#the other is his wife who does not like me

[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [1]

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Word count: current 12.5k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up), childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, smut tags to be provided in part 2

author note: Thank you to @tusswrites @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin the title is so fucking long because this is the longest fucking thing i've written in my entire life. A little inspired by those ridiculously long ass anime titles that don’t need to be that length like they don’t need to be this fucking long, but they just are and it’s dumb, but I cackle every time I look at it. I'm dedicating this to @haologram who does this on the regular somehow and has been supporting me throughout the whole process bc this drove me nuts.

“Looking for fake girlfriend for hire aged 25-35, preferably with job, neat, and single. Negotiable compensation. About myself. I am a 30yo, 5’10 male with six figure job trying to relate to my colleagues by appearing as though I have a Significant Other. Your required duties will only be your punctual company to public events. Serious inquires only. Thank you.”

You stared long and hard at the Craigslist listing before quickly shooting a message, not giving yourself a moment to hesitate and regret your choices and quickly clicked off the window to avert your attention elsewhere. 

Craigslist was not a website you browsed every day, but today was not like every day. Today commemorated your last and final friend who celebrated her relationship hitting their two year milestone, reminding you that you’re the final single on the lonely island that was your life.

For as long as you could remember, everyone—including you—had been in some kind of relationship. And for some convoluted reason, having a girlfriend/wife/mother status mattered in the circles you ran, especially now when your dating history has been stretched and chewed like bubble gum. At this point, you weren’t closed off to anything, not even fake relationships.

You were sick and tired of putting in the effort of meeting these guys with nothing to come out of it; it was dud after dud, shitty date after shitty date. At the end of the day, you knew you were just meeting other people to satisfy the expectations of others, succumbing to the pressure of being coupled up with anyone to have your happy ending.

This was your chance to say fuck it. If they were all so insistent on seeing you date someone, you were going to give them just that. It didn’t matter who it was.

The Craigslist guy seemed to be in the same boat. Albeit, his situation sounded more unique compared to yours, he was also just trying to survive in this inherently judgemental world. You could imagine a compromise that would benefit you both correspondingly. It was just a matter of convincing your new potential faux beau that you were in desperate need of his assistance.

Then again, how bad was his situation that he needed a fake girlfriend to make himself remotely likable?

You didn’t know it yet, but in Choi Seungcheol’s case, it was dire. 

The effect he had by walking through the sixty-story VENTE Co. building already brought locals to shivers, but the air of the department he led was frigid whenever he passed through. Each heavy footstep of his grew louder as he made his way to his private office, and always with that empty soulless stare that never ceases to miss a day at work. No subordinate would dare even think of locking eyes, nor breathe the oxygen lingering on him, until the door closed behind him with no air to escape.

Before Seungcheol came to power as office manager, the rumors circulating about how he got into his position of power before transferring over to his current branch were the kind you’d hear about in fiction. Word got around about the possible blood he spilled, the secrets he told, or even the secret withheld for exploitation to get where he is now. This wasn’t any lowly position, after all, he was ten to twenty years younger than his colleagues holding the same position, earlier on track than anyone else in the company for someone who wasn’t an heir or a product of nepotism. Everyone assumed the gossip must’ve had some truth to them. 

Even Chan, the poor new intern fresh out of college, had fallen victim to the water cooler talk and seamlessly fell into the office dynamics. He cowered in his cubicle after seeing Manager Choi pass through the hall, clutching the toner cartridge he was asked to change out that now stained his fingers. And a breath of relief escaped him to hear the sound of a closing door.

Seungcheol didn’t do anything aggressive or violent with the way he ran the office, but he was a man of a few words. He neither confirmed nor denied these rumors, he just never addressed them, thinking maybe that’s how it should stay. Instead, he let the stone-cold glare that made the hairs on people’s necks stand upright speak for him. He didn’t go to company events, or plan them for that matter, he would just work his hours (often more hours than less), send out his orders, and leave work without saying so much as a goodbye. 

And why would he have to? He was the boss. He didn’t need to do more than what was necessary.

Yet, there was something he craved that couldn’t be achieved in the current workplace climate. Something he didn’t realize until it was already too late to turn things around unless the world was flipped on its head. 

From a young age, he was taught being feared was a good thing. It’s why his parents would put him in hard-hitting hobbies like taekwondo, hapkido, and boxing. He was groomed to be a leader who was strong, demanded his power, and strived to be the apex.

Yet, he was never taught that being lonely was something that came along with it. That climbing ranks, that gaining power and authority could make him feel so empty inside. Just like climbing the top of Mount Everest alone, it was just as cold and lonesome if no one was there to see it.

One weekend, curiosity got the best of him, and he wondered on the search engines if this feeling was normal, if others had this problem, or if it was a side effect of his ambition. Research and being a net explorer was a hobby that he fell victim to on occasion, this being an extreme case where he could not seem to grasp. One trending word led to another and then the web sucked him into a spiral of Google snippets from Reddit stories to self-help guides. 

What had felt like minutes had actually been hours since he started his search and he was beginning to get impatient until articles about How to be Likeable popped on his screen. Like many of the others, it sounded like nonsense or gimmicky, but one title stood out to him amongst others.

He scoffed as he moved his mouse to scroll through the pages, thinking it couldn’t have been that easy or perfect, but it just was. Unlike everyone else’s advice that told him to ‘smile more’ or ‘show positive body language’ (whatever the hell that meant), if he had a significant other defending him and complimenting him all the time, he wouldn’t have to do the work. They would do all the talking for him. He just had to compensate them enough to make it happen. It was idiot proof.

And that’s how he found himself on Craigslist, the site that seemed to have it all with no exceptions. His post was decent, vague enough to not make his status or identity known, yet enticing enough to possibly arouse a candidate. He just had to be sure they were someone he could work with.

After scouring through about twenty to thirty scammy and near-illegal offers, one piqued his interest, the single sensible response amongst a hoard of crazies. Maybe he found his girl. His fake girl that is.

“Hello, Are you still looking for a girlfriend? I seem to suit all your criteria.”

Things were looking up for Seungcheol, all that was next was the meeting. Being the workaholic he was, Seungcheol only managed to squeeze you in for a 45-minute interview during lunch, but it had to be by the office, giving you both the smallest time window imaginable. His lunch was the only time he would be able to do transactions such as this, and any weekend of his was solely for his leisure. Talking business–such as a fake dating proposition–on his well deserved weekend was not something he wanted to pencil in his calendar.

The coffee shop was perfect, only a ten-minute walk from the VENTE Co. building if Seungcheol speed-walked, and if he was early enough, he could get a freshly made deli sliced sandwich they were known for to have on his way back. However, he didn’t want to prolong this interaction more than he needed to. He knew that others from the office would occasionally visit or pass by this same cafe, but it was the most viable option. He just needed everything to go according to plan and at his pace. So far, it seemed as if it was; all that was left was your punctual arrival–but that moment had passed ten minutes ago.

He looked at his watch impatiently, tapping his foot in the incessant way he would, sighing as everyone that came through the passing door didn't even spare him a glance, maybe even some actively avoiding his eyes. He started to wonder if his description of himself was specific enough: male in his 30s with dark hair in a tailored gray suit. It wasn’t rocket science. Yet, not one who arrived looked like his potential match.

Seungcheol was beginning to think he wasted his time, his energy, and his effort. Is that what it felt like? To put heart into something and be burned after. He hadn’t felt anything like this since—

He groaned, scanning the perimeter self consciously and never feeling more humiliated in his life. As if he was actually stood up from a date. Running his tongue against his molars, Seungcheol scoffed, plucking himself off his seat as he bowed his head to avoid eyes. He was filled with silent rage, seething with resentment for someone who did not even bother to show up and reject him in person. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t date. 

As if on cue, the automatic glass doors opened, and a hoard of familiar voices were boisterously laughing as they entered the cafe, joking and jabbing at each other, as if ready to cue the sitcom music any time now. However, as Seungcheol barely lifted his gaze, they stopped in their tracks, flight or fight responses taking over and the instinct to survive this encounter held precedence above anything else. They straighten their postures like soldiers in a line up, changing their light atmosphere in the flip of a switch. 

“Mr. Choi! Good to see you,” Seokmin greeted, his smile quivering. 

“D-do you like their coffee too! How good to know,” Soonyoung followed, eyes shifting. 

“Did you just have lunch, sir?” Chan managed to say while staring at his own feet, hiding behind Hansol, who respectfully nodded and kept eye contact to a minimum.

The office manager nodded, scheming an escape route to retain some ounce of the dignity he had left, if any. The exit was a mere couple of feet away. He could just walk out, and his subordinates wouldn’t have a say against it. The plan was ready to be set in motion until he felt something–rather someone, coiling their arm around his bicep. Their warmth jolted him erect, making him stand pin-straight, much like his employees when they came across him. 

His head snapped at the unheralded intruder, locking eyes with a pair unexpectedly warm and wide, staring back at him with an unspoken fondness, and glint of humor. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d seen them before, along with that smile that broke out so wide the cheekbones reached their eyes, but somehow still effortless.

“Forgot something?” You asked, beaming at him with anticipation, clinging to him for companionship.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you, his intrigue now replaced with puzzlement and his head was filled with noise, none of which making any sense, starting with the person in front of him. “You–”

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

“You and Mr.Choi?”

“This is news to us!”

“You both look so good together!”

You quietly laughed as they all prodded you with questions, while your supposed boyfriend did what only what his motor skills would allow him; that was to observe, watching how your expression turned just naturally light and jovial as you blatantly lie in front of the strangers before you. It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Well, I’ve got to walk him back to the office,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “otherwise he will not go back, and he’ll lose track of time. It was nice meeting everyone. Maybe I can do it officially in better circumstances!”

“Of course! We’ll see you in the office, Mr. Choi!”

“Yeah, see you! Pleasure meeting you Miss!”

You made your way out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk and gunned for it as soon as you were out of their sight, all while he was still holding your hand, having not spoken a single word the entire altercation and not knowing a single word to speak thereafter. You sighed when you found an alleyway away from prying eyes, hands on your knees as you panted, reminding yourself you really needed to take advantage of that at home gym equipment you bought for yourself. “Finally. Wow, they’re really nosy, aren’t they?”

“Who the hell are you?” he finally asked.

You lifted your eyes to meet his eyes, seeing the pits of black that glared down at you. If you were phased by it, you didn’t let it show, only dusting yourself off as you stuck out your hand. The unwavering grin on your face. “Didn’t you hear? I’m your girlfriend.”

“You’re late,” he pointed out plainly.

“Yeah, you try to catch three buses and a subway to get here.”

“You could've gotten a cab.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And waste my money? No, thank you.”

“You’re getting compensated anyway. Why would that matter?”

You gave him a teeth baring grin, ulterior motives written all over your face. “Well, actually, I had a deal in mind.”

Seungcheol scoffed, scanning his eyes over you as judgment fogged his vision. He trusted you as far as he could throw you–which frankly, could be really far, but there was something frightening about you. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’m not a gigolo and never plan on being one. You had one job and it was to be punctual and you’d get paid. How is that so hard?”

“But I did a good job, didn’t I? Pretending to be your girlfriend?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but you made a good point, and knowing you’ve already made an impression back at the cafe, the younger guys in the office had probably spread the news throughout the floor by now, if not then throughout the whole building. Just like those vicious rumors had spread. Except maybe for once the word ‘conniving’ or ‘intimidating’ wasn’t being used in the context.

He sighed, growing weary, checking his watch for the time, since he was in desperate need for this encounter to be wrapped up as soon as possible. “What is it you want?”

You grinned. “Well, to be honest. I need a fake boyfriend–”

“No.”

“But–”

“That’s not how things are going to work. I pay you to work for me. You do a job. And that’s that. There’s no deals to be made here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, sorry, but this is actually crazy to me.”

“How the real world works? I do apologize that no one’s ever taught you that.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, it’s just…Choi Seungcheol. You’ve really grown up, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He asked, hearing his full name as if he was being told a slur. “However, you found my name, my status, you have a lot of nerve–”

“Eight years old. You had just won champions for competitors under ten and you felt like you were on top of the world. You wanted to scream but not because you had won, but because no one was there to watch you win, not anyone you cared about anyway. Except for one person, the person competing against you. So you screamed together at a nearby cliff in the mountains. You were still sad, bawling your eyes out, but at least you weren't alone.”

He couldn’t breathe. In his chest, something grabbed at his lungs, and it squeezed, cutting off his airways. His gut tightened and jaw clenched. He had never planned on being reminded of that time of his life again. “How…”

“Hi, Cheol. It’s good to see you too, bud.”

Seungcheol had a particular youth, and as a kid, he was forced to do more than enough to prove himself. Achievements were not only required but expected of him. If he won something, it was the standard. He had to learn quickly that everything was meant to be earned, not given, both fear and attention.

You were weird. You had a lot going on, and he didn’t like that. Yet, you took the same classes he did, performed as high as he did, were recommended to the same competitions, and commended for simply existing. It was blasphemy. His young little heart couldn’t fathom such anarchy.

He couldn’t understand it before, but he was jealous. Jealous of you, your family, your dynamics, and everything you represented. You were ignorantly happy, and he hated that you still were just as good of a student as him, even if it was just at taekwondo.

Things started to make sense when he decided to place focus on himself, the gold, the medals, and everything he’s worked hard to achieve. Why did it matter that you were barely great at taekwondo, he excelled. Not only that, he was getting straight As, a model student, and someone respected and feared amongst his peers.

Well, those kinds of kids don't cry when their parents don’t come to their taekwondo championships, do they? No matter how many times he’s reminded them of the day to ensure they make it. He felt so pathetic. So utterly alone. He was a fucking winner, yet he was whining and crying about mommy and daddy like a loser.

“Hi, are you okay?” the snot-covered young Seungcheol turned his head, seeing you, a silver medal winner asking if he was okay. Pathetic. 

He was going to brush you off. Quite literally shove you away for wasting his time and invading his personal space, but you sounded so concerned, voice light and warm like sun rays, and before he knew it, your arms came around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His tears soaked someone else's uniform that day and that frustrated him like hell. 

It had to be you of all people to see him cry. His rival. The bane of his existence. Well, the bane of his existence had nice hugs and smelled like strawberry smackers and sweat. He didn’t know how he knew what those were but remembering it all now, it’s exactly what they were.

It was then you convinced him to scream from that cliff with you. You both screamed so loud that it made the birds nearby fly away out of fear, and it made you both belly laugh so hard you fell on your backs. The tears had dried against his flushed cheeks by now, but he still felt them coming, every passing second just reminded him that his parents didn't find him all that important to celebrate. And when you noticed, you made him scream some more. Screamed until your throats hurt.

And you were right, he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had something to look forward to at every taekwondo class now other than the sense of accomplishment. He had a friend to spend time with. And for the next few years, you’d continue to be that person for him. His person. The only person who would know how to break him out of the mental prison he was forced into since birth. 

The times waiting around to be picked up, he’d spend time with you, getting ice cream or eating the convenience store snack that he’s been told would rot his brain and eat away at his skin. Other days when they felt like it, they’d ditch class entirely, pretending they were sick just to go watch a movie or find somewhere far away to be themselves, alone together.

Then you both turned eleven. Eleven was when things changed almost drastically. New insecurities formed at that delicate age. Taekwondo classes were harder, kids were getting bigger and stronger, meanwhile you were getting taller. Taller than Seungcheol even, and that shook him.

Maybe that’s when your dynamic started to change. Then came a ripple of bad events, tumbling forward like a domino effect that led to the demise of your friendship. A series of events that Seungcheol forced himself to repress as it gnawed at him like a bad infection.

But not like the way your presence did at this very moment.

“Out of all of the people that answered…”

“Kind of like fate, huh?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Or Divine punishment.”

You furrowed your brows. “Hey.”

"Okay, so, what? You think because we were peers in a Taekwondo class together it meant something?”

“Well, not really, but, you don’t think it’s nice to see a friendly face?”

“Someone I haven’t seen in twenty years is something I would hardly call friendly.”

Your smile fell a little for the first time, only to pick right back up as if it never happened. “Ouch, hurtful. But, I'm still very down to help you play your girlfriend; if you’ll help me, that is.”

Seungcheol looked over at you cautiously, wondering why you, someone who once threw caution to the wind, would take matters into your hands and fake-date for any reason. “Why do you need the help?”

You shrugged. “Bragging rights.”

His eyes could not roll further back into his head. “Can’t do that with a real boyfriend?”

“And you can’t get a real girlfriend to get your employees to like you?”

He stared back at you unamused, but with nothing to come back with.

You shrugged, knowing you had him backed into a corner. “Like it or not, we are alike, you and I. And, we kind of know each other, so it works out.”

“...How much do you actually need this?”

“Just as much as you do.”

He found himself contemplating, crazy enough to think that he could make a situation like this work. “Fine, we’ll draw up a contract at our next meeting during my next lunch hour.”

He started taking his leave quickly in the direction of his office building, not looking back. Still, you called out to him, with more to ask. “Our next date. Why not this weekend?”

“I’m not wasting my weekend for this.” he shouted back, his back shrinking away out of view.

“You’re not going to waste your weekend on your girlfriend?” you shouted louder, only for it to be no use; now you were just a woman screaming by yourself in an alleyway.

You didn’t have too many expectations for this appointment, you were just blessed that you were a freelancer and could make time for it at all. Otherwise, you would’ve never made that lunch. You managed to sneak past his line of vision, eyes darting at him immediately and processing his features before slowly backing away into a corner and taking up a booth. You wanted to observe him before you eventually met him face-to-face, ensuring he wasn’t some weirdo until you realized the face you were looking at was the spitting image of someone you once knew 20 years ago.

You had to be sure, pulling up your phone immediately to stalk any possible social media pages. You found a perfect match and the exact name. Hand over your mouth, you were beyond shocked, You hadn’t thought about this boy in ages and here he was before you, a grown man. A hot, brooding man. 

What the actual fuck.

He started getting up, frustration and impatience written all over his face as he let out a big huff, and you couldn’t help but break out in a smile seeing him sulk until the panic sunk in that he was trying to leave. As he began to head to the door, the exits were blocked, the people passing through all smiles until they laid their eyes on him, and immediately you see their bodies tense up in his presence.

You were beginning to understand the severity and unease that settled in the room when he was present. It was as if their lighthearted comedy turned into a thriller in a matter of seconds. At that moment, you saw your window, so quickly you jumped through it.

You chuckled as you remembered his expression when he first caught sight of you, the pure confusion and bewilderment on his face when you introduced yourself to his coworkers. You were surprised yourself when he did absolutely nothing, but perhaps he showed it as a sign of faith, or maybe he was just that out of it.

