#i love the au guys this is all you guys get to know before it gets more complicated /lh lh

[starlostseungmin]

after all this time? always — kim seungmin.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　model!seungmin x interior designer fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　in which seungmin was wise to plan your engagement in a haste without you suspecting him.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, established relationship, another wedding au from me, seungmin is in love, chan, hyunjin and felix cameo, a little bit emotional, reader is suffering from a headache, swearing, kissing, light mentions of alcohol, fluff, just fluff, semi-proofread because my head has been hurting.

WORD COUNT: 　7.3k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by tasaki and harry winston seungmin, i wrote this down in a rush because of the previous event that seungmin attended and he looks soooo good! i also want to thank @arrasuh for helping me out ily mwah. i know you guys are expecting something else but this is the final fic for seungmin’s birthday and i hope you like it! happy birthday to my beloved puppy !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“I’ll be out late tonight so don’t wait for me and rest, okay love?” Seungmin said as you watched him wear his shoes by the entryway while holding the ice bag above your head. A heavy sigh escaped from your lips frowning at him but he’s too understanding to shrug it off. 

“I’m so sorry for being sick, Min. I know you’re looking forward to this event.” You groan in response with that distressed look on your face. Seungmin sighs with a smile before taking you into his arms, kissing your forehead making you look at him. 

It was disappointing that youーsomehowーmanaged to get sick the night before the 70th anniversary of a jeweler from Japan that Seungmin got invited to attend. You were supposed to be his plus one but getting nauseous and suffering from a strong headache didn’t want you to experience a private event with your model boyfriend. The regret and being displeased enveloped your emotions that you had to apologize to him multiple times because of your damned situation even though he already said that it wasn’t your fault you got an unbearable headache before his unannounced public appearance. 

“Baby, it’s fine. I understand and we’re not expecting this to happen.” He said and earned another sigh of dismay from you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Felix over so he can take care of you while I’m gone?” He asked as you shook your head in response. “Okay, you’ll be fine alright?” 

“Yes.” You nodded firmly. “I’ll make it up to you next time, Min. I promise.” You frowned as he gave you a quick kiss before pulling away. 

“No need to baby. Take care, okay? I’ll be back before 12.” He said, twisting the doorknob. “Love you!” He smiled, showing those perfectly shaped teeth he had to suffer from braces for three years. 

“Love you too!” And with that, you watched his figure disappear behind the doors of your shared apartment as you sighed heavily in return. 

You felt guilty about it. The first thing he ever did was to take care of you even though you knew he was going to have a busy schedule today and him, leaving at this hour is not something you are used to. Blame that work Chan had asked you to do because ‘the client picked you after you made a great remark on the previous condominium design’ he said. It wasn’t that you’re ungrateful, you’ve been working nonstop because you can’t decide which specific design you are going to present. Being indecisive is the last thing you want to do and because of it, this is the result: A fucking headache. 

Being an interior designer made you spend all-nighters the past few nights while Seungmin was out there doing photoshoots and making brand deals (if that is what he really is up to) leaving you alone in the apartment to brainstorm and make a sketch. Well, you are quite thankful for having a job like this because if it wasn’t for Hyunjin who recommended you when Seungmin was looking for someone to take charge of the design of his new apartment, you wouldn’t be here right now. 

You moved in with Seungmin a year and a half after you met at a meeting to design his new home. The man got smitten at first hello and was persuaded with interestーlistening to every detail and measurement inside his walls. From the color to the furniture to their placements, he didn’t complain and agreed with everything you suggested because he already knew that you could handle what was best for his unique taste. Ultimately, he fell in love with the final look and invited you to attend one of the events he’s modeling for as a form of ‘thank you’. It wasn’t long after that when you and him started dating. 

And that was five years ago. 

Five heavenly years, going six. 

You wondered if the thought of marriage had come across Seungmin’s mind during the past year…but who are you to rush things when work has been drowning you from the start? 

Only a heavy sigh was the thing you could do at the moment and wished him a great night before falling into a deep slumber after your back hit the soft foam of your couch and let the ice bag rest on your forehead. It was already past lunch and Seungmin had to leave early for his hair and makeup. You hated the fact that you were missing out but you couldn’t force your body to stay outside and meddle in his business. Still, you wanted to witness how his stylist would dress him up tonight and that, you just accepted your fate. 

Hours later, Seungmin was welcomed with lights and cameras flashing the moment he stepped out of the car with his manager along the way. All black from top to toe, pearl earrings, a necklace around his pretty neck, and a ring adorned his fingerーhe looked magnificent as he walked gracefully alone by the hallway, like the model that he already is. 

The endless handwaves, his dashing smile, photo ops, it was safe to say that he wished you were there with him. Although, he understands the fact that you got sick and you hated the crowd. But at the same time, he’s quite relieved to be going alone. The media was eyeing him that night. An A-list model being invited to such an event is a great eye candy. He stood out the most among every guest at the venue, smiling and making everyone fall for him. The unending flashing of cameras in front made his fit shine with the silver background with the word ‘TASAKI 70th anniversary’ on it, and the jewelry that the stylist picked that would suit him. He was good at his job, mainly a professional who knows how to handle the media. With just one smile, a nod, a wave, a polite bow, and a poseーSeungmin is not just any other model out there. 

He got busy along the way with a decent (tons) amount of interviews for them to post something on social media, the shoots, magazine opportunities, and the ‘trying out of their products’ session to show them offーhe was occupied. It’s going to be one heck of a night for him but for sure, he’ll enjoy it in his own way somehow. He would try to survive another event alone for a while. Lucky for him, those overwhelming activities cascaded when he was assisted by a lady who was in charge of taking him around. He is gestured politely to leave the photo op. area and was taken to the display along with a few bodyguards and his manager tailing him. 

When they reached the rings section, he tried to focus on the lady who introduced him to the different jewelry that this event could show off for its anniversary. He immediately thought of you while browsing and unbeknownst to your knowledge, he had a plan in mind. 

Seungmin acted with interest and curiosity with the jewels. He nodded while listening to the lady as she explained the different types of rings to him as he fell on the thought of which of them was perfect for you. The truth is he’s been planning to propose after your fourth anniversary as he was sure that you are the one that he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with but work got in the way. And for almost two years, he’s been measuring the size of your ring finger whenever you were asleep or from an innocent touch of your hands being intertwined with his. He may or may not have stolen a ring from your vanity without your permission just be sure the moment he was informed about the event. 

“So these exquisite rings are designed for women, especially during special occasions like engagements and weddings…” It was a blur for Seungmin as his eyes scanned the display. The idea of proposing did come to mind after spending six heavenly years with you. It’s just that, he couldn’t find a great time to do so just because of a rigged schedule of his. After all, he’s wanted to keep it a secret this one time. 

He was distracted by a specific ring that made him look at the one he was wearing. It wasn’t the type of ring that is used for a formal occasion, but the one that you place on top of them. He leaned forward to the glass to take a better look, both diamonds and pearls were captivating. You did mention that you like rings that would match your outfits when you go outside, it doesn’t matter whether it’ll catch attention or someone might mistake you as someone’s fiance. Seungmin loved the idea but this one is not about style anymore, but is to make the second option to become a reality.

“So, what’s the difference between pearls and diamonds in terms of getting them for a wedding proposal?” He asked with eyes fixated on the rings

“That’s a good question! Actually, pearls are traditional. If you give your girlfriend a pearl ring for your engagement, it symbolizes purity and happiness. It gives protection and eternal love. Pearls are common in weddings too.” The lady said as he gave her an invested nod. “Diamonds are for mutual commitment and everlasting love, they’re common for engagements.” 

“They’re both perfect.” He said. 

There was this smile that painted Seungmin’s lips as he looked at every ring on the display and one of them caught his attention. He tried not to be obvious about it and never left his spot even if the lady already stopped explaining the set. His eyes were fixed on a certain ring that he was dying to buy. The ring he stole stayed still inside one of his pockets and he immediately pulled out to show it to her. He did remember the time when you went to Japan for a vacation two years ago and happened to pass by a jewelry shop that you could barely remember the name but to Seungmin, it was this exact brand. You both wanted promise rings so you went to browse for a bit. 

[ “Look, Min. They’re so pretty!” You said pointing at those beautiful rings on display with your eyes sparkling like a character from an anime. “The balance duo pearl and diamond ring in that color (sakura gold) is pretty.”

“Do you want a pair? Which one do you like?” He asked and was ready to take his wallet from his pocket but he saw you shake your head in response. “Why not?” 

“They’re not promise ring material. It’s sort of…hmm for weddings and engagements so maybe next time? If we’re still together for the next few years to come!” You laughed as he chuckled in response. 

“I would never break up with you, Y/N.” He said as you smiled at him. Unbeknownst to your knowledge, he already has it listed on his notes app. ]

“Are you planning to purchase one of these tonight, Mr. Kim?” She asked with an anticipated smile as Seungmin came back to the present.

“I’m about to but, I’m not sure if these pieces here are for sale.” He said while fidgeting the ring on his fingers. 

“We have stocks in the private room where we keep different sizes of these rings. The ones we have here are fixed sizes. Which one do you want?” 

“I want the one on the left, the balance duo pearl and diamond ring. The sakura gold.” He said as the lady’s smile grew to her ears. 

“You know what you want. Right this way, Mr. Kim.” She said and left the rings section to the private rooms. The lady already knew the purpose of him asking her about the rings and making a wise decision impromptu was just a thrilling moment to witness. Seungmin is the type to plan something in secret without getting caught and the fact that you didn’t even notice your missing ring made it more natural. 

“It is for my girlfriend.” He said and showed them the ring to measure the exact size of your finger. “I want it polished and neat so I can take it home tonight.” He added. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim.” The staff was quick enough to make the purchase and wrapped the ring immediately. Seungmin was so keen on picking the right ring with the perfect sizeーknowing him, he’s a perfectionist. 

“Make sure no one finds out about this and don’t tell Y/N. Make them sign an NDA.” He whispered to his manager. “I’m calling Chan hyung in later, please watch over the transaction here’s my card.” He added as he handed him his card and was assisted by the organizer to come and join them at the dining hall for the formal dinner.

Seungmin stayed there for a while. He was accompanied by fellow guests in the dining area where he had to do other transactions and meetings. The night is still young yet the social interactions get a little bit overwhelming. Seungmin admitted that he’s not the type to party and just sits in the corner of the room to greet anyone who passes by. His manager was nowhere to be found and he was busy eating his dinner with a few colleagues at the same table. 

“So, any plans on settling down?” A who was sitting beside him asked making Seungmin chuckle in response. 

“I hope so, we’re not getting any younger.” Seungmin said that made everyone laugh. Yes, I do have. Sighs. 

With all the small conversations, business smiles, group pictures, and discussion of plans. He had enough of it and wanted the night to end. If you were there, he would ignore everyone around him and focus on you. The idea of longing suddenly hit him and maybe if Hyunjin did mind accompanying him, it would be less boring too. 

Not long after that, he excused himself and went to make a phone call near the private rooms. He knew he had to call Chan for follow-ups. He walked a few meters away and smiled at the people whom he just encountered as he took his phone out, trying to make a phone call. He poked his inner cheek as a hand shoved in his pocket while the other one was holding his phoneーpressing it to his ear. The media was taking lots of pictures and videos again with Seungmin calling someone over the phone. There was this glass wall barrier that made the gap between him and the rest of the people outside. He was so serious about the call that everyone was curious about the conversation. 

“Hyung, hi. How’s the venue?” He asked. 

“It’s going well. The blueprint was out a few days ago and we’re almost done. We need Y/N to come over tomorrow for the finishing touches so we can start the preparations.” Chan answered. 

“I’ll ask her when I get home. She’s pretty sick right now, I can’t force her to go to work.” Seungmin sighed as he massaged his temples. 

“Alright. We can schedule it for a later date if you can’t come tomorrow but call me again if you make any changes. We’re already finalizing the arrangements.” The older man added as Seungmin bit his lower lip fidgeting his ring, getting anxious at the moment. 

“Hyung, are you sure this will work? I mean, I don’t want this relationship to get any extensions without giving Y/N a ring. I’m serious about her.” Seungmin said, leaning back on the wall and sighed again. 

“As long as you won’t say anything, Seungmin. It will be fine. Besides, Y/N has been working nonstop on the interior of the venue for the past week, so I’m sure she’ll be happy. And you’re crazy enough to make her design the proposal venue.” Seungmin laughed at it. 

That hour, you were wide awake after realizing you’d spent the whole afternoon through the evening asleep. You sprinted out of the couch to get your phone only to be spammed by Seungmin’s pictures from the event in all media platforms as possible. It made your heart leap like frogs celebrating joy when it rains and the blush in your cheeks came in to be hot as if you’ve taken large amounts of alcohol. 

His hair was styled with jel making it look like it was wet, especially his bangs that fall on his forehead, that damn sating suit that exposes a little bit of chest with that pearl necklace, the heels of his fucking shoes, and his face card? You are one crazy (unknowingly) soon-to-be fiance. His new haircut made it more beautiful and if comes home wearing that exact suit, you won’t be able to hold yourself and kiss him like no other. 

You called him immediately after that and lucky for you, Chan just ended the call. Seungmin smiled upon reading the new ID calling on his screen and swiped the answer button in a heartbeat. He wasn’t expecting you’d call him on a schedule and you know you shouldn’t but the excitement you felt is going to burst if you won’t scream at him (lovingly). 

“Hey baby,” He smiled even though he knows you can’t see it. 

“Seungmin, my love! I just saw the press’s photos and you look so good!” You squealed. “I suddenly feel better now that I know how you look tonight. It’s such a shame I couldn’t see you at the event.” You added as you walked around in circles around your living room. 

“Do you like it?” He smirked. 

“Babe, the word ‘like’ wouldn’t give it justice. I love it and I love you.” You said. It was endearing to hear your voice despite him being busy. Aside from it sounding so cute and hyped, he longed for your presence at times like this. It made him shy and laughed through the line as your smile got bigger. “Are you almost done?” 

“I will be home in a few minutes love. The event started a bit late and I’m just finalizing something then I’ll be on my way.” He reassured as your hand tightened its grip on your phone. 

“Don’t rush, Min. Will I see you with that fit when you come home?” You asked. 

“You most definitely will.” He said. “I love you, Y/N.” 

You didn’t know why a tear suddenly fell from your eyes that made you sit back down on the couch. There was something about that ‘I love you’ that made you emotional at some point. It is almost six years for you and him but there is no ring yet. How many times did Seungmin make you cry just because of a simple ‘I love you’? Many times, indeed. Multiple even. He is the perfect man for you and there’s no one could ever replace him in your heart. 

There were times you fought but it didn’t get to a certain level of toxicity and you’re thankful that Seungmin is the type to resolve a fight before going to bed. You weren’t in a rush to get married but you still wonder why Seungmin hadn’t asked you yet. On the other hand, you have to understand the barriers of this relationship for the past six years. He had given you those amazing years despite the busy schedule you both have. It doesn’t matter if you wed in a few months or a year, being together is all that matters. 

“I will wait for you to come home, Min.” You said in the most soothing voice. Your excitement cools down and is later replaced by longing, you can’t wait for him to come home. One single hug and a kiss would suffice. 

“I’ll send you a picture before I leave, okay love?” He said as you nodded in response albeit the fact that he won’t see it. 

“Okay, get home safely Min.” 

“I will and I’ll see you in a bit.” The phone call was cut off when Seungmin was called by his manager while holding a small shopping bag in one hand and left the area. Soon he was assisted back to the main venue and asked for the ring. His manager took out the small box and showed the dashing diamond and pearl being attached on top in one decent metal without getting the attention of the media. “This is good. Can you keep it for me? I don’t want Y/N to suspect me when I get home.”

“Of course, when will you pick this up?” His manager asked upon returning it to the bag. 

“I will call you,” Seungmin answered. 

“Okay then, I’m going to get the car ready. Are you sure you won’t stay for the after-party?” 

“No, I’m going home.” He said as the manager nodded and headed outside. 

Seungmin was later assisted by his bodyguards and bid goodbyes to the organizer and the rest of the staff telling them that he had a good time. He walked out of the venue with a polite smile and bows as he waved back to his fans who were screaming his name. The videos and pictures are already all over the place and he couldn’t wait to see your reaction once he gets home. He sat down in the backseat as his manager drove him back to your shared apartment and he didn’t forget about the picture he promised to send. 

“No one is looking at that damn ring, Kim Seungmin.” You muttered as you received the picture. It was just him sending a picture showing off his ring with his hand covering his mouth and half of his nose. You’ve sent a lot of emojis and memes in return as he chuckled with him getting shy about it while admiring how adorable you were. He couldn’t wait to hug you and smother you with kisses by the time he stepped into the entryway. 

Seungmin couldn’t contain his smile as he hurried to get on your floor the moment his manager dropped him off by the entrance and when he decided to open the door, he was welcomed by an excited hug. He was caught off guard but later laughed in response as he took you again in his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“I missed you.” He said as he buried his face on your neck. 

“We only saw each other this noon, Min.” You answered, kissing the side of his head before pulling away. “How’s the event? You look so good, by the way. You’re so handsome. My baby!” You cried with invisible tears feeling hyped about him. 

“Thanks love. It was bearable but good.” He answered as he kissed your lips. “I couldn’t wait to go home. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m better now.” You kissed him back. “Did you eat?” 

“I did but not that much. Are you hungry?” He asked, giving you another kiss on the forehead. 

“A little, I just woke up from a nap. Well, I don’t consider it a nap.” You huffed. “And I was about to cook but I got excited waiting for you.” You smiled at him as he giggled. 

“I’ll cook for you.” He said as he went to the kitchen where you followed him.

“No, you’re tired. I’m fine, you wash up and rest.” You argued. 

“I’m not the one fresh from a migraine, baby so sit down and let me cook.” He said playfully hitting you with a ladle while rummaging through the fridge making you frown in response. “Oh and by the way, Chan hyung called.” 

“What’s up?” 

“He asked if you could come visit the venue tomorrow. That is if you’re feeling better. We can re-schedule it.” He said with his broad back facing you and if you were really feeling better, it still feels like you are in a haze for having to admire his physique and that damn suit with his left ear pierced. Seungmin couldn’t hear a sound from you a few seconds after he asked when he decided to turn around and had you daydreaming. “Baby?” 

“Shush, I’m still trying to process how hot you look.” You said with that hypnotized smile with Seungmin snapping his fingers in front of your face. “No!” You whined in response. 

“Babe, you always see me wearing this type of clothes.” He laughed. 

“I do but it’s not every day I get to witness you being like this and this is one of your biggest events this year!” You argued. “And I love you in a suit. You did well at the event by the way.” You pouted, making him leave a kiss on your lips. 

“Are you sure you feel fine? Because you’re so sickly in love with me.” He smirked making you smack his arm playfully and roll your eyes only to return it with another kiss to shut you up. 

You melted in his touch and tasted the champagne he had from the formal dinner. His hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to his body with his other hand cupping your jaw while tilting his head to the side for more access. Your hands reached for his sleeves, gripping them with your fingers as you moved your lips along with hisーfeeling the desperation and longingness. Seungmin’s lips linger longer, not wanting to let go of the moment. 

