had pissed him off earlier.

She had the ability.

He wasn’t one thing.

He was multitudes.

“Name something else I don’t like.”

“You don’t like being trapped.”

Her head tilted slightly. “Why name that one?”

“Why not?”

“I hate when you do that.”

“Sure, you do.”

She rolled her eyes once before landing right back on him. “Trapped by what?”

“Anything. Me, for one. It’s the whole arm’s length thing. I get it.”

“What do you do about it?”

“I hang back and let you decide what things happen and when.”

She instantly knew what he was referring to. “Your perfect kiss.”

“That’s one way to put it. Even though it’s passed.” His brow ridge waggled.

All his actions with her had been chaste. “You were… mad that I wouldn’t tell you why I was flirting, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?”

He oozed guilt.

She ate it up with her expression alone.

“I had to be in the right mindset! You hadn’t ever come on that strong! You’re a physical person, but you hadn’t been physical like that before!”

“So what!? We would never have done it!?”

“I sure wasn’t going to initiate!”

“What if I never asked? Never hinted? We’d just go on a hundred dates.”

“A thousand and one, why not?”

“How is that good enough?”

“How isn’t it?”

She twitched.

“That one was too easy. You literally set me up.”

“You know you’re putting the emotional load on me that way, right?”

He jolted.

“Yeah! How unfair is that?!”

“W-wait-!”

“Just like a man.” She hissed.

“You take that back!” Mikey gasped.

“Make me! You can’t because-”

He kissed her.

One swift bob and weave of his head and he shut her right up.

She preferred it.

She would have to tell him.

Maybe in time for their next date.

Until then, she kissed him back.

They popped apart and swiveled right back into a reconnecting press.

When they broke it was because they spied one another peeking through lashes.

“You like it when I’m assertive.”

“I like when you know your place.” She spoke against his lips.

He rumbled with a noise that was sickeningly sweet.

She might have asked him what the sound was had someone else not spoken first.

“Um, are you two… alright? The staff were-”

“We’re fine!”

“We’re fine!”

Mikey and Kendra shared a look after their simultaneous comment before releasing each other to run into the other room.

It didn’t take more discussion then, but it would come, Kendra knew.

There had been a monumental shift in an exceedingly small amount of time, but she would worry about that later.

For now she had brats to contend with.

She started at the robotics stations where she immediately conscripted a ton of toddlers into her assembly line. They passed her pieces under her tutelage and she soon had a demolition derby bot worthy of her old club’s name. She sent it after Mikey’s tank which he had seemingly armored with every sturdy piece available. She hadn’t been able to locate any metal to fashion into a saw so they were left at a stalemate.

The kids were inspired and began to flood the space with battle bots.

Kendra and Mikey left them to their devices as they moved to the interactive screen. Mikey jumped onto the projected panels and ignored the games to instead do shadow puppetry. He did kabuki theater for the impressionable young souls that were captivated by his story. It gave her cover as she hacked into the code for the lights and enhanced his performance. He spoke of flames and she made fire. He mentioned spurts of blood and she splashed dark liquid across the ground. It was apparent that Mikey was retelling some R-rated action flick and the angry mothers started to catch wind. Kendra slunk away before they could strike and flicked her head for Mikey to follow.

He trailed away after throwing the end of the story to the crowd to complete and they moved onto mixing machines. There were flat tables that each had an obvious set of chemicals that could be mixed. One only needed to solve an all-too-easy-to-complete chemical equation to make the right one, but Kendra ignored that in favor of gutting the machine's interior. As soon as she opened it up, Mikey got access to the tubes inside. He identified a soap mixture and she rewired where it would flow to. While she worked, a few pre-teens squatted around to ask what she was doing. She narrated her plot all without naming its climax until she smashed a button. Mikey crawled out of the way just in time for a massive bubble to begin to form. Kendra couldn’t contain her cackles as it grew and grew until everyone was halted at the sight of the soapy monstrosity.

It popped directly into everyone’s eyes and the room erupted.

With the staff blinded and three strikes against them, Kendra grabbed Mikey to race out and  assumed they had some lifetime ban. Both their images which would be printed on a wall so as not to be served. They ran down the street, a regular Bonnie and Clyde, until the suds subsided and they could plan their next date over a public water fountain eye rinsing.

🧡 NEXT 🧡

My laptops out of commission again, but my betas keep going @tmntxthings  @thepinkpanther83 and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[avelera]

Come Live with Me and Be My Love ☼: how i came up with the idea :)

Funny enough, I can share with you the EXACT post detailing my thought process back from when I first had the idea!

But to looking back... I think I really just wanted to do a "fake dating/arranged marriage" type AU where Dream is sort of forced to fall in love with Hob throughout the course of pretending to be in a relationship?

Like I truly think that if you put a gun to his head and told Dream "You have to marry ONE living human and stay with them for a year," he'd first scoff at the notion and think it's beneath him but again, gun to his head, would probably be like, "Hob has occasionally amused me in the past and might not be totally unbearable/doomed if I was forced to spend more than the usual amount of time with him so, sure, let's go with Hob." But like... not *really* expecting to get anything more out of it for himself beyond some mildly interesting sex?

But I think Hob is kind of the essence of, "I do much better in the interview than on the application." Like on *paper* as a former peasant etc, he's not really a good match for Dream. But he's *so* resilient, and *so* likable and *so* willing to put up with Dream's bullshit and (in my opinion) so starving for pour all his affection onto someone like Dream (well, *specifically* Dream) who isn't going to up and die on him that once you're trapped in the web of a relationship with him, you're like, "Oh shit, this guy is some grade A husband material, huh?"

So I was really interested in writing a version of Dream who *isn't* in love with Hob, who doesn't *expect* to ever love Hob, but thinks Hob is tolerable in a "If I had to pick a human" sort of way, only to get smacked across the face with like, wow this guy is actually *amazing* and an *amazing* match for me and wow this is all gone to shit real quick and all my plans are in tatters because this guy I knew who once had *fleas* is a really amazing husband and partner and we're very well suited and oh no, I'm actually really falling in love???

And 1789 made the most sense to put that story in, I want to say, for a variety of reasons, but mostly it seemed hmmm.... It seemed the era where Dream had the most *recent* memory of having been at least a little tempted to sleep with Hob. So if it's within a few decades of that meeting (it had to be decades later, I wasn't going to place it directly in 1789 because Hob *had* to have made some amends for the shipping business before that, he had to be LONG out of that business before I'd cast him as a romantic lead) and Dream, gun to his head, was told he had to pick a human, I figured it was realistic that he'd go, "Oh yeah, Hob and I had that flirty exchange recently. He doesn't seem *totally* unbearable, if I had to pick a human." (1589 or 1889 the vibe would be VERY different and Dream absolutely would NOT have picked Hob, and obviously Giving Sanctuary is my 1689 take on if their relationship started then).

But yeah, mostly it was out of a desire to see Dream give Hob a chance and for Hob to knock it out of the park, and then everything sort of fell into place after that that it would be a wager gone wrong, that it would be post 1789, etc etc because that was the supporting details necessary for this sort of silly wager to occur, y'know?

[anneofteenfables]

Cress

Title: Cress

Author: Marissa Meyer

Genre: Science Fiction

Length: 16 hours

Summary: 

In this third book in the Lunar Chronicles, Cinder and Captain Thorne are fugitives on the run, now with Scarlet and Wolf in tow. Together, they're plotting to overthrow Queen Levana and her army.

Their best hope lies with Cress, a girl imprisoned on a satellite since childhood who's only ever had her netscreens as company. All that screen time has made Cress an excellent hacker. Unfortunately, she's just received orders from Levana to track down Cinder and her handsome accomplice.

When a daring rescue of Cress goes awry, the group is separated. Cress finally has her freedom, but it comes at a higher price. Meanwhile, Queen Levana will let nothing prevent her marriage to Emperor Kai. Cress, Scarlet, and Cinder may not have signed up to save the world, but they may be the only hope the world has.

Review:

Cress has always been my favorite book in the Lunar Chronicles. It’s also the only one that I’ve reread. This is the first time in a long time that I’ve read the whole thing, though. Usually I just skim it and read only the sections about Cress and/or Thorne. I found that I’ve actually forgotten about large plot points of this book. Many scenes that I thought happened in Winter actually happen in Cress or even in Scarlet. 

I really enjoyed reading this book, as I always do, and it almost felt like I was reading it for the first time, considering how much I had forgotten. The run-time for the audiobook is 16 hours and after a certain point, you feel every minute of it. I think that Marissa Meyer is a good author but her pacing has always been a little bit too slow. It somehow felt rushed but also way too slow at points. In my memory, there was only one wedding (on Luna) and because of that the wedding on Earth seemed like a surprise and also very sudden. I know why it happens this way in the story because of Levana’s goals but it seems very quick. Cinder’s plan to crash the wedding also seems very quick, even more so than what would be necessary in universe because of the timeline of the wedding. Some plans and ideas seem to happen out of the blue with very little on-page planning or forethought. This somehow feeds into the slow pacing, not necessarily slow, it just feels like this book goes on forever. When Cress and Thorne have their emotional moment on the Rampion after kidnapping Kai, I truly believed that was where the book would end. However, there’s still more chapters. While these chapters are important and I know why Meyer couldn’t put them in Winter, I wish they would have been earlier. I think that it would have been nice to end Cress’s book with a scene of her and Thorne and I don’t think it would’ve hurt the book to rearrange the scenes with Cinder/Kai and Scarlet/Winter to be slightly earlier. If anything I kind of wish the scene with Scarlet and Winter had been an epilogue, sort of a teaser, for Winter. 

There is a reason that Cress is my favorite Lunar Chronicles book. I really enjoy the different settings and situations that the characters are put in. I’m always a fan of the fake dating trope, so I obviously loved the scenes where Cress and Thorne have to pretend to be a couple. I also really love how Meyer writes their romance. At the beginning Cress is in love with this idea of Thorne that she’s created based on nothing more than what she’s read about him. Even after Thorne tries to explain the truth behind these stories where she’s painted him as a hero, she still views him as such. However, through the course of the story Cress learns for herself who Thorne really is, he is sometimes a hero but he’s also just a person, and she gets to fall in love with the reality of him. I really like that by the end of the book they aren’t officially a couple or anything of the sort but you can still see how much they’ve grown in their relationship. I never really knew that there was a questionable age gap between the two until after I finished the whole series, but I do wholeheartedly accept the headcanon that Thorne is actually 18 and he just lied about his age to get into the military.  I’ve always loved Cress, I especially love the idea of the satellite and I really want to read more about Cress’s life in the satellite before the events of the story. Despite my complaints about the length, and eventually having the audiobook at 2x speed by the final chapters, reading it made me want to read Winter next. Which I probably will even though the audiobook is 24 hours long.

Divider: @cafekitsune

Header paintings: Rapunzel by Florence Harrison + The Last Day of Pompeii by Karl Bryullov

[vantasei]

as per req. from @koobinn

Their thoughts on David? Or which deals with what situation or what triggers a switch?

ok INDIVIDUALLY. foxhound era since thats our favorite :)

null is wary of pretty much everyone. if anyones the type to self isolate, its him. that being said, hes most attentive when it comes to matters of either work or matters of big boss. null is bibos little guard dog (affectionate) SO hes more suspicious of david than he is caring of him. especially since he Does Not vibe with miller or ocelot AT ALL. david getting special attention only makes him more of a concern.

frank... honestly doesnt know him, really! very VERY rarely does he so much as show up in headspace while theyre at foxhound. it just isnt his business and he stays away from it. what DOES get him out while hes there is getting letters from naomi :) thats his sister :) naomi :) but even then, he knows better than to do just about anything while hes around. hiding them away until he dissociates back out. otherwise, he'll only sorta be present in headspace at most via positive triggers.

fox :) dave thats his little guy. its funny not knowing whats wrong with you and only getting a name for yourself way later but yes he steals the name gray fox away from the rest for himself. he mainly exists in spaces where a certain level of camaraderie is necessary while out on business, but he doesnt usually do the work himself (hi null!) that being said, he IS the king of pretending to be human for the sake of establishing (superficial) relationships w his peers. he just has a very distinct personality of Faking Everything because if he thinks too much about his purpose as an entity he'll start itching for pain. which, ha, is a pretty big trigger aside from established environment. specifically self-requested/initiated harm. ironically grounding Specifically for him. but yes :) dave he likes that guy thats his little guy who doesnt mind when fox acts weird and does what hes told and is cute while doing it and (no this isnt love, i dont even know what that is!)

and as a special treat, mr ninja... ah ninja, you elude me still, but i can say insofar as that involuntary pain/harm is one of his bigger triggers, pulled off of null when he split, actually! he knows david as a Name, more than anything. a concept which establishes [an end]. he isnt nearly a masochist (i can literally tell you whos fronting where in mgs1 cutscenes somethings wrong with me), but rather just an entity who exists in a weird bubble of ignorance and simplicity (also pulled off null. post mg2 null is, how do i say, Different from pre mg2 null). very (tell me what to do and ill do it), holding onto the idea of (needing to die) and (snake killed us. he can do it again).

[hanako-san]

Kou........

I got my hands on volume 19 and I wasn't able to read it all, only chapters 96 and 97 and sighs I have to vent my anger.

I couldn't understand why Kou was disliked/hated before, but after some time I started to understand. Now I understand it completely.

In my version he said "Don't ever do something like that again, supposedly for Yashiro's sake"

sighs

Stop pretending to be Hanako's friend. Stop pretending that you want to protect him and believe in him. You are a fake person. FAKE FRIEND. I know that he never declared friendship with him, but AidaIro later shows that they are 'friends'.

You who broke your promise. You who don't mind Mitsuba may attacking a students when he's hungry. Anything to save him and you have no regard for the safety of others. You lecture Hanako. This is level master hypocrisy, and that's not the end

kou's comment about Hanako doubting your lame plan to capture Sakura. "Because you're afraid of your brother"

Of course it will be 'simple', as if Sakura wasn't protected by someone and she personally got caught or Tsukasa.. yes he will allow catch himself as well,it's as easily as you say. When I read this plan and with how much delight and ease he said he would go ahead, I got a facepalm. Hanako only rightly doubted. This plan is so idiotic that I have no words for it.

The way he proudly and arrogantly said the line "Because you're afraid of your brother" made me want to actually punch him in the face like yashiro did to Hanako in chapter 86.

The one who admitted that he didn't understand Teru and had trouble understanding him. Hypocrisy . His hypocrisy has surpassed everything! He is worse than Teru.How dare he judge Hanako and Tsukasa's relationship with such arrogance when they are in exactly the same position. He is so haughty and proud and thinks that he knows and understands everything, when he was not there when they showed this love between them. He doesn't know everything, but he quickly assesses the situation in his own way because Hanako rightly didn't like his pathetic plan.

Teru is at least honest that he doesn't care about the well-being of people, only those he loves, he admits that he hates the supernatural and this job, but he likes killing them (Which is a contradiction of the fact that he doesn't like this job, but I'll leave it at that). Teru may be a a sociopath., but there are moments when he is seriously honest, either with actions(except for Tsukasa, because if Tsukasa he doesn't do anything), facial expression or words.

Kou is ready to get rid of Hanako when necessary, but he is not ready to get rid of Mitsuba and let him go, he wants to keep him alive desperate like Hanako with Yashiro and even against Mitsuba. Selfish, egoistic, hypocritical, he has long outdone his brother, false, arrogant, pretends to understand everything and to be the smartest.

He doesn't seem to be super smart and intelligent. He can't pretend to be 'cool' and look like Teru, he just looks pathetic and arrogant, the hypocrisy just pours out of him.

I don't care about his conflict with himself and his feelings. He want to be good, but he can't do it. He is false. It's annoying how he tries to understand Hanako and try to see the good in him when he actually sees him as evil and not a good spirit who doesn't do anything good out of good intentions, when otherwise he does with Mitsuba and does what Hanako does. and it gives me such a vibe that "I'm better than this Hanako, I'm Minamoto, from a family of egozcrists than this 'evil Hanako'

I'm really fed up with him always trying and faking it. He won't make everyone happy, never, someone will suffer, it just can't be done, and his attitude towards Hanako and his situation of not knowing everything, I have no words to describe it.