Nonetheless, things seemed to work in your favor, and the fake boyfriend you’ve come across was none other than the Choi Seungcheol. A mixed bag of emotions, but something you could work with, way better than any internet creep. It just looked like there was a lot of catching up that needed to be done.

And soon enough, you were about to catch up to the fact that Seungcheol meant business and was anal about his terms and conditions. 

“You have to be punctual, that was your only requirement in the ad alone. There cannot be a repeat of yesterday.”

You nodded, watching as he entered it in the shared document you both had displayed on both your laptops. “Okay, fine, but are you sure about discussing this here? What if you have a run-in with your coworkers again?”

“We’re in the corner, so we’re less likely to be spotted, and if we are it’ll look like another lunch…date.”

You raised an eyebrow, stopping at mid-sip of your Americano. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Why did you say it like that?”

He sighed, eyes visibly dull. “Like what?”

You moved your head animatedly, trying to prove a point. “Like you were choking on it. Like you were revolted by the idea of a date. A date with me?”

“Nothing personal. Don’t get defensive. This stuff is just arbitrary to me.”

“What’s arbitrary about it? People go on dates with people they like and sometimes fall in love. It happens every day.”

“Not me,” he retorted, typing in an important detail.

“So you don’t go on dates?”

“I work. Like everyone should be doing.”

“I work.”

He glanced up from the screen. “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”

“Hmm.” His eyes averted back to the screen. “Vague.”

“I make a good wage,” you emphasized. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

However, he didn’t seem to look convinced. “Are you sure you don't want to be financially compensated?”

“Shut up. I’m doing fine. Let’s get back to the contract please.”

“Finally.”

Things were officially being drawn up electronically before being sent over for you to sign, giving you a sense of relief and a weight off your shoulders. You craned your neck, feeling the strain of peering down at a laptop have its effect on you. “Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did. 

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?” You asked earnestly. 

His brows furrowed, before a subtle cocky smile crept against his face. “A healthy body in its top form is crucial for the average working man. It keeps my physical and mental health from deteriorating, and it’s the only way I can keep up with work, from carrying heavy work loads to travel. Aesthetics weren’t the goal, but thank you for noticing.”

“I didn’t compliment you for being big now, did I?”

Time running out on the clock, your meeting came to a close. You walked out together, keeping up appearances, and despite your protests, he started to hail you a taxi. You frowned as it arrived, seeing him open the door all gentleman like, but the stoic expression tattooed always on his face said otherwise.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not walking you to a bus stop, so take the cab. I’ll pay if you’re in dire need of financial assistance.” You had choice words to say on the tip of your tongue before he ushered you in the back seat, ducking his head in and tapping his card on the machine to pay. “Wherever she wants to go.”

Looking up behind the back of his head, you caught the sight of a few familiar faces, the same ones that you ran into yesterday with and quickly you suddenly found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. He stiffed under your touch, his arms stuck up hovering above you inside the car. “What are you doing?” he questioned, tone cold. 

“Don’t look,” you whispered, “but I see some of your coworkers. Just roll with it until they’re gone.”

Your chin settled into the crook of his neck, fastening yourself and determined to hold on until they were out of sight. Meanwhile, he stared down the slope of your spine, watching your hips shift to comfortably align with his, fitting yourself around his frame, and he helplessly took in your perfume wafting in his nose, noting its clean and pleasant scent. Before he realized, his arms rose, hovering around over your back and moving to close in to claim your warmth.

”Okay, it looks like they left.”

Instead, you released him with a light shove out of the car and patted him on the back before waving him off. He watched as it drove off, your hand waving back at him frantically before the car turned left at an intersection and disappeared on the road. From then, Seungcheol quietly returned to the office to organize his thoughts. Down the street, past the front desk, up the elevator, down the hallway, and entering his office. In all that time, he still could not make sense of what just happened.

But then again, he was learning that he didn’t make sense of a lot of things. Like company dinners, why did they matter?

In fact, Seungcheol had his gripes about company dinners. They were loud, rambunctious, and were centered around drinking until one needed their stomach to get pumped. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the occasional glass of whiskey and a fine wine, but that’s not what this was. 

Tonight, he was surrounded by blue and green bottles, then silver and green cans, all mixed to create a revolting concoction that the team seemed to thrive on to make the night a tolerable one, but what would have made it tolerable for a certain office manager was his fake girlfriend. His eyes shifted from one side of the restaurant to the other, seeing each member of his department slowly loosening their reins as alcohol poured into their system, pinking their cheeks and slurring their words. He did not look forward to the kind of conversations spoken out of turn under the influence.

The manager had been offered a drink five minutes after his arrival, surprised at the minimal spillage with how much Chan’s hands were shaking as he held it with both hands. Nevertheless, he accepted with a wordless nod as the cup was set in front of him, another working man comfortably escaping the clutches of Manager Choi.

Seungcheol was beginning to get annoyed at your tardiness. First it was the initial meeting—the one he still hadn’t gotten over—but now this was the first official public outing. You never cease to amaze him with careless conduct, as if life didn’t have consequences. It was almost as if you never grew up. This was starting to feel like a mistake.

“There you are!” Warmth snaked around his neck and tucked around his chin as someone’s cheek flattened against his.

He didn’t have to look to know it was you; only you were brave enough to commit this far, but he had just as much of a reason to be convincing as you did. He slightly turned his head, a vision of you in his peripheral before you faced him with a grin. “I’m sorry I’m late, don’t be mad,” you lightly pleaded, jutting your lips in a pout.

“Where have you been?” he bluntly asked, hoping it sounded concerned. It did not.

Your pout sunk deeper and you took the empty seat beside him, tugging on his arm. “I told you not to get mad!”

“She’s real?”

“You owe me 50 bucks! Cough up!”

The voices were growing louder, more banter rising at your sudden appearance, and Seungcheol was starting to wonder why he ever wanted this attention in the first place.

“Is this for me?” you asked pointing at the horrid cocktail Chan placed in front of your fake boyfriend before he then covered the top with the back of his hand.

“You evaded my question.”

“I was getting ready and lost track of time. God forbid, I try to look nice for my boyfriend and the people he works with.”

He lightly scoffed, almost impressed with the girlfriend's act.

“So you’re really Mr. Choi’s girlfriend?” An employee you’ve yet to meet sitting across from you asked.

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe,” you chuckled.

Soonyoung, well off his rocker and having already taken down a bottle or two of soju, was quick to intrude. “Well, because he’s terrifying.”

And not even a second after, his coworker–Seungkwan, if you recall correctly–clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes growing wide as saucers before immediately clarifying. “He’s exaggerating! Mr. Choi just seems very…reserved and independent. Maybe too involved with his work?” The man trod lightly, lowering his gaze as Seungcheol shot his eyes back at him when he might as well shoot laser beams. Seungkwan felt them burn through his skull as he internally scolded himself, repeatedly tapping his mouth, for possibly speaking out of turn.

You nodded, pouring yourself a shot and following with a slice of beef off the grill. “It’s true. He’s a lunatic.”

The room went silent, all eyes falling on you as your words sunk in. The second hand fear was palpable, even Soonyoung began to sober up. Seungcheol scoffed, turning to the side as you enjoyed your free meal, not giving a second thought to your insult.

“I tell him he’s always in the office. Always, always! When is he gonna make time for anything else? He might die in that office one day,” you egged, taking another piece of meat followed by another shot.

The young man who introduced himself as Joshua tried his best to come to your rescue, “Miss, that might be–”

“It’s why I started visiting him during lunch. If I didn’t he would live off chicken, rice, and those disgusting whey shakes, wouldn’t he?”

Team member Jihoon chortled before immediately piping down when he saw Seungcheol’s quick side eye before the manager directed his attention back to you, who had a lot to say. The entire team stood, thinking their superior was seconds away from blowing up his shit in your face, they braced for impact. Instead, he rested his elbow on the dining table, rubbing his fingers to his temple, simply responding with, “You’re so loud.”

You pointed childishly, taunting him as if it was recess at a playground. “See, he doesn’t even have a comeback! He isn’t human.”

“Why did I invite you again?”

“Because I’m pretty and delightful?”

“No, seriously.”

Relief fanned out amongst the crew, and held breaths were released as chuckles and smiles took their place. They could breathe knowing that they had you to distract him, settling the nerves they had. Finally, most of them could find themselves enjoying the rest of the night and drinking all the soju and beer their hearts desired.

Throughout the evening, you and Seungcheol would bicker, picking each other apart like an old married couple as the rest watched, occasionally joining in when a common interest was brought up. You would usually engage as Seungcheol just quietly sat back listening, sometimes silently agreeing, learning more things about his employees this one night than the entire year he’s been manager. Seungcheol hadn’t experienced anything like this, or if he had, he didn’t remember.

“You’re enjoying this,” Seungcheol said under his breath, watching you finish a third lettuce wrap.

“I am,” you whispered, chuckling.

“This is the strangest combination I’ve ever seen, but it strangely works,” Jeonghan, one of the more honest members of the department, confidently stated.

Joshua joined in, agreeing. “They really compliment each other for some reason.”

“How did you two meet anyway,” Jihoon politely asked, “If you’re comfortable telling that story.”

You turned to Seungcheol, “You want to tell them or should I?”

He gave you a look, one that said, it’s your job, and you quickly got the hint. 

He was prepared for some cliche, something dumb like out of a romance movie. What he didn’t expect was the next words to come out of your mouth. 

“We actually are childhood friends.”

“You’re the same age?!”

That set them off. Suddenly flurries of grown adults gather around you to hear your story with their starry eyes, eating out of the palm of your hand with every word. It was a talent how you could lie, sprinkling in bits of the truth for authenticity, making every word that came out of your mouth sound like scripture. All while you tossed back soju shots and Seungcheol nursed a single beer in his hand.

“You’re like a movie, childhood rivals to estranged friends to lovers, wow. Lifetime would pay millions,” Chan gushed with red cheeks, covering his face with his palms.

Jeonghan suddenly pounced at an exciting idea. “Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot.”

They rest followed after him, chanting louder and louder. “Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot!”

Seungcheol shook his head. “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

The chants immediately faded out, only a whisper of its remains left in the form of a lost Soonyoung.

“Don’t take it personal, guys. He’s a lightweight. He’s had that beer since he came in and still hasn’t finished because we both know he’d be out like a light if he drank even half of it,” You taunted.

Seungcheol felt challenge brew within him, narrowing his eyes back at you. “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s okay, Honey, being a weak drinker doesn’t mean it's the end of the world.”

The office manager huffed, standing up slamming the metal dining table and startling everyone around him. “One of you, any of you, bring us some soju and two of the biggest glasses you have.”

Their feet scrambled, and demands were met. Your fake boyfriend smirked back at you as he started filling up your glass, pushing it toward you before he started filling up his.

“Lun-a-tic,” you sounded, claiming the glass.

You scooted closer holding the cups in the air before locking elbows and gazes. The glass pressed to your lips, the bitter liquid making it past your mouth and feeling it burn down your throat and then brewing something sinister in your gut, having you struggle to finish it. Meanwhile, your opponent drank his as if it was water, his eyes staring back at you in mockingly, grinning apparently despite his lips being preoccupied.

This little shit.

You both ended with a clean finish, slamming the cups on the metal surface, and you’re swarmed with cheers, reminding you that you had an audience. The heat was instantaneous, spreading all over you like fire, as your eyes grew heavy, the rush of cheeks becoming less coherent and just noise at this point of the night.

“Yeah, they definitely did taekwondo together.”

“I have never seen Mr. Choi that competitive before. He’s so cool!”

That last bit made Seungcheol snicker as he wiped the remaining alcohol off his lips, observing you as you uncharacteristically remained quietly seated with nothing else to say. “And I’m the lightweight? Can you even stand up right now?”

You gave him a mocking look, pulling yourself up from your seat and began doing all the sobriety tests you could possibly think of. From talking in a straight line to touching your toes, you made sure to do all the nine yards. After feeling like you succeeded (you didn’t), you then blew raspberries in his face until finally doing your perfect impression of a big buzzer. “Try again!”

Seungcheol fell off his chair laughing, face bright red in the matter of seconds, belly laughing and stunning everyone that was lucky enough to witness before he crawled up to get back in his chair. He pointed at you, still laughing, “You look so stupid!”

“Oh,” Minghao pointed at his superior’s face, “He has a dimple.”

“Nevermind that, he’s laughing.”

“Take a picture! Take hundreds of them!”

The rest of the night became a blur, a chaotic blur Seungcheol was probably better off not remembering, but all of the things he did remember made him feel warm. Or perhaps that was the alcohol lodged into his system. Company dinners can be alright. He probably won’t go to all of them, but one here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The next time Seungcheol felt awake was when he was in his bedroom, the sun peeking through the curtain as it beamed down on him. It was rare for him to wake up after the sun came up. “What the…”

He had no idea how he got home, pulling the covers off himself and immediately looking for his phone and found it conveniently plugged, and said that it was– “9:34. Fuck.”

"Rise and shine, sunshine,” you said bursting through the room, and Seungcheol immediately threw the covers back on, hiding his body as soon as he realized he looked the shittiest he’s ever looked. “How the fuck–why the hell are you in my apartment? How the hell are you in my apartment?”

“I took you home yesterday.”

“There’s a keypad!”

You giggled. “You put in the code for me. Drunk you is very nice.”

“You were drunk too!”

You clamped your hands over your ears. “Stop yelling, god. I sobered up hours before you did. Hangover still sucks though.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you found out where I fucking live.”

“The ID in your wallet, of course, which you should really be more careful about giving it to people when you’re drunk because, holy shit, I would've scammed you. What if it got into the wrong hands?”

“I’M LOOKING RIGHT AT THEM!”

“OW! Chill out. How are you not hungover right now?”

“I am, but–shit, none of this is making sense.”

“Well, while you have your mid-life crisis, I left a hangover cure and breakfast on your coffee table. Eat it, you’re going to want it. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you sleep here?”

You shrugged, “Oh the couch. It was like 2am and I was still tipsy, I wasn’t gonna go out there and become a statistic.”

“You just slept in a man’s apartment like nothing.”

“It’s your apartment. I’m fine.”

“Am I not a man?”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off. “You are hardly a human, iRobot. Now go eat. Oh, and remember next Sunday is my day, Carts and Tarts. Golfing and brunch with some of my college friends, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“What did I tell you about weekends?”

“Make an exception, yesterday went extremely well. I think everyone is warming up to you a bit more, and all you have to do is stand next to me. And maybe smile, but that's it!”

He groaned, throwing a pillow in his face, the migraines kicking in hard. “I feel like shit.”

“Which means it was a success! We’ll go over what you’ll be wearing and a bit of characterization over the week.”

“Characterization?” Seungcheol mumbled, the word foreign on his tongue. 

“Enjoy your Saturday!”

Carefully, you walked out, closing the door behind you and hearing the automatic lock click in pace. You passed through his front lawn, making your way past his gates, and you took sight of his neighborhood–admittedly prettier in daylight– before heading down the sidewalk to hail a cab. Waiting for one to arrive, you marinated in what transpired the night before and the images played in your mind in full color, as if it happened just moments ago.

“Fuck, you’re huge.”

“You tol’ me ta’ already.” Seungcheol murmured as he buried himself into your shoulder, letting you drag him to the entrance of his residence.

“What’s your code?”

“Secret,” he giggled. 

To which, you rolled your eyes. “You put it in then.”

You pushed him closer to the keypad, holding his wrist up to the screen and lifting up his head so he could see the numbers. His eyelids almost sunk to the bottom, but it was barely visible enough to make out what was in front of him. “Oh, I know this game, I’m good at games…”

“I’m sure you are, try this one out.”

His finger limply hovered over the keypad, giggling up a storm.“ 0…5…2…6.”

“You said it was a secret and said it out loud anyway, are you that drunk?”

“I win!”

“Oh, my god.” You rushed him inside, hoping none of the neighbors showed up or were nearby to have heard that, and scanned the perimeter for his bedroom. His instinct kicked in the second he entered inside, and he pulled away from you, taking himself upstairs.

“He’s gonna fucking kill himself.” You trailed behind him, on every step behind him, ready to catch him behind every tumble, and ensuring that Seungcheol in no way hurt himself as he made it up those steps.

As he finally reached the top floor, he turned the corner, entered a very obvious bedroom, and collapsed on the king-sized bed in the center. He laid sprawl, limbs spread wide like a starfish, and the biggest grin on his face that showcased his dimple gracefully embedded in his cheek.

You chuckled before dragging his body up the bed, urging him off the covers to usher him under. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”

You then turned away, about to leave when felt something wrap around your wrist pulling you near the bed.

“Don’t go.”

Your head back to see Seungcheol at the brink of tears, his features softening at the sight of you as he curled up into bed, sniffling. You dipped a little closer. “You don’t want me to leave?”

He shook his head, whining childishly, “Stay…”

He pulled you closer, now ushering you on the bed, and suddenly you were there together, him ready to sleep all tucked in, and you firmly sat because a grown man with the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes asked you not to go. 

So you stayed, just as he asked, and slept in the living room once he was sound asleep.

You smiled to yourself, regretful you didn’t take a picture or record a video of the incident. Although, if you did and he found out, he would’ve killed you. Or, you would’ve had some delicious blackmail material. The world may never know. You were just happy to know he still had that side to him. It was refreshing, and honestly, it made you a little hopeful.

Now you had to see if you could drag it out of him sober.

“Now to be the perfect boyfriend, my friend group has always said that the guy had to check at least five of these boxes.”

He looked back at you, not showing any interest in the matter while absentmindedly drinking his Americano that he used to hate, but he’s been enjoying a lot more lately thanks to you. “Is this all really necessary?”

You nodded determinedly. “You’re unlikable, and you need lessons. Yes, this is very important.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve received two good mornings today, and only five people decided to hide from me.”

“No one should be hiding from you,” you rubbed your chin in thought, “Sounds like you still need work. I might have to phase in a new method.”

“Excuse me, what new method would that be?”

“Never mind that. For now, Carts and Tarts. The girls have always said a guy needs five things: eyes, ears, mouth, heart, and…” Your gaze lowered to his nether regions, and Seungcheol did a double take, covering his privates with a pained expression.

“Those are just body parts, and have some decorum, would you?”

You pointed to the first box you needed checked. “Eyes: they need to be able to pay attention to you, notice things about you that you or other people wouldn’t otherwise see. To be loved is to be seen.”

Seungcheol listening to your reasoning and then mentally noting it for later. “Ah, and ears.”

“Listening to what you have to say. Being heard is just as important, but it doesn’t stop at hearing the words, it’s understanding the meaning behind them, which brings me to…”

“Mouth. To speak?” he easily guessed.

You nodded, passing him a cookie. “Ask questions. Learn why they’re happy, sad, angry, or anxious. Or even, include them in your conversations, sometimes they want to hear what you’re interested in. I think you’re getting where I’m going next.”