Soon he felt your hands wrapped around his neck as he deepened the kiss to savor the lost time with you. He hated to go to these events alone, especially without your presence. You also admit that you don’t want him to leave during the times when you need him the most. Seungmin on the other hand wanted to make up and not just by letting your lips dance together with your arms tangled around to keep your bodies warm and full of fondness. 

He loved every bit of moment you two have; whether it be a serious one or just playful. He loved everything that involves you. It doesn’t matter if you are fresh out of being sick, his lips didn’t want to leave yours as it makes him pull you closer even more. You smiled between the kiss as your fingers played with his supposedly wet locks that made him sigh on your mouth and went for a deeper one while biting your lower lip earning a soft moan from you. He pulled away and gave a peck on your lips before landing another one on your forehead as he took you again in his arms. 

“I love you so much.” He said. 

“I love you more.” You smiled against his chest while sniffing the lingering smell of his perfume. “And I love how you smell like.” 

“You love me that much, huh?” He smirks. Being in love with him is an understatement. No words can describe and match what you feel about him because you and Seungmin, himself, knew that it is much more than the word ‘love’.

“I always do but the food won’t cook itself if you’re going to keep flirting with me.” You told him as he laughed in return. 

“After this, I’ll wash up so we can eat. But you didn’t answer my question earlier love.” He said. 

“Oh right. Yes. I can visit tomorrow.” You smiled. “Chan left a message. He said I can come in the morning. Will you go with me? He said I have to meet the client by the afternoon so I don’t think I can come home early.” 

“In the morning? No. I need to take this suit back to my stylist and sign a few papers. But I can drop by in the afternoon.” Seungmin nodded. Way to go, Seung. One more lie and then you’ll be considered as a pathological liar. 

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all. I’ll be with Chan.” 

You indeed spent the next morning with Chan, your assistant, at the venue having to organize the remaining touches. Surprisingly, you are not supervising an apartment’s design but a venue for a wedding proposal. The alleged client hasn’t arrived yet, the only bridge you have with them is Chan. It’s not like you are suspicious but having to organize an engagement is not something you’d expect as an interior designer for homes, not a venue for a specific occasion. Either way, you are enjoying doing the set-up and couldn’t wait to witness a proposal. 

Chan was the one who supervised the venue while you rested as he sent all the measurements and FaceTimed you for a visual take these past days. Also, there’s this unexplainable smile plastered on your face as you gathered the materials for the finishing touch and guided the staff on where to put specific furniture in their places. And since you were informed that today is the day for both the client and his partner to announce their engagement, you are already dressed up in a white elegant dress with an over-lapping top-like vest. The length ended up in your mid calvesーthe right length for a formal event; not too long and not too short with your hair styled into (style of your choice) as a formality. 

You didn’t have any new dresses to wear and didn’t get a chance but a new one because of this damned schedule but little did you know, Seungmin brought you one. The dress laid by the end of the bed is what you see after getting out of the shower this morning. Confused as you are, you didn’t notice it earlier, or if Seungmin purposely leave it there when you weren’t looking. It was quite weird yet he was a lifesaver. 

The chandeliers were high as they matched the white sheer drapes hanging on the ceiling. The flowers were ordered based on the soon-to-be bride’s taste which happened to be your favorite flowers too with every color possible. From the lights to the floor plan, everything was based on the sketch you made that caused your headache but you are satisfied with the outcome of the venue. The client said that they wanted it to be special as you may add some personal touch which you did. 

You thought about Seungmin at some point. How would he make such a proposal if this ever crosses his mind? Will he see the hint when he gets here and watch the client propose to their partner? But then, just like any other careerman, he wouldn’t consider this for now. It hurts you a little bit after all this time of being in a relationship with him and yet he didn’t give you any ring, neither a promise ring just like you told him when you visited Japan two years ago. Yet, you’re happy with what you have right now. A wedding or no wedding, Seungmin is one faithful who cherishes you. Or that’s what you thought. 

“So, uhm, what time will he be here?” You asked Chan who is currently looking at the list of the things to be finished by the time the ‘client’ gets here. 

“Who?” Chan asked innocently, scratching the back of his head with the pen he was using. 

“The client?” You huffed. “You said he’ll be here. It’s almost 5.” Chan immediately glanced at his wristwatch and mentally cursed at himself. 

“That’s odd, he should be here to check. Let me make a call.” Chan said as he excused himself to go outside. You cocked your head as your hands rested on your waist with your tongue poking your cheek trying to be optimistic about what’s going to happen in a few moments. Being late is not your forte but it’s not my proposal anyway, you thought, and Seungmin is even not here yet. 

“Ms. Y/N?” Someone called as it took your attention. 

“Yes?” You asked, turning around to see the intern standing by the center part of the venue (where the client will ask their partner). 

“There’s something wrong in this set of flowers, Ma’am.” The intern said nervous about what she just said. 

You sigh gently in response as you take your way in her direction to check and while you’re at it, that was the signal Chan needed. He didn’t go out of the venue to make a phone call but to tell Seungmin it was his time to go inside as the intern distracted you with the flower problem. There was indeed, a flower problem. The colors didn’t match with the other sets and you were quite annoyed about the small detail being ruined. 

“I’m sorry, the florist probably messed up this set.” The intern said. It was on purpose. Everyone is involved.

“No, it’s fine. We can still fix it. I need some scissors.” You said. 

Seungmin took his chance while you were distracted. He hurriedly took out the ring and quietly stood behind you without making it obvious. The other staff and Chan, including Hyunjin who came to witness such an event gathered in their places for the surprise. Seungmin’s heart is beating faster and he did take time to dress up for his special occasion. With a black coat with a white polo inside, the black slacks paired up with black shoes, and a watch around his left wrist, he is dashingly handsome just to be able to match the dress he bought for you. His hair was styled the same as the TASAKI event yet his bangs were parted to expose his forehead that you always screamed about. 

He didn’t need to check the venue when Chan mentioned that you had already finished the preparation. During those sleepless nights and revisions, Seungmin always knew that you were good at doing your job. He did get worried about you finding out but he did great on not taking any actions that would spill his secret away and he also admits that it’s quite crazy that he made you prepare his proposal just to take time and not make it that obvious. 

In the end, he’s here now, waiting for you to turn around and say the words. It has been a wonderful five, almost six years of this relationship. Even though there were ups and downs, the challenges that put this affinity at risk, the people doubting it, and even questioning if there would be a possible marriage in the future, Seungmin was hurt and torn about those insignificant thoughts, especially if one day, you’ll decide to leave him but you are sure that it won’t happen anytime soon. He was overly thankful to you because, after all this time, you were the one who ensured to wait and trust him. 

He never lost hope. 

“Where are the scissors?” You asked, curious as to why the intern was taking so long, and turned around only to find your boyfriend with a big smile on his face. “Seungmin? What are youー” 

You were cut off when he suddenly went down with one knee and pulled out the small box from his coat’s pocket and opened it revealing the same ring you saw on your vacation two years ago. Tears suddenly streamed down on your cheeks because he remembered and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for after a while of thinking when he’s going to propose. 

“(Y/F/N), it has been an amazing five years with you and the word love is not enough to explain this feeling. I love you with all of my being and I’m thankful that you trusted me to take care of your heart. I know I have a lot of shortcomings in this relationship and saying sorry is not going to suffice but seeing you being true and giving your full trust in me made me think that I should do better to be the best boyfriend you could ever have.” He paused as his tears started to form in his eyes. You cover your mouth, speechless as you look at him, feeling as emotional as ever. He is good, so good at keeping this a secret, and quite smart for making you do the design of the venue, and yet, you didn’t think of anything right now. “I’ll give you happiness, my eternal love, my heart… I’ll protect you with all of my might if you just give me a chance. May I be your husband and spend the rest of your life with me?” 

You looked around and saw your friends and the rest of the staff giving you thumbs up and silent cheers, trying not to interrupt the moment. And without hesitation, you nodded. 

“Yes,” You said. “Yes! I would love to!” You exclaimed as Seungmin’s smile grew wider and took the ring from the box to slide it gently to your ring finger. It’s just the perfect size and a perfect choice for his beautiful fiance. 

The crowd cheered as Hyunjin and Chan popped the confetti, clapping and saying congratulations from here and there along with the rest of the staff and the popping of champagne. You couldn’t contain your happiness that you pulled him into your arms, giving him a passionate kiss to show everyone that it’s finally official. You’re getting married. He immediately returned the kiss and this time, it was so good that you couldn’t wait to experience it in front of the altar. 

“Thank you so much for saying yes.” He said pulling away not being able to mind the people around you. 

“And thank you for asking me, Min.” You said trying not to ruin your make-up with those precious tears. Seungmin kissed you again as his system got hugged by excitement. He too, couldn’t wait to seal this relationship in front of his friends and family. 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Seungmin and Y/N!” Hyunjin said approaching you with a bouquet of flowers as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Thank you! And Hyunjin? Here, I thought you were the client.” You said as the guy shook his head in return, waving his hands intensely. 

“Not now maybe soon! Chan hyung here informed me about the preparations.” Hyunjin answered patting Chan’s back. “I still need to find the one.” He laughed which made Seungmin let out a smug smile. 

“Was this your plan?” You asked them as you took the bouquet. 

“We did plan to hire another organizer but Seungmin didn’t want a new one for the sake of this engagement. He wanted your personal touch to make it more familiar and comfortable.” Chan said with a sheepish smile and that’s when you looked at Seungmin who turned away as if he didn’t plan all of thisーall red out of embarrassment.

“Baby, you didn’t have to!” You said, playfully hitting his arm. “You have some explaining to do.” 

“We will leave you guys for privacy.” Chan smiled, nudging Hyunjin. 

“And don’t mind me dining at the buffet!” Hyunjin exclaimed and that’s when you and Seungmin were alone at the same spot he proposed. 

“So?” You asked him, raising a brow. 

“Fine, you got me!” Seungmin said, still wearing that happy smile of his. “Baby, I did have plans of proposing for a while but our schedules are always delaying my plan. When I was exclusively informed that I got invited to attend the TASAKI’s anniversary, I quickly took the bait and planned it immediately.” He started. 

“Is that why you were so busy these past days?” You asked again as he nodded, licking his lips while being caught red-handed.  

“I asked Chan hyung to pretend that you have a VIP client to push your other schedules and when you agreed to design the venue when, I, clearly knew that you’re not an organizer, still you did good about the place, all the flowers and the arrangements from the curtains to the chandeliers, tables, and the rest of everything, it made you distracted for a while.”He paused as he looked at you with those eyes. Those sparkling pretty eyes that you want to look at all day without getting tired of it. “I’m sorry that because of this immediate preparation made you sick along the way and was not expecting that I was the one who asked for it. I even invited Hyunjin. And those brand deals and signing of papers were just an excuse because I always visit the venue.” He said which made you tear up even more. 

“Why youー”

“And remember the ring we were looking at when we were in Japan? They had it on display at the event so I bought it and asked my manager to bring it home because if I did, you’ll suspect me. And I think I did good picking that dress for you.” He smiled, slowly leaning toward you as he kissed your forehead. “You look beautiful as ever.” 

Kim Seungmin. 

His name is what your heart screams for and his existence is the reason for its every beat. He is the single drop of sunlight from the heavens that grew a golden flower in your garden and the rain that quench its thirst from the drought. The bright moon on a dark night, the stars that illuminate the black sky, and the daylight you wake up to every morning. Not everyone in this world is given a gift that was molded by the gods themselves and delivered to you at an unexpected time. Love is not something you seek, it is given at a perfect time and Seungmin barging into your world as a client way back years ago is the time that you’d receive their gift. You still don’t know what you did to be blessed with such a perfect man but you are thankful for him. His love couldn’t match anything that he gives more of what you’ve been asking. 

“I love you so much.” You sobbed. “I don’t hate any of this even if I’m the one who designed it.” You laughed in between. “But I am so happy that you finally proposed. I actually thought it never crossed your mind but even if there’s no proposal, I am willing to stay either way and wait for you, Min. You don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me for the past five, almost six years and I am so grateful to you for choosing me.” Seungmin looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. He wanted to kiss your tears away and make you the happiest person in the world. No, he didn’t regret choosing you. He may have been blessed by the heavens and Hyunjin for introducing you to him, and ever since he couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

“After all this time?” Seungmin tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“Always.” As you gaze up at him, the warmth feels your body as you’ve always been sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. 

He watches you squeal and smile while showing off your engagement ring to everyone around after pulling away. Chan and Hyunjin were so smiley that they were glad that Seungmin finally came up with this arrangement. His eyes sparkled in awe like a puppy being finally accepted into a new family.

“See this?! This is what Seungmin gave me! He remembered the ring I wanted years ago.” You said in excitement. 

“I wish Seungmin would give me some too,” Hyunjin said playfully making Chan smack his arm. You look over your shoulder as your eyes meet initiating the sweetest smile you could ever show him out of joy. Seungmin was surrounded by his friends yet his eyes never left you. 

“I'm such a lucky guy.” He says under his breath. 

“Yeah, I know,” Felix answered while sipping a glass of champagne (he was late) but Seungmin didn’t mind as he continued to admire you from a distanceーready to face a new chapter with you.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @hwan-g , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[luveline]

hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)

thanks for requesting! fem, 2k

You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style. 

It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night. 

There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair. 

The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.  

It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death. 

He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them. 

“Hey.” 

You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are. 

“Hi,” you say. 

“I’m Jamison.” 

“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?” 

“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.” 

Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze. 

Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers. 

“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.” 

“Nice, really?” 

Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels. 

He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually. 

“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.” 

You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.” 

“What were you doing? Before all this?” 

“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?” 

“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.” 

You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.” 

You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people. 

It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him? 

Nope. 

You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there. 

You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him. 

“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks. 

You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile. 

Something seems a little wrong. 

“Steve,” you explain. 

“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.” 

You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?” 

“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.” 

“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.” 

“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says. 

You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.” 

“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?” 

“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”

You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers. 

He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down. 

“Hey,” you say. 

Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” 

You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.” 

“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.” 

“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.” 

He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.” 

“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?” 

“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook. 

You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?” 

“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

“I know.” 

That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek. 

You love him so much it must give you an aura. 

“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly. 

You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.” 

He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?” 

“I might’ve.” 

You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer. 

“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.” 

You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.” 

Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”

He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe. 

You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing. 

You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh. 

“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?” 

“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.” 

Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?” 

“He knows.” 

Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose. 

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, alright? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who���s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me a reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be far, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

[alwaysmicado]

Callisto I

10.2k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 9

Series Masterlist | Joel Masterlist | previous | AO3

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, weed, mention of domestic violence, toxic dynamic, graphic vomiting, emotional rollercoaster, fluff Summary: Your car ride home from the beach is...eventful. Joel does something special for you to express his feelings. A/N: This part was going to be much too long, so I split it in two. It was important for me to post part I of Callisto before my birthday, and I’m so excited that I finally get to share it with you. Happy reading & please let me know your thoughts if you’re up for it. Thank you for your continued support, guys! ♡ Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Songs: Backburner by NIKI & My Exes by Snake City

“Why do you keep coming back?”

You bring the joint to your lips, your fingers brushing lightly against his as he passes it over. You take a deep drag, letting the familiar burn of the weed settle into your lungs before you exhale, slowly, the smoke curling into the night air. It’s a slow haze, softening your anger, making it easier to breathe even if only for a little while. 

The pressure in your chest doesn’t lift—it never does, not really—but the weed at least dulls the edges.

For now, anyway.

The streetlight casts long shadows on the chipped concrete, bathing you both in a murky orange hue. You sit side by side on the curb, the shared joint passing lazily between you, the quiet of the night only disturbed by a dog barking further down the road.

Simon leans back, his shoulders slumped, the hood of his jacket pulled up, obscuring most of his face. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, tracing the outline of his jaw, the way his lips curl around the joint. You hate how he still looks good to you, even after his latest stunt. 

“Why do you keep coming back?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, as if he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it. “If all we do is hurt each other?”

You shrug, looking up at the stars, or what little of them you can see through the haze of city smog. You know the answer, but it feels too pathetic to admit out loud. The truth? It’s not that simple. It never has been.

“Maybe because the pain is addicting,” you whisper, your voice barely cutting through the stillness. “It’s like…a twisted dance, and we can’t stop stepping on each other’s toes.”

Simon smirks, and you catch the briefest glimpse of that crooked smile that makes your heart race. “You always were poetic,” he mutters, his tone tinged with both affection and scorn. He passes you the joint again, and this time, when your fingers brush, it sends a jolt through you—familiar, electric, dangerous.

You take a drag, letting the smoke cloud your thoughts, dull the ache. “I mean it, Simon,” you say, the words coming out slower now, heavy from both the high and the weight of them. “We know how to hurt each other in all the right ways. It’s almost like…we’re better at hurting than loving.”

He chuckles, but it’s empty, hollow. “Maybe we were never supposed to love in the first place,” he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe all we’re good at is fucking things up.”

There’s no denying the truth in his words. You’ve been here before, countless times, caught in this cycle of destruction, breaking each other apart piece by piece, only to come back together, craving the chaos more than the calm. Simon would get restless after a while, he’d cheat and lie, you’d find out, you’d scream, cry, threaten to leave, and then—somehow—you’d end up in his arms again.

It was exhausting, suffocating, but it was also magnetic. You didn’t know how to leave. And neither did he.

You sigh, flicking the ashes of the joint onto the ground, your hand trembling slightly. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” you say, more to yourself than to him. “The way I can’t seem to let you go, even though I know you’re bad for me.”

He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he studies your face for a moment. “Have you ever considered that you’d be a lot happier if you just admitted to yourself that you like it?”

He reaches for the joint, his fingers brushing yours for longer this time, deliberate. “You can keep telling yourself I’m the bad guy all you want, babe,” he says, his voice low, “but we both know you ain’t innocent in this either. You like it. The fighting, the drama, the sex. You like what we have.”

Your stomach tightens at his words, because there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. 

You’ve said things, done things, you’re not proud of. Screamed in his face, hurled insults meant to wound, thrown plates that shattered like the fragile remains of your relationship. And then, when the storm passed, you’d pull him into bed, your anger melting into a desperate kind of need. It was all you knew—this toxic spiral that twisted love and pain together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“Maybe,” you admit softly, feeling the weight of your own guilt settle on your shoulders. “Maybe I do.”

Simon turns to you then, his gaze locking with yours, and for a moment, you can see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he never lets anyone else see. “So, what are we doing here?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “We’re just gonna keep doing this? Over and over?”

You swallow hard, the question hanging between you like a knife. You know the answer, even if you don’t want to admit it. You’re stuck in this loop, and neither of you knows how to break free.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Simon leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and for a second, your heart races with that familiar, dangerous anticipation. “We don’t have to stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “We can keep this going; keep fucking up, keep hurting, keep loving. It’s what we do.”

You let out a small, tired laugh, and shake your head. “Yeah, Simon, great plan,” you say, your tone light, almost condescending, though there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s just keep breaking each other into pieces. That’s gonna end well.”

You don’t even have the energy to fight properly. It’s all too much, and you’re too tired. Tired of the fights, the back-and-forth, the constant cycling through pain and passion like it’s the only way you know how to exist together.

He watches you closely, his gaze unwavering, as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, waiting for you to snap at him, to tell him off. But you don’t. You can’t. You feel the exhaustion settle in your bones, making it impossible to muster up any anger.

