#the neat fact that i had an ex who would make me feel so awful for liking ugly op charas and here comes bens to encourage me to draw charas

[venomroad]

I love youu Jeeesssuusss 🎵

[thenixkat]

Oh yeah, I finished the Blue Beetle 1986 run.

There was a bunch of stuff I liked. Like Ted's college roommate/bestie Takamoto. And Ted being a decent caring boss/willing to fucking throw down if you try to harm his employees. Giving ex-cons chances. Willing to look out for people's families and financially support them. And caring about homeless people (granted he failed to grasp the fact that he could infact do shit to help them).

Loved the choice to have Ted's Beetle Nest be right under the Kord Inc. building. And Ted's gods awful fashion choices, good fucking lords you have to actively try to pick colors and patterns that clash that badly. Also really like Ted with curly red hair, every other appearance of him in the DC universe should have curly red hair! It looks great and distinct.

Also the whole Ted vs Dan thing and Khaji Da being a mind controlling alien parasite trying to seduce Ted. The ending felt like a fucking cop out but most of it was fun and also Dan lasered a bunch of cops which was neat.

But there was also a bunch of stuff I hated. Like the unnecessary drama of Ted not telling his loved ones about his secret identity even when it became clear that it was causing issues. OG Ted didn't have those problems b/c he told his girlfriend/lab assistant which was hot new and spicey at the time narritively.

You could have had different more interesting drama with folks knowing! Imagine how the arc where Nixon banned superheroes b/c public opinion got turned against superheroes would have gone down if there were people who knew that Ted was a superhero? Like that fucking cop got to figure out Ted's identity but what did we get out of that other than Ted getting blackmailed by that cop to do dirty work for him?

There's a bunch of plot lines that never get resolved and as far as I know just don't get resolved due to folks not really caring about Ted's of solo run. Like, poor Mr. Calhoun does not get fucking rescued after he got horribly burned, forcibly mutated and given superpowers, then kidnapped and enslaved. I didn't see a single peep about Mr. Calhoun after the Titans told Ted to go home and things will resolve themselves eventually.

Just damn, free my mans Calhoun!

And like damn, no one at Kord Inc really thought about Jeremiah Duncan much after he got kidnapped by French people. And that doesn't sit right with me. Especially after seeing what Ted did for Angie and Calhoun when they were in trouble and even that ex-con that was trying to turn his life around. Like? The fuckle?

Also the entire ending of that run felt just ... that's both a downer ending and it didn't feel super in character. Like yer telling me Ted, Mr. 'Oh no my secretary didn't show up and didn't call out and this is very not like her I'm gonna drop by her house to see if she's ok' and Mr. 'Calhoun saved my life I'm going to ride with him to the hospital to make sure he's ok/I will fight all these fucking supervillains trying to kidnap my employee so I can get that man to a fucking hospital' would say fuck yall and dip instead of helping rebuild his company?

Sure, he's pissed off at his dad and his ex but would that spite really beat out every fuck he gives for all the other people that work for him? The folks he said were like family to him that he proved pretty well that he meant it through out the story? If he quits he cant take care of the ex-con's family like he promised to. If he quits what happens to Angie? If he quits Calhoun wont have a job to come back to and its not like he could get another after being turned into a metal skinned mutant.

Nah, I don't buy that ending.

What is Ted Kord other than a bundle of guilt and responsibility, seasoned with depression and self loathing, and covered up with a bright wrapper of quips and humor?

I'm not buying that Ted Kord would leave his people in a lurch just to spite two fuckers when he could spite them by being fucking awesome and taking care of his?

[gukyi]

love me or we both go down | kth

summary: after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

{enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, rich kids!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, smut (i know, crazy right?) word count: 32k warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, multiple unprotected sex scenes (they’re married y’all), fat cock tae, tae has a wife kink, lots of praise, alcohol consumption (but they’re safe), minor character death (not explicit), mentions of heart attack, slow burn like there is no tomorrow a/n: hello and welcome to the fic everyone, literally everyone, has been waiting for! i am so, so, so excited to share this with you all, especially because none other than rose @kinktae​ helped me write the smut, and i am literally forever indebted to her. you all better go spam rose with all the love and support you can because this fic would not be here without her and i love her so much. 

also, to all my readers who aren’t comfortable reading smut, please know that the smut in this fic is not imperative to the storyline, and you skipping past it will not affect your reading experience., enjoy!

Never in your life have wedding bells felt so ominous.

The sound of them is akin to the sound of strings, of a single piano note in a horror movie, right when the film opens and someone random is about to die on screen for the sake of proving to the audience that this is, in fact, a horror movie. Make no mistake about it; these wedding bells spell doom for you, too. And the most horrific part about them is that just like that poor, helpless soul in the movie, there is no way for you to escape your fate either. 

With only seconds left to go before you have no choice but to promise yourself to the man waiting at the other end of the aisle, you desperately try to think of any last-ditch efforts to get out of this. Many, if not all of them, are utterly useless. 

Feigning sudden illness won’t work, because then your parents will just reschedule the wedding to a later date. Running away is fruitless. Where will you go? The parking lot?

If only you had a lover out there in the audience somewhere that could object to the marriage when the officiant says, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” A knight in shining armor that could whisk you out of the venue and off to a new life, far away from here. Too bad all of the people you’ve dated before hate you now. 

Maybe getting married isn’t such a bad thing after all. Instead of having relationships with multiple people who will eventually despise your existence, you only have to have a relationship with one. And the feeling, as has always been, is mutual. 

You bristle as your assistants do some last-minute prepping, fixing your sleeve and adjusting your necklace and making sure you don’t trip on your enormous train. They flutter around you like a swarm of well-meaning but ignorant butterflies complicit in the agenda of your family. None of them have said a word to you about the wedding ever since you arrived at the venue, choosing to talk more about things like the weather. Not that you were ever under the impression they had been hired to entertain you. Maybe they were told to not engage you, just in case you try to conspire with them.

As if they could be of any use in your wildly unrealistic escape plans. 

The truth is that, unless you were to drop dead on this marble flooring right now, you’re getting married. Whether you like it or not.

The doors open. 

You’ve attended red carpets, galas, award shows, and balls. You’ve had hundreds of cameras flashing in your face, the bright light capturing each and every centimeter of you. You’ve had paparazzi waiting outside the restaurants you eat at, the stores you shop at, desperate to catch a picture of you in sweatpants without a drop of makeup on. You’ve been on dates with ex-lovers that looked at you like you were a piece of meat with a credit card. And yet, for some goddamn reason, walking down the aisle in a white dress the size of Pluto, with the rest of your life waiting for you at the other end, makes you feel fucking transparent. 

Face resolute, you clutch onto your bouquet so tightly the flowers feel like they’re about to pop right out of your grasp. Determined not to look at anybody in the audience, you stare straight ahead, right into the eyes of your future husband.

Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen multiple times drunk off his ass with hickies dotting his neck and jawline, cleans up pretty well. For someone getting married, at least. He dons a simple black tuxedo that still probably costs more than the average car, his caramel brown hair is pushed back off his forehead, and his expression is firm and still. He most certainly has had an equally expensive team prepping him, but they haven’t done too bad a job. The silver lining is that he doesn’t look any more thrilled than you are to be doing this, right here, right now. But to his credit, this is definitely the best he’s ever looked, as far as you’re concerned. 

When you reach him, he offers his hand out to you, a hand that you only accept for the sake of professionalism. The bouquet in your hands is handed off to one of your bridesmaids, and the two of you take your position at the front. Your train drags along the aisle, draping over the few stairs you had to climb to reach the altar, this satin trail behind you that cements you to the floor. It may as well be a ball-and-chain. It’s about as heavy as one, anyway. 

This is the longest you and Taehyung have ever held eye contact. Not that you’re really keeping track of how long the two of you have met each other’s gazes, but if you had to make an educated guess, this would definitely be the victor. Most of the time you end up sneering at each other ten seconds in, but to be fair, those other times you were also not getting married. To one another. In a ceremony attended by hundreds of people. And cameras.

There can be no sneering here. 

“Don’t you look nice?” Taehyung whispers, loud enough so only the two of you can hear. He has that drawling, sickly sweet tone to his voice, the one that you hate because it makes him sound like he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else. “Surprised they were able to makeup that scowl off your face.”

This, of course, brings on a hearty scowl only he can see, your backs both facing the rows of attendees. “How much concealer are you wearing to cover up all of the hickies on your neck?” You quip back easily. It’s not like the two of you are going to pretend he doesn’t waltz around at every club or bar or private venue he can find, looking for his next treat. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taehyung grins, and if you weren’t standing in front of hundreds of people about to get married, there’s no telling what next you would do.

The two of you would probably go on like that for another ten minutes if it’s not for the officiant, who coughs once he’s ready and opens the book in his hands. Next to you, Taehyung straightens, hands clasped together at his front, and lips pressed into a neat line. You do the same. There will be no giggles, no laughter nor smiles, nor any genuine emotion at this wedding. This is a wedding for the sake of politics, for economics, for security, and anyone in attendance would be a fool to think otherwise. Especially you. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, loved ones, and esteemed guests,” the officiant bellows, listing off as many groups of people as he possibly can in an effort to both include and compliment every person in the audience, “We are gathered here to celebrate the wedding, and future life, of Taehyung and Y/N…”

Taehyung turns to you, grinning in that god-awful way, the way he does when he feels like he’s got something over you. And sure, you can’t think of any punishment quite as bad as this, but what’s Taehyung got to smile about? He’s marrying himself off to a woman he hates, kissing goodbye his days as a free-spirited, heartbreaking bachelor, and promising what may very well be the rest of his life to loving you. That is not cause for celebration. 

But perhaps, to him, your suffering is enough to bring a smile to his face. 

Your vows are, to put it simply, total bullshit. Your family hired someone to write yours and there’s not a doubt in your mind that his family did the same thing. This nonsense talk, this complete and utter garbage that spews from your perfectly-glossed lips, shit about how you promise to love each other until the end of your days, how you promise to take care of each other when you’re sick and accompany each other at every event, every gala, every ball. Shit about how you promise to look only at each other, promise to uphold your family traditions and become a dependable spouse. 

The words don’t belong to you. But the thing is that this marriage was never yours anyway. 

When the kiss comes, there’s a part of you that thinks maybe you should have psyched yourself up a little more for this. When Taehyung pulls you in, placing a stiff hand on your lower back as he brings you towards his chest, your stomach turns and shivers run down your spine. The feeling of his hand on your body, the breath from his lips brushing against your own, are enough to keep you frozen in place. 

He smiles at you, almost as if to ask, “Are you ready?”

And you squeeze your eyes shut, almost as if to respond, “Let’s do this.”

When his lips meet yours, there is almost nothing. Nothing runs through you, nothing explodes, nothing strikes. But when he pulls away and cheers and applause rings out throughout the room, there is something. A little heat, a remnant of a flame, left on your lips. A little sting, just to remind you it happened. 

The entire hall is cheering but nothing about this is worth celebrating. The fact of the matter is that you and Taehyung will never love each other the way that you are supposed to. 

“Ugh, finally.”

The elevator doors haven’t even properly opened by the time Taehyung is loosening his tie, tugging it off over his head as he stretches his head back and runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair. As he rakes his fingers through his caramel locks, the hairspray and gel loosens, strands falling down by the side of his face, framing his temple.

“Don’t sound so relieved,” you huff out, deciding now is as good a time as any to start getting undressed yourself. Reaching down to lift up the hem of your reception dress, you tug off your heels, already feeling lighter on your feet. Who cares if Taehyung is watching you pull off your stilettos like a defeated movie heroine? You don’t think you can walk another step in those shoes. “We still have to live together, you know.”

“Don’t remind me,” Taehyung says gruffly, brushing by you roughly as he stomps out of the elevator. “I’m just glad the fucking night is over. I swear, seeing that fake-ass smile on your face made me want to gouge my eyes out.”

You storm after him, refusing to be the helpless damsel in this situation. “Oh, like you didn’t also have that exact same fake-ass smile on your face. It almost made me think you were actually enjoying yourself tonight.”

“I was only enjoying the fact that I know you hate this just as much as I do.” It’s perhaps the only thing you will ever be able to empathize with him on. Mutually relishing in the other’s destruction. Taehyung fumbles with the keypad to the door to the penthouse for a moment before you hear the lock click, the door sliding open as the entrance lights flicker on. 

The reason Taehyung’s penthouse is so clean is because he’s never lived here before. Neither of you have—Taehyung’s parents bought it just for the two of you. And as much as you absolutely despise the idea of having to live with him, at least it was not you who paid for your place of residence. 

You can tell Taehyung’s never lived here before because it’s actually quite nicely decorated inside. The ceilings are high and the sleek velvet curtains are pulled open, revealing a shimmering skyline. The furniture is modern and functional, and the whole damn place smells brand new. You’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of entering the place Taehyung lived in before now, and it looked nothing like this. The furniture was worn and stained despite the live-in maid, the house reeked of five hundred different spices that wafted from the kitchen to the living room, and the bookshelves were covered with comics, graphic novels, and old textbooks. 

If it weren’t for the fact that you and Taehyung are rich kids in their twenties that hate each other, you might have actually thought the place looked… homey. 

You don’t have time to be impressed by the interior design and architecture skills of whoever designed this place. Right now, all you can think about is tugging yourself out of your airtight reception dress and passing out on the nearest bed. Which, hopefully, will be as far away as possible from Taehyung’s bed of choice. 

“How many bedrooms does this place have?” You ask, shimmying along the floor so you don’t trip over the hem of your dress. From the looks of it, you can see one giant hallway to your right and a massive, double-sided staircase leading up. 

“Enough,” Taehyung grumbles in response. The hazy stupor from all of the fancy champagne is starting to wear off for the both of you, leaving behind two grouchy, begrudgingly-married individuals who want absolutely nothing to do with each other and have no problems making that known. Whatever golden light of the evening that was making Taehyung at least a little bit more attractive than usual has faded, and now you see him for what he really is: an unceremoniously tired man in a suit. “You want upstairs or down?”

You gaze up at the marble staircase in front of you, then back down at your too-long dress. “Down.” The last thing you want is to trip in front of the man you have to see, every day, for the rest of your life. 

“Fine by me.” Taehyung’s halfway up the stairs by the time he turns back around to say something else. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

“Yeah.” There’s no point in being hostile now. The both of you are too exhausted to mean anything by it. Besides, what else can you say? Everything to complain about has already been complained about. At least the two of you managed to wrestle out from your parents the stipulation that you would not be going on a honeymoon together. Now that would have been your worst nightmare. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s as good of a goodnight either of you are going to get. Taehyung heads up the stairs and disappears around a corner, and you start wandering down the hallway. All the bedrooms look the exact same other than different colors on the walls and bedsheets, but they all look serviceable to you. Clean. Empty. Far away from wherever Taehyung is. 

You pick the one at the very end of the hall just to be as much of a diva as possible, and don’t even bother drawing the curtains before tugging off your dress. It’s past one in the morning, and you’re so high up you don’t think anyone will be able to see you anyway. By the time you’ve stripped naked and are tugging up the too-tight sheets tucked into the mattress, your legs are about to give out beneath you. The bed could be made of rocks for all you care. Anything to lie down on is fine by you. 

Sleep comes fairly easily to you tonight. Once your head hits the pillow you can already feel yourself drifting off, eyelids fluttering shut, but you don’t sleep quite yet. Not before you can think about how this is your life now, sleeping in a foreign bed in a foreign place with a foreign husband upstairs. This is what you will be living in now. Now and forever. 

Living with Taehyung is, in both the best and worst ways possible, like living with a roommate that doesn’t give a shit about the fact that they live with another person. It’s good, because you and Taehyung hardly see each other and speak even less, which was pretty much the only thing you were asking for when it came to living with him. But it also sucks, because whenever you do happen to cross paths, Taehyung acts like you don’t exist, barely sparing you a hello or even that tight-lipped smile you send to drivers on the road when they let you cross the street. 

Not that the two of you ever engaged in energetic conversation before you got married. But at least the two of you would acknowledge each other, even if only to shoot a glare and a scowl the other’s way from opposite sides of a hotel ballroom. Maybe it’s just because it’s him, but you did always find yourself actually relishing in those little interactions with Taehyung. In this strange, twisted way, it seemed to provide some sort of continuity to your ever-changing life. Like no matter what happened, at least you would know that the two of you would always despise each other. 

To be frank, right now you’re not sure if Taehyung even remembers he got married at all.

Nights have been a lot more sleepless since your wedding day. After two weeks, the reality of it has finally started to settle in. This is your life now. And ever since you realized that, your bed has felt much less comfortable. 

“But the place is nice, right?”

You look around the living room from where you’re sat on the sleek, white suede leather couch, eyes glossing over the bookshelves, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the draping velvet curtains. From here, you can see the entire city skyline, flecks of gold from the windows of skyscrapers against a navy blue background. Slowly, as the moon creeps over the sky and the clock gets later and later, those lights will soon begin to flicker off, one by one. 

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Nothing to write home about. That is, if home were a place other than here. 

“That’s good. At least you don’t live in, like, a total dump or anything,” Victoria says on the other end of the line. “How’s Taehyung?”

His name alone elicits this deeply-exhausted sigh from your lips, like it’s been ten years since you married and every day has felt worse than the last. “Fine.” You can’t really complain about anything yet, considering that you hardly ever see the man. 

“Just ‘fine’?” Victoria sounds skeptical. 

“Yeah,” you draw out the word, as if trying to convince yourself of its truth. “I mean, it’s like he doesn’t even live here. I barely see him. And when I do, we don’t even speak to each other.”

“That’s good though, isn’t it? You hate him.” Victoria says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And in a sense, it kind of is. 

“I mean…”

“I know that your life hasn’t exactly… gone the way you had planned, but isn’t this your best case scenario when considering everything?” She asks. “If Taehyung is as distant as you say he is, isn’t it almost like you never married him in the first place?”

As if on cue, you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, heels clicking on the marble as they make their way to the entrance. You whip your head around to find Taehyung, all dressed up in loose, flowy slacks and a flowery silk button-down, strolling down the staircase as he scrolls through his phone, paying you zero attention whatsoever. 

He notices you briefly when he reaches the bottom, meeting your eyes with his own. He offers this measly, unenthused half-smile your way before he grabs his wallet and some house keys from the table by the entrance, opens the door, and vanishes off into the night. 

If you hadn’t been in the living room, you probably wouldn’t have even realized he left. Not that you being present as he’s planning on leaving would have stopped him anyway. This is the sixth night he’s done this in the past two weeks. You could stand by the door and stare him down as he emerges from his bedroom, all dressed up for something you’re definitely not invited to, and he would offer you that same goddamn smile and walk out the door without even blinking. Who he was before you got married and who he is now are no different. Not even a ring could change that. 

“I guess,” you tell Victoria. At least Taehyung hasn’t turned into a helicopter husband. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wish that I didn’t have to deal with him at all.”

Wish you could turn back time. Wish you could worm your way out of an arranged marriage before it was too late. Wish you could go back to the way things used to be. 

You and Victoria talk for another couple of minutes before she regretfully has to end the call, citing both her beauty sleep and an 8AM meeting tomorrow morning as her reasons for hanging up. The moment you put the phone down, you sink back into the couch cushions, staring out the windows at the world below you.

Here’s the deal. What Taehyung does in his free time is none of your business. But also, it’s totally your business, because you are his spouse. A spouse who is an equal amount in the public eye as he is. What he does and does not do has a direct impact on what you do and do not do. 

It’s no secret that when you catch Taehyung sauntering down the stairs looking like a Gucci runway model, it’s not because he’s planning on catching a movie with a college friend and then playing video games for four hours on a couch in a basement. He is going out. To clubs, to parties, to exclusive events that he’s been invited to by his equally-rich friends, all of whom are acting like he’s the same bachelor he’s always been. 

And maybe that’s the real problem with your whole marriage—other than the glaringly obvious issue that it’s a marriage wholly unwanted by the two parties involved in it. Despite the ring on his finger, Taehyung is going out and pretending that nothing in his life has changed while you’re trapped at home, desperate to save you and your family’s reputation by keeping as low a profile as possible. You would give anything to march around the city all day, flashing middle fingers at paparazzi as you shop at your favorite high-end stores and frequent your favorite clubs. But you can’t, because your family’s fortune and influence is on the line. 

And apparently, Taehyung’s isn’t. 

It sort of makes you wonder why it was even Taehyung you ended up marrying anyway. His family isn’t any richer or more powerful than yours. Your spheres have always been sufficiently separate. What was it about him, and perhaps more importantly, his family that drew your parent’s eye? And what was it about marrying you that prevented him from saying no? Money? Prestige? Influence?

You suppose you’ll never know. But whatever mystical force that convinced Taehyung to agree to this must not be as important to him as your reasoning is to you, because it’s become exceedingly apparent that Taehyung does not care that he���s married. He doesn’t care about the ring on his finger, he doesn’t care about his public image, and he most certainly doesn’t care about you.

Perhaps you were naive for thinking this, but you actually believed marriage might tone him down a little. Might age him into a real adult with real world obligations. Instead, it’s only given you a firsthand look into who Kim Taehyung has been and always will be: a selfish rich kid.

You don’t bother waiting around in the living room until he gets back, but you are still awake by the time you hear the door creak open. Taehyung makes no efforts to hide his return. You can hear him chattering loudly on the phone as he stumbles up the stairs, can tell from his gait alone that he is most certainly wasted. You don’t want to know what he did tonight. You’ll probably be able to figure it out anyway when you wake up tomorrow morning and check your social media. 

What were you thinking, marrying him? That he would change? That he would suddenly become someone that you could rely on? You had no choice when you said, “I do,” but you were at least hoping that maybe one day, one day in a long, long time, the two of you would finally see eye to eye. Maybe there would even come a time when you would genuinely love him. How foolish. 

You close your eyes and try to imagine a world where you have married someone you love, someone who loves you back.

Not unlike the many nights preceding it, tonight is sleepless. 

Unlike your marital status and general disposition, one thing that hasn’t changed about you is your love for extravagant events. Call you conceited, but there is something so much fun about putting on a fancy, expensive dress that you love and getting your hair and makeup done before going to an exclusive gala and posing in front of five hundred cameras. 

Actually, now that you think about it, maybe your wedding could have actually been pretty good, considering it let you do all those things. It’s a real shame there happened to be a storm cloud in the form of Kim Taehyung there to ruin it. Otherwise, you think you would have rather enjoyed that day. 

Tonight is the first event since your marriage where you and Taehyung are both required to show up and act like a happy married couple. Which would probably be a lot easier if you and Taehyung had exchanged more than ten words over the past two weeks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was a part of you that thought you could use your arranged marriage to actually cultivate some sort of meaningful relationship between the two of you. So events like these wouldn’t be such a drain on both of you. 

When Kim Taehyung comes down the stairs, he actually doesn’t look too bad. You don’t know why this sort of thing keeps catching you off guard—like you don’t expect him to look that good whenever you see him. The problem is that you can’t even chalk up the surprise to him wearing tailored clothes or having his hair done. He just looks… good. 

Well, you suppose you do have to look at him every day for the rest of your life. It’s a good thing he’s attractive. At least he’s not sore on the eyes. 

Taehyung and his unfortunate attractiveness aside, the two of you don’t say a word to each other as you join up at the entrance, grabbing any last-minute items like house keys, chapstick, and whatever dignity you have left to spare. You send forced smiles and tight nods each other’s way in the elevator, staring straight ahead in the lobby of your building as the car pulls up to the front door.

By the time the two of you sit down in the back of the limousine, the built-up tension between the two of you is so thick you’re almost positive that even the chauffeur can feel it through the closed partition. 

If you were any more idyllic, you’d probably spend the drive over to the gala staring out the window and imagining yourself in a different life, on a train to nowhere, flowers in your hair and a journal in your hands. Or perhaps you’d be the CEO of your family’s company instead of having that responsibility passed down to a husband you don’t even want, sitting in an office at the top of a skyscraper overlooking the city. Anything. Anything but this.

But the idyllic part of you died when you realized that fantasies like that are nothing but distractions and that daydreams are for romantics and optimists and losers. 

“What’s our plan for tonight?”

Taehyung scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘what’s our plan’?”

You frown. “Well, we’re married, so we at least have to act like it, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t standing there and smiling enough?” Taehyung asks, an unimpressed eyebrow raised. 

You bristle. Maybe that sufficed for your wedding, but there was so much going on it was easy to distract yourself from the gravity of it all. But this event is not about you. It’s not even about either of your families. It’s about someone the two of you are, at best, distantly connected to, through work, through fame, through power. Which means that though the focus will not be on you, there will still be eyes looking your way. Eyes watching your every move. 

“Do you think it will be?” You challenge. Doesn’t Taehyung realize that things are different now?

Taehyung’s lips curl downwards. “What do you expect us to do, shower each other in kisses? We don’t even sleep on the same fucking floor.”

“Maybe I just expected you to act less like a stranger and more like a husband!”

Taehyung sighs. “Don’t.” The word is clipped, short. “Don’t tell me you actually want to be married.”

“I don’t.” It’s a response that you hardly have to think twice about. “But we are, and nothing can change that.” Unfortunately. But it’s a fact that you and Taehyung have both had to grapple with over the past few weeks, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you are more aware of it than he is. If Taehyung could have his way, he would ignore you for the rest of his life and keep partying with the rest of his bachelor friends until he keeled over and died. 

He huffs next to you, eyes staring straight ahead. You don’t think the two of you have met each other’s eyes in a week. Maybe more. They’re starting to feel as soulless as your marriage itself. “Whatever. What do you want me to do?”

“What do you think?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Just act like you don’t hate me. Can you do that?” The way Taehyung’s behaving right now, you expect that will be a challenge for the both of you.