He took apart the cookie, breaking it in half, and passed it back to you. “Heart. Have a passion for something.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. Sometimes it's a job, or a family, or a passion projection, but there needs to be ambition and drive, but most importantly and above all, they love you. If they love you enough, they can balance both. They should have something in their life besides you, but still love you, you know?”

Seungcheol was buffering a bit on that last one but he decided not to question it. “I’m assuming that last one has to do with coitus?”

Mid-chew of your snack, appalled enough to speak with it still in your mouth while spewing out its crumbs, “Why would you use that word?”

“I knew I would invoke an interesting reaction, but not cause an avalanche.” 

You rolled your eyes, tapping your mouth with a napkin. “Everyone wants to have orgasms in their relationships, it’s at the top of their Christmas list. I’ve seen so many relationships get broken up because the sex sucked or someone has a weird kink–and I’m not kink shaming! Being weird can be cool.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said plainly.

“I’m just saying.”

“Never in my life did I expect this to be the topic of today’s meeting.”

You flatten your hands against the table, a satisfied smile on your face. “Well, now you understand. Try to pretend you're at least any one of these, and play up the boyfriend bit. You already know a little about me, just put it to good use.”

He observed you, studying your intent under the humor and lighthearted candor. “You really care a lot about this.”

“It’s just annoying how much they care about how much I'm getting laid. They’re a very large and very involved bunch.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes in disdain. “Why do they care?”

“Everyone is just either dating, married, or engaged. I'm the last person left, and I haven’t had a relationship that’s lasted more than three months. I just want them to lay off, make them think I'm dating someone with marriage in mind.”

“And when we don’t get married?”

You grinned, as if you have been waiting for this question to be asked. “I’ve curated a long 2-year plan to make us look like a committed couple. We fall in love passionately, so in love that we summer together and backpack over Europe, Asia, seeing all the great seas, seeing the world together…but then, I come back home, sad and single because even though you proposed and are desperately in love with me–”

“I think there are some plot holes–”

“You fall ill bitten by a radioactive spider exploring a jungle and pass away,” You concluded, exaggeratedly gasping into your hands.

“...isn’t that the plot to Madame Web?”

“You actually watched that?”

“You don’t know what I do on my weekends.”

“Watching awful movies is what it sounds like.”

He looked up to the ceiling, trying to visual all this together, as if any of this was remotely feasible. “We live in the same city, has it ever occurred to you that I could bump into any one of them?”

You shrugged, “Easy. You turn around and run in the other direction.”

“Your plan is horrendously flawed.”

“You wanna get married then?”

“Where’s the spider? I can get a headstart.”

“Just be a good little boyfriend.”

Seungcheol tsked. 

“What?”

He looked off at the window, noticing that it was going to rain soon. Things needed to pick up if he wanted to get back to the office dry. “I just wouldn’t have thought that you of all people would cater to a society that cared about something superficial like having a boyfriend.”

Your smile faltered. “Well, a lot has happened in 20 years. And who says I’m catering to anyone? Ever consider maybe…forget it.”

He narrowed his eyes, challenge burning through them, “What? Finish your thought.”

“We’re done here. Just come on Sunday, follow the dress code, and don’t be yourself,” and with that you threw your tote over your shoulder and walked out, not bothering to wait for him to trail after you, hailing a cab on your own accord.

The rest of the week you would make your lunch ‘dates,’ but it would be mainly for show, having you only swirling your straw in your drink as you moped, halfheartedly being present for most of the time. Usually, Seungcheol would appreciate silence, but from you, it was deafening, even with the background noise of the cafe. 

He pretended not to notice, sitting in silence with you, but he’d occasionally look up, seeing you glued to your phone, only interacting with him when it came to what they were contractually obligated to do for one another. He should’ve been pleased, yet, he was dying to talk to you.

Sunday finally came around and unfortunately, your bad mood had traveled with you, even in your cute little tennis skirt get-up you had been looking for the opportunity to wear. At least, Seungcheol had made the effort to look the part for the day. That morning you met, and he surprised you with his cooperation by looking like every country club asshole you've ever met, down to the pristine khakis and golf shoes with matching socks. You wondered if he bought that before the plans were set in motion, or if he already had it lying around. Either way, he looked convincing enough to persuade a few friends. 

“Good job,” you whispered halfheartedly.

“How long do we have to be here?” He mumbled under his breath, cutting into his spinach omelet after forgoing all the possible carb options, just like you expected him to.

“Two hours, tops. Just watch them get a couple swings in and we can excuse ourselves after, say we have another thing we gotta go to.”

You were then greeted by a familiar voice, beckoning you from the other end of the table. Her eyes were bright and perfectly cat eyed, lips pink and glossy, but her voice was mature and curious, dying to pull the information she could out of you. “So, how did you two come to know each other?”

Chaeyoung had always been an instigator, asking the pressing questions and demanding answers. It was natural for her as a news investigator, and she was the one who insisted your new boyfriend come to initiate him into their pack. This happened to be the first time you accepted her challenge, earning her intrigue, and like she did with all your boyfriends she’s had the pleasure–or more often displeasure than not–of meeting, she had to get the rundown. And she would do whatever she could to get it.

You cleared your throat, wiping your lips with a tablecloth. “Well—“

“Not you, darling, let’s hear it from Seungcheol.”

He hadn’t prepared for this, snapping his head at you a glint of panic was in his eyes. You grinned over at Chaeyoung, holding onto Seungcheol’s hand that rested on the table. “Don’t go interrogating my boyfriend, he just got here.”

“Well, it’s only fair to tell his version while he's here. There’s never been a gathering as big as this with your other boyfriends. He has to be special if you brought him here today.”

“Chaeyoung—“

“I can tell the story,” Seungcheol finally reassured.

You looked at him confused then bewilderment, fearing the words that come out of his next could be the end all be all of this entire charade.

You had to stop him before he ruined this. “Cheol—“

“She came crashing into my life, and I haven’t known peace since.”

If your eyes bulged any bigger, they would be falling out of your head. “I—“

“Really?” Chaeyoung’s interest got piqued, leaning in closer as the everyone else at the table lowered their voice, hoping to listen in. “How so?”

“We had met before. A long, long time ago, and I couldn’t fathom her existence in the slightest. She was a mind bending whirlwind, like no one else I’ve ever met before, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. That period of our lives we spent almost every waking moment with each other, telling each other things that we promised not to tell anybody else. Like an oath. And then all of a sudden, one day, we lost contact. No calls, no letters, no voicemails. We didn’t speak to each other for years until…,” he turned to you, a subtle softness in his eyes that only you could barely recognize under that cold, stiff exterior. “We passed by each other at a cafe near my office. I didn’t know what to think of it first…but she called it fate.”

He turned back to everyone, and they all just stared, peering at the newcomer as if he was a saint dropped from the sky, while the women at the table swooned after listening to his story, clinging onto his every word.

“Men like him do exist…” Yeri said dreamily, ignoring her longtime boyfriend, who at the moment was scarfing down his fifth quiche.

You were shell shocked, jaw actually dropped slack until Seungcheol stuffed an egg tart in it, occupying your mouth to avoid suspicion.

“And he’s feeding her. Why don’t you feed me?!”

“Dammit, they’re adorable.”

You weren’t sure who you were sitting with anymore. The fake boyfriend you hired was a calculating, condescending, arrogant prick that relied on you to make him look good. How was he doing a better job than you?

“Do you golf, Seungcheol?” Baekho inquired, warming up to him after hearing the sweet fable. “If so, we have to see your swing.”

He replied back with a shrug, “I’ve dabbled, although I was going to take it easy today.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This one isn’t sure how long we can stay.”

You glared at him, how dare he push the blame on you. You looked back at Baekho apologetically. “We had a prior engagement. I’m sorry. I mixed the dates up and couldn’t cancel on either one of you.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t mean you can’t play. Just a round, what do you both say?”

Seungcheol looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and you truly do not know how to approach it in the slightest.

“Okay, I guess a round can’t hurt.”

Baekho along with many other guests lit up in excitement. “Well, what are we waiting for? On the field, we go!”

Several members of the brunch got a head start on the field, taking their clubs and carts as they started heading off the first hole. Meanwhile, Seungcheol pulled you aside, seeing that you were both alone with no one else to eavesdrop. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“What? It’s one round.” You shrugged. “A game can’t be that long.”

A pained expression struck his face, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes. “Have you ever played golf?”

“No, I was never interested in it.”

“Jesus—do you see how big this field is? An average game of golf is four hours, sometimes more.”

Your eyes were about to shoot out of their sockets like any of the golf balls on the field. “Four hours?!”

“Yes, and you just,” he sighed, “Come on.” 

He took you by your hands, noticing them covered in a pair of gloves before dragging you to your designated cart. “Why the hell do you own golf gloves if you don’t golf?

“I thought today was the day I’d start,” you cried, nearing the verge of tears as you came to the realization of the eternal hell you’ve subjected yourself to.

And Seungcheol did not lie, it felt as if it would go on forever. As everyone was putting, the sun was beaming down on you, slowly but surely killing your will to live. At this point, you welcomed it. You already started to envy the ice in your lemonade that melted, seeing it was given the mercy of peace from this endless boredom. You weren’t used to being outside for this long. During these brunches, you would be inside in the spa by now with mud baths, not getting ready to be spattered in mud puddles when a ball hits water.

“Fore!”

“Just let the ball hit me right at the temple, right here,” you quietly mumbled from your golf cart, watching Baekho in front of you take a swing as a couple of other members of the brunch spectated from behind.

Seungcheol reunited beside you, taking a swig of his water bottle and sweating after swinging a few times around the field. “I guess this counts as my workout for the day.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” you responded sarcastically, numb to all feelings.

He leaned over the golf cart, arms over the cart roof. “You had every opportunity to say no.”

“And I didn’t, okay? You gonna rub it in my face?”

He grinned, that dimple you once found cute growing increasingly irritating. “Potentially.”

“You’re actually having fun, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, not denying it. “Golf is entertaining on occasion, and it’s true I didn’t plan on playing, but it’s kind of nice to be playing with a group this big. It used to be just me and father.”

“He taught you how to play?”

“He thought it was good to teach about control. It forced me to utilize the amount of strength and helped me understand optimal angles. Once you master that, you can get closer to reaching your optimal target. He said that’s just about all you need to be the person you want to be in life.” Although he sounded as if he spoke fondly, a storm brewed in his gaze, one that it seemed like it would persist if you pressed on any further.

“Wow…somehow you made golf even more boring.” You stepped off the cart, stretching your legs and bending your knees to make sure they don’t give out on you in pins and needles. “I might go back to the club house. Get something more to eat, catch the news, learn about some new propaganda, anything but this really.”

His gaze pulled up behind, staring past your head at coming towards you both, eyes widening in fear. “Look out!”

His arms wrapped around you, clutching your body before he tore you away from the ground beneath you, and shielded you from the incoming impact. Your face buried in his chest, hearing the deafening screech of wheels scraping the grass as it dug into a puddle conveniently in front of you both and just in the way of the vehicle gone rogue, splashing mud water onto whoever was nearby.

“Oh shit, my bad!” Beomgyu, the cart boy and designated driver of the vehicle, said quickly before driving off.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, pounding against his as it raced at the same erratic pace. Your bodies intertwined with one another, his caging yours like a momentary safe haven. He pulled back you to level with him, feeling his firm grip hold you steady. “You okay?” Seungcheol asked, scanning you over.

You panted softly, your breath caught in your throat, since you were still in shock from the near collision that had just happened before calmly nodding. He looked you over, dusting any dirt and debris off of you, and he finally let you free once he was sure for himself you were fine. “You should’ve just stayed on the cart. That could’ve gotten really bad,” he scolded, pushing your golf cap over your eyes.

“Hey! Oh my god! What happened?”

Your friends rushed over after seeing the scene, prodding you with concerning questions to which you answered with ‘I’m fine’s and ‘okay’s. However, amongst the noise, you finally took notice of Seungcheol, specifically, the aftermath of the incident and his clothes stained in murky brown specks and splotches.

“Your clothes…” you pointed out with a guilt ridden face.

He shook his head reassuringly, “I’ll change once I get home.”

“Nonsense,” Minhyun retorted, “Grab something from the merch shop. Complimentary of course.”

“I appreciate it,” Seungcheol nodded, “I do think I’ll have to take her back home. I don’t know if I can keep playing after that just happened.”

“Of course! We understand,” Junhui agreed, looking toward you empathetically. “Make sure she’s okay, and take care, kid.”

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, finally getting on the cart and driving off the field. It wasn’t until you were halfway across the field that you realized what he had managed to do in the matter of seconds you had. You pivoted your head to him, seeing that the concern that was once on his face melt into his default expression, phlegmatic with a hint of arrogance.

“You evil genius.”

Seungcheol smirked, looking at you through his peripheral vision. “‘Strike the iron, while it’s hot,’ I believe the saying is called.” 

You made a visit to the merch shop as Minhyun suggested and met with the shopkeeper about getting their signature embroidered shirt with the country club's logo on the breast. He welcomed you, saying he was expecting you both after getting a call, but apologizing for the limited sizes. It was out of both your hands at that point, so you accepted it, handing Seungcheol off the medium and hoping for the best.

“I think this room is good.” You looked for an empty multipurpose for him to change into after seeing all the bathrooms nearby were closed for maintenance. The efforts to go further across the club for other bathrooms wasn’t worth the trouble, so this seemed to be the next best thing.

He followed after you, holding the shirt and walking in nonchalantly as you tried to quietly close the heavy door shut. He peered over at you, watching you behave strangely suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Closing the door!” you shout-whispered. “What if people see us sneaking around and think we’re doing something indecent?”

“You think shutting the door quietly and whispering makes us look any better?” he asked in a normal volume.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you respond in your normal volume.

He rolled his eyes before pulling the bottom of his shirt up and over his head, seeing every inch of his abdomen: every muscle, every curve, and every vein.

“Woah,” you quickly turned around. “Just couldn’t wait to get your clothes off in front of me, could you?”

He scoffed, putting his dirty shirt aside before picking up the new one. “Why’d you turn around? Nothing you’ve never seen before, I’m sure.”

“Did you just slut shame me while you’re the one taking your clothes off? The gall!”

He pulled his newly acquired shirt over his head, feeling it hug his body as he stretched out the fabric. “You can look now.”

You spun back, seeing that the shirt they’ve got might have been a tad smaller than they anticipated, compressing against him to the point that his muscles bulged at the seams, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He might as well not have worn a shirt at all. “That might be a bit small on you,” you stiffly pointed out.

“Well, it’s all we have.” He looked in the reflection in the mirror placed on the wall, unfortunately agreeing with you, checking himself in the mirror and already feeling it start to chafe.

“I’m surprised you did that today,” you brought up. “The speech, then the crazy save, wow.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, so was I. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How did you improv all that so quickly?”

He shrugged, attempting to stretch the fabric even a little bit, hoping it wouldn't tear. “I didn’t really. I just said how I felt.”

“Wait, really?”

He slightly turned his head. “Yes. Like how I couldn’t fathom how someone as insane and careless as you existed.”

You clenched your teeth, knitting your eyebrows together, “You fu-“

“Or when I couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s true, I made it my life’s mission then to beat you at every taekwondo match possible.”

“I hate you so—”

“And you said it was fate, not me, so technically I didn’t even lie.” He turned back, walking back to you, “Then again, omission is a form of lying on its own. You would know since lying to my employees is like an Olympic sport to you.”

Your nose scrunched, displeased. “Your welcome, whatever. We fooled them. Good work. That will keep them off my back for a couple weeks.”

He clapped his hands. “Good, sounds like my work is done.”

“Ha. For now. Your end though, still requires a lot of work. Look forward to that overtime.”

That’s where phasing the new method came in. It was a risky move that you had your doubts about, but considering the trauma bonding that fine Sunday, you were sure Seungcheol could warm up to the idea. However, it couldn’t work if he knew it was happening, that’s why he had to go in blind.

[part 2 immediately found here]

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae @flwrshwa @itsmarieposa @palmsugr @apriyada @skittlez-area512 @choco-scoups @actuallynarii @tournesol155 @vvvlog @nerdycheol @christinewithluv @alyssa19123456 @kwonhs96 @scheolrriess @ch-rrycloud @fancypeacepersona @obsessionreads09 @userelv @minahaeyo @cookiearmy @wonwooz1 @carefully325

[luvyeni]

LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify

you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?

“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.

“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.

he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.

“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”

“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”

“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.

“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’

he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”

“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”

“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”

he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.

“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”

“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”

“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”

as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”

you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”

he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”

you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.

“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”

haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”

“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?

the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”

the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”

he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”

he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”

the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”

he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”

he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”

he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”

he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.

“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”

it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.

“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”

“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.

he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

©️LUVYENI

[binomech]

irving b. having a crisis of faith because for the first time in his five years of existence he is allowed to set boundaries. it's an affirmation that his body is his and that there will be no punishment if he says no and that in being given that choice there is recognition and care the likes of which faith to his employers have never given. not even irving bailiff, who barely sleeps, and irving b. gets punished for his exhaustion.

helena eagan with the power to make helly's body hers without her knowledge or consent, having sex with mark s. who thinks she's helly, mark s. who is so desperate to have a love of his own he reacts to irving's reminder of gemma with a need to reaffirm that outie mark is not him, that it's his body too.

irving waterboarding helena and saying he will kill her if they don't bring helly back to this body and immediately apologizing because he violated helly's right to do to this body what she wants with it. because when she almost killed herself it was one of the few choices she ever got to make about her life.

him needing mark to know that it was not helly, that he was not consenting to what he was doing, that helena was using him because she felt a right to helly's body and her relationship with mark. knowing that he would be killed for the transgression but could not bear to see that profound violation of his friends' bodies.

when irving confronts helena he knows that the consequence is death, at the cost of giving helly her body back. and if helly taught him anything is that they're not the only ones who have a right to decide what this body does. mark is a person, he's not some commodity helena eagan has a right to because she owns helly's body.

also of course mark scout reintegrating because he wants to see his wife with zero input from mark s. and it's *his* wife and mark s. only exists because she died, so if she's not dead, then what's mark s. for? they're the same, right? there is no other me! i am a person, he is not.

consent is an acknowledgement that the person in front of you has much right to their body as you do to yours. and when you are told you're a guest on someone else's body, when your life is so disposable it can be erased from existence, that act of recognition has more weight than words can possibly express.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Special Delivery

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, possessive Simon, arguments, annoyance (spouse and nonspouse annoyance)

Author’s Note: Simon forgot some stuff at home, you are a firecracker if anyone has ever seen one so here we are. Inspired by one of my favs @bi-writes and her younger!wife x John Price fic

Masterlist | Bi’s Fanfic

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It starts with a text.