Why is it so difficult?

What the hell is wrong with you that it’s so difficult for him to love you? To not hurt you? You wonder if it’s something about you, something broken deep inside, something that makes you impossible to love. 

You’ve tried, haven’t you? You’ve bent yourself to fit the version of you he seems to want, the version that’s easier, less complicated, less demanding. But no matter how much you bend, no matter how much you give, it’s never enough.

What is it about you that’s so unlovable?

“I’m sorry, you know,” Simon murmurs, taking a long drag from the joint.

You blink, your head feeling light, detached, like you’re floating just above the surface of yourself. The words come slower now, softer, like you have to pull them from some faraway place.

“For what?”

You hear yourself ask the question, but it feels distant, like it’s not really you speaking. The world around you is muffled, like you’re wrapped in cotton, the sounds, the lights, all muted. Simon’s face swims in your vision, and for a moment, you focus on the way his lips curve as he exhales, the smoke curling lazily from his mouth. You watch it drift up, swirling in the air between you, and it’s almost beautiful, the way it moves, weightless and free.

Simon glances at you, his eyes half-lidded, bloodshot, but there’s something in his gaze—something that makes you feel a tug of recognition, though your mind is too foggy to grasp what it is. He takes another drag, slower this time, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft.

“You know what.” He hands you back the joint and you take it, and you inhale deeply, the burn in your lungs calming your nerves.

“Then why’d you do it?” 

He hadn’t even tried to hide it this time. You heard the story from someone else first, a smug, offhand comment meant as a joke. Simon, with his arm slung over your shoulder, laughing along like it was nothing, like you weren’t standing right there, feeling the ground crumble beneath your feet.

“I was drunk as fuck ‘cause they kept bringing shots after shots after shots, and she took advantage of that like you wouldn’t believe. That’s what those girls do, and shit, I wasn’t the only one they got like that—Ben, Jake, Alex, Teddy too, I think.”

All of them in relationships, one to be married in two weeks, one with a baby on the way. 

Disgusting.

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Simon furrows his brow, turning to you, confusion flashing across his face. “What do you mean?”

You shake your head, unable to look at him directly, your gaze fixed on the joint between your fingers. “Going through life, knowing nothing is ever your fault,” you murmur. There’s no anger in your tone, just a tired sort of resignation, like you’re saying something you’ve known all along.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffs. “Nothing’s ever been easy for me. I fucked up royally, yeah, I get that, but it wasn’t my fucking fault. I didn’t even wanna go to the damn club, but Alex wouldn’t stop begging, so I gave in.”

“You see?” you say, your voice quiet, but firm. “You’re fine as long as Alex was the one who made you cheat. It’s all good ‘cause the stripper took advantage of you, right?” You can hear the bitterness in your own voice.

“You don’t need to change or grow, ‘cause, what’s the point, your parents fucked you up anyway. It’s your boss’s fault your coworkers complain about you, it’s the cops’ fault that you got a DUI, and it’s my fault that you resent me.”

You watch Simon’s face as the words sink in, the flicker of defensiveness in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens.

“And I know that deep down you really do believe all that.” You pause, staring at him through the thick fog clouding your mind, your body sinking deeper into the concrete. “So, I guess my question is…why even bother with me anymore?”

“Baby…”

“No, I’m serious,” you say, cutting him off, but there’s no fire in your voice, just a dull weariness that matches the slow pulse of your heartbeat. “Why? Why keep me around when you could be happy, doing what you wanna do, without me holding you back?”

Simon sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t be happy without you.”

“But I’m not enough for you,” you whisper, tears inadvertently filling your eyes. “I’ve never been enough. Despite trying everything in my power. I’m not enough for you.”

Simon doesn’t answer right away. He takes the joint from your hand, inhaling deeply, staring at some distant point in the darkened parking lot. The quiet stretches, thick and uncomfortable, and for a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all. But then he finally sighs, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to buy himself more time.

“What do you want me to say?” he mutters. “You know I’m not always good with words or expressing feelings and all that shit…but you’re wrong. You’re everything to me.”

He hands you the joint and you shake your head, a mirthless laugh bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, that’s why you fucked a stripper and had unprotected sex with me right after. Do you hear yourself?”

He exhales exasperatedly as he leans back, palms pressed against the cool concrete. “It’s not– it didn’t mean anything,” he says, his voice defensive. “It’s not like I’m looking for someone better than you.”

“Then why?” you press, your voice shaking now. “If I’m so important to you, why do you keep lying and sneaking around? What’s the point?”

He sighs again, louder this time, like he’s tired of this conversation before it’s even really begun. “I don’t know, okay? I get restless sometimes. I’m not…thinking when I do it.” His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that makes your heart clench. “It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you. I’m really not, baby. And It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

His hand tightens around yours, grounding you in the moment, and for a second, you almost feel comforted.

Almost.

But then, like a flash, the memory hits you—sharp, vivid, paralyzing.

The pain shoots through your wrist all over again, that awful, sickening crunch echoing in your ears. You’re back in the ER, the blinding white lights overhead making your eyes burn, your head pounding as you sit there, staring at the sterile walls. You’d made up some story, but the nurse looked right through you, her eyes filled with pity.

You remember how you sat there, waiting, your body aching but your mind empty, not even able to cry a single tear. Just numb. Completely detached from yourself, like you were watching it all from the outside.

You remember the young doctor, the one who stitched you up. His voice was light, conversational, doing his best to distract you from the deep gash in your wrist. He told you about how his daughter had just started kindergarten that day. How proud and terrified he and his wife were, how they’d taken a hundred pictures of her in her little backpack. How she was such a happy, bright girl, full of curiosity and excitement.

You could barely listen, but you remember the way his voice softened when he said, “I just hope she always knows how loved she is.”

That was the part that stuck with you.

The way his voice cracked just slightly when he said it, like he was imagining all the ways the world could break her. How someone could end up hurting her like someone hurt you. And as you sat there, the needle pulling your skin back together, all you could think about was how far away that feeling was—how you had no idea what it felt like to be that loved, that safe.

You swallow hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. “You’ve said that before, you know. When you drove me home from the hospital.” Your voice is soft, almost too quiet, but the accusation is there.

Simon stiffens. His grip loosens slightly, and you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it’s the kind of guilt that runs shallow, just skimming the surface. His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hand away.

“I thought you were over that,” he mutters. 

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure,” you say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You hold out your hand to him, the small scar visible on your wrist, faded but undeniable. “Totally over it. Look, it’s almost like it never happened.”

Simon’s face falters as he hesitates, then takes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as though trying to erase it with that simple touch.

“I wasn’t right that night,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on your hand before you pull away. “You know I’m not…I wasn’t right.”

You chuckle and take the joint from him. “Yeah, I know.”

He’s silent beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you again but doesn’t know how. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with unspoken words, but you don’t look at him. Instead, you take a slow drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Simon says quietly.

You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. You smoke in silence, absentmindedly rubbing over a faded bruise on your leg.

“The past few months were nice, weren’t they?” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I mean, we were fine, right? You were happy?”

You nod, exhaling slowly as the smoke leaves your lips. “I was happy, yeah.”

“Then let’s go back to that. I don’t wanna fall asleep without you in my arms again.” He moves closer, his hand reaching for your chin, gripping it gently, so you’ll look at him. His eyes are wide, pleading, the same look he always gives you when he’s trying to pull you back in. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Which time?

“Hey, I mean it.” He turns your head back, his grip tighter now. “I’m trying to be better for you, I really am. Just…tell me what you want me to do to make it right and I’ll do it. Anything.” 

“You know, I never wanted you to become a better person for me, Simon,” you say softly, removing his hand from your chin, and letting it fall to his side. “I wanted you to look in the mirror, and realize that you’re a fucking asshole, and change for yourself. I wanted you to realize you’re turning into the very man you always told me you’d rather die than become.”

He stares at you for a moment, then shakes his head as the mask he so carefully wears is slipping. “You love doing this, don’t you?” he mutters. “Pushing, prodding, trying to make me feel like shit.”

You curl your arms around your legs, pulling them close to your chest, your voice calm. “If the shoe fits…”

“Oh, really?” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re so much fucking better than me, don’t you? Well, let me tell you this, princess. You’re not as fucking perfect as you think you are, and if you think other people can’t see that, you’re hallucinating.”

“I don’t think I’m perfect, Simon. I wouldn’t be here if I did.” Your voice is softer than you intend, like the weed is suppressing your strength to yell. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Then why the fuck are you here if you hate me so much?”

“‘Cause I’m an idiot.” You bring the joint to your lips and inhale deeply. “I’m an idiot who can’t let go. ‘Cause I still think you could be better if you just tried. If you stopped listening to your friends, if you stopped drinking, if you stopped blaming me for every shitty thing that’s happened to you in the last five years.”

He’s shaking his head before you even finish. “I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And your solution is to just up and leave without telling me where you are? Very mature.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t talk to you, Simon. Every time I try, it’s like I’m talking to a wall.”

“You could talk to me if you actually wanted to,” he snaps back. “But it fits your narrative better when you can storm out, make your big scene, and go enjoy your little power trip. That’s what you do, right? It’s easier than actually being a grown-up and talking things out with me.”

“You’re delusional,” you mutter, brow furrowed.

“I’m delusional?” Simon’s laugh is hollow, his eyes flashing. “Yeah, right. I think you’re the one who’s lost it.”

You feel the words leaving his mouth before he even says them, the familiar sting of what’s next, and it’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. “Like you’re any better than me. Look who the fuck’s talking. Her mother’s daughter.”

There it is. The blow he always lands when he’s desperate to hit you where it hurts.

It’s his ace, the easiest way to throw you off-balance, to bring you down to the level where you feel vulnerable and he can control the conversation again.

You feel an old pain rising to the surface, but instead of letting it show, you smile. It’s not a real smile, but a small, knowing curve of your lips, the kind that hides everything you refuse to let him see. You’re not taking the bait this time.

“She had to go to the hospital again,” you murmur, your eyes on the joint as you bring it to your lips for one last drag. Then, you stub it out on the curb, watching the ember fade. “Thanks for asking.”

Simon’s face falls, the sharp edge of his anger crumbling away. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“Oh, you know,” you cut him off with a casual shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Why didn’t you–”

“‘Cause you were balls deep in a goddamn stripper, Simon,” you interrupt, your voice cold and flat. “I can’t rely on you.”

His face twists in frustration, but his eyes soften, and if you weren’t as high as you are, you’d see the little lines of guilt written all over his face. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, his hand hovering for a second before he gently rests it there.

“Baby, you know you can rely on me,” he says softly. “We have our problems, sure, but I always have your back.”

You roll your eyes, but he presses on, his voice earnest. “Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not true.”

Your eyes meet his. You know exactly what he’s referring to.

That one thing he holds onto as proof, as his trump card, the one time he truly came through for you when it mattered most. The time you thought you’d lose everything. If it’s not your histrionic mother he uses against you, it’s this.

“You can’t hold that over my head for the rest of my life,” you say, your voice steady but sharp. “You don’t get to help me when I need you most and then throw it in my face every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

His hand falls from your shoulder. He knows you’re right, but he doesn’t want to admit it. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m agitated. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He shifts uncomfortably beside you, his fingers twitching in his lap as he glances away. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, hesitant. “Is she gonna be alright?”

You nod, but there’s no relief in it. “Mhm.” 

There’s a long pause, heavy and suffocating, like an unseen barrier between you two. The night air is crisp, and your bare legs peeking out beneath your skirt are starting to get cold. Simon breaks the silence first.

“Baby, look at me. Please.” 

You blink slowly, your eyes struggling to focus as everything around you starts to blur. The edges of Simon’s face seem to dissolve into the night, his features soft and indistinct, almost like he’s not really there. But you find him again, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his disheveled hair. He looks…lost. It’s rare to see him this vulnerable, this unsure.

How beautiful.

“Can we go home?”

You don’t hear him, not really. All you hear is the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoing in your ears. It’s distant but persistent, a steady pulse that reminds you of things you’d rather forget. Then, a disembodied voice, calmly announcing that, “This could have been prevented. This is your fault.”

The words float through your mind, circling, wrapping tighter and tighter around you.

“Baby?”

You try to focus on Simon’s face again, but it’s hard to think, hard to find the words. Everything feels slow, muffled, like you’re moving underwater.

“I have to go,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, like the words are slipping away from you even as you say them.

He tenses up immediately, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘go’?”

“It means I’m tired, Simon. It means I can’t do this anymore.”

The silence that follows is deafening, like the world has suddenly come to a standstill, waiting for the inevitable fallout. You can practically feel Simon’s frustration pulsing off him.

But as you tilt your head, your gaze wandering over his face, the familiar lines of anger are there, yes. But beneath that, hidden in the set of his shoulders, in the way his hands rest uncertainly in his lap, you can sense something different. Fear. Real fear that this time, you might actually mean it. That this time, you might actually leave.

He doesn’t say anything as you stand up, your legs trembling beneath you, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. The world spins around you, dizzying, your vision blurred, and you stumble. Instinctively, Simon reaches out, steadying you with his hand.

But you shove him away immediately, your skin burning where his fingers brushed yours. You can’t let him touch you right now. If he touches you, you know you’ll crumble. You know you’ll fall back into his orbit like you always do.

And you may just be unable to afford that anymore.

But then, like a shadow moving through the haze of your high, Simon is suddenly in front of you—close, too close. His presence is disorienting, his words pouring over you before you can even process the distance he’s just closed.

“You don’t mean it,” he says, low and sure, like a statement of fact, as if he’s already decided this for you. His eyes lock onto yours, and it feels like you’re sinking into them, the pull of him as strong as ever, like gravity. He knows how to make you feel small, like your words hold no weight next to his certainty.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the tenderness in his voice makes you shiver, even though your mind screams for you to stay strong. His words wrap around you, weaving through the cracks in your resolve. His face is so close now, his breath warm against your skin, and you can’t tell if it’s the weed or the way he’s looking at you, but everything feels…slower. Softer. Like you’re slipping into a warm, dangerous comfort.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you? Yeah, I messed up, I know I did. But don’t let this ruin us. We’re too good together for that.” His voice is so gentle, hypnotic…irresistible.

“Simon…”

He steps even closer, the space between you disappearing as his hands find yours. His touch is warm, grounding, and despite the cold night air biting at your skin, his presence feels like shelter. He squeezes your hands softly, and your heart stumbles over itself.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he whispers, pleading. “Don’t walk away from us. We’re not perfect, but we belong together. You’re my family, baby. You’re all I have in this godforsaken world. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I matter…like I deserve love.”

It’s incredible, really, how easily he can break you down, how he can strip away all your defenses with just a few words. He knows exactly which buttons to push, how to weave his need for you into something that feels like love, something that feels like safety—even though you should know better.

He sees it, too. He sees the way your resolve falters, the way your eyes flicker with that familiar softness, and a satisfied smile curls on his lips. He knows he’s got you. He always knows when he’s won.

“C’mere,” he says gently, his hands sliding up your arms, pulling you toward him, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you let him. You let him hold you, let him wrap his arms around you like a protective shield against the world.

Your body sinks into his, your cheek resting against his chest, and you can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Each beat is a rhythm you’ve known for years, one that’s soothed you through your darkest moments, even as it’s caused some of them. His scent wraps around you, familiar and intoxicating, like the remnants of a home you’re desperate to return to. You let yourself drown in the warmth of him, in his steady presence that has helped you through so much. His hand strokes the back of your head, his touch soft, soothing.

It’s messed up how right it feels.

How comforting it is to be here in his arms, even when your heart is breaking inside.

“I love you,” Simon whispers again, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so fucking sorry. But you’re all I have, babe. I need you.”

You close your eyes, biting back the sob that threatens to escape. His words seep into your skin, and you want so desperately to believe him. 

You love him. God, do you love him. Even when it hurts. Even when it breaks you. And right now, with his arms around you, you miss him so deeply it feels like a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t want to be without him. He’s the only thing that’s ever felt like family to you. The only person who knows all your scars, all your flaws, and still pulls you close.

“I need you too,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s the truth, as ugly as it is.

Simon holds you tighter, his arms enveloping you, and for now, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it. Into the warmth of his embrace, into the way his hand rubs slow circles on your back like he’s trying to erase all the hurt, all the broken pieces between you.

You let him tell you he loves you, let him soothe you with his words, let him promise you the world, even though deep down, you know you’ll both end up in the same place again.

And before you know it, you’re slipping into the passenger seat, the door closing behind you with a soft, final click.

“You okay, darlin’?”

Joel’s voice pulls you back, the deep rumble of his question cutting through the fog of memories clouding your mind.

You blink, taking in the familiar interior of his car, the hum of the road beneath the tires, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating his profile. The past feels too close, too heavy, pressing on your chest like you’re still stuck in it. But Joel is here, real and solid next to you, grounding you in the present.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, your voice a little rougher than you mean for it to be. “Just tired.”

You see him glance over at you, concern evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t push. Not this time. He’s trying his hardest not to pry, not when he knows you need space. He just nods and keeps his eyes on the road, his hand resting on the gearshift, close but not touching.

“We’re almost there,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle, steady—so different from the frantic beat of your heart.

You nod, staring out the window at the darkened streets passing by. It’s quiet this late at night, and the drive back to your place feels longer than it should. The weight of the past few days lingers like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of your mind, making it hard to breathe. 

You can still see Laura’s hand on her bump, the way her sad eyes looked at you like you were in the wrong. You can feel Simon’s arms around you, the way he pulled you in even when you should’ve pushed him away. The way you couldn’t help but let him.

But you’re not that person anymore. This is different. Joel’s different.

Your stomach churns, a wave of nausea rising so suddenly it feels like the world tilts. You grip your bandaged hand tighter, shift in your seat, trying to breathe through it, but the sensation intensifies. You can taste the bitterness of the meds in your mouth, the stress squeezing your chest like a vice as cold sweat starts spreading on your skin. The movement of the car only makes it worse, and you know what’s coming.

“Joel…” you manage, your voice strained, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Huh?” His head snaps toward you, eyes widening with concern as he sees how uncomfortable you are. “Shit. Hang on.”

Without hesitation, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and scans the street for a place to pull over. It’s late, but the road is still lined with parked cars, neon signs glowing from nearby buildings. Finally, he spots a small gap along the curb. He turns on his blinker and slows down, smoothly guiding you toward the side of the street.

You fumble desperately with the seatbelt, your fingers trembling and uncoordinated as nausea hits you like a wave. Before you can manage it yourself, Joel leans over, his hands quick but gentle as he clicks the seat belt free. “Here,” he murmurs, and the moment the belt retracts, you’re already reaching for the door handle.

The second the door is open, you lurch out onto the sidewalk, the city air thick with petrichor from the short downpour that made you leave the beach earlier. The nausea hits hard, and you bend over, retching violently onto the pavement. It’s mostly bile, bitter and burning in your throat, and each wave of sickness feels like it’s tearing through your body. You grip the door for support, your hands shaking, your body trembling from the sheer force of it.

You hate this. The vulnerability, the pain, the utter helplessness of it all.