“Only if you can. I’ll even hold your hand to prove that we love each other.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The idea of holding Taehyung’s hand makes you want to implode. The mere thought sends shivers down your spine. But it’s better than nothing, and that’s good enough for you. At least you won’t have to kiss. 

The rest of the ride there is silent. You drive to this gorgeous mansion just outside the city, bathed in lights hidden amongst the bushes, illuminating both the architecture and the enormous fountain that sits in front of it. In a house this size, you imagine you could probably go your whole life without ever having to come across Taehyung. It actually makes you consider investing in a home that big. 

Taehyung helps you out of the back of the limousine, a cold hand clasping your own as you rest your palm against his. You can feel the way his fingers hesitate as yours make to intertwine with his as you walk towards the entrance, smiling at whatever camera flashes you encounter on your way. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were holding hands with a ghost. 

The moment you step inside and are ushered out of the door’s view, Taehyung’s grip relaxes on yours. For a moment, you think he’ll actually spend the rest of the night like this, a gentle hand wrapped around yours, but then he pulls it away entirely and shoves it back into his pocket. Oh. You frown quietly to yourself. So that’s how tonight’s going to go. 

You don’t make an effort to reach out towards him again. 

For an event concerning people you don’t know a damn thing about, everyone sure seems to know things about you. Other than greetings, you don’t think anyone’s said anything to you about anything other than your recent marriage to Taehyung. Every conversation is punctuated by a Congratulations! you do not feel that you have at all earned, considering you and Taehyung could barely look at each other on the way here.

Maybe Taehyung was right. All you really can do is stand there and smile.

“Oh, don’t tell me… Y/N, is that you?”

The champagne swirls around in the flute between your fingers as you turn towards the sound of your name, looking up to see a familiar face headed your way. 

Kim Seokjin is nice enough. He’s terribly handsome and got a flawless smile, but you know better than to trust those pearly whites of his. The sight of him alone is enough to make your body tense up. There was a reason you had explicitly told your parents not to invite him to your wedding. 

“Seokjin, what a surprise to see you here,” you say, forcing a smile. “I thought you were supposed to be in Switzerland right now.”

“Change of plans,” Seokjin grins back in that awful, awful way, the kind of grin that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you. “I came back early. It’s a shame, though, I missed your wedding.”

You shrug. “It was a humble affair.” It wasn’t. And you’re positive that Seokjin knows it wasn’t an accident that you didn’t extend an invitation to him or his family. 

“Ah, I see,” Seokjin says, nodding his head. He turns to Taehyung next to you, who is making no effort to hide how wholly uninterested in this conversation he is, and holds out a hand. “You must be Kim Taehyung, then. I’m Kim Seokjin. Congratulations on your wedding.”

Taehyung shakes his hand firmly, the air between the three of you growing unbearably palpable. 

“Seokjin’s father is the VP of News Daily,” You explain, eyebrows raised as you try to signal to Taehyung what exactly it means when Seokjin is speaking to the two of you. “And his mother is a popular journalist for the city’s post.”

Seokjin grew up in the world of media, and it seems he’s picked up his parent’s affinity for sticking their noses in places they don’t belong. You know he’s not talking to the both of you out of the goodness of his heart. 

Seokjin laughs, his hand waving away the mention of his parents. “Oh, please. That’s them. I’m just a bored socialite like the rest of you.”

You resist the urge to scoff. 

“Marriage treating the two of you well?” He changes the subject to what he really wants to talk about: you. 

“Of course,” you say quickly, preventing any hesitation on your end. Your empty hand reaches towards Taehyung’s, fingers searching for his between the two of you. But his refusal to join hands does not go unnoticed by you nor Seokjin, who is eyeing the space between your bodies with an eyebrow raised. “It’s just been—well, it’s just been difficult to adjust to a new life. That’s all.”

If you were to describe the face of a non-believer, it would be the exact expression on Seokjin’s face. “Perfectly understandable,” he says, that same toothy smile lacing his features. “But it must be nice, you know, to marry someone you love.”

“I couldn’t be happier,” you say, almost challenging Seokjin to say something even more inflammatory. He must know that all you’re trying to do at this point is save face. Love? Ha! As if. 

“And Taehyung?” Seokjin motions to your husband. 

You can feel the way Taehyung is stiffening beside you. “I suppose we are both lucky and unlucky in many ways when it comes to who we love.”

It’s enough of an answer to get Seokjin off your tail. For now. He bids the two of you a tense goodbye before sauntering off to go poke his nose in someone else’s business, fish for drama, a thread of a rumor he can pick apart with nimble fingers. You wonder if anybody actually likes him. 

The moment he disappears from earshot, you grab Taehyung’s wrist tightly and pull him close to you. “What the hell was that?” You hiss into his ear. 

“What?” You can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or if he really is that dense. 

“You!” You exclaim. “Kim Seokjin is the one person who could easily expose how fake this marriage is and you pull away from me? Right in front of him? You can’t even hold my hand for two seconds, that’s how much you hate me?”

“Who cares what he thinks?” Taehyung says. “He’s just another media rat. No one will even remember we were here tomorrow.”

“But if you keep acting like this, people will start to notice! Why can’t you just act like you don’t hate me, for one night? Is that so bad? Is it that torturous, to spend one night with me?”

“Do not turn this on me,” Taehyung orders harshly. “You’re making a scene. Come on.”

You don’t have time to shout at him for bossing you around like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum before he drags you out of the venue, the two of you finding a back door to the building that leads outside. The cold air blows against your body, goosebumps popping up against your skin, but you find that the chilly night provides quite the respite after practically overheating indoors. Taehyung makes fire rush through your veins but at least the air can cool you back down. 

Nevertheless, your conversation is not over. It’s just been moved to a more private location.

“You do realize that our marriage isn’t going to suddenly go away, right? That we’re going to have to keep doing this for the rest of our lives?” You remind him, eyebrows raised. There’s a part of you that genuinely thinks he’s completely forgotten that your marriage is permanent.

“Oh, and not holding hands for five minutes for this one event is totally going to change the course of our lives, isn’t it?” Taehyung fights back.

“Don’t act like you did the right thing,” you spit out. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know you don’t give a shit about our marriage.”

“What marriage is there to even give a shit about? Just because we had a wedding and signed some documents does not mean there is a real marriage between us. Look at us,” he motions between the two of you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We hate each other. Is this what you would call marriage?”

“But at least I’m trying to get past that!” You exclaim. “You make it seem like being as miserable as possible is some sort of badge of honor. Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life hating the person you married? Or do you want to grow up and try and move on?”

Taehyung frowns. “What I want is for the person I married to stop acting like they’re doing me such a huge favor by pretending to care about us. Especially when all they really care about is their family’s goddamn reputation.”

“No,” you tell him sternly. You are doing him a favor. He just can’t admit that he actually needs help from you. “You are putting zero effort into this. What am I supposed to do?”

“Let it go!” Taehyung shouts. “Maybe one day we’ll actually start getting along, but right now it’s obvious that neither one of us can stand the other. I don’t need you to do favors for me. I can handle it myself.”

You look away, rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” you mutter to yourself. 

Taehyung cracks. “Fine. You want me to pretend that I actually care about us? I will.” Thank God. Maybe now the two of you will finally start seeing eye-to-eye. “But make no mistake about how I feel about you,” he spits. “Getting married to you ruined my life.”

You stare straight at him and his eyes are swirling, so obscured in the darkness of the night that you might even think he doesn’t have a soul at all. His pupils bore into yours and for once, for once in your goddamn life, after so many years of staring each other down at debutante balls, so many years of witty refrains and snarky insults hurled each other’s way, it feels like the two of you might actually snap. 

Then, a camera flashes.

Trouble in Paradise! would be a suitable title for the front page of the city’s biggest tabloid… if anything about your life with Taehyung could be considered paradise. Unfortunately for the both of you, that is not the case. 

You don’t need to keep reading the rest of the trashy article on the front page of the daily tabloid to know how much trouble you’re in, nor do you even have time to scroll beneath the terrible photo of you and Taehyung literally shouting at each other before you hear your phone ring. 

You don’t even bother saying hello to whoever’s on the other end. You know it’ll go in one ear and out the other. 

“I assume you know why I’m calling,” your mother’s harsh tone spits from the other end of the phone. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s standing in the middle of her office, snapping her fingers at her fifteen secretaries as they partake in the worst damage control your family’s had to deal with since your cousin two years ago was caught with a mistress outside a high-profile restaurant. 

“Can I take a wild guess?” You’re about to be scolded into the next century, so you might as well enjoy your last few moments. 

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” your mother warns. “Care to explain why you and your beloved husband made the front page of the Daily Post today?”

“I know,” you sigh, a hand coming up to rub at your temples. It’s eight in the morning, you’ve barely looked at your phone, and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. It feels like you’re still asleep, and most certainly lack the energy to deal with this right now. 

Your mother, on the other hand, thinks otherwise. “You know? You know, and you still go out and do this? For everyone to see?”

“We tried to take our argument outside,” you begin to explain, but your mother isn’t having a single word of it. 

“The fact that you thought it was even appropriate to have an argument in a public setting at all astounds me, Y/N. We raised you better than that.” There’s no need for you to even see her face. You’ve grown so used to that disappointed frown over the years that it’s burned into your brain. 

“Maybe you should have thought about that before marrying me off to a man I barely know so I could be someone else’s problem instead of yours,” you bite. 

“We did this for your own good,” she hisses back. “You are married because we love you, and we want you to succeed outside of this family.”

“Then why do you care what the tabloids print about me?”

“Because being married does not mean you are no longer a part of this family,” your mother informs you sternly, lips smacking together. “Your marriage reflects on all of us, and you know that. What will people think of us when they see how terribly behaved you are?”

“Everyone acts like that, and you know it.” How could your mother preach good behavior when everyone, everyone you know, is just as spoiled and entitled as you? There’s no such thing as being altruistic when it comes to people like you. Being genuine, and good, and pure—that will get you ruined. 

You can hear her breathing into the phone when your mother responds, “But not in public, and that is the point. We expect better from you.”

“If you were so worried about me behaving so badly, then why did you even marry me off anyway? You knew that I didn’t want to. What did you think would happen?” It’s a question you wouldn’t have dared ask three months ago. Hell, even a year ago, when it was first revealed you were to be engaged, you wouldn’t have dared open your lips. But things are different now. You’re married to a man that hates you just as much as you hate him. He is making no effort to improve your relationship and seems hellbent on despising you forever. There is no way to get out of it. And if your parents really foresaw all of that, then what was the point in the first place?

“Your grandmother.”

Your mouth shuts. 

“You know she wanted to see you married before she passed,” your mother says, words clipped and biting and harsh. “She cares about you. She wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you mutter to yourself like a petulant child. In a way, you sort of are.

“If you want to stay in her will, I suggest you change that mindset.”

You freeze in your tracks. The will?

“Is that a threat?” You ask, positively dumbfounded. Are you being coerced into staying in this marriage because of your grandmother’s will?

You can hear your mother laugh, that muted, knowing chuckle of hers. “It was the deal all along, remember?”

Vaguely, you do. You remember fighting your parents tooth and nail over getting married until your grandmother revealed it was her dream to see you wed. You remember the look on her old, wrinkled face, that soft, sad smile that said she knew she didn’t have much time left. You remember agreeing, because how could you deny her? You remember her promising to remember what you’re doing for her. 

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“But—”

“That’s the end of this conversation, Y/N. You fix things with your husband or you’re out of her will. She’s made that clear. I expect you’ll make the right choice.”

She hangs up. 

Well. 

There are a lot of ways to describe how you’re currently feeling, and you most certainly had an expensive education that would provide you with plenty of the vocabulary, but you think the most appropriate words for the current situation would be: you’re fucked. 

At least the feeling is mutual. 

Hardly two minutes after your mother’s brutal phone call, Taehyung comes storming down the stairs, hair still mussed from the night prior, his own phone clenched tightly between is fingers. Even from where you stand in the middle of the living room, you can see the way his eyes are glinting with anger, the veins popping out from his skin. 

“I just got off the phone with my parents,” Taehyung begins, not even bothering to spare a ‘good morning’ your way, “and they are fucking furious about last night.”

You shrug. “Join the club,” you mutter, arms crossed in front of you. What, does Taehyung really think you got off scot-free?

“Don’t act like this means nothing to you,” Taehyung says as he approaches you, footsteps calm despite his demeanor being anything but. “You’re the one who’s so obsessed with keeping up their family’s perfect reputation. You’re the reason we’re even in this mess in the first place.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m the reason’?” You ask, astounded. Like he’s totally absolved of all blame and just an innocent third party. “You are the reason we went outside. You are the reason we had that argument, because you refuse to accept the fact that we’re actually married and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Right, because holding hands is really gonna show all those people how in love we are. I bet your parents are so thrilled right now.” Taehyung drawls. 

“It’s a start!” You shriek. “God, you’re just so—so infuriating! You can’t accept that this was your fault, too. You just have to turn everything against me and you always, always have to get the last word. It’s like you think you’ll die if you don’t.”

“Like you’re any better,” Taehyung huffs back. “You think I’m the villain because I don’t want to pretend to be in love with someone I’m not in love with. You act like us not holding hands is going to ruin our lives. It was one event! One! It’s obvious we hate each other, so why even try?”

“What, do you expect me to just sit around and do nothing? To act like everything��s fine? Like I’m happy?” As if. This marriage is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. “While you prance around the city with your rich boy friends, going out to clubs and parties and pretending that I don’t exist? Is that what you expect from me?”

Taehyung laughs, this loud, disbelieving sort of noise, like he’s never heard such nonsense before. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean the rest of my life has to change. Am I not allowed to enjoy myself with my friends? Or are you determined to keep me chained to your side for the rest of our lives?”

“What I want,” you punctuate every word, “is for you to stop acting like you haven’t got stakes in this, too. You think I don’t know how your family works? What being married to me means for you? Because I do. And I know that if we were to divorce, it would be you who would get the short end of the stick. Make no mistake.”

That’s enough to shut Taehyung up for a good few seconds. And it shuts him up, because he knows it’s true. Taehyung’s family may have a little more money, a little more power than yours, but you’ve got a family intimately more connected with the media. One phone call and Taehyung may have a rather messy, rather public breakup to deal with. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says, calling your bluff. 

“Are you sure about that?” You say, sticking your ground. You would never really divorce him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I am,” Taehyung says firmly. “Don’t think I don’t know what being married to me is in it for you. What is it? Money? Power? Your father’s CEO position?”

“That’s none of your business,” you snap quickly. Maybe you’re more transparent than you thought. Bristling, you straighten your shoulders and turn back to meet his eyes. “Regardless, it seems we both have a reason to stay in this marriage.”

“It seems we do,” Taehyung agrees with a thin, contained smile. “Then I suppose we can reach some sort of agreement.”

“As in…?” Your interest in piqued. 

“I’ll stop going out with my friends if you stop picking fights with me all the time,” he says economically, like he’s killing two birds with one stone. 

“Only if you agree to also act more like my husband when we’re in public,” you tack on, because you just can’t settle for anything less. 

“Public only,” Taehyung specifies. 

You scoff. “Like I’d even want to pretend to be your wife when we’re in private.”

“Good. It seems we’ve come to a deal.”

“What’s in this for you, huh?” You prod, just to be annoying. Taehyung’s right. There’s a reason you’re not divorcing him the second you get the chance. But there must be a reason why he’s not doing the same thing. 

“Does it matter?” He challenges, a single eyebrow raised. “My life is just as awful as yours.”

Fair enough. 

“Do we have a deal?” Taehyung asks, holding out his hand, that sneaky, devilish grin lacing his features. 

Taking his hand in yours and grasping it firmly is the easiest decision in the world. His palm presses against your own, hot hand meeting your cold skin, and it feels like the two of you are finally finding some sort of balance. You look up into his eyes, burn your gaze into his pupils, watch them glint in the white ceiling light of the living room. 

“Deal.”

For two people raised on the values of reading the fine print and making educated choices when it comes to business deals, you and Taehyung sure haven’t worked out any of the intricacies of the deal the two of you agreed to. Unlike those business deals your parents constantly agreed to, however, knowing all of the stipulations and provisions of your strange, strange agreement with Taehyung may prove more harmful than helpful. 

Like right now. 

“Wait, we don’t have to be by each other’s side the whole night, do we?” Taehyung asks you, eyebrows furrowed in a knot, as you sit in the back of a big, black van on your way to a mutual friend’s twenty-first birthday bash. 

“There are going to be a lot of cameras there,” you respond. 

“Yeah, outside the entrance to the damn club. You know they won’t be allowed in, so who cares?” Taehyung rebukes. 

You huff out a little sigh, not wanting to get into an argument when you’re literally minutes away from your first public appearance since the whole tabloid debacle from three weeks ago. You and Taehyung could both do with being a bit more relaxed than you normally are when you’re around each other. 

“Hasn’t Clarissa invited hundreds of people? They’ll all notice if we aren’t together,” you remind pointedly. The girl whose birthday party you are attending is an heiress who grew up on the money of two people with a monopoly over the current artificial intelligence market and has millions of followers on social media. There will be notable people there. And people will know the two of you, as well. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “That’s the point, Y/N. There’ll be so many people, no one will even care. It’s her twenty-first birthday. Do you think people are going to be sober?”

You purse your lips together. He’s got a point. “How about when we are together, we hold hands. But if you see a friend or something then feel free to say hi.” Taehyung can be afforded that luxury. Especially because the chances of him not bumping into someone he knows is exceedingly low anyway. 

Taehyung nods in agreement. “You too. But I won’t leave you unless I know you’re with someone you’re close with.”

“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine,” you say with a small chuckle. What, is Taehyung suddenly worried, or something?

“Yeah, but it would be in bad taste if I left you with someone you didn’t know well. Or alone. Just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.” He shrugs nonchalantly, turning back to look out of the window on his side of the car. 

“Okay.” 

You don’t really have anything else to say to that. You’re sure you can handle yourself if you’re left alone for a few minutes while Taehyung says hi, but you actually find yourself rather appreciative of his resolve to look after you. Or, at least, make sure someone else is looking after you. It’s quite… chivalrous. Strikingly out of character for the Taehyung you’ve become well-acquainted with over the past couple of months. 

By the time you arrive, it’s obvious that Taehyung was right about there being so many people you two practically don’t even exist. Other than the herds of camera crews waiting outside the joint, photographing everyone that steps out of a black car to see what they’re wearing and who they’ve come with, no one seems to be paying you any attention. And in a way, that sort of nonexistence, that anonymity, it’s refreshing. Your entire life you’ve felt like all eyes were on you, like there was constantly a spotlight above your head, but here, the party centers around someone else. 

Despite that fact, Taehyung keeps his promise. He keeps himself pressed closely against you when there’s not enough space for you two to stand side by side, and he makes sure to have a hand gently intertwined with your own as you weave your way through the dozens of bodies in the room. He doesn’t say anything, of course, always looking up and forward instead of beside him, where you stand, but you find that you’re actually quite relaxed with his presence. He spots a bit of a clearing near the back of the first floor of the club, where a whole bunch of leather couches are pressed up against the brick walls, where the two of you can take a breather. 

“Damn, Clarissa knows a lot of people,” you say when you finally settle down, happily plucking a martini from a tray held by one of the many caterers wandering through the venue. 

“I doubt she’s even spoken to half of them,” Taehyung comments. “She and I have maybe spoken once… three years ago.”

“It was enough to get you invited, wasn’t it?” You point out with an eyebrow raised. 

Taehyung nods, chuckling a little. “Touché,” he says, clinking his own cocktail glass against yours. 

You take a swig of the drink, letting it wash down your throat. You’re not exactly sure how else you’re supposed to survive the night. “You must enjoy this, huh?” You muse, looking up at Taehyung from where you’re seated on the couch. He’s standing next to you, looking around the room with a distant gaze in his eye. 

“Enjoy what? The drink? It’s nice,” Taehyung says, having another sip. 

“No, I mean this,” you say, motioning toward the crowd. “The clubbing, the dancing, the drinking. I’ll bet that if you could do this every day for the rest of your life, you would.”

“I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” he deadpans. 

“Just making an observation,” you say, holding your hand up in surrender. “I mean, isn’t this what you used to do every weekend before we got married? Get wasted and party? Wake up in someone else’s bed the next morning? Muscle your way through the week just so you could do it all over again?”

Taehyung shakes his head, a knowing grin on his face. “Looks like someone keeps up with her tabloids. Let me guess, you would scroll through all of those trashy articles on your phone whenever you woke up so you could see what your future husband was doing?”

“I could have never even met you and I would know that that’s exactly what you do,” you say, even though you definitely did do those things before your engagement was announced to the public. “You’re a heartbreaker, Kim Taehyung. I don’t need to read a tabloid to know that.”

“Well, you must be quite the lucky girl, then,” Taehyung comments. “You seem to be taking up so much of my energy that I don’t have the time for that anymore.”

You place a sarcastic hand on your heart. “I didn’t know you were always thinking about me. I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Taehyung huffs out, making the two of you both shake your heads as you chuckle to yourselves. First civil conversation you’ve had with each other in a long while, even if there may have been a few blows exchanged. 

The privacy doesn’t last long. Soon after, a huge crowd of people that could honestly still pass for teenagers herds towards the back of the club, all of them wanting to take pictures with each other. You and Taehyung do your best to stay out of the way, but one of the girls recognizes him from the Elle photoshoot he did about a year ago and begins to strike up a conversation with the both of you about your recent marriage. If she was paying attention to anything the tabloids leaked three weeks ago, she doesn’t mention it. Taehyung smiles and happily answers all of her questions, and even offers to take a picture of the group for them. The conversation ends before the two of you even catch her name. 

You’re standing by the line of buffet tables laid out against the staircase leading up to the second floor, no doubt as crowded as this one, when the opportunity for you to speak to someone other than Taehyung finally presents itself. 

“Y/N!”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You turn around to see Victoria barreling towards the both of you, not even caring when she accidentally spills a bit of her piña colada on the floor as she does. 

“Hey!” You exclaim excitedly. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure Clarissa invited everyone on her, her best friend’s, her best friend’s cousin, and her best friend’s cousin’s dog’s contact list,” Victoria says with a laugh. “It’s nice to see you. I feel like you’ve been holed up in that big ol’ penthouse for weeks.”

“Damage control,” you remind her succinctly. Victoria knows enough that that’s all the explanation she really needs. 

“I don’t know if the two of you have ever met formally,” you say, thinking back to your wedding, where Victoria spent most of her time schmoozing with your parents (who love her) and didn’t even engage with any of the people who Taehyung’s family had invited. “Taehyung, this is Victoria. Victoria, Taehyung.”

“Pleasure,” Victoria says in that loud, unabashedly forward way of hers, holding out a friendly hand. Taehyung smiles back curtly, taking her hand and shaking it gently, so as not to spill any more of her drink. 

“Mine as well. I remember you were at our wedding.” Oh? So he does know her?

“That I was. Oh, I miss that day. The food was excellent. Tonight’s isn’t too bad either. Hope you’re doing well, the two of you. It’s nice to see you getting along,” she says, always the observer. 

Taehyung’s eyes widen a little when he picks up what Victoria is not-so-subtly putting down, but you place a hand on his upper arm to calm him. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “She won’t say anything.”

“My lips are sealed,” Victoria adds. 

“If you wanna go spend time with some of your friends, you can,” you say, giving Taehyung a nudge. He looks positively helpless standing in between the two of you as Victoria out-extroverts him. 

“Alright,” he says hesitantly, even though you know he’s already spotted at least ten people you’re sure he’d want to spend time with over you. “I’ll come find you soon, okay? Don’t go too far.”

You nod, and Taehyung disappears off into the crowd. Not two seconds later, you hear someone else call his name in a familiar tone. 

“I thought you said you hated him,” Victoria points out as the two of you watch his caramel brown hair makes its way throughout the crowd. 

You take another sip of your drink. “I do,” you say. 

Victoria looks at you like you’ve just told her you’ve sworn off custard-filled doughnuts. 

“What?” You ask, feeling suddenly defensive. 

“Nothing,” Victoria singsongs. “It just doesn’t look like that to me.”

“We just need to keep up a good appearance in public, that’s all. You know how mad my parents got when the tabloids leaked all that shit a few weeks ago,” you explain. You’re not sure what all the fuss is about. Taehyung said he would do these things. And he did. That was him upholding his end of the deal. This is you upholding yours. 

“If you say so…” Victoria says, not looking at all convinced. “I guess I’m just surprised that—that you two seem to be getting along so well. Maybe you being married isn’t going to be the worst thing after all.”

You stare back out into the crowd, scanning the top of people’s heads for Taehyung’s familiar locks. In the dim light of the club, you have a difficult time finding his, squinting your eyes slightly as you look around, but eventually you spot him, dancing happily with some old friends of his you recognize. He looks like he’s having a good time. And that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might end up alright. 

“Yeah,” you say, though with the pounding of the bass and the alcohol already rushing through your veins, it doesn’t really feel like your voice belongs to you. You look back at Taehyung, knowing exactly where he is now, and you smile. Just a little. “I guess he’s not so bad.”

You never do get a chance to meet Taehyung’s friends that night. By the time he joins back up with you and Victoria he’s by himself, a little more drunk than when he left, and ready to go home. And for once, instead of fighting him, instead of insisting you stay an hour more just to make sure you’ve done all of your rounds, you let him take you home. 

Taehyung has been spending a lot more time at the penthouse lately. Perhaps his family’s business happenings are slow, or perhaps he’s actually starting to get more comfortable with inhabiting the same space as you, but he has definitely found himself quite the rhythm in that house of yours. He even comes down to the first floor rather regularly. 

When he’s home, Taehyung is a lot quieter than you thought he would be. Granted, you don’t exactly know what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t him ruminating in one of the home offices while the Beatles play softly on the stereo, nor was it him reading a book in French in one of those big old grandfather chairs in the living room. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think he was still absent in that old way of his, ghostlike and silent, like he was occupying the space instead of truly living in it. 