My Ghostie: Forgot my wallet.

Then another.

My Ghostie: And my lunch.

And another.

My Ghostie: ...And the file on my desk.

You stare at your phone, lips pressing into a flat line. Unbelievable. You love your husband, truly, but some days? Some days he tests your patience.

With a sigh, you gather everything—his wallet, his carefully packed lunch, and the stupid file he swore he wouldn’t forget—before grabbing your keys. You could ignore it, let him suffer, but you both know you won’t.

Which is how you find yourself at the base entrance, staring down a soldier who looks entirely unimpressed with your existence. Arms crossed, legs planted apart, like he’s guarding the last bastion of civilization.

“I can’t just let you in, ma’am.” His voice is flat, bored, like this is the most mundane problem he’s dealt with all day.

You, on the other hand, are vibrating with irritation. “Look,” you huff, adjusting the duffel bag on your shoulder and waving the brown paper lunch bag in your other hand. “I’m not some crazy stalker trying to infiltrate your little clubhouse. My husband, Simon Riley, left his wallet, his lunch, and some other important stuff at home, and I’m just here to drop it off.”

The guard doesn’t budge. “Can’t confirm that without proper clearance.”

Your patience is wearing thin. You exhale sharply, then, with slow, deliberate movements, hold up a very distinct leather wallet between two fingers and shake it slightly. “Alright, genius, let’s use some logic. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, do you think I’d just so happen to have Ghost’s actual shit?”

The man hesitates, clearly uncertain. “That… that could belong to anyone—”

“Oh my God,” you groan, resisting the urge to fling the wallet at him. “If I was trying to sneak onto base, don’t you think I’d pick something a little less obvious?”

You go in for the kill. Flipping open the wallet, you shove it right into his face. “Does that look like just anyone to you?”

The poor bastard leans in, eyes locking onto the ID tucked inside. His face blanches.

It’s right there. Simon’s name. Simon’s face. Your husband’s face.

“…I mean, I still can’t—”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright, listen here, Private Dumbass.” You shift your stance, letting the overhead lights catch the big-ass rock sitting pretty on your ring finger. You tap it against the metal of the gate for good measure. *Clink, clink.* “See this? This means I can make your life very difficult.”

The man stiffens. You decide to twist the knife. “I may not have rank here, but I am married to a lieutenant. And if you don’t let me through in the next ten seconds, I will personally make it my mission to have you running laps around this base until your legs fall off.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “You… you can’t do that.”

You smirk. “You sure about that? ’Cause my husband definitely can.”

That does it. With a sigh, he gestures for another soldier to let you through. “Fine, fine. Go.”

“Damn right,” you mutter, marching past him with your head held high.

Smart man.

——

After waiting at the gate for so long, you storm onto the base with a paper bag in one hand and a duffel slung over your shoulder, exuding confidence as your boots click against the concrete. The guards barely had time to stop you before a sharp-tongued remark had them stepping aside, unsure if they were more intimidated by your presence or impressed by your sheer audacity.

Simon’s dumbass forgot his lunch, his wallet, and a few other essentials, and you’ll be damned if he goes without just because he’s too stubborn to admit he needs you. He might be the terrifying "Ghost" to everyone else, but to you, he’s just your husband—the same man who forgets his keys and leaves his socks all over the damn house.

Walking into the common area is like stepping into a lion’s den—if lions had the audacity to gawk at you like a bunch of wide-eyed recruits seeing their drill sergeant off duty for the first time. A few soldiers are loitering, some cleaning their gear, others playing cards, but the moment they spot you, their focus shifts. You can practically hear their thoughts.

Who the hell is this?

Why does she look like she owns the place?

Did we miss a briefing?

The most unsubtle reaction comes from a particularly cheeky Scot lounging with his feet kicked up on a chair.

“Well, now,” Soap drawls, an impish grin spreading across his face. “And who might you be?”

You don’t bother stopping. “Not in the mood, Braveheart. Where’s Simon?”

Soap lets out a low whistle. “Oi, no need to be feisty, lass. Maybe if ye tell me who ye are, I can help.”

You sigh, shift the duffel on your shoulder, and lift your left hand just enough for the overhead light to catch on the massive wedding ring decorating your finger.

“His wife.”

The room goes silent.

Soap’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. His mouth opens, closes, then—“No shit.”

“No shit,” you confirm dryly. “And unless you lot want to deal with a grumpy, starving Ghost, you’ll tell me where he is. Now.”

Before anyone can answer, a deep, familiar voice rumbles through the space.

“Don’t need to.”

The effect is instant. The tension in the room shifts as every soldier in the vicinity straightens instinctively.

You turn just as Simon strides in, the mask covering his face doing nothing to hide the sheer command he carries with every step. He looks at you, and even though his expression is unreadable, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“The hell are you doin’ here?”

You plant a hand on your hip, tilting your chin up. “Bringing you your shit.” You shove the paper bag into his chest before shrugging the duffel off your shoulder and letting it drop at his feet. “Your lunch. Your wallet. And the file you swore up and down you wouldn’t forget.”

Simon catches everything with practiced ease, his gaze dropping briefly to the items before flicking back to you. “…I would’ve managed.”

You snort. “Yeah? And by ‘managed,’ you mean sulking around all day, hangry as hell, making everyone else suffer for it?”

A muffled snicker comes from Soap. Simon’s head *slowly* turns toward him. The room collectively holds its breath.

Soap lifts his hands innocently. “What? She’s got a point.”

You smirk, smug. “See? Even he agrees with me.”

Simon exhales sharply, a sound you know is the closest thing to a fond sigh. Then, before you can react, he hooks a hand around your waist and tugs you in, pressing your body flush against his. It’s firm, grounding, and entirely possessive. His fingers spread wide over the small of your back, holding you there like he’s making sure you’re real.

“You shouldn’t’ve come all this way,” he mutters, voice softer now.

“You love when I show up unannounced.”

His grip tightens slightly. You know you’ve won. His hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer if that was possible. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding you in a sense. You tilt your head up at him, grinning. “Besides, I know you missed me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he rumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“And you’re lucky I love your grumpy ass.” You grin up at him, reaching up to brush your fingers over the side of his mask. “Eat your lunch, alright? I made sure it’s still warm.”

A long beat passes before Simon finally responds.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Soap mutters something under his breath, and Simon growls, “MacTavish, if you don’t shut it—”

But before he can finish, you press a quick kiss to his mask-covered cheek. His grip tightens slightly, and you catch the subtle shift in his stance. Oh yeah, he missed you.

“Well, my work here is done,” you say, stepping back with a playful salute. “Try not to forget anything else next time, yeah?”

Simon grunts, his version of a reluctant thank you. But as you turn to leave, you hear him mutter, “Get home safe, love.”

As you turn to leave, you call to your husband, “Oh, by the way—told the guy at the gate he’s gotta run laps for giving me a hard time. Make sure he actually does it, yeah?”

You shoot him a wink over your shoulder before strutting out, leaving a room full of stunned soldiers—and one very flustered Ghost—behind.

You don’t stay to hear the response, but you do catch the sound of Soap absolutely losing it as you step out the door.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[heavyhitterheaux]

NOLA Stuntin'

See Me Through You Insta AU

Liked by joeyb_9, thewomancave, taylorrooks, erinthegymnast, lahjay10_ and 921,360 others

wifeyshiesty: It's clear that the Burrow babies want to be the star of the show tonight, but we're on our way to support daddy 😘💕 #NFLHonorsBound

lahjay10_: damn I swear you just told me yesterday you were pregnant. How much longer to go?

wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ there's enough time for me to bust you upside your head for eating my food yesterday when we were at the parents house

lahjay10_: you LITERALLY said that you didn't want it! why are you so violent when your short ass barely comes up to my knee?

joeybenthusiast: WIFEY SHIESTY IN THE BUILDINGGGGG!

erinthegymnast: never steal a pregnant woman's food whether she says she wants it or not, I guarantee you that she does lol

joeyb_9: aww daddy loves all three of you and you look amazing princess 😘

joeyb_9: lahjay10_ take it back because next thing you know she's about to start yelling

wifeyshiesty: joeyb_9 you get on my nerves lol but nah don't try to save him. he deserves this ass whooping that he's about to get

lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty gotta catch me first Pebbles 😊

joeyb_9: wifeyshiesty well everyone in that pic is going to call me daddy at some point in time

wifeyshiesty: joeyb_9 JOSEPH! BEHAVE!

taylorrooks: you look beautiful! and why didn't we get a pic together?! I mean we are the hosts of the most streamed NFL podcast to date 😉

thewomancave: GORGEOUS!!!

wifeyshiesty: taylorrooks who knows?! But lunch on me tomorrow! And we can also plot my baby brother's demise for eating MY food that my dad made specifically for me

Liked by joeyb_9, cincinattibengals, thewomancave, lahjay10_, teehiggins, and 1,295,306 others

wifeyshiesty: my man, my man, my man 😍

lahjay10_: he was mine first

wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ don't sit near me tonight because I will choke the shit out of you

lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty I'm telling mommy you threatened me

teehiggins: yall can't get along for anything lol

wifeyshiesty: he started it

thewomancave: wifey shiesty is always right about everything, we stand by it

joeyb_9: I didn't even notice you took these lol is this why you took so long to get ready?

erinthegymnast: uh oh shots fired

wifeyshiesty: joeyb_9 um excuse me, YOUR HEAVY ASS CHILDREN is why it took me so long to get ready

joeyb_9: wifeyshiesty you changed your outfit four times.....

wifeyshiesty: joeyb_9 watch it, I will make you sleep on the balcony tonight. you about to be on my list like Ja'Marr

lahjay10_: come on Joe, we can take her

joeyb_9: lahjay10_ and wake up dead? nah, that's all you bro. happy wife, happy life

Liked by wifeyshiesty, cincinnatibengals, erinthegymnast, lahjay10_, nfl, nflhonors, and 3,493,082 others

joeyb_9: Not exactly the award that you want, but I'm happy and proud of myself for persevering through a season ending injury to come back stronger than ever. Here's to me continuing to get better and moving forward.

wifeyshiesty: you did the damn thing and I am proud of you NO MATTER WHAT. time and time again, you have proven as to why you are one of the best players in the league and I will always stand by it. always going to be in your corner cheering you on. I love you long time

joeyb_9: wifeyshiesty I love you more and thank you for taking the time to learn how to play piano with me, that way I can serenade you any time I want 😉

erinthegymnast: yall make me sick, but are so ridiculously adorable. so proud of you, Joey!

lahjay10_: my boy did his big one!

teehiggins: well deserved!

jjettas2: making history one season at a time!

thewomancave: congratulations to our favorite number one listener!

Liked by lahjay10_, jjettas2, joeyb_9, lsufootball, cincinattibengals, thewomancave, and 1,475,362 others

wifeyshiesty: my favorite LSU boys! (yes,I coordinated both of their outfits, look at these divas!)

jjettas2: uh? am I not here too?! so, you just leave me out?

wifeyshiesty: Justin, please don't start with me. my feet hurt and I'm hungry and your ass was NOWHERE to be found. yes you are included in my favorite LSU boys category

lahjay10_: oh, so I'm forgiven?

wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_: no.

joeyb_9: but I'm number one right?

lahjay10_: uh no. my nickname is LITERALLY uno

thewomancave: uh oh, the girlies are FIGHTING

wifeyshiesty: imma delete this whole post if yall don't get it together smh

erinthegymnast: they asses have been on one since 2018, do you remember when we were out all night and it was 5 am and Justin was like what's the next move? and you yelled 'Justin, I can't even fucking see anymore bro. take me home.' lmaooooo

wifeyshiesty: erinthegymnast lmaooo I forgot all about that. I think I had like an exam that monday and all three of them were acting like it was no big deal and I was serious! my contacts were blurry!

jjettas2: I see you still graduated, so it wasn't a big deal obviously!

joeybupdates: literally just waiting for Joe and Y/N to adopt me

joeyb_9: joeybupdates slow your roll, I already got 2 on the way, inquire in about six months

wifeyshiesty: I.... you know what...never mind.

[sbk-zgvlt]

⚠️TWST SPOLERS ABT RIDDLE IF U CARE AFTER THE KEEP READING

Sebek and Riddle fan I always stay winning!!

I just love the duality of their dreams...Sebek's dream being something simple, just wanting Diasomnia to be happy, because that's his heart's truest desire. And he believes the way that that happiness can be pursued is just by. Continuing the party.

Then we get to Riddle's, who wants to have his family happy and whole and together again, but believes that the way to achieve that is by drastically changing everything about himself, his life, and his own parents. He has no magic. His mom is a "stay at home" wife and his dad is a novelist (NOVELIST...IDV MENTION...)

He's integrated himself into Chenya and Trey's life, wanting to be close to them. He hates studying and school. He says words from the Queendom of Roses that even Deuce doesnt want to repeat. He wants to form a band.

Im not saying that Riddle's dream is only that way because of his truest desire and not that he does want to have those things, because Riddle has got to have seen and wanted to wear that outfit of his like bro the amount of details is CRAZY

But its like. His dreams seem to be connected to the people around him as well. The rebellion, dare i say it, reminds me of Heartslabyul's freshmen. I think he sees how open they are, their carefree attitude, and subconsciously integrated it into his own desire. He thinks what makes other people happy will make him happy too.

[seongwars]

more lads dad!au because dad!zayne and dad!caleb beef would be hilarious. spinoff from this drabble

The thing about heart surgeons was that they spent years in medical school, training relentlessly to save lives. But despite Zayne’s expertise, the one thing he couldn’t mend was his four-year-old daughter’s broken heart.

“Elsa, sweetheart, why are you crying?” he asked, crouching to her level as she hiccuped between sniffles.

“Because Archer doesn’t want to be married to me anymore,” Elsa sobbed, rubbing her fists against her red-rimmed eyes. 

“He said he likes Cece.”

Oh. His heart.

His daughter was barely out of preschool, and she was already experiencing the crushing weight of betrayal. While he remained calm on the outside, Zayne was seething on the inside. How dare this boy break his daughter’s heart? Who did he think he was?

“Archer?” 

“Caleb’s son,” you chimed in from the doorway, setting Elsa’s backpack down on its hook.

Oh. It all made sense now.

There were rumors that Caleb had been Mr. Popular back in high school, then again in college, and even at the academy. The kind of guy who could walk into a room and instantly become the center of attention, effortlessly drawing in mobs of adoring fangirls. His son, apparently, had inherited those same infuriatingly charming qualities.

Zayne clenched his jaw. No one, not even another four-year-old, was going to trample on his baby’s feelings and walk away unscathed. He turned back to Elsa, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek.

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” Zayne said gently, wiping away the last of Elsa’s tears with his thumb. “You don’t need to be married to Archer. You’re the most brilliant, kind, and incredible little girl in the whole world.”

Elsa sniffled. “Really?”

“Absolutely. Now, let me ask you something: does Archer know medical terminology?”

Elsa frowned, thinking hard. “No,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Zayne gasped dramatically. “See? That right there is a red flag, sweetheart. You’re already smarter than him! Do you know how many medical words you know?”

Elsa sniffled again, but a tiny smile started forming. “A lot.”

“That’s right! And what’s the big one you learned last week?”

“Myocardial infarction!”

Zayne’s eyes widened in exaggerated amazement. “That’s incredible! Now, tell me, does Archer know what a myocardial infarction is?”

Your daughter scrunched up her nose, thinking. Then she clapped her hands. “No!”

“Sweetheart, how could you possibly be married to someone who doesn’t even know what that is?”

Elsa giggled, wiping at her damp cheeks.

“What other big words do you know?” Zayne encouraged, leaning in.

She tapped a finger against her chin before her face lit up. “Hippocampus!”

“That’s my girl!” Zayne grinned, nodding approvingly. “Anything else?”

Elsa’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Gluteus maximus!”

She giggled so hard at the meaning of gluteus maximus that she nearly toppled over, but Zayne caught her just in time, lifting her up and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Just minutes ago, she had been devastated over some preschool betrayal, and now she was giggling about medical jargon like the brilliant little girl she was.

It was far better than pining over a boy who didn’t even know what a myocardial infarction was.

☾⋆

“Hey, I saw Zayne today at drop-off, and he was squinting at me the whole time,” Caleb said, pulling Eden out of his high chair.

“Huh. Did he have his glasses on?” his wife asked, refilling Stella’s sippy cup. 

Caleb furrowed his brow. “Now that I think about it…no, he didn’t. Oh! That makes so much sense! I waved at him, like, three times, but he just kept squinting. Poor guy was probably struggling to see without them.”

Cece - Sylus' daughter Eden & Stella - Caleb's twins

[sheeple]

Part two to this. This series also has a title now: John has liked your photo! Hope you enjoy this as much as last time. Does it also show how little I know about kissing?

The second time you and John see each other in a cafe in the city centre. This time it's you who suggests meeting up. It made John feel giddy and like a schoolboy again when your text lit up his phone screen.

Your anxiousness made you way too early — as usual. But not too soon after, John appears in the cafe, also way too early. It makes you giggle.

"What is your go-to coffee order?", you ask while waiting in line, eyeing the menu and the delicious-looking pastries.

John hums, his hands clasped behind his back. "I hate to disappoint you, doll, but I'm a black coffee guy. Or tea."

Turning towards him with your eyes wide, not knowing if it is because of the nickname or the confession to drink coffee with nothing in it. "Not even some milk?"

He shakes his head with a smile. "None. If I'm in shipped out I'm happy to get a cuppa so I got used to the stuff raw."

Now you feel stupid for your usual very sweet coffee order. John sees the subtility in your face and he bumps his shoulder against yours. "Well, you are what you eat. So no wonder you're so sweet."

It makes your face heat up and you stumble over your words, not sure how to get out a response.

The line quickly moves along and John orders his black coffee and you your white chocolate mocha. Before he has time to grab his wallet, you've whipped out your phone and paid for it. You give him a daring smile while giving your name.

The two of you go sit in a quiet corner and wait for the coffee to arrive. You are telling some story about what has happened at work this week and halfway your name gets called out. John holds out his hand so you can stay put, and he grabs the order.

"Sorry, go on", he says with a smile when he returns with the coffees, placing yours in front of you with the ear facing your dominant hand.

"So", you say after finishing your story, "we haven't really talked about what we seek. You know... with dating and such." You nervously trace the rim of the glass, glancing up at the man.

John's leaning relaxed back into the chair, his legs spread wide and a comfortable smile on his face. "Gauging the vibe, doll?"

You can't help but feel your cheeks heat up again as you slink slightly down. "Maybe. Wouldn't want to waste your time if you want something completely different than me." You shrug, trying to play it cool.