Joel moves quietly, reaching into the glove compartment for tissues. He doesn’t crowd you, just watches carefully, his expression tight with worry. He’s there, but giving you the space you need. After grabbing the tissues, he steps out of the car, making his way around to the back. You can hear him rummaging in the trunk, though your focus remains on trying not to accidentally cough up your lungs. 

“Goddamnit,” you choke out, your voice strained as another wave of nausea forces the last of the bile from your body. It burns, raw and painful, your whole frame trembling as you lean over. Joel is next to you, hovering, trying to be there, but keeping his distance. 

“I hate this,” you whine dramatically, your head pounding as you try catching your breath. 

Once you feel like the worst is over and your stomach is settling, you straighten up and look at Joel through watery eyes. He’s smiling at you sympathetically, taking a step closer to wipe your mouth and chin with a couple of tissues.

You’re about to tell him not to touch you, but the concentrated look on his face and the deft but gentle motion of his fingers put you in a trance. He’s cleaned your mouth and wiped away your tears before you could even say anything.  

“Do you remember how hot I looked in that short red dress?” you murmur, furrowing your brow at the unexpected pain coming from your sore throat. 

“Yeah, how could I not?” Joel chuckles as he opens and hands you the water bottle he had waiting for you in his back pocket.

“Good,” you nod before swishing a mouthful of water, and spitting it out onto the concrete away from you. You take another sip, letting it cool your throat before you cap the bottle and look into Joel’s eyes. “I want you to think of that really hard and forget everything you just saw, okay?”

He just smiles at you, touching your shoulder with his warm hand. “Sweetheart, you’re vastly underestimating my attraction to you. You think a little puke’s gonna deter me? If you weren’t in pain, I’d kiss you no problem.” The way his eyebrow automatically twitches makes you roll your eyes. But it also warms your heart. 

“You’re disgusting,” you say, trying your hardest not to smile. 

“Says the girl who wiped snot off my face and kissed me while I was sweaty and gross after rolling around in bed with a fever. Guess we’re both disgusting, then.” 

“Hm,” is all you manage to get out, a tiny smirk on your face, but it falters just as quickly as you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up again. 

“No, no, no, please, no,” you murmur, terrified, clutching the open car door for dear life. Your body tenses up, desperate to avoid another wave of sickness. You can’t do this again.

“I’m right here,” Joel whispers softly, his hand coming to rest on your back. He begins rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle and steady. There's a hint of helplessness in his voice, as if he wishes he could do more, but knows this is all he can offer right now. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You focus on his hand, the warmth of it cutting through the cold sweat covering your skin. The nausea grips you, but Joel’s steady touch draws you back, grounding you. Your breath steadies, and when the sickness passes, you focus on the warmth of his hand, his touch comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

You’re usually not one for people being around, let alone touching you, when you’re vulnerable like this. The only time you’d allow anyone to get this close is during sex. But that’s different. Especially with Joel.

No one else gets to do the things he does with you. Not that you’ve ever admitted that to him.

He’s seen you at your most unguarded—tied up with your ankles behind your ears, covered in sweat, drooling, crying, bruised from his hands, begging for release, and confessing all the depraved things you’d let him do to you if he’d just finally let you come. He’s seen you laid bare, stripped down to nothing but raw desire and submission. And in those moments, there’s nothing but trust and desire between you two.

It’s freeing. Being able to let go of your body and mind so completely.

But this?

The idea of Joel witnessing you vomiting bile on the side of a dingy city street while your hand is bandaged, your face contorted, and your body shaking like you’ve been dragged through hell…

Not good. Especially after what happened.

You don’t know how to navigate this new territory with him, and the last thing you want is for him to see you weak like this. Not when you’re already feeling fragile.

You’re embarrassed, your cheeks burning from the humiliation of it all. You know this moment will haunt you on sleepless nights when your mind drags up every cringe-worthy memory. But right now, there’s an unexpected comfort in knowing he’s here.

“I think it’s over,” you say quietly, almost afraid to voice it, half-expecting your body to betray you again just because you dared to say it out loud. But it doesn’t. The nausea ebbs away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. It’s over.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just take your time. Don’t rush it.”

You inhale deeply, drawing in the cool night air. The city smells faintly of petrichor and there’s a soft hum from the distant traffic, cars rolling by on the nearby streets. It all feels surreal, like the world is far away from the small bubble you and Joel are in.

The steady circles he traces on your back continue, grounding you further. You let your eyes close for a moment, soaking in the calm of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, not looking at him.

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed in worry. “You got nothing to be sorry for. Do you think you’re okay to go on now?”

You nod and swallow hard, the sting in your throat making you wince. You manage a weak, half-hearted smile, though the world still feels off-kilter. “Yeah, I think so. But if I start dry-heaving again, just do us both a favor and push me out of the moving car, okay?”

He smirks, his lips curling in that familiar, teasing way. “As if I could ever deny you something,” he says softly, his humor not quite hiding the concern in his eyes. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.”

He pauses, like he wants to say more, his mouth opening slightly as if searching for the right words, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you carefully as you make your way back into the passenger seat, waiting until you’re settled before gently closing the door behind you.

You lean your head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a heavy blanket as you continue your way home.

The words are there, inside you, loud, persistent, trying to break free; but you can’t. Where would you even start? What’s the point in revealing more of yourself? What good could come from it?

Nothing. That’s what.

Nothing.

You watch the city lights blur outside the window, your thoughts darker than the night. Your life feels like it’s crumbling, piece by piece, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold on. And once again, you know—deep down—it’s your own doing. It always is. No matter how many times you try to make things right, it always ends up the same way.

When Joel finally parks in front of your apartment building, the car idles quietly, and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You can feel him looking at you, trying to find the right words. You don’t move, your mind still preoccupied with your own self-doubt.

“We’re here,” Joel says, a soft smile on his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but you’re too far gone, too lost in your own spiral. When you don’t respond, his smile falters, but he presses on, determined to lift the weight between you.

“I was thinking…” he begins, his voice light. “I could cook for you tomorrow if you’re up for it? I remember I owe you a nice dinner, and no, it’s not just frozen pizza this time. It’s a frozen pizza with a side salad.”

He grins, hoping to coax a smile out of you, some kind of response. But you don’t laugh. You don’t even crack a smile.

Joel clears his throat and shifts slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. He’s trying to pull you out of whatever hole you’ve fallen into, but you can’t meet him halfway. You don’t have the strength.

He looks at you, his heart sinking as he takes in your sad, distant eyes. It’s like you’re not really here, like you’ve drifted somewhere far away, unreachable. How he wishes he could climb inside your mind and pull out whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you, take the burden for himself.

“Darlin’?” he repeats softly.

You blink, refocusing, but the smile you give him doesn’t reach your eyes. “Hm?”

“Can I cook for you tomorrow? You could come over to mine after work, or I can come here. Whatever you prefer.” There’s a hopeful smile on his face, a softness in his gaze, and the way he looks at you, almost like a puppy waiting for a treat, makes your stomach twist painfully.

You remember the dinner with Tommy and Maria, cursing yourself silently for agreeing to go. It’s not that you don’t love them—you do—but the thought of sitting through that dinner, of having that conversation with Tommy, feels like a nightmare.

“I can’t tomorrow.”

Joel’s smile falters the slightest bit, but he remains undeterred. “How about Saturday? I’ll plan something nice for us. Something I know you’ll love.”

Oh no.

You want to say it so badly it physically hurts.

You’ve been better, haven’t you? Over the past year or so. You’ve tried—really tried—to keep your cool, to express your feelings in a healthy way, or at least something close to it. You’ve worked hard to stop falling into that old mentality where uncomfortable emotions make you feel cornered and you end up lashing out. You’ve made progress. 

You’re not the same person you used to be. He’s not Simon. You don’t act like this anymore. You’ve outgrown this. Don’t do it. Don’t say–

“You’re free on a Saturday?” 

Joel blinks, the confusion clear on his face. “Yeah, like always when I’m not working,” he says, unsure where this is coming from.

“Oh,” you murmur. “Would’ve thought you already had plans with your, uh…with Jan.”

How subtle.

“I’m not planning on seeing her again,” Joel says simply.

You glance at him. “You should probably tell her that. Didn’t really seem like she knew when she was fondling you under the table.”

Joel exhales deeply and shifts slightly, turning his body toward you, trying to make sure you hear him. “I did tell her, and she does know,” he says firmly. His gaze softens as he looks at you, his voice gentler now. “Sweetheart…I’m not gonna pursue anything with her. And I wouldn’t have agreed to the date if I’d known it would hurt you.”

You shake your head, not wanting to let the conversation go where it’s headed, your thumb rubbing over your wrist brace. “Can we please not talk about this right now?” you murmur, your voice tight, barely holding it together. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Thank you for driving me home, I’ll see you– “

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Joel interrupts, his voice firm. “We had a good time, but that’s it.”

You blink, furrowing your brow and tilting your head slightly as his words begin to sink in. He watches you, waiting for your response, but when it doesn’t come, he shifts again, trying to close the distance.

“Hey,” Joel says softly, reaching for your left hand, his fingers gently wrapping around yours. He rubs your skin with his thumb, more to soothe himself than you. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

He searches your face, waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But you just sit there, unmoved, your expression frozen in place. There’s no relief, no anger, no hint of anything. Just…nothing.

The silence stretches, and Joel’s heart sinks. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Maybe he thought you’d smile, maybe he even hoped you’d fall into his arms, that this would be the moment things would start to feel okay again. But you’re distant, your face unreadable.

His eyes scan yours, searching desperately for something to hold on to, and what he finds hits him like a punch to the gut.

“You don’t believe me.”

You meet his eyes for just a second longer, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips before you nervously look away and whisper, “Look, I’m, uh– I’m extremely tired right now and this close to crying, so I’m gonna go upstairs and call it a night, okay?”

But Joel doesn’t let go of your hand. His grip tightens, just a little, his voice strained. “You really don’t believe me. You think I’m lying to you.”

“I don’t– Can we please do this another time?”

“I’d love to, but I feel like it’s important that we–” 

“Joel.”

“–get this sorted out, so you don’t–”

“Joel, please.”

“–keep on thinking I’m a liar. I didn’t know you thought that ab–”

“Jesus Christ,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration, “don’t you hear what I’m saying?” Without waiting for a response, you push open the car door and step out, the cool air hitting your skin. “I can’t fucking do this right now.”

The door slams shut behind you with a hard thud, cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.

Joel watches you for a moment, taken aback, then quickly follows, stepping out of the car. His eyes are full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you pace, but his voice is calm, steady, trying to reach you.

“Darlin’, I do hear you,” he says, taking a cautious step closer. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it right now, I just…”

You spin around, exasperated. “You just what?”

“I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Why in the world wouldn’t I be?”

He opens his mouth, trying to form a response, but before he can say anything, you cut him off, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.

“But it doesn’t even matter, okay? It doesn’t matter if I’m fine or not. I don’t have time to think about it.” Your voice cracks slightly, your throat constricting as you try to keep control. “Because now I gotta get to bed, so I can go to the office early tomorrow, ‘cause afterwards I’ll be sitting at a table with Tommy, who probably fucking hates me now. Do you have any idea how much that fucking sucks?”

Your voice lowers, the vulnerability creeping in despite your efforts to hold it back. “What if he…doesn’t want me in his life anymore?”

Joel shakes his head, vehemently. “Darlin’, that’s nonsense. He’s not mad at you. If anything, he’s mad at me. And I’m sorry for not asking you first, but you gotta understand that I was worried about you and thought this was the best solution.”

“Oh sure, yeah,” you scoff, bitterness lacing your words. “You know so much fucking better than I do. That’s it, right? Yeah, of course. Don’t you get how fucking weird this all is? It’s exactly what I was afraid of. You all talking about me behind my back, pitying me, judging me, and figuring out that you’re better off without me. That I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m not able to give you what you want.”

Joel hears the panic in your voice like he did yesterday, the way it’s rising, how your words are becoming more frantic. He gets the sense you’re not hearing him anymore, not really. You’re caught up in your own head, lost in the whirlwind of your fears. His mind flashes back to Tommy’s words. He can see it now, the way your frustration, your hurt is morphing into something darker, more overwhelming.

God, how he wishes he could just pull you into his arms right now. Hold you, protect you from the weight of everything that’s crushing you. But he knows, deep down, that he’s part of that weight. 

No matter how good his intentions might have been. 

“That’s not what happened at all,” Joel says, his voice calm, measured, even though his heart is racing. “We didn’t talk about you like that. I just needed Tommy to help me figure out where you might be, and I’m so glad he did. It was nice…sitting with you, holding your hand…”

You shake your head. “Good night, Joel.”

“Look, I– I know you’re going through something right now that makes you think I’m insincere,” he blurts out, “but I need you to know that I’m really just trying to help you.”

Your body stiffens, his words hitting a nerve. “I don’t need you to help me,” you snap. “I don’t wanna be your little damsel in distress, that’s not who I am.”

Joel flinches at the bite in your words, but he doesn’t back down. “I know that. And that’s not how I see you. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.” He pauses, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand.

“But allowing help from the people who love us isn’t about being weak or incapable. You may not see it right now, but I’m on your side. And if anyone’s weak it’s me, ‘cause I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this.”

You sigh deeply and murmur, “I’m gonna go now,” your voice flat as you turn toward your apartment.

Joel steps forward cautiously, not wanting to push too hard, but he can’t just let you walk away without saying more. “I get it, it’s all too much. But please, just…don’t shut me out, okay? Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll be here.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his promise, but you’re too drained to respond. All you can do is nod.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice full of regret. “I wish I could take some of this off you, make it easier somehow. But I’m not leaving, alright? Not now, not ever. ”

You nod again, your throat too tight to speak, and turn away, walking toward your apartment. Joel watches you go with his hands falling uselessly to his sides, his heart heavy, knowing there’s so much left unsaid, but hoping—praying—you’ll let him know when you’re ready.

Wow, well done.

Sitting on your sofa, you stare blankly at the black TV as the silence of your apartment settles around you, your mind already starting its cruel commentary.

That’s for sure going to make him think you’re a mentally stable person. No, seriously, why wouldn’t he want to be with you?

The thought twists inside you like a knife, but you can’t help it. The voice in your head is relentless, mocking your every move, dissecting your behavior from earlier.

You think you’re slick, don’t you? Pushing him away so you don’t have to face your feelings. Aren’t we way past that?

You sigh deeply as if that would quiet the storm inside you, but it doesn’t. Your self-reproach lingers, heavy and biting.

Still, you drag yourself to the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of the leftover pasta sitting in your fridge. It’s tasteless, going down like sandpaper, but you know you need something in your stomach before you can take the painkillers. Your body aches, every muscle tensing under the weight of the unresolved strain still coiled within you.

You wash the food and the pills down with iced tea, grateful for the cold sweetness, because water turns your stomach right now. The pasta, the tea, they’re just fuel—a necessary evil before you can move on and hopefully find some peace in your sleep.

After you’ve eaten, you strip off your clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over you. You stand there for a while, eyes closed, trying to wash away everything. Joel’s concerned face, the hurt, the frustration, the embarrassment of how you acted. You let the water pound against your skin, hoping it’ll somehow cleanse more than just the sweat and grime from the day.

When you finally step out, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more human. Still shaky, but better. 

By the time you crawl into bed, exhaustion drags you down like an anchor. You pull the blankets tight around you, hoping to find some comfort even though the dread of the day ahead lingers. Your phone is already in your hand, and you pull up Netflix, choosing something mindless to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The chatter of the show hums in the background, but your mind barely registers it.

Your eyes grow heavier with each passing minute, and the warmth of your bed starts to pull you toward sleep. Everything starts to blur as the fatigue takes over.

But then, just as you’re about to drift off, your propped up phone vibrates loudly against the bedside lamp. The screen lights up, a small notification appearing at the top.

Joel Miller.

Your heart skips a beat, a strange mix of relief and anxiety rising in your chest. You blink away the sleep and swipe the notification open.

It’s a voice message, and the length—four minutes—makes your heart sink. You’re not sure you can handle whatever it is he has to say right now. It feels too heavy, too soon.

Your finger hovers over the play button, your mind running wild with possibilities.

What if something happened to him? What if he’s telling you he doesn’t want to see you anymore? What if you scared him off for good? Why else would the message be so long?

Before you can spiral further, another notification pops up.

Joel: Sleep well, baby 😘 

You blink, staring at his message, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s being sweet. Maybe this isn’t what you’re bracing for.

You take a deep breath, your heart still beating a little too fast, and press play.

At first, there’s a small pause, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Then you hear his voice coming through the speaker, soft and gentle, the familiar rasp of it cutting through the quiet of your bedroom.

“Hi darlin’. It’s me, Joel…Miller…obviously.” 

Your smile widens. He’s such a dork.

“I know it’s late…and you’re probably already in bed. But I, uh…I wanted to say something. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I didn’t want you to go to sleep without hearing this.”

He sounds like he always does, calm, collected, but he’s being careful with his words. You shift under the covers, feeling more awake now, your body attuned to every note in his voice.

“I know you’ve been going through a lot on your own, and I don’t wanna make it worse by pushing or prying where I shouldn’t. But I just want you to know…I’m here. I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to handle it alone, okay?”

There’s a small pause, and you hear him exhale, like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding in for too long.

“I don’t know if I always say the right things, and God knows I’ve messed up plenty…but you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words right now. And I, uh, don’t expect you to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know if I do. But I wanna be there with you, figure it out together…if you’ll let me.”

Another deep breath.

“You’re never not on my mind, sweetheart, and I just…wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I felt it the first time I saw you, you know? You stood there, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And then you looked into my eyes. You looked into my eyes and that was it for me.”

Joel’s voice softens even more, almost like he’s afraid you’ll drift off before he’s finished. “I was thinking about Saturday, too. I got something in mind that I think’ll be good for both of us. Nothing big, just…I think you’ll like it.”

There’s a brief silence on the line as if he’s gathering himself, and then you hear it—the faint strum of a guitar. Your breath catches in your throat.

He’s playing for you.

His voice, low and gentle, hums the opening notes of a country tune you’ve never heard before. The sound drifts over you, warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket of soft clouds and something that feels like home.

You close your eyes, letting the music take you, and as Joel begins to sing, his voice carries a depth of emotion that reaches deep inside you. The lyrics flow, full of a quiet tenderness, and you sink into the sound, letting it wash away your troubles:

“I’m just a lonesome traveler, Drifting down this road, But darlin’, when I’m near you, I know I’m not alone.”

You just listen, your heart swelling with the softness of it, with the fact that Joel is doing this for you. Never in a million years did you see this coming. 

The song continues, the melody sweet and simple, his voice lulling you further into a sense of calm. It feels like everything else fades away—the weight of your past, the uncertainty of the future—and all that’s left is this moment, this gentle connection between you and him.

As he reaches the end of the song, his voice drops to an almost-whisper:

“But darlin’, when I hold you, I know I’ve found my home.”

The final note lingers in the air of your bedroom, and for a moment, you just lie there, your heart full, your body completely relaxed. You can barely keep your eyes open now, the edges of sleep tugging at you.

Still, you gather all of your remaining energy to text him back. You need to.

You: I’ll bring snacks on Saturday

You: Ever thought about switching careers btw? Cowboy boots, a hat and you’d make a fortune. Groupies, fame, rich old ladies letting you run wild with their credit cards…

You’ve barely pressed send when Joel responds. 