Kou, you are not superior and you aren't above Hanako. You're just a clown in my eyes , you are an arrogant fake person trying to pretend you know everything and look cool. You're failing at this I called him a clown because to me he acts like a clown after reading these chapters,arrogant and the hypocrisy in him is deep and enormous.

I'm up to date with the chapters and this made me so angry. I just feel sorry for Hanako, he didn't deserve such 'friends'. Honestly, there is no friendly person around him who would support him in any way. Everyone thinks only about themselves, and yet he is the only one who has been called 'selfish', while others do what they want and are doing great and go on with it, being worse than that 'evil Hanako'

The absurdity of this series knows no limits.

Vol only confirmed that. I can't hate or dislike him because I understand him a little, but I haven't trusted him for a long time and I won't trust him,and Kou hasn't good heart,he wants to be seen that way.

[omennatural]

Lie theory & why I like it less than coffee theory

So this theory, not my own, focuses on Aziraphale and lying, his lies to protect Job's children, his lie about making Nina & Maggie fall in love. It theorizes that Aziraphale lied about the true nature of what The Metatron offered him, lied to Crowley to push him away, to protect him, because the whole question is give me coffee or give me death–heaven, or to have themselves erased from the book of life.

What I really like about this is the clear motivation behind the supposed tie-in to The Metatron asking Nina if anyone asked for death, and the book of life which we didn't know about in season 1. I really like this on paper, the idea of Aziraphale being threatened this way and pushing Crowley away to protect him and do what he has to to save Crowley. I do really like some good angst and sacrificial saving.

What I don't like, though, is that on screen, I don't think Aziraphale's actions speak to him pretending. The man is an awful liar, something we also see a lot in the first season and the second. And it bleeds into other aspects of deception, such as his exploits in the art of magic. Aziraphale gets it right, though, on occasion. The one time his sleight of hand was necessary, he saved his relationship with Crowley from Furfur's otherwise quite successful investigation. And most impressively, he quite convincingly was Crowley for a bit. He played it up a bit, but truthfully, that imitation was far out of character for him since he's really quite awful at it otherwise. Desperate times, I suppose. These are desperate times, too, but when you watch it, it reads that he's just too excited to get the words out. We all know what that's like, to be so excited you struggle to get the news out. He's excited, genuinely. I can't see it as a deception. And I would presume that if the Metatron threatened him, and especially if he threatened Crowley, that he'd of had a much different reaction than we see at the end of the conversation.

I also would like to point out that if the Metatron was going to end up threatening Aziraphale, then why sweeten him up so much with the coffee bit? To get him to go talk? I really don't think all that was necessary just to have a private conversation. No, I think the coffee was a manipulation tactic in a long list of them.

I'm not 100% for coffee theory, I have some doubts, but I don't like this one a whole lot simply because I think Aziraphale is more likely to just be blinded by the Metatron's bullshit than Aziraphale pretending to come up with the one thing that would put Crowley off the most and just faking that whole thing.

I just believe that an agent of Heaven has a 77-step plan to manipulate angels/people for its own agenda, especially when that angel/person has made it quite clear they don't want anything to do with Heaven, much easier than an outright threat. At first. They always try the manipulation first, and when they can't manipulate anymore, then it's time for threats. It's the messier way of business, and often more tedious.

The only thing I really know is that Aziraphale must wear his glasses to impair his eyesight because I'd of folded eons ago if I was him. Have you seen turtleneck Crowley?

[ravenmold]

How do you go about picking which fic to read next?

I've decided I'm going to take this opportunity to rant about my favourite AO3 tags some. And also about how a great summary can absolutely sell a fic.

So I've got two modes, as I'm sure most of us fanfic readers have: reading and rereading. Rereading I do a LOT of, I've got so many comfort fics, and the mood for them strikes when I'm stressed or when I'm having a normal Thursday and suddenly the memory of that one specific moment surges up and I have to go find it again (this is a lie my brain tells me. I will read the whole thing again - granted it's under 150k words).

But for new stuff?? Hmm, here follows a few of my favourite things:

For fic authors I'm not familiar with:

General fic things: A nice name. Bonus points if I find out several chapters in that it connects thematically with the plot! No Archive warnings - I'm not the biggest fan of character death etc. If you know me, this doesn't come as a surprise, I like my fics like I like my pets. Fluffy and exciting and comforting. (I will not expand on this simile any more because I realize now it has some major flaws) A sweet spot for words would be >10k and <80k. Not necessary for it to be finished, but I do tend to check finished fics first.

Tags that would definitely reel me in: mutual pining, temporary amnesia, slow burn, fake/pretend relationship, royalty or historical au, time travel/time loops, identity porn, marriage of convenience, workplace au's for some reason, epistolary, kid fic (DONE RIGHT), cheesy romcom crossovers, future fics/time skips, used to date/exes (this is a big one), space operas/sci fi au's, magic and crossovers with other pairings I like. Yeah I guess I like putting my Guys into Situations, no surprise there. Also zombie or apocalypse fics can be fun, if they're not too heavy on the angst. Unless I write it myself.

Summaries: This is the main thing that catches my eye. Probably also not unique there 😂 I like when they're more than two sentences and actually set up the tone and the inciting incident of the fic pretty well. I love a "quirky" premise, if you're like "so character A got cursed to be forgettable and the entire plot happens because of this" I'd be like Hell Yeah I wanna see how that happens!! 😂 I do also like when summaries, combined with the tags, give me an idea of at least like 80% of the fic. I'm not the biggest fan of when an author considers it spoilers if they drop hints about more than the first two scenes. That's what makes fic different from just picking up a random book, imo, and I like to know what I'm in for. That's why I also expect the focus of the summary to be the focus of the fic's main plot. I only find this out later, of course, but we're talking ideal circumstances here.

For fic authors I know/enjoy:

Honestly, same as above but if you manage to hit any one or two elements I'd be interested. I follow a few authors, but not a ton, as I tend to forget to unsub when they move on to new fandoms and then I just live with the emails on random pairings I get 😅

Overall, how I choose new reading material is usually by seeing if my new hyperfixation has my preferred tropes and tags. And by being intrigued by an interesting summary and setup. Once I've worked through all of those, I'll go through the bookmarks of people who've read and enjoyed my favourite fics, and then I've pretty much never dried up on content so far.

Thanks for the ask! This has been really fun to talk about. And I can look back on it in a few and see if my tastes have changed through the years 😊

[fang-and-feather]

Dancing between Emotions

Fandom: Ayakashi: Romance Reborn

Rating: General

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Toichiro/OC (fake date, pre/developing relationship). Small mentions of Shizuki/Futaba

Words: 1920

Prompt(s): Being the MC/LI's fake date for a Christmas party/ball, from the "’tis the season for love" content creation challenge hosted by @xxsycamore and @voltage-vixen

Summary: In need of a date for a party, Toichiro asks Rinka to be his pretend date for the night. Their relationship has been changing and they notice new things about each other the longer she's been working for him. That doesn't mean they get along. Or do they?

Toichiro watched the girl sitting by his aide with interest.

The first time he met Rinka at a party, he didn’t know what to make of her. Way too perceptive for his taste, but her attempts to play back with him were mildly entertaining, especially for a girl of high society.

The second time it was a whole different Rinka, clothes that made people double take her gender, good fighting skills for a human and an almost childish humor.

The third time she was more serious, defensive in an almost aggressive way, but kind underneath. Not exactly fun to interact with, but they were there for businesses, anyway.

And business had led him to what seemed to be a more true Rinka. Beneath the tough and alert facade, she had a softer core that he again found mildly entertaining. She was still way too perceptive, but he knew how to find the small cracks on her armor not to make their working together too boring.

That was mostly why he had invited her as his fake date to this Christmas party. Her reaction to the actual invitation had already been the most entertaining he’d ever seen her.

This wasn’t the change he’d been expecting, though.

Usually calm and brave, Rinka looked startled. Body tense, eyes that darted around inquietly, occasionally frowning at the window, hands on her lap crumpling her dress, to the point she could have torn a hole in it. Sitting across from her friend, Futaba looked worried, but anytime she looked ready to say something, the other girl seemed to change her mind. And they had barely started the ride.

“If you didn’t like the dress, you should have told me.”

That Rinka was hard to get a rise of, he knew well, but absolutely no reaction was unexpected. It looked like she didn’t even hear him.

“Toichiro…” Futaba started, probably trying to tell him off teasing her friend, but Shizuki, on the seat next to his girlfriend, squeezed her hand lightly.

“Mistress Futaba.” Shizuki only called her and shook his head. She looked hesitant, but nodded with a sigh.

Toichiro observed the couple’s exchange. It wasn’t worth interacting with them more than was necessary, either. He actually made a little more effort to be on Shizuki’s good side when the weather was already cold. The last thing he needed during winter was a Snow Spirit angry with him.

So he turned back to Rinka and placed a hand over hers, only to halt her movements before she actually tore a hole in the dress and to get her attention. He wasn’t expecting her to nearly jump off her seat.

“What… what do you think you’re doing?” Wide blue eyes stared at him with a mix of fear, confusion, and anger.

“Oh, dear, are you that afraid of me?”

“O-of you…” her voice trembled, and she looked away, cheeks tinged pink, “of course not. Don’t make me laugh.” Anger returned to her voice, but not to her face. This was the most expressive reaction he had ever gotten from her.

Rinka was returning to normal but, at the same time, being a little more open.

“Really? Because I thought that more plausible than you being this flushed by my touch.”

Toichiro took one of her hands in his, interlacing their fingers when she tried to pull away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rinka hissed, but the blush didn’t leave her cheeks and her eyes still flitted around when he looked at her.

“You are my date. It is natural, is it not?”

“I di-didn’t think this fake date started before we arrived at the party.”

She had stuttered again, and this time not of fear or surprise. Her being so vulnerable was both unsettling and interesting.

Rinka looked over at Futaba and Shizuki on the other side, but the two were too engrossed in their conversation with each other to pay attention to them. On purpose, Toichiro was certain. Not that he was paying enough attention to what they were saying.

“You agreed to be my date for the night. It is already night, isn’t it?”

Her eyes narrowed in thought and quickly widened in realization. The flush of her cheeks became darker and Rinka scowled at him in a poor attempt to keep her composure.

“Lords. You’re so needy.” She grumbled. “Fine, you can hold my hand.” She sighed, but it sounded more like a sigh of relief than annoyance, turning back to the window to avoid his gaze, face still red.

Since the ride was almost over, Toichiro let her be for the remainder of it, amused by how, once in a while, she would squeeze his hand.

Rinka wondered if she was fantasying too much, thinking Toichiro had distracted her not only for his own amusement but also because he noticed her fear.

It was unlikely from the Toichiro she thought she knew but, after a little incident that had her seeing the kitsune in his environment, she had began to wonder if his masks, as much as they were part of his nature, weren’t a defense mechanism as well.

Besides him being a compulsive liar, maybe they weren’t that different.

The party itself wasn’t as bad as Rinka expected. It was as boring as expected, but being by Toichiro’s side, he interacted with the other aristocrats, leaving her to only convey holiday wishes and other messages from her grandmother.

Pretending to be dating wasn’t as awkward, either. Most people only made light comments, all of them nice, but it was clear not everyone was as satisfied as their words would lead other people to believe. Only one man, the host of the party, had made a couple of awkward questions about their relationship, but she -and it would seem that Toichiro too - had been prepared for them.

She was pretty sure that man was the reason Toichiro insisted on having a date for the night.

Also, Toichiro’s usual teasing hadn’t been as annoying.

Maybe she’d gotten used to it. Or maybe she was still shaken from the freaking carriage ride, because she caught herself almost showing signs of being unsettled by him a couple of times.

By the time they had probably spoken to everyone at least once, Rinka was already thinking Toichiro wasn’t so bad and could even be fun, if he wasn’t constant and likely accidentally - in most cases because he could have guessed some things about her, but not everything - triggering her defense mode.

Odd mood for her to be in. Maybe it was Christmas. This time of the year usually made her happier and even, sometimes, more sentimental, and despite this being the last place she wanted to be, the atmosphere was still quite festive, with beautiful, traditional western decoration.

She parted from Toichiro, who was still talking to some people, with the intent of getting a drink, despite Shizuki’s insistence on attending to her. If it wasn’t something for his master, he should enjoy his time with his girlfriend.

Her break was short-lived, though, because Toichiro was soon by her side.

“You’re not running away from me, are you?”

These kinds of jokes got tiring fast. Why was he so obsessed with her suddenly?

“Running away from humans.” Not a lie, although she didn’t mind a break from Toichiro either. “Do you need me for something?”

“For a dance.” The usual smirk didn’t leave his face, and Rinka considered if it was a joke or not.

“I’m not great at dancing with people. You wouldn’t want me to embarrass you, right?”

Rinka also meant it as a joke. She couldn’t care less. But it was true she had never danced with another person before. All of her grandmother’s attempts to get someone to teach her had been swiftly dodged so far, and she wouldn’t regret it.

“Couples dance at parties like this. I’m sure not everyone is convinced of our partnership, so we have to act accordingly.”

Sounded like the truth, but his face told her otherwise. Yet, it was logical enough, and she was aware not everyone had readily accepted their lie.

What could go wrong, anyway?

“Fine. One dance, then you find whatever excuse you need and let me go home.”

“Deal.” He offered her a hand, and she took it, letting him guide her to where other couples were already dancing.

Rinka was surprised that Toichiro agreed so swiftly, but maybe he actually expected her to do something that would turn into amusement for him. Or maybe he wanted to see himself free of her, too.

Neither was unlikely and she would be fine with either.

But when he stopped, facing her and put one hand on her waist, pulling her closer, her body stiffened and suddenly all of her knowledge and usual grace and swiftness escaped the grasps of her brain.

Rinka wasn’t used to physical contact that she hadn’t initiated. It was small and over her clothes, but she could feel his heat. And the rest of his body was so close, any movement would make her brush against him. She started to feel trapped again, but it didn’t come with the usual fight response she’d felt during the carriage ride.

“Rinka!”

The girl almost jumped and ran away when Toichiro called her in a low, amused tone, so close to her ear. And she hadn’t even noticed him move.

Biting her bottom lip, she prayed no one had noticed her spacing out and held onto him properly. That wouldn’t help.

Toichiro started guiding her into the dance. At least it was easy not to step into someone when you were aware of their every movement.

“You have gone such a fine shade of scarlet. Are you unwell!”

He could at least stop joking for five minutes! Or was he trying to distract her again? Well, it wasn’t helping this time.

“Yes. There is too much movement of too many people. It feels stuffing.”

Toichiro chuckled, no doubt at some face she was making. Why was he having such an effect on her that night?

No. It wasn’t just that night. It had started since she had hunted down a particular thief to somewhere close to his village and the two had worked together into something different from what he wanted of her.

“Interesting. You don’t react when I try to get you to, but when I react on your own, when I don’t?”

Rinka couldn’t deny it without lying. She hated that he was right.

Was it just because she wasn’t used to being so close to a man for longer than a simple hug? Was it the little alcohol from earlier?

No. She wouldn’t have reacted like this to another man. In fact, she would have already left if it was with anyone but a friend, and a friend wouldn’t have made her feel so conscious of him but, at the same time, not prompted her to run away.

In fact, she considered running away, took a deep breath and tried to think of an excuse, but her mind had turned inward and gotten in the way of the instincts guiding her, and Rinka lost her footing. It would have been a disaster if Toichiro wasn’t holding her.

“So, you really did fall for me?”

“Dance is over. Let’s just go home.”

Toichiro was amused despite her anger and unlikely to drop the ‘dating’ act until she was dropped at her house.

It would be a long carriage ride back.

If it seems like I am using the same OC in different fandoms, it is because they're only slight different versions of the same character.

I was also going to elaborate more on the actual party, but it is my first time actually writing Toichiro and he is exhausting, but I thought he fit the prompt nicely and I think I wrote too much given these circunstances and don't know how well I got him... I would need much more time to write more and better of him and I still want to finish at least one more fic for this challenge.

[voxiiferous]

Vox, Hellaina, and the realization that you should really, really run.

...Or that it's too late to do so.

Under the cut is an expanded drabble from the hc in @a-hazbin-spider and I's thread!

Decades ago , Vox decided he would only ever bring Hellaina to the Porn Studios when it is absolutely necessary. Sometimes, you just acknowledge that your lover and your PA despise each others guts and move on. Sadly, that is not always an option. Like now.