That makes him lean forward a bit. "You sayin' that your time's less valuable than mine?"

That leaves you gaping like a fish. And it makes John crack a cheeky smile, showing he's teasing you.

"So do I have to worry about crazy exes or something?", he asks with a smile.

You shrug, putting your hair behind your ear. "Don't have to worry about something that's never been there", you say casually, taking a sip of your drink.

John's eyes bulge out of their sockets. Did he hear you correctly? Have you never dated anyone? How could such a wonder as you not have boys and men lined up and down the street, jumping for just a glance from you?

"Do I?", you ask timidly at his wide eyes and no response.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he clears his throat. Now is the time to come clean. "I mean... not like you have to worry about her, but there is my ex-wife."

"Wife?!" You clasp a hand over your mouth as you said that a bit too loud. "A-and for how long are you divorced? If I may ask, at least."

John smiles at your bashfulness. "Almost two years. We were married just short of a year. It was impulsive and I quickly discovered that being married to her wasn't as great as I thought it would be."

Unconsciously, you reach out and take hold of his hand. You can understand how hard it is to admit something like that to practically a stranger. "It must have been hard, going through that time in your life. Never mind the judgement of others."

He nods. "Something like that. It was more of the pitying glances of my family and their comments that got me at first. Their opinions about her and me and our relationship weren't always the kindest. But you get used to it and after a while, you get desensitized."

As you open your mouth to say something, a call of your name makes the two of you turn your heads. "Oh lord", you mumble as your aunt and cousin come walking towards the two of you.

"How are you, dear? " your aunt smiles widely, pulling you up for a hug. "I haven't seen you in a while! How's school? Oh, right. Your mum told me you quit and are working now. How do you like it? And who is this?" She turns her attention towards John.

The man dutiful stands up and offers his hand to your aunt. "John Price, ma'am."

From behind your aunt, you see your cousin lean over and mouth the words, "Who's that?", to you. "Date", you mouth back. She checks him once over and nods in appreciation.

"Oh mum, didn't you say you needed to go to that one store before it closes?", asks your cousin loudly, pulling the attention from your aunt.

"Right! It was lovely meeting you, John. See you next time, dear." Your aunt kisses both your cheeks as a goodbye before pulling her daughter behind her. You just know you'll get a text from her later on to demand the tea.

"I am so sorry", you laugh as you sit back down, hiding your face behind your hands.

John joins you and shakes his hands. "It's fine. Aunts are kinda my speciality."

"Really?"

"No", he smiles.

The rest of the afternoon goes by with smiles and laughs and good conversation until the staff has to, again like last time, kick you out and you're reluctant to say goodbye to John.

He walked to your car. It cracked him up to see the bright yellow car that lights up when you press the unlock button. Oh, how fitting of you to drive such an eyesore.

You hoover by the door, fiddling with your keys. "I had a really good time today, John." You shyly look up, your cheeks radiating heat.

John slowly inches closer, laying a hand on your cheek. "I did too." His eyes flicker between your own and your lips. You can't help but swipe your tongue over your bottom lip before taking it between your teeth.

"I desperately wanted to kiss you all day. Can I kiss you?"

Looking at him, you nod, searching for the right words. Stumbling out a 'yeah', John closes the distance and lightly presses his lips against yours.

Not knowing what to do, you lean into the kiss and close your eyes. John slides his other hand around your middle to pull you flush against his body. Your hands feel awkward so you replicate what you've seen over the years in movies and TV and place them first on his shoulders before sliding to the back of his neck.

A soft grumble comes from deep within his chest before you pull back, feeling like you are going to pass out if you don't. Either from the lack of air or your first-ever kiss.

Smiling wide, John rests his forehead against yours. "How am I to drive away from you now, doll."

You shrug, still slightly out of breath. "I'm wondering that myself." A giggle escapes you, licking your lips. "But I really have to go through... My parents are waiting for me. We're going to my grandma..."

"Those blasted parents of yours", teases John, letting go of you. "But if you have to go. Text me when you get home safe?"

You nod, opening your car door. "Will do. You too?"

John nods with a smile and watches how you drive away. Dear God. Is he crazy that he could envision the rest of his life together with you after the second date?

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

Regarding your tags on the relationships post about if you want to talk crossovers too, how do you see Varney with the Harkers too in your scenario? given among other things their feelings towards vampires and vampire-hunting humans respectively? Mina is a strange case of someone who has been one foot on both worlds, who lost someone to a vampire, but she also knows his despair and spiraling well. Jonathan has been both vampire victim and vampire killer, but only met ones he ended up hating (sans his wife). An interesting mix!

The inbox is treating me so well lately.

Varney and the Harkers is a fun dynamic because the Harkers have never before met a vampire who is just an absolute clown at vampiring. Their initial intense suspicions of him cool rapidly when he panics at Jonathan's giant knife, tries to jump out the window and fails, then nearly passes out from hunger. Once they've sat down to talk to him a bit I think they'd be sympathetic; his situation would feel like a window into what nearly happened to Mina. Far from Dracula's enthusiastic sorcery and bloodthirst, Varney is just saddled with vampirism and has to deal with it. Mina "mercy kill me if I turn" Harker would relate to how he feels.

The poor dear. He doesn't like to shed blood, he's constantly being pursued by mobs and/or dying various horrible/embarrassing deaths, he struggles to keep himself fed...being a new vampire must be so rough. Wait, what do you mean he's 500 years old.

(The Harkers, nerds that they are, would be very interested in all the stories he has to tell. Although no one is more interested in the stories than baby Quincey, who has decided the funny long man is his new favorite babysitter.)

Meanwhile Varney, who is still lowkey scared of Jonathan due to a) him clocking Varney as a vampire on sight and b) the giant knife, doesn't want to impose on this set of young parents, no really you do NOT have to offer me blood I'll be fine I can stand [nearly falls over again]

...too late, pal, you've activated the Harker pack bonding instincts. They WILL offer you their guest room after a brief misunderstanding where they debate for 5 minutes about how to obtain proper grave soil while you attempt to explain that you would rather sleep in a bed. And then the next thing you know you're friends with all their friends and you babysit their child twice a week and they're inviting you over for Christmas dinner.

Varney can try to run away from his fate but the next angry mob will coincidentally wash him up on their doorstep again, and the final straw will be learning how much Quincey missed him while he was gone.

(He's conflicted. He remembers killing his own son, or he thinks he does. How can he be trusted around this boy? ...How can he bear to disappoint him?)

And that's how Varney becomes an uncle!

[anomaliex]

Collection of headcanons not elaborate enough for own word vomit post:

- I don't think Kristen can swim. She has the vibes of someone who never learned as a kid and now it's too late to bring up without being embarrassed. (Also I thought about what would happen if she fell in water — mechanically she's wearing heavy armor, would Brennan just let her swim since she's in universe only in a tracksuit or would she sink without a sufficient strength check? Idk, but that's how I got to the no swimming conclusion.)

- insanely weird hc to have but i think Fabian shaves his arm hair. Also like legs and arm pits i guess but the way more unusual and therefore notable thing is arms. This guy kills any body and facial hair on sight. Like no one has ever seen him with as much as stubble outside of Cathilda or the Bad Kids when they were sleeping over. Why? Idk he just prefers that, no deeper reason. I do think elves generally have less body hair but here his human genes come through so he has to shave. Or get it lasered away I guess. You can do that right?? He's rich. Maybe he'd do it.

- also Fabian's depth perception is dog shit. Using his crossbow is less impressive because Fandrangor is simply a better weapon and his flourishes and manoeuvres rely on melee combat, I know, but to me it's also just that he's better at hitting things real close to him.

- Riz is the kinda guy to have chronic migraines and think it's fine. "Everyone has headaches sometimes and I do sleep a lot less than I should ahaha" (the amount of coffee he drinks is barely saving him from the horrors.)

- Adaine also gets a lot of migraines in what I think are more. Passive non specific visions? Like a gut feeling that's always correct and also makes her body hate her. The proper visions are comparable to absence seizures I think? Like I don't wanna say it's that because it's magic but the process is kind of the same in the sense that she's out for like ten to thirty seconds and it can really suck

- I also think Adaine has synaesthesia! I can't really put this into words well so I'm not even gonna try, but she perceives certain sounds and/or colours at times where there shouldn't be sounds and/or colours. I think those associations also to an extend help in drawing connections between less specific visions and real life.

- we know Gorgug has a drumset in his room I think it's electronic. But like not in a normal way like we have them irl it's some insane artificer shit that would justify so much more noise complaints than a regular one and also could probably have its own pyrotechnics idfk. It's fully a safety hazard but it doesn't even rank on the top 10 of worst things to have in your house that is a TREE that the Thistlesprings casually own.

- I think either Fig or Kristen would be the shortest medium creature type Bad Kid. Like obviously Riz is four feet tall max but he's in a whole different category lmao

- Fig sometimes puts little braids in Jawbone's fur and he happily lets her. He only properly adopted Adaine and Fig has more than enough dads, but he does still act as sort of a paternal figure to her (and every other kid ((which in this case includes Ragh but maybe not Aelwyn)) in mordred manor because he's just a caring guy and it's hard not to grow attached) so that's their pseudo daddy-daughter bonding

- Fabian doesn't like, hate Gilear as much as he used to? Like he still has his moments but overall he thinks he's a good guy and absolutely has the "well I can shit on him but I'm gonna kill this other guy who did. How dare you make fun of my Mama's beloved??" mindset. But uhm he tries to make Gilear work out with him so he can "stop being death fodder". Gilear is a commoner and everyone else in Seacaster Manor absolutely is not and like he likes it and he loves these people but he does kind of live in hell. His wife? Could kill him. His step son? Could kill him. The maid? Could kill him. The dog slash motor cycle?? Could kill him. One hit. Also the entire current Seacaster household are dexterity based fighters they're all so graceful and skilled he's fully just a guy that spills every drink ever on himself

- I think the Hangman loves Cathilda because she gives good chin scritchies (hound form obviously lol) Generally he tends to mirror Fabian's attitude towards people anyway so he's always liked her, but once he started being a hound more she started petting him and giving him treats and he is smitten

- Gorgug (and sometimes Ragh or Ayda) play extreme fetch with the Hangman. Like I need to stress that he's not just a big dog he's large enough to be a mount, which means he'd have to be the size of a horse. Maybe a small horse sure but that's still a horse-sized dog. I think his mini looks fairly big but in my heart he's bigger. So yeah fetch with him (which they mainly do because they want him to feel comfortable in both forms because he's so good) is really big sticks. Like not logs or anything but sticks the average person can't huck all that far. Fabian casts enhance ability on himself so he can also do it, lol. The wonders of multiclassing into bard.

- I think the only Bad Kids who never use makeup are Riz and Kristen. Gorgug doesn't do it every day and not that much but he uses eyeliner sometimes. Fig's makeup is the most noticeable and usually very fun.

- Gorgug has kissed Ragh at least twice. So at least one time after the prom thing. I don't mean this in a ship way I mean this in I look at Gorgug and then I look at Ragh and I go yeah these guys have shared at least one tender bro kiss. I mean I think Gorgug is the kinda guy that would kiss all of his friends if they wanted to because it's not that big of a deal to him and he loves them but not everyone is comfortable w/ that lol. He and Kristen kiss each other on the cheek though, I think (this does not mean he wants to see her naked in public please put your clothes back on Kristen??)

[umathurwin]

Omg hi! I feel like I’m the only sofia hater out there bc all i see are people loving her character is so boring to me and her and rafe relationship seems so forced to me like she is supposed to help him reconcile with his sister but instead, she spent all season doing nothing apart from the hollis plot

being called a sofia hater cracks me up because i feel like i never talk about her, in fact i usually forget she exists 😭 but i’ll accept it, because i really do hate the way her character (which had a great premise) was totally wasted

a youtuber i really love once described pansy parkinson from harry potter as “an original character wearing the skin of a minor character” and i think that perfectly encapsulates sofia. they make these moodboards, these stories, these elaborate headcanons about a character we know little to nothing about. do i respect it? hell yes. it takes a lot of work. but to have these intense convictions and arguments about a 0.5-dimensional character… WHY?

i went and rewatched every scene in s4 where she even just appears and wrote down my thoughts on them (despite how tedious this was… the action really does rely on the pogues) and like… wow. where do i start

her s4 introduction is the scene where rafe scatters ward’s ashes on the boat, and it’s awkward but in a fair way. i wouldn’t really know what to do either. in the same episode, she’s at the enduro cheering for rafe, but she is inexplicably standing TOTALLY by herself. i still have no idea if this was just filmed oddly or if it was deliberate but this photo kills me… girl why are you alone? at no other point is she physically excluded from the kooks like this. wtf

and after that? nearly every single moment she and rafe share the screen? he’s awful to her. he verbally mocks her in the bar when she tries to calm him down. he flirts with hollis right in sofia’s face and abases her for feeling hurt. he dismisses her every time she tries to express her opinion. rafe does not respect his girlfriend, nor does he care about her thoughts and values. how do i know?

because she knows. how exactly did she convince him to take the deal, again? well, first she says she thinks it’s a good idea, which merely amuses him. then, she makes up a lie about other club members denigrating rafe and how this deal could improve his social status—i believe this to be a fabrication because it easily could’ve and should’ve been explicit on screen if true— and this causes him make up his mind. she knows rafe’s insecurities. she knows what does and doesn’t entice him. and yeah, i’ll be honest, sometimes it makes me sick to think about how deeply she knows this man, and how little he knows/cares about her

rafe brings up marriage, living together, a future with sofia. but do you notice anything about his big grand speeches? ever notice how, when he’s describing his fantasy, it revolves around material things he can own and show off— and sofia has always been one of them? rafe never has anything to say about what she specifically does for him, what he likes about her. bc… what does he like about her? rafe is unfortunately, at the end of the day, selfish. he focuses on what he’ll be able to give her, and what having a pretty wife says about him. the occupant of that role is, well, interchangeable

when rafe “proposed” to her and she did not confess the scam, i knew it was over. this is rafe cameron we’re talking about, a man who values loyalty more than anything in the world, and that was her last shot at coming clean before it was too late. committing a betrayal (well…in the eyes of the narrative…more on that in a sec) and hiding it from him? guys there was zero chance of him learning the truth and forgiving her. i watched the premier with my mother and i even turned to her and said we just watched the final nail go into the coffin. and it did!

(also, not to beat a dead horse, but even after he gives her the ring and he leaves to morocco, he dismissively excludes her again! “i have to go” “what are you doing?” “don’t worry about it, bye!” and she just takes it?! STAND UP!)

fundamentally, sofia’s “betrayal” plotline was weak or, at the very least, not very well thought-out. it’s like the idea of sofia going behind rafe’s back was pitched, but they were unsure how to integrate that into the season. the explosive reaction that rafe had when groff revealed the plot seemed contrived, like the show wanted to put more of the blame on sofia than was warranted. rafe had all but made up his mind by the time sofia had been paid off; to claim that she was the big catalyst in his decision is unfair and literally just wrong. sure, he liked her giving her blessing (because he already wanted to say yes), but i have a really, really genuine question for all of you.

if she had said no, would he have called off the deal?

(spoiler, no. because when she changed her mind after learning of the scam, he dismissed her yet again. the show has countless opportunities for rafe to just care about his girlfriend, and he never takes them!)

while i’m nitpicking, she also never learns any information via her own efforts. every single time she uncovers a new detail, it’s because she’s working around a loud-mouth kook who coincidentally says the right thing at the right moment as she refills their ewers. fuck, can we give her a CRUMB of agency? please?

and yeah, i don’t even engage in any theory that sofia helped rafe reunite with his family. did she ever give any meaningful advice to him? she didn’t even have context—was he ever planning on telling her exactly what he’d done to sarah and her friends? could sarah even pick this girl out of a lineup?! ya, she really is the glue in the cameron dynamic. lol

counter arguments i’m ready to address:

“he takes the deal for her!” funny because,,, he really doesn’t. we even watch the reason he takes the deal— his family. rafe likes the opportunity from the jump but is hesitant because of the investment, and a dreamy montage of him, ward, and sarah is what cements his decision. sofia canonically had nothing to do with it

“but he says he’s taking the deal for him and sofia when he’s alone with hollis!” correct! but you’ll notice he literally only brings her up when hollis starts hitting on him. he’s not attracted to hollis, and her advances make him visibly uncomfortable. bringing up sofia was a way to shut down hollis without explicitly telling a business partner to get off his ass

“rafe brings up sofia’s opinion of the deal with groff!” true, but i actually see this as a display of rafe’s tact and emotional intelligence. rafe is suspicious that he’s been scammed, but it’s genuinely not wise to barge into the office of the man who has $400k of your money and your testicles in his fist to start threatening him— even when he’s not a murderer. “hey… so my gf thinks you’re scamming me… thoughts?” he’s being coy. he’s being smart. he’s not bringing up sofia in a loverboy context. cmon

***

deep inhale. okay, i’m done. i’m sorry i always forget about her. but it’s so much better than the alternative

[cntloup]

toji x fem!reader

angst, bold italics indicate flashbacks, parenthesis are the character's thoughts

this pic of him makes me sooo 😵‍💫🥵

if anyone knows the artist, please let me know 🙏🫶

it's a saturday night and you've been invited to a ball tonight by your close friend, shiu.

you thought what would be better than to unwind with some friends after a long week. what you didn't think would happen was to see him.

you mentally curse shiu for not mentioning anything about him coming here. you thought it was a given that he wouldn't invite both of you.

you spent months crying, trying to get over that guy. and now, he's standing right in front of you, looking dashing as ever, in a suit no less.

you suddenly feel nauseous, as if all the emotions you thought were gone kept rushing back to you.

"you'll have to excuse me..." you mutter lowly to shiu who was just about to introduce you to some clients as you ignore him calling out your name and quickly walk out of the venue, mustering all your power to keep yourself from having a full-blown breakdown in the middle of the room.

as soon as you walk out the door, you break into uncontrollable sobs and start hyperventilating, clutching your chest in a desperate attempt to calm your pounding heart.

"hey... you ok?" suddenly, the world stops... and there's only that voice, the one you know all too well and haven't heard in over a year.

"the hell does that mean?!" he barks at you, his blood boiling as pure rage fills the hollow shell of suppressed emotions, trying to bury the bitter taste of heartbreak.