But you do know better, and even though Taehyung is just as noiseless as he used to be, the house already feels a little bit fuller. 

Perhaps the reason you’ve become so keenly aware of his presence over the past few days is because of the notable fact that Taehyung has indeed held up his end of the deal, and no longer goes out with his friends in the evening. Or at all, for that matter. Which strikes you as rather odd, because he’s the epitome of a social butterfly, a thousand contacts in his phone and a whole group of friends he regularly spends time with. Maybe his parents told him to tone down the public appearances, too. And that’s understandable, but don’t they know Taehyung? Can’t they see how much he thrives on social interaction? It almost makes you feel… bad for him. 

To remedy this, you suggest he invite over his friends. Just for a few hours, you swear you won’t mind. 

“Seriously?” Taehyung looks positively shocked when you tell him he can, standing in the doorway of the office he seems to have designated as his own. 

“Yeah, why not?” You say with a carefree shrug. Besides, you’ve never met his friends anyway, and now seems as good a chance as any to introduce yourself. You are his wife, after all. “Unless your parents say you can’t. But it’s not a problem for me.”

“You… don’t mind if I have my friends over for a bit? Honest to God, we’re probably just going to play FIFA for three hours straight,” Taehyung says like it’s some sort of warning. Like the idea of him and his buddies from college are going to sit in the living room screaming at the television, leaving you alone to do literally anything else, is somehow bad. 

You laugh. “It’s fine, really. Call them. I’d actually quite like to meet them.”

Taehyung picks up his phone almost instantly, as if you’ll change your mind in the next five minutes so he better get them over soon, and already you can see the way his face is lighting up, the way his eyes crinkle as he chats to his friends and the way his lips curl upwards when they crack a joke back. Isn’t it obvious? He feeds off of the energy of others. Who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?

As it turns out, Taehyung’s friends actually end up being quite nice anyway. 

He invites over three, because four people is apparently the perfect number for a hardcore game of FIFA on his Playstation, and they are all very handsome men you have never met before. You suppose like attracts like, after all. 

“You must be Y/N,” says the first one you see when you open the door to let them in. He doesn’t look a day over twenty-one—in fact, he could probably still pass as a college student—and has rather long dark hair that drapes over the sides of his face, covering the edges of his big doe eyes. “I’m Jungkook. This is Jimin and Hoseok.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you say, stepping aside so they can enter.

The shortest one, Jimin, grins in response, and Hoseok, behind him, gives you a wave. It’s refreshing enough as is, not having to exchange formal greetings and shake each other’s hands like you do with everyone else. Hoseok even gives you a bit of a nod, too.“You, too,” he says. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Oh, have they, now? Interesting. 

“All good things, I hope,” you say awkwardly, forcing a small smile as Taehyung comes bounding into the room, ears perked up at the sound of his friends’ voices. 

“Definitely. Thanks for having us over. We didn’t wanna intrude on the sanctity of your new place,” Jungkook says, gesturing vaguely to the house as a whole. He’s got this excellent, genuine grin on his face, the kind that people who are just happy to be alive always wear. 

Already he’s said enough to charm the shit out of you. Who knew Taehyung’s friends could be so… friendly? “Please, you’re welcome any time. I was just thinking Taehyung was getting a little lonely.”

“There he is!” Jimin shouts excitedly when he spots Taehyung behind the two of you, looking a lot more casual than he normally does when he’s alone with you, having abandoned his usual silky button-down and wide-leg slacks for a loose shirt and some sweatpants. You didn’t even know he had those things in his closet. 

“Hey, everyone’s here!” Taehyung exclaims, just as happy. He squeezes past you to give the three of them a big hug, and it almost makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be in. Even though this is literally your house. 

“Nice place you got here,” Hoseok comments, eyes drifting around the living room. “Very minimalist, I like it.”

“Sure hope you don’t spill anything on those nice leather couches of yours,” Jungkook says. 

“Yeah, unlike Kook, who has spilled tomato soup on every shirt he’s ever owned,” Jimin jokes, earning laughs from Taehyung and Hoseok and a punch from Jungkook. 

“Moved after we married,” Taehyung says simply, shrugging his shoulders. It’s an easy enough explanation for why it doesn’t look at all lived in. Here’s hoping none of them realize you sleep in different bedrooms. 

“Yeah, congratulations on that, man,” Hoseok says, giving Taehyung a celebratory nudge in the shoulder. “Who’d have thought, out of the four of us, Kim Taehyung would be the first one to settle down.”

The way Taehyung’s body tenses up at that comment does not go unnoticed by you. 

“Seriously, I would have never guessed,” Jimin adds on. “You’re showing us a new side of yourself, Tae. But I’m happy for you.”

Normally, you’d probably take offense at such blatant insinuations that your husband was a former playboy, especially from his equally noncommittal friends. But truthfully, it’s not like you were blind to Taehyung’s transgressions either. And what matters most is the fact that since it was announced publicly, you are the only woman he’s been seen with since your engagement. 

“Me too. You seem to really like her. I’m glad,” Jungkook pipes up, sending a smile your way. You definitely feel like you don’t belong in this conversation. “I think the two of you will be good for each other.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Taehyung says with a nervous chuckle. His eyes quickly shoot your way, the two of you meeting gazes, your hesitant expressions matching. At least the two of you are on the same page. “Alright, alright, enough,” Jungkook says. “Who’s ready to get their ass kicked in FIFA?”

“You’re on, Jeon. But when I win, you owe me a five-star dinner,” Hoseok challenges. 

“Deal.”

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately crowd towards the couch, and you take that as your cue to leave. But before you can disappear down the hallway, you and Taehyung look awkwardly at each other, hands tied. It’s not like you can say anything to them. 

The truth is that, sometimes, it’s easy to forget that not everyone else knows that your marriage is just for business. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that there are still people out there that believe you marry for love. 

Isn’t it crazy to think that you used to be one of those people, too?

“Hey,” Taehyung says when you meet up at the bottom of the stairs again. 

“Hey,” you respond. 

“You look nice.”

You scoff a little to yourself. What, are you exchanging compliments now? “Thanks,” you say, looking him up and down. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Like he ever is. 

“I knew you had taste,” Taehyung teases, and it’s the sort of comment that would have earned him a melon ball to the face back when the two of you were teenagers at a debutante ball, but today only earns him a roll of your eyes as you join hands. You don’t have anything big tonight—just a small dinner to celebrate some sort of business accomplishment for your family, which means that all you have to manage is not ending up in some sort of food fight by the end of the night. 

“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” You retort easily as you get into the car. 

You don’t normally speak a lot on the way to events. Not that you ever did, but even as your relationship has slowly faded from pure hatred to attempts at compromise, you both seem to relish in being able to stare out of your respective backseat windows and into the city that surrounds you. Just out of curiosity, about halfway through the ride you look towards Taehyung to see what he’s up to, and find yourself genuinely surprised to see him leaning against the window with his eyes closed. Is he sleeping? A couple more minutes of gazing at him tells you he is, because his body has gone lax and his breathing has evened out, soft snores leaving his mouth. This ride can’t be longer than twenty minutes. Has he not been sleeping well? Up in that enormous second-floor bedroom of his?

He’s awake by the time the car parks outside the restaurant, this fancy name brand steak place that was chosen solely because the biggest beneficiaries of your family’s new business deal are two sixty-year-old men whose entire diet consists of beef and beer. No cameras tonight, just a small family affair. You and Taehyung hold hands as you enter the restaurant and are led to the private room in the back anyway. 

You and him are seated on the far end of the long, rectangular table, alongside all of the other adult children dragged along to celebrate something that has no effect on their lives. But it’s nice, because the space alone prevents your parents from actively speaking with you, and you and Taehyung can stay in your own little bubble, only chiming in for a toast when necessary. 

“What are you going to get?” He asks you, the two of you gazing at the menu. No matter how fancy this place is, all the options seem to boil down to steak, steak, steak, steak, and caesar salad. Classic. 

“Oh, so you actually care now?” You counter, an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

Taehyung laughs. “Aren’t I supposed to?”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, wise to his usual shenanigans. It’s hard to tell if Taehyung really means what he says, or if it’s all for show. But perhaps he’s asking because he’s genuinely curious, since no one else seems to be paying you any attention. 

“The choices on this menu are simply overwhelming,” you say, motioning to the six options in front of you. 

“I know, I’m so torn,” Taehyung jokes, making you huff out a little giggle. At least he’s still got that same sense of humor. 

You both end up going for a pretty classic steak dinner, which neither of the two of you finish because the damn portions are the size of your head. Dinner is, in and of itself, absolutely mindless, all of your parents talking about things that don’t concern you whatsoever, leaving you and Taehyung to your own devices as you desperately try to make the night go by faster. 

At one point, you notice Taehyung’s foot brushing up against yours, the leather of his loafers brushing against the toe of your patent heel. Thinking someone of it, you push back, foot nudging his back to his own chair. It’s not a second later that Taehyung retaliates, the two of you dancing around each other underneath the table. 

If the two of you were any younger, or perhaps any less resigned to your fate, there’s no doubt in your mind you would be attempting to get Taehyung to fall off his chair in an effort to do the same to you. Footsie means war. But when the both of you know that, at the end of the day, you’ll still be going home to the same place, and waking up the next morning in the same house, it doesn’t feel like this is a battle.

It’s just life. 

Eventually, you meet Taehyung’s eyes with a hesitant smile, shoe pressed against his, stuck in ceasefire. And for once, he doesn’t have that devilish look in his eye, that smug little grin on his face that tells you that he’s going to make you regret whatever it is you just did. He’s just smiling back at you, all pink lips, having found real fun in the little things. 

And that makes you happy. 

The rest of the dinner is uneventful, which, in your book, is about as good as a dinner can go. You cheers to the future of your parents’ relationship with their newfound partners and say a quick goodbye to them both, hurrying out of there before they can ask you any questions on your relationship with your husband. But you don’t spend the car ride in silence on the way back. 

Instead, you say, “Have you been sleeping well?”

The question seems to catch Taehyung off guard. He was already getting in position to take a power nap on the ride home, head pressed up against the window of the car. 

“What?”

“Have you been sleeping well?” You repeat. “I noticed you fell asleep on the way here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess,” he says, a hand scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, it’s been hard adjusting, I suppose. But I’ll get over it.”

Hard adjusting? You’ve been together for nearly three months now. Three months worth of sleeping in the same penthouse bedroom, on the same soft-as-a-cloud mattress, underneath the same weighted blanket. And he’s still having trouble? 

“Oh. I mean, I just wanted to ask because you seem really tired lately.”

“I got a lot on my plate, what can I say,” Taehyung says with an empty smile, forcing a chuckle. “I’ll be fine, seriously. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Isn’t that my job?” You remind him. “I am your wife.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything to that. He just lets out an audible breath, the kind you let out when you’re amused and have something snarky to say, but don’t have the energy to get the words off your tongue. 

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet. 

When you get home, you place your house keys in the bowl by the entrance and take off your shoes, just about ready to take a hot shower and collapse in bed, when Taehyung’s voice stops you. 

“Hey,” he begins, almost hesitantly. You look back at him inquisitively. “I was thinking, maybe, if you wanted, we could start sleeping in the same bed?”

You scrunch your nose up. Not in disgust, but in surprise. In bewilderment. What brought this on, all of a sudden?

“Really?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. “I thought we liked the separate bed thing. Gives us privacy.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says with a shrug, “but—I don’t know, it’s stupid. I just thought, you know, since we’re married and all. And it’s been three months.” He looks about two seconds away from backtracking, from shaking his head and going upstairs before you can say anything else. 

“Alright,” you say quickly, nodding your assent. Taehyung’s eyes widen when he hears the word, like he had completely expected you to shut him down the moment he made the suggestion. “If that’s what you want. We can try it.”

“You sure?” He asks, that same hesitant smile from earlier lacing his features. It’s strange. He almost looks… sweet. Nervous. 

You grin back at him. “Yeah, I am.”

Taehyung lets you grab some of your toiletries and your pajamas from your designated bedroom before you head up the stairs together, towards the bedroom he’s claimed for himself. Funnily enough, this is the first time you’ve been in his room. Three months of living together and you haven’t dared step foot on the second floor. 

You don’t know what you were expecting when he opens the door to let you inside. Maybe a room that screamed ‘Taehyung’ a little more than this one does. One that looks like an actual human has been living here. But other than one of his classic silk button-downs draped over a chair, there’s not a shred of evidence someone has actually been sleeping here. You could honestly be fooled rather easily that the shirt, too, is just decoration. 

“You can pick a side,” Taehyung says casually. He grabs his own sleepwear—an old t-shirt and some sweats—and heads into the bathroom to change. 

You wonder why Taehyung has had such a difficult time adjusting. This room is about as lavish as a bedroom can get. And yet. 

Sitting down on the left side of the bed, you begin to remove your own clothes, unzipping tonight’s dress and stepping quickly into your pajamas, hurrying to make sure Taehyung doesn’t catch you half-naked. How funny is that, you think to yourself. You’ve been married for three months and you still can’t bear the thought of Taehyung seeing you without a shirt on. 

When Taehyung comes out of the bathroom, hair all messy and clothes all casual, he grins lazily to himself. “I sleep on the right anyway,” he comments mindlessly. 

Within twenty minutes the both of you are about as ready to pass out as you have ever been, the only lights still on the ones on your respective nightstands. 

“Goodnight,” Taehyung says, reaching an arm over to switch his off. 

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning off yours as well. And all of a sudden, the room is shrouded in darkness. 

You fall asleep instantly. 

When Taehyung wakes up the next morning, the first thing he says to you is that he hasn’t slept that well in ages. 

“You slept together?” Victoria shrieks, so loud you actually have to move your phone away from your ear as you punch in the code inside the elevator for access to your floor. 

“We did not sleep together,” you emphasize. “Okay, well, we sleep together, as in, in the same bed. But we are fully clothed. And not the slightest bit interested in doing anything other than sleeping.”

“I thought you said you liked having your own space,” Victoria points out. “When was the first time you—uh…” she pauses to find the right words, “shared a bed?”

“A couple weeks ago. It’s really not so bad, I don’t know why you’re so hung up over it,” you say, lips pursed. You squeeze the phone between the side of your head and your shoulder, hands full of shopping bags, the string of the handles burning your skin. Maybe you should look into getting a personal shopper. 

“I’m hung up over it because, for the longest time, you have sworn off Kim Taehyung. Called him dead to you. Insulted him every chance you get.” 

You scoff. You don’t need reminding of how much you hated him, how much you can’t believe you have to spend the rest of your life with him. “It’s different now. We’re married. And he said he wasn’t sleeping well. I felt bad.”

“He wasn’t?”

“Enough about him,” you say, shutting her up. You don’t feel like talking about him with Victoria anymore. “Word through the grapevine says that your parents are actually thinking of letting you start your own company?”

It’s enough to distract Victoria. For the rest of the ride in the elevator, she talks animatedly about a new streaming service her parents are considering letting her launch, under their parent business, of course, but it’s her own company nonetheless. And you’re proud of her. Proud she could do something your parents would never dream of letting you do. Proud she could make that happen. 

You push open the front door with the side of your hip after entering in the security code, phone still snug between your ear and your shoulder, when you hear Taehyung call out your name. 

He comes into view from the kitchen, which surprises you because you have, on multiple occasions, made fun of how much of a disaster chef he is, especially because he’s admitted to you he’s not a very good cook. 

“I made brownies,” he says, holding out a plate of the chocolate treats in front of you. Instinct has you dropping your bags on the floor by your feet and reaching out, but you eye him first, suspicious. 

“I have to go,” you tell Victoria, hanging up before she even gets a chance to object to your sudden departure. “You made these?”

“Yes, I did,” Taehyung says, rather proud. 

“And the kitchen is… still standing?” You ask, skeptical. 

Taehyung frowns at you, clearly unimpressed. “How bad of a chef do you think I am?”

“Pretty bad,” you admit with a shrug. 

Taehyung pouts sadly to himself for a moment. “These are good, I swear. Nothing weird in them like vegetables or anything either. I used a box mix.”

“No wonder they look so nice,” you comment snidely, hesitant hand reaching out to grab one. They feel like brownies. So that’s good. 

“Hey, I was the one who had to crack the eggs and shit. Three eggs! And not one eggshell in the bowl!” Taehyung says, clearly very pleased with himself. 

You laugh at his enthusiasm, taking a bite. It’s good. And exactly what you needed after a long day of shopping. “I’m proud of you. They taste good.”

“I knew you wouldn’t doubt me.” Taehyung grins.

“They’re really good, actually,” You amend, genuinely surprised. And the best part is that you can count at least ten brownies left on that plate, which means that you get at least five more. Which, if you had any less self-restraint, you would probably eat all at once within the day. 

“I’m glad you like them. They’re all for us, you know. No one else to share them with,” he says.

“Honestly, I’m probably going to finish them by tonight. You’ll have to make more tomorrow,” you say sheepishly. 

“We can make some together,” Taehyung suggests. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you respond. The words come off your mouth easily, tumbling from your lips without you having to think about it. You aren’t saying them because you have to. You’re saying them because you want to. Because baking with Taehyung doesn’t actually sound too bad. Especially if it means more brownies. 

“You’ve, uh, you’ve got something,” Taehyung says, gesturing vaguely to the side of his lip. 

“Oh, I do? Yikes,” you say, a little embarrassed. Your hand comes up to wipe at the left side of your mouth. “Is it gone?”

“Wait, here, let me do it,” Taehyung says, reaching out towards you. He presses his palm against the side of your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his enormous hands, and all at once it feels like your skin is on fire. 

Your body freezes up at the touch, at the way his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth, right against your lips, wiping away nothing but a goddamn brownie crumb. You look at him, look right at him, how can you look anywhere else when he’s right in front of you like this, and it feels like you are caught in his gaze, a rain droplet trapped on a web, a bee stuck in its own honey. His big, brown eyes sparkle from the ceiling lights, a chocolate sky that mirrors the food he just made for you. He looks at you and his eyes are so soft, so open, so happy to be looking right back at you. God. 

“There,” he says, a moment too late. 

“Thanks,” you stammer out, speechless otherwise. 

You both stand there, looking at each other, wordless expressions drawn all over your faces, no idea what to do next. 

After a while, Taehyung breaks the silence. “Do you wanna order takeout tonight?”

“Okay,” you nod, still a little breathless. Taehyung smiles before retreating back to the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entranceway, shopping bags abandoned by your side. 

You look over to where he’s vanished. There’s a part of you that wishes he hadn’t left. A part of you that makes you want to see him again. 

Phone calls from your mother are never good. The last time she called… well, you know how that went. So when you see her contact information light up your home screen, it’s only instinct that you feel your heart rate spike. 

“Hello?” The voice that comes out doesn’t even sound like yours. 

There’s no good way to put what comes next. Your grandmother has died. Heart attack. The paramedics got there too late. It was over before it even started. 

For a moment, for a split second, it feels like everything is frozen. Like the world has come to standstill. Your mother’s voice echoes in your ears, suspended in time, the words turning into stone as they crash onto the floor. And when they do, it is as if everything comes back to life. 

Truth be told, you don’t know how long you stay there, sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, your phone resting lifelessly in the palm of your hand. It feels at once like an eternity and only a second in time. You spoke to your grandmother two days ago. You had promised that you and Taehyung would visit her soon. How can this be happening?

Your phone buzzes relentlessly in your hands, condolences pouring in from every person in your contacts, sorry’s and heart emoticons and If you need anything, I’m always here’s filling up your screen. There’s a part of you that vaguely registers your mother, alongside some of the other members of your family, trying to call you. But nothing can seem to shake you. 

Until—

“Y/N? You still up here?”

You hear Taehyung before you see him. Hear his voice, hear his footsteps, hear the door creak open as he enters your bedroom. Slowly, almost sluggishly, you twist around to look at him, the mere act knocking the wind out of you. Or maybe you were already breathless. 

“Hey, you alright?” Taehyung knows instantly that something is wrong. 

“My grandmother died.” The words sit heavy on your tongue. There’s no point in not telling him. He’ll find out soon enough. He’s… he’s family, isn’t he?

“What?” Taehyung freezes in place. “I—I’m so sorry to hear that, Y/N. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, voice weak but steady. You blink up at him, once, twice, three times, and then suddenly you feel tears running down your cheeks. 

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else. He rushes to your side and sits himself down on the bed next to you, arms wrapping around your body. And you don’t think about the fact that it’s him, about the fact that this is the closest the two of you have ever been. You just let yourself be engulfed in his frame, let yourself be enveloped in his hold as the tears stream down your skin, little hiccups jolting your throat. You close your eyes and press yourself into his arms, head resting against his chest, and wish so desperately that so many things about your life were just a little bit different. 

It must be at least five minutes before either one of you dares to move. Your phone begins to rattle incessantly, that familiar and insistent buzz that the both of you are hard-pressed to ignore. 

“I think you should answer that,” Taehyung whispers into your skin, lips right by your forehead. 

“Yeah,” you sniffle, sitting up next to him and wiping the remnants of wetness by your eyes. Well, Taehyung’s seen you cry. There’s no going back now. “You’re probably right.” You look down at the phone. It’s your father. 

“I’ll be downstairs, okay? Unless you want me to stay,” he offers, looking hesitant. 

You shake your head. “No, it’s—it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need me,” he makes you give him a nod of understanding before he finally gets up, hands slowly removing themselves from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. Remnants of warmth. Suddenly, you feel much colder. Hardly a minute later he’s out of the room, and you can hear his distant footsteps as they make their way down the stairs. 

Sighing, blinking, and swallowing all at once, you pick up. 

The call passes by in a blur. Your father says the will will take at least half a year to be executed, but that the funeral is already being planned. Your grandmother had hoped you would eulogize her. You agree, but you have no idea what you will say. He says Taehyung is invited but does not need to come if he cannot make it. He says a lot of other things too, about your mother, about your cousins, about your aunts and uncles and your poor grandfather, who passed five years ago, but you can’t even remember them moments after he’s said them. 

When he hangs up, the tears on your cheeks have dried, patches of them left along your skin. You head to the bathroom, getting off your bed for the first time that day, and try to wash away everything that has stained the morning. A part of you doesn’t even want to bother, just wants to slug downstairs and eat as much sugary cereal as you can get your hands on, but you can’t go down there looking like this. Looking so helpless. 

By the time you reach the kitchen, Taehyung is already standing there, on the opposite side of the counter island, a big stack of pancakes in front of him. They look mouth-watering. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Thought you might want something to cheer you up.”

“Did you make these?” You ask, a little endeared. That was thoughtful of him. 

“Yeah. They’re still warm,” Taehyung says. He holds out a fork. 

You grin. 

The funeral is a week later. It sucks in every way that something can suck. But not in the same way your wedding sucked, or even the announcement of your engagement. It sucks because it’s a funeral, because you have to stare down your grandmother’s casket when a part of you still doesn’t even believe that she’s gone. Because everyone there is so sad, so melancholy, dressed in all black and looking down at their feet. Because everyone is so sorry for you, so sorry for your loss, everyone has nothing but condolences to offer you. What will those do? They won’t bring her back. They won’t change things. They won’t make you feel even the slightest bit better. 

Taehyung comes. He comes because he offers, and because you want him to. You want someone whose hand to hold. Want someone to smile at you when you’re speaking in front of your entire extended family and trying not to cry. You want someone who is familiar, and warm, and there for you. 

And most of all, you want someone who won’t keep the conversation going when you get home. 

“Do you wanna order Chinese?” He asks, coming into the living room, where you have been sulking on the couch ever since you stepped foot inside the door. 

“That sounds nice,” you force out. 

“Okay. Your usual?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t bother asking how Taehyung already remembers what you like to order when you’ve only gotten Chinese twice in the last three months. 

“I’ll call them.” He disappears off into the kitchen. 

What you do appreciate about Taehyung is how he has defaulted to food as a comfort measure, and how the thought alone genuinely brightens you up a little bit. You don’t know each other very well—still, after three months, you couldn’t even say his favorite color—but he is doing his best, and he is trying his hardest. In some ways, you were unlucky to marry him. To marry someone you didn’t love. To be forced into a union you had no say in, with someone you had so much antagonistic history with. 

But in some ways, your luck has changed. In some ways, marrying him was perhaps the best thing that could happen to you. Taehyung is snarky, a little devilish, and absolutely full of himself, but he is not thoughtless. He is not heartless. He has proven that he is willing to put in the work. That he can grow to care. To change. To compromise. And isn’t that the luckiest thing you could have gotten?

“I’m sure you’re probably sick of hearing people tell you they’re sorry for your loss.”

His voice breaks your reverie, carrying throughout the wide open space of your living room. He’s grinning honestly where he stands, slowly making his way over to you. 

“Kind of, yeah,” you admit. “It’s not going to bring her back. Most of those people probably don’t even mean it.”

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung says, sitting down next to you. “I’m sure they do.”

You look at him skeptically. 

“I mean, they’re sorry for your loss because that loss is causing you pain. And that sucks,” Taehyung explains, albeit a little less eloquently than you thought he would. “I know it sucks for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Taehyung says honestly, shrugging to himself. 

You scoff a little to yourself. “I would have thought my downfall would be the exact thing the great Kim Taehyung would wish for himself.”

“Maybe a couple of years ago.”

You narrow your eyes. 

“Okay, maybe even a few months ago,” Taehyung admits with a laugh, making you smile, ever so slightly. “But it’s different now. I like it when you’re happy. When you’re snarky and funny and a little evil. Seeing you like this… I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“That’s called empathy,” you point out. 

“I’m trying to tell you that seeing you sad makes me sad, stop being a smartass,” Taehyung chides, and that really makes you grin. “There. There’s that smile I was looking for.”

“You’re so annoying,” you say, even though there’s no malice behind it. You give him a little push, palms of your hand pressing lightly against his shoulder as you roll your eyes. 