Joel: Groupies, huh?

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Another buzz.

Joel: Nah, sweetheart. My music comes from the heart. It’s only for the people I love. Not for anyone else.

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[liloinkoink]

hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….

1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid

2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.

3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid

4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.

5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh

6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron

anyway, if anyone gets this ask:

it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)

anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.

i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.

[meo-eiru]

What's ur inspo for art? ur art style is so cute... any art advice?? Jajsjdkkaka, I understand if u wanna gatekeep 👁👁

I meant to answer this several days ago but couldn't find it in the sea of asks welp

Anyway as I mentioned before we don't gatekeep art related stuff in this household, artists help other artists.

Honestly it's hard to name an inspo but I do have artists I look up to a lot (this might be a bit long)

Kanisuke, you guys might be familiar with her, she's the artist of the upcoming yandere inside game Yandere Town. I know it's not out yet but I'm actually obsessed with this game and have even translated all the character intros (they are a bit old atp so there might be some mistakes) and actually if you see a Yandere Town related post high chance it's from me. Not only her art but I love her writing style as well.

Hakuri-sensei, their manga Sachi iro no One Room is definitely one of my biggest inspirations. I love the relationship between Sachi and her "captor" and it's the only manga I actually cried my eyes out while reading.

Tayu-sensei, all of their work for Yuugen Romantica (one of my fav drama cd series) are breathtaking and they've also developed even more since then, their current works are just so stunning and I love studying the way they draw hair

Shirahama-sensei, she👏is👏a👏queen👏 honestly I don't have much to say, go read Witch Hat Atelier it's an artistic masterpiece and a giant love letter to art itself

Furumi-sensei, another queen! She's the artist of my favorite Fate Grand Order character Ashiya Douman. I've even bough her art books before, honestly she is just so talented. I don't know what she was drinking when she came up with Douman but I need some of it

Usagi Routo-sense, another fgo artist AND JUST LOOK AT HOW INCREDIBLE THEY ARE AT USING COLORS LIKE??? HOW??? Their art is like cocain for my eyes I could look at them for hours

AU, one more fgo artist and oh my god guys this person right here is one of my biggest inspirations just look at their drawings. I'm not kidding I actually spent hours just inspecting how they shade outfits. I'd sacrifice my soul just to get a chance to watch them draw live

☝︎ FAN, an Ashiya Douman fanartist and god guys the comics they draw!!! They are the cause of some of my current biggest fetishes ngl

Oyo-sensei, an fgo artist and is also the main artist of 18trip. They have such a clean art style that's very pleasing to the eye. I especially love the reference sheets they draw.

Shibatora-sensei, she is the artist of my FAVORITE drama cd series Shinai naru Thanatos and my overall favorite yandere character from any fiction Seo Eito. Honestly if you know me irl probably the first thing you'd mention about me would be my chronic Shinai naru Thanatos addiction because based on what everyone says I start speaking about it within 2 weeks of meeting someone new.

ORKA, the artist of A Stepmother's Marchen. Anyone who knows that manhwa probably knows why she's on this list, her art has so much soul and passion in it, literally every single panel looks like a painting and it makes me want to cry just looking at it

82 Pigeon, an incredible incredible Korean artist, I think they also give art lessons? I really tried to get them but couldn't figure out how. They also have a youtube channel and I learn a lot just by watching their speedpaints

[fluentmoviequoter]

We've Got Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!French/American!reader

Summary: You return to Los Angeles from France to visit your childhood friend Lucy Chen and find everything your heart has needed.

Warnings: fluff, r makes Tim a little nervous

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Come on!” Lucy groans. “I told you not to eat macarons when you can’t share.”

You smile guiltily and set the pastel pink macaron back on the hand-painted dish beside your phone. “Sorry, Luce.”

Lucy sighs, and a pang in your heart reminds you how much you miss her. She became your best friend during summers in America as a kid, but you haven’t had a chance to visit the States in too long.

“How’s policing going?” you inquire.

“As good as it can, I guess. Tim is still grumpy and finds something wrong with most of my decisions, but I’m learning.”

“You’re good at everything you decide to put your mind to, Lucy, and no matter what this Tim guy says, you’re going to be a great cop.”

“I think an éclair would make me a better cop,” Lucy replies with a dramatic pout.

“Éclairs au chocolate make everything better.”

“Boot!” someone yells in the background, causing Lucy to roll her eyes.

“Bye, Lucy,” you say. “Je t’aime.”

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t tease me with macarons and French countryside on all of our calls. But… I love you, too.”

Your phone screen changes as Lucy ends the call, and as you trace the paint on your plate with your eyes, you decide what to do. It’s time to visit your best friend.

You straighten your jacket as the U.S. customs officer looks through your bag. Your French and American passports sit on the metal desk as he lifts a wrapped Saint Laurent box.

“Uhm,” the man begins before mouthing a few words. “Contenu de cette…”

“I speak English,” you offer with a smile. “It’s a purse, gift for a friend.”

He nods and returns the box to your suitcase before he leans forward to zip it. “You’re free to go. Welcome to Los Angeles.”

“Thank you.”

As you pull your suitcases through Los Angeles International Airport, you smile. Your excitement to surprise Lucy increases as you near her police station, hoping to brighten her day.

“You’re  looking for Chen?” someone asks.

You look up from your phone and across the police station lobby. The officer is handsome - stern but attractive, which tells you he’s…

“Officer Bradford, I presume,” you reply as you stand. “I am. I understand if she’s busy, though. I can surprise her later.”

“Surprise? Oh, you’re the friend that lives in France.”

Your eyes widen in surprise that he’d remember that. When you nod, he turns and walks away. Left to stare after him, you shrug and pick up your bag. You have Lucy’s address, so you’ll wait for her at her apartment.

“Yes, sir,” Lucy says.

You stop and watch the doorway where Tim went, and when Lucy steps through, she freezes.

“No more French countryside in the background, as requested,” you joke.

Lucy gasps as she runs toward you, and you’re wrapped in a signature Lucy hug. You tighten your arms around her as she whispers how much she missed you.

“Napa’s not close enough to the French riviera for you, Chen?” Tim asks as she steps out of your arms.

“Oh,” you tut, shaking your head at him. “There’s no comparison, mon chéri.”

Tim’s lips quirk up as he tilts his head to the side. You ignore Lucy’s questioning look or her growing smile following your pet name.

“I know you’re at work,” you tell Lucy, “but I just had to let you know I was here.”

“Thank you! I’ll give you a key to my apartment and you can stay with me, okay?”

“Lucy, I can’t impose-“

“Forget I asked, I’ll get the key.”

Lucy rushes away before you can argue further, and you’re left alone with Tim again.

“Thank you for letting me see her,” you say. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I just didn’t want to hear her complain about missing you for another hour of patrol.”

You smile and agree, “Sure.”

“Uh, so, how long are you in town?”

“I’m not sure yet,” you answer with a shrug. “I came in on a one-way ticket.”

Tim nods, his fingers fidgeting along his belt. “Chen’s taking a while.”

“She is.”

After an awkward pause, Tim sighs and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Yes?” you encourage.

“If you need anything while you’re here, I could- could help you out. If you want.”

“And how would I be able to ask for your help?”

“I could give you my number.”

“What would Lucy think?” you ask quietly, smiling so Tim knows you aren’t saying no.

“Probably a lot.”

You laugh as you pass your unlocked phone to Tim. He types his information in quickly, then sends himself a text before he returns your phone, his fingers brushing yours.

“Here you go!” Lucy announces as she returns. “Make yourself at home, and I’ll be back around 7, after my shift ends.”

“Merci, amie.”

As you hug Lucy, you wink at Tim over her shoulder. A trip to Los Angeles was the right choice for more reasons than you thought.

“What’s mon chéri mean?” Tim asks as he and Lucy leave the station after their shift.

“I think that’s a question for the one who called you that, Tim,” Lucy replies. “Maybe you should take her out to dinner and ask all about it.”

“But we-“

“You’re terrible at hiding your vast emotional range, Tim. Call her.”

The next night, you meet Tim outside a restaurant of his choosing. After you gifted Lucy the YSL bag and a vintage band t-shirt, she repaid your kindness by letting you borrow a dress and helping you prepare for your date with Tim Bradford. Now, you laugh to yourself as Tim walks to greet you.

“Petit Trois,” you murmur. “You do know that taking a French girl to an American French restaurant is probably a terrible idea, right?”

“Probably. But the chef is French, and you’re the only person I know that can tell me if this is authentic cuisine,” Tim answers. “Unless you’re in the mood for American, in which case, there’s a McDonald’s down the street.”

“No, let’s try little three. If they don’t have éclairs au chocolate, though, you owe me a Frosty.”

Tim offers his arm, and you loop your arm through his as he leads you inside. The conversation comes easily, and between Tim, Lucy, and all of the good memories you have here, you’re beginning to wonder if you even want to return to France anytime soon.

“You met Lucy when you were kids?” Tim inquires after you order.

“I did. My dad’s American, and we spent summers in California when I was young. Lucy was the best friend I ever had, and we stayed close. Even after I moved back to France full-time.”

“What’s your favorite thing about France? Besides the pastries, of course.”

“The scenery, the slow and easy pace. It’s so different from America, but it’s beautiful.”

“It sounds amazing.”

“What about you? What makes California home?”

“The Dodgers.” You shake your head, and Tim offers, “Everything I love is here. It’s all I’ve ever known, and I feel most like me in Los Angeles, I guess.”

“That’s beautiful, mon chéri.”

Tim still doesn’t know what it means exactly, but he falls for you when you take his hand and call him yours. Everything that you love about France, what makes it beautiful and special to you, he sees it in you: your beauty, kindness, and grace. Lucy seemed to think something would happen between you and Tim, and, for once, he wouldn’t mind if she was right.

A week after arriving in Los Angeles, you’ve settled into Lucy’s guest room and have made no plans to leave. You’ve gone out with Tim, caught up with Lucy, and remembered why you loved summers in Los Angeles.

“Lucy,” you begin as you bake macarons together. “Can I ask you something?”

“About Tim?” she guesses.

“Not just Tim. I… I’ve been thinking a lot and I’m not sure I want to go back to France. Not for a while, at least.”

“Are you serious?” Lucy asks excitedly, dropping her spoon onto the counter. “Don’t say stuff like that if you don’t mean it.”

“So, you’d be okay with it? Me staying? I could get my own place or pay rent, whatever, but…”

“Of course, I’d love to have you here!”

“Do you think Tim will want to keep seeing me if I stay?” you ask softly.

Lucy lays her hands on your shoulders and smiles. “Tim feels exactly the same. He wants you to stay because he likes spend time with you. Maybe even more than that.”

“But, he-“

“No,” Lucy interrupts. “Trust me on this. You have to follow your heart. You taught me that when we were kids, remember? My heart couldn’t buy me a plane to France, but it was still good advice.”

You nod and lean forward to hug Lucy. “Merci,” you say against her shoulder. “I’ll follow my heart.”

Lucy pushes you back and points to the door. “Do it now.”

“The macarons,” you argue.

“I can finish them!” she replies. Then, she purses her lips and admits, “I can do my best.”

You assure her they’ll be perfect before you grab your bag and rush out the door. Your outfit feels incomplete without the jacket you like to wear over your tied shirt, but it’s the least of your concerns as you follow your heart straight to Tim Bradford.

“Hey,” he greets as he opens the door. “Did we have plans? I was just-“

“Je t’aime,” you interrupt breathlessly. “I love you, Tim. And I’m staying in the States because all that my heart wants is here.”

“Don’t stay just for me or Lucy, okay?” he says, stepping toward you. “Whatever you want-“

“It’s all here. I want to stay.”

Tim smiles and says, “Well, with all this time, maybe you can teach me how to make your first love.”

“Éclairs au chocolat?” you fill in. “Anytime, mon amour.”

“What are you calling me?” he inquires.

You lay your hand against his cheek and promise, “We’ve got time for you to learn.”

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[starlostastronaut]

SURPRISE TO GO

kim seungmin × reader - fluff, non idol au, coffee shop au, barista!seungmin - 1.1k

summary - seungmin spends his birthday working because his friends are busy. but are they really?

links - masterlist

yall i finally finished this. i forgot about seung's birthday and none of my drafts felt right so i wrote this quickly today. it's still 22nd in korea so i'm still on time. happy seungmin day! happy birthday my love! <333

no proofread and written in hurry. i hope you still enjoy and let me know your thoughts! <3

The bell rang above your head as you entered the small café. There were not many people inside at this hour. It was nearing the evening and the café was slowly going to sleep, people leaving and employees cleaning the emptying tables. You looked over the place, your eyes stopping at the coffee station. There he was, busy with preparing drinks and looking stupidly hot while doing it. Nope, focus, not the time for that now.

You felt it was a crime to make Seungmin work on his birthday, but volunteered anyway, when another barista called in that morning with food poisoning. When you asked why he did it, he just replied why not, the extra money was always worth it and his friends were busy anyway today.

Which was true. But not for the reason Seungmin thought. Ever since this morning, your secret group chat was blowing up with things going wrong. First the cake you ordered arrived damaged, then the restaurant canceled on you at the last minute… it was always something. Even now, you felt your phone constantly buzzing in your pocket.

You found yourself at a quiet corner table, where Seungmin wouldn't immediately see you from where he was and you took out your phone, dreading whatever catastrophe was awaiting you. Rolling your eyes at the chat name (seriously, who let Hyunjin name it?) you opened the messages.

SEUNGMINNIE'S BIRTHDAY BONANZA CLUB

sunshine baby sent a photo

sunshine baby: me and minho-hyung just saved the day!!

work of ART: wow the cake looks amazing lix

work of ART: me and changbin-hyung are almost done with wrapping the presents

work of ART: btw who's idea was it to do everything with pochacco paper? i hate that damn dog now he's everywhere 😭

devil bunny: stop being dramatic hyunjin you volunteered 🙄

DAD(dy): karaoke reservation for 7pm confirmed

DAD(dy): get your asses here and help innie with decorating

Oh. Finally some good news. You quickly responded to the guys, deciding on when to bring Seungmin to the karaoke. Checking the time, you realized you had about an hour left before Seungmin's shift ends and you need to somehow get him to the karaoke, where there is a surprise party waiting for him. Hopefully. But you trusted Chan that he can handle his six chaotic kids and nothing would go wrong again.

Deciding to make your presence known, you walked up to the counter. “Hey Seung,” you said, leaning your forearms on the counter as you checked the menu. “I'll have… whatever this is.” You pointed to the picture of this month's special drink, not daring to guess what was inside. But it looked big and complicated enough to hopefully fill some of the hour you had.

“Y/N.” Seungmin looked up in surprise, his lips immediately stretching into a soft smile when he saw it was you. He looked almost surprised to see you there. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see my favourite boy,” you smiled. “And because he's working today…” You looked up, your eyes meeting his. Looking into Seungmin's eyes was always an experience. His dark, deep, chocolate eyes held the stars of the universe in them and you often found yourself weak to the love you saw when he looked at you. Sometimes, it took all your willpower to not avert your gaze. It felt like a bright beam of the sun, blinding and warm at the same time. And you weren't backing now.

If Seungmin's coworker was here, he would have by now uttered some ridiculous comment about the very obvious tension and to get a room. Luckily for you, Jongho was cleaning up spilled coffee, facing away from you.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you,” Seungmin chuckled. What? Oh right, you were ordering a drink.

“Why not? It looks… fun?”

“It's disgusting as fuck.” Seungmin quickly looked around, letting out a relieved sigh when his manager was nowhere to be seen. “Our manager keeps coming up with insane things, but it went downhill after the first one. I'll make you your usual?” he offers instead.

You chuckled at his answer. He was the expert here. “Sure, thank you baby.”

Seungmin winked at you and began making your usual order. Moving away to not stand in the way but to have a good view of your boyfriend still, you leaned on the counter.

You loved watching Seungmin to do just about anything. He moved with practiced ease, knowing the steps by heart. If you woke him up at midnight and told him to do something, he would excel at it half asleep. He was calm, confident and always knew what to do. It was hot.

“There you go.” Seungmin slid your drink over to you and you smiled when you saw a cookie next to the cup.

“Is this the girlfriend privilege?” you laughed, carefully unwrapping the cookie and breaking it in half. You waited for when Seungmin was free again to call him over and feed him half of the cookie as he laughed and protested he's on the clock and shouldn't. As it turned out, bothering Seungmin was a great way to pass up your time and before you knew it, he was clocking out and offering his hand to you so you could leave together.

You led Seungmin to the karaoke, making up a lie about how you wanted to eat dinner together to explain why you weren't taking the usual route back to his and Felix's place.

“Karaoke?” Seungmin raised his eyebrow when you arrived in front of the building.

“You like singing and the buffet is great?” you shrugged, pulling him inside.

You made your way to one of the rooms, leading Seungmin into the darkness. “Happy birthday Seungmin!” the guys shouted as you flicked on the light, revealing your friends, balloons and gifts wrapped in matching wrapping paper and the cake Felix and Minho made.

While Seungmin stared in shock, you grabbed your present, lining up with the guys to congratulate him. “Thank you, Y/N,” Seungmin smiled as he received the box and you knew it wasn't just for the gift.

Later you watched him unwrap the presents with a glass of champagne in hand, enjoying his reactions to the gifts of all sorts. Sentimental ones, nice ones, and Minho's. That one deserved its special category, because the way he doubled over in laughter when he saw the shorts and couldn't show you for a solid two minutes, was something you very rarely saw. His eyes sparkled, barely visible with how much he laughed and that would forever be your favourite sight.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @hanjsquokka @starseungs @starlostseungmin @ivaneedssleep @bbybearcubbs @lakoya @rylea08 @caitlyn98s @oddracha @sweetbokji @feybin @qwonyoung23 @jiaaabbahng @hope69world @palindrome969 @alicedawitchbish @hyunjinshairband7 @nattisbored @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @kirakombat @kmgfeels @freyjhasdesiredreality @dazzlingjade @boldy-49 @naarmzz @rei-reia @cookiesandcreammy @urfavblondy @chlodavids @armystay89 @btskzfav @vegetablesarefuntables @tearzzuu @ch4nn13luv @kisses-too-the-moon @mellhwang @lolareadsimagines @missmajdastark @drewsandsebastianswife @mitchii @chillichillicrabcrab23 @laniminchanlix @dearly-somber @greyyeti @linosazuna @na-tas-post

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[atzloverr]

Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you

!!!TW: Yandere!!!

warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)

yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them

and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun

masterlist

Hongjoong

cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au

The most jealous of them all

Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him

Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen

Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.

Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.

It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.

When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.

He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.

You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)

Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.

What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.

Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something

You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.

The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.

He knew what you really needed, who you really were.

He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.

The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.

Seonghwa

cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace

Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere

Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you

He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.

As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way

And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him

One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.

Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.

You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.

Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.

No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.

That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.

You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.

You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.

He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.

He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.

After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.

You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.

He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.

He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life

He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.

As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.

He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.

But one night, you did.

Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.

Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic

Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.

He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.

So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.

The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.

Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.

He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.

Yunho

cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho

Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.

Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.

Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.

“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.

“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.

Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.

Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.

He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.

Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.

After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.

You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.

You were going on a date with him.

Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.

It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.

Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.

But not for Yunho.

He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.

As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.

One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.