The disadvantage of he and Valentino having actual business dealings alongside personal ones, is that it means both contract renewal season with him, and the other rings, and as Hellaina has become his go-to liaison the last few months with Lust, it seems sensible to bring her.

"C'mon sugartits, you're even more anal about this than Voxxy,"

And there go all his chances of this going peacefully. The bartender looks at him sympathetically. "Pardon me," he says. Apparently expecting them to play nice for less than an hour was too much to ask. He looks between the two of them, no bloodshed, no weapons, Val looks smug and Hellaina looks... deceptively not murderous. That's a good place to start.

He cuts into the conversation, with an easy grin. "Maybe we should reschedule this for another day? Nothing needs to be on paper for a few more weeks yet." And before then, he'll make sure to brush up on all the information Hellaina's gotten, so he doesn't have to worry about these two in the same room again.

"Fine with me," she says, smile tight, and Val waves his cigarette dismissively.

It's a week later when it all goes wrong.

His phone chimes, the specific notification that signals Valentino's arrival at the tower. "I'm sure we can wrap up here," he says to Hellaina, and she looks up from her tablet with a clearly fake look of innocence. "Oh no, what did you do?"

The placid expression melts away, replaced by the sharp look that he expects. She turns the tablet towards him, security feeds pulled up. Val entering the building and a bucket of... something pouring over him. Val entering the elevator and feathers being added as another bucket pours. There's no sound, but he doesn't need it to recognize the obscenities Val is saying, even more so when the elevator opens on the sixth floor, and one of his accountants looks at Valentino and the elevator, a puddle of... "what is that?"

"Sugar, honey, feathers, a few other things."

The accountant steps away, clearly deciding to take the next elevator, and the door closes.

"Tarred and feathered?"

"I'm making him into a sugary tit." She answers; shameless, smug.

Feathers... ah, the bird. He should have guessed that the comment from last week wouldn't go unrewarded. And if she were anyone else, he knows she'd have Hell to pay, but he also knows that her opinion of her position is summed up in the opinion that she gets most of the benefits of being an Overlord, and none of the disadvantages.

The door to his penthouse opens, and he watches as Vark leaps towards the... dripping moth, lapping hungrily, and happily at the sodden and feathery coat.

"Who are you expecting to clean this?"

She blinks. "You think I'd plan my revenge without that in mind? It's already being dealt with."

The final bucket is less of a bucket, so much as the shower-head dropping it on Valentino before the water starts.

Twenty minutes later, he and Hellaina watch from the window as Valentino walks right back out, and a knock on the door sounds. "Come in,"

One of the new special effects techs walks in, wringing his hands together. "Mr. Vox, sir, your uh. Mr. Valentino, sir, he wants me to tell you that quote, 'we're through Voxxy,'".

He counts to 5 in his head. "Thank you, you can go." The messenger leaves without another word, clearly glad to be dismissed rather than torn to shred.

He looks at Hellaina through the corner of his screen. "Are you even going to pretend to be upset at my collapsed relationship?"

"Do you want me to be?"

"It might be nice," He considers for a moment, shaking his head. "But no, it wouldn't be genuine anyway."

Well, at least it hadn't ended with his screen broken again.

[epicmusic42]

Obi-wan finally addresses the questions from reporters about his relationship with Senator Bail Organa when they start insinuating that the man is cheating on his wife. The couple might insist it's unnecessary, but he can read the stress it's causing them in their eyes—no Force necessary.

"As dear and close of friends as the Organas are," he assures the reporters, "there isn't anything untoward happening. And even if there was, Breha would certainly be the one instigating it." The implication that he's a visitor to the couple's bed gives the press their gossip, but helps prevent rumourmongering.

A bit of petty revenge against his own love, ensures that they won't. Unbecoming of a jedi, perhaps, but she won't mind.

"Really, the Organas have been a comfort over the years. They certainly aren't anything more than friends. I'm afraid that if you're looking for my torrid affair, you won't have any luck. Satine and I were... shockingly mature about everything when I consider how young we were."

Of course that just has the reporters more eager.

"I was her guard during the Mandalorian Civil War. Well, one of them, anyways. My Master and I were sent to guard her family. Of course, then there was her father's assassination practically before we had arrived. We hadn't even been introduced"

Sadly, he isn't dramatising their introduction.

"My Master and I were able to rescue Satine and Aajanath before anything happened to them. We spent over a year on the run, and well, we fell in love." He doesn't have to fake the wistful look, he would have stayed for her, for aliit.

"We did discuss. But I would have had to give up being a jedi and she could never ask that of me. She insisted that I go back, finish my training. I insisted we stay in contact, that we would discuss things when I was a Knight. Only I ended up with Anakin practically before I was knighted. And do you know what she did?"

He laughs, inviting the reporters in on the joke even if they likely don't understand it.

"She sent me a birikad! A carrying harness for an infant," he makes sure to clarify. "As though Anakin wasn't already half my height and ready to start preparing for his verd’goten if he was mandalorian. And she insisted on meeting him. Fussed over him and insisted on teaching him mando'a at least."

He shakes his head, pretending to hide a melancholic smile.

"If I'm honest, we were always long distance, but we did live as though we were married. As best we could anyways. I really don't know what would have happened to anakin if she hadn't helped teach what she could. It really did help him find balance."

He waits. There are two ways this could go. It depends on how much they latch onto his last comment or remember that he did NOT mention Bo-Katan.

"Master Kenobi," one reporter asks, eyes bright and attention sly in the Force, "the late Duchess raised her nephew. However, his parentage was never clarified and he does bear a strong resemblance to you..."

That would be because Korkie was adopted, also Stewjoni, and likely from the same clan. He remembered when Aajanath had adopted the boy because Satine had been furious.

Aajanath shouldn't have even left home with their health, and they'd come home half-dead with a toddler bundled in their spare shirt. And then Aajanath had declared that they'd adopted the child, who'd already lost one family in a bloodbath. Aajanath, who would be lucky to survive the year—and that was with a cloned lung.

Satine had raged for hours at her sibling's idiocy for claiming a child who had already lost their parents, only to march away and leave them with an aunt who was at constant risk of assassination.

...she had also had to yell at him that he was a jedi then.

"Korkie isn't my son. We likely do share a blood relation, but I am quite certain that he's Aajanath's. Besides, the timing doesn't work out. He's a couple years too young to be mine. The next time I saw Satine would have been about the time he was born."

He pauses, as though he's considering. "I wouldn't put it past her. To hide a child from me, that is. I went back to finish my training and if I knew we had a child I would have returned to Mandalore without hesitation. ...I wouldn't expect her to continue to hide it after I took anakin on."

"Well," he adds, like it's an afterthought, "not unless they had already left home. I could see her keeping it quiet for their safety, then."

It is not, he reflects later, actually a bit a revenge. Satine is dead and she hid their relationship more to protect him than herself. If he had decided to leave for their aliit then she would have happily told people.

They might have implied to certain factions that she stole him. Let certain clan heads think that she had sent him back because she wanted him to be trained, not because she refused to let him simply give up his dreams for her. But that was politics.

If she was alive, she would have commed him and yelled at him for not warning her. Lamented the fact that she was going to have to explain to half her parliament that, no, she could not, in fact, simply marry him. And then she would have held a press conference.

She probably would have simply announced that yes, she did hide the existence of their daughter from him for years. Would have poked fun at him for how many times she needed to remind him that he was a jedi, simply because her aliit, because their aliit was struggling and his vows to the Order meant he could not swear to be there or even go when he was able to. She probably would have no qualms about outright telling the galaxy that, while she told him when it became apparent that he couldn't simply leave the Order, when in her eyes he adopted a jedi child, she maintained the lie to the rest of the world.

It was well known, among mandalorians, at least, that the Kryze family was still strongly kalevalan. It was also well known that Satine and Aajanath's sure had come from Wild Space and no one was really sure what species they were.

The results had been obvious enough. Satine and Aajanath had gestated for nearly three years before hatching. To the immense relief of their Clan, House, and all of Kalevala.

Given the political upheaval of the time, no one had questioned the idea that her parents didn't share the news that they were expecting again. And Clan Kryze was loyal. as soon as Satine had realized she was pregnant, they had figured a plan for how the egg had been keep safe and cared for in case anyone was asked.

Bo-Katan had not, thankfully, taken nearly as long to gestate as her mother did. She had hatched a month earlier than the normal ten months that kalevalans gestated for. (Right on time for a stewjoni child to be born Satine was reassured).

However, Bo-Katan was willful. And stubborn. And wanted to be a soldier not a politician. Which was gine, but did jot negate the need for a politician's education given her position. ...or who hired most soldiers to be honest.

She had run away to live with her "uncle" Pre at 8 years old. Just old enough to start training for her verd’goten.

Pre had been willing, and it solved Satine’s issue of extremists who refused to see accept that self-defense was necessary objecting to her training her daughter. So she told him no live fire until after Bo passes, and trusted the man who'd been helping her hold Mandalore together for nearly a decade.

And so the first time Obi-wan met their daughter had been when Death Watch marched on Sundari.

Satine would absolutely have had some petty revenge in how she told the story. Obi-wan actually hadn't. Though he had decided to allow himself some going in.

Well, he supposes he ought to make sure the temple guards know to let Bo in if she does show up then. If she's anything like him and Satine, pettiness would have actually calmed her down some.

Hopefully, she won't arrive during a saber class.

Cooper woke me up two hours before I needed to be awake and I can’t get back to sleep, so here’s 4am blogging:

What if the reason that Anakin and Padme were able to hide in plain sight for so long is that it’s really common for Jedi to have friendships that seem unusually close and intimate to outsiders?

Like. We actually do have some canon evidence that it’s normal for a Jedi to be besties with a major political figure! Obi-Wan and Bail, Qui-Gon and Valorum–wasn’t Yoda pals with the Wookie leader?

Jedi having Epic Friendships/brothers-in-arms-type relationships regardless of venue is probably their default cultural portrayal, in-universe. “Jedi are just super intense about that stuff, it’s the Force or something. It doesn’t mean they want to fuck you.”

…This means that in the good end AU where Palpatine explodes and Anakin’s secrets come out there’s a massive cultural whiplash to the effect of, “does that mean they were all fucking in secret?!”

Yoda and Chief Tarfful have to publicly deny any allegations of a sexual relationship.

[afreakingdork]

Attempted Execute of Non-Executable Memory - Chapter 3

RotTMNT Michelangelo x Kendra

Mikey is stoking the flames in this week's chapter art by @Pandlien

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings/Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Revenge, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Dating, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Love Confessions, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Step-Parents, Neglect, First Kiss, First Generation Immigrant Kids, Acculturation, Loss/Removal of Cultural Identity, Prison Time

Synopsis: After hitting the lowest of lows, Kendra has carved out a simple life for herself. She’s content enough to live this way until opportunity walks through her place of employment in the form of an orange turtle mutant. She just needs to get close enough to him to plant a virus in his infuriating brother’s servers, but will she be infected long the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 🧡 Previous

“I decided. I’m over your double standard thing already. Done before it started.”

Mikey perked up from where he, yet again, had beaten her to their location.

Kendra thought ‘location’ was a generous descriptor. 

Despite everything that had transpired during their first date, this man had the audacity to send her a pin that vaguely landed outside a home.

There were pizza restaurants both up and down said sidewalk, but for now they were smack dab in a strip of residential abodes. 

“Is it a double standard to be over double standards when one is, in fact, doubling up themselves?” He teased and pocketed the phone he’d been clacking away on. 

“Don’t start. What’s with the creepy invite?” She glanced around. “You said pizza. Which place? Why are we meeting here?”

From looks alone, the neighborhood was fine.

It was average enough. 

It wasn’t her first place to kill someone.

Though if one needed to hide a body, she guessed there could be sense in that.

This wasn’t really the sort of place one would expect a murder.

 “Our last date was kinda…”

“A bust.” She didn’t let him drag it out. 

“Not quite what either of us hoped.”

She folded her arms.

Mikey took it as a sign and moved forward with desperation scenting him. “And I don’t want a do-over because I like that we figured some stuff out. You look amazing, by the way. I love that you look like you can kick my ass if necessary.”

“I like to keep my options open.” She glanced away and tried not to pout because he had read her all too easily.

She’d gone for a sporty look both because it was comfortable and because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his strength. She was going to figure out tonight why that was. He hadn’t mentioned anything particularly athletic amongst his hobbies. Since he could seemingly break her if he wanted and she would be trying to pry information out of him, it seemed like running shoes were the only sensible footwear. Chunky versions of those were in fashion, at least she thought. Maybe that was already outdated. Maybe it was timeless. She wasn’t really sure and she hadn’t cared to check.

She liked how she looked.

He wasn’t going to dare call her uncomfortable.

She could put on an act.

She was going to decimate this date.

She was going to get to his damn house.

She was going to end this charade.

Mikey had been talking the entire time she had been ruminating on her choices. 

“So I thought it’d be fun! You always have a response for everything! What better way to catch someone like that speechless!?”

She blinked once. “I don’t like surprises.”

“It’s not a surprise; it’s a date.” Mikey threw a correcting finger up.

She made it obvious she was looking over the area again.

There were trees lining this particular sidewalk.

They helped shade the Row homes.

Ones that were coveted for their approximate distance to pizza and wine.

It was exhaustingly domestic. “Ah, so not a surprise, just boredom.”

“It shouldn’t be!” He huffed and took a leading step southbound. “Look, the restaurant is just down here!”

Kendra marked off the other pizza place in her mind. “Taking me to a secondary location. Great move.”

Mikey blew a loud raspberry and laughed. “I would not kill you in Queens!”

He chuckled forward and she followed after to glare in his face.

He wiped a tear from his eye. “Anyway, this neighborhood is too nice!”

Her eye twitched.

“Well actually…” He reviewed the street and sent her a haunting side glance. “Maybe it’s just sleepy enough that I could get away with it…” 

“I would kill you before you even got the chance!” She stomped her next step.

“Sure, sure!” He waved her off.

“Don’t test me.”

“Never! What’s up with that, by the way? Testing someone you want to go out with and all that jazz is totally toxic. You shouldn’t put that kind of pressure on someone you're interested in, but I guess if you wanted to think of it like that, I guess the test is getting to know you? There’s questions and answers which is sort of like a test.”

“You know enough.”

“You can never know enough!”

“No, you just find out all the unappealing shit that makes someone as unattractive as possible and learn how numb you have to be to deal with it.”

“Okay, when I said I like real romance, that is not what I meant. That’s way too bleak!” Mikey’s whole body lolled with his head to view her.

“That’s life.”

“That is not life! That’s purgatory! Who are your role models!?”

She sent him a warning look.

He backed off in a move she found surprising.

He went quiet and they made it two blocks before she felt a pull.

Checking back in found him focused on the street.

He looked to be thinking.

She guessed he realized he had screwed up, but he was being melodramatic.

It wasn’t like she hated him.

She needed him.

She could deal with his incessant attitude.

He just needed to be taught his limits.

He was like a stupid dog in that way. 

The comparison seemed poignant to her. 

It made this walk to the pizza place seem like a way for him to run off his extra energy. 

He would be a better date that way and if that was the case, she could also appreciate it.

She threw him a bone. “Who are yours if your life is so peachy?”

“Oh, oh! The top of the charts is Lou Jitsu!” Mikey karate chopped the air.

Kendra guessed that had to be a sign that he was some sort of martial arts guy. “Huh.”

“He was an action star and, apparently, my dad, which was kinda cool and kinda weird to find out later in life.”

“Isn’t your dad a rat?”

“Yeah, I think that’s why I didn’t get the resemblance or make the connection sooner.” Mikey chuckled.

“Must be nice living in ignorance. That and being rich or whatever.” There had been enough signs of their economic status and a movie star father further conflated the picture. 

Mikey burst out laughing.

She steered away from where she’d been walking next to him.

“W-wait, don’t-!” He fought off his guffaw. “I’m sorry, that’s just because…”

She eyed him warily.

“No. Not at all. We are not rich. I didn’t mean to laugh like that, but can you imagine?!”

She shoved her hands hard into her pockets.

“We grew up in hiding. Everything we owned was whatever washed down the sewers or stuff that was thrown away. Dad kinda… I guess…” Mikey sucked air through that gap in his teeth. “It’s a long story, but enough about me! Besides, we’re…”

He slowed and she followed suit.