“Only for you,” he promises. He manages to grab a hold of your wrist as your hand meets his torso, pulling you into him as he wraps an arm around your torso. You gasp a little at the sensation, head falling against his body, fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. He gives your side a comforting rub. “I’m sorry today was so shitty.”

“It was,” you agree. “But Chinese food will make it a little bit better.”

Taehyung looks positively scandalized. “What? ‘Chinese food will make it better’? But not your loving, doting husband?” 

You pretend to think for a little bit, tilting your head up to the sky as you tap your chin with your finger. “Okay. Maybe that, too,” you cave after a bit of waiting, just to be extra bothersome. 

“That’s what I thought,” Taehyung says proudly, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. You can feel his grip tighten as he presses you against his body, letting you rest your head on his side. It feels like the longest hug ever, like you’re wrapped up in a weighted blanket. Only it’s not a blanket. It’s Taehyung. It’s your husband. 

He’s your husband.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he says, and it sounds a lot like a promise. 

You nod against him, letting your eyes drift shut. Things are pretty awful right now. Your grandmother’s dead. The funeral was the saddest family event you have ever attended. You have no idea what’s supposed to happen next. 

But he’s right. He seems to be right a lot these days, actually. 

Tomorrow will be better.

Taehyung lets you sleep in for the next few days. Next several days, actually. Every time you wake up it’s close to noon and your husband is nowhere to be seen, the right side of the bed cold to the touch. It’s nothing to be worried about, though, because you can still see the noticeable dip in the bed from where he lies upon it, sinking his weight into the mattress. Taehyung’s an early bird and you’ve been having fitful nights ever since your grandmother passed. 

Today, you pull yourself out from underneath the covers around noon, sluggish and still tired, squinting as the near-afternoon light streams through the enormous windows of the bedroom. Taehyung must have thought to keep the curtains open today. 

You pull on the first casual clothes you see in your shared closet, some wide-leg sweatpants and a drapey t-shirt, and trudge downstairs like a raccoon to a trash can, hoping to fish through the kitchen cabinets to find something to eat. 

Taehyung is, as far as you can tell, nowhere to be seen. You can’t seem to hear him anywhere, and a part of you wonders where he’s at when you stumble upon the note left on the granite counter. 

Had a meeting downtown, be back around 1! There should be smoked salmon and some cream cheese and bagels in the fridge. 

Taehyung.

You chuckle to yourself as you read his flowy handwriting, amused that he thought to let you know of, of all things, the available breakfast foods in the kitchen. You check the clock. It’s nearly noon. Which means you have just over an hour of the house all to yourself. 

Having the house to yourself for five minutes is infrequent enough as it is, let alone for a whole hour. So often is Taehyung around, somewhere, holing himself up in one of the dozens of rooms or mindlessly wandering down the hallways. And for how much Taehyung is present, the funny part is that you still have no idea what he gets up to most of the time. Despite your voluntary abandoning of the separate bedroom rule, the two of you are still firm proponents of the sanctity of your personal spaces. There are rooms in the penthouse Taehyung has never been in, rooms filled with your clothes and makeup and accessories for when stylists come over before an event. A sewing room that you had specifically asked your parents for, because a part of you never let go of that childhood dream of being a fashion designer. 

And there are rooms in the penthouse that you have never been in. Rooms with dark wooden doors that have always been kept closed, that you have never stepped foot in. It’s not that you aren’t curious as to what Taehyung gets up to. He could have a goddamn evil lair in one of those rooms and you would be none the wiser. But you don’t go, because he doesn’t go into your rooms. Because you two, despite all the vows you have broken, promised each other you wouldn’t.

An hour to yourself is almost a good enough excuse for you to head back up to the bedroom and take a nap. Not that you don’t get enough sleep on a regular basis, or that you even had a fitful night last night—hell, you woke up near noon today and already you want to go back to sleep—but what else is there to do when he’s not around? What new freedoms have suddenly been given to you?

You head back upstairs, much less groggy after that delicious bagel of yours, when you catch a whiff of what smells like wet paint coming from down the hallway. It’s potent and immediately invades your senses, prompting you to wonder if that has always been there, or just magically appeared. Maybe you were so sleepy earlier, you didn’t notice it. 

Well, you notice it now. Unable to help yourself, you start to wander down the hallway, towards the source of the smell. God, it stinks. It takes you back to those days in middle school, when you would spray paint projects inside a tiny little classroom, have to step outside for fifteen minutes while you cracked the windows and aired it out. It gets stronger the further down the corridor you go, like a thick, smelly cloud stationed firmly within the walls of the penthouse. And then you realize where it’s coming from. 

It’s an art studio. 

A very messy art studio, you amend to yourself, as you peek inside. The door is wide open, and all of the windows are popped too, but the extra air circulation doesn’t seem to have made a dent in the scent. And all over the floor, the walls, and the tables are canvases covered in paint, denim jackets and pants and shirts with these wide, unafraid brushstrokes. Open cans of spray paint lie discarded on the hardwood floor stained with splotches of red, yellow, and green. 

Is this what Taehyung does in his free time? Is this where he goes, this bright, sunny room at the end of the second floor hallway? Is this what he is making?

You look down in awe at the clothes resting on the floor, splayed out to maximize dry time. Abstract faces, landscapes, and words are painted onto the backs of jackets, the fronts of old white t-shirts. What hasn’t made it onto the clothes has been put on canvases instead, blurs of color mixed together in this purposeful pattern, confidence emanating from every stroke, every dot. It’s not art in the way that the gorgeous landscapes of Monet, the picture-perfect portraits of Kahlo, the messy, unplanned splatters of Pollock are. It’s art in a different way. In a Taehyung way. 

Who knew he loved it so much? 

You almost feel like an invader encroaching on his territory when you lean down to start cleaning up some of the mess, throwing out empty spray-paint cans and tossing out grey paint water. You don’t dare touch any of the work, don’t dare try to move it. You do what you can, washing out the brushes resting in the water and cleaning up the wet splotches of paint on the hardwood. Over time, the thick scent of still-wet paint slowly fades, disappearing out the window as the fresh afternoon air seeps in. And you stand there, in a room full of art, in a room full of pieces that Taehyung has undoubtedly poured his heart into creating, and you smile to yourself. 

That’s how Taehyung finds you ten minutes later, peering into the room after declaring that his meeting had ended early. 

“Thought I’d find you in here,” Taehyung says with a grin as you jump at the sound of his voice, eyes widen when you turn around to see him standing by the door. 

“Oh, hey,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Maybe because this is the farthest room in the house from the front door,” Taehyung teases lightly, coming up behind you. “I see you found my studio.”

“I know I’m not allowed in here,” you admit. 

Taehyung scoffs. “Who says?”

“Didn’t we both agree on that?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. I think we just reached an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t invade each other’s personal space. But it was not in the fine print, no.”

“The fine print of what?”

“That deal we made.”

Right. That deal you made, four months ago, That deal, where the two of you agreed to pretend to be in love with each other during public appearances so you wouldn’t get burned at the stake by your families. Where the two of you agreed not to interact with each other otherwise because you hated each other so much. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say distantly, feeling naive for already forgetting about it. It doesn’t seem to have slipped Taehyung’s mind whatsoever. 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind that you’re up here,” Taehyung says, interrupting that piercing little voice in the back of your head that is asking you why on earth you forgot about that deal in the first place.

“Yeah, I—” You scratch at the nape of your neck, trying to find the words to say. “It just smelled like paint, so I wanted to see what you get up too. And it’s this, apparently.” You motion vaguely to the entire room.

“You sound… surprised,” Taehyung muses correctly. 

“I guess I am,” you surmise. “I’m rather impressed, too, actually.”

“Really?” It’s Taehyung’s turn to sound surprised. 

“Yeah,” you tell him honestly, looking into his eyes. “I—you know, I just came in here because the entire hallway smelled like wet paint and I wanted to know why. But I didn’t know you loved art so much.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Taehyung points out. 

You suppose that’s true. You don’t know his favorite color. His favorite song. His favorite book. For a long time, you didn’t know what he got up to on his side of the penthouse. You don’t know how he met his friends. What he studied in university. Who he has loved in the past. Who he loves now. You don’t know why he does the things he does, and why he doesn’t do the things he doesn’t do. 

But you do know his Chinese takeout order. 

And you do know his hobbies. Well, one of them, at least. 

Who’s to say you can’t learn more?

“Well,” you start with a smile. “I’m your wife, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I begin to learn?”

Taehyung picks up what you’re putting down instantly, grinning in response. “Only if you’ll tell me things about you, too,” he requisitions. 

“I will,” you promise. It’s the easiest one you’ve ever had to make. 

His face is light, bright, bathed in the rays of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmer as they meet yours, golden flecks more pronounced like this, in this gorgeous, open space, daylight streaming through the windows. Looking at him makes you feel like you are surrounded by warmth, makes you feel like the sun is opening its arms out to you. He has always been gorgeous. Beautiful. But looking at him like this, standing in the middle of a room filled with all the things he loves, a yellow halo surrounding him—he is ethereal. 

Taehyung smiles. “Then I will, too.”

The hand-holding comes naturally tonight.

The funny thing is, actually, you don’t need to hold hands at this gathering. It’s not an event. Or a public appearance. It’s not even a business dinner. It’s your aunt’s sixtieth birthday party, reserved exclusively for family. Isn’t that strange? That Taehyung is, technically, family now?

For so long you had vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. Vowed to stick it to him whenever and wherever you could, do anything you could to get on his nerves, rile him up. Vowed that when you, one day, took over your family affairs, you would never, ever invite him. Make it known that he wasn’t to be a part of your life. And yet, here you are. Clinging to him despite being well-acquainted with—loved by, even—every other person in the room. Holding his hand like a goddamn lifeline. 

To be fair, Taehyung doesn’t look a hair out of place here. Dressed relatively casually, a smart sweater with a collared shirt underneath it, he smiles warmly at all of your relatives and presents your aunt with a beautiful and very expensive scarf the two of you had commissioned from a designer in Italy, which she absolutely loves. She pinches his cheek and proceeds to wear it for the rest of the night. 

“Damn,” you murmur to yourself as you wander around your aunt’s house, hand wrapped around his arm. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

“When was the last time you were here?” Taehyung asks. 

The question actually makes you think for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe five years ago? Last couple of birthdays I was overseas or in school. Had to send her a card.”

“Bet your parents were real pleased with that,” he jokes, making you both laugh. At least you two will always be able to share your experiences of domineering and influential parents with each other. 

“Oh, I’m sure. Just as pleased as they were when they realized how much we hated each other.” You expect that little jest to elicit a laugh out of Taehyung as well, but he just smiles tightly, huffing out a breath of acknowledgement. 

“Eh, it’s not like that now, is it?” He offers up. 

“I suppose not,” you muse, sitting down together on her ancient grandma couch in the living room. No matter how rich your family gets, she’ll never get rid of this thing, that’s for sure. 

One thing you’ve picked up over time is that, for every second Taehyung spends basking in the spotlight, he spends an equal amount of time lingering by the wall, watching the rest of the world turn without him. He’s an observer. He is one by nature, feeling an irresistible pull to understand humans in a way only artists could ever do. He sits down next to you and watches your family in an environment where they can relax, where they can feel comfortable and be casual with one another. 

Very seldom have you ever brought friends to events like these. Small family affairs. But Taehyung isn’t a friend, is he? No, he’s your husband. He belongs here just as much as you do. 

“My family seems to really like you,” you point out. Not that anybody has ever harbored as much disdain for him as you. Your parents called him respectable and polite when they told you you were to be wed. Your grandmother had said he was a dashing young man. He doesn’t exactly have to reach far to be loved around here. 

“That’s my job, isn’t it?” He replies snidely. 

“Oh, just take the compliment,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Taehyung always has to be so difficult. “I’m surprised you aren’t nervous as hell. Last boyfriend I brought to meet my parents was shaking in his Louis Vuitton shoes.”

“Last boyfriend, huh?” Taehyung’s interest has been sufficiently piqued. “And, uh, how many of those have you had?”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, smile twitching on your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Heartbreaker.” Pretty rich of Taehyung to be asking you such a question when he’s probably had more girlfriends than you can count on both hands. “Not as many as you’ve had girlfriends, that’s for sure.”

“Guess I’m a lot different than all those trashy guys you’ve dated, aren’t I?” He asks, an eyebrow raised as he looks at you. 

“You are?”

Taehyung nods assertively. “Well, yeah. First of all, I’m your husband. Second of all, your parents love me. Third of all, you love me, too.”

You scoff. “Don’t humble yourself. You don’t know me that well.”

“Speaking of which,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as he points to you knowingly, “how about you tell me a little fact about yourself? It’s my job to learn about you, isn’t it?”

“That is my line, watch it,” you sneer, pointing back at him. You wrack your brain for a fact that you can tell him, something more exciting than your favorite color but less weird than one of those terrible icebreaker exercises you had to do in college seminars. Something that has pertinence to who you are. Who you’ve become. “Alright. I used to want to be a fashion designer when I was little.”

Now that catches Taehyung off guard. “Really?” He says, genuinely intrigued. 

You shrug. “Yeah. I learned to sew when I was really little. Been tailoring and hemming clothes all my life. But I always wanted to design my own stuff.”

“Is that what’s in your room?” Taehyung asks. “A sewing machine?”

“Bingo.”

“Wow,” Taehyung says. “I didn’t know that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this exercise?” You say, just to be smart. 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes rolling. 

“What about you?” You ask. You can’t imagine what he’ll say. Astronaut. Veterinarian. Or, if he really wants to surprise you, a business executive. 

“A museum curator.”

It is an answer that simultaneously surprises and doesn’t surprise you at all. 

“Fitting,” you muse. “You could have put your own art on display.”

“Pretty sure that’s, like, super unethical,” Taehyung reminds you. 

“So? You’re rich. Start your own museum. Put your own art on display. Live your dream,” you amend. “It shouldn’t be holed up in that studio of yours forever. It deserves to be seen.”

Taehyung smiles at you. “You think so?”

You nod. “Of course. You create beautiful things, Tae.” It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that. And that is not lost on Taehyung, either.

“Thank you,” he says softly, blinking as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to.

Later that night, when everyone’s gotten a few drinks into their systems and Bruce Springsteen is playing low on the stereo, Taehyung disappears off towards the bathroom, no doubt because of the excellent soup that was served that night. All by your lonesome, you feel a little stranded, surrounded by your old relatives dancing on the hardwood floor of the dining room, your other cousins too young to actually spend time with. 

In the commotion, your mother comes up to you, swirling a rather large glass of red wine in her hand. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” She asks. 

“Bathroom.”

“No wonder you were alone,” she says with a hearty laugh. “The two of you have been glued to each other’s sides all evening.”

“He’s my husband,” you offer as an explanation. 

“I know, I know,” she says, shaking you off with a smile. Your mother is a lot more casual once she’s had her fill of wine, no doubt her favorite, Bordeaux. A lot more loving, too. “You really made your grandmother proud, you know? She loved you so much.”

“I know,” you say, trying not to get choked up at the mere mention of your grandmother. 

“She was so happy to see you with Taehyung. It made her feel safe that you would be taken care of,” she continues on, barely paying you and your swimming eyes any attention. “She would be so happy to see you with him now, too. How much you love her.”

“I miss her,” you hiccup out, trying to compose yourself. Nothing kills a birthday party like some sad sack crying over her deceased grandmother. 

“I know, darling,” your mother says, calling you by a nickname she has hardly used ever since you turned eighteen. She squeezes you tightly, a small hug of comfort. “I miss her, too.”

Someone calls your mother’s name, distracting her as she wanders off to your uncle, who is asking what the best way to cut the three-tiered cake on the dining room table is. She bids you a goodbye before disappearing towards the kitchen, no doubt ready to make the cutting of the cake an affair all on its own. 

Taehyung comes back soon after, spotting you instantly as you stand around in the living room. 

“Hey,” he says, noticing the wet shimmer of your eyes. “You alright?”

You nod, feeling better already now that he has returned. Now that he is by your side. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I hope those tears aren’t because you missed me,” he says, wiping away a stray one that has escaped from your eyes. You close them as his thumb brushes against your upper cheek, your eyelashes, opening them only when you’ve felt his touch vanish from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. 

“No,” you say. But the night makes you honest, and a couple of drinks, even more so. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Taehyung smiles. “Me, too.”

For all those days you have spent together, never have you and Taehyung had a night in. Which isn’t necessarily completely surprising, considering how many evening events the two of you have had obligations to attend, considering your differing work schedules and meeting times. Considering that, for a very long time, the two of you had no desire to spend any time with each other at all. 

But tonight, there is nothing on your calendar. No galas, no dinners, no meetings, no schedules. There is only Taehyung, who has spent the entire afternoon up in his studio, inhaling spray paint fumes and doing what he loves. And there is only you, who has spent the entire afternoon wondering what the hell you’re going to do tonight when there is nothing else planned. 

You knock on the door to his studio, catching him right as he’s finishing up another piece. This one is a single flower, painted in broad, confident strokes, bright green and red and sunflower yellow decorating the canvas. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, turning around to face you. 

“Wanna order takeout tonight?” You suggest. 

Taehyung grins. 

Thirty minutes and your favorite Chinese food later, you and Taehyung have settled onto the couch, trays of dumplings and noodles and rice in front of you, an unfunny movie playing in the background. 

You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat on this couch together. Maybe that night you had made the deal? Perhaps not even then. It wouldn’t at all surprise you if you found out that this was the very first time you and Taehyung have sat together on your couch, in your living room, in your house. So often is it occupied by others—Victoria, who sometimes comes over to ooh and ahh at your closet, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, who sit on this couch and play FIFA like it’s their job, your mother, when she wants to make herself at home in a place that doesn’t belong to her—but never you. Never you and him. 

“This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing a bite of dumpling. 

“Chinese food is always nice,” Taehyung responds over a mouthful of cold noodles. 

“Not that,” you say with a sigh, “this. Sitting together. Watching this shitty movie.”

“It’s not that shitty,” Taehyung tries to reason. On screen, the main character is getting pied in the face during some weird college fundraiser. “Okay, it’s a little shitty. But it’s good background noise, right?”

You nod halfheartedly. “I guess.” Silence. You take another bite of your dumpling, not really sure how to continue the conversation. “We don’t really get to do this a lot, you know? Sit and eat dinner and watch a movie together. Like a date.”

“We’re on a date now, are we?” Taehyung muses, eyeing you snarkily. 

“Isn’t that what this is?” You retort. 

He shrugs. “I suppose it is.”

“Tell me another fact about you,” you request, looking over to him where he sits on the opposite side of the couch. 

“About what?”

“Anything.”

Taehyung pauses, ponders for a moment. But he could never say anything wrong. Not when there is still so much you don’t know about him. Still so much you want to learn, so much you want to commit to memory. For so long you have stared at the planes of his face, the curve of his nose, the twinkle in those dark brown eyes. Those you will always remember. But what about who he is? What he loves? Those are things you still don’t know. 

“The very first time I met you,” Taehyung begins, “I asked Jimin what your name was.”

“When was that?” You ask. Despite you being someone who has spent the better part of the last several years vowing never to give Taehyung the time of day, you sure don’t remember when it all started. 

“That debutante ball,” Taehyung remembers fondly, “when we were fifteen. I asked Jimin what your name was because I wanted to ask you to dance.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you say with a scoff. 

“It’s true. You were standing there in that poofy white dress and I wanted to ask you to dance,” Taehyung points out. The fact that he even remembers what you were wearing is shocking. 

Who knew. Who knew, back then, that you would one day grow up to marry him. 

“And what did I say?” You demand more. 

Taehyung laughs at the memory. “I came up to you, and I asked you if you wanted to dance, and you said, and I quote, ‘Who are you?’”

“No,” you say, aghast at your own behavior. Were those really the first words you ever said to KIm Taehyung?

“You did. Don’t you remember?”

You think back. Think back to every year you have ever known Taehyung, every year you have spent scowling at him from across ballroom floors, making some snide remark as you pass by each other in the hallway. Every year you have spent cursing his existence, willing him away from you so he could bother someone else. Every year you have listened to rumor after rumor of girlfriend after girlfriend. You think back and somewhere, somewhere in there, in those dusty corners of your brain and cobwebbed boxes of your heart, is that first memory of Taehyung, too. 

Of him standing there in some generic black suit, black hair swept over his forehead, shoes too big. Of him coming up to you, trying to be as suave as a fifteen year old could be. Of you saying to him, instead of a hello, or even a what’s your name, “who are you?” 

Of him saying—

“And you said, ‘your dream come true’.” Like a dam bursting open, the memories flood back to you all at once. “I remember that.”

Taehyung laughs out loud at the thought of him saying something so cheesy. “Unsurprisingly, you didn’t want to dance with me.”

“You were so—” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Don’t have the words to express how you felt about him that night. Don’t have the words to express how you feel about him now. Thinking about this, talking about it, it is a bridge. A bridge between what was then and what is now. A bridge between who Taehyung was and who you were and who Taehyung is and who you are. “—so unthinkable. I couldn’t believe you had come up to me and said that. I couldn’t believe you had the audacity. But something about that night made me remember you. Made me remember your name.”

“You thought about me after that?” Taehyung asks. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“There is something about you that is unforgettable,” you say, honest and real and true. What else can you tell him? The truth is that you have always thought about him. Whether you liked him or not. 

You finish your dinner and place your trays on the end tables next to you, stacking your empty bowls and plates on top of one another as the movie rumbles on in the background. 

“It is kind of a shitty movie,” Taehyung admits after a while of being wholly unenthused. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “But it’s good background noise.”

Taehyung laughs at your little mockery, warm and deep and from his belly. You look at him. He feels so far away, on the other side of the couch. Feels like he’s miles apart from you. You have spent countless nights clinging to his harm, hand gripped tight in his. And sitting like this, a full couch cushion of space between the two of you—it isn’t enough anymore. So you inch closer. 

And closer. 

And a little closer. 

Until you’re pressed up against his side, legs touching as they rest neatly in front of you, backs stick straight as you stare at the television. 

Taehyung holds his arm up. An open invitation. 

Without asking, you lean into him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder, in the space right underneath his jaw. You pull your feet up onto the couch and curl into his frame, pressing yourself against him. He is warm and firm and inescapable. He smells of coffee and paint and Chinese spices. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you in, as if there were any other place you’d rather be. 

You sit like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Lazing around on the couch as the stars twinkle above your head. The movie ends and the two of you don’t even bother skipping the credits, letting them and the cheesy 80’s pop song play on, a distant soundtrack. 

“I never thought any of this would happen,” you breathe out. 

Taehyung looks down at you curiously. “What? This?��

“All of it,” you admit. “Us. Getting married. That stupid tabloid picture. My grandmother. This. It’s all so new.”

“New things will happen all the time,” Taehyung muses aloud. “We can’t help when things change.”

“You don’t have any regrets?” You have plenty. Regrets that you’ll never become the CEO you wanted to be in college. Regrets that you’ll never become the fashion designer you wanted to be as a little girl. Regrets that you will come to resent this marriage, resent Taehyung more than you have in years past, all because you had no choice. Regrets that your grandmother couldn’t see you now. Regrets that there were so many things in your life you could have changed, but didn’t.

“I thought I did,” Taehyung tells you. “I wanted to spend more time with my friends. I wanted to major in art in college. I didn’t want to marry you. I know you didn’t want to marry me.” He looks down and you look up at the same time, eyes locking, inches apart. “But looking back on it, I’m happy where I am. With what I have.”

“I never thought it could ever be like this,” you say, words falling off your tongue before you even ask them to.

“What?”

“Us.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Taehyung understands. He understands that, half a year ago, you both would have thrown yourselves into a volcano before holding hands with each other. He understands that getting over your hatred for each other seemed like an absolutely insurmountable task. He understands that you had never wanted to marry each other, that you couldn’t believe you would have to spend the rest of your lives with each other. 

And he understands that now, things are different. 

“I’m glad things happened the way they did,” Taehyung begins. “I’m grateful for us.”

You press yourself impossibly closer to him, feel his grip tighten around you. Like this, you can hear his heartbeat. Hear it thump like a drum, steady and firm and unwavering. His heart beats against his chest and you wonder. 

You wonder if he can hear the way yours beats for him, too.

There were lots of things that made your night in together special. But one of them is the glaring fact that you don’t get them very often. That their infrequency makes them all the more valuable. 

This has become blatantly obvious to you, because right now you are not spending a night in together. Right now you are stuck at a gala that you have to attend for the sake of business, drinking thin flutes of champagne and mingling with people you barely speak to. 

The one good thing about nights like these is that Taehyung looks positively gorgeous in suits. He sort of always has, but you’d never admit that to his face. At least not until now. And as his wife, you are lucky enough to have a front-row seat. 

“I can feel you staring at me all the way from over here,” Taehyung deadpans as he helps himself to a chocolate-covered strawberry from the buffet table. 

You’re too obvious to have any shame about it. “What can I say, I like the view.”

“Hard to believe I was the once the one being shouted at for being inappropriate in public,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. He bites into the strawberry and eats it all in a single go, tossing the stems into a bin nearby as you join back up in the heart of the crowd. 

“It’s only inappropriate if other people hear,” you tease, letting him guide you, hand intertwined with yours, towards an empty corner where the two of you can snuggle up to one another in (relative) peace. 

“I don’t think the champagne was very good for your filter, Miss Y/N,” Taehyung hisses into your ear, warm breath tickling your skin. 

“Don’t you mean Mrs. Kim?” You pose, an eyebrow raised. 

That seems to do something to Taehyung. It’s not very bright in here, with it being nighttime and all, but even still you can see the way his eyes darken. See the way his lips curl upwards, feel the way his grip on you tightens. It sparks something within you. Something deep in the pit of your belly. 

Something that makes you want more. 