“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.

You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.

“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.

“I’m not having this conversation—“

“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.

He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.

“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”

You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”

Yunho squinted slightly.

“You know what, yes, I do.”

You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.

“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.

“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.

You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.

You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.

“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.

You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.

“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.

“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You had a rough few days ahead of you.

Yeosang

cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional

His love for you started as a harmless crush.

Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.

It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.

He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life

You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.

He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.

He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.

Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.

He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.

One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)

You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier

“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.

He was surely crazy.

Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence

He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you

When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’

He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you

He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.

San

cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior

You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you

San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk

He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink

When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own

San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame

He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef

“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze

You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.

San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you

“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.

“Yes please,” you muttered out.

As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.

San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder

Oh how things were changed now.

Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk

He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.

San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.

He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.

San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.

He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.

What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame

His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.

When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.

“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.

San only smirked.

“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.

You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.

“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.

“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.

You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.

Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.

“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”

Mingi

cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy

Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school

You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just so lure you in to a mario kart tournament

You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill

Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.

He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else

At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend

But now he was sure it was more than that.

During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.

As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.

Well, that was, until now.

Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.

As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.

The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body was you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.

So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.

He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.

Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.

Because Mingi was the one.

He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.

Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?

One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…

No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.

“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”

Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.

“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.

You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.

“Yeah, I think he might be.”

You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.

You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.

“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”

Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.

You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.

He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.

You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.

You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.

You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.

He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”

After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.

When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.

“I love you.”

Wooyoung

cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation

Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost

Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you

Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.

Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew

Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond

That was, until you entered the picture

Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her

His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form

You were stunning

He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’

As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something

You were way too good for his best friend

Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.

Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.

It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you

He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him

You were just so much better off without his friend.

Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.

As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”

At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.

Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.

He happened to know his best friend a little too well.

One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.

You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.

He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.

He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.

Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.

After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.

He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.

When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.

Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.

While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend

He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk

Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.

“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”

As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise

Were you really seeing things clearly?

As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion

There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body

Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet

“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”

You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.

You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.

Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body

You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.

“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”

You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.

“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”

Jongho

cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior

The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them

As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on

You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe

He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.

“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.

“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.

The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.

The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.

You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.

“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.

“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.

You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.

After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.

You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.

Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.

Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.

When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.

He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.

Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.

He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.

And indeed, he did find you.

When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.

He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.

He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.

When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.

You didn’t look like yourself.

You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.

You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door

Jongho was at a loss for words.

This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.

With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.

What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.

After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.

After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.

Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.

So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.

He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.

“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.

He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.

“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.

“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.

You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?

“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.

You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.

The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.

“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.

The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.

You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.

“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.

You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.

Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.

Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.

“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.

“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“

A kiss.

That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.

When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.

His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.

“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.

“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”

Hope you enjoyed!!! Requests are open

masterlist

[luvyblossom]

Love Me (not) Part 6

Hello Lovelies,

Part 6 is a bit shorter but I hope you enjoy ^o^

I've also been looking for more writing inspo. So pretty pretty please sent me some skz requests. Let me know what you think about part 6.

xx- Luvy

Ps comment on the masterlist if you want to be included in the taglist

Genre: Friends to lovers, college au, jealousy, SMUT, some mutual pining, fighting/angst

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hyunjin x y/n, Felix x y/n (AFAB)

Warnings: This work contains content that is 18+. Minors DNI. Perv Hyunjin, intercourse, oral, masturbation, somnophilia and mild noncon, dom and sub (reader), Very minor self-depreciation/ insecurities

Let me know if I missed anything

Felix stepped forward, blinded by rage. Not only was this guy all over you all the fucking time. He was fucking coming out of your room. Did he stay the night? Did something happen between the two of you? All these questions raced through his mind as he punched Hyunjin square in the jaw.

He heard you shout his name in shock but rather than turning around he raised his fist again. He had to stop himself before he swung because you appeared before him, standing between him and Hyunjin.

"What the hell Felix?" You raised your voice, staring down your boyfriend. He had attacked Hyunjin out of the blue and for no reason. You felt Hyunjin's hand on your waist, trying to move you aside so he could return the favour to Felix.

Felix let out a dry chuckle as he watched Hyunjin's arm wrap around you. He looked at you, ignoring the man standing behind you, "I asked you if there was something going on between you two. I trusted you and you fucking cheat on me?" His voice got louder.

"What-"

He didn't let you finish and kept shouting "Why the fuck would you even go out with me. You like stringing me along?"

Hyunjin pushed you aside, "Watch how you speak to her," he warned.

"Fuck. You" Felix landed another punch on Hyunjin's face. Hyunjin reeled back, recovering from the blow and getting ready to hit back but you once again shoved between them. This time you faced Hyunjin, wiping a bit of blood that dripped from his torn lip.

He looked at you a smirk forming as you worriedly tended to him. He met your boyfriend's gaze, giving him the look 'she chose me.' Felix scoffed and before you could utter another word you heard the door slam behind you.

You turned away from Hyunjin, taking a few steps forward as if to chase after him but then you stopped. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel, wetting it with warm water and going up to Hyunjin who stood still, observing your every move.

He flinched as you dabbed at his lip.

"Hold this, apply pressure," you sounded robotic. Your movements were slow and measured. You walked back behind the kitchen island, opening the freezer and making an ice pack. You walked back to Hyunjin, wrapping the ice pack in a tea towel and holding it up against his jaw. You took the blood soaked tissue from him and moved his hand so he would hold the ice pack. The bleeding had stopped. You took some antiseptic cream from the side table drawer and applied a bit over the cut. Then you looked at Hyunjin, meeting his gaze blankly before moving to sit on the couch.

You felt the couch dip as Hyunjin sat beside you. "He's insane." When he didn't get a response from you he turned and poked your cheek. Usually that made you smile but not this time.

"What are you thinking?" Hyunjin asked moving closer to you.

"I don't know. Nothing I guess." it was the truth, there was so much for you to process that your mind chose to stay blank. You were still in shock over the situation, not sure how to feel about anything or anyone.

Hyunjin could see the stoic look on your face. His heart sinking as he realized this wasn't something you'd brush off. It mattered to you. He mattered to you. He placed his hand over yours, trying to melt you the way he usually did. To his dismay, you moved your hand away.

You turned and studied his face. His lip was swollen and his cheek had a bruise forming. "I think I need to be alone for a bit."

Hyunjin's face fell. He just nodded, got up getting his stuff together. Before he left he turned to say, "Please call me."

You sat, processing the morning, a reality show playing in the background in an attempt to drown out your thoughts. It wasn't working. You couldn't fathom what Felix had done. And what exactly did he think was happening? Did he think you fucked Hyunjin?

Your pulse raced as fast as your thoughts. You weren't sure what you wanted. Part of you was somewhat relieved, perhaps this would be the end of you and Felix and you wouldn't have to think about that 4 letter word that gave you anxiety when he said it. But the other part of you ached. You felt hollow and guilty. It scared you to think of not having Felix, you wanted him near. You wanted his soft kisses and that bright smile.

You picked up your phone hitting his contact. Straight to voicemail. You waited a gruelling 15 minutes, literally watching a timer tick down before trying to call him again. Voicemail again.

You grab your keys, rushing out your door with a mission. Your legs carried you with purpose and then, when you reached your destination you delivered a hard knock to the door. You heard shuffling and you were greeted by Minho. Before he could give you a sarcastic hello you asked, "Where's Felix."

"I don't know. You're his girlfriend shouldn't you know?"

You ignored his remark, "I'm waiting for him." Minho moved aside to let you in. You settled on their couch, a cat quickly finding you and settling onto your lap. "What are we watching?"

Minho shuffled over begrudgingly, silently scrolling through the netflix catalog.

"You really aren't friendly," you stated as Minho sat silently next to you. The comment made him smile, despite him trying to hold it back.

You laughed watching his reaction. "I want to watch Twilight," you announced.

Minho rolled his eyes, "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's stupid," Minho replied sounding childish.

"Have you seen it before?"

"No."

"Well then you can't possibly know if it's stupid or not." You quickly grabbed the remote from him, selecting the movie.

Minho groaned but pretty soon he was into the movie. You each sat with a cat on your lap, yapping away about the absurdity of the movie and Jacob's horrible wig. You had started New Moon when you finally heard the front door open.

"I'm home," Felix shouted as he turned into the living room. He stopped when he saw you, a frown decorating his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" you had to gulp your feelings down. Felix had never looked at you like this. His looks were usually soft, admiring and made you feel fuzzy. This look made you feel sick. You took a deep breath collecting your words, "we need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? I think I saw all that I needed." Felix doesn't let you say anything else. He rushed to his room door slamming behind him. You were now alone in their living room, Minho had slipped away unnoticed.

You got up and knocked on Felix's bedroom door. When he didn't open the door you just knocked harder until you heard shuffling. He opened his door just enough to poke his head out. You were a bit angry still but you had to admit he looked cute. You wanted to kiss him so you leaned forward planting a soft kiss right on the tip of his nose. Felix's eyes blew up in surprise and the angry look he was giving you melted away. He let out a sigh, opened the door and stepped aside gesturing you in. You sat down on the corner of his bed.

"Say what you want to say," Felix said, avoiding your eyes.

"I don't know what happened this morning. What is wrong?" Your voice remained steady as you watched him carefully.

Anger spread across Felix's features once again, "Are you fucking kidding me? Here's what happened. I saw a man that is extremely possessive of you and known for sleeping with anything that moves come out of your bedroom in the morning. In the morning when he was supposed to have been over the night before. So that means he stayed the night. I'm not stupid Y/n."

You finally understood what his reaction was about. It was understandable although you thought that he could have talked rather than punching Hyunjin. "It's not like that Felix. Him and I have a completely platonic relationship. Nothing happened."

"I doubt that," Felix said bitterly.

Now you were angry, "do you not trust me?"

"I don't trust him," Felix said.

"He has nothing to do with this. He's my friend, and has been for far before I met you. I would never cheat on you, or anyone and there is nothing between us I don't know why you're so insistent on that. You have never once before this communicated that you have an issue with Hyunjin and my relationship and then you come in and fucking attack him for no reason."

"You're worried about him?" Felix was shouting.

"Of course I'm worried about him. I fucking love him." You stopped, realizing what had slipped past your lips.

Felix just looked at you. Hurt highlighted in his eyes as he heard you speak the words that he had so desperately wanted to hear, except it wasn't for him.

"I mean as a friend Felix. Not like that." You were pretty sure that was the truth. You loved Hyunjin as a friend. You always had and you weren't allowed anything else.

"I think you should go."

You weren't sure what else you could do. You left him alone.

A few moments later Felix heard another insistent knock on his door. "I don't know what else you could possibly have to say to me-" he realized it was his roommate.

"You seem disappointed," Minho observed.

"No I'm not. I just thought that maybe she had come back." He was disappointed. He wanted her to be here, even though he really didn't want to see her again. She always made him have such complicated feelings.

"What happened?" It was rare that Minho pried like this, so Felix was a bit surprised at his line of questioning.

"Nothing. I just don't think it'll work out between us."

"Really? Hmm, I liked her for you."

Felix let out a frustrated sigh, plopping down in his gaming chair, "I like her too."

"Is it because of her 'bestie' " Minho emphasized the word with air quotes.

Felix just nodded before going on, "she just told me she loves him before leaving. I think it's kinda hard for a relationship to recover from that."

Minho frowned, "I heard the rest of what she said. She said he was just a friend. And I don't usually vouch for people but she's good and the cats really like her."

"He is so obviously not a friend. Even if she doesn't know it yet, he's definitely trying to keep her for himself."

"So you're going to let him win?"

----

"Hey Y/n" Chan welcomed you at the door.

"Is he home?" you didn't have to say his name, Chan always knew who you came for.

"In his room."

"You know there's other people that live here," Seungmin shouted from the living room.

You flashed him a smile before jogging up the stairs and knocking on Hyunjin's door. You heard a faint come in.

Hyunjin sat at his desk, painting something. He turned when he heard the door open. A warm smile spreading across his face. The smile quickly dropped when he saw your tear stained face.

He took you in his arms, pulling you close to him, pressing your face to his chest. His hand found it's way into your hair and he ran his fingers through it soothingly. You melted into his chest, letting the tears flow again.

He held you for a while, letting you cry for a bit before taking your face in his hands so you would look at him.

"You know it breaks my heart when you cry," he said wiping the tears from your face using his thumbs. "What happened?"

"Felix and I are over," you said it just above a whisper, tears falling freely.

Hyunjin felt relief, joy even that he wouldn't have to worry about Felix in your life anymore. The feeling lasted only a second as he heard how broken your voice sounded. He had never seen you this sad over a breakup before. He had never seen you even sweat a breakup before, you usually didn't give two shits when things ended with whatever loser you chose to give your time to. But now you were in front him, crying over a guy who didn't deserve you anyways. Hyunjin's heart sank to a deep pit in his stomach. He felt pangs of hurt, maybe because you were hurting.

He set his feelings aside. He truly couldn't stand to see you so miserable. You cuddled back into his chest, he felt comfortable and warm and you needed it as you processed that you had lost Felix.

Hyunjin led you to sit down on his bed, taking a seat next to you and taking you into his arms once again. Your tears had stopped, you felt soothed wrapped up in him.

"You were too good for him Y/n. He's not worth all your tears,"

"I wasn't. He loved me." It hurt to realize that his love would be gone. It had felt like a burden but now it felt like whatever chance you had at love had gone with him. He was wonderful, and he loved you the way that you were. You should have just loved him back. You hated yourself for not falling as fast as he had.

Hyunjin broke through your thoughts, "I love you."

You let out a sigh, "it's not the same Hyunjin." You looked up at him with a small smile to reassure him that you were okay. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't, he let his heart sink deeper.

"But you didn't love him back."

"I think I could have. If I had more time," you feared that whatever chance you had at love had gone with Felix. He was perfect for you, the best fit and the most feelings you'd felt for a man after... You didn't finish the thought.

You took a deep breath in. Ready to move on and try to not focus on what could have been. You took Hyunjin's hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, "what were you painting?"

Hyunjin described the scene from a movie that he thought was beautiful. He spoke about the background and what made the scene perfect for him to paint. He talked about what techniques he could use to bring it to life. He talked about all the things that made him love it but he left out the part where he loved it because he saw how you smiled when you had watched that exact scene. And as he talked, he held you close, fingers laced with yours. Holding you close, worrying about how much of you he may have lost to Felix. You were hurt, more than he expected you to be. But you chose him in the end.

________

This is an original work. I do not permit the republishing of this work in any form including translations.

© LuvyBlossom

Taglist: @mimihwang248 @meeeds @lixiespick @fangirlnation @chartrucewhore @karmakalesposts @stayatinykatsy @cauliflower-baguette seungminindabuilding isagerada

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Epilogue

As summer fades, the ghouls settle in further. New friends and relationships blossom, and a new band performs their first ritual in the local village.

Rating: M Content: possessive behavior Words: 4812

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Not bad for a fic that was meant to be 5 chapters and about 15k words… this was supposed to be a quick little fic that I wrote before moving on to write the longer soulmates AU I’ve been planning since around March! 

As I think I've mentioned, this isn't the end! This was always supposed to be a Raindrop fic, and so Swissalps's story will be continued in a sequel. I'll be dropping the first chapter shortly, and I have a special invitation for it if anyone wants that in their ask box! message me or reply if you'd be interested?

I can't let myself get too sappy here or it'll end up longer than the chapter itself. But thank you to everyone who's been so lovely about this fic in replies or reblogs (especially looking at @everybodyshusband @cosmicseafoam @jazz-bazz @0-miles-away @papaslittlesunshine @ligovskaya @midnight-moth @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan and anyone who's AO3 username I haven't correlated to a tumblr blog yet!), I wouldn't have stuck with this so long without you guys 🖤🖤

Read below, or on AO3!

The weeks passed, the summer fading further every day. With the final harvests nearly all brought in and the trees painting themselves in a hundred shades of amber and gold, autumn was finally upon the Abbey. No amount of dulling of the colours of nature could dull the passion of Rain and Dew’s relationship however, even as they found themselves slipping into a routine. For the Abbey’s fire ghouls, it was all hands on deck to help keep the grain dry, yet amidst his busy schedule Dew still found ample time to luxuriate in him and his pack’s safe and comfortable new home. Most importantly though, he thought, he had time to spend with his m– Rain.  

Dew had to stop himself for the thousandth time from thinking of Rain as his mate. To him, the rituals were practically complete. Having passed on his amulet, he had opened his heart and shared his soul. For Rain though, he knew they were only at the end of the first step of the many that comprised a water ghoul's courting ritual. They had many months left before Rain would have completed his side of the tradition; the next step being gifts that were less about being pretty, and more practical gifts for their future together. Dew had no way of knowing that Rain was already hard at work on that front; taking advice from his new pod of water ghouls on the best kinds of kelp to harvest from the lake here, and the weaving patterns that would create the softest possible blankets from it. Dew was happy to wait for Rain however; even if it took millennia, he would wait for him. 

As the weeks passed for Dew and Rain and their relationship grew both deeper and stronger, Swiss and Mountain continued to dance around each other, both backing out of making the final move at the last second. Their friendship had never been stronger, and with that came the higher pressure of what was a stake if their feelings were not reciprocated. 

Aether could see straight through their – at times – comedically oblivious behaviour. He had known Mountain for so many years now, and Swiss a great number too, that he could decipher the thoughts running through their heads just like reading a book. Seeing his pack couple off like they were doing could have made him feel lonely and jealous, he supposed. Considering his thoughts however, he couldn't find a scrap of negativity towards any of them. Really, he was just happy to see his pack happy.  

He had a fulfilling life; a pack, new friends around the Abbey. Aether had always said that he was happy alone, with no desire to settle with a mate. Admittedly, Mountain had said something similar when they first met, but Swiss seemed to have been an exception there. Over the recent weeks since Cumulus had properly introduced them, Aether had especially been enjoying getting to know Cowbell. The quiet ghoul's steady, timeless attitude felt grounding amongst the recent chaos of his life, and Aether could tell they seemed as delighted to have made a new friend as he was. 

Aether’s role in the infirmary was also going better than he could have expected. Astra had quickly seen how unnecessary any training she could offer him would be, and had set him up mentoring some of the younger quintessence ghouls. To his mild amusement, he had gained a small gaggle of quintessence ghouls who followed him around the infirmary like little ducklings, hanging on his every word and keen to lap up every scrap of knowledge he imparted. Aether found he enjoyed that side of his new role more than he had expected, and looked forward to teaching the younger ghouls each shift. 

With the Harvest Festival quickly approaching, one of the main tasks of the infirmary ghouls had been to prepare a supply of tinctures and remedies for the ghouls and siblings alike who would inevitably indulge a little too heavily in the Abbey’s famous blackberry wine. Due to his extensive knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs, Astra had delegated the task of organising this to Aether, who had grasped the extra responsibilities firmly. 

Before the festival however, came the one thing that was more exciting to the pack; Swiss, and Copia’s first musical engagement in the local tavern. Sunshine and Mountain were also heavily occupied now in rehearsals for it, the three ghouls – and one human – doing an excellent job of hiding their nerves from the rest of the pack. 