She looked up to find tall bushes lining a pair of double wrought iron gates. They hid nothing and she could clearly see there was a nice patio setup for a restaurant inside. Fairy lights were strung over and filled the space with a soft glow that only further illuminated that not a soul was there.

She knew this place from her research.

It was not one of the pizza places. 

It was a winery.

From what she had read, it was loosely connected to the actual restaurant next door. 

It was also supposed to be closed.

“May I present our venue for the evening!” Mikey pulled the chain on the gate and it unraveled without a lock.

Kendra was slow to slip a hand out of her pocket and into her bag where she squeezed that mini pepper spray can.

Mikey reviewed her genially and seemed to rush. “So my buddy owns the place and I just so happened to help him set up a wood-fire oven for tasting nights! They bring stuff over from next door. Synergy or some other fake word.”

“Another favor…” Kendra soured further.

Mikey pushed open both the gates in one shove. “Nope, not a favor and no bringing our last date into this! We’re not forgetting, but we’re trying again! This isn’t a do-over; this is new. What���s done is done and this is us going out a second time!”

He charged forward and Kendra was left to review the space.

She would die getting revenge.

Her body was going to be bled and bottled for posh New Yorkers to drink.

She guessed that would be a legacy.

She’d at least ruin this place’s credibility.

She marched toward her doom with her head held high and didn’t immediately find Mikey.

What she found were bricks laid in a nicely winding curve. It was a pathway that led around the many cutesy black metal patio tables. They were intricately woven and blossoming up with their chairs like petals for intimate settings. Foliage soaked the place almost as much as the glowing glass bubbles. It was darkened because of the evening, but there was a romantic and not haunting feel to the golden glow that bathed the place. On the side attached to the restaurant, some lesser seating was perched under an awning. Plebeians probably sat there on rainy days to keep reservations and she scoffed straight into the other direction.

Right into the licking flames of a fire and Mikey manipulating it.

He had rolled his sleeves up and his forearm flexed as he shoved what looked like a metal rod into the coals. Little flame fragments leaked out angrily from his prodding and shimmered a similar shade to his mask. His tongue sprouted, a bit of pink against his darker green face and she looked away.

There was one table set up much nicer than the rest. It was closest to him with the safe distance to the flames to save its fancy tablecloth and plateware. There was no silverware at all and she released the pepper spray to approach. 

Mikey was funny in that way. 

Two dates wasn’t enough data to wonder, but Kendra had a feeling Mikey was the type to do things wordlessly. She wasn’t sure yet if he sought praise, but he was obviously the type to bend over backwards for others.

It sounded exhausting.

She already had enough to deal with when tending to her own needs, taking care of someone else felt like far too much. Now closer, she could see that the supposed candles dotting their table were flameless. Maybe he had dealt with a small fire in the past and that seemed similarly poignant. He was thinking ahead, of all these contingencies, which were fine in a scheme, but unnecessary to daily life. It was as redundant as having fake candles when a roaring fire was already spewing enough light.

“Okay, now, you gotta close your eyes!”

“No.” Kendra Took the far seat from him so she could watch.

“I’m thinking pretty please and all the ice cream toppings in the world won’t convince you?”

“Not a chance.” She sat, folded one leg over the other to exhibit her comfort, and smirked.

Mikey sighed.

Kendra cocked a brow.

“Alright… Fine.” He gave off the impression that the situation was hopeless. 

“What?” She felt her attention flare. 

“Don’t be too mad, but I gotta do this…”

It lit the hairs on the back of Kendra’s neck and she cursed herself for letting go of her weapon.

He had robbed her of knives as well and she thought it was cute.

She prepared to flip the entire table when a shimmer caught her eye.

A fleck from the fire appeared to fly into the air as if it were alive. It glowed orange and warm before it burst as if yawning to life. It sputtered, making little gibberish sounds that could almost be mistaken as wood crackling, but it was nowhere near its source. It rolled on the very air itself and rose in what seemed to be a happy spiral. She followed it while grabbing her chair and was about to chuck the seat at it when it exploded like a firework. The residuals of it rained down stardust that sparkled amongst the fairy lights.

“What… the… fuck…?”

“Done!” Mikey dropped down in the seat across from her.

“What was that?!” She prepared to strangle him if need be.

She realized then she could have broken the plate and used a shard as a shiv. 

Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner?

“Just a little distraction since you were being stubborn.”

Indignity hit her like nausea. “What is your problem?!”

“I know I said no surprises, but I don’t count this. This wouldn’t have had the same impact if you saw it before! It’s better you see it when it’s done so…”

“That’s stupid!”

“Maybe wait until you see what I’m talking about before you-”

“I should leave.”

Mikey let out one breath. “Okay. Go if you want.”

It was a little too even and grated her nerves. “That’s it? I just leave? What’s your angle?”

“No angle!” Mikey threw his hands up while also shaking out his napkin. “I’m only asking for you to see. It’s going to be worth it, but you gotta see. You can’t just give up before it’s even started. If you want that then you can go ahead, but I’m into a little razzle dazzle. That’s me. That’s literally what I’m made of. I think life’s more fun that way.”

“I didn’t ask!”

“Uh, you kinda did…”

“It doesn’t make sense! Why bother?!”

“I just explained-.”

“Yeah, some mumbo jumbo about nothing. Sparkles or whatever you said! There’s no point! I’ll see when I see it. It won’t be any better later!”

“Kendra-”

“Don’t Kendra me!”

“Do you want me to call you something else?”

“No! You should keep my name out of your mouth!”

Mikey took a single breath and faced her completely. “Look. I’m doing this because I want to.”

“That’s it! That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“That I don’t want to? That I don’t want you to see the best? Why not? You deserve it!”

“Oh, do I!? You get to decide if I’m worthy!? You don’t know a damn thing! You’re just some mutant who can’t stop showing off! I was on to you and you dropped it! You know if you talked about it then you’d give it away You’ve got muscles! Magic! Money! You can’t stop flaunting all your connections!”

Mikey waited.

“And now… What?! You try to make a fool of me!? With your stupid fire magic! For some reason I’m supposed to sit all dumb for and see?! Ugh! You make me so mad I don’t know why I’m here!!”

Something beeped.

Kendra wanted to tear the source to shreds.

She searched wildly for it and Mikey stood.

She watched him with broiling blood as he walked over to the oven and showed her a timer.

He clicked it off and grabbed a paddle.

She watched on as he shoved it into the flames and there was a scraping noise.

She sank into her seat.

Her fuse was especially short tonight.

Decimate the date had been right in a sense.

She was destroying her own chances.

Yet again.

She couldn’t let well enough be.

This is why she didn’t actively pursue tech. 

She left her phone as an older model. 

She avoided access to better Wi-Fi. 

It was safer.

This was what happened when she tried to tackle her past. 

It dredged up that destructive person. 

She had to operate on what was left when that was put out of her mind. 

She heard a clink of hollow metal and dug into her bag.

She would splurge on a rideshare.

She wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

“Well… For better or worse…”

Kendra slowed where she had just woken up her phone.

She looked up to find a giant cloche had been set as the centerpiece of the table.

The air smelled like fresh garlic bread.

She closed her lips tight so as not to salivate.

Her nose betrayed her and coaxed her close. 

“Our meal for the evening.” Mikey grabbed the knob of the cloche and lifted it with a flourish.

It revealed a giant and gorgeously pockmarked pizza. The lid’s spin caused the steam to spiral up from the blotted pie. It was a classic Margherita to her eye and perfectly proportioned. The tomato sauce burned a rich red through the yellow tint of the lights and the mozzarella popped in gorgeously contrasting pools. Mikey then set the cloche aside and returned with a bushel of basil which he tore off and let rain down over the pie. Each leaf made contact and curled ever so slightly from the heat.

The steam caught her by the nostrils and pulled her further forward.

When was the last time she had been able to afford a whole pie?

She’d been settling for those damned dollar slices.

Greasy and filling as pizza was meant to be.

“This is what I wanted to show you.” Mikey offered. “For you, but it’ll be better after a small rest. It helps it set and not be burning lava hot.”

“How long?”

“5-10 minutes.”

“Great.” Her voice deadened.

“I’m not crazy about silence, but I can do it. We can just sit here. You can eat and head out. I get it.”

She frowned deeply.

She recognized that deference. 

He had said it before. 

He had thought she had asked him out as a prank. 

It was a sign like his aversion to fire. 

He knew its power because he apparently had it. 

How many things had he lit by accident?

How many times had he been fooled on dates?

Had she ever reassured him?

She said she meant it, but had she ever acted like it. 

She doubted his every action and acted like he was the one trying to pull one over on her.

He made mistakes, but he had never been disingenuous. 

She was exhausted. 

He made her exhausted. 

She made herself exhausted. 

She disliked the latter. 

She didn’t want to keep listening to herself. 

Maybe she needed to chance listening to him. 

He had only asked her to see. 

What more did she have to lose at this point?

Heat from the pizza slipped up and through the cracks in the lights above.

She replayed the evening, this evening, and stopped at the first question. 

“If it wasn’t a favor, what was it?” She chanced.

Mikey took a second to figure out what she meant before he lightly chuffed. “To use the venue? I bullied the owner.”

Her eyes went straight to his. “Yeah, right. You’re soft! Trying not to hurt people’s feelings.”

“It depends, but I did this, I swear! I came by the day after our first date and hounded Bertrand, the owner.”

She evaluated him. “I guess I can see you talking until some guy’s ears bleed.”

“Totally, I’m trained in the art of little brother. I harassed him until he let me use the place. Sure, he owed me for the pizza oven, but I didn’t use that. I asked if I could use the patio after hours and he said no! So maybe then I mentioned the oven, but I’ve done a heck of a lot more than that! We go back! I know pizza! I gave him tips! He should have done it out of the kindness of his heart!”

She had a similar question to earlier and tried not to bite her lip.

She was going to ruin her lipstick enough with the pizza.

“I… struck a nerve earlier.”

She sharpened her gaze.

“I don’t want to apologize. I don’t think I should.”

She tried not to bob her head because that was a certain amount of stunning.

“I’m standing by everything I’ve said or done. Messing up and all. Our second date had to be here. It had to be where there wasn’t anyone else. No peer pressure. I wanted to make sure it was a place where you could be you without all the preconceived bullshit. I made pizza. Everyone likes pizza. I tried to make the most universal pizza outside of cheese because, hell, you can get cheese anywhere. A good Margherita though? People can pretend you can find one outside of Italy, but…!”

“Let me guess, yours is as good?”

“As if! Absolutely not! I just did what I could! Fresh, good ingredients. Seasoning! Cooked to perfection. A good pizza is the company anyway.”

“What company?” The sound hit hollow to her ears.

She hadn’t meant to say that.

She didn’t even mean him.

She saw herself.

She saw how she stood outside all those tourist trap shops and ate a 99 cent pizza just to get by on the carbs.

Devoured while standing before she moved on.

Long gone were the days when her, Jeremy, and Jason would attack a stack.

Her eyes burned and she decided the pizza was too hot.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s ready to cut.”

She waved for him too and was haunted.

Her family never ate pizza.

Deborah Ricci disliked the oil.

She would rather cook bland food she liked.

Before her, they had pizza once a week. 

A Byerly family event.

She could just remember her mom complaining about the dried red pepper flakes.

Mikey took her plate.

Her eyeshadow must have flaked into her eye.

The table cloth blurred.

Her tableware was returned to her with a slice.

She moved on autopilot to grab it.

A hundred hers from high school took the first bite.

She laughed when Jeremy got cheese stuck to his glasses.

They laughed when Jase got a cheese pull so long he couldn’t keep reaching.

They used a drone that day to measure how far it would go.

She took a bite.

The tang of the tomatoes perfectly blended into the richness of the mozzarella.

It was piping hot and the bottom felt perfectly crisp to her fingers.

She ate more.

She devoured the memories.

They were long gone.

She ate through cafeteria pizza in the mess hall.

It was plastic crust covered in plastic cheese served on a plastic tray.

They had it once a month.

Like clockwork.

Prison was a rigid schedule.

She tore through the triangle and through the perfect chew of the crust.

She grabbed another slice from its point.

Cheese lubricated her fingers.

She ate it with the same speed except she took time to fold it.

The toppings curled inward and she caught sight of that leopard spotting.

It was perfect.

She heard herself growl as she tugged a bite.

Something feral, something current.

She stuffed the whole of the crust in her mouth and struggled to chew.

She swallowed too soon and let it burn going down.

She licked her fingers.

One by one.

She then looked out.

Her partner was watching as if bewitched.

He looked as though he hadn’t taken a single bite himself.

“Not bad.” She decided for him before taking a third slice.

Mikey lifted his piece with both hands and chomped down on the pointed tip.

He was thoughtful in contrast and Kendra examined her plate.

She had just decided to savor he next when Mikey slowed. “It’s alright.”

She snorted once.

A chuckle caught in Mikey’s throat.

“I didn’t grow up poor.” She spoke suddenly and picked at the pie.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She adjusted in her seat. “Went that way when I got out of jail.”

“Oh…” His voice was surprisingly even. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” She went for a glass beside her and saw it was empty.

Mikey manifested a pitcher shined with condensation from somewhere and filled it for her. 

As ice chunks fell in for clunks against the side, the water level growing set her resolve. “I’ve done two stints.”

Mikey said nothing more.

She told him.

Not about her mom.

Not about how she missed Jeremy and Jason.

Not about Deborah Ricci.

She kept it clean and gave him a redacted version of her history from presumably the point he cared about:

After she became aware of his existence.

High school dropout.

Prison.

Parole.

GED.

Prison.

Parole.

It was so he would understand.

She had been trifled with too long to deal with his nonsense of worth.

Whatever one he had assigned to her was against her will.

She wasn’t some fun to be had because she didn’t fit into whatever societal mold he saw fit.

She was a quick play that he could bed while she had other plans.

He’d never get past first base, if he even got that.

She knew exactly how to prolong the event and give that freshen up excuse.

She would be gone before he knew it.

Everything would be back the way it was meant to be.

“That’s… terrible…” He mouthed a few polite minutes after she had finished.

All she could think was, ‘Here we go again.’

She was sick of the pity.

Sick of the admonishment.

Sick of the pretense.

Sick.

“You released all that illegal dirt on verifiable scumbags and you went to jail?!”

Her throat caught.

“The system isn’t just broken, it’s rigged.” He clicked his tongue loud and blew out heated irritation. “But that’s just how it is, huh!? When law enforcement was created to control and oppress, what do you expect?”

He moved to stand as if he couldn’t stand it.

“The gatekeepers did their whole rebrand with ‘serve and protect; and everyone bought in.” He groaned once and took a few steps away. “This seems like bad timing, but I’m so mad… I got these apples! You can do baked apples in campfires and I wanted to try it with the pizza oven. I just… need to move my hands. Work this out.”

She finally looked at him.

He was the picture of anger as he tore out some aluminum foil from a roll. She hadn’t noticed he had a little bin of items presumably to work with the oven. He then took a shiny apple and a smaller knife and made quick work of it. In a single swipe he popped out the area around the stem before swooping downward to clean the core. He then used the knife in a flash to the side where he picked up a pat of butter and shoved it down the cavern. He repeated the process on another apple before abandoning his blade for spices and then finally wrapped the apples up in the foil. He took his first care of the event in putting them in and only when they were perfectly placed did he return. “Wage-labor capitalist garbage! I know you don’t want to hear that. My anger doesn’t do anything for you. I’m sorry.”

Kendra was still staring.

“It wasn’t fair and I hate that.”

“We manipulated your brother into destroying half the city.”

“So!?” He chuffed and rolled his eyes. “We believed Donnie was doing that just cause. I’ve done more property damage alone than all the guys, all the villains, whatever, combined and that was while I was goofing off! Not even fighting anyone!”

She finally blinked.

“Not a contest. Not bragging.” He held his hands up. “Just saying.”

“But you’re considered like what? One of the heroes of New York?”

“Exactly!” He threw his arms up like that was the point.

She felt her lips part, but nothing came out.

Mikey reigned his limbs back in to shove his palms into his eye sockets. “Hero!? Villain!? It’s all whatever fits the narrative better!”

She broke her gaze away to think.

“It’s hypocritical to think of stuff like that. You served your ‘sentence,’ right?” Mikey used air quotes so aggressively it pulled her eye.

“I guess?”