You test the waters. “Mrs. Kim has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung looks about a moment away from losing control. But instead of slamming you against the wall in front of all of these people and giving you what you really want, he growls out, low and powerful, “Home. Now.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. 

You hail your car outside of the venue and it’s all the both of you can do to not jump on each other right then and there, in the backseat of this giant black van, overcome with want, with need, with everything in between. Taehyung’s leg bounces impatiently the entire ride back, and the feeling of your hand pressed against his doesn’t seem to be calming him down. He pulls you close to him in the backseat of the car, a hand resting on your thigh. You eye him carefully, as if challenging him to be any more daring. He grins. 

Home cannot come soon enough. The two of you tumble out of the backseat and into the elevators, where you mash the top floor button after entering in the security access code, desperate and shameless. The ride seems to take hours, and the heat that surrounds you practically smothers you, covers you, fills up your lungs and chokes you. 

There is nothing left by the time you reach your door. The moment it slams shut behind you Taehyung presses you up against the back of it, pins you against the wood as he hovers over you, eyes tracing your lips. 

“Tell me something,” he demands. 

“What?” 

“A fact. Something I don’t know.”

It doesn’t take much thinking. “I want you,” you breathe out, watch it hit his skin, watch the way his eyes glint in the light of the entranceway. “Please, Tae. I want you.”

It’s enough for him. 

This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed. The first time was nearly five months ago, in a chapel, at an altar, surrounded by hundreds of people. It was so unfun that you seem to have eradicated the mere thought from your memory. But you remember that feeling from that day. That feeling you got when you pressed your lips against his, cemented your marriage with a kiss. That heat. That sting. 

Kissing him now—that feeling has returned tenfold. When his lips meet yours, it feels like fire is rushing through your veins, setting alight every nerve it passes, unforgiving and relentless. His enormous hands come up to cup your jaw, fingers pressing against the skin of your cheeks as they pull you close to him, keep you trapped in his hold. This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed but it feels like it is—it feels like there is a lotus blooming on a lilypad in your heart, it feels like you have been struck by lightning, it feels like nothing else you have ever felt before. It feels brand new. 

Pressing back against him, he slowly releases you from the cage he has created against the door, spinning around so the two of you can tumble up the stairs and into your bedroom, unable to resist sneaking in pecks here and there as you make your way upstairs. Every step you take you stop, giggle as he presses you against the railing just so he can steal another kiss from you, put his hands all over your body. It’s a wonder the two of you even make it into your bedroom at all. 

When you do, however, all bets are off. Taehyung presses you against the still-made bedsheets with a glint in his eye and a growl on his lips, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, at your body.

"Aren't you a sight? Laid out so pretty for me," he purrs, robbing a breath from you.

It's a tone you have yet to hear from him. You find yourself growing impossibly hot under his stare, burning with an uncharted desire.

You can hardly wrap your brain around it. Here you are, craving the man you had spent the better half of your young adult life loathing. Maybe it’s the champagne; maybe it’s the way his fingers are running slowly up the length of your clothed torso. Whatever it is, your stomach does flips, unfamiliar to the way your body preens under his touch.

"Don't let it go to your head," you tease, simply because you could.

Taehyung hums disapprovingly, pressing kisses into your neck as he grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, riding your dress up in the process.

You sigh, exposing your neck further for him as he paints bruises into your neck. It feels like just yesterday you had called him out at the altar for his habit of sporting the very same marks you were soon to wear.

Perhaps you should have thought twice about letting the man you had married purely under business pretenses press his hips against your clothed center, but as he rolls his into yours, your mind falls blank, silencing any and all reservations you should have.

Whimpering, you beckon his mouth back onto yours, tongue meeting his wantonly. 

You feel his fingers creep up the outside of your bare thigh, thrilling you in the most primal way. Reaching the band of your underwear after what felt like entirely too long, he runs the pad of his thumb against the lacy fabric.

 You could scream. He is doing this on purpose. He must be. Surely he knows how badly you were aching for him? For him to fill you– whatever the manner may be.

You let out a whine before you can help yourself, frowning as Taehyung looks pleased with himself, confirming his knowledge of your prolonged pleasure.

"What's that? Did you say something?" he mocks, looking cruel and yet strikingly gorgeous as he smirks above you.

"God, you're irritating,” you huff, hips jerking up against his as he pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back into the flesh of your hip. "Just fuck me already."

He tuts, clearly unimpressed by your impatience, "Now, where is the fun in that?"

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers suddenly snake their way between your thighs. Mouth falling ajar, you grip his shoulders as he runs his middle finger against your clothed slit, trailing up and down your warmth. To think he was still dressed while he was touching you like this...

"No... I think I'll take my time with you," he says.

You mew against his hand, arousal forming against his long digits' ministrations. You have to hand it to him. Taehyung knows what he’s doing. The life of a bachelor has seemingly served him well.

You aren’t usually vocal in bed, but the way he’s purring words of filth to you, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he tells you how hot and slick your pretty pussy felt against his hand, has you gasping and sputtering, your own fingers wrapping around his wrist.

The fabric of your panties provides a friction that toys the line of pleasure and pain, making you thrust up to meet his motions, your humility slipping from you.

Taehyung watches you intently, cock growing hard under the constraints of his dress pants. You look better than he could've imagined, eyes watering and body shivering under his touch, his fingers soaking with your arousal. He can only imagine what you'd feel like with his fingers fully buried into you, rocking them against your velvety walls.

He lets out a groan of his own, turned on by the idea of you fucking yourself onto his fingers, whimpering out his name in ecstasy.

There’s this part of you that faintly recognizes that Taehyung has done this plenty of times before. Plenty of times with plenty of other lovers. But there is a different part of you, that part that bursts with light and hope, that reminds you that he was never married to those other ones. That his allegiance lies with you. And that thought, knowing that deep within you, he is yours, makes your jaw fall slack, pretty noises tumbling from your lips and your thighs clamping around him.

You were close, closer than you care to admit. Every touch against you is careful yet deliberate as he reads the signs of your body, the way it keens and arches into him, offering you words of encouragement as your climax finally hits.

"That's right. Good girl. Let go for me," Taehyung coos, eyes dark and focused on your writhing form.

You cry out into the familiar space of your shared room, head thrown back as you ride out the high, letting it wrack your body, send jolts throughout your veins.

You barely have time to catch your breath when he presses his mouth back onto yours, kiss still as eager as it was when you both first entered your home. You are alight with satisfaction as he pulls away to press a trail of kisses against your jaw.

"I want—f-fuck," you stutter as he finds your already hypersensitive clit once more, rolling his thumb over your now soaked panties in tantalizing circles, "want to make you feel good, too."

Admittedly, this fantasy had crossed your mind once or twice, brought on by the way he carried himself in a suit and the way his large fingers wrapped around the champagne glass; confident, collected, and entirely charming. Who are you to shy away from a man like him? He certainly has always been rather good-looking. 

He pauses his motions, pulling his hand back to sit on your waist. Your dress is of the finest, most delicate satin, and after tonight's activities, completely wrinkled. You can almost hear your stylist's cries of dismay. Whatever. You have a steamer. And why focus on the dress when it’s obvious the two of you are focused on what lies underneath it?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, skin still burning from your past climax.

Helping you back up, Taehyung stands. You lick your lips as you sit back up on the edge of the bed, watching intently as he unbuckles his belt, audibly hissing as his pants fall to his ankles, cock visibly straining against the fabric of his underwear. Thank God you don’t have to stand. With the way your thighs still felt weak and how your husband looks like a goddamn Adonis towering above you? Your legs surely would give out underneath you if you rose.

Brows furrowed, Taehyung palms over himself briefly before pulling down the waistband of his underwear, his painfully hard member slapping against his torso.

Your eyes widened on instinct. While the last thing you wanted to do was help inflate Taehyung's already large ego, you were certainly impressed at his size; thick and girthy, his tip red and shining with precum.

He couldn't help but smirk, thoroughly pleased by the way you stared at him unabashedly, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Open up for me," he orders.

And who are you to deny a request from your dear husband?

Your pretty lips wrap themselves around his engorged tip, all remnants of lipstick long gone by now. Taehyung hisses, a hand finding the side of your jaw as you run your tongue against the underside of his cock.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts, fighting off the urge to grip the back of your head and fuck your throat. As much as he'd love your have you choking and drooling all over his cock – and boy would he – he lets you set your own pace, not wanting to overwhelm you.

It doesn't take long for you to sink your mouth further down, however, clearly set on making Taehyung feel as good as you could.

A low moan erupts from his throat, digits pressing into your jaw in request to take more of him in, which you happily oblige.

You had your eyes trained on him, completely obsessed with the way he panted through pink lips, hissing slightly every time your tongue rolled over his sensitive tip.

Lolling his head to a side, his eyes meet yours, gaze primal and wolfish as he watches the way you worked his cock.

"Doing so good, love. Doing so fucking good for me,” he murmurs.

You hum against his skin at the sound of the sudden pet name, an unfamiliar feeling fluttering in your belly. You push aside the feeling, focusing instead on the way he grunts at the new sensation you had just given him.

Giggling, you pull off his cock, opting instead to press a kiss against his leaking tip, making sure to hold his eyes as you run kitten licks against it.

"God, you're such a tease." He shakes his head in disbelief. 

He looks so good above you, shivering and cursing out praises on how good your mouth feels, how well you take his cock. Running your tongue along the length of his shaft, you become certain that this is a display you can’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of. But you have all the time in the world, right?

"Y/N,” he gasps suddenly, hips jerking towards your face. "Love, I'm gonna-- gonna cum."

"Cum in my mouth, please." Your voice was pleading and desperate. Taehyung had never heard such words spoken more sweetly. 

"Fuck's sake."

You let out a yelp in surprise as his fingers work their way through your hair, bringing your head back down onto his cock. You relax, though, when you feel the hot ropes of his cum hit the back of your throat, your hands finding purchase on his thighs as you do your best to swallow it all down.

Pulling yourself off him, you let out a small cough, eyes watering slightly as you hadn’t managed to prepare yourself with a breath before his release. His large palm runs across the top of your head as you caught your breath, expression flickering with something unfamiliar. Could it be... fondness? 

Your heart stammers at the thought as you stand, slowly stepping out of your dress, letting it drape off of your figure. Taehyung looks absolutely gobsmacked, pupils dark as he gazes at you, eyes unabashedly raking your body. He’s shameless. 

You both are. 

Slowly, you step towards him, fingers reaching out towards his shirt, carefully undoing the buttons as you gaze at each other, expressions unreadable. 

"Tae?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him. “Fuck me?" 

Your polite request makes Taehyung chuckle. 

"Please?" You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes blinking up at him adoringly for good measure. You reach the last button, let his dress shirt drape open. He brushes it off himself, stands there for a few seconds just to let the way you’re ogling his toned chest go to his head. At least he’s good-looking. 

He sighs, probably contemplating some clever rebuttal, but eventually decides against it as his cock is already twitching back to life.

"Alright, love. Turn around. On your knees for me," He orders, making your stomach flip.

To your surprise, you are hardly in place when the warmth of his large hands finds the soft of your tummy, pressing you back into his chest as he pressed a peck to the back of your neck.

You squirm in his hold, whining as that same hand of his grabs hold of your breast, long digit rolling your nipple between their tips. You can’t help but press your ass back into him. His cock feels hot and heavy, pressing against the back of your thigh, making your pussy clench in anticipation. 

You want him.

You want him so bad that you don't know what to do with yourself, shuddering as his free hand runs along the side of your ass, leaving scorching hot trails on your skin wherever he kneads into your flesh. He's touching you everywhere – everywhere but where you need him the most, and the arousal that drips down your thigh mocks you.

"Dammit, please!" You exclaim, running out of patience.

"Please what?" He says, an eyebrow arched.

You shiver, committing the way his middle finger traced your pelvic bone to memory forever.

You puff out a frustrated breath, nearly at your wit's end. "Please fuck me, Tae."

Taehyung pauses, grip on your breast and hip tightening as he lets out a moan. You let one out yourself as you feel him readjust, cock pressing against your slick entrance.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you say my name," He grunts. "Okay, baby. I'll fuck you. Begging so nicely for my cock."

You let out a squeak as you're suddenly pushed down onto your hands, back arching as he pushes his fat cock inside your heavenly cunt. He's thick, so thick, that you instinctively grip the sheet underneath you, fingers curled around them tightly as if it means to hold onto your sanity.

Taehyung lets out a shaky breath, angling your hips up so that you could take more of him.

"You feel—feel so good," he admits above you, and suddenly you wish you could see him. See the way his bangs stick to his damp forehead—see the way his tongue swipes over his bottom lip wickedly.

You let that thought go, however, as he thrust into you, making your jaw fall slack and eyes flutter shut. Profanities roll off your tongue unabashedly, helpless under the way his thick member pulls out of you, only to slam back into you.

You weren't expecting this. The way he stretches you out further than anyone had before. Your pussy clenches around him, reveling in the sweet, sweet burn.

He digs into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as you mew and cry out, pushing your hips back in time to his, trying your best to meet his movements.

"Tae... fuck, fuck, fuck—"

He was filling you to the brim. Filling you tight and deep.

God, the way he was panting behind you was music to your ears. His cock pulses every time you call out his name, voice muffled and buried as you had your head pressed into the mattress, hair messy and bouncing with every hard thrust.

"S'good! Fuck... so, ah, big..." you cry out.

You feel drunk. Intoxicated off this beautiful man and the way he makes you feel a way only he can.

You nearly let out a sob as the rough pads of Taehyung's fingertips suddenly reach around you and find your neglected clit, rolling light circles on the soft and swollen bundle of nerves skillfully.

You are a mess, whimpering and drooling into your expensive sheets, and he filled every inch of you, leaving no place undiscovered. Your high nears, stewing on low heat somewhere near the pit of your belly, waiting for a chance to erupt and wash all over you. Taehyung must be close to, you realize, as his thrusts began to slow down, slamming into you roughly as if chasing after his high.

"Gonna take this load? Huh? Gonna let me cum inside your pretty little pussy?" His voice is straining, as if trying to breathe evenly but merely moments from falling apart.

If only you could formulate an intelligent response, but instead, you are a blubbering wreck, thighs shaking as they threatened to give out underneath you. But somehow, Taehyung knew. He had you. Quicking his motions against your delicate pearl, he could tell you were close too, and he was going to make sure you got there.

Suddenly, you're crying out and convulsing, tears brimming at the ends of your eyes as you feel Taehyung empty into you, collapsing onto his hands as well.

You feel his hot breath against the back of your neck as he pants, breath growing more and more even as the two of you regain control of your bodies and minds.

Pulling out of you, he plops down beside you, and for a moment, the two of you hold each other's gazes, eyes speaking in ways words never could.

Finally, after what feels both like an eternity and just a moment, you work up the courage to say something, moving closer to him as you place a hand on his chest, cushioning your chin as you rested on top of it.  

"Psst," you beckon, voice hushed.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky and tired.

"I’m grateful, too."

"Huh?"

"I’m grateful for us, too."

Taehyung's gaze is soft, and it lingers on you for a second before the sides of his mouth curl up tenderly. He grins down at you, eyes drifting shut. You feel him squeeze you closer, pressing you against his skin. And then, you hear his breathing steady, see his lips part slightly. 

You lean into his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Thank you, Tae.”

Not unlike the many other mornings you have awoken in this bed, when you open your eyes as the morning sunlight streams through the windows, Taehyung is nowhere to be found. The sheets on his side of the bed are flipped aside, revealing that soft outline of his body from the night before left imprinted into the sheets, a dip in the mattress where he slept. You had fallen asleep all wrapped up in each other, tangled up like vines, but must have separated sometime during the night. Distantly, you register Taehyung’s voice outside, notice his phone missing from his bedside table. He must be on an early morning call. 

You check your phone for the time. Ten o’clock. 

A late morning call, then. 

Still basking in the afterglow of the night prior, you slowly inch your way out of bed, shivering as you pull the covers off you and scoot your legs around so they hang over the edge of the bed. You rub at your eyes until you faintly remember you did not take your makeup off last night, and when your hand comes away covered with black streaks and flecks of mascara, you wince to yourself. There goes five hundred dollars worth of a skincare routine. 

After washing yourself up and applying as many serums as you can to your skin, you wrap yourself up in one of his button-up shirts, the torso so wide that it drapes over you. The tips of your fingers peek out from the ends of the sleeves, and you cross your arms lightly over your chest as you make your way to the door, ready to entice your husband back to bed for round two. What? It’s Saturday. 

You peer around the door to find Taehyung standing a few feet away, facing away from you. He’s shirtless, and as his wife you have absolutely no problems ogling him, the toned curves of his back, the muscles in his arms. He’s always been a looker. You just finally have an excuse to look for yourself. 

You approach him quietly, not wanting to interrupt nor broadcast your sex life to anybody on the other side who may be listening. Already, the idea of crawling back in bed together sends goosebumps along your skin, makes you giddy with anticipation. You’re just about to tap him on the shoulder, lips curled upwards in suggestion, when he says—

“And my inheritance? That’s secured now, right? Because I said I would pretend to be in love with her in public—?”

And it is as if Medusa herself appeared in this room, turning you to stone as your heart thuds to the floor, a hollow, empty noise. 

You don’t hear the rest of Taehyung’s conversation. You don’t even hear the sound of your own heartbeat. This terrible, aching sound rings in your ears, silencing everything in its wake, drowning out even the sighs of your own breath. It is as if you have been frozen solid. As if you have been shot in the stomach. You stand there, feeling absolutely nothing, and all you can do is brace yourself for what is to come. Taehyung’s words were the knife but his next actions will be its removal, leaving in its wake an irreparable wound. 

He turns around, casual and cool, voice still hushed. As if you were still asleep. As if you hadn’t heard anything at all. But when he twists his body and sees you standing there, staring back up at him, lips parted in shock. 

“I’ll call you back,” he tells whoever was on the other side of the line, looking more panicked by the second. He opens his mouth so he can explain himself, but you don’t need him to. You’ve heard everything already. 

“I should have known,” you say, feeling angry and betrayed and sad all at once. “I should have known it was all an act.”

“Y/N, wait, let me explain—”

“What is there to tell me, Taehyung? What are you going to say? That you didn’t mean it? That you thought I wouldn’t find out? That last night was just a one-off?” You demand. The heat from your veins hasn’t left. Still, it simmers through your blood, burning you up from the inside out. “That you didn’t want to lie to me?”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Taehyung says defensively, brows furrowed. “Just give me a chance to explain myself.”

“Explain yourself? How you pretended, every day and every night, just so you could get some more money in your bank account? So you could make sure you would get your father’s business when he died?”

Taehyung bites back easily. “Don’t act like you weren’t also faking it at some point. I know you were almost removed from your grandmother’s will.”

Your tongue is bitter at the mention of your grandmother. As if Taehyung ever even knew her. “My grandmother has nothing to do with this.”

“Really?” Taehyung challenges. “So you wanting to stay in her will was just a little bonus, right?”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “It’s different.”

“Different how?” Taehyung spits. “Because right now, to me, it looks pretty similar to what I’ve done.”

“My grandmother died months ago,” you remind him. Her will is no longer the question. It has been written, settled, and executed. There was no reason for you to continue playing along once she took her last breath. No reason—unless you wanted to. “Meanwhile you’ve been keeping your inheritance a secret from me this entire time.”

“We made a deal,” Taehyung says. “A deal that said we would both act happy and pretend to be in love because we both had things we needed to worry about. Family things. Money things. You were a part of this, just like I was. You pretended, too.”

“Well, maybe I stopped pretending!” 

You can’t take it anymore. All this anger, all this emptiness, it’s been bubbling up inside you ever since you heard those first words come out of his mouth. It spills out of you all at once, an eruption from your lips, your heart’s doors bursting open. You have held his hand tightly in your own. You have pressed your lips to his. You have laid yourself bare in front of him. What is there left to protect? What part of you has not already been stained by him, by his touch, by the feeling of his fingers against your skin?

The hallway is silent, but you can hear your cry echo down the corridor. Hear the way it bounces along the walls before fading away. 

“Maybe I stopped pretending,” you repeat, softer this time. You blink and already can feel the streaks along your skin, the tears falling from your eyes. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Taehyung looks like he’s in disbelief. Like he cannot believe the words you are saying to him. 

Well, that makes two of you. 

“Can’t you see, Tae? Can’t you tell?” You ask, the nickname falling from your lips before you can even help it. You must remind yourself to change that, later. “I’m in love with you.”

They are words you have never said to someone before. Not even your old boyfriends. Words that you always knew you would reserve for someone special. Someone who would touch your heart and make it their own, someone who would leave imprints of their fingers against your chest. Someone who would brighten you up from the inside out, leave you bursting with light. 

Ironic, that Taehyung has become that someone. When he is the one person you never thought could. 

When he has proven, time and time again, that you two just cannot mix. Oil and water. Pastel and acrylic. Satin and silk. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you spit out quickly, before Taehyung has a chance to respond. “I know it doesn’t matter to you.”

“Y/N, yes it does,” Taehyung begins, desperate and pleading. “I know you heard what I said, but I swear, it stopped being an act for me, too. Things are different now, just like you said.”

“Don’t. Please.” You pull away as he reaches out towards you. Faintly, you remember that it is his shirt you are wearing. Remember that no matter what you do, he will always surround you. “Please, Tae.” You have nothing left. You can’t bear to look at him, but where else will you go? You cannot believe the things he’s said, the things he’s done, but where else would you go?

“I love you, too,” Taehyung says, and a part of you wants so badly to believe him. 

A part of you wants so badly to ingrain those words into your head, carve them into your heart, let him wrap his arms around you and promise that everything will be alright. But things are different now. Just like you said. You and Taehyung are not the same people you were six months ago. Or six weeks ago. Or even six minutes ago. You are helpless and he has proven that he does not care. 

“I have to go,” you say, looking away. You don’t think you could handle turning back to him again. “Please, Tae.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, and he reaches out once more but you are not there to meet him halfway. Were you ever?

“I know,” you whisper back.

You duck into your bedroom and pack a suitcase of everything you need. Being here is suffocating. Being with him is like setting yourself alight. 

Victoria has no questions when you show up at her door later that day, suitcase by your side and this ridiculous bottle of Merlot in your hands. You had picked it up on the way over. You sort of figured you might need it. 

“You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” Victoria asks. 

“Tell me about your streaming service,” you hiccup in response.

Victoria is happy to oblige. She even tells you that she still hasn’t picked a CFO, and that the position would be open for you if you ever wished to take it. 

Funnily enough, what will become of you once your father retires and passes along the company is the furthest away from your thoughts. 

You remember being so worried about that. Being so worried that, once they married you off like every good daughter should be, you would be absorbed into your husband’s life, cut out of your family’s. Your father would choose a cousin, an uncle, or even a friend to take after the business, bestowing upon you a thoughtful inheritance but nothing more than that. All of those years of schooling, finance in college, your MBA soon after, would be wasted, just so you could hang on the arm of your husband for the rest of your life. 

It’s thoughtful of Victoria to think of you for the position. She knows just as well as anyone else that you would be an excellent fit. And if things were just a little bit different, you would be jumping at the offer. 

But your future career plans are on the backburner, along with the rest of your life. 

All you can really do, right now, at this very moment, is wait for things to change. As they always do. 

“Don’t you have an event tonight?” Victoria asks about three days into your stay. She’s given you her favorite (her words, not yours) guest bedroom and an enormous closet to match, despite you only coming over with a carry-on’s worth of clothes. 

You scoff to yourself. “Like I’d want to go to anything with him.”

“Have you even called your parents?” 

“No,” you say, not even caring about the repercussions. There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be ringing you soon. And when they do, maybe then you’ll finally work up the courage to tell them what really happened. Tell them that you can’t go back there. Not yet, at least. 

“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Victoria says as she hands you a bowl of vegetable soup, homemade from a couple of days ago. You nod to yourself, sniffling as you curl into the couch cushions and wish they would absorb you whole. 

There’s no need to ask her what she means by ‘this’. Everything. From your engagement to the marriage, from those tabloids to the deal, from your grandmother’s death to now. It has all been unfair. Life is unfair. And while you’ve always known that, it has been particularly cruel to you as of late. 

Still, when you wake up sometimes, you can still feel him tracing over your skin. Feel his lips hovering over yours, breath fanning out over your cheeks. You turn over and expect to see him lying there, on the right side of the bed, sheets mussed as they cover his figure. You wake up and for a brief moment, for that split, split second, there is peace. And happiness. And love. 

And then there is nothing. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me, too.”

Maybe he really does love you. Maybe things really did change. But you have always been a pragmatic person, always let your head guide you rather than your heart. The secret’s out. Taehyung had an inheritance he needed to secure. You were his path to doing so. Those things haven’t changed. No matter if his feelings did. 

“Hey, look at this,” Victoria says, brows furrowed as she holds out her phone in front of you, revealing a livestreamed interview from the event tonight. 

You peer over. 

It’s Taehyung. 

Of course it’s Taehyung. Who else would she be showing you?

He stands in a clean-cut gray coat, draping over his figure, black dress shirt and slacks underneath, belt wrapped neatly around his hips. He holds his hand up in a wave and smiles politely to the cameras, to the reporters, letting the flashes wash over him like waves in the ocean. 

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Someone calls. “Where’s your wife?”

Oh, God.

Taehyung grimaces a little, pursing his lips. “My wife won’t be joining me tonight.”

“Can you tell us why?” They shout. 

“Sorry, no more questions. Thank you for asking though. She’s well,” he says, quickly ushering himself along, entering the venue so no more reporters can bombard him. When he disappears, the livestream immediately moves on to the next guest, but you hardly pay them any attention. 

“Huh,” Victoria says aloud. 