The pack was something else that had grown stronger at the Abbey, thought Aether. It hadn’t taken long for the five ghouls to begin to see the ghoulettes they lived their lives in such proximity to as more than just casual friends. Dew had clearly seen them as family long before the others had, but within the span of time they had been here the other ghouls also came to see them as an interwoven part of their lives. 

The ghoulettes, Cirrus and Cumulus in particular, had been referring to the new ghouls as pack, long before they were aware of it. The Den had become so much more crowded and noisier since they arrived, but none of the ghoulettes would change it for the world. The Abbey could feel large and lonely at times, and the constant presence of at least one member of the newly extended pack made everything feel cosier.  

Indeed, the concert – Aether still found calling it a “Ritual” to be laughable, although he would be happy to be proved wrong – was to be their first true pack adventure. The nine ghouls, plus Cowbell, Copia and several Siblings of Sin, were all planning to make the journey down the hill to support their leader’s latest passion project. Cowbell had offered to drive them in the large horse and cart usually used for their monthly grocery runs to the village, and as such the event was developing quite a party-like atmosphere. 

Even amongst the ghouls not attending, most either too busy or incapable of holding an adequate glamour, the day held excitement and novelty. There was a general buzz in the air throughout the Abbey, and it was riding this high that inspired most of the ghouls to finalise their remaining chores before the harvest festival the following day. 

One ghoul in particular who seemed to be buoyed along by the jubilant environment was a young, dark-haired fire ghoul. He was comparatively new to the Abbey, arriving some years after Dew left. Swiss was hurrying back to the Den, bringing armfuls of freshly-washed clothes from the laundry when the fire ghoul strode up to him with a self-assured, almost cocky, grin. 

“Good luck for tonight,” he purred in a low voice like treacle, reaching out a muscular arm to lay a hand on Swiss’ own bicep, “I’ll be at the festival tomorrow, if you want to get a celebratory drink together?” 

Swiss stood confused: he couldn’t remember ever speaking to this ghoul before, and certainly not in a way that would cause him to be so familiar with him. He hoisted the pile of clothes further into his arms, trying to think of a polite was to ask who he was exactly. 

“I, um…” Swiss trailed off, distracted by a low noise ringing in his ears. He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge it but to no avail: if anything, it seemed to be getting louder. A dark and earthy scent suddenly assaulted his senses, and he wondered if he was falling ill, or if he had been cursed or something. It seemed the fire ghoul could feel it too though, as Swiss saw the colour drain from his face, rendering his tanned, olive skin an ashy grey. His terrified eyes were fixed on a point above and behind Swiss, and he stood frozen like a deer caught in a ranger's torchlight. Swiss cautiously turned around, half expecting to see some kind of nether-worldly monster oozing out of the wall. 

All he saw was Mountain however, stood tall and stony-faced with a dark aura emanating from him. The added height of his antler-like horns meant he cut an imposing figure. His lip curled into a snarl as he growled again, and a new wave of that woodsy, almost possessive scent washed over Swiss. As much as it seemed to be scaring the fire ghoul, Swiss thought it smelled divine. He smiled at Mountain with a questioning head-tilt, wondering where this strange behaviour was coming from so suddenly. The Earth ghoul’s eyes were fixed on the fire ghoul however, who managed to unfreeze for long enough to stutter out a disjointed sentence. 

“I’m sorry!” He looked like he was staring straight into the face of death himself. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry!” 

With a jerk of his head, Mountain dismissed him, sending the terrified fire ghoul scuttling down the hallway as fast as he could run, his tail between his legs. Once he was out of sight, Mountain seemed to calm down. His expression softened, and the air around him seemed lighter again.  

“What was all that about?” Swiss asked, confused by the earth ghoul’s sudden black mood, and the even more sudden departure of the unknown fire ghoul.  

Mountain muttered something Swiss didn’t catch and started relieving him of the large bundle of black clothes in his arms. Swiss trailed back to the Den beside him, still utterly confused by the interaction that had just taken place. 

“Was I meant to know who that was?” He mused aloud. “He acted so familiar, yet I can’t remember him from anywhere!” 

Mountain almost dropped the clothes, as he doubled over and snorted with laughter, previous aggressive attitude long behind him now that he had the multi ghoul to himself again. Was Swiss seriously that clueless about the fire ghoul’s unsubtle actions? Ever since he’d known him, Swiss had been taking advantage of the humans’ proclivity for flirting with him, often reciprocating if he thought it would secure him more work, or tips and favours. He couldn’t think what would have changed now to make him so oblivious, unless it was simply that it was another ghoul, rather than a human? 

“He was clearly flirting with you, Snapdragon!” Mountain guffawed in disbelief. “Could you really not tell?” 

Swiss’s quizzical expression suggested that no, he had not been aware of that. Adding to his confusion was Mountain’s reaction: he seemed to be finding the fire ghoul’s actions funny now, but what had the growling and – he realised what it was now – scenting been about? The bounce in the taller ghoul’s gait could only be described as victorious, and he chose to file all the hope about why that could be away until after their performance tonight. That wasn’t a distraction he would allow himself today, not when Copia was relying on him. 

Swiss had a suspicion however – one he kept to himself – about why he hadn’t grasped what the fire ghoul was really suggesting, and it had everything to do with the earth ghoul trotting slightly ahead of him. He was self-aware enough to know his feelings for Mountain bordered on infatuation, and he figured that now he had become used to the intensity of those feelings that he had forgotten what anything smaller felt like. The thrill of attraction, or of a newly developing crush felt so insignificant now that they were dwarfed by the magnitude of his feelings for the earth ghoul. He only had eyes for Mountain, and the thought of anyone else thinking they stood a chance in the battle for his heart was laughable to him. Hastening his steps to catch up with Mountain, Swiss fell into step with him to revel in being by his side once again. 

Reaching the Den just before they did was an excitable Dewdrop. He burst through the main door, and then into the room he shared with Rain, brandishing a dull metal object. 

“Look!” He exclaimed to a slightly startled Rain lounging in their nest. “A horseshoe!”  

Rain could see that, although what he couldn’t see was why Dew was quite so excited about such a mundane object. He smiled at him with a questioning tilt of his head and waited for Dew to elaborate. 

“The humans do something with them at weddings,” Dew explained as he joined Rain on the bed, still clutching the curved iron shape, “something about them catching luck? I thought we could hang it on our door!” 

He held it out for Rain to examine, demonstrating how it could look like a vessel for capturing luck when held in a U-shape. Rain took it from him, and it really was just a regular horseshoe: slightly rusted and worn down from use. More interesting than the horseshoe though, Rain realised that this was the first time Dew had ever brought back something to keep for himself. He let Dew chatter on about needing to find a hammer and some nails, if they should think about painting their door before or after mounting the horseshoe, and what colour Rain would like if so, would he like teal? Rain nodded along, only half his mind on the conversation. The other half was preoccupied celebrating this relatively large step for Dewdrop; this was yet more proof that he was finally starting to settle properly and relax, putting down roots for himself and Rain, finally feeling a sense of permanence. 

“I got it when I went to see Cowbell just now,” Dew elaborated, “to check if they’re all ready to drive the cart down to the village tonight. They were just reshoeing the mare we brought with us from the village, so that means this shoe played a part in getting us out of there! It really is lucky!” 

Rain melted further. It was becoming increasingly apparent that deep down Dew had the potential to be an incredibly sentimental ghoul, and he couldn't wait to see how that continued. 

“It seems to be working so far then,” Rain murmured, holding it up, “I've had nothing but luck since you came back for me.” 

With that, he leaned in to steal a kiss; both the horseshoe and all talk of home décor soon being forgotten. 

The day seemed both to drag and pass all too quickly at the same time. Before they knew it, Swiss, Mountain and Sunshine were all dressed, and carefully buffing the metal masks that were a part of their outfits one final time. Copia had decided they added a nice touch to their costumes; the shining horns hinting at their ghoulish nature without actually revealing it. The whole Den was alive with excitement and nerves, the fervour growing as the light outside began to fade. 

Walking out to the front courtyard to meet Cowbell with the cart, Swiss proudly led the way with his guitar strapped to his back. This felt familiar, and more importantly it felt right; doubly so with Mountain by his side. Cowbell was leaned against the wooden trailer, as human-looking as anyone could remember ever seeing them before. They were smiling softly, although slightly apprehensively, as the pack approached. Behind the pack followed the Siblings of Sin, who had initially been keen for an evening out but now seemed to be regretting their decision. Swiss could smell the waves of alarm pouring off them as they got closer, none of them used to interacting with the ancient ghoul who lived in the stables. 

“Good evening, dear ghoul!”  

Copia greeted Cowbell as he bustled forward and hoisted himself up next to them at the front of the cart. The rest of them would be travelling in the back, even though none of them were particularly keen to be sharing the space. They had no choice however, and the Siblings dutifully lined up behind the crush of ghouls that were piling in and jostling for space on the narrow wooden benches. Rain and Dew happily squeezed themselves into a corner, and Swiss settled himself into another; Mountain willingly joining him and shuffling closer until their thighs were pressed tight against each other. There was eventually space made for everyone and with a jolt, the cart set off. The sudden motion and continued bumping along the cobbles of the courtyard threw Mountain even closer into Swiss. Even once they were onto the smoother path into the village, he remained plastered along Swiss’ side as the countryside flew by.  

It really was a beautiful evening, Swiss though as he glanced out at the trees and fields around them. The orange sunset cast its glow over everything, making the whole world look like it was on fire. Most vibrant of all however was Mountain; his auburn hair glowing in the light like it was itself aflame. With his large horns glamoured away, the russet glow was all that served to make him appear as otherworldly as he did. Swiss thought that the whole world around them could truly be on fire, and he would be happy to sit and burn if only to stare at Mountain for a second longer.  

They continued rattling down the hill towards the village, and Swiss felt a pang of longing when he spotted Dew with his head leaning on Rain’s chest; held against his front by the water ghoul's long arms. He wished he could be so casually affectionate with mountain, but he dared not. He wouldn’t allow himself to dream that until he had first concluded the hard part – making sure they really were both on the same page. He didn’t deserve such a reward without the prior work, he thought.  

All too soon they were slowing to a stop outside a wide stone building that was emitting a narrow stream of smoke from its chimney: the village tavern. The Siblings practically fell out of the cart, their instincts screaming at them to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. 

“Go, my Children, enjoy yourselves!” Copia laughed as they threw themselves towards the tavern door. 

The ghouls were only slightly more restrained as they clambered down and spilled into the building. Cowbell made no move to follow the others inside, instead staying next to the pair of horses, stroking one's nose. Aether paused, looking back at them. 

“You aren't coming in?” he asked, worried that the ghoul didn’t realise that they were welcome in too. Cowbell shook their head. They didn’t like crowds, especially human ones, as the noise and bustle were too much for their deeply ancient mind to handle. Despite that, the biggest thing stopping them now however was their appearance: Cowbell gestured to their feet, where Aether saw that their hooves were very much still visible. 

“My glamour’s incomplete,” they shrugged, “’m out of practice. It’s been centuries since I last used it.” 

One day, Aether thought, he would ask Cowbell just how old they really were. He suspected it was millennia. 

“Go inside with the others,” Cowbell smiled a wonky smile, “I’ll be happier listening out here anyway. Besides, I have company.” They stroked the second horse. Reluctantly, Aether followed after the rest of the rabble he called pack, throwing a final look back at Cowbell. They were muttering something in the horse’s ear while continuing to pet them. It sounded to Aether like they were speaking Infernal, a language only spoken in the pit, or so he thought. The horse didn’t seem perturbed though, and she whinnied happily at the attention. 

Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was jovial already. The large room was dimly lit, wood-panelled walls and supporting columns all stained dark with years of fire and tobacco smoke. Scattered across the panelling were a patchwork of lighter sections from recent and less-recent repairs. The only lighting came from lanterns that lined the walls and hung directly from the vaulted ceiling, as well as a small number of candles dotted on tables that lent a cosy and friendly air to the place.  

Better lit however, was the makeshift stage against the wall. It was slightly raised, simply built from a few wooden planks resting on crates, but it did the job. On the other side was the bar, its countertop polished as smooth as glass from generations of patrons leaning on it. Along its length were a line of stools with faded fabric covers, and the remaining floor space was filled with a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, scattering in increasingly private settings ranging from the centre of the room to corners almost entirely shrouded in darkness. 

Leaping lightly onto the stage, Copia looked resplendent in his robes, with his face painted black and white in the mimicry of a skull. Swiss thought he cut an imposing figure, when he wasn’t turning around to look at his ghouls with nerve-tinged excitement at least. The man stretched his arms out wide, the candlelight flickering off his bedazzled chasuble and truly making him look like the head of the dark church. 

Before long, the tables began to fill up with locals, intrigued by the talk of visiting musicians from the mysterious Abbey up at the top of the hill. Rain, Dew and the other ghouls not performing settled themselves at the table nearest the stage, Dew looking particularly excited and practically bouncing in his seat beside Rain. Swiss didn’t know what had overtaken him recently, but he seemed so much lighter and carefree now. He assumed it was Rain. The bustling crowd completely filled the tavern as the four musicians took their places on stage. Swiss caught Mountain’s eye once he was settled on the box he used as percussion. He saw the twin green flashes of his eyes behind his mask wink at him, silently wishing him luck. Swiss beamed back at him, his teeth glinting in the firelight through the bottom of his mask. With a final tune of his guitar, and another smile at Sunny, Swiss nodded to Copia and the man addressed the crowd. 

The ritual passed in a blur, and before Swiss knew it, they were leaving the stage to rapturous applause and cheers. As he stepped down onto the solid floor, Swiss had a large beer thrust into his hands by a grinning stranger. The jubilant atmosphere continued as the night wore on, the ghouls and their Papa swept up with the crowd, never finding their tankards dry. Even the ghouls who had not been performing seemed to be having fun, spending the local money Copia had given them to allow them to fit in and enjoy the night. The man himself was circling through the crowd, inviting anyone and everyone to the Abbey’s harvest festival the following night. His plan to spread their message was going better than any one of them could have imagined, and he had gained the interest of several curious village members.  

The noise and ruckus were proving too much for Aether however, and after a while of watching Dew and Swiss race each other to down their pints, he grabbed a pair of tankards and slipped out the door. Another musician had taken the stage, an accordion player, and Aether found Cowbell tapping along to the beat on the frame and iron wheels of the cart with two sticks like it was a drum kit. Aether chuckled as he approached. 

“Copia ought to make the band all wear floor-length robes, then you could join them!” 

Cowbell looked slightly sheepish at being caught, but their forked tongue slipped out as they smiled anyway. They joined Aether where he perched on some crates and accepted one of the beers gratefully. Apart from the rhythmic sound of one foot and one hoof tapping on the ground, they sat in a comfortable silence; two friends enjoying each other’s quiet, unhurried company. 

Back inside, Swiss could feel every drop of alcohol going to his head, and he thought Mountain must be feeling it too. The night was blurring together into a busy cacophony of singing, cheering and laughing. The one thing he could feel coherently was the constant, grounding pressure of Mountain’s hands on him. The earth ghoul had slunk across the tavern to join him, then barely let him go all evening, always keeping a hold of his waist or hip, or letting their shoulders press against each other. If their tails weren’t safely hidden away, Swiss had the feeling that they too would be braided together.  

In his fuzzy mental state, he wasn’t entirely sure what could have brought such behaviour on. The almost possessive twinge to it, like Mountain was trying to ward the humans off, was making his him feel even more floaty than the alcohol. Running on a high from the successful performance, Swiss couldn’t find the mental energy to really care about why Mountain was suddenly glued to him, he only cared that he was. He saw Rain and Dew similarly pressed together, and his inebriated mind let him convince himself that they could be the same, if just for tonight. 

Whoever was on stage currently seemed to know the audience well and was gradually convincing more and more of the tavern’s patrons to dance to the jig he played. The humans pressing close, swirling and stamping to the beat, swept the ghouls up in their fervour. Swiss soon found himself pressed closer to Mountain, dancing partners even without indenting to be, the pair clutching each other's arms for balance as they ebbed and flowed with the tide of the crowd. 

As the dance ended, Swiss fell against Mountain’s chest. The earth ghoul held him close while they both caught their breath and laughed at the exhilaration. For a while, they held each other and swayed to a slow dance only they could hear. Hearts beating in sync, Swiss looked up at Mountain to see him already staring down at him. His peridot eyes were at the centre of his vision, the only thing Swiss could focus on. They seemed to grow and expand to fill his field of view, and Swiss only realised that this was because they were getting closer together when the twin points of light blurred out of focus.  

Swiss’s eyes fluttered shut, and with his vision gone all his other senses heightened in response. He could feel Mountain’s breath against his face and could smell the sour note of beer in it, although he didn’t find that as off-putting as he supposed he should as he stretched up on his tiptoes to bring them closer still. Swiss felt rather than heard Mountain’s final sigh against him, before the soft yet insistent press of Mountain’s lips to his shook him like an earthquake. With all their prior hesitancy washed away by the free-flowing liquor, Swiss pressed back instinctually, throwing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and holding on like his life depended on it.  

Time meant nothing to the pair as they ignored the general ruckus of the crowd around them, and the chorus of whoops and cheers that Dew was leading. It was like all the background noise had faded away leaving only them stood in a world of their own. Before long, although it was really several hours at this point, Copia was desperately trying to shepherd his sleepy, tipsy ghouls and the Siblings into the cart to head back to the Abbey. They had a busy day tomorrow, he reminded them, as he had promised all the villagers that their little band would be performing at the harvest festival too.  

Slowly, they all stumbled out into the brisk night where Aether and Cowbell were waiting, three sheets to the wind themselves. Swiss and Mountain had managed to make it over the threshold of the tavern without separating, but getting into the cart proved more difficult. Breathing their own air for the first time in a while, they unsteadily clambered into the trailer, cramming themselves into a corner to continue where they left off, despite the jeers from the ghouls around them. 

“Even we're not that bad!” Swiss thought he heard Dew crow from somewhere behind him. 

Eventually, they had made the short trip back up the hill and were all bumbling back into the Abbey, still drunk off free beer and good energy. Kiss broken, Swiss continued to hold Mountain's hand as he pulled them into the Den and their room. He kicked his boots off, uncaring where they landed as they tumbled into bed, still giggly and touchy but both too tired to do any more than that.  

“Today was fun.” Swiss purred sleepily, as he wriggled in Mountain's arms. The earth ghoul was almost asleep already as he hummed in affirmation. Quickly, they fell into a deep, contented sleep. They could think about what the events of tonight meant for them in the morning. 

To be continued... 

[conundrumoftime]

My Haladriel fics

I haven't grouped all these together before, so here's a collection of all the complete Haladriel fics I've written so far since October '22. Cannot believe it's been almost two years!

(Some of these fics also feature Celeborn/Galadriel, Celeborn/Sauron or all of them together, because I like a) Celeborn b) multishipping and c) mess. I'll make it clear here which stories those are, so if Celeborn is not your guy or if multishipping confuses or distresses you then that's! fine! just please don't read those ones and then be weird to me about it in the comments.)

Multi-chapter fics

Shadow-Bride (E, 265k words): This is my long long longfic, started in December of '22 and now complete after 43 chapters. Canon-divergence from the middle of s1.