“Or whatever! You did your ‘time.’ You took your ‘punishment’ and then ‘what?!’” He looked at his hands as if they betrayed him by quoting that last part. “You got out to what?! If you were making up for the crime you committed, why were you still damned? It left you poor! If it was meant to ‘rehabilitate’ you then why are there no programs in place to help you once you get out? You get a parole officer that exists to only make sure you ‘don’t do it again,’ and that’s it?! Your record is ruined and that’s your life!”

The air was thick and Mikey appeared to pant on it.

He then sighed loudly to dispel it all. “I did it again. Talking for you. Sorry… I just… Sorry.”

She shrugged.

“It’s been an ongoing thing with my dad. He was convicted in the Hidden City years ago and even though he had a huge hand in helping save the world, that’s both worlds, you know, like the one they condemned him for trying to destroy, but he protected it anyway, and they didn’t even take time off his sentence! He got honors for yokai-kind and a court summons!”

“The action star…?” Kendra’s expression dipped incredulously.

Mikey blinked out of his annoyance.

He looked at her.

He glanced up at the sky. “Uh… No… I, well, have two dads…?”

“Oh…” She pressed the word, unsure of how she should respond based on his reaction. “Being gay is… fine? For the record…”

A noise caught in Mikey’s throat once before he laughed.

“Is that not…?” She frowned deeply.

“No, no! It is!” He held the table to catch himself. “You’re so right. Why was I worried about how you’d take the two dads thing after everything else?! They’re not even together! At least…” He made a disgusted face. “They’re sus. I don’t know sometimes.”

“Is that why you changed the subject earlier?”

“Maybe…” Mikey looked toward the timer that was stuck on the oven.

It read just under a minute left.

He stood and went over to it. “Really it’s exhausting to tell it all. There’s all these bits to explain  like why I did what I did or why someone else did.”

He grabbed a metal rod with a small plate at the end and used it to pull the apples out.

“Maybe I didn’t want to have to explain myself or maybe I didn’t want to scare you off. This whole thing…” He gestured over his face. “... is already a lot.”

“I shouldn’t…” She scratched the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean the ‘some mutant’ thing as bad. That doesn’t matter.” 

He was quiet. 

“The prison thing is a lot.” She offered instead. 

Mikey turned as if that was something new.

Kendra pointedly looked away.

“So… what are you…?” He studied her. 

“What’s the wait time on those things?” She nodded to the foil balls.

“Oh, forever. These things are a million degrees hotter than the pizza. How badly do you want your taste buds?”

“You go then. Tell your story. You… listened to mine…” 

His brow ridge cranned upward. 

“You have until those are ready or we finish this.” She gestured quickly to the pizza and finally picked up her slice. “Whatever’s first. Not both.”

He laughed.

She ate. 

He talked.

She didn’t enforce the rule.

She let him tell it all.

By the time they got to the apples, they were the perfect temperature.

She was not, but her heat was newly directed. 

She wanted to strangle that moronic rat man.

She’d do the same to that ridiculous Baron.

Not to mention the so-called ‘Big Mama.’

Mikey had been forced to rise to some destiny because a bunch of self-absorbed adults had fumbled again and again. Somehow, Kendra held her tongue.Whether it was from the overall theme of the evening, she decided it wasn’t her place to judge. She was no stranger to adults letting her down. She couldn’t really relate to the ninja training or mystical powers, but the rest of the strain, she understood. 

Their conversation carried on long enough that Mikey showed her how to turn the oven off. It moved them outside where they left their trash for that Bertrand guy to clean up. They walked off the calories and volleyed experiences.

“And then you’re the weird one for smelling like cloves and nutmeg when that’s synonymous with Christmas, but I can’t say anything when I’m sitting next to smelly bologna byproduct kid?!” Kendra hissed.

“And people stepped away from me from coming out of a manhole before they even got a whiff!” Mikey waved a hand.

“Annoying!”

“So annoying!” Mikey breathed as if there was fresh air. “You smell good by the way. Not nutmeg which is like a bummer, but something else.”

“Don’t smell me, but thanks.” She shoved him.

He stumbled out and just kept himself from going on the street.

She liked that he took the gentlemanly position there. 

She would use him to block traffic that hit puddles if necessary. 

She fluffed her hair with purpose. 

“You’re lucky yesterday wasn’t my protein mask night. That stuff stinks!”

“Oh!” Mikey made a face and looked about ready to shield his own locks. “I know all about that.”

“Yeah? Which brand-?” A door slammed open on Kendra’s opposite side and took her question.

The sidewalk blurred around her and her arm burned in its socket.

When she got her vision back, she was tucked behind Mikey against a stoop.

A man cursed loud and drunkenly before there was a series of bangs.

Kendra blinked once at the body around her and then inward where Mikey had a hold on her hand.

He must have grabbed it when he tugged her out of the way.

“David, what the fuck are you doing?!” Another man’s voice rose up. “Give me that damn hammer!”

“I’m gonna fix it! Marie wants me to fix it! I’m gonna fix it!”

“That’s not even the back door, stupid. Come in here before someone calls the cops, stupid!”

“The back what…?”

“Come on…” There was a quiet ushering before the door closed and silence once again fell over the sleepy street.

Mikey popped his head out to look before he moved away from her. “You okay?”

“He had a hammer?” Kendra gawked.

“He came out swinging it!” Mikey’s eyes were large.

They shared a look.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she felt compelled.

“Murder neighborhood.”

“Murder neighborhood.”

They both spoke at nearly the same time before turning away from one another.

Mikey laughed.

She shook her head at how ridiculous it all was.

He still had her hand.

When the levity eased off, she glanced down at it, but didn’t pull away.

He had a good grip considering.

It wasn’t strong enough that she felt trapped. 

It was supportive.

She could easily break free from him if she wanted.

“So…?” Mikey followed her eye line.

“So what…?” She looked up from under her lids.

Mikey bowed forward a little and brought her hand up.

He then delicately kissed her knuckles and spoke against them.

“Go out with me again?”

“Are you serious?” She made a face.

“No good?” He lifted his head from her hand.

“It was fine, but it’s the second date. Are you a prude or something?”

“Nah.” He let their conjoined hands drop. “I’d kiss you now.”

She eyed him. “You’re not so where’s the ‘but?’”

“No, ‘but.’ It’s not good enough yet.”

“Not good enough?” She broke free from his hand.

“Not you, us. When we do it’s gonna be the best you’ve ever had.” Mikey took a few cocky steps back and folded his hands behind his head.

“Yeah, right. What kind of talk is that? You sound scared.”

“Me?” Mikey smirked. “Never. You showed your hand though.”

A nervous tick hit the back of her neck and she slapped it. “Showed what?”

“How bad you want to kiss me!” Mikey teased and hopped several more steps away.

He knew.

He knew she would have hit him otherwise.

She gave chase with her bag as a weapon.

He ran to keep out of her target radius. They made it halfway down the road before cop lights started flashing and they booked it the other way.

🧡 NEXT 🧡

Grateful for many things this week like my betas @tmntxthings  @thepinkpanther83 and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[retvenkos]

fake dating...

tw: language A/N: i really was a clown when i said i’d make these short asdfghjkjhgfdfghjkjhgf. also, i have only seen up to season 3 episode 4, so my characterizations are from then.

OH NO, STEVE HARRINGTON HAS ROPED YOU INTO A FAKE DATING SITUATION...

— you maintained from the beginning that it was a stupid idea.

— steve harrington, having outgrown his glory days of highschool, wanted - no, needed - to show the world (*cough* nancy wheeler *cough*) that he was still relevant. that he was still a catch. that he was still the same steve, even if he worked at stupid scoops ahoy and wore this stupid sailor hat.

— it was important, alright?

and okay, so maybe it had something to do with him seeing nancy and jonathan together. and maybe it had something to do with robin’s relentless taunting. and yeah - maybe, beyond that - it had something to do with him basing his self worth off of his relationships with others, or whatever the hell his intrusive thoughts at 2 am were about, but that didn’t change the fact that this - all of this - was necessary.

— and sure, maybe to others there were a thousand ways to go about this, but to steve, there was truly only one thing he could do. 

— and there’s only a few people he could really approach about this, right?

— well, naturally, that’s where you come in.

all things considered, you’re the perfect candidate. neighbor, childhood best friend, not popular per se but a common face in hawkins, fellow starcourt employee... 

truly, there is no better choice.

— but boy are you hard to convince.

>> “date you?”

>> “ah - that’s where you’re wrong. see, we’re just gonna ~pretend~.”

>> “pretend. to date you?”

(and steve can see he’s losing this debate.... fast.)

>> “just for a month?”

>> "steve, i still don't see how being unavailable will make you more sought after. it doesn’t make sense. and besides, isn’t nancy dating jonathan?"

>> "well, first of all, this isn’t about nancy, so... so write that down. and second, that's the whole point."

>> "oh?"

>> "girls always want what they can't have, (y/n). it's why they like... dads and older men."

(and for a long moment you just stand there, blinking at him, half wanting to bleach your ears, and half just,,,,,,, baffled that such a sentence would ever even leave his lips.)

>> "no."

>> "wh— what do you mean 'no'?"

>> "just no."

>> "(y/n)!!!!"

— but eventually you agree. maybe it’s because he promises there’ll be free ice cream in it for you. maybe it’s because you’re bored, and having something to do over the summer would be a nice change of pace. or maybe it’s because of something deeper, still - a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to date steve harrington - a part of you that wants to indulge the fantasy.

don’t think about that last one, though. it’s just a thought that keeps you up at 2 am.

— and so it begins.

— he ropes you into it one friday night, after your respective shifts at work, and so the first thing you decide to do is hang out that night to map out how it all began. you grab some fast food, hang out in his living room, and make a night of it. i mean, backstory is key to any lie, isn’t it? being on the same page felt like an important first step.

>> “alright, so: i asked you out... i don’t know, during your shift at scoops? you hit me with one of those corny pick up lines, and i just couldn’t resist.”

>> “we’ll keep the pick up lines - that’s good - but i have to be the one to ask you out. otherwise, i’ll look like a dweeb.”

>> “you mean fake dating isn’t a dweeb move?”

>> “shut up.”

— and so the story is as follows: two weeks ago, steve hit you with some pick up lines and asked you out. you said yes, and one date became two, and two became three, and after four dates, steve asked you to make it official. tonight. at work.

— after that, you figured it was really just a matter of telling your friends the story. and, of course, being seen together.

— but no, steve was determined to get this right. he had to make sure you both had complementary pet names for each other, that he sent you home with at least two jackets for you to wear around the mall, and that you weren’t going to be nervous every time he complimented you or held your hand.

— you jokingly asked him, then, if he was planning on kissing you now, too, so that ~it would be ~natural~ in the moment.

(you were not expecting him to say yes.)

>> “i mean, you were the one to say we’ve been on four dates already. i’m pretty sure i would have kissed you by now.”

(and at that, you’re more flustered than you ought to be. and shit, you’re not entirely sure you ever got over your crush on him when you were fifteen, and perhaps you should have considered that sooner—)

>>“so... so what? you’re just going to kiss me? right now?”

>> “if you ever stop talking.”

(and you can see it in his smile, then, that dangerous bit of affection that could fan the sparks in your chest into outright flames, if you let it. this wasn’t going to end well. you could tell. or, at least, it wouldn’t end the way you planned.)

— you try to forget about the way his lips felt against yours.

— he offered to walk you home and you let him. in that regard, there wasn’t much to be done. he calls you “sweetheart” when he drops you off and you roll your eyes good-naturedly, but you can’t help the way it lingers in your mind.

>> “see you tomorrow, casanova.”

— the next day you’re off to the races, and the first person you two meet is dustin. he’s oddly okay with it? he claims that he knew it was coming, and that’s enough to make the both of you share a glance.

— during the weekend, you see a few other people, and they don’t seem too taken aback by it. you walk around town holding steve’s hand and wearing his jackets, and no one bats an eye.

it feels easy.... too easy. something had to give.

— but then it’s time for work at the starcourt, and lo and behold, things get complicated. somehow, you two have to convince robin that you are so-totally, actually, truthfully, not-a-practical-joke, dating.

— she can smell your lies, and she is not impressed.

>> “i don’t know how he got you wrapped up in all this, (y/n), but if you’re going to pretend to date someone, at least choose someone that’s not an idiot.”

>> “robin, i already told you, we’re actually dating.”

>> “and i already told you, i don’t believe you.”

>> “robin.”

>> “you can’t convince me, y/n.”

>> “well, we are dating.”

>> “just.... wHy???”

>> “...because he asked me...?”

(and oh, no, that’s a stupid response. you can see it written all over her face. and steve is fidgeting beside you, and you know it will be a bad look if he saves you, now.)

>> “because he asked me........ and he was an idiot about it - wearing that stupid uniform, and stuttering over his stupid pick up lines, and... and he made me laugh... harder than i’ve ever laughed before... and i wanna feel like that forever.”

(and the truth of it’s more raw than you were expecting, but it was convincing. it’s dangerous, how truthful it is. but it is, and it’s hard to take it back, now.)

>> “fine.... but you could do way better, (y/n).”

>> “yeah, whatever.”

(and steve is taken off guard, blinking at nothing. he knew this was going to be hard, pretending to date someone he once had a crush on - feelings that never quite left - but he didn’t quite realize the toll.)

— but you were walking away, and his silence could just be interpreted as being lovesick.

— it goes on for at least two weeks before it barely starts to work. maybe he gets one or two smiles from the other side of the counter, but he barely recognizes them. robin is the one to mention them, but he just shrugs it off. he finds himself thinking instead about the dates he’s planning for the two of you, instead - certainly, taking you out is for show, but he takes note of what you enjoy and what you don’t, and he finds that pleasing you is more important than anything else.

— meanwhile, you’re reconciling with the fact that steve seems more genuine now, than he used to, but it’s still not confirmed to be real. the longer this goes on, the less certain you are that any of this could ever exist outside of the strange limbo you’ve created, where everything means nothing, but nothing could possibly mean something.

— and steve can see that uncertainty it in you, sometimes. he hates it, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. he’s dug both of your graves.

— because really, in the end, it was all for nancy - or, at least, that’s how it started out. it was just to show her he could move on. that he didn’t need her as much as he truly did. this entire act was just to show her that he was whole. that she didn’t leave a void he couldn’t fix.

— but it’s more complicated than that, now. whatever awkward, residual-and-romantic feelings were between you when it all began grew in size, and it’s near impossible to look away. but can this - whatever this is - stand on its own? without the lie? because you really did mend what nancy left bleeding, and you found a place of your own in his heart - big and warm and all-encompassing.

(if you couldn’t let this continue - if you found his love wasn’t palatable when it was no longer a lie - steve wasn’t sure he could handle it.)

— in the end, you somehow come across nancy and jonathan in your travels. nancy’s surprised, that’s all, and it feels a little anticlimactic that for all of it being for her, she doesn’t really react. she just moves on.

— and it’s not infuriating or upsetting... it just is.

>> “...am i the only one who thought that seeing nancy was going to be a bigger deal than it was?”

>> “oh, not even close.”

>> “i thought she’d at least be confused!”

>> “she seemed more preoccupied with this stupid scoops uniform!”

(and the both of you laugh it off, almost forgetting the way something would have to give, eventually.)

— and one day, a week or so later, it does.

— one day your closing up the store you work at in the mall (lol, it’s probably hot dog on a stick), and steve is hanging out with you while you wipe down the counters one last time before leaving. you’re tired, and there’s no one else about, and for some reason you look something akin to angelic, in all of the neon lights. he can’t help but stare at you, even when you look at him and huff, rolling your eyes.

it rolls off of his tongue before he can process what he’s saying

>> “do you want to go on a date with me?”

>> and you look at him, creasing your brow the way you always do. steve has the urge to kiss your forehead - to smooth out the wrinkle. “we have one on friday, don’t we?”

>> “well, yeah, but uhh...” and his throat is dry for some reason, and he can’t seem to get the words out properly. “like... a real date? i mean, they’re all technically real, but without the pretenses? just you and me. a date. without the whole...”

>> “...fake dating?” and maybe you’re slow to respond, but your breath is caught in your chest, and you can’t seem to move, much less breathe.

>> “yeah. yeah. just... a date. and we can go to the diner or something, and do all those corny first date things, and when i kiss you at the end of the night, you’ll know it not pretend or whatever fake bullshit i’ve been hiding behind for weeks now.”