Indeed. Taehyung’s response strikes you as rather odd. Why would he tell the public that? Why not make up a lie, say you’re sick, or you’re overseas, or you’re just late? Why simply tell them that you won’t be there? Surely, Taehyung is just as aware of the consequences of arriving at an event without you as you are. There’s no doubt that his parents will be in contact with him soon, too. No doubt that this will leave a stain on his family. His image. It might even threaten his inheritance after all.

So why not lie?

You frown to yourself, nose scrunching up in confusion. You don’t like where this train of thought leads.

“You okay?” Victoria asks when she sees the bewildered expression on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say. Just completely befuddled. It escapes you, why Taehyung wouldn’t just make up some sort of excuse as to reasoning behind your absence. Why he would even show up at the event at all. Certainly, going to the event without you is worse than not going at all. It prompts questions. It spreads rumors. 

Later that night, you get a call from your parents, demanding to know why you weren’t there with him. You say you got sick. You plead with them not to question anything. 

You wonder what happens next. You and Taehyung still have two more events this week. A dinner and a ball. What will you do then?

Taehyung goes solo for the dinner. You suppose you could have predicted that, considering his apparent willingness to arrive alone for the first event, too. He hasn’t made any efforts to contact you and for once, you’re glad for his silence. Not that you even know what he would say to you, anyway, but at least he isn’t begging you to come back to him. 

The sad truth is that if he did, if he got down on his knees right in front of you and willed you to come back home, you probably would. He has always been impossible to resist. Even when you first met him, when he sauntered up towards you and told you he was your dream come true. You didn’t know it then. But he was. He was everything you would ever want. 

Why would he lie? 

Why would he do that?

You can’t wrap your head around it. What is he getting out of it by telling the truth? By admitting to the paparazzi, to the reporters and the cameramen, that you won’t be there with him. That you will not be joining him. Nothing, certainly. His parents must be furious. His inheritance may be on the rocks. His image might tank. 

So then, why do it at all?

Could it… could it be?

Is it true?

You have loved Taehyung for a long time. Longer than you probably even care to admit. You have always held your head high at events, spoken loudly and without fear, but being with him made you feel safe. Secure. You would hold his hand and know, know that he was holding yours, too. It grounded you. It soothed your worries. 

Does he really love you back?

Taehyung smiles politely and laughs when he needs to at these events, but he doesn’t look the same. Even through the screen you can see those bags under his eyes, that spark that has faded. You hardly recognize him. He looks so lonely, without someone by his side. So distant. 

When you know the dinner has ended, you almost pick up the phone and call him. 

Almost. 

Instead, when the ball rolls around, you ask Victoria if she’s got a spare dress she can lend you.

 Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen covered in paint splotches, wearing old college hoodies, and fresh out of a restless night’s sleep, cleans up pretty well. For a married man, at least. 

You wonder what the past few days must have been like for him. If they have been as empty as your own. Wonder what it was like, riding alone in a big black van to this hotel ballroom, no one to tease, no one to laugh with, no one to hold. No one to poke him awake if he accidentally fell asleep. No one to make sure he’s okay. 

Taehyung stands right outside of the entrance, waving politely to all of the paparazzi, smiling as the cameras flash, giving them the time of day for a moment before he heads inside and muscles his way through another event without you. 

Or so he thinks. 

You spot him just as he opens his mouth, ready to repeat those same lines all over again.

My wife won’t be joining me tonight. She’s well, though.

And maybe it’s just because you haven’t seen him in nearly a week. Maybe it’s just because he is about to lie to those reporters once more, ready to face whatever consequences come his way. 

Or maybe it’s just because you miss him. Miss him terribly, have been missing him terribly. Being away from him was necessary, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable. Not getting to hold his hand, see his smile, meet his eyes. You and Taehyung may not have always liked each other, but you saw him every day regardless. He became a constant in your life. Not an if, but a when. If everything went to shit, you always knew he would still be there. 

And there he is. 

“Wait! Taehyung!”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he hears your voice, gaze darting around wildly, mouth parted in surprise. He looks around desperately, scanning the crowd, meeting the eyes of every single person in front of him until he finally looks to the left, sees you rushing up towards him, hiking up the skirt of your dress as your heels tap against the sidewalk. 

And when he spots you, sees you running up to him, his body relaxes, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he beams back at you, relieved and thankful and filled with joy, all at once. And you know, then. 

You know that everything will be okay. 

“Sorry I’m late,” you say sheepishly, cheeks burning as he looks at you, takes in every inch of you, breathes you in and lets you fill him up. 

Taehyung doesn’t respond. You reach out to hold his hand but he grabs your wrist and pulls you in, presses you against his body as he presses his hands against your cheeks, palms burning as they meet your skin, and he kisses you. In front of all these people, he kisses you. 

And goddamnit, you will kiss him back. 

It feels like lightning, like a thunderstorm, like the waves of the ocean are crashing against your heart. It feels like fire, like flames are licking at your veins, sending sparks through your blood. It feels like home. 

You and Taehyung ignore the shouts of reporters, the flashes of cameras, the honks of the cars on the other side of the road. When you part, he presses his forehead against yours and lets the tip of your nose meet his. And you smile. 

“Don’t be alone any longer, Mr. Kim,” you whisper, loud enough so only he can hear. 

“When I’m with you, I never am, Mrs. Kim,” he murmurs back. 

You wonder what those tabloids will be saying about you tomorrow. 

The rest of the night finds the two of you pretty much inseparable. You wrap yourself around his arm and for the first time in a long time, he presses his hand against the small of your back, keeping you close. Like he’d ever lose you again. 

One of your least favorite parts about attending balls used to be the dancing. As a young and eligible bachelorette, you would always have to lock hands with another, let him awkwardly guide you along to the music as you made the worst small talk imaginable, forcing laughter and smiles whenever he said something he thought was particularly funny. 

But, like so many others, things have changed. Things are different now. 

The waltz comes on and you and Taehyung are the first to reach the center of the ballroom floor, letting him rest his hand on your waist as you press yours on top of his shoulder. Let him twirl you around the room as the orchestra plays in the background, a soft, sweet, light little melody that carries you along. 

“I missed this,” you say softly. 

“I missed us,” Taehyung corrects. He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry for not telling you about my inheritance.”

“I’m sorry for storming out. I should have listened to you.” you respond easily. You both have plenty to apologize for. But night is darkest right before dawn. 

“I should have said something,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. “But I was just so—so worried that something would go wrong. And I didn’t know how to explain how I felt about you. I acted in the beginning, too, but then things changed.”

“They always do,” you muse with a grin. 

“I couldn’t believe I had you,” Taehyung admits. “I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous. And funny. And true.”

“Go on,” you tease, even though you do nothing to hide the smile inching its way across your face, the heating of your cheeks, the simmering of your skin. 

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I just—I felt something for you I couldn’t explain. I still can’t.”

You don’t have to prod any further. You know. Deep within your heart, you know. There is love blossoming in his to match the garden that has bloomed in your own. The flowers that have sprouted in the ashes. He has them, too. And when those petals open and the light streams in, he will know. He will know, too. 

“You make me crazy,” you tell him, whispering gently into his skin. “But I’m a better person when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“I meant what I said, that night,” Taehyung says. Makes you wonder which night he’s actually talking about. “That I’m happy that things have changed. That things happened the way they did. I’m grateful for us.”

“I am, too,” you say. And you are. 

You rest your head against his chest as you dance together, swaying back and forth to the beat of the drums, to the strums of the violins, all wrapped up together like ivy, like vines. Those, too, sit in that garden of yours. Keep you tethered to his side, keep him close to yours. He holds you in his arms and he smiles, because he knows, too. Knows that that garden in your heart will soon have a matching one in his. A mirror image of who you are. Who you’ve become. 

Things change. They always will. But so long as he is by your side, and so long as you are by his, you know. Everything will be okay. 

It's different, this time, when Taehyung presses you into the mattress. 

There is no rush. Because now you know for certain that all the time in the world is yours. He is yours forever. You are his.

The two of you are a mixture of tangled limbs and shared breaths, the feverish, irrepressible need to give yourself to each other nearly tangible. He breaks the kiss suddenly, and you’re about to break out in protest. That is, until you see him unbuttoning his shirt.

Inspired, you wiggle out of your own clothes, eyes locked on Taehyung's soft torso and the idea that you had married such a beautiful man, inside and out.

Looking back, you wonder if that was always inevitable. If you and Taehyung falling into each other had been written in the stars from day one, sealed as your fate from the moment he came up to you at that ball when you were teenagers. He was going to be a part of your life no matter what. Whether or not you ended up marrying him. But having him like this?

It makes it all worth it.

"Do you like what you see?" That old cocky smirk of his makes an appearance.

You raise a brow, choosing to omit a response as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

Taehyung swallows.

"Do you?" You tease.

His response comes in the form of bites down your necks and licks down your chest, stealing your breath from you. 

Your clothes are somewhere dispelled beside your passionate bodies, growing cold beside the way your two hot bodies warmed one another.

"You are so beautiful," Taehyung praises, fingers coming up to cup your breast, bringing it up to his mouth.

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as his tongue toys with your pert bud, teeth grazing it ever so often just to hear the broken gasp that'd always follow. 

"And so sensitive too," he giggles, making you pout. His hands are gentle as if every touch means something. As if you mean something—no, everything—to him. And the most wonderful part is that he means everything to you, too. 

"Shut up." You roll your eyes playfully, gasping as his palm comes down the side of your thigh suddenly in warning. You bite down your swollen bottom lip at the gush of arousal that dampened your underwear in response.

"Watch your tone, love. Of both our positions, you are in the most compromising one." He reminds you. It isn't a threat, and while usually, that kind of tone would thrill you, you couldn't help but want his mouth back on yours already.

"You talk too much." You flop back onto the bed with a sigh. Taehyung watches with interest as your pretty tits bounce in consequence. Extending your hands out towards him, you give him a pouty look. "Just wanna kiss you."

"Is that all I am to you? Just a pair of lips for you to mack on? I've got news for you, sweetheart, there's a brain behind these ravishing good looks." He scoffs in feigned offense, sitting back on his heels.

You giggle.

It seems as though even during the most intimate of moments, Taehyung still found a way to be, well, Taehyung. At least that hasn’t changed. 

"Whatever, pretty boy. Why don't you come over here and put that mouth of yours to good use?" You purr, making his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Oh? I don't remember you being this assertive when I was pounding you into the mattress last time."

“What, I can’t have a little fun as well?” You tease, grinning as you look up at him, raking your eyes over his figure. 

"Wanna have fun, love?," He murmurs into your ears, hands gripping either of your plush thighs. "Then spread those pretty legs for me, and I'll show you exactly how much fun you can have."

God, you love this man.

You oblige eagerly, breath quickening as he helped you press your knees by your chest, leaving the wet patch in your underwear on full display. 

"My pretty little wife." He sighs dreamily, making heat rush to your core.

Taehyung's cock stood loud and proud, a hot reminder of where the night would eventually lead to. Seriously, how did you get so lucky? You must've been a saint in a previous life, you decide right then. Or at least, the stars have chosen to be rather kind to you in this one.

"Gonna take these off," he mutters, mostly to himself, tugging the ruined fabric over your ass and down your legs, with your help, of course.

Despite your usual display of confidence, lying beneath your husband, spread out like this, has you feeling vulnerable and slightly insecure. But that insecurity vanishes, however, as he lets out a soft moan, fingers moving to spread your glossed lips apart.

"So fucking pretty, baby. Gonna make you feel so fucking good," he groans, leaning down to press his face near your most intimate part.

Pressing a tentatively lick against, his eyes flicker up to yourself, curious to see if you’re okay with him proceeding. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to say no, are you?

Embarrassingly, you rut against him, making him laugh as you drown in your own mortification.

"Need it that bad, huh?" He coos.

"Yes, please."

The rest of your plea is lost in a moan as Taehyung finds your clit, wrapping his pink lips around the sensitive muscle and giving it a generous suck. Your hands are in his hair before you can think to stop yourself, tugging at his scalp deliciously as his mouth makes its way with you.

Thank goodness for this apartment belonging to just the two of you as the noises that tumbled from your lips surely would've left a roommate blushing.

You're panting, begging for more even though you aren't sure how you'd even handle more. It comes as a delight and slight surprise as fingers suddenly slip inside, wasting no time to rub against your velvety smooth walls, curling themselves inside you.

"Fuck, Tae!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

It was pure reflex. Up until now, you had been watching Taehyung intently, completely consumed by the way his mouth moves against you. How his tongue flicks against your needy clit cruelly. It just felt too fucking good.

You're so wet, positively dripping down his chin as he runs his hot muscle up and down the length of your pussy, devouring you like he hadn't eaten in months, and you were his first meal.

Taehyung’s nothing short of addicting, completely and utterly intoxicating, and you slip further and further to your demise with every lick he takes, every press of his tongue against your clit.

He has a hand pressed against the lower half of your torso, feeling the way you jerk and squirm as he makes a mess of you. You’re close and you know it, too, if not by the way you’re calling his name over and over again, then by the way your thighs tremble, hardly even strong enough to stay up.

"Let go for me, love. I've got you." He sounds so sweet, so angelic, despite how filthy what he was doing to you was.

His words are the push you need, and, like a rubber band that has been stretched past its limit, you finally snap, back arching off the bed as you come with a cry. White fills your vision, and your mind goes blank, only sounds of blissful static filling your ears.

His fingers hold up your quivering legs, mouth pressing kisses onto your pussy encouragingly until you simply can't bear it any longer, pushing his mouth away as you stutter out words of sensitivity and overstimulation.

“I’m going to have to request more of that throughout this marriage.” You manage to say once your vision and breath come back to you.

Grabbing one of your hands, Taehyung brings it to his mouth.

“All you need do is ask,” he replies, making you laugh as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, always a gentleman

Not long after, you find yourself pressed against Taehyung, tongue running against his as he presses his hips into yours. He isn’t coy about his want for you, rolling his cock against your already sensitive center. Warm precum leaks onto your lower abdomen, and suddenly, all you can think about is having him inside you again.

“Taehyung?”

You don’t even need to ask. Hitching your leg around his thigh, he knows exactly what you’re seeking, lining up his leaking cock with your swollen entrance.

Pressing into you, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning out as your warmth envelopes him. You moan out so prettily for him, feeling tight and full with your first orgasm only minutes ago.

“You okay?” he hums, kissing your cheek.

You nod, ears warm at the intimacy of the moment. In many ways, this is nothing like your first time together. You are face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. Between your bodies could be found more than just desire, but commitment. Devotion. Love. 

“I love you, Tae.” You gush, sighing out as he begins to rock into you.

He falters slightly at your confession but recovers quickly, intertwining his hand with yours and pressing it by your head.

Faintly, you realize. 

That was the first time you had ever told him that.

You look up at him, expecting some wide eyes or even a bit of a nervous tilt to his lips, but all you are met with is a glow. He beams down at you, and your heart swells. 

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, but you hear the words in your ears loud and clear.

Soft noises fill the room as the two of you become one—hearts synchronizing with one another in silent promise.

It was a promise unlike the one you had made to each other that day at the altar, for this one was real. This one was true.

You shutter with every thrust of his hips, your abused clit finding itself in the crossfire of Taehyung’s passionate motions.

Whimpering, you cling to him, overwhelmed and emotional, like your heart was about to burst. Taehyung lights a fire in you, sends lightning straight through your core. Every word, every smile, every kiss, every touch, they send shivers down your spine, tingles throughout your skin. It’s like you’re falling in love with him all over whenever you see him, whenever his deep brown eyes meet your own.

You remember being so afraid of love that you broke up with all your old boyfriends because of it. Because you couldn’t commit, because you were worried about your career, because they just didn’t give you that spark. But lying here pressed against him, against your husband, you aren’t afraid. Wrapped up around him, tangled up in him, you know. 

Between messy kisses and words of adoration, you find yourself growing closer and closer to your release. Brows furrowed and neck flushed, you come with a soft whimper of his name, coaxing his own orgasm out of him. He lets go inside you, painting you with his seed in a way that pleases you to no end.

Hand still in yours, he gives it a squeeze, pressing a kiss onto your damp chest, right over where your heart beats for him.

“I love you,” Taehyung says again when you meet his eyes, firmer this time, louder. Like he’s worried you didn’t believe him the first time. 

“I know,” you say with a giggle, the words going straight to your head—and your heart. 

Taehyung scowls. “What, no ‘I love you’ back? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Well, only because you want one so badly,” you tease, pressing a quick kiss to his round button nose. “I love you, too, Tae. Always will.”

“I think I knew, then,” Taehyung says with a fond sigh, nostalgia overcoming his expression. “That first time we met. I knew you would be mine, one day.”

“You got lucky,” you scoff slightly. “But I’m glad things happened the way they did.”

“You’re my dream come true, Y/N,” he says. 

“And you are mine,” you murmur.

As the two of you drift off, all twisted up in each other, so mixed up you can’t figure out where you end and he begins, you think back to that night. That ball. 

“Who are you?” You ask, nose scrunched up in distaste. Before you stood a boy you had never met before, wearing shoes that were too big for him and a suit that was a touch too small. 

He grins at you, running a hand through his perfectly-styled hair fringe swiped neatly over his forehead, and he says, “your dream come true.”

And so it was. 

don’t forget to message me! ~ and don’t forget to message rose!

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics with cocky Harry. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Zip Your Lip (Like A Padlock) | Explicit | 4151 words

Louis is a brat. Harry goes to watch him dance. Can you blame them?

2) Your Apathy’s Like A Wound In Salt | Explicit | 5312 words

“What a fucking ass!” Louis shifts his body so he’s completely facing away from the scene. “I asked him last night to fix my car and he said he would accept a payment in the form of me sucking his dick. I guess he’s really desperate, I can’t believe him.” Louis rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink in one go.

Niall shakes his head and shrugs, “I told you to ask any other mechanic in town but you didn’t listen to me.”

“Well, I didn’t think he would fucking say that now did I, Niall?”

“Louis,” Paige rests a manicured hand on his shoulder, “So, you’re saying you still wouldn’t hit it?”

“My ex?” She nods. “Yeah, I’d still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or a baseball bat.”

Suddenly, Niall spits out his beer all over the table as Paige bursts out laughing. “Fucking ruthless, you are.” Niall runs a hand through his styled hair.

3) Anything Goes | Not Rated | 10275 words

Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.

4 Don't Hold Back Now | Mature | 11103 words

Harry gives Louis everything he asks for except for the one thing he wants the most. If only Louis knew who Harry truly was.

5) Rapture In The Dark | Teen & Up | 13153 words

Harry Styles is a breakout musician who has shed his boyband label in favor of embracing his inner brooding rockstar. His PR team think that his rebrand is the perfect time for Harry to come out of the closet and have devised the perfect plan for doing so. Enter Louis Tomlinson, up and coming (and very openly homosexual) model whose public image as America's Sweetheart is the perfect foil for Harry's new edge. From a PR standpoint, it's a dream come true - a power couple that can slowly coax the public into accepting Harry's altered image. The only problem? They hate each other.

6) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18088 words

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

7) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Part 2 | Part 3

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

8) Nicotine | Explicit | 32345 words

“We’re two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we’d never date.” Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

9) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”

10) Submarine From Hell | Mature | 76049 words

Louis and Harry are the first omega and alpha, respectively, to become submariners, they have to find a way to survive lethally too strong suppressants while being forced to live in confined quarters with each others. In a submarine among betas, they decide to risk their blind noses by stopping all suppressants, but eventually, they must find a way to survive their heat and ruts, all while not getting killed in combat.

11) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76576 words

��Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

12) The Entertainment | Explicit | 94799 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

For Harry's upcoming album release, his team dreams of hiring him a PA to help assist with the burden that comes with a launch. Louis Tomlinson is a highly sought-after PA who's worked with many A-listers.

13) Tainted Sights And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126082 words

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

14) Collision | Explicit | 226294 words

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[oftenderweapons]

Dirty ABCs | Jungkook and Candy

Let’s celebrate birthday boy with early NSFW alphabet!!! LET’S GOOOOO

Pairing: Jungkook x reader/OC (Candy)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Genre: headcanons

Rating: 18+. Minors, do not interact.

Here’s my masterlist, enjoy!

Trigger warnings: switch!jk, switch!candy, swearing. Unprotected sex (penetrative and oral — REMEMBER TO USE PROTECTION AND GET CHECKED REGULARLY), double penetration, quickies, creampie, cockwarming, cum eating. Marking, biting, scratching. Masturbation, boobjobs. Mention of mommy kink. Public foreplay, semi-public sex, exhibitionism. Degradation, praise kink, dirty talking, edging, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Predator/Prey dynamics. Choking. Bondage. Toys (vibrators, cockrings, sex swing… 👀). Mild torture (?). Platonic spanks.

Beta read by my better half, @joheunsaram

Aftercare: Jungkook likes cuddles and pillow talk after sex. He’s very traditional about it. He enjoys how vulnerable he feels and how tender Candy is towards him. He really enjoys the softness of it all, and most importantly being babied. He wants tiddies and a nap. Candy is all about spoiling her boyfriend after he’s burnt out and satisfied. She loves how pliant and open he feels afterwards, how easy it is to connect with him and just let him vent about his worries.

Body part: Another tiddie man. He just loves how soft and relaxing it feels to rest his head on Candy’s breasts. He also loves her hair and how good it always smells. He lives to nuzzle into her neck and breathe her in. Candy loves Jungkook’s back. It’s the sexiest thing ever and she likes watching his back muscles flex when he’s fucking her. She also loves his waist, so dainty and feline. And of course his eyes. She could stare into his loving dark irises for hours. They’re so expressive.

Cum: Inside. Jungkook always wants inside. Her mouth is a close second, but if given the chance he wants to sink deep into her and bathe in the scent of her while sheathed in her warmth. It feels natural and romantic and loving. There’s no other place he would want to be other than inside her, all the time. Candy is okay with anything he wants. Watching his peaceful, serene expression after he’s fucked her hard and has found his orgasm inside her is ultimately one of the reasons why she loves having sex with Jungkook.

Dirty secret: Jungkook had been secretly nursing a mommy kink for a while. It did pop up once during one of his and Candy's little encounters, but it's not something he feels ready to face. He is so ashamed of it. Candy is really into Jungkook being her whiny, subby, precious good boy. She only wants to spoil him rotten all the time. However she can't stop thinking about all the girls out there willing to give up a lung to have a one night stand with him. Sometimes she just wishes she could dominate him in public. Tie him up, ride him raw till he's dry.

Experience: Jungkook has had only one partner, with whom the sex felt pretty awful. He didn't really think he was into it or could go that wild before he and Candy started sleeping together. Candy is fairly experienced. She has had three or four short term relationships. Maybe a couple flings.

Favourite position: Jungkook can't pick just one. Well, actually yes: missionary, but with Candy's legs pressed together and thrown over his shoulder but also spread apart, her knees pressed to her shoulders. Candy really likes it when he picks her up and fucks her against the wall, or when he gets really creative. That usually entails lots of laughing and joking and communicating.

Goofy: maybe. It depends. If they're making love, then I do see Jungkook getting emotional and Candy brightening the mood with cute jokes and compliments. They do tend to be goofy when they're together, but usually not during sex. It's either a very emotionally raw moment or vicious fucking.

Hair: Jungkook shaves. He's a neat freak and shaves. He does so religiously. Candy is not that consistent, sometimes she shaves, sometimes she trims. Depends on the mood.

Intimacy: it's very demure but it's there. You wouldn't notice it because the moment Jungkook enters beast mode, it's pretty much degradation and overstimulation all over the place. But it's there too! It's in the mere fact that he trusts her enough to forget how to be civil and decent and just unleashes himself all over her. For the first ten times or so it's shy and attempted, he tiptoes around the very edge of control, but once she tells him she loves him, he goes all out and never stops. He explores and pleases. That's his nature. Candy is the one that grants intimacy the most. He knows he can go wild because she's his anchor, keeping things loving and gentle and tender even through the storm. Now, once Jungkook subs though… intimacy galore. Little touches and small kisses and endless tight hugs. Her first goal is to make him feel safe. And that happens through intimacy.

Jack off: These two? Really? No, you didn't understand. If Jungkook has even a remote chance of cumming inside her, there's no way he's masturbating. He will 300% ignore his instincts until he can have her. And it's pretty difficult for Candy not to be in the mood — or not to get into the mood, if need be. She's also not one for masturbating. She does it only when he's not available, be it because he's abroad or he's too busy. But he's always her first choice. Generally speaking it might happen that he's not in the mood and she decides to take a quick shower and deal with it herself, but usually he's joining her after a couple minutes, his mind changed, a bunny smile on his face as he winks and hops in.

Kink: First and foremost, cockwarming. Creampies shortly after. Candy has a thing for marking him, especially scratches down his muscular upper back. Their kinks depend on who's domming: if it's Jungkook, there's plenty of degradation and high chances of predator/prey dynamics. He gets very horny if Candy plays hard to catch, and he discovers it accidentally, after Candy stole the last serving of his favourite snack. Useless to say, the snack was forgotten and they fucked on the floor. Candy likes choking (receiving) and pretty much anything Jungkook is willing to try. She can't wait to try double penetration with him, she's just waiting for him to open up about the topic. When domming, she's into sensory deprivation, bondage, praise kink and edging, especially when boobjobs are involved, since JK is particularly sensitive about the topic. As long as she has him whining and begging below her, she's ready to try anything.

Location: Well, the bedroom is the place of choice for most occasions. Not always though. The shower is a strong opponent. If they do get naughty outside of their home, it's usually in quite private places too. Hotel rooms. Club or restaurant bathrooms. Foreplay in the lift and on the dance floor — mostly Candy rubbing herself all over Jungkook. Well, they did get nasty in a cave once, but that's another story.