"I've tried, toji. I really have, to make it work. but I don't feel like you love me. you say you do, but they're just words. I feel like I'm just a maid. and a mom to megs. I don't feel loved for me. I don't feel like myself anymore..."

you let out a gasp and your head turns around as if on autopilot until your eyes meet his.

his already concerned expression softens even further as soon as he witnesses your disheveled look, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks which he has caused.

he feels the gnawing grasp of guilt in his heart for hurting you like this, all the memories of him in the past year coming back to him, how he was absolutely and completely shattered to pieces over your breakup. and now he can only imagine how it must have been for you.

he was an absolute wreck after you; always beating himself up over pushing you away so much to the point that you doubted his love, ('how did we end up like this?') he kept drinking his sorrow away until he blacked out every night and gambled all his money away even more so than usual without a care which shiu noticed and toji figures now that must have been the reason why he invited both of you.

you were his everything. you proved him wrong when he thought he was done with love after the death of his wife. you dragged him out of the pit of despair and held him through the turmoil, in your loving embrace which became his home.

the silence weighs heavy on your chest, thick tension filling the room as the leaden weight of the words that have just been uttered settles in your heart, and his.

"y-you're leaving?" his quivering voice is laced with a bleak desperation, as if trying to grasp at even a sliver of hope that this is not happening, his worst nightmare.

"goodbye, toji." you swallow the lump in your throat, 'I will always love you...' the words play out in your mind, but they never leave your mouth.

"what are you doing here?" you wipe the tears furiously with your hands as you think he shouldn't see you like this, ('please hold me')

"I could ask the same thing." he takes a step closer to you, carefully as if not to scare you away, ('still love you...')

"fuckin' shiu..." you shake your head, ('can't live without you')

he chuckles dryly, ('take me back please... i promise to be better... for you, i will')

you both stand there, staring into each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling yourself nearly getting lost in his eyes, before sensing a surge of emotions rushing into you and overwhelming your heart, causing you to avert your gaze from him and mumble a quiet 'I need to go' and quickly make your way towards your car before he has any time to react, ('please stay! curse me, hit me, anything! just please, stay!') still shocked by seeing you after so long when he thought he was over you. what a fool.

oh, how you wish you could have stayed. how you wish he wouldn't have let you go in the first place. and how you wish you had the heart to let it all out instead of just leaving...

you notice him running after you in the rear-view mirror, but you know it's too late now as you drive away with tears in your eyes, your loud sobs mixing with the roars of the heavy metal music playing in the car.

[swtt4hk]

Sang-woo finds out that you’re pregnant {Fluff}(Oneshot)

requested by: @daeholuvs

it was a normal morning…not for you though. You have been feeling really sick lately and it has worried your husband , Cho Sang-woo , a lot. He has suggested you went to the doctor or even taking some days off work to take care of you which was unusual of him since he’s a workaholic. You really appreciated his care and love for you but you kept telling him that you’re okay and it’s gonna go away soon…

…but it hasn’t. You knew that something’s wrong but you couldn’t possibly tell Sang-woo because it was gonna worry him more and get distracted from work.

today you woke up feeling extremely exhausted, with a sharp pain in your stomach and you felt nauseous. That’s when you realised. You were late on your period too but you thought it was just a coincidence but now…it can’t all be just a coincidence.

—are you sure you’re gonna be fine? You look exhausted, honey.

Sang-woo says with a worried look

—don’t worry , sweetheart, I’m gonna be just fine , I’ll drink some tea and take some medicine and I’ll be as right as rain immediately!

You say with a reassuring smile as you’re caressing his cheek. Sang-woo sighs and gives in.

—if you say so…but call me if anything happens to you , please don’t hesitate, alright?

—okay baby I will…now go , you’ll be late!

You and Sang-woo share one last kiss before he leaves for work. As soon as he leaves , you decide to take action. You get ready and go to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test.

positive.

you look at it with tears in your eyes. You don’t know if they’re happy tears or tears of frustration. “How is Sang-woo going to react?” is the only thought in your head right now.

“call me if anything happens to you , don’t hesitate.”

you keep rethinking his words. You don’t know if you should call him or keep it a secret. Which would be the best choice to make?

you decided to keep it a secret , just for a while. Keeping your pregnancy a secret from your husband wouldn’t hurt…right?

Your morning sicknesses have been getting worse and it worries Sang-woo so much. He keeps trying to convince you for him to take some days off to take care of you or for him to help you with the chores but you’re playing tough and immediately turn them down. He can’t lie , he has noticed you gaining a little bit of weight recently but his mind doesn’t go to pregnancy and of course he doesn’t mention your weight gain because he knows that you’re insecure and that it would be rude of him to tell you something like that. (He’s such a gentleman hehhehehe😍🙏😜)

it has been about a month and a half since you found out that you’re pregnant. You still have your doubts about telling Sang-woo but you can’t keep lying to him that you’re okay. You finally take the courage to tell him after he comes home from work. You prepare his favourite meal , tidy the house and wait for him to return.

The clock strikes 6:00. It’s time. The door slowly open , revealing the familiar figure of Sang-woo.

—honey , I’m back!

He walks to the kitchen and see’s his favourite meal on the table and you , sitting there and , in his eyes , looking beautiful as ever.

—hey baby…how was work?

You give him a kiss and you both sit on the table.

—does it matter? Right now , I’m home , with my amazing wife who has once again made a delicious meal for me…I really don’t deserve you.

You blush but also feel guilt on the inside. How could you lie to such an innocent and kind human being?

—um Sang-woo I would like to talk to you about something—

he gets up as your talking and interrupts you by leaning over you and kissing you. As you’re both melting into each other’s lips he wraps his hands around your waist and they go down to your stomach but feels something weird…this is not the stomach he’s used to touching…it’s…round? He freezes. You realise where his hands have gone to and you freeze too. You pull out of the kiss and look at him with an anxious look.

—honey…

A tear rolls down his cheek.

—y/n…

You caress his cheek as your eyes tear up.

—I’m sorry…

—don’t apologise my love…it’s okay…but you should’ve told me sooner , do you know how worried I was?

—I know I know , I’m sorry…

Sang-woo wipes his tears and smiles. He places his hand on top of your belly and caresses it with his thumb.

—you’re gonna be a great mom…

You try to fight your tears back. You feel so happy but so sad that you didn’t tell him earlier. You blush at the compliment and a wide smile forms on your face.

—and you’re gonna be a great dad , Sang-woo…

—I love you , my wife and mother of our kids.

—I love you more , my husband and father of our kids.

———————————————————————

the end! I almost cried writing this but definitely enjoyed writing it! Special thanks to @daeholuvs for requesting this! More fics soon!

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.

[smilingformoney]

Die With a Smile

Chapter V. The Escape

Summary: Elliott and Mary make their escape, but they're not out of the woods yet.

AN: someone stop me I'm out of control, how is this chapter 10k words? PLEASE leave comments my friends, I didn't get any on the last chapter so it kind of feels like I'm shouting into the void 😢

CW: RAPE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

As the carriage made its way through the streets of London, Elliott took Mary’s hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’re doing the right thing, Mary,” he said softly.

“He’s going to be so angry,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “What if he follows us?”

“He won’t. He knows we’re going away. As far as he’s aware, you’ll be back on Saturday. By the time he realises anything’s amiss, we’ll be married and there’ll be nothing he can do. Not even the great Judge Turpin.”

Mary sighed and shook her head. How had her life come to this?

Sensing her hesitation, Elliott put an arm around her and let her lean her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head comfortingly.

“Just you wait, Mary. Soon enough we’ll be out of London and in the country. Aren’t you excited to see it all?”

“Oh, yes!” Mary nodded enthusiastically. She looked up at him with those big doe eyes of hers. “Will you really teach me to ride a horse?”

“Of course I will. You’ll be a natural, I’m sure of it. Just as you’re a natural at everything else I’ve taught you. Reading, sucking cock…”

“Elliott!”

Mary blushed, glancing over at Tommy who was asleep next to her, but Elliott just laughed as he leant down to kiss her neck.

“What? Don’t worry, he’s fast asleep. He’ll have no idea that his big sister’s a natural cocksucker.”

Mary squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as Elliott continued kissing her. She could hear Turpin’s voice ringing in her ears. Who taught you to do this, hm? Or are you just a natural?

“Elliott, I… I should tell you something.”

“Hm?” Elliott hummed, though he kept kissing her.

“When Lord Turpin called me in to see him after court yesterday, he… that is, we… well, I… did that. With him.”

Elliott froze. He pulled away from where he’d been kissing her neck, took back the arm that was around her shoulders, and Mary daren’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “He - he asked me to kiss him as a thank you for letting me stay, so I did and - and he showed me he was erect and told me I had to do something about it. So I… used my mouth.”

Elliott was silent for a long moment. Then, he thumped the side of the carriage and swore loudly, making Mary jump.

“I’m so sorry, Elliott —”

“Don’t be. It’s him I’m angry at. Fucking cad. No wonder he proposed last night, he was probably thinking with his dick. I told you he only proposed because he wants to fuck you.”

Mary nodded glumly. “I think you’re right. When we went for that walk on Saturday, he told me he didn’t want a wife. He made it sound like being married is a chore. And the only thing that happened since then that might have changed his mind was - well - that.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I was so stupid to think he might…”

“Mary, you are not stupid,” Elliott said firmly, taking her hands in his. “I meant what I said, you really did pick up letters quickly - and, yes, the other things I taught you too. I mean, look what you did! It was you that connected Barker to that man’s disappearance, it was you that found out what he was up to. I’m sure my cousin will spend all week telling his important friends how he sent a serial killer to the gallows, but it wasn’t him, it was you.”

Mary sniffed and wiped a tear on the back of her sleeve. “I must be a little bit stupid. I didn’t realise you wanted me.”

“Of course I want you, silly girl,” Elliott said endearingly. He put his arm around her again and held her close. “I’d have to be stupid not to.”

Mary smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, cuddling him as tight as she could.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in for, then. Because I’m going to be the best wife for you, Elliott, you’ll see.”

Elliott chuckled and kissed her forehead.

“Good. I’m counting on it.”

- - -

Once the carriage had left the outskirts of London and was driving past the rolling fields of the English countryside, Mary’s mood lifted, as if the thick, smog-filled air of London had been weighing her down. She watched, wide-eyed, as the fields passed by the window, pointing out all the sights she saw and asking Elliott to identify the animals. Cows, sheep and horses were an everyday sight for him, but somehow Mary had a way of making them seem exciting and new.

By the time they came to approach the estate in Sussex, Tommy had woken up, and he and Mary were entertaining themselves with games they’d clearly invented together over the years. Elliott watched them with a smile on his face and an arm around Mary’s waist.

It was all so easy, he thought. He’d known these two street urchins less than a week, and already he felt so comfortable with them, he could almost trick himself into believing Mary was his wife and Tommy their son. When he closed his eyes at night, he imagined he was back home, with Mary by his side. He could see himself waking up next to her in his bed, making love sleepily before starting their day. They’d eat breakfast on the porch, watching the workers start their routines. Elliott might work on his ledgers while Mary made him a hat, or else he’d teach her to ride a horse, or take her out to meet a flock of his sheep.

Sometimes Elliott wondered if he might have been born on the wrong continent and he was better suited for America. One thing was for certain, though: Mary wasn’t meant to live on the streets of London. She was designed for the open air, to care for the animals Elliott kept, to care for him and the children they might have one day.

That was perhaps what angered him most at the thought of her marrying Turpin. He could accept her marrying someone else if he knew she’d be happy, but Mary, so wide-eyed and eager to see everything the world has to offer - she deserved more than to be trapped in a stuffy old house in London. No matter what promises Turpin made, unless he moved away from London - which Elliott knew would never happen - then Mary could never be truly happy with him.

“Elliott, look, we’re here!” Mary exclaimed, pointing out the window as the carriage passed through the gates to Ivy Manor, the home of Duke Beaumont, Elliott’s mother’s brother. He’d never met the man, but they’d written often ever since Elliott’s mother had died, and the trip to England was as much to visit him as it was to visit Turpin.

“Are you sure he won’t mind that we’re early?” Mary fretted. “What if he doesn’t have space and food enough for us?”

Elliott rubbed her back reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s a wealthy man, and he’s been begging me to visit for years. I’m sure he won’t mind if we arrive a day earlier than planned.”

“Alright,” Mary conceded, though she fiddled with her skirt anxiously. Elliott laid a hand over hers to still her movements. She looked up at him and smiled shyly. “Thank you for inviting us, Elliott.”

“Oh, please. I knew from the day we went to Camden together there was no way I’d be leaving London without you.”

“Wow, look, Molly! This place is huge!” Tommy gasped, his head sticking out the window.

“Tommy! Don’t stick your head out the window!” Mary admonished her little brother, but Elliott just laughed.

“He’s eagar to get out of this bloody carriage, I expect. I certainly am. My arse is sore, even with the cushions.”

Mary peered out the window - without sticking her head out completely like Tommy had - and she too was shocked at how large the Beaumont estate was. It seemed to go on for ages, and though the driveway seemed a mile long, the grand mansion at the end of it was clearly visible, watching over its surrounding lands.

The carriage eventually pulled up at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. Their arrival had been seen in the distance, so even with the unexpectedness of their arrival, the Duke had plenty of time to send a servant down to greet them.

“Welcome to Ivy Manor,” said the servant with a bow. “Duke Beaumont extends his gratitude for your visit. Whom shall I say is calling?”

“Elliott Marston. He’s expecting me, though I’m a day early.”

“Very good, sir. As it happens, His Grace already had your rooms prepared. Come, let us take care of your bags; I’ll show you inside.”

Mary slipped her hand into the crook of Elliott’s elbow as they followed the servant into the manor house, through the extravagant entrance hall, and into a room furnished with several tables, more books on shelves than Mary had ever seen, and several sofas and armchairs gathered around a fireplace.

The servant offered seats to them all, and Mary sat next to Tommy on a sofa, while Elliott took a nearby armchair. As they waited to be greeted by the Duke, they were offered drinks, and a maid poured them each some tea.

“This is so fancy,” Tommy whispered to Mary.

Mary hushed him, but giggled. It was all rather strange. She’d never seen a place so large, or so fancy that even the servants seemed to be dressed nice. She and Tommy had bathed and put on clean clothes that morning, but still Mary wondered if they stuck out like a couple of street-dwelling sore thumbs.

“Elliott! Are you trying to confuse an old man?” a voice, booming but jovial, called across the room. “I read a letter to say you’re coming tomorrow only to hear not an hour later you’ve already arrived!”

Elliott stood and crossed the room with a grin to greet his uncle.

“Uncle Rupert. How good to finally see you.”

The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, then Mary quickly stood and curtsied when Elliott led his uncle over to the fireside. She nudged Tommy with her foot to encourage him to stand up too.

“Ah, and this must be the, uh… friend, am I right?” said the Duke with a twinkle in his eye.

“Another slight change in circumstance since I wrote,” Elliott admitted. “Mary and I are engaged.”

“Ha! Couldn’t wait to pop the question, eh, lad? Well, I can’t blame you. A very charming young lady. A pleasure to meet you, Miss - forgive an old man his poor memory. What was your family name, dear?”

“Taylor, your Grace,” Mary said with a curtsey. “Mary Taylor. This is my brother, Tommy.”

“Um - hello, sir,” said Tommy with an awkward attempt at a bow.

Duke Beaumont looked between the two siblings with a curious smile. “Tommy, eh? Not Thomas?”

“Just Tommy, sir,” the young boy squeaked.

“Well, welcome, both of you! Once you’re married, you’ll be my niece and nephew as good as if you always were. When is the happy day, have we decided yet?”

“Actually, I had hoped to discuss that with you, Uncle. Perhaps Mary and Tommy could be shown to their rooms?”

Mary wanted to stay with Elliott, but he insisted on talking to his uncle alone. He didn’t want her to have to sit and listen to him tell another man about her life, and he certainly didn’t want Tommy to hear the detail of it all.

“What’s going on, then, lad? Why the sudden urgency to come here?” Duke Beaumont asked when they were finally alone and a servant had served them both a whisky. “Your letter said you hoped to propose here and marry within months.”

“My cousin happened,” Elliott replied, the bitterness evident in his voice. “He proposed to her yesterday afternoon, while I was at the Post Office sending my letter off to you.”

“Ah, I see. And she said no?”

“Well… she had no idea I was planning to propose. She has a great deal of respect and affection for my cousin - more than he deserves - and a proposal from a Lord isn’t something a woman of her station can readily turn down. She had every reason to accept his hand. Until, that was, I - rather selfishly, I suppose - told her my intentions. She was devastated. She wants to marry me, but she can’t simply renege on her promise. Unless, of course… she’s already married.”

“I see,” said the Duke, nodding thoughtfully. “So you want to marry before your cousin finds out?”

“Yes. He plans to marry her Monday. She’s supposed to return to London on Saturday. We must be married by then. Would you help us, Uncle? I know arranging a wedding at such short notice is a great ask, and I’ll cover any expense —”

“Nonsense!” the Duke barked. “Wedding planning is one of my wife’s favourite hobbies. She planned all the family weddings, and I’m sure she’ll be ready to spring into action once the rest of them get engaged. Two days to plan a wedding will be a thrilling challenge for her. And don’t you go harping on about expenses, dear boy. If you must feel guilt about the cost, think of it as a gift from me to your mother. I never saw Caroline again after she ran away to Australia to be with your father �� I’m certain she’d fully support young Mary doing the same. Although, I must say —” The Duke leaned forward conspiratorially. “She is quite young.”

“I thought it was impolite to ask after a woman’s age?” Elliott said shortly.

The Duke let out a booming laugh. “Oh, yes, so it is! Forgive me. Well, quite. Let me speak to my wife. At such short notice the guest list might be rather small, but then again, one should never underestimate my wife’s ability to plan a party, or any nobleman’s willingness to shirk responsibility for an opportunity to eat my food and drink my wine. Does Miss Taylor have any family she’d want to invite?”

“Just the brother.”

“I see.” Duke Beaumont stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Taylor, hm? Rather, uh… occupational, isn’t it?”

“She’s a seamstress.”

“Ah! I see. So when you say you met her in the tailor’s shop —”

“I love her.”

Elliott froze, shocked at his own words, at how easily they’d slipped out. He cleared his throat, then said, “I don’t care how low her birth is, Uncle. I love her.”

Duke Beaumont smiled knowingly. “Of course you do, lad. You know, you’re just like your mother. Never heard of a nobleman called Marston, have you? Your father’s family were mere merchants, and your mother loved him all the better for it. Now look at you! Owning half of Australia, by the sounds of it! And I’m sure that lovely young wife of yours will make sure the name Marston holds great esteem in Australia for generations. Now, enough chit-chat, I’m sure you’ll want to see your room and I must deliver the exciting news to your Aunt Henrietta. Soon enough this place will be abuzz with excitement for your upcoming nuptials!”