>> and it will be a joke, for the rest of whatever came after, that you didn’t know what to say - that steve had been waxing poetic about you for weeks now, but he still caught you by surprise. “a date?”

>> “yeah, a real one.”

>> “with me?”

>> and he can’t help but scoff nervously. “jesus, (y/n), you aren’t making this easy for me. yes, you. i—”

(but he doesn’t get to finish, because you cut him off with a kiss. it’s short, and catches him more by surprise than anything, but when you pull away and whisper, “yes, we’ll go on a date,” he pulls you in for another.)

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @starkeysslut​ // add yourself to the taglist here!

[ahundredtimesover]

The Light of Dead Stars (05) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Chapter Warnings: Foul language, alcohol consumption; deceit; talks of past toxic relationships (infidelity, emotional abuse); Jin gets a kitchen injury, mentions of blood (18+)

Chapter Word count: 10.6k

Series Masterlist | Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Complete

Series summary:  Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.  

A/N: It’s their last few days in France, the last chapter before things get even messier. Thank you to those who’ve been tuning in! I hope the complications and emotional roller coaster will be worth it.

You wake up the morning after the wedding feeling like you’ve woken up from a really good dream. The messages of your family and best friends complimenting how good you looked and that you and Jin really looked like a couple - but not without the occasional snide remark - remind you that last night really did happen - you wore a stunning dress, ate the most delicious things you’ve ever had, danced to Park Hyo Shin’s angelic voice, and shared a kiss with your husband like you both meant it.

Everything was amazing except for that last part, really, not so much because you didn’t like it but exactly for how much you did. And now you’re trying to recall how it was before you cared this much, before you decided you liked his attention, before you realized you liked having him close, and you’ll go back to being that person. 

You’ll do what you used to do and not let them mean much. This is where you’re good at - convincing yourself that everything is okay. It’s how you cope and ironically, how you choose yourself. Otherwise, it’s just gonna be a heartbreak that you’ll have a hard time getting over, and you don’t know if there’ll be another person through and at the end of it all, reminding you that you’re still someone that another one could love.

You shake away all the thoughts. It’s a new day, and you’ll just savor the remaining week you have left in this beautiful country. 

Turning to your side, you’re surprised that Jin is still asleep. He’s breathing deeply, looking peaceful and handsome as always, and you can only imagine just how tired he is for not being up early as usual. He doesn’t flinch even when you get off the bed and not-so-quietly fix up to head to the kitchen. 

There are still some leftovers on the counter, and you initially planned on just having them for breakfast when Geonhoo and Ji-hoo arrive with their mom, whining for some pancakes. 

“I’m not good at making those. Maybe someone here knows how,” Sejeong says.

“Oh, I do!” You offer. “I love making pancakes. What do you two angels want?”

“Nutella!”

“Chocolates!”

“Strawberry!”

“Peanut butter!”

The little ones yell more things and Sejeong tries to control them and say you can only make them one type. They pout at you and you laugh at how they know exactly to get what they want.

“Okay, what about a platter? I can make different ones and you can choose what you want to eat,” you say. 

They nod happily and you get to work. One of the cooks helps out since Jin’s other family members have yet to come down for breakfast, but you say you’ll be the one to make it for the kids and for you and Jin. 

You talk with Sejeong while Geonhoo and Ji-hoo interject and ask what ingredient you’re putting or what you’re doing, and you indulge them. You come up with a platter for them with the flavors they asked for - Nutella-filled, buttermilk, chocolate chip, with sides of peanut butter and various types of fruits. 

You prepare a less sweet version for you and Jin with his caramel syrup on the side. 

“Hmm, smells like a happy morning,” you hear his gruff yet excited voice echo through the small kitchen. “Did you make pancakes?”

“The kids wanted some,” you smile. “And here’s our platter.”

His face lights up and he immediately serves himself then puts some on your plate after. You all decide to eat them outside, as Hyo-seop and Jin’s parents arrive as well. 

It’s a fairly laid-back morning, with the weather nice and cool enough to enjoy breakfast on the covered deck. Taehyung and Hyun-a arrive shortly after for a quick meal and a goodbye, as they head to the airport for their South American honeymoon for the next 2 weeks.

You and Jin choose a spot in one of the many areas in the property with a good view to work for the rest of the morning. While you were both advised to completely detach from work, neither of you could, knowing there would be more stress waiting for you back home if you don’t get some things done at least little by little. 

“You were so tired last night, huh?” You tell him in between sending one email to reading another. “It took a while for you to wake up.”

“Yeah, it was probably all the effort into making Tae stop crying,” Jin chuckles. “But yeah, at least that’s over, although the one in Seoul would be way more tiring for sure.”

“Ah, well we enjoyed last night, I’m sure we’ll enjoy that, too, just differently,” you say.

Jin merely hums, not wanting to think about the celebration in Seoul, knowing that Seri would be in attendance and he already knows you’re going to be cautious there unlike you are here. 

The morning is a breeze, with Jin reminding you of your plans this afternoon. You’re to head to Grasse for another one of your trips to town. Known as the perfume capital, it’s where his parents scheduled you for a perfume-making session that you’re really excited about, choosing not to think about how much they spent for an exclusive tour. 

Jin decides to drive this time, and you initially bicker about your terrible navigation skills but he’s an overall chill guy who rarely cracks under pressure - as far as you know, at least - and he manages somehow. 

The town isn’t far off so you’re there in no time, surprised to find someone who’ll be guiding you around. She leads you to a cozy restaurant that offers the best delicacies, and you and Jin are in heaven once again. You make your way around little streets and into a museum before heading to the first of three perfumeries.

You’re amused with the perfume-making process, the history of it, and the different scents they come up with. You expected Jin's parents to have pre-purchased you only a perfume or two, considering that they paid for your entire trip, but of course, they had to do more.

You left the first perfumery with a set of 12 different travel perfumes and the second one with a package including hand creams, colognes, and soaps. In the last one, you and Jin chose a base scent and were given complementing perfumes in matching antique bottles with your names engraved on them; you’re told that his grandparents had these made especially for you.

You look at the one given to you in its beautiful box, not wanting to even use or touch it.

“Holy crap, Jin. This is amazing,” you whisper. “I mean, it’s so thoughtful and just so beautiful. Goodness, your family treats me so well.”

“Yeah, well, they like you, that’s why,” he says, as he backs up the car to head up north and see the stunning scenery of a river and some waterfalls before the sun sets. 

“They like my parents,” you correct.

“Yeah, exactly. They like that you’re like them - hardworking, intelligent, principled, courteous, warm,” he says. “And I agree.”

“Hmm. What would they think about liar, I wonder.”

“Yah. Let’s not go there. Let’s focus on the good stuff, alright?” He nudges your arm. “I mean, all that’s better than what your family says about me - unfaithful, cheater, no backbone, weak,” Jin chuckles, recalling some of the things that your father had said when your parents found out about Seri that fateful day at your house. 

The words stung - they’re his in-laws, he reminds himself - but he wouldn’t argue against them; he knows it’s true. Not the cheater part though, at least, not how they think. He’s definitely unfaithful to your arrangement, that’s for sure, and definitely being unfair to the woman he’s left back home. It may not have been verbalized by either of you to not care about each other but it felt like a given; you’re the one who suggested getting divorced to get out of this, after all. You said it was to supposedly free him from you and he got on with the plan, mostly because he couldn’t figure out another way. And well, he’s dumb, like his brother had said multiple times. So now he’s here - confused, and more lost than ever.

“I’m still sorry about that,” you look at him apologetically. “My dad gets unhinged sometimes.”

“I’d be angry, too, don’t worry. You deserve more than what you’re getting from me,” he says; his voice is quite somber and it’s unfamiliar to you.

“I beg to differ,” you respond. “You’re treating me much better than anyone ever has, and that says a lot.”

“Right, I forgot your standards in men are so low,” he jokes.

“Correction - my standards in people. You experience the worst sometimes and so the bare minimum becomes like a gift to you,” you say, sullenly this time.

Jin doesn’t say anything; he just lets the wind from the open window serve as your background as he slows down to the viewing point. He doesn’t know how badly you had it, but for you to say what you did, he can’t imagine what you went through. 

The view of the waterfalls and canyons of Gorges du Loup is breathtaking. If you were a little more adventurous, you’d do all the fun stuff like Jin suggested, but shopping in markets and eating in as many restaurants as you can are always your priorities and his, too, so you both stick to just marveling at the views and taking photos for keeps. 

The drive back is surprisingly quiet, as you both engage in occasional small conversations that die down but neither of you seem to care. Your mind is busy being at peace, and with how the week has been, that’s quite a reprieve.

Jin pulls into the driveway and helps you with your things, instructing Emile to leave them on the table outside your bedroom. You both head to the living room where the rest of his family are, who are excited to see you back. 

“Darlings, did you enjoy our little surprise?” His grandmother asks, hugging you both.

“Little? Grandmother, that was too special to just be little. ___ here almost had a heart attack,” Jin chuckles, sitting on the couch and wrestling with Geonhoo and Ji-hoo.

Your cheeks heat up when his parents and his grandparents laugh. 

“Ah, get used to it,” Sejeong says. “My family likes to spend their money like that.”

You internally laugh at her bluntness but no one seems to be offended. You suppose that his family acknowledges their wealth and accepts what comes with it, including jokes and digs even from their own.

“Oh, darling. That’s nothing,” his grandmother resumes. “It’s the least we could do, but I hope you don’t think we’re buying you or anything. I owe my life to your father, and I’ll never forget what he’s done for my family. I’m just glad I get to welcome you into ours and make you feel like you belong, because you do.”

There’s only kindness in her eyes, and from what you know of their family, they’re kinder to strangers than they are to their own relatives, and you suppose that makes sense. Your father worked for the company for years and only resigned to protect your family; he’s said mostly good things about them.

Which again, makes it all the worse for you. You nod and profusely thank them again, saying that you want to save the perfumes for special occasions only, prompting them to say they’ll keep organizing events so you could use them.

“Anyway, what’s for dinner?” Jin asks.

“We got really good pork from the market, maybe we’ll have them baked,” his mother replies. “Is there anything else you want?”

“Hmm, I’m actually thinking of making kalguksu,” Jin says. “I’m in the mood for noodles and that’s ___’s favorite.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she chirps. “I miss you making that for us!”

“You good with that?” He asks you, and you nod excitedly. He’s only made that for you once and he was drunk.

“Is Uncle Jjan cooking?!” Ji-hoo asks. “I want to watch!”

Jin nods and takes her hand; Geonhoo follows and takes yours. Both kids are seated on the bar stools while you stand next to your husband as he makes the food. You prep the clams while he starts slicing the vegetables, making enough for the whole family because he knows that the little ones like their soup and vegetables, too.

You’re walking towards the fridge when you lose your balance and almost slip, yelping in fear and then sighing in relief after almost knocking one of the expensive-looking bowls off the counter. Just then, Geonhoo starts yelling.

“Blood, Uncle Jjan, blood!”

“What? Where?” Jin turns to you, worried if you scratched yourself or something.

“On your hand!” Ji-hoo cries. “Uncle Jjan, don’t die!”

That’s when Jin looks at his finger and realizes that it hurts. He cut himself after being preoccupied by you, thinking that you’d hurt yourself earlier and that’s why your scream distracted him.

You run to him immediately, pulling his hand under running water and calling Emile to get the first aid kit, while also telling the kids that their Uncle Jjan isn’t gonna die. 

Jin only winces as the water hits the shallow cut of his fingertip.

“Ah, it’s not that bad, it’s just a graze I think,” he says.

“It’s not deep but it’s not just a graze, Jin. What were you thinking? You slice vegetables all the time,” you reprimand him.

“I don’t know, ask the knife that cut me, ___,” he says sarcastically.

“Then what was your finger doing there!” You bite back, putting ointment and a bandaid and then putting a glove over his hand. 

“This is your fault. You had to scream and I got distracted.”

“I almost broke your expensive bowl!”

“___, no one would care,” he deadpans.

“I would!” You exclaim, face ridden with panic.

He internally gushes at how disturbed you seem. “Yah, you’re worried about me, huh?” He smirks.

“I’m worried about my kalguksu, Jin. You teased me and now I want it,” you pout, and if you weren’t so adorable, he’d be fighting you some more.

“I’ll continue this, don’t worry. You’ll get your noodles,” he smiles.

“Are you crazy? No. Sit down. I can make this, just not as good as you,” you say, pushing him to sit on the bar stool. “Just taste the broth for me.”

“Fine, go ahead,” he says, following you.

You get another piece of zucchini and start slicing. Ji-hoo asks Jin if he’s okay and he assures her that it’s just a small cut and it will go away tomorrow.

“Then ask Auntie ___ to kiss it so it goes away now!” She demands. “Daddy kisses Mommy’s lips when she says it hurts and then she becomes okay again!”

You and Jin laugh at Sejeong’s moves, knowing it’s something to tease her with. 

“Do it, Auntie! Kiss Uncle Jjan’s finger!” Geonhoo urges you this time.

You turn to Jin who’s smiling with his squishy bread cheeks on display and his gloved finger now in front of your face. 

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, kissing his finger, prompting the little ones to clap. 

“Gosh, kids these days,” you chuckle. 

“They know what’s up,” Jin follows. “But hey, it feels better now,” he winks. 

You continue on with the noodles, engaging the little rascals with you so they won’t ask you to do any more embarrassing things with your husband. Jin tastes and teases you to keep feeding him until everything is prepared.

Dinner takes place; the soup is delicious and the roasted pork is divine. You also enjoy some pies from a nearby bakery for dessert.

You’re now seated on your balcony with a cup of tea, marveling at the night sky. It’s particularly bright today, with the full moon looking beautiful as it shines over the hills. It’s one of your favorite things to do, reminding you that whoever it is you’re missing, they’re not always too far away. 

“The sky’s pretty tonight,” Jin says, sitting next to you as he looks up. 

“It’s been pretty every night,” you say. “The moon’s just brighter and there are more stars out. I like gazing at it.”

“I know. You’ve been doing it every night before you go to bed.”

You hum. Of course he’d notice.

“Namjoon, uh…”

“The guy you’re waiting for?” 

You turn to him with a nod, wondering how he guessed.

“Aside from Jimin and Jungkook, you’ve never mentioned any other guy’s names, and I know those two are your best friends,” Jin clarifies. 

“Right, uh. Namjoon’s my best friend, too. But it’s different since I actually like him.”

Like. Jin overthinks the word. It seems more, but it isn’t love, is it?

“He and I would go to the Mangwon Hangang Park when the sky was bright and just watch the stars,” you recall. “When we were in college and I was having a hard time, he would always say that looking at the sky should remind me that my struggles can never be bigger than the universe, and I was always going to surpass whatever it was I was going through.”

“A wise man,” Jin notes.

“He is,” you smile. “And I did, I surpassed them, and he helped a lot, you know? It almost felt like he was my night sky because he always made me feel better, only to realize that he could make me feel that way because his dreams were bigger than us.”

It was a winter night, and you remember it clearly, because that was also the night he said goodbye.

“Before he left, he told me to look at the sky whenever I’m missing him because we’d always be looking at the same one and that should give me comfort.”

“Does it?” Jin asks, choosing not to dwell on the thought that you miss the man every night.

“Most nights,” you nod. “I haven’t seen him for 2 years since he’s always traveling.”

“What about now?”

“Somehow. He’s in France, actually. He took the train from Italy when he found out I was here.”

Oh. 

“Does he know about us?” Jin wonders, curious as to how honest you are to the man you want about the man you’re living with.

“Yeah, about everything, actually. We write to each other. He’s quite romantic that way; he wants me to see his handwriting because somehow that has meaning in it, too,” you share. “I wrote to him when my parents told me about the arrangement, and writing it all then clarified things for me, you know? That's why I decided to do it. I wrote about you and Seri, too, and then my parents finding out, my brother being upset with me… and again, things just made more sense when I wrote them, which I never would’ve done if he and I didn't send each other letters.” 

Jin nods, appeased that you had someone like Namjoon to talk with about all that you were going through, which he only really knows a fraction of. But this man is in the same country as you, only miles away and within reach after how many years. Jin wonders if something’s changed for you since coming here, and if it’s something you’re going to tell Namjoon.

“Are you going to see him?”