Motivation: as I said, playing catch with Jungkook is always a good way to get him in the mood. He's extremely weak for breasts, so anything regarding those is a hot topic too. Candy often wears loose/low neck shirts and leans over, offering him a glimpse of her lack of bra. Low neckline and no bra usually means "please, fuck me across the living room, thank you" in Candy language. While for Candy, watching Jungkook work out or just get sweaty and flirty is a total panty snatcher. You'll find her bent over, ass up, ready for the take.

No: Jungkook doesn't like receiving degradation. Memories of his ex make him uncomfortable with that. Other than that, he strongly opposes to anything that involves hardcore domination. He can be a dom, but he's extremely sensitive about what he does and some acts are a bit too aggressive for his opinion. Candy hadn't tried anything unconventional before Jungkook, and so far all her past no's have turned into hard yes with Jungkook. She's still exploring her limits.

Oral: Jungkook? Hell yes. He likes receiving but he by far prefers giving, especially when Candy is domming or directing him. He could do that for hours, and his love for the act almost rivals that of our local kitty cat Yoongi. His true joy is being rewarded going for multiples with his head between Candy's thighs. Especially if he's cum inside her. Not too fast though, he needs some cockwarming first. Candy is a true fan of giving head. She especially likes doing so when Jungkook is in a subby and bratty mood. Listening to him getting vocal about his appreciation is always the greatest compliment to her, and also an excellent way to discipline him when he gets cocky.

Pace: Fast. Hard. That's all there is. If he's setting the pace, it's outright demonic, hitting at least 74bpm (it's Kiwi by Harry Styles in halftime). Yes, he can go slower, usually when he's in lover boy mode or even better, when he's trying to show Candy who's the boss. Slow, lazy rolls of his hips reaching unknown depths. If Candy's on top/domming it's all about it being intimate, calm, relaxing even. She wants Jungkook to explore a sensuality he is too rushed and forceful for. Through her slow and steady approach she helps him embrace a more feminine and spiritual sexuality that borders on the psychological and tantric.

Quickie: yes. Hard yes. He is the best with quickies. Just get it over with so they're both relieved and they can chat about their day while he's still inside her. There's not much to say. Just yes.

Risk: they prefer avoiding it, however they're young and experimenting, therefore they do sometimes get a bit past the safety line. The biggest risk for them is doing anything where they could be spotted, therefore they're really subtle and overall not too explicit about anything happening in a semi-public context. Except, that one time while they were on holiday, of course. And that other time in which Candy almost jerked him off in a restaurant before blowing him in his car.

Stamina: Insane. Jungkook's stamina is more about endurance rather than control. He can make Candy cum five or six times while he cums twice and is more than glad. He can go for two consecutive rounds without breaking a sweat. For himself he's usually more than happy with a round of foreplay and one of fucking, but if he's determined enough, he can last one more. He usually doesn't push himself that far though, he does when he's been deprived for long enough.

Toy: Although toys aren't usually a part of their sex life, they do use them every now and then. Vibrators, vibrating cockrings, oh! And their sex swing, of course. That's what they use the most, yes.

Unfair: If Jungkook is in hard dom mode, he is very unfair, plenty of teasing and taunting matched with mockery and degradation. He can keep Candy on her toes for a full hour, giving her small reprieve every here and there. Candy is also equally torturous: if she's domming, she's not done edging him until he's whining, sobbing, begging and possibly crying.

Volume: Normally, Candy is very quiet however, Jungkook always goes the extra mile to make her moan and whine, especially if he's eating her out. Jungkook can be especially eloquent with his sounds: grunting and groaning are typically for his dommier side, while whining and whimpering are usually for his subby one. Moaning is all over the place. Consider also a good amount of murmuring and mumbling some dirty talking. Not too much though.

Wild card: Jungkook likes his hair being combed during aftercare. Candy always relaxes while he speaks loving words to make up for the degradation and mockery. She could fall asleep while combing his hair, she's just that tired and comfortable. Also! When he installed the sex swing in their room, he decided it was a good idea to have permanent hooks on the ceiling, mask them with fake plants. Crackhead.

X-Ray: Jungkook has a nice cock. Not too long, not too thick but it has an upward curve that makes stuff interesting. He's probably around six or seven inches. Candy has objectively nice breasts, full, round, truly well structured. And she has a nice ass too, Jungkook likes squeezing it when she throws her leg on top of him during cuddles. He also spanks it a few tens of times a day — not in the sexual way tho, but more in that encouragement/comradery way he has learnt with the guys.

Yearning: Jungkook can go without sex for a long time. I'm talking about a month and more. It's not a priority for him, except right after he and Candy sleep together for the first time, when he needed to get rid of the high. With him, everything is very inconsistent: one week you're having sex every day, and the following one, he's just all about the cuddles and fluff. Candy is up for anything, however she prefers having sex at least once or twice a week. Both feel safe to initiate without fearing being denied. For them, arousal is very easily built through playing and bantering.

Zzz: both take a while to fall asleep after sex. Plenty of time for pillow talking and cleaning up, though they prefer doing so very pragmatically. Any time spent apart during aftercare is a waste to both of them: they just want to talk things out, relax, bask in each other's warm presence.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lessons 18-20

Series Masterlist

T-the season finale… *sniffle* it��s been a wild ride y’all… I’ve never actually written and stuck through with something for so long, so this is a real achievement for me! I really hope you guys have enjoyed this completely weird fluffy/angsty/mildly crackhead adventure! Please enjoy the last part!

All is well, the family is back together, everyone’s fine, the school year is almost over-

Wait, the school year is almost over?

Upon realizing that, everyone settled into a state of mild panic.

MC couldn’t just leave, they were part of the family! An integral part! They were the only thing keeping everyone from murdering each other during family game night!

As for Lucifer’s personal feelings on the matter, things were… tough.

When the exchange program was announced, Lucifer expected it to end like most of Diavolo’s ideas: annoying to clean up, it certainly couldn’t have ended worse than when he and the Crown Prince ended up getting cursed to hold hands for 25 hours straight. What Lucifer didn’t expect was for a child he didn’t even know he had to end up as the human exchange student and for his entire life to be thrown out of whack. That child of his was busy finishing up their final paper of the year.

“Hey, father,” MC looked up from their paper with a cheeky smile. “Do you think that the next exchange student will be as fun as me?”

“I sincerely hope not.” Lucifer sighed, continuing to sift through his paperwork on his desk. “Your kind of ‘excitement’ has completely worn me out.”

“Aw,” MC giggled, then went back to work. “So you don’t want me to stay here then?”

Lucifer stiffened and looked up from his paperwork. “Don’t put words in my mouth, MC.”

“So you do want me to stay. Interesting~” MC said as they began to sweep the eraser shavings off their paper. “Well, if you want me to stay so badly, you could have just asked.”

“P-pardon?” Lucifer blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “You want to stay?”

“Since you’d be so sad without me, I guess I just have to don’t I?” MC stood suddenly and slapped their finished essay on Lucifer’s desk. “The sacrifices I make for this family, I swear!”

We stand with you, MC, sacrifice your sanity for your weird-ass familia.

Anyway, Lucifer was thrilled that MC wanted to stay with him in the Devildom, the problem was… MC’s other parent may not have been too keen to just give up their baby.

You know, the demon child they raised all by themselves, with no help from Lucifer because he didn’t know MC existed…

Someone get MC’s ren on the phone! Stat!

“Alright dear little brothers of mine, listen closely because I’m not repeating this.” Lucifer looked over the living room couches at the other six rulers of hell. Belphie was sprawled out on one of the couches and was drooling all over Beel’s lap, Satan was making a point to look as disinterested as possible and kept sneaking glances at the book he was holding, and Mammon was wrestling Levi dangerously close to where Asmo was filing his nails.

Sighing in defeat, Lucifer continued. If any of his brothers misbehaved he couldn’t say he didn’t warn them. “MC‘s parent will be coming to visit.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Lucifer. Wonderful.

“They’ll be staying for a few days and will decide if it’s in MC’s best interest to primarily stay in the Devildom from now on.”

Asmodeus slowly raised a hand. “Luciiiiiiferrrr!”

“Asmo, is your question overly personal in nature?”

The Avatar of lust brought a manicured nail to his cheek and daintily tapped it. “Mmm… I don’t think so.”

“Ask.”

“How long were you and MC’s parent dating for? Won’t it be awkward to be around your ex?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face. “It was a one night thing.”

“Really?” Asmo knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “It wasn’t a long drawn out forbidden romance? You must have had some Olympic swimmers down there!”

“Okay!” Lucifer clapped his hands. “Add that to the list of things Asmo is not allowed to say.”

“We have to take something off the list then…” Beel said through handfuls of chips. “The list’s full.”

“Fine,” Lucifer grumbled. “He can say [CENSORED] again.”

“Yippee! [CENSORED] [CENSORED] [CENSORED]”

The group collectively groaned as Asmo continued to spout his profane nonsense.

“What did I just walk in on..?” MC stood in the doorway to the living room, still in their PJs.

“Oh, MC, your parent’s coming over to stay for a few days.” Lucifer quickly explained.

MC’s face morphed from confusion to horror. “What does that have to do with [CENSORED]?!”

This house is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE-

Anyway, after the initial confusion/horror, MC got really excited and rushed off to get ready. Meanwhile, the boys solemnly swore that they would be on their best behaviour!

Everyone needed to convince MC’s parent that everything in the Devildom was perfectly safe and that their little hellspawn was in good responsible hands.

Mammon tried to come up with a plan in case MC wasn’t allowed to stay with them, and let’s just say it involved kidnapping. But like- a chill kind of kidnapping where MC would be totally fine.

This idea was immediately shot down in favour of Beel’s plan B.

Beel would just… eat MC’s parent. No biggie, right?

Lucifer shot that one down the moment he heard it.

The only accepted plan for if MC wasn’t allowed to stay was just letting them go. They’d visit the Devildom. A lot. Many visits would be necessary.

So, the hour of MC’s ren’s arrival had come, and the student council assembled to greet them.

Greet the human. The completely non magical human. Greet them and then let them see the Devildom…

Was this exchange program really that good of an idea..?

MC frantically attempted to do some last minute fixes to their hair as they sat themselves down in their seat in the Assembly Hall. Ugh… stupid hair…

“Why are you so nervous?” Satan asked. “Is our visitor a neat freak basket case?”

“No!” MC huffed. “They’re not! I’m just making myself presentable so they don’t think I’ve gone completely feral down here.”

“Well, feral no, crazy, yes. Have you seen yourself lately?” Belphie snickered.

“SHUT UP BELPHIE.”

“Would you all be quiet?” Lucifer snapped. “You’re all acting like children.”

“I am a child.” MC snapped back. “What’s Belphie’s excuse?”

Belphie’s retort was cut off by the portal opening and a figure leisurely floating to the ground. They had an open parasol in their right hand that seemed to be aiding their gentle descent, and a large container full of what smelled like cookies tucked into their left side. The moment their toes touched the floor, the human gracefully closed their parasol and gave the assembled demons a sparkling smile and a polite bow.

“Thank you for allowing me the honour to visit,” the human’s voice was as soft and sweet as Cotton candy. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet the princes of hell themselves.”

:D yay!

After floating down from the sky like Mary Poppins, MC lost all sense of propriety and ran over to tackle their ren into a hug. It was that kind of thing where you really miss someone but you don’t realize exactly how much until you get to see them again.

Lucifer was, of course, the picture of elegance and “this isn’t awkward at all”-ness.

MC’s parent didn’t even seem to be all that concerned with the fact that their baby daddy was, y'know, LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. THE MOST POMPOUS FUCKWAD IN THE DEVILDOM.

Please don’t tell him I said that, he’s still mad about the Go Fund Me…

MC was absolutely ecstatic to finally show their parent how much they’ve grown in terms of their demonic powers and all the friends they had made, but MC’s ren was more concerned with how much they had grown in terms of their height.

“You’re just so tall now,” MC’s ren giggled as they fixed their child’s hair. “You’ll get things off of shelves for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah yeah,” MC said, rolling their eyes good naturedly. “Like you can’t reach anything in your kitchen.”

“Okay,” Mammon, Satan, Levi, Belphie, and Beel were lagging behind Lucifer, MC, their parent, and Diavolo. “Change of plans, we ain’t eatin’ ‘em, we’re keepin’ ‘em.”

“We were never going to eat them in the first place, idiot.” Satan sneered. “And what’s with the change of tune? You were ready to wage war on the human world fifteen minutes ago.”

“…cookies happened.” Mammon mumbled. He had only gotten one of the human’s totally amazing offerings before Beel proceeded to eat everything. The cookie was perfect… so delicious…

“I say we keep the human.” Beel put a hand on his stomach. “I want more human world cookies.”

“They’re so cute too…” Asmo cooed. “A solid 10/10, and that’s such a rare ranking coming from the only 20/10 in existence!”

“Asmo, your vanity never ceases to make me want to roll over and-” Belphie’s insult was interrupted by him passing out and letting out a cartoonishly loud snore. It was a good thing Beel was able to quickly catch and throw Belphie over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Asmo has a point, they’re just so totally moe! Kawaii to the highest degree! That parasol, the homemade cookies, it’s just like something from a slice of life anime!” Levi squee-ed.

“So it’s settled, we treat ‘em nice, then we get ‘em to stay.” Mammon nodded to the rest of his brothers, who for the first time in the Demon King knows how long, his little brothers nodded back in full seriousness. They were actually doing a Mammon plan! Holy shit!

So, the brothers liked MC’s ren, what about Diavolo and Barbatos?

Well, MC’s ren had heard all about Barbatos’ amazing cooking from MC and Barb’s totally outstanding reputation, so the two got along swimmingly.

Dia. Loved. That. Human. They’re cute???? They’re sweet???? They brought COOKIES???! They don’t seem to be afraid of him at all????? Please be the exchange student next year :D

Oh yeah… he made a rule that said they couldn’t summon someone with kids… it would be cruel to rip a parent away from their child…

But apparently not a child away from their parent cough cough

Other than the uncle squad, MC’s ren got to meet the Purgatory Hall gang too!

MC was being just the most adorable tour guide, but that didn’t stop Lucifer from having a miniature heart attack any time a demon even looked at MC’s parent the wrong way. If MC’s ren got attacked or felt threatened in any way shape or form, he could say bye bye to his time with the one person in the HOL that didn’t live to make him pop a forehead vein. The human seemed outwardly unconcerned with any Devildom oddness and was amicably chatting with Diavolo while MC pulled them from place to place.

“And that’s Hell’s Kitchen, they have good sandwiches, and that’s Madame Scream’s, they have really good macarons.” MC helpfully pointed out the places as they passed them.

A much to familiar trio of voices called out from down the street. Father dammit, why were they here..?

“Hello Lucifer, what are you all up too?” Ugh… Simeon…

“From the sight of the rest of your brothers skulking about, it appears like they’re acting as bodyguards.” Solomon…

“MC? Who’s that?”

Oh good grief… that nasally little voice… the chihuahua was near… Now… Lucifer was a respectable demon… respectable demons don’t tease children in front of the parent of their child…

“Hello chihuahua.”

DAMN IT HE COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF!

“I’m not a chihuahua you demon!” Luke yapped.

MC’s parent daintily tilted their head and looked over at MC. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

“Right, Luke, this is my ren, ren, this is a chihuahua.” MC grinned cheekily as they gestured between the two. Lucifer suppressed a laugh which resulted in a very ugly snort. It was a good thing the sound was drowned out by Luke’s exclamations of betrayal.

The chorus of “how could you?!”s and “I thought you were over that awful nickname!”s was put to an abrupt halt when the visiting human elegantly offered a handshake to the fuming angel.

“MC spoke very highly of you,” they chirped. “It’s very nice to meet you, Luke.”

Luke blinked a few times, then quickly straightened his posture, adjusted his hat, then shook MC’s ren’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“That’s Simeon.” MC jerked a thumb in Simeon’s direction. “And that’s Solomon.”

“Luke got a whole introduction and we get that? Come on MC, I thought we were friends.” Solomon fake pouted at MC after giving a polite nod to MC’s parent.

“We stopped being friends after one of the potions you had me test out turned me into a-” as quick as lighting, Mammon had shoved his hand into MC’s face.

“A-ah, MC’s rememberin’ stuff wrong, nothin’ potion related happened to ‘em. Right, Solomon???!”

Taking the hint from Mammon, Solomon smiled and nodded. “Nope, nothing related to turning MC into a frog for a few hours.”

“Hm, well I’m quite happy that absolutely nothing frog transformation related happened.” MC’s parent said.

“Yeah, must’ve hit their head on somethin- YEEEOW!” MC had bitten down on Mammon’s hand and slapped it away from them.

“I did not hit my head on anything!”

“Yeah,” Beel nodded. “Nothing’s hit them since the Fangol ball.”

“The what ball?” MC’s ren asked.

“The Fangol ball that hit MC a few months back and broke their glasses.” Five of the brothers slapped their hands to their foreheads.

“Oh my…”

“Eh,” MC patted their ren on the arm. “That’s nothing compared to the giant snake at the retreat.”

“Oh! Do you mind letting me tell that story, MC?”

Lucifer was frantically signalling for Diavolo to stop talking but the crown prince was already beginning his retelling of the events. Luke would chime in with an anecdote from an even worse misadventure the two had gone out on every once and a while. This… this wasn’t going well at all…

MC’s ren was… weirdly chill about the whole thing…

“Oh, it’s so nice that you’re having fun, sweetheart. That reminds me of when I was young and your aunt Clytemnestra and I would go out and have adventures.” “Really? You went on weird adventures too?” “…what kind of adventures could possibly compare to being chased by a giant snake in an underground labyrinth..?”

The side characters ended up needing to abscond for various reasons and all that was left was the brothers, MC, and MC’s parent.

They made it to the HOL without issue, which is when Lucifer remembered that he did not put all the cursed objects out of reach… shit.

“Asmo… Asmo!” “What is it?” “Take MC’s ren out of the house in half an hour, keep them occupied in the living room!” “What? Why?” “I need more time to human-proof the house! Distract them, but no funny business!” “Dear brother, for the first time in a very long time funny business is the second thing on my mind! Wait… no, it’s the third… what have I become..?”

Asmo and Satan, super graciously by the way, led MC and their ren to the living room to distract- I mean entertain them for a bit!

Lucifer and the rest of the gang got to work moving certain things around and closing certain doors- shit where was Cerberus?! Did Lucifer forget to walk him that morning?!

So much to dooooooo…

So maybe bringing a human into Majolish and letting them roam around unsupervised wasn’t the best idea Satan and Asmo had, but it sure as heck was an idea. MC looked through shelves of hairpins and bracelets while their ren disappeared around a corner to look at scarves.

“We’re doing such a great job babysitting!” Asmo clapped his hands. “If MC had just been a normal human I bet they’d last the entire year under our care.”

“Hm, you might be right.” Satan smiled and nodded. “Humans are surprisingly entertaining.”

“Yes… speaking of, where exactly is the human?”

The sudden sound of metal slamming against flesh and the delayed sound of something incredibly heavy hitting the floor jolted Asmo and Satan from their conversation.

“Honestly, some people have no fucking manners!”

It was such a different voice than what Satan and Asmo were used to that the only thing that tipped them off to it being MC’s ren was the fact that MC began to giggle. MC’s ren stepped back into view carrying a metal staff that quickly transformed back to their parasol.

Asmo and Satan rushed over to check if their defenceless little human guest was okay, only to find some lesser demon passed out on the floor with an incredibly nasty bump on the side of their head.

“I’ve heard that humans are apparently quite delicious to demons but I didn’t expect someone to actually try and eat me.”

“I-um…” Satan sputtered, looking from Asmo to MC’s parent. “We’re uh…”

“You alright, ren?” MC called from over by the bracelet shelves.

“Yes, I’m alright.” MC’s ren gave the fourth and fifth born a calming smile. “No harm done, well, except to that poor bastard. I do hope I haven’t killed him… that would be such a nasty thing for the poor sales associates to find.”

Okay so maybe the defenceless human wasn’t so defenceless. That was a good thing… right?

“So where exactly did you manage to get your hands on such a weapon..?” “Ah, I come from a family of witches. This was a college graduation present.”

…doit doit seems legit.

The four made it back home just in time, Lucifer and the others had finished human proofing the house.

Yay!

The house tour went by smoothly, everything was all well and good until Beel and Belphie asked MC’s ren to make more cookies.

Oh god dammit the human said they would.

“Oh Beel, you shouldn’t eat the cookie dough raw… the eggs and raw flour will make you sick!” “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s best not to interrupt Beel while he’s eating.” “Yeah it might end like the custard incident.” “Custard… incident?” “MC and Mammon ate my custard and I ended up breaking the wall that connected to MC’s room.” “Hunger tantrums, am I right?”

After that it was Mammon and Levi’s turn to babysit. It went about as well as you’d think.

Levi explained some anime plot in an attempt to make it seem like the Devildom was totally safe and that MC and their ren could stay forever no problem, while Mammon desperately suppressed the urge to swipe the cool parasol.

Finally, it was time for the verdict. Would MC be allowed to stay in the Devildom..? Or would they go back to the human world..?

“Lucifer?”

The demon in question looked up from his paperwork and tried to nod in the most casual way possible. MC’d ren was standing in the doorway, Lucifer must have missed their knock. “Yes? Do you need something?”

MC’s ren smiled and nodded. “It’s about MC’s living situation going forward.”

Lucifer stiffened and got up from his desk. “Y-yes… what about it?”

“MC has expressed that they want to stay here full time with frequent visits to the human world.” The softness that their voice had earlier in the day was completely absent as the human stepped forward into the study and closed the door behind them. “I want to know what you think about that.”

“Well,” Lucifer cleared his throat and tried to shake off the stupid sense of nervousness that had wrapped itself around him. A weak little human’s decision should not make him so anxious! “I would like for MC to stay here as well, I think it would be best for them.”

The human raised an eyebrow and twirled their parasol in their hand. “Really now? In your year with them you truly believe you know what’s best for them?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I do.”

MC’s ren went quiet for a few seconds before replying. “I see.”

“And that means..?”

“I knew this day would come, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon.” MC’s ren sighed, and for the first time all day, they actually let their exhaustion show. “I raised MC knowing that one day they’d end up in the Devildom. They’ve told me over and over again how much they like it down here…” the human took a deep breath and slowly shook their head. “If this is what they want… then I give my permission for them to stay with you.”

A wave of relief swept over Lucifer as he finally took a breath. “Thank you.”

“Mm… I’m going to have to use my favour though.”

The relief completely vanished as the Avatar of Pride’s blood ran cold. Memories flooded back from the one night the pair had spent together, the human had offered a cursed record to him that he had spent decades trying to find, in exchange, Lucifer let them have one favour. A favour from a demon was like a single pact order, Lucifer had to do literally anything this human wanted.

“Protect MC, even if it costs you your life.” The human’s words were careful and measured as Lucifer felt the order sink in. “You’ll do that for them, right Lucifer?”

Lucifer nodded as life flooded back into his limbs. “I would have done it without the order.”

So, the brother’s plan to make MC’s ren stay forever failed because they were going back to the human world with MC for summer vacation. Listen, it was needed, MC needed to see the sun lest they shrivel like a sad houseplant.

At least Lucifer technically had primary custody of his little heathen! Victory!

MC said their goodbyes to the friends they had made over the year as they prepared to leave for the next two months, it was filled with so many bone-crushing hugs that MC was surprised that their spine didn’t snap.

MC and Luke had lagged behind the much larger group as they made their way to the assembly hall. MC’s ren was dazzling the miniature crowd with stories of just how adorable MC was as a little kid. The half demon rolled their eyes and silently mourned the loss of any cool points they had gained over the year. Their little companion was oddly quiet, MC lightly nudged him and smiled.

“Aren’t you happy to be going home? You’ve been griping about being stuck down here the entire year. Don’t tell me you’re getting sappy, Luke.”

Luke puffed his cheek out and crossed his arms. “Of course I’m happy to be leaving, the Celestial Realm is the best place ever, the Devildom is completely terrible in every way.”

MC smirked and rolled their eyes again. Just let the little guy go on his rant…

“But… I am going to miss you…” Luke mumbled, MC’s eyebrows shot upwards as they turned their head to look at him. “Th-thanks for being my friend down here… MC. You’re… you’re really nice.”

To their absolute horror, MC felt a lump form in their throat. Oh dear Grandfather… the chihuahua was what broke them?! They quickly looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, then quickly pulled Luke into a hug. The hug was over as fast as it began, but it seemed that Luke didn’t particularly care and was more shocked at the sudden bout of affection.

“If anyone, and I mean anyone asks, I didn’t hug you.” MC murmured, quickly swiping at their eyes.

Luke nodded, a small smile spread across his face. “Got it!”

So the side characters left… *sniffle* everything’s okay… the DDDs work in any of the realms… they could still talk.

Soon, it was time for the final sets of goodbyes…

“Come on, Bean, we’re going to the human world!” MC tried to take the cat from Satan, who didn’t move a muscle.

“If you think you’re taking the cat from here, you’re delusional.” Satan’s smile didn’t leave his face, but the force behind his words was almost enough to make MC back off. Almost…

“My caaaaaat!” MC whined, they ended up getting lightly pushed away by Satan.

“Remember, the summer’s a good time to catch up on anime!” Levi advised. “There’s 24 hours in a day, and an average anime episode is 22 minutes long, you have loads of time!”

“I’ll keep up with my anime only if you promise to listen to the Death Note musical, Levi.” MC giggled and patted Levi on the shoulder.

“Remember MC, take care of your cuticles and your skin.” Asmo took MC’s hand and checked their fingernails. “They were an absolute mess before you got here, so I expect you to keep up your routines this summer!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeees siiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr.”

“Bye MC,” Beel handed MC a half opened cup of custard. “I almost ate it, but I didn’t. Make sure you don’t skip any meals this summer.

MC jumped up and gave Beel a quick hug. “Thanks Beel! I’ll be sure to enjoy the custard!”