- - -

Looking into the mirror, Mary hardly recognised the woman looking back at her. Her hair was clean and tidy, and she’d taken in her borrowed - now stolen, she supposed - dress to fit her properly. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to this, having access to clean water for washing, clean clothes that fit, and toothpaste to keep her mouth clean. She’d been able to wash herself fairly regularly thanks to Mrs Harris - an apprentice that smelt like the streets wasn’t great for business - but nothing like this. Mrs Harris had kept Mary clean enough to not stink; but these days, she smelt good.

Mary turned slightly to examine her body in the mirror. She’d put on a little weight, she was sure of it. Not a lot, but enough that she hadn’t had to take the dress in as much as she’d expected.

A maid knocked on the door and was apparently surprised to see that Mary had dressed herself. Instead, the girl sat Mary down at the vanity, and insisted she style her hair for her. Usually, Mary wore her hair quite simply, keeping it out of her face with braids so she could work without her hair falling into her face, but otherwise she didn’t style it or put it up as seemed to be the fashion lately. The maid knew nothing of Mary’s usual styling, so she took it upon herself to give her a more elaborate, embellished hairstyle.

When she was finished, Mary really didn’t recognise herself in the mirror. She felt like she was looking at another Mary in another world, one where she’d slept every night of her life in a warm bed and didn’t know what a rat tasted like to eat or the numbness of being wet and cold after hours of rain and nowhere to shelter.

“I almost didn’t recognise you,” Elliott murmured to her when he took a seat next to her at the breakfast table. “You look like you belong here.”

Mary rubbed her neck self-consciously. She felt so exposed with her hair all on her head and leaving her neck bare.

“I don’t feel it,” she admitted.

“Well, you’re by my side, so you must be where you belong.”

Mary giggled. “Elliott, stop it!”

“Merely stating facts, sweetheart,” Elliott said with a wink.

They’d had dinner with Duke Beaumont’s family the night before, so Mary at least didn’t feel she was entirely surrounded by strangers. Mary had noticed quite quickly when introductions were made before dinner that there were a lot of women in the house. Duke Beaumont, it transpired, had three daughters and no sons, and although each daughter was married, they still lived in the family home - it was, after all, more than large enough for even dozens of people to live without feeling crowded. Two daughters had a daughter of their own, one had two sons, and the Duke’s older sister, who’d never married, lived at home too.

Although Mary hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to everybody, those she had spoken to at dinner and afterwards had been nothing but welcoming and kind. Then again, Mary thought back to the reflection she’d met in the mirror that morning — she gave no sign that she was as far removed in class from the Beaumont family as she could possibly be.

Tommy had had something of a makeover too. His hair had been washed and even trimmed, and someone must have had some children’s clothes stashed somewhere, because he was wearing a shirt and waistcoat Mary had never seen on him, clean and perhaps even new.

Still, though they looked the part, and though everybody was lovely, Mary couldn’t help feeling like an imposter. She was terrified that she might do or say the wrong thing and give away her station, and she’d be sent back to London where she belonged.

If someone was going to accuse her of being a commoner, it wasn’t to be at breakfast. Once the plates were cleared and everyone began dispersing to go about their days, Elliott took Mary by the hand and led her away, giving her only a cheeky smirk when she asked where they were going.

He took her outside and, despite her begging him to tell her where they were going, he kept mum until he led her into an outbuilding and she saw, standing in individual stalls…

“Horses!” Mary gasped. “Oh, Elliott, look at them! They’re beautiful!”

“I do miss riding,” Elliott admitted as he approached a nearby horse and offered it some grain in exchange for a pat. “Galloping across my land, with the clear air and open space… there’s nothing quite like it. It’s the very opposite of London.”

“It must feel so freeing,” Mary sighed dreamily. She approached the horse Elliott was patting with a cautious admiration. “I can’t wait to see Australia with you, Elliott. You make it sound so wonderful. And for so much land to be yours!”

Elliott smiled with pride. “I love it there. You know, I’ve thought in the past about moving to America. But I’d have to sell my land, start afresh… and after this trip, I’m not sure I could bear to do that. Australia’s my home. I’d hate not to go back.”

There was a softness in the way he spoke so tenderly about his homeland, a vulnerability that Mary hadn’t seen in him before. It almost sounded as if he were talking about a person he loved.

She put an arm around his waist. Elliott blinked, surprised — she never initiated contact between them. It was always him who touched her, inviting her touch back. He never saw it as a reluctance to touch him, but simply as if she were always waiting for permission. But now, her arm was around him, her eyes gazing up at him adoringly.

“You know, I think you might be the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

It was the closest thing to a declaration of love Mary had ever said, and certainly the closest Elliott had heard said to him in a very long time. He grinned, and the horse whinnied in protest when Elliott pulled his hand away to instead stroke Mary’s face with a gentleness he hadn’t known he had.

“There’s no might about it for me, Mary. I know you’re the sweetest, kindest, bravest woman I’ve ever known. You deserve so much more than the hand you’ve been dealt. I can only hope I can give you a fraction of what you truly deserve.”

“I didn’t realise we were doing our wedding vows now,” Mary giggled. “Is this horse ordained, do you think?”

Elliott laughed. He kissed Mary on the forehead, then said to the horse, “What do you think, Reggie? Do you pronounce us man and wife?”

The horse whinnied, undoubtedly in response to its name, but that was good enough.

“I believe that means you may kiss the bride.”

“Oh, so you speak horse, do you?”

“I do, and he’s quite insistent that we kiss.”

“Well, alright, then. I wouldn’t want to upset Pastor Reggie.”

Mary leant up on her tip-toes to kiss Elliott, who wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he kissed her back. For a few moments they stayed like that, wrapped up in one another, the world outside their little bubble suddenly disappearing as they kissed, and it was only when Elliott felt his cock twitching that he reluctantly pulled away. As much as he wanted to bend her over a hay bale, he’d promised to wait, and Elliott Marston was a man of his word.

Besides, he’d already spilled his seed down her throat that morning, and as happy as he’d be to do it again, he’d brought Mary to the stables with something else in mind.

“So are you ready to learn to ride?”

- - -

Every day that Mary spent with Elliott seemed to be more wonderful than the last, but this was most certainly the best one yet. They spent hours out with the horses, Elliott most evidently in his element out in the open air on horseback. He seemed so much more comfortable here than he ever had in London, and although Mary did well to learn to ride on her own, there was no way she could keep up with Elliott as he galloped around the manor grounds.

“You don’t need to show off, you know, I already like you,” Mary teased when Elliott finally brought the horse to a stop next to her. Elliott just winked at her, dared her to a race back to the stable, and set off before Mary had a chance to respond.

“Hey, no fair!” she laughed as she quickly followed him, riding as fast as she could to try and catch up, but there was no beating a master. Elliott was already closing the stall door by the time Mary brought her horse into the stable.

“That was cheating, Elliott, I demand a rematch!”

“Tomorrow, sweetheart, I think we’ve worn these two out.”

Elliott helped Mary down from her horse, and she looked at him with suspicion.

“Well, that’s a convenient excuse, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elliott said innocently as he led the horse into the stall to lock it back in.

“Well, fine, tomorrow it is. And I expect a fair race this time.”

Elliott laughed and put his hand on the small of her back as they left the stable and made their way back up towards the manor.

“Of course, darling. But the horses really must be tired, and I’m certainly hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose. We have been out here a long time. It seems a while since we stopped for lunch.”

“Dinner should be soon. We should have a wash first, no doubt we smell of horse. I wonder what Tommy’s been up to all day.”

“Well, why don’t we ask him, I can see him over there!” Mary pointed in the distance where she could see Tommy sitting on the steps leading up to the house. “Oh, dear, he’s all alone. I hope he hasn’t been waiting for us.”

As they approached, it became quite evident to Mary that Tommy had been waiting for them — as soon as he spotted them, he came running up to Mary and threw his arms around her waist.

“Oof! Careful, Tommy! Is something the matter?”

Tommy just sniffed, and Mary carefully extracted herself from his grip to bend down to his height.

“What’s wrong, Tom?”

Tommy glanced up at Elliott cautiously.

“Hey, it’s alright. You can trust Elliott, he’s gonna be your brother soon. What’s the matter?” Mary pressed.

“I hate it here, Molly,” Tommy grumbled. “The boys are so mean. They started asking me stuff like - like about our parents and about school. So I said we don’t got parents or money for school and I guess they figured we’re poor cus they started saying I should be in the kitchens and - and they said some really horrid things about you and Mr Marston. So I told them to stop being so mean about you and they was just laughing. So I left but this place is so big I got lost ‘til I came outside and I knew you was outside so I just waited.”

“Bloody imbeciles,” Elliott cursed. “Where are they? I’ll put them to rights.”

“Oh, Elliott, come now, let’s not start fighting,” Mary said. “Duke Beaumont’s being so kind to us, we don’t want to start arguing with his family.”

“Yes, my uncle has been kind. His good-for-nothing grandsons have not. I thought these rich twats were taught manners? Or is that a thing of the past? Tommy — don’t listen to a word those boys say. They don’t know anything about you. Your sister and I know you’re a smart lad, don’t we, Mary?”

“Yes, of course,” Mary said firmly. She stood up, trying not to let herself cry at the thought of the boys being so mean to her brother without her around to protect him, and took Tommy’s hand in hers to lead him back inside. “Come on, let’s go back inside. Elliott, do you think Edith would like a playmate?”

Elliott frowned slightly.

“The little girl,” Mary reminded him. “Honestly, Elliott, these are your cousins.”

“Well, there’s so bloody many of them! My uncle throws around so many names in his letters, I can’t keep up - this one’s married now, that one’s had a baby, this one’s gone off to travel the world. I just write back some congratulations and hope for the best.”

Mary laughed, but all the same, Elliott agreed that it would be a good idea to seek the little girl out. He grabbed a passing servant and told them to take Tommy to play with Edith, and Mary gave her brother another quick squeeze before he went off down the winding hallway.

“I’m still going to give those twats a piece of my mind,” Elliott grumbled as they set off in a different direction towards their rooms so they could wash themselves of the smell of horse. “Nobody in Australia would dare to be cruel to Tommy, you know. Once they know he’s my brother-in-law, they’ll know he’s under my protection. Nobody will dare harm either of you ever again.”

“Oh, they’ll cower at the name Elliott Marston, will they?” Mary teased.

“Will? They already do. Trust me, the moment you walk into any shop out there and introduce yourself as Mrs Marston, they’ll give you only the best. And if they don’t, you just tell me and I’ll double their rent for a year.”

“Elliott!” Mary laughed. “You can’t go around raising people’s rents just because they upset you.”

“Why not?” Elliott said indignantly. “They want to live on my land, they live by my rules, and the first rule is to always give me what I want. That’ll be the third rule now, of course, the first two will be to always give you and Tommy what you want. It’s a harsh terrain out there, but you’ll certainly never want for obedience.”

“I don’t care about that, Elliott.”

They stopped as they reached their rooms, across the hall from one another just as they had been in London, and Elliott smiled endearingly at Mary.

“I know, sweetheart. That’s part of what makes you so wonderfully you. I suppose this is where we part ways — unless, of course, you’d like to share a bath? Save on water and all that.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s exactly your concern. Nothing to do with getting me wet and naked, is it?”

“Darling, if I want you wet and naked, I need only ask,” Elliott said in a low voice. “Well, is that a yes?”

Mary glanced around the hallway to ensure nobody would see her going into Elliott’s room, then quickly followed him inside. Elliott called for a servant to run a bath, and if the servant that arrived thought anything of the fact Mary was in his room, she said nothing about it.

Elliott sat down on the edge of the bed to take his boots off. Mary approached him cautiously, uncertain of how to explain all the thoughts and feelings that were rushing through her.

“Elliott… I’ve had the most marvellous day with you today.”

He looked up at her and smiled.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And - and you’re so good to Tommy. I hope you know how much I appreciate it. So often it’s felt as if I’m the only one who cares about him…”

“Hey,” Elliott said softly, holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he gently guided her to sit next to him on the bed. “He’s a good lad. He must be, if you’ve raised him. I know the two of you come as a package, and if I want to protect you, I’ll need to protect him too — which I do gladly, by the way, not out of some obligation. In fact, I was going to suggest this after the wedding, but… how would you feel if we adopted him?”

Mary’s eyes widened.

“Can - can we do that? Even if I’m his sister?”

“Yes, of course. He wouldn’t have to start calling us mother and father, but as far as the law would be concerned, that’s what we’d be.”

“Oh, Elliott!” Mary cried, throwing her arms around him and kissing him.

Elliott laughed between kisses, her adorable enthusiasm infectious.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes! Oh, I had no idea I could even do that! I always feared someone else might adopt him and take him away — I had no idea I could adopt him!”

“Well, there might be some hurdles - you don’t legally exist, for one, we need to get you some documentation - Mary, I’m trying to talk to you!”

Her lips were on his neck now, kissing every inch of him she could find.

“Talk later,” she said between kisses.

“Alright, if you insist.”

Elliott flipped her over suddenly, causing her to squeal as she found herself on her back. He climbed on top of her, ready to combat her kisses with his own. To his surprise, Mary immediately reached for his belt and started tugging at it.

“Mary —”

“I want you,” she gasped. “I want this - you - all of you. Please.”

“Oh, Mary, you are trying my patience,” Elliott growled with frustration. “You can’t wait two days?”

“No, I want you now. Please, Elliott, don’t you want me?”

Elliott’s eyes darkened with lust. “Oh, yes. Yes, I want you, Mary - fuck, you don’t know how much I want you. But I need you to be sure, because once I fuck you, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

And just like that, Elliott’s resolve melted away. He kissed her, his body pressing down on her, sandwiching her between him and the mattress. Mary wrapped her arms around his torso and began tugging at his shirt to loosen it from his waistband.

“Is there something you want, darling?” Elliott murmured as he detached his lips from hers to kiss her neck.

“Too many clothes,” Mary grumbled.

Elliott chuckled and sat up, looking her up and down appraisingly.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Get that dress off. I want to see all of you when I take you.”

He stood up and gave her space to stand as she tugged at the lace that secured her dress to her body. She was usually so deft with her fingers, but with desperate arousal coursing through her veins, she found herself suddenly clumsy.

Elliott, apparently, had no such problem. His shirt was off in a flash, and by the time Mary had pooled her dress at her feet and kicked it away, he was already fully naked.

“Let me help you with that,” he said in a low voice, tugging at the strings of her corset. He pulled it apart and tossed it aside, and he couldn’t help having a little grope of her breasts when they came free.

“And the rest,” he murmured.

She dropped her bloomers to the floor, and Elliott took her in his arms, kissing her passionately as his cock poked against her stomach. Mary went to take it in her hand, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“Do that and I won’t last,” he said through gritted teeth. He picked her up by the hips easily with his large, strong hands, and laid her down on the bed with a surprising gentleness, letting her rest her head comfortably on the pillow.

As he climbed on top of her, Mary looked him up and down, drinking in the sight of him. Her heart raced a little. She was nervous, but excited too. And she knew it was right.

“You’re shivering, darling,” Elliott noticed as he leant down to place gentle kisses along her collarbone. “Are you cold?”

“I’m - I’m a little nervous,” Mary admitted.

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Elliott promised her. “I’ll be gentle to start with. I’ll take you harder only when you tell me you’re ready. And if you want me to be gentle the whole time, then that’s what I’ll do. You just tell me what you want, alright?”

“Okay…”

“Good girl.”

He moved down her chest slightly to take her breast in his mouth while his fingers reached between her legs to stroke her, feeling how wet she was for him already.

“Is that all for me, darling?”

“Yes,” Mary panted. “All - all for you…”

“Mmm… I thought I’d have to get you ready, but perhaps not. You’re soaked. Are you really that desperate for me?”

“Yes, Elliott, please… please, I need you…”

Elliott wished he could burn this image into his memory, memorise every detail of the way she looked in that moment, lips parted, breath heavy, pupils blown, begging him to take her.

Of course, they’d have many, many more moments like this. It wouldn’t be the last time she’d beg for his cock, he’d make sure of that — but it was the first time, and it was her first time. And as the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, with the way her legs instinctively spread wider and a small whine of need left her lips, it took all of Elliott’s willpower not to fuck hard into her right then.

Instead, he pushed gently, slowly, until her cunt succumbed to him, and he slipped the tip of his cock inside her sweet virgin cunt.

Fuck, she was wet. He could hardly tell she was a virgin with how easily he moved inside her. He had to move slowly, pushing gradually past her walls, muttering words of praise in her ear as he did so.

“That’s it… oh, good girl, Mary… you’re doing so well… fuck, I could live inside this cunt… you look so beautiful like this…”

Mary was amazed at how well Elliott fit inside her. He stretched her out just right, not so much to be painful, just enough to feel oh so good. She had wondered if he would fit, but he kept moving deeper inside her, and when he finally bottomed out, Mary felt so deliciously full.

“Fuck,” Elliott hissed. “Oh, Mary, you feel so… so good. So deliciously tight. How does it feel?”

“It’s good, I - I feel so full of you. I had no idea you could fit so well…”

“Mmm, you were made for me, I think,” Elliott murmured. He kissed her gently, his moustache tickling her skin. “I’m going to move now, okay?”

“Yes, please.”

Elliott smirked with pride at how desperate she sounded. He’d heard of women being in pain when they lost their virginity, but Mary showed no sign of discomfort. As he pulled back, his cock dragging across her walls, she let out a moan of pleasure he’d not heard from her before. Oh, she’d moaned and whined and come apart at his fingers or his tongue before, but this was something different — something new.

He set a steady, gentle pace, taking his time with each thrust, watching her face carefully as she reacted to each movement, her eyes half-closed as she savoured the new sensations. Finally, just as Elliott thought he couldn’t hold back any further, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him.

“More…” she begged.

How could he deny her?

Elliott picked up the pace, one hand holding her in place by the hip, the other clinging onto her shoulder as he anchored himself to her.

He let out a low grunt with each thrust as he tried not to let himself cum too soon. He almost felt like a young man again, cock eager to burst after just a few minutes inside a cunt. And what a cunt, so wet for him, and so tight… and her moans were so sweet, her face so beautiful as she let the pleasure etch itself into her perfect features.

He’d fucked plenty of whores in his life, the last one only the day before he’d met Mary. But that was nothing like what was happening now. This was something he hadn’t done in a long time, not since his first wife had died… not just fucking, but making love.

Because oh, he loved her. Loved every last bit of her, her loyalty, her kindness, her heart. He loved the way she blushed when he muttered something dirty in her ear, loved the way she laughed, the way she put her whole heart into everything she did. And he admired the way she looked at the world, finding joy and wonder in even the simplest of things.

He loved her, and nothing else mattered. It was her, always her, and Elliott knew he would do anything for her. He’d burn the whole world to a crisp for her.

“Elliott, would - would you go faster?” Mary breathed.