“Can I?” You turn to Jin, and he sees the longing in your eyes that’s both soft and sad at the same time.

“Why are you asking permission? Of course, you can.”

“Would you come to Cannes with me? He’s there right now. Your family might suspect me if I go by myself.”

“Alright, I’ll be your alibi, then,” Jin smiles. 

It’s sincere. He sees how much the man means to you, and you’ve been apart for so long. 

“Thank you,” you say, placing your hand on top of his. “This means a lot to me.”

Jin finds a parking spot near one of the buildings. He turns to you who’s looking visibly nervous. You were quiet this morning, merely nibbling your pastries during breakfast, and you barely said anything during the entire ride to Cannes, choosing instead to look at the window. 

So many times, he wanted to hold your hand and tell you that it’s gonna be okay, but he didn’t feel like it was the right time. For some reason, he was also scared you were going to turn him away.

So he settles for a nudge on your shoulder and a soft, reassuring smile.

“You’re seeing him after a long time. That’s good, right?” 

“Yeah, it should. I just… it’s different seeing his face on a screen and actually seeing it for real, you know? And being able to touch him, hold him… I… don’t want him to be disappointed,” you mumble.

“And why would he be?”

“I’ve changed a lot since the last time he saw me. I don’t know if he’ll notice.”

Jin can try to come up with a dozen possible meanings to your words but he supposes he wouldn’t know what they mean. You’re an honest and open person, but a lot of times he finds himself not knowing you at all, and this is one of those times. What about you changed that Namjoon would be disappointed in? 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, ___,” he tries to assure. “So you go there and you meet him.”

“Uh, I need you to guide me there, Jin. I can’t even pronounce the name of the cafe.”

“Ah,” he chuckles, warming at the little smile you give him. “Okay.”

You and Jin start walking towards a plaza, with him leading the way. You’re too nervous to pay attention to him, how he’s more distant and quiet, but it’s perhaps just him giving you space. 

“It’s the one with the white awning,” he says, motioning to the little cafe. “Do you see him?”

“Not yet, but he said he reserved a table for us outside. I should just give his name.”

“Alright, you can go ahead and I’ll leave when he arrives, okay? And then I’ll stay at a cafe, too, and get some work done. Let me know when you’re finished and I can get you. Take all the time you need, ___.”

“You’ll be okay?”

He answers a beat late, but he nods. 

You smile and start walking towards the cafe and Jin watches from afar, wanting to make sure you’re safe, even if you’re a grown woman who knows what she’s doing and who she’s meeting. It’s a husband thing, though, making sure his wife is okay, he reminds himself.

He sees you talk to a server and you’re led to one of the tables. You’re constantly checking your phone, and he notices you’re still nervous. He wants to go over to you and stop you from biting your lip, but you look up before he could make up his mind. You stand up and smile at the man approaching you, one who engulfs you in a tight embrace. 

Namjoon is a tall and built man. He’s in a plain shirt and blue jeans, with sun kissed skin and nice, silver-dyed hair. He has his arms secured tightly around your waist while yours are around his neck; neither one of you seems to want to let go.

You finally do, and he kisses your forehead. Your eyes close and a smile tugs at your lips. You look comfortable, safe, happy. 

Jin doesn’t know why he’s still standing there, watching you finally take your seat and hold the man’s hand as you both start laughing and talking. There’s a tightening in his chest that he’s never felt before, a completely new experience, as every time you laughed and smiled always made him do the same. 

Not today, though. Today, he’s confused. Today, he hates himself. Today, he wishes he was the reason why your eyes crinkle and why your head lolls back; he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you like that.

Apparently, he’s been standing there for quite a while, as it registers to him that you’re waving and asking Namjoon to do the same. You mumble something and the man turns around and waves, his smile worth thousands, he can tell; it’s sweet and comforting. Jin waves and gives a thumbs up. You signal that you’re fine and that you’ll call, and that’s his signal to leave, and he does.

He finds a nice little nook cafe that allows him to read and respond to emails. He sips his hot chocolate, although he wishes it was whiskey instead. He stays there for hours, constantly checking his phone to see if you’ve called or messaged, but you haven’t. He’s never hated waiting like he does now.

Thinking that it would take you the whole afternoon to catch up with Namjoon, Jin exits the cafe after 3 hours. He ponders on going to a nearby market, but thinks you’d hate him if he went without you. He debates if he should go to the luxury stores strip, but decides against it; he’s always enjoyed how you tried to guess the price of the expensive items on display so that is another no. 

So he decides to go to a park instead; plain enough, there’s not much you’d miss.

His phone rings, and he almost drops it with how fast he takes it from his pocket, only to see it’s just his grandmother.

He waits for another hour before you call, and so he starts walking to one of the strips that you say you’re waiting at. 

“Hey,” you wave. “Sorry I took too long.”

“Oh, not at all,” he responds, walking next to you. “I expected you to be with him until the evening.”

“And what were you supposed to do until then?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Uh, work, I guess? Or go around, too, see what’s out here,” he shrugs.

“You’ll probably just eat and I’ll miss out on it.”

“That, too, but I didn’t want to discover new things and not have you there with me.”

You grin, turning on one of the streets towards a beach, thinking that the ocean would be a nice distraction this late afternoon.

“We just headed to a museum for a quick visit after the cafe. Namjoon has a meeting with an art curator so he had to leave,” you say after a while.

“So he’s an artist?”

“He’s a lot of things,” you chuckle. “He’s an art enthusiast and writes about art events and different pieces. He likes to travel and writes about it, too. He’s been doing online consulting since he took up marketing and finance in college. He can work from anywhere, really, so he’s just been going from one place to another. We were just lucky that he’s a couple of hours-train away and he could see me.”

Jin hums, following your slow pace. “Is he well?” 

“He’s happy,” you give a smile, with a tinge of sadness in it, like you’re sad for yourself. “He has his own time, he gets to see many beautiful places and things and that’s what he’s always wanted, you know? Someone as great as him deserves that kind of peace, that kind of happiness.”

“And where does that leave you?” Jin asks, hoping it doesn’t come out as too harsh, or even too intrusive.

“Where I’ve been the past years, really,” you chuckle, feeling the irony of it all - seeing the man you’ve been waiting on, thousands of miles from home, and turning him down when he asked you to run away with him. 

“Namjoon was supposed to take a job in London after college, but he stayed because of me,” you share, taking a seat on one of the benches overlooking the beach now. “He and I met in sophomore year after I broke up with my cheating ex-boyfriend, and Joon really helped me move on, you know? To the point of me liking him but he had a girlfriend that time and so I moved on again with someone else, and then Joon and his girl broke up.”

“Timing sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?” Jin says, as he thinks of his ex-girlfriend, too, and how that relationship ended. It’s a shitty thing that the universe does to people when all they want to do is love and be loved.

“The guy I was with was great at the start. He took me to different places and he was supportive,” you continue. “But then he started getting unnecessarily jealous, keeping me from seeing Namjoon and Jungkook. And then it just kept getting worse, you know? He’d be controlling, angry, lying about where he’d be, threatening when I’d question him, and then he’d be incredibly sweet after a fight, like one time he convinced my boss to allow me to take a short-notice leave and then he flew me to Bali. And I just kept making excuses for him,” you sigh, remembering the feeling of being trapped in your relationship. “I felt like it was all I could do. Because every time I had the courage to leave, he would do something that would make me change my mind.”

Jin turns to you, unsure what to say. There’s a mix of sadness and acceptance on your face at the memory, and he wants to apologize for what you had to go through, but that might feel simplistic. He wants to hold you and tell you that you didn’t deserve any of that, but it might not be the right time, so he lets you continue, knowing that it’s taking a lot for you to share this with him, given that it took a while, too. 

“The guys never left my side, especially Namjoon. He wanted to make sure there was someone there when I finally got out, and he didn’t break his promise.”

You take Jin’s hand in yours, knowing he wants to. He’s not a naturally affectionate person but you could feel him wanting to do something to comfort you, and with his fingers constantly grazing your own as they both lay on the bench, you make the move. You can’t deny that you want his comfort, too.

“But he left, didn’t he? He’s been away for years,” Jin says, feeling a bit of anger, even if that would mean you wouldn’t be his wife, and the thought suddenly makes him feel uneasy.

“It felt unfair to make him stay,” you say. “He held out on a lot of things for me, then made sure I was stable at my job, that I wasn’t hating and blaming myself anymore, that I wasn’t untrusting and scared to let people in… and well, I needed to learn to stand on my own two feet, and doing so meant letting him go, so I did.”

“And what did that mean for the both of you? Did he feel the same way?”

“He did, he said that much. Still says it, actually, that’s why he proposed running away to Italy with him,” you chuckle, recalling the shock you felt when he hugged you goodbye. “He said I’m the one who agreed to marry a guy and let him keep his girlfriend so he said it didn’t hurt to try and pitch another crazy idea.”

“Well, he does have a point,” Jin hums. “Did you, uh, did you consider it?”

“No. That wasn’t our plan, Jin,” you turn to him, wanting to assure him this time. “Maybe if I wasn’t married, I would’ve considered it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be, but that’s the point, isn’t it? If I wasn’t married, it should be a yes, but it isn’t. He’ll keep wanting this life of art and beauty and travels and I’ll keep wanting mine that’s stable and secure and in Seoul. I don’t know when we’ll ever want the same thing.”

“When the time comes that you do, does that mean that you and him could finally be together?” Jin wonders.

“Yeah,” you respond. “It’s weird though. We spent all those hours ago just talking about ourselves; all we did was catch up. He talked about the places he’s been to and I talked about all the things I’ve been doing but we didn’t really talk about us. Sure, he suggested running away together but we didn’t actually talk about it.”

“What? I thought that was the point of you two meeting up?”

“Maybe there was just so much time apart and that mattered more - feeling each other’s comfort and wondering if it’s still the same, seeing how much of ourselves has changed… seeing if the feelings are still there, but not really talking about it,” you shrug. “Namjoon and I never really prioritized us, I realized. We prioritized ourselves, our friendship, but not us. I’m not quite sure what to make of that.”

Jin squeezes your hand, letting both of you just bask in the sounds of the ocean and the light from the moon.

“Until the time that you’ll see each other again, just remember that you’re both still looking at the same sky,” he says softly. “And I’ll be holding your hand until then.”

“Jin, are you shitting me?” you turn to him with wide eyes. “I may not be able to properly pronounce this store’s name but I can at least tell those diamonds are real, and they’re expensive,” you exclaim, emphasizing the last word. 

“I told my Grandmother the same thing!”

“Okay, now you’re making me sound ungrateful,” you frown.

“Well, I said it kindly,” he clarifies. “But she won’t budge. She thinks it’s necessary for us to have matching diamond bracelets. When she learned that we were heading to Cannes today, she called this store and asked for a few designs to show us.”

You look at him worriedly before looking at the 3 options in front of you. Looking at the other pieces of jewelry in this chic store that Jin took you to after your time at the beach, you feel both in awe and like you’re going to faint. This is too much, you think, as the gifts from his family keep on coming. Of course, they gave you cash after the wedding, but it seems that all the more meaningful gifts were to come after you two had made it “official.”

“It doesn’t feel right accepting this,” you say, pouting and crossing your arms.

The sales staff seems to have picked up your reaction and she says something, which Jin translates for you.

“Apparently they’ve been paid for.”

“Oh goodness, Jin!” You whine embarrassingly. “We can’t… I can’t…”

“I know, but it’s gonna look worse if we don’t accept it. Just wear it when we’re seeing them. It’s fine, really. And you know I hate saying this but this really isn’t much for them,” he sighs, only preferring to talk of his family’s wealth when it’s to ironically make you feel better that whatever they spend for you is just like extra change for them.

“So can you please just choose? I like all 3 designs, but I think you prefer the simplest one,” he says, picking the least shiny one of them and closing the clasp around your wrist. “This one’s classic and elegant; you can match it with anything.”

“Okay, fine,” you give in, though the pout doesn’t leave your face. 

This is the part you’ll never get used to and you mentally smack yourself for every time they give you something. In another version of this reality where you and Jin actually love each other, you feel like you’ll be more accepting, but being paraded with wealth on a daily basis is something that will always throw you off guard and make you feel undeserving.

You take the one for him and put it around his wrist, too, and you admit, it looks gorgeous on him. Jin has pretty hands and stunning fingers, something you’d noticed that first day in France as he held your hand in the car. 

The sales staff asks for a photo that she’s been instructed to send to the elder Mrs. Kim; she’s apparently a regular here. 

“Your Grandmother’s really not letting us off the hook, huh?” You laugh this time.

“She probably thought we’d find a way to skirt around their plan,” he laughs back. “But thank you for accepting. They badger me a lot for not buying you things because, well, you know my family - they like to show off but it comes from a good place, I promise.”

“I know. I’m sorry for being a difficult wife,” you shyly smile.

“It’s fine, you have your redeeming moments,” he says, yelping when you pinch his waist. 

“Hey, proper decorum!” He whisper-yells, but the sales staff don’t seem to mind, as you’re the only ones here and they’ve been giggling ever since you and Jin started to bicker earlier. 

“But anyway, thank you. I’m thinking of making them something before we leave tomorrow. Maybe sweetened rice cake?” You say.

“That takes a while to make,” Jin frowns.

“Preparing the glutinous rice is what takes a while. I can just wake up earlier and prepare it then sleep again or something. It’s the least I could do, Jin. Really, it’s nothing. Plus, I like making that for my family!”

“Yeah? You haven’t made it for me yet.”

“Well, then now I will. Come, I passed by some stalls earlier where I can buy dried fruits and nuts,” you say, pulling his arm towards a certain street.

And that’s how you and Jin spend the rest of your time in Cannes - shopping for ingredients, buying him jelly beans to shut him up because he was being really annoying, and laughing all the way to a small restaurant and then heading home. 

You lay in bed that night, facing him once again, a smile immediately gracing your lips as he pinches your nose.

“Thanks for driving and being with me today, Jin,” you say. “And for not making it weird.”

“For not making it weird?” He chuckles. “May I remind you that you once made pancakes for me and Seri after you caught her at our house? Like it was totally normal?”

“It’s not like you were hiding or anything, so it’s not that bad,” you laugh. “Plus, it was always fine with me.”

“Yeah, but I still got so traumatized. And so driving you to Cannes wasn’t a big deal. I’m not sure if it was the meeting you imagined but I’m glad you got to see him. You seemed really happy, too, like you felt like home with him there.”

“I did, huh?” You ask softly, wondering how you look when you’re with Namjoon, but Jungkook always said you had a calmness on your face whenever you were with him.

“You did. Sorry if I stayed around a bit; I just wanted to make sure you were safe and stuff. And about your exes, I’m sorry about it, too,” he mumbles. “I didn’t know if it was right to say it earlier but I… You didn’t deserve that, and I’m just glad you had someone to help you pick up your pieces.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him. “And that’s why I was okay with you and me. It’s not so much that I have low standards in men, like you pointed out, but it’s more like - I know bad when I see it; I’ve experienced some of the worst. And you’re nothing like them, Jin. We may not be a normal married couple but I can sleep well at night knowing I’ll be safe, because that’s what I feel with you. So thank you.”

Jin can only smile. He realizes as each day passes that he values your words more than he expected, and knowing you feel safe with him is all he needs to hear. He pulls the covers over you and pinches your nose again before wishing you goodnight. 

You didn’t think that Jin’s grandparents enjoying the sweetened rice cake you made for them would mean this much to you, especially when they say that it tastes like the ones they used to make when they still had the patience for it. 

“Oh, darling. This just means you and Jin would have to visit us here again,” his grandmother says. “Or we’ll visit you. Whichever, as long as I get to taste more of this.”

“You’re welcome. You’ve just been so wonderful to me and I can’t thank you enough,” you respond, hugging them and his parents as you and your husband prepare to leave. 

“Not a problem at all, dear,” his mother now says. “We're just happy that our son is happy. I’ve never seen him laugh and smile this much in years, and I’m not exaggerating.”

She doesn’t seem like the type who would; she’s always been straightforward and intentional, but you still take it with a grain of salt. Jin has had Seri for years, and he had to do his part of acting during this trip, too, even if you know there was sincerity in how he was with you. 

You thank them again and wave them goodbye. You hug Sejeong and Hyo-seop and carry Geonhoo and Ji-hoo who are sad that they won’t be seeing you for a while. 