Banquets have burned for you (M, 24k words): Written for eastwynds for the spring '23 Haladriel fic exchange, where the prompt was "one thing happens differently on Númenor, and everything changes." Went heavy on the Greek tragedy influence for this one because it felt fitting for Númenor.

A man is a god in ruins (E, 21k words): At the time this was the longest story I'd ever written and the first multi-chapter story I'd finished since the LiveJournal days. How things change! Canon-divergence from the very end of s1; what if Halbrand decided to leave Eregion before Galadriel got suspicious?

All the kinds of alive you can be (E, 13k words, also Celeborn/Galadriel, also Celeborn/Sauron/Galadriel): so loads of us have written "what if Sauron shapechanged into Celeborn to seduce Galadriel"; this is "what if Sauron shapechanged into Galadriel to seduce Celeborn, because he's furious with her and obsessed with her and sort of wants to be her all at the same time"?

So Wide a Sea (E, 6k words, also Galadriel/Celeborn): After Sauron's final defeat in the War of the Ring Galadriel remembers a long-ago day on Númenor.

One-shot fics

Five times Halbrand's secret got revealed (T, 6000 words): the first Haladriel fic I ever wrote, of five scenarios of Galadriel learning his name. 'Shadow-Bride' is a continuation of one of these five; 'A man is a god in ruins' is the '...and one time it didn't.'

Tar-Mairon of the Shire (G, 3000 words): entire fix-it fluff, probably more '&' than '/', Hobbits make everything better including Dark Lords.

Tempered (M, 3600 words): written for @thecoziestbean for the spring '24 Haladriel fic exchange.

And white winter, on its knees (M, 1800 words): written for the Haladriel Winter Solstice '23, a what-if Galadriel said yes to Sauron's offer story.

Weakened like Achilles, with you always at my heels (M, 4000 words): written for Haladriel Week '24. A little moment after the Tirharad battle and before the volcano.

I have loved flowers that fade (M, 1700 words): they deserved to have at least one nice time in Eregion before she found out who he was!

Weighed Against Our Future (T, 1800 words): A delirious (or is he?) Halbrand on the road to Eregion.

Shine (T, 3300 words) and its sequel Lady of the Seas (E, 3700 words): Halbrand makes Galadriel's armour on Númenor.

Silver Queen (M, 3600 words): my first 'what if Celebrían was Sauron's daughter?' story, sort of a Haladriel fic and sort of a fix-it for Celebrían.

Civil Twilight (M, 10k words, also Celeborn/Galadriel): for Haladriel Week '23. A 'what if Celebrían was Sauron's daughter?' and 'what if Galadriel finds her missing husband?' story combined.

The turn of the tide (T, 1700 words): For Haladriel Week '23. In the Fourth Age after travelling back to Valinor, Galadriel still feels called to the sea.

Though I sang in my chains like the sea (T, 3000 words): For Haladriel Week '23. They were on that ep2 raft for a while; so this is a gapfiller of them getting to know each other better. Or not.

Blood Sugar (M, 7000 words): the only time I've ever done a modern AU, and even then it doesn't really count because he's still literal Sauron in it. Anyway: Glasgow, professional disillusionment, and difficult relationships with your history.

Ficlets under 1000 words

You built a nest inside my soul, you rest your head on leaves of gold (M, 800 words); Numenor alleyway smut.

How shall summer's honey breath hold out (M, 600 words): and why shouldn't Galadriel get to command an army and have a nice time with the enemy general while heavily pregnant.

Gilded (G, 550 words): another 'what if she said yes on the raft' fic

Not for all my little words (T, 775 words) s1 ep8, Elrond-POV on Galadriel and her weird new friend in Eregion.

Miscellaneous fics:

Half-Maia Celebrían short fics: Suo Gân (G, 1000 words), Arda Sahta (G, 1100 words), As Little Might Be Thought (T, 2600 words). All these are Galadriel/Celeborn (and the last one is also Celebrían/Elrond) and Sauron isn't really in them, but they're all about the impact of that being his child.

To hold all the promise of blue-velvet dark (T, 1700 words) - another 'what if Sauron impersonates Galadriel?' fic, this time featuring baby half-Maia Amroth.

Silmarillion rather than TROP: As certain dark things are loved (M, 8000 words, also Galadriel/Celeborn, also Galadriel/Celeborn/Sauron), for @softlighter for the Sufficiently Advanced '24 exchange. Annatar in 2nd Age Ost-in-Edhil.

[chukys-mouthguard]

total knockout -ax72

Current Mood: an NHL moodboard series

-> arber xhekaj- boxer au!

-> genre - angst/fluff/suggested smut

A week before the bout…

Any time Arber had a big fight on the schedule, it meant well over a month of training. The diet, the workouts, all of it had such an impact on not only him but you. Being the girlfriend of someone who literally punches people in the face for a living wasn’t always bright lights and heavyweight belts.

Majority of the time, you were going through it right alongside Arber. Sticking by his side despite times like right now when he wasn’t the sweetest or easiest to be around.

“Babe, please. I’m just trying to help.”

You let out a sigh as Arber groaned, tossing the bandage onto the bathroom counter as he retreated to your bedroom. He’d tweaked his shoulder in his training session and his coach was urging him to wrap it every night to help the healing process. Which meant you got to play doctor for the next week or so until he was feeling better. But, shockingly, you weren’t a doctor and your skills were lacking.

“It’s fine! I’ll just sleep without it tonight.”

His tone was harsh and laced with exhaustion, letting you know this wasn’t something you should take to heart. Though you normally didn’t, letting his comments or harsh tone roll off your back.

“Arber, you know what your coach said. Now come on, I’ll take my time and make sure I get it right this time.”

He smiled softly at you before stealing a kiss, taking your hand in his as he led you back into the bathroom for attempt number twelve at wrapping his shoulder for the night.

The night of the bout…

You’d only had a brief moment with Arber before you had to head to your seat. His mind focused on the task at hand as you watched him get his knuckles taped up and wrapped by his coach. Though he didn’t speak to you much, you knew how much he appreciated having you with him in these moments.

The way his eyes would occasionally meet yours, a wink would follow before he’d focus back on his coach. Once he’d gotten his pep talk he made his way over to where you’d found a spot in the back of the locker room. Keeping out of the way as you hated feeling like a burden or an annoyance.

“Hey baby.”

Your smile was soft, trying your best to not show your nerves, though Arber saw right through you. And the nerves never got any better, quite the opposite actually. The more and more he’d fight the more worried you became of injuries and the long term effects he’d face from this sport. But this was his passion, and despite your fears, Arber was quite good and could handle his own.

“Hi, you ready?”

Arber nodded as he stole a kiss from you, his taped up hands resting at your hips as he took advantage of the short moment he’d have with you before he’d have to bid you farewell.

“To go bash a guys face in? Hell yeah I am!”

He laughed as you rolled your eyes, his jokes one of the few things that could lighten the mood in situations like this.

“As long as it’s his face and not yours. Good out there and kick some ass. I love you.”

The morning after the bout…

Rolling over in bed, your eyes fluttered open at sunlight peeking through the blinds. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you draped an arm over Arber’s chest. Looking up at his sleeping figure you took in his battle scars earned from the night before.

Victory didn’t come easy for him; a cut over his eyebrow still bandaged up, bruises scattered over his face, with a black eye to finish off the damage. Your fingers traced over his features, careful not to press too hard and wake him, hating what this sport did to him. But seeing him hoist the championship belt the night before, the pure excitement and proof that his hard work paid off, made it a little easier to swallow having to see him so battered and bruised.

“Mmm”

Arber softly groaned at the feeling of your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand as you felt one of his reach out for you. His palm resting on your thigh as his eyes softly opened to look up at you.

“Hey baby, good morning. How’s the damage?”

A chuckle left your lips as you scanned his face, the cut above his eyes being the only thing that needed any attention.

“Not the worst, but definitely still not the best.”

Getting up you quickly went to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and some peroxide to clean his brow. Arber sat up and leaned against the headboard, assuming the position that had become a familiar routine the morning after fights.

As you returned from the bathroom you couldn’t help but notice the blanket now gathered at his waist. His chiseled chest and arms exposed as he patiently waited for you to play doctor and fix him up.

“Does it hurt?”

You asked the same question you always did, carful to remove the bandage and clean the cut on his face. Arber slightly laughing, as his answer never changed when you asked him the question. But he appreciated you worrying about him.

“Babe, I’m a big strong boy, I can handle it don’t worry.”

He flexed his biceps at you as he spoke, partially showing them off because he knew how much his muscles got you going. And he wasn’t wrong, your eyes trying to focus on cleaning his wounds versus staring at his arms that were calling out for your attention.

“If you’re trying to start something, it’s not happening. You’re all bruised up, don’t want to make any of that worse for you babe.”

You pecked his lips before wrapping up with tending to his wounds, moving to take the items back to the bathroom. But the feeling of Arber snaking an arm around your waist let you know he had other ideas.

You’d dropped the first aid kit items on the bedside table as Aber pulled you back into bed. Positioning you below him as he rested his arms on either side of your head, staring down at you with a smirk.

“Baby, I told you I’m a big strong boy. And you won’t do anything to make this worse, in fact-“

His lips found their place against your neck as he slowly trailed kisses across your skin, leaving a few quick bites in the process.

“I think all the things you want to do to me right now would make me feel so much better.”

[manygeese]

valgrace high school au bc I said so.

~*~

It was 7:30 when the football game started, and Leo was on a soda run- pink lemonade for Piper, sweet tea for Hazel, Monster for Nico, and Pepsi for Percy. Fanta for himself, of course. He was lucky enough to secure a spot in line before the demand for snacks skyrocketed, but unfortunately, that meant he didn’t have enough time to rehearse what he was going to say to the cashier.

Leo recognized the lady manning the register as Percy’s mom, the head of the PTA, which made his anxiety dissipate a little. There wasn’t another person on Earth as kind as Sally Jackson.

“Hi, Ms. Jackson.”

“Hello, Leo,” she said with the practiced ease of a veteran retail worker. “How can I help you?”

“Um. Pink lemonade for Piper. Sweet tea for Hazel. Monster for Percy and Pepsi for Nico? No, wait, Pepsi for Percy and Monster for Nico!”

Ms. Jackson laughed warmly. “Anything for you?”

“Fanta, please.”

“You got it,” she said with a series of finger guns. He surrendered Piper’s debit card to her for payment.

“Thanks, Ms. Jackson.” He tried to wave, but that was hard to do when juggling five soda bottles. When Ms. Jackson pointed out he left Piper’s card, he floundered for a second, trying and failing to make room to hold it. He gave up and just took it in his mouth, ignoring the kid staring at him incredulously as he left the line.

Finally, he plopped down on the bleachers next to Piper. She gave him a look. “Whatcha got there?”

“Ah gah da shodahs.”

“I didn’t mean the sodas,” she scoffed, reaching out to flick the debit card like one does with a ruler hanging off a desk. “I meant this poor guy.”

Leo spat it out into Piper’s hand, making her recoil in disgust. “Sorry, forgot I had that in there.”

Piper took out wet wipes from her purse as she complained about how gross he was. “Ew, ew, ew ew ew. You’re disgusting and I’m never giving you money again.”

“I’ll have you know that errand boy for a group of five is a very demanding career. I went to great lengths to get that pink lemonade, lady, so don’t judge.”

~*~

Paying no attention to the marching band when halftime started (or Percy’s heart eyes when he spotted Annabeth in the front with the other trumpets), Leo hopped over bleachers towards the fence that separated the field from the seating.

“Jason!” He called to his boyfriend, causing the blond in question to whip his head around.

Frank shushed him from his place beside the water cooler. “God, you’re louder than the trombones. Cool it, pipsqueak.”

“Shut it, man. Is your name Jason? No? Didn’t think so. Go back to chugging your boring ass water, you bitch,” Leo told the quarterback. He made a show of tucking a curl behind his ear like the love interest in a hallmark movie as her turned back to Jason. “Anyways, whatcha doing?”

Jason snorted, lacing his fingers through the fence. “I’m getting some boring ass water. What about you?”

“Oh, just going to see my wonderful boyfriend. The usual.” Leo pushed his hand through the fencing, trying to reach for Jason’s. Jason caught the hint and intertwined their fingers with a goofy smile.

“Lucky guy, huh?”

“Damn right he is.”

Frank gagged in the background.

Leo gave him a fiery stare. “Have you and Hazel looked in a mirror recently, Frankie-poo?”

“Only Haze can call me that,” Frank said after a second of embarrassing silence, turning a brilliant shade of red.

Leo looked back to his boyfriend, who had a lovesick grin plastered across his face. “Oh!” Leo shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, ripping his hand from Jason’s as he rifled through all his knickknacks for his target. “I got you skittles. I know you like M&Ms better, but they didn’t have any, so I figured these would do. If you don’t want them, it’s okay, Piper would kill for a bag of these-“

Jason cut him off with a chuckle and a soft look. “Thanks, babe. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, when in Rome.” Leo smirked as he tore open the bag and fed Jason a skittle (yellow, his favorite). “And by ‘when in Rome’, I mean ‘when you have access to Piper’s debit card.”

~*~

Leo whooped as their team gained 15 yards, but it turned into a yawn halfway through. Piper let out a tired chuckle as Percy followed suit. Nico was asleep on Hazel’s shoulder, who had only stayed awake this far to cheer for Frank. Piper was already discussing how to vandalize Nico’s arm (possibly his face if she was willing to face the wrath of hell) once Hazel finally succumbed to sleep.

It was the final quarter, and the score was nearly tied. Their team was one touchdown behind the other school, and unfortunately, they were still stuck towards the middle. There were 30 seconds left of playtime and one attempt left before they had to go on defense.

Leo only cared because he knew Jason cared. If they lost, their date tomorrow afternoon would be seriously hampered by leftover bad vibes. He whooped harder, making Nico open his heavy eyes and shoot him a deadly glare.

“Sorry, man. I’m high off school spirit and skittles. Hard to be quiet. You get it,” Leo mumbled, followed with a deliriously tired giggle. Nico just grumbled and scrunched his eyes closed again.

The ball was in play again, moving around between players so quickly that Leo couldn’t track it. The opposite team pushed theirs backwards, but one player had already broken the line with the ball, bolting toward the end zone. Player 05.

Slowly, Leo realized he knew that number.

05 was Jason’s.

Belatedly, Leo joined the cheering that erupted around him, clapping and jumping with Piper and Percy. Hazel screamed excitedly as Jason neared the goal, upsetting Nico until he recognized what was going on, at which point he let out a sleepy “hooray”.

Piper shook Leo by the shoulders when Jason made the touchdown, yards ahead of any player who gave chase. “OUR BOY WON THE GAME!”

Leo pouted as their score on the Jumbotron changed from 31 to 37. “Our boy? Pipes, that one’s mine,” he laughed with a winning smile, because, well, they just won.

“Same difference,” Piper shrugged, “but he did date me first.”

“Five days of marriage in kindergarten does not a relationship make,” Leo pointed out, having a rare moment of eloquence. His grin returned as he saw their team make the try. The red light on the scoreboard flickered to 38, with only 10 seconds left of play. “There’s no way in hell the others are making a touchdown now. I think we’re in the green here, Pipes.”

“Preach.”

~*~

Leo giggled as he and Jason stumbled through the darkness back to his mom’s car. She and Mr. McLean were lagging behind, while Piper charged bravely ahead with a slight lead.

Jason offered Leo his arm with a flourish when they came across the stairs. Leo brought a hand to his mouth, covering it as he giggled again, and took it. “How forward, Mr. Grace. How forward indeed.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” He chuckled, knocking the side of his head against Leo’s. “‘M so scandalous.”

“So scandalous,” Leo agreed, leaning closer and resting his head on the blond’s shoulder. “Such a bad boy. Good at football, though.”

Jason grinned triumphantly. “Glad you think so.”

There was a beat of silence before Jason spoke again. “Glad you came, too.”

“Of course, Jazzy,” Leo said as he squeezed Jason’s forearm.

“That’s a new one. But for real, Leo, I know you’re not too enthusiastic about sports, and I know you probably wanted to be somewhere else the whole game-“

Leo stopped climbing the stairs, feet on different steps. He pushed a finger onto his boyfriend’s mouth mid-word. “Shhhhh, sh-sh-sh-sh-sh, Superman,” he huffed. “I wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world. I had loads of fun tonight! Plus, I got to watch you in your element, ‘n stuff. It was so cool.”

Jason snorted, moving his hand up to grab Leo’s hand and take it. “I think I love you.” He blushed and continued to climb the stairs.

He didn’t see it, but Leo lit up behind him. “I love you too, Jason. When’s the next game?”

[rhondafromhr]

TGWDLM AU where Bill is the main character (below the cut because I rambled A LOT)

He becomes the guy who doesn’t like musicals after he spends all that money on tickets to the Starlight and sits through Mamma Mia and Alice doesn’t even appreciate it (by chance, they see the showing, like, the night before the meteor hits). Pokey then sets his sights on Bill instead of Paul—his hatred of musicals comes from a more emotional place connected to what he treasures most, which will make for a really compelling arc in the last remaining story to tell that Pokey just can’t resist. He also has a clearly defined want (connecting with Alice), so Pokey decides he makes a more suitable musical protagonist.

Little does Pokey know this is going to make things a huge pain in the ass for him. Bill can canonically snap out of Blinky’s control when he sees that Alice is distressed and in danger (Watcher World), so maybe this resistance could apply to other Lords in Black and give him a fighting chance in their apocalypses.

He gets to the school and “Not Your Seed” happens. He thinks he’s too late and he’s devastated, but it turns out Alice is just pretending to be infected to blend in with the rest of the hive so they don’t get her. In this universe, she wrote the song for one of her musicals (she writes musicals as well as plays in this timeline) and sang it because it was the first song that came to mind. It brings up a really uncomfortable, but long awaited conversation between them and they start working through their issues as they try to survive together. This culminates in them understanding each other and their differences better and learning how to play to each other’s strength (in sync, but very much individuals who only work so well together because of their differences, a foil to Pokey’s hive mind).

They manage to destroy the meteor like Paul never could. Bill’s declaration as they finish it off is: “I. Don’t. Like. Your. Musical!” He doesn’t want to say he doesn’t like musicals in general, because he’s trying to be more supportive of Alice’s interests. This is a final insult to Pokey before he’s defeated, because it’s way less dramatic than the actual line from the show and it ruins his grand finale. Even if Bill triumphed and he didn’t get his singular voice, he could have taken comfort in a big, theatrical conclusion with a grand, decisive statement, but Bill won’t even give him that because of his infuriating care for his daughter.

Also Bill is the regular at Beanie’s instead of Paul. Emma likes him because he’s one of the only customers that’s polite to her and he doesn’t make her sing. She doesn’t complain about making his caramel frappe, even though she’s totally the type of barista who judges you for liking sweet sugary drinks that are complicated to make. They bond over their struggles to connect with their families and give each other the best advice they can. He’s encouraging of her pot farm dream, even if he doesn’t understand it, but makes her promise not to sell to Alice because he’s worried about Deb being a bad influence and turning her into a hardcore stoner. When General McNamara asks if she’s a friend or if she’s something more, he replies, “No, but she’s important to me. Isn’t there more than one type of love?” This causes McNmara to wistfully remember a long lost friend (maybe Wilbur Cross) and agree.