“You want more, hm?” he mumbled before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth to tease her. “You want me to fuck you properly, is that it?”

“Yes, Elliott, please… don’t hold back.”

Elliott pushed himself up to his elbows and looked down at her with a wicked smirk.

“As you wish.”

He sat up, gripped her hips firmly, and, just as she’d asked, he gave her more. He fucked her hard, channelling everything he was feeling into his thrusts. His anger at his cousin, his sorrow as he missed home, his pent-up desire he’d been holding onto since the moment he met his future wife — and the love he felt for her, burning and passionate, that coursed through every inch of his body.

“Elliott, I - I —”

Mary could hardly get her words out, but she didn’t need to. He knew from the way her brow knotted and her moans increased in pitch. He knew very well by now when she was about to cum.

He pressed a thumb against her clit, giving her that added bit of pleasure, and with just a few circles of her sensitive little nub she was falling apart beneath him, her walls clamping down around his cock, and Elliott’s release came shortly after, his cock spurting inside her and filling her up as he had what was, most definitely, the most intense orgasm of his life.

Seeing someone usually so collected and in control as Elliott come apart because of her was one of the most beautiful sights Mary had ever seen. His jaw hung open as he groaned, his hips juddered, and she felt his seed filling her up just as, she knew now, it was always meant to.

Elliott all but collapsed on top of her, and it took all of the little energy he had left to pull his softening cock out of her and roll onto his back.

He laid there for a few moments, panting as he caught his breath. Mary laid an arm over his torso, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest as if worried she might go somewhere.

“I thought there’d be blood,” Mary said quietly.

Elliott opened his eyes and looked down. Sure enough, his cock was glistening only with a mixture of their juices, not a drop of red in sight.

“Women only bleed if they’re not prepared for it. You, my love, were very much prepared.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You were marvellous, darling.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Elliott laughed.

“Cheeky girl,” he teased, leaning down slightly to kiss her properly.

“El, I - I was going to tell you something,” Mary said as she pushed herself up so they could kiss without craning their necks. “Before you distracted me, that is.”

“‘El’?” Elliott repeated with mild amusement.

“Oh, sorry - Elliott —”

“No, no, I like it. Go on. You were going to tell me something? Although, I must say, I’m pretty sure you were the one doing the distracting.”

“No, before that!” Mary laughed. “I was, um, working up the courage to say something.”

Elliott looked at her curiously as he played lazily with a strand of her hair. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“Well, I… I wanted to say… I love you, Elliott.”

He grinned then. Not the cocky, arrogant grin he usually sported, but one of true happiness, of joy that he couldn’t contain even if he tried.

“I love you too, Mary.”

Relief washed over her face, a joy as uncontainable as his.

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do. Did you ever doubt it?”

“Well, I - I didn’t want to presume…”

“Presume?” Elliott laughed. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled her onto her back, peppering her face with kisses. “We run away to get married and you think it presumptuous to think I might be just a little bit madly in love with you?”

Mary laughed.

“Elliott, you’re tickling me!”

“Good. Maybe I’ll grow a full beard just to tickle you more.”

“Oh, no, but I like your whiskers how they are! I can’t imagine you with anything else.”

“Then you’ll have to get used to the tickling, I’m afraid.”

Elliott planted one last kiss to her lips, then said, “You know, I do believe someone was running us a bath. Perhaps we should use it before it gets too cold. We not only smell of horse, we now most definitely stink of sex, and we don’t want to bring that to the dinner table. We’re scandalous enough, don’t you think?”

Mary’s eyes widened, as if she’d completely forgotten there were other people around.

“Oh, no, do you think anyone heard us?”

“It’s only us in this wing. It seems my uncle thought of everything and made sure the newlyweds would have their space. Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

Elliott climbed out of the bed, then offered Mary a hand up.

She took it gratefully and said, “But there are servants, what about the one that drew the bath? Oh, no, she was running it when we - do you think she —?”

Elliott laughed and pushed the bathroom door open. To Mary’s relief, it was empty, only the bath standing waiting for them.

“Big houses like these have hidden doors all over the place for staff to slip in and out. She was probably long gone. Come on - let’s get cleaned up. We need to look innocently chaste for dinner tonight.”

- - -

They managed to make themselves presentable enough in time for dinner, and Mary found herself more relaxed and comfortable than she had felt before among all these fancy people. She realised she didn’t care what they thought of her, if they judged her for her station, for her illiteracy — it didn’t matter. Because Elliott loved her. He loved her, and he was going to marry her, and they’d live happily ever after in Australia. Nothing could burst her bubble now.

After dinner, Mary went to the parlour room with the other ladies while the men stayed at the dinner table for a smoke. Tommy came too, and Mary was relieved to see that he’d made friends with Edith, even if she was five years younger. Even though he was getting closer to becoming a man every day, Tommy was still a boy, and she’d never been able to give him any toys. Edith had a surplus, and Tommy was ecstatic that she was willing to share her toys with him.

Once it came time to retire to bed, Mary went about her routine that was second nature to her by now. She went to her room, with the bed she’d never slept in, changed into her nightgown, and snuck across the hallway to wait for Elliott in his bed.

They made love again that night, and in the morning too. It was with great reluctance that Mary got out of the bed to go back to her room and get dressed for the day.

She spent the day helping Duchess Beaumont with the wedding planning. The invites had gone out the day before, and as the day went on people began arriving, Lords and Ladies that had no work to be doing, fulfilling the Duke’s prediction that nobles would take any opportunity to enjoy his hospitality. The rich loved a party, and weddings were the best of them, particularly when they were as intriguing as the wedding of Duke Beaumont’s runaway sister’s son from Australia.

In all the hubbub, Mary hardly got a chance to check on Tommy, though by the way he was chattering away with Leanne, the Duke’s fifteen-year-old granddaughter, at dinner, he seemed to have forgotten all about his upset the day before.

Mary eyed the grandsons, Samuel and Jonathan, a little wearily. They were probably around her age, given her estimate that she was eighteen, and they’d not said a word to her since her arrival. All she had to judge them on was their cruel behaviour to Tommy, so naturally, they were very low in her esteem.

In the parlour room after dinner, Mary found herself sitting by the windowsill with Leanne, who was trying her best to remember her etiquette lessons while probing Mary with questions. Mary, who had had no such lessons, thought it rather amusing the way the girl danced around the questions she clearly wanted to ask.

“Oh, but that’s so romantic!” Leanne gasped when Mary told her the story of her first meeting with Elliott. “He must have fallen in love with you at first sight! Most men don’t go around asking shop workers to dinner, you know.”

“Elliott’s not most men. He says, in Australia, there’s no such thing as Lords and Ladies. He says a person’s worth is measured by what they achieve. Isn’t that marvellous, that anybody can be somebody? Not the convicts, of course, but the settlers. I can’t wait to move out there with him!”

“Oh, but it’s so far away, though! I do hope you’ll write. I dare say having you and Elliott here has been the most exciting thing that’s happened here in months. All I ever get to do is lessons with the governess, and when social events come along, I dread them because father’s always trying to marry me off. I wish I could marry for love like you, Mary, I truly envy you that.”

Mary blinked. “You envy me?”

“Oh, yes!” Leanne said sincerely. “To love and be loved — to the point he’s willing to steal you away! Oh, it’s so romantic. And tomorrow you’ll get to really be together,” she giggled. “I wonder what his kisses are like with those whiskers?”

“His whiskers are rough, but his lips are much softer. I like the contrast.”

Leanne gaped at her. “You mean you’ve… kissed him? Already?! My goodness, they really do do things differently in London!”

“Oh, well, as I say… Elliott does things a little differently. It seems men and women are a bit more liberal with their affections in Australia.”

Leanne giggled. “How scandalous! Perhaps I’ll stow away in your luggage and leave for Australia with you. Although I’m not sure I could survive three months on a boat!”

Mary managed to avoid revealing to Leanne that she and Elliott had done a lot more than just kiss, but the girl seemed more than content with the fact they’d been kissing already. By the time it came time to retire to bed, Leanne was all giggled out, and Mary was looking forward to a good sleep.

She climbed into the bed in her room for the first time that night. She and Elliott had shirked tradition in almost every sense, but Mary didn’t want to risk the bad luck of seeing each other before the ceremony the next day, so she chose to sleep alone that night.

At least, she tried to sleep. She was buzzing with excitement, and by now she’d become used to having Elliott by her side, so the bed felt empty. It must have been past midnight and she was still awake, trying to calm her mind down into sleep, when she heard her door creak open.

She stayed still, trying to make out as if she were asleep. Could Elliott really not resist her for one single night when they’d be sleeping side by side for the rest of their lives?

Footsteps crossed the room quietly, as if trying not to wake her. She kept her eyes resolutely closed.

The duvet was pulled back, revealing her in nothing but her nightdress. A large hand took her by the hip and rolled her onto her front before pushing the hem of her nightdress up to bunch around her waist, revealing her nakedness beneath.

Mary heard the shuffle of fabric being removed behind her. Was Elliott really going to be so bold? Was he not even going to try to wake her?

She felt his weight on top of her as he positioned his body over hers, and his knees pushed her legs apart. He pulled her hips up towards him, and she felt the head of his cock pushing between her legs, positioning himself at her entrance.

 Mary opened her eyes now. She was face-down, so all she saw was pillow.

“Elliott —” she mumbled.

She heard a low chuckle from the man behind her.

It was familiar… but it wasn’t Elliott.

“Guess again,” the voice growled, and with a sudden thrust, he lodged his cock inside her, stretching her walls in a way that hurt more than Elliott’s had, as if the cock were even larger than his.

Mary remembered, with a sudden shock, whose cock was larger than Elliott’s.

She turned her head, trying to look over her shoulder, but Turpin pinned her down with a hand on the back of her head.

“Did you think you could betray me and I’d not hear about it?” Turpin growled in her ear. “I opened my home to you, and this is how you repay me, hm? By running off with my cousin? I don’t think so.”

He pulled back, then thrust into her again, and Mary cried out.

“Quiet, slut. People are trying to sleep. Now shut up and take your punishment.”

He set a harsh, punishing pace as he fucked her from behind, and when Mary couldn’t help crying out, Turpin put his hand over her mouth to shut her up.

“I said, shut. up. Not how you imagined losing your innocence, hm? Only good, obedient girls get to have a romantic wedding night with the Lord who so kindly took her in from the streets. Sluts like you get what they’re - fucking - given.”

She couldn’t tell him she wasn’t a virgin even if she wanted to, because his hand was still clamped over her mouth. And maybe she didn’t want to tell him, because that might make him even angrier.

“That’s it - that’s it, fucking take it. Take your Lord’s cock. Fuck, you’re tight. So tight around my cock. Mhm, I’m going to enjoy filling you with my babies. With a round belly - tits leaking milk - fuck, you’ll be glorious. I’ll fill you up over and over. Mhmm, Mary…”

Mary held onto the pillow, trying not to cry as Turpin violated her over and over, apparently indifferent to the fact she was suffering. This was nothing like it had been with Elliott, this was painful, this was wrong. This wasn’t making love. This was something worse, something she didn’t have a name for, but it wasn’t fucking either. It was cruelty.

Turpin took his hand away from her mouth. His urge to squeeze both her breasts in his hands was apparently too strong. They moved with every thrust, and despite Mary’s reluctance, her nipples were hard, and Turpin pinched them between his fingers, causing her to yelp in pain.

He didn’t try to shut her up again. Perhaps he was too lost in the moment to care if anyone would hear.

Instead, he just fucked her harder. The bed began to creak, the headboard making an unmistakable rhythmic slamming noise as it hit the wall with every thrust.

“Fuck - fuck, Mary - oh, I’m going to cum inside you. So deep inside you, you’ll be so full - so - fucking - full - of my cum! Fu-uuck!”

Turpin came loudly, his groans joining the slamming of the headboard and the slapping of their flesh in the cacophony of sounds, and Mary missed the sound of the door handle hitting the wall as it was thrown open.

She hardly had time to register what was happening. One moment, she could feel Turpin’s cock filling her up with his seed; the next, she heard the sound of a fist connecting with a face, and Turpin’s groan of pleasure turned into one of pain as his cock slipped out of her and he went tumbling onto the bed.

A hand grabbed Mary by her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as she stood, but when she saw that it really was Elliott this time, she cried out in relief and clung to him.

“Oh, Elliott! It’s not what it looks like —”

“No, I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” Elliott growled. Mary looked up at him, terrified, and realised that his anger wasn’t at her. While one arm wrapped protectively around her, the other was outstretched, pointing a gun firmly at Turpin, who was naked on Mary’s bed, cradling a bleeding nose, his cock flaccid and covered in blood.

“You dare to hit me?!” Turpin yelled. “What gives you the right —”

“Don’t fucking move!” Elliott yelled back as Turpin tried to stand up. “Don’t you dare fucking move, William, or I will shoot you. You absolute sack of shit. How dare you touch her? What gives you the right —”

“She’s mine, Elliott! Mine! Imagine my surprise, the very day I intend to send out wedding invitations, receiving one myself for my own betrothed’s wedding to my ungrateful thief of a cousin! I don’t suppose you thought to tell your dear mother’s family that you stole her from me, did you?”

“A woman is not a possession to be owned, William! Mary chose to leave with me! And no, I didn’t tell them, because this wedding is not about fear of you, it’s about our love for one another!”

“Love?!” Turpin scoffed. “You don’t love her. You just want what’s mine!”

“I LOVE HER!” Elliott yelled, the hand holding the gun shaking now. “Love may be an alien concept to you, cousin, and before I met Mary it was nothing to me, but she is love. She is everything that this rotten world is not and I will not have you turning the only good thing in this world into your personal sex slave, popping out as many babies as she can until you wither away and die!”

“You dare speak to me like this?” Turpin growled dangerously. “I am the law! I’ll have you hanged for this!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Mary sobbed. She released her grasp on Elliott and took a step back. “Look at you! You’re family! Close enough that Elliott spent three months on a boat just to visit! I can’t - I can’t live with myself to come between you. Please, please, don’t fight over me!”

“This isn’t just about you, Mary. He’s right - he can have anyone hanged on a whim if they get in his way, so nobody dares stand up to him. Well, I will. Face the truth, cousin! You’ll be dead in a few years, and you’ll die miserable and alone, because nobody could ever love you. Not Mary, not Johanna, not Lucy. Even your first wife threw herself in the Thames rather than spend another day with you.”

Turpin just smiled. A cruel, twisted smile, that struck fear deep into Mary’s heart.

“Yes… yes, I can have anyone hanged. Not you, no - that would be too easy. You wouldn’t suffer. I want you to go back to Australia, to your wooden shacks and your kangaroo shit, and I want you to live your life in utter misery, knowing the woman you covet so much belongs to me.”

“She would never —”

Turpin held up a hand to cut Elliott off, then turned his attention to Mary.

“Mary, my darling… I know Elliott makes life in Australia sound so exciting, but they live like primitives out there. You’ll be so much more comfortable in London. You’ll be a Lady, you’ll want for nothing, and your brother will get all the education he needs.”

“Tommy wants to go to Australia too,” Mary replied, her voice shaking as she stood up to Turpin for the first time. “We’ll be happy there. I’m sorry. We - we don’t want the life you live.”

“Oh, no, no, no, darling, you misunderstand.”

Turpin shuffled across the bed to sit in front of her on the edge of the mattress, smirking at her. Even with blood on his dick and smeared across his face, he still somehow managed to exude power, and Mary had to fight the urge to cower.

“If you marry Elliott, you may well be happy in Australia. But your brother… well, he’ll feel nothing. His last memory will be at the end of a rope.”

“No!” Mary cried.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Elliott said through gritted teeth.

Turpin ignored his cousin, his gaze set firmly on Mary.

“The Beadle’s taking him to London as we speak. I had to make sure I had some collateral. Come noon on Monday, either the chaplain will pronounce us man and wife… or the coroner will pronounce your brother dead.”

[crimeronan]

my most irritating severance theory is that "gemma" was never real and that she's a carbon copy of dichen lachman's character in dollhouse, who was a tabula rasa woman living in a hole that could be programmed with different personalities to fuck rich clients. i'm like 99% sure this is what "exports" are -- it's lumen shipping pre-downloaded sexbots with custom human personalities out to people. and/or using those sexbots for the company's own manipulative agenda.

in keeping with this, the entire relationship and """death""" and subsequent soulshattering grief were all painstakingly manufactured by lumen to get mark scout to sever himself, because for some fucking reason, he's the only one who can complete project cold harbor, whatever the Fuck that is. (i have not been in any theory tags and do not have any ideas about what it is or why mark s is special. or even IF he's special.)

then once mark finds out that gemma isn't real, his feelings for and about her will vanish in an uncomplicated puff of smoke. he will become miraculously free to continue his deeply fucked-up """love triangle""" with the helltwins without needing to answer any complicated questions about, like, the self, and his emotions, and his commitments, and polyamory.

(the helltwins don't count as complicated relationship dynamics because they are the same person, aside from not being the same person, and they hate each other, and also most importantly, mark absolutely Does Not Want to fuck one of them. hurrah!)

this theory irritates the fuck out of me bc i really do think i'm right about gemma. and this "twist," as a way to avoid any interesting themes, would be the laziest, most boring thing they could Possibly do.

i am on my fucking Knees praying to god that they KNOW this is the laziest, most boring thing they could possibly do. Please, God, If You Love Me. Please. Please Don't .

...

HOWEVER.

i WILL accept the lumon-engineered-a-sexbot-relationship-to-coerce-mark-into-severance plot, IF and ONLY if:

gemma is a person.

not like, gemma is a human being whose outie parents aren't actors. i mean, gemma is an artificial sexbot with a nonconsensually programmed personality, AND gemma is a fully sentient living breathing person. who wants her life back. who wants her AUTONOMY back. who is just now learning that she Literally Never Had Autonomy In The First Place.

we, as the audience, get to see her reckon with her identity. we're used to innies being the most oppressed class in the show, but gemma is something else entirely. even less than an innie. she is, legally and corporately, Nothing. she is an object built to serve lumon (and, upsettingly, mark!) without any sense of interiority or free will.

but here she is. having interiority and free will.

if the writers take the themes of personhood and "what is identity?" and "how do we define each other?" to their logical conclusion, by making gemma a non-person who Absolutely Fucking Is A Person....

and so we get to See Her be absolutely fucking MESSY and WRECKED and COMPLICATED, instead of always being the laughing dead wife or the gentle vapid servant....

if gemma Gets An Arc. if gemma makes Choices. if gemma has Motivations and Desires and Fuckups. if gemma gets to be centered in the narrative thematically, the same way the other innies are, if gemma gets to drive the story Herself instead of being the carrot on a stick for mark...

well. then the writers will have my heart. 5eva.

🙏🙏🙏