“Just another week, we’ll see you back home,” Jin assures his niece and nephew. “Be good, okay? Don’t give your parents a headache.”

They give both of you sweet kisses and you walk towards the car where Emile has packed all your luggages already. You and Jin settle in and take the hour and a half car ride to Saint-Tropez, with both of you listing the cafes and restaurants you’ll be eating at. 

You finally arrive at the palatial hotel perched on a hillside that’s overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It’s got modern and classic touches that add to the serene ambiance of the place, especially as it’s nestled between gardens and large trees. 

You’re assisted by the manager who informs you of the activities that have been paid for - you just have to set a schedule for them. There’s the boat trip that’ll take you around the coastline, the full-afternoon spa treatment, and a special dinner at the private beach club. 

“Oh, Jin,” is all you manage to say, somehow not surprised anymore. 

“Well, the other option was Paris and that would’ve been much more romantic,” he shrugs. “This isn’t so bad. I mean, it’s an old fishing village with little cafes and stores.”

“That does sound fun, and more like us,” you smile. “Guess that’s what we’ll be doing on our first day?”

He nods and gives your preferred schedule to the manager before you’re accompanied to your suite. 

It’s bright and spacious with a living room and a kitchenette. The glass door leads to a garden outside with spectacular views of the French Riviera. It’s private and perhaps a fitting end to this whirlwind of a trip with your husband, knowing that after all this, you’ll go back to Seoul, back to your jobs and your own rooms, back to your own businesses, and back to the lie you won’t have to make in the comfort of your home.

You take it all in. Everything that’s happened in the past week isn’t what you expected - from getting as close as you are with Jin, kissing him, being okay with it… and seeing Namjoon, the man who let your heart beat again, the man who reminded you what it was like to care, to love, to wait, to hope, and to hurt. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jin says as he marvels at the view from next to you. “It’s not crowded, and the town’s not far from here.”

“It’s beautiful,” you smile, letting the memory of yesterday stay at a nook of your mind for now. “Should we get going? I’m excited to eat.”

“You mean, you’re excited to dissect the food and then eat?” He arches a brow.

“Says the man who does exactly that,” you stick your tongue out. “But really, how else can you enjoy food but by appreciating its parts and as a whole? Makes it more delicious that way.”

“Geek,” he laughs, as you both head out the elevator and into the shuttle that would take you to the Old Town.

The weather is nice, with the sun’s heat and the breeze just right for the early afternoon. The streets are buzzing but not overwhelming, and you and Jin find yourselves in cobblestone streets and alleys lined with quaint cafes and local shops. 

He looks quite the looker on a holiday, with his mustard-colored leather coords, the buttons of his polo open and a white sleeveless top underneath. You’ve noted a few tourists do double-takes when he walks and you still haven’t fully wrapped your head around how handsome he is. 

You both go around and find a traditional restaurant for your late lunch and people watch, then you go around trying different pastries in the bakeries that you pass by. You end up at the Port and become amused by the fishing boats and yachts. 

You’re tired by the late afternoon so you head back to your hotel to watch the sky turn purple then blue in your garden balcony with some mimosas just because. You semi-dress up for dinner at the hotel’s private beach club, a 10-course meal, and then enjoy drinks while watching a performance after.

Finally settled in the massive bed in your pajamas, you feel like floating. The mattress and linens are the most comfortable you’ve ever had and you don’t want to ever get off.

“Ugh, this is like heaven,” you moan.

Jin laughs as he lies next to you, sighing in satisfaction as well. “Ah, this is good. I should ask for the brand of the mattress and the pillows and buy them.”

You stare at him for a while until you realize he’s not joking, and he winks at you while typing on his phone, perhaps asking Yoongi to do it. 

Jin scoots closer to you and you don’t pull away. You don’t seem to mind that there’s a big ass couch outside but he’s staying next to you, coming nearer. 

“Is this okay?” He dares ask, and you smile softly as you nod.

You’re talking about your favorite cafes from earlier when Jin groans and shows you his text exchange with his mother. She asked for photos so he sent those of the scenery and the food but she wanted photos of both of you. 

Who goes on a honeymoon and doesn’t have pictures with their wife! The text reads. Take photos of you and ___, we need to preserve these memories. 

“She nags even about this,” he whines. 

“It’s fine,” you chuckle. “We can take lots tomorrow. We’ll visit surrounding villages, anyway, and we’ll do the boat ride.”

So that’s what you both do the next day, as you stop by scenic views on the way to the nearby Port Grimaud and Ramatuelle. Your assigned chauffeur is kind enough to take the pictures, enjoying it himself as you and Jin keep arguing about the “proper” photo and debating which poses look couple-y enough. 

It’s against one of the chateaus where the chauffeur decides to direct both of you, instructing Jin to pull you closer by the waist and telling you to put your hand on his chest. It’s very wedding-like, as Jin whispers in your ear, and you take the chance to tickle him on his neck while he’s distracted. His laugh is contagious, causing you to join him, and he pinches your nose like he likes to do. 

You’re back at your hotel in time for lunch, then you lounge at the beach before your mid-afternoon private boat trip. It’s a laid-back activity, as you and Jin unwind at the deck with some cold cuts and wine and cheese. 

He starts showing you photos of Taehyung and Hyun-a who are clearly enjoying their own honeymoon, and who are clearly very couple-y in their poses. 

“We should try this,” Jin says, showing one where they're in the middle of a street party. 

“Do I look like someone who pops her foot?” You nudge him. “Or someone who laughs prettily like that?”

“Yeah, you don’t do either,” he says, prompting you to pinch his arm. “Okay, this seems doable. And maybe this?”

You go through a few more and decide that amongst the kisses and the gazing and all the hugging ones, these ones he points out aren’t that hard. 

So you try one where you’re next to him, your head leaning on his shoulder with his hand on your side, grazing your thigh that’s just causing you to inch closer to him. Even with your cover up, you could feel his taut, bare chest against your arm, and other than the times when you had to dance or kiss, this feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him. 

“We’ve got enough for today, I think,” you say, smiling at him after one of the boat crew takes your photo. 

He agrees, and so you go for a quick swim in the ocean before you head back to the boat to watch the sunset, docking at the area that you wanted to explore for dinner. It’s another one of those nights where you just freely walk around, getting lost along the way, with you and Jin blaming each other for both of your terrible navigation skills, but ending up bonding over the night market and feeding each other chickpea flour pancakes and sponge cakes.

Later that night while Jin is asleep, you look through the pictures on your phone, and you hadn’t realized that the chauffeur took more candid photos than the ones where you posed. It’s almost funny, as the nicest takes aren’t those where you look like a couple, but they’re the ones where you both look the most natural, the most free, the most comfortable. You can even remember what stupid joke or silly remark he made; you can even tell if you tickled or pinched him because he has a different face for each time you annoy him. 

You may not laugh prettily like Hyun-a does, but one thing is for sure - this laugh you have is one of the most genuine ones you’ve ever had.

“So, did the French air give you a change of heart or something?” Jungkook, your childhood best friend, says over the phone while seemingly playing a game on his computer. “Your photos are so cute, dude. I’m finding it hard to believe that you and Mr. Rich Guy aren’t a couple. You sure nothing happened out there?”

He yelps and curses and you imagine his character dying and you roll your eyes. Of course, the one time you get to finally talk to him because this best friend of yours has a tendency to disappear when he feels like it, he’s still busy being a dramatic gamer. 

“Nothing, I told you,” you groan, comfortably lying down on the couch because your husband is at the hotel cafe, working, claiming that he doesn’t want to do it at your suite so you won’t feel tempted to work, too. “We just pretend to be in love and shit. And again, Kook, his name is Jin, okay? You and Dara should stop calling him other things that aren't his name. We’ve been married for 6 months and you still keep doing that.”

“Gee, wifey’s being protective of her hubby, I see,” he teases. “Fine, I’m finding it hard to believe that you and Mr. Rich Guy Jin with Abs aren’t a couple. The photos you sent look like you’re about to burst from happiness.”

“I’m pretty sure it was because a bug flew by his face and he almost fell off the chair from fear,” you chuckle, suddenly remembering yesterday’s stop at a cafe by the street. “His finesse and seriousness really melt away when there’s an insect or when I tickle him. It’s funny.”

“Ugh, you sound so cheesy.”

“Yah! You’re the one who wrote a whole ass song for a girl and serenaded her outside her house, you dork.”

“That was college. I was a different person back then, ___,” he whines. 

“Yeah, so was I,” you sigh. “I mean, who would’ve thought I’d be in France with a rich man as my husband, right? I couldn’t even find a decent man and now I’m married to a really great one. Damn it, I wish those assholes didn’t ruin me the way they did,” you say, suddenly turning somber. “Maybe I’d actually even consider Jin if he didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“They didn’t ruin you, okay? They just broke you a bit,” your best friend says. “And you were a different person back then because now, you’re this confident, happy woman who knows when something’s not good for her anymore and can stand her ground and fight for herself because that’s who you really are, okay? I was hoping that seeing Namjoon would remind you of that.” He curses again before he continues. “Also, is that a confession I hear? Would you really go for Jin if the situation was different?”

“Maybe, who knows? But the situation is this - Jin has a girlfriend, someone who makes him happy, and I’m waiting for a man to finally like me enough to come home to me.”

“What if Namjoon doesn’t?”

“Okay, harsh,” you groan.

“I mean, of course he likes you. He did, all those years ago, and he stood by you because you needed him. But he’s not the same person anymore as well, ___. And while you two still do your letter-writing as if you’re long-distance lovers but also talk over the phone every once in a while, he’s been gone for years,” Jungkook says. “I love the guy but every single day, he chooses to not be with you. And asking you to run away to Italy isn’t the grand declaration of love that you think it is. That was silly.”

“Hey, I never thought it was,” you sigh. “Even he knew it was crazy, so I don’t even know what he would’ve done if I agreed.”

“And what would’ve made you agree?”

At this, you don’t have a response because quite frankly, you don’t know. You don’t know what situation or circumstance you need that would make you just drop everything to be with the man you’ve ironically been waiting for.

“What? Nothing? See, I told you.”

“You didn’t tell me shit, Kook,” you laugh. 

“I hate you.”

“You’re just putting things in my head.”

“No, I’m helping you make sense of things in your head. That’s my role in your life,” he says proudly. “But I’m serious. Think about why you’re still holding onto Namjoon. There could be a lot of reasons, but whatever it is, just remember - he’s not the only person who can love you.”

You remain silent on your end, and sometimes, you just hate it when Jungkook makes sense.

“I can’t really think of anyone else who can.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to change that mindset, ___. You could be holding onto something that’s long gone, and you’re only choosing to see what’s left of it, and that’s bound to fall away, too.”

You choose not to think much of what Jungkook said earlier while you were lazing in the suite while waiting for Jin to finish his work. You came to France to pretend and to enjoy along the way, not to think, and you’d promptly sent your best friend messages of how much you hate him for making you think but he replied that he can’t wait to see you when you get back. 

“What’s with the furrowed brows?” Jin splashes you some water, and you have to hold back your yell and send him a death glare instead. 

“___, we’re in the pool, you’re literally wet,” he deadpans.

“Not my hair though! I didn’t plan on wetting it,” you pout.

“Too bad, now you have to,” he shrugs, and you jump on his back in retaliation, although you don’t know what that was supposed to do since you’re now clinging onto his freeway shoulders with your chest squished against his bare back. He reflexively grips your thighs so you both won’t lose your balance and he’s laughing the whole time while you’re suddenly hyper-aware.

“You’re gonna have to shower anyway since we have that spa treatment this afternoon,” he reminds you. “I heard it’s really good.”

“Oh god, I haven’t had a massage in a year,” you say dreamily. “The most I get is from Jungkook but he’s lazy sometimes.”

Jin chuckles, amused by your relationship with your best friends who are all very different from you. 

“But I’m going to enjoy today,” you smile. “It’s our last full day. It'll be back to reality for us pretty soon.”

You’re unsure what you meant and why you even said it, but you don’t miss the way Jin’s face falls a little at the reminder and this time, you try to not think too much of it.

After lunch at a seaside restaurant, you and Jin get ready for your spa day. It’s a long one, with scrubs and a hot tub, facial treatment and a full-body massage, and manicure and pedicure as well. You focus on how relaxed you feel; you’ve never been this pampered in your life, and even all the times you did a bit of it before never amounted to this, price- and service-wise. This is luxury on your mind and body, and you're loving every second of it.

Of course, you feign nonchalance at the half-naked man doing all those things with you, too. You wish the therapists wouldn't find it odd that a married couple doesn’t shower together or that Jin is in swim shorts and you’re in a two-piece bathing suit. Or that they came in with some treats and you and he are on opposite ends of the hot tub. Or that you bicker more than you say sweet things to each other, but just like how it’s been the past 2 weeks, you’re comfortable and you feel light, and it’s not just because the massage got rid of the knots on your shoulders.

You can’t help but moan all the way back to your room, and you’re too refreshed to move that when Jin takes your legs off the couch, you reflexively lay them on his lap as you remain laying down and enjoy the change of colors of the sky outside. 

“You look comfy,” he chuckles, admiring how at ease you feel. 

He’s glad that he was able to upgrade the treatment to the full-experience since he knows you need it. You’ve worked hard all these years and you deserve this day of pampering. He liked seeing you just let go and be treated like a queen even for just the afternoon, and he admits that the way your eyes lit up every time there was something presented to you - even if it was just the type of scrub or the oil to be used - made him feel light and at ease. Somehow, seeing you pampered was his own way of relaxing, as if seeing you feel that way rid him of the knots on his body, knowing how much stress and pressure he put you through the past weeks. 

“It’s our last night here. What if we order room service for each other and be surprised?” He suggests.

“Hey, that would be fun!” You sit up. “But it should be a 3-course meal. If you give me just an appetizer, I will riot.”

He laughs again; he seems to do that a lot with you.

“Trust me, I don’t want that, either. But sure, a 3-course meal, then.”

Jin ends up cheating. He still orders for you - appetizer, entree of lobster, which is your favorite, and dessert as discussed. Luckily, you both order different things for each other so you get to try his food and he gets to try yours. But he also orders additional things - the dishes he feels that you’d like to try, and the way you squealed when you saw the stuffed capon fish and the lemon dessert made him sigh in satisfaction. 

There’s that feeling again, of making you smile, of making you happy. Of making you feel cared for. 

And later that night as you both lay in bed, after the drinks and endless conversations about food at your garden balcony, he lets himself feel the serenity of your presence next to him.

It’s the same thing he does when you both do your last tour of the city the next morning, discovering new cafes and going back to the ones you liked, taking photos along the way and saying goodbye to the town that you fell in love with even for just a few days. 

“You all good?” He asks, as you settle on the window seat of the car that will take you to the airport.

“Yes. Two weeks just flew by,” you say, “and I really had fun. Thank you, Jin.”

He grins proudly, sliding down his seat a bit so you can lean on his shoulder, seeing as you still look sleepy. 

You’re both quiet on the way there, and even as you both wait to board the plane. He sees you glance at him from your First Class seat some feet away, and he constantly asks if everything is okay like it’s reflex. 

It’s a long flight and you arrive in Seoul in the late afternoon, with Yoongi and Mr. Lim greeting you both. You and Jin narrate the highlights of the trip to his secretary, to his amusement, but of course you don’t mention the more intimate moments, and you’re glad that Yoongi doesn’t prod. 

Home smells amazing with Mrs. Kang’s cooking, with all of Jin’s favorite Korean food laid out on the table, his mouth watering at the sight. 

He’ll unpack tomorrow or this weekend; there’s still work tomorrow, after all, and he’s tired from the flight and he can’t wait to lie down. So do you, it seems, as you yawn after your last spoonful of the tofu stew and say that you’ll head to bed.

Jin nods and follows you up the stairs, being reminded of that reality you’re both back in when you wish him goodnight and open the door of your room and close it behind you. He stands outside, knowing there’s no place for him there, and that he shouldn’t want it, he shouldn’t wish for it.

But as he walks to his room on the other side of the hall and as he lays in bed, his tired body begging him to sleep, he’s unable to. And as he stays on one end and leaves a space for you, he knows. 

Something’s changed, and he doesn’t think he can continue in this reality after the past 2 weeks. Something’s changed, and he doesn’t know what to do. 

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