“Bye, MC. See you next year.” Belphie stood awkwardly stiff, not exactly sure what to do. MC pursed their lips, then quickly wrapped him up in a hug.

“Bye Belphie, I hope all your pillow forts are structurally unsound.”

The avatar of sloth snickered and rested his head on MC’s. “I hope you get really comfortable and are fully ready to go to sleep, then realize you have to pee.”

MC gasped in fake offence and swatted Belphie on the arm.

Mammon put both his hands on MC’s shoulders, his face unusually serious. “Do ya remember what the great Mammon took painstakin’ effort to teach ya?”

“Payday loans are scams, witches are scary, bowline knots are the easiest to undo, don’t wear reflective sunglasses to a poker game aaaaaaaand…” MC grinned mischievously. “Any plan thought up by the Great Mammon should be subject to intense revision.”

“That’s ri- hey!” Mammon laughed and shoved MC towards Lucifer.

MC looked up at Lucifer, the pride demon looked down at them fondly. He reached out and gently ruffled their hair. “I’ll see you next year, MC.”

“Y-yeah…”

Lucifer crouched down slightly to get to their level and gave MC a smile. “I’m very proud of you, you’ve been an immense help this year. Thank you for everything.”

“Thanks for not being a stereotypical supervillain dad, father.” MC smiled softly and fixed their glasses. “Loveyoubye!”

MC turned and rushed to their ren’s side as Lucifer let out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too, MC.”

As Barbatos readied the portal to send the pair to the human world, MC couldn’t wipe the grin off their face. Geez, if this year was a metric mess of fun and insanity… what was the next year going to be like? The half demon’s grin morphed into a bit of a smirk. No way in hell their next year in the Devildom was going to be as insane as their first year.

MC almost giggled as they gave their family one last wave. That wasn’t the time to think about the future, besides, MC knew that it would take two insane chaotic humans to be summoned into the Devildom to even come close to the chaos MC managed to create, both on purpose and by accident.

And what were the odds of that happening?

——————

Authors Note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS DONE SEASON ONE IS DONE!

I wasn’t able to fit the Anti Lucifer League stuff into this one, I’ll put it in a separate fic later!

I NOW NEED TO WORK ON GETTING THROUGH SEASON 2 IN THE ACTUAL GAME. To get mildly serious for a second, thanks to everyone who has stuck around to listen to me spout my fic-y nonsense, you all are nerds (affectionate) and I love you.

[adonis-koo]

Blue Spring

| 4 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there...Well...besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter...if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words...You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Previous | Next

The last few months...were not easy.

Seo Yeon was not one to give up easily and she in fact did attempt to file for full custody over Mina, it was an absolute nightmare for Jungkook but you were with him every step of the way. Keyword, she tried. Three months, it was ongoing for the two of them, but eventually Jungkook won, you’d never forget the tears of relief he cried that day while hugging you. He’d never have to worry about Seo Yeon taking his beautiful baby away again.

“I’m just glad things are beginning to settle down y’know?” It was nice having things back to normal, the looming weight and pressure was constantly over your shoulders the whole two months the custody battle was going on. You had admittedly been terrified with each day you watched Mina wondering if it would be your last with her.

Even after the battle it still took another month for things to really go back to normal, for the tension both you and Jungkook had been under to slowly dissipate. Pausing your coloring you sighed as you watched Mina, who was happily perched on your lap color over the spot you had been working on with her pink colored pencil, “Rightly so, it was insane with everything going on with Jungkook’s ex. I’m just glad you guys won the battle, he would’ve been crushed if Seo Yeon actually won.” Chloe hummed as she leaned back in her chair as best she could.

You shuddered to think if Seo Yeon had won, she was manipulative and almost seemed unstable. You’d even go as far as to say she didn’t even really love Mina, it alway came across she was just using her as a tool to get Jungkook back. It made you feel disgusted.

“I don’t even wanna think about it. I’m just glad it’s over. It feels like maybe we’ll be able to spend more time together without constantly worrying.” You sighed as you went back to coloring, pressing your lips together as you honed in on princess Aurora’s hair.

“I’m sure you guys will probably be able to...you know...get it on easier than the past few months huh.” Lisa hummed, her eyes peering out over the room like a hawk.

You nearly choked on your own spit as you glanced up at both of your coworkers who seemed rather taken aback by your reaction, “Uh…” You nibbled against your lip, well aware your face was probably flushed as you glanced back down at the table.

“Shut up!” Chloe immediately straightened her posture, her hands pressed against the table as she leaned in, “You guys haven’t!?”

You sunk in your chair a little as you pressed your lips together, feeling like the tips of your ears were on fire as you shrugged meekly, “It was never the right time…” Your friend's expressions morphed into somewhat pity, as if understanding given what the circumstances were, “With everything that was going on, we were almost always preoccupied...I mean he tried a few times.” You muttered under your breath making Lisa choke on her drink as they both began laughing, a small smile peaking on your lips as you laughed with them, “But like I said, it was never the right time…”

“But hey...it’s been about a month now...y’know...just saying.” Chloe took a sip of her coffee as if she totally wasn’t insinuating what you all knew she was. You glanced back down at the coloring sheet, Mina had nearly covered it in pink making your lips curve up a little.

Shrugging meekly you answered, “It’ll happen when it happens. I mean don’t get me wrong Jungkook is...definitely ready…” You felt your cheeks flush at the memories of less than innocent text conversations. The once meek and docile boy you knew had completely changed in these few months to a confident man who was eager to get his hands on you, with every smirk, innuendo and steamy text. Jungkook had made it very clear he wanted this. But he never pushed or pursued outside of teasing, not wanting to pressure you or make you feel obligated. But admittedly just the idea made you squirm in embarrassment and heat. Of course you wanted to be beneath him, you were with him every step of such a harsh and taxing journey, you shared tears of joy together, you wanted nothing more than him.

You clacked your tongue, positive your cheeks were flushed as you glanced back at your paper, working around the spots Mina had colored in with her pencil. It wasn’t like sex was everything, you cherished your relationship with Jungkook regardless, but...Maybe you were just scared? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to worry about it. It would happen when the time was right.

The day passed relatively normal, you had gotten up several times to attend to other children and each time Mina was whiny, toddling behind you while gurgling, she was forming words now but nothing actually comprehensible, she was very enthusiastic regardless. Unless, again you were with another child, in which her speech would become more whiny and she'd stamp her feet as if thinking for sure that would gain your attention.

It was rather funny because Mina was a very jealous child, not just with other children but between you and Jungkook as well, always trying to capture not just his but your attention as well. It was cute. The day had gone relatively fast and by the time the evening rolled around kids were beginning to get picked up left and right.

Jungkook was no exception, peeking his head into the room as the smile twitched on his lips as he fondly watched Mina experimentally attach two magnet trains together, she immediately bounced on your lap with an excited gurgle as she showed you her two piece train, “Oh my goodness! Isn’t that so neat honey?” You cooed with a smile twisting on your lips as you leaned down, “But I think someone is watching you…”

Mina immediately perked as if knowing this little routine that anytime you brought someone up it was almost always daddy. She shrilled with excitement when her eyes landed on Jungkook, but rather than tumble off your lap she bounced while fisting your shirt as if trying to get you to pick her up.

Snorting you curved a brow as you stood up, setting her on your hip as you clacked your tongue, “Even she knows I go with you most days now.” Mina had gotten way too used to you leaving with you both and it was really beginning to show.

Chuckling Jungkook stretched out his arms as Mina mirrored him, passing her off as he replied, “Can’t help it, you know you were the one who taught her that.” Even at the tender age of one, Mina was used to you being with them most days now, and oftentimes not wanting to take no for an answer when you had to leave.

Rolling your eyes you picked up her backpack as you replied, “Well if someone didn’t insist I go home with him most days she wouldn’t have those expectations.” Jungkook puckered his lips, as if trying to keep the smile that kept tugging at his lips, sighing you could feel your own lips tug into a smile as you hummed, “If you’re ready I’m ready. I just need to clock out.”

You both stepped out of the room, bidding your friends goodbye who both sent you suggestive looks making you flush as you closed the gate. Going behind the counter you clocked out before heading out.

Days like these were more common than not, it worked out that you got off around the time Jungkook usually picked Mina up, give or take a few minutes and he was always happy for you to stay for dinner. You both had even taken up the habit of cooking together- well...it was more like Jungkook was teaching you how to cook. But he always made it fun to learn. Tonight was no exception as you both made...well attempted to make Bulgogi, had it not been for Jungkook the beef would have probably been a lot more chewy and less flavorful.

Cutting up little pieces you placed your chopsticks into Mina’s mouth as she happily chewed while bouncing, “The guys were wanting to come over later tonight,” Jungkook had been rambling about his day, “And since you don’t have class or work in the morning you could join us tonight…”

He wiggled his brows a little making you snort as you wiped off Mina’s mouth, “And watch you guys play Overwater? Pass.” He let out a whiny sigh as he slumped in his seat, looking an awful lot like Mina. You had already met Jungkook’s friends a plentiful of times before with everything that had happened and you got along with them great! But still...gaming night was a boys night.

“You could play with us,” Jungkook was quick to try and persuade you as you began eating, Mina playing with the leftover sauce on her plate as she kicked her legs, “You know how to play!”

You couldn’t stop the endearing smile on your face as you clacked your tongue, “Against you and all of them? No thanks.” It was true, Jungkook actually showed you the ropes but you weren’t a great player, you wouldn’t even dub yourself a good player. It was still fun but with all of his friends? Even harder pass.

Jungkook’s bottom lip jutted into a pout, his voice getting that tone he always had when he wasn’t getting his way, “We’ll be on the same team! It’ll be a lot of fun!” No matter how cute he looked he was just going to have to accept your answer.

You shook your head before letting out a laugh at his kicked puppy expression, standing up you cleaned off Mina’s fingers that had been covered in sauce and of course, her face was messy as well, though cute. Helping her out of her booster chair you glanced at Jungkook’s sulky expression, “...I guess I can stay, but don’t expect me to play.”

Jungkook practically flew out of his chair, hands cupping your cheeks as he rapidly pressed short little kisses on your lips, “Thank you baby.” You tried to push him away with a laugh but he wouldn’t relent as he pressed one last peck against your lips. It was just as well because Mina had wedged herself between both your and Jungkook’s legs, gurgles escaping her louder than normal as if to draw both of your attention to her.

“I know Mina,” You sighed as your lips tugged into a pout, as you leaned down and scooped her into your arms, “Boys are gross.” Jungkook laughed as he pressed kisses against Mina’s cheeks. She seemed to disagree as she happily bounced against your side, practically relishing in Jungkook and your attention both. Talk about a diva! Her expression made you smile as you tutted, brushing the strands of hair from her face. She really was just too cute for her own good.

The night had settled in and boys...well boys will be boys. It was cute seeing all of them huddled in the living room, you had even helped Jungkook prepare for their game night by setting out soju and various bags of chips and dip for them. You stayed on the floor for the first hour and a half, conversing with those who weren’t playing while coloring with Mina, who had been hyper focused on her picture before ever so often demanding Jungkook’s attention.

“I don’t know…” Jimin whined, sitting upside down on the couch, his hair flopped, nearly touching the ground which Mina took liberty in grabbing a fist full of happily while yanking it making Jimin yelp.

You could hear Seokjin and Yoongi smuggly snickering at him rubbing his scalp as he tugged his hair from Mina’s grip as you felt a laugh bubbling against your lip as well. Sitting on the floor upright, his plump lips twisting into a pout as he squished Mina’s cheeks, “That’s not very nice!”

Mina only giggled as she clapped her hands, ignoring his chastising arounds as you smiled, gently combing her soft hair from her eyes, “I think you should give her a chance, I know you bachelor's love your freedom,” You paused as you squinted to Yoongi who pretended he wasn’t listening as he watched Jungkook and Taehyung shout in desperation at the screen, “But even if you get a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean you have to settle right away. Relationships can be very rewarding. Right Jungkook?”

You snorted at Jungkook’s head perking a little at his name despite his eyes wide and his long fingers mashing the buttons on his controller, “Yes baby!” He growled the end of his word as his brows scrunched together, “Taehyung what the fuck!” Obviously dying he dropped his controller as he began to argue with his friend. Clearly not even fully listening to what you had said to begin with.

“Language! We have little ears!” Jungkook didn’t even acknowledge your scowl as he was preoccupied with arguing with Taehyung, sighing you couldn’t help but feel a smile tug on your face before glancing back at Jimin who shifted in his spot before groaning. Mina promptly crawled into his lap while bouncing, her signal for wanting to be bounced and thrown up in the air to be caught- Jimin’s speciality.

“Yeah but I’m not like Mr Romantic over there,” Jimin slumped against the foot of the couch, letting Mina tug at his hands as she furrowed her little brows in impatience, “I’ve never been interested in relationships. Besides, she probably doesn’t even care anyways.”

You could never mistake the mutter in his voice, his eyes brewing as if in some internal battle as you sighed, “You’ll never know if you don’t ask. That’s all I’m saying.” Jungkook’s friends were an interesting bunch, some married, others with kids. And of course the two bachelors Jimin and Yoongi.

The boys continued to rotate on who played Overwatch with one another and once they thought it was a good idea to bring the spare TV out and hook up an extra console you felt lost. Sighing as you grimaced while watching Taehyung and Seokjin look like two little boys with a new toy.

“Someone's definitely tired.” Jungkook leaned over on the couch, a soft smile on his face as you tilted your head before glancing down. Unable to stop your own smile, you hadn’t realized Mina was passed out on your lap, it was nearing eight o’clock and it was generally around her bedtime regardless.

“She had a busy day, you know she tries to kick other kids away from me anytime they ask for help?” A smile quirked on your lips as you and Jungkook both laughed. Letting out a sigh of contentment you curled up against Jungkook’s warm body, his controller still in hand as Jimin sat down on the couch on the other side of you as they resumed playing.

By the time it was nine o’clock though Mina was passed out on your lap and you were

admittedly getting tired yourself, “Hey, I’m gonna go lay down with Mina.” Jungkook barely nodded in your direction, his eyes still focused on the screen and his nose scrunched as he smashed buttons on the controller. It was still cute the way he leaned his cheek close to you as you softly pecked against it before shifting Mina in your arms as you bid the rest of the boys goodnight.

Trudging down the hallway softly you yawned as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room, gently closing it before setting her little figure down on the bed. You supposed if you were spending the night Jungkook would survive sharing his clothes given you hadn’t come prepared. Digging through his shirt draw you pulled out an oversized black shirt, this would do. Something you found cute was his love for oversized clothes, always saying he preferred to dress comfortably over fashionably.

Of course if it was big on him it was going to be massive on you, folding up your clothes you set them on the dresser before picking back up Mina, opening the bed covers before setting her down once more and crawling in bed. Mina’s blanket had been wrapped over her shoulder and she immediately curled in closer to you, letting out a cooed gurgle as her tiny fist tugged against Jungkook’s shirt you wore.

Letting out a tiny laugh you gently combed through her fine hair, god what did you do to deserve two beautiful, sweet people? The idea was scary at first, possibly becoming a mom to Mina, but after you had gotten over the initial fear you loved her more than anything in the world. You could only hope to live up to being the mom Mina deserved to have. Sleepily you turned out the lights before resting your hand against her little back, letting your eyes close before drifting off to sleep.

…

Groaning softly you shifted against the soft bed, the room was still dark and rain could be heard trickling gently against the rooftop. Reaching out for Mina’s missing figure you only found the hard surface of a chest instead, arms wrapped securely around you as you snuggled in close. Jungkook. He must have finally gone to bed, what time was it? “...Mmm Kook, Kook where’s Mina.” Your sleepy figure suddenly became a little more awake at the realization Mina was no longer with you.

Jungkook groaned a little, shifting against you as he pressed his nose into your neck, “Crib, didn’t want too at first, you both looked cute together.” His voice was deep and drowsy, still half asleep as he relaxed back into your body, “Some of the guys stayed over by the way.”

You shifted around to face him making a whine escape his lips, he had been spooning you before and was now forced to shift his own position a little so you could let your leg wrap over his hip and bury into his chest, “Mkay.” You yawned as you let your eyes drop closed again.

What a perfect way to wake up...and fall back asleep. Jungkook smelt like cinnamon and vanilla, the most generic lotion out there but you wouldn’t deny how soft his skin was because he loved to be ‘well moisturized’. He was constantly warm too, like a little miniature furnace that was perfect to cuddle when nights got too chilly, and of course he was strong, a lot of days he was smug in his showcase of it when he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The memory made you smile against his skin, you had been shouting while laughing for him to put you down but it ended up upsetting Mina, making her think something was going on between you both that wasn’t good.

You both ended up stopping just to sit down and coddle her, except she pushed her little hands against Jungkook’s shin, as if that was supposed to tell him off before waddling over to you, collapsing against your shoulder while hugging you. Jungkook looked so offended at her while you bursted out laughing.

Curling your arms around him you wiggled in closer, as many memories surrounded your mind. A low, raspy moan made you jump, pulling you out of your thoughts as a large hand suddenly grabbed your hip, “Am I supposed to ignore you doing that or…?” Jungkook mumbled against your skin making you furrow your brows, what…?

That’s when you felt it, the thick hardened length that rubbed against your inner thigh in need, this time making you jump even harder, mainly because you weren’t expecting...that to be there, “I...I didn’t realize…” You cleared your throat as you mumbled back, already beginning to feel your cheeks flush and your heart rapidly beat in your chest. Morning wood was normal! It was totally normal! It wasn’t like this was the first time you had experienced this, you had slept over at Jungkook’s before.

But he’d usually excuse himself to the shower and...presumably took care of himself. Oftentimes teasing you on if you wanted to join him, which you’d always decline. Today seemed different though, it was the first time you had stayed over this month, and while there was nothing special about this month. It was the first of many where you and Jungkook could simply be together stress free while taking care of Mina.

You jolted once more at the squeeze on your hip, Jungkook's lips parting against your neck making an involuntary whine escape you as his tongue dragged against it’s skin, “And now that you do…? You aren’t gonna make me keep using my hands, right?” You could feel his playful smile against your neck, grabbing your hips to shift them back against his hard on. Your face felt nearly as hot as your body that was flushed with arousal at the way he easily manhandled you.

But something struck you as you let out a breathy laugh, “Maybe, considering there's other people in the house right now…” You weren’t sure you really wanted to attempt this with him with others present, even if they were crashed out in the living room...well with anyone in the house, honestly...You were...rather loud in bed with the right people, and given you were wet just because Jungkook manhandled you slightly? You had a feeling he wasn’t just the right person but an amazing person, you didn’t want to subject anyone to that.

Jungkook groaned against your neck, his hips lazily grinding in your thigh making his cock rub along your warm skin as you bit against your lip, he was such a tease! “If we’re quiet it’ll be fine.” He was acting like this wouldn’t be your first time together!

You felt your face getting hotter by the second, “...I’m not exactly quiet..” You didn’t really want to openly admit that, but Jungkook needed to understand this wasn’t going to work. You weren’t opposed to helping him out. But you’d prefer to wait for yourself, you didn’t exactly trust yourself to ‘be quiet’.

“Oh really?” Now Jungkook was really horny, you could tell by his voice becoming huskier, his hands squeezing at your hips making you whine softly against his chest as he placed them against his, his thick imprint rubbing against your dampened panties, “Do tell.”

It was hard to stand your ground when he was practically dry humping you, his throbbing length rubbing so close to your clit it made your hands curl against his shoulders and your brows pressed together as stuttered, “Y-yeah, I...mmph! I moan a lot.” Your body felt like an inferno at your confession and your expression became meeker by the moment as you pressed your forehead against his chest, too embarrassed to even look at him.

You could hear his soft moan at your words though, your panties sticking to your wet folds and you were positive if he kept rubbing against you like this they’d be soaked soon, “Mmm why? What makes you moan hm? What makes that little cunt wet?”

You practically squeaked against him at the seeking thrust of his hips, his swollen imprint pressing into your clit with enough friction to make your hips buck back against his, “Mm! A-ah, Jungkook…!” You whined quietly against him at the way he grabbed your hips, roughly grinding his hips against yours as his cock rubbed harshly into your clit, your panties soaked and your fingers fumbling to find his hair in need.

A loud gurgled cry was all it took before the sexual tension and the way you both grinded each other like high schoolers was gone. Fumbling in bed you both sat up as Mina’s muffled cries became louder, “She probably needs a diaper change,” You murmured as you glanced at the clock, it was five AM but still a little too early for her to be up and toddling about.

Jungkook groaned as he flopped back in bed, looking mildly frustrated making you laugh. Your hands were a little shaky at the sight of the wet patch on his crotch from where you both grinded one another, “Don’t mind me and my hand over here.” He waved you off as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

Standing up you made your way for the door, “Jungkook don’t be dramatic, we’ll have sex eventually.” It was easy to say that when you were turned away from him and leaving the room where you didn’t have to see his messy daunting figure.

You could hear him groan as you laughed making him call out with a whine, “You make that sound a lot longer away then necessary.” You closed the door as you shook your head. It was going to happen, when the time was right. You didn’t know when that was but you weren’t going to rush it. It was fine.

Walking into Mina’s room she was standing up with fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she bounced at the sight of you. Reaching down you checked her diaper as you sighed, completely full, no wonder she was practically screeching, you thought it was odd that she didn’t need a change before you took her to bed.

Picking her up you pressed a kiss against her forehead before laying her down to change her diaper. Throwing the old one away in the trashcan before pulling her nighty back down, “Poor baby, I know it was gross. But it’s all better now baby.” You bounced her on your hip. The problem was getting her to go back to sleep. She was practically stuck to you like a koala now and refusing to let go.

Swaying your body you nuzzled her gently as you soothingly rubbed her back, getting her to calm down a little after ten minutes, reluctantly she let you go as you set her back down in her crib, her big doe eyes- the same as Jungkooks- looking back up at you as she whined. Chuckling you picked her stuffed bear from the ground before giving it to her. As if indignant she snatched it before coddling it against her as you gave her one last forehead kiss, she’d be up again in two hours, she’d survive.

Gently closing the door to Jungkook's room you turned around as your lips parted before scoffing, “You couldn’t wait ten minutes?” You curved a brow, feeling somewhat amused at the tissues in Jungkook’s hand, looking a little guilty before trying to casually play it off as he shrugged. But you weren’t dumb, he didn’t have a boner anymore, there were tissues in his hand and there was not a bottle of lotion on the nightstand before you left this room.

“I’m not a patient guy,” Jungkook turned and tossed the tissue in the trashcan before turning around, looking a little more predatorily making you leer a little as you crawled back into bed, “Y’know…you never did answer my question…” You raised a brow at him before yelping as he suddenly lunged back onto the bed, crawling on top of you as you squirmed, “What makes you moan?” Jungkook eagerly asked as you began laughing beneath him trying to push him off of you.

“Jungkook!” “I need to know if I’m going to make you cum until you pass out!” “Jungkook!”

You both were laughing now as he nudged the crook of your neck with his nose, rubbing it roughly as he growled playfully against your neck, “Entertain me baby, you love to dodge my questions whenever we’re texting.” It was the truth, Jungkook was...inquisitive about everything revolving around what you liked sexually. Did you like it slow? Rough? Were there any kinks you were into, did you prefer it vanilla? He wanted to know everything. But more times then less you’d usually find a way to curve his questions leaving him frustrated and wondering.

You knew most of what Jungkook was into by now, you knew he enjoyed being in control and dominating, you knew he had a thing for doggystyle and really liked spanking, he liked all kinds of things and he had zero problems letting you know that, but he was just as in the dark about what you liked as when you first started dating.

It wasn’t that you were playing hard to get, you were just simply shy and embarrassed, you didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, and the few people you were with you didn’t exactly experiment a lot with either. Sex, just wasn’t something you were used to talking about. Sometimes you felt stupid because of how giddy you got when Jungkook would bring up sex, as if it wasn’t something you had engaged in before, but you couldn’t help it, he excited you so much, he may not have known it but he frustarted you more then you ever did him.

“Come on, it’s not like either of us are going back to sleep,” Jungkook nipped against your neck making you jump as you whined, “You know how fucking insane you drive me? I can’t even properly masturbate without thinking about if it’s something you’d be into?”

You couldn’t stop the snort escaping you as you began to laugh, “Be into you masturbating?” “That’s not what I meant!” “Because I’m cool with it, I mean I masturbate too.”

“You do?” Jungkook pulled away from you to look at you, his expression so serious it really was cute, but his words made you groan as you covered your face, “You masturbate? To me right? Please say me or else I’m gonna lose my shit.”

You threw your hands up as you scoffed, “Of course I masturbate! It’s normal and healthy, I do have a libido! You know women have needs just like men.” What kind of question was that? You knew you were coy but did this man, who you called your boyfriend for four months, seriously assumed you just never got yourself off? What!?

“Oh you do?” Jungkook smirked as he jabbed your stomach playfully making you whine, “Wait- you didn’t answer my question, do you watch porn? What about toys? I’m not opposed to-”

“Jungkook!” You would melt into this goddamn bed if it got you out of this conversation, you weren’t even sure what it was, you trusted Jungkook wholeheartedly, this was bound to happen and being open and communicative with your partner was a good thing to have when it came to sexual preferences.

“What?” Jungkook whined as he dragged out the word, “You’ve given me nothing to work with, how am I supposed to be able to satisfy you if I don’t know what you like? Are you asexual…?” His eyes widened as if realizing that was a possibility, suddenly clearing his throat as he looked a little nervous, “Because that’s totally cool…! I don’t mind and I didn’t mean to-”

“Jungkook,” You cut him off as you pressed your hands to your face, “No I’m not asexual...I’m just...embarrassed.” You refused to look at him now, feeling your face become hot again as you forced yourself to swallow, “I already told you I haven’t been with a lot of people and….If I don’t know what I like how am I supposed to tell you that?”

Jungkook’s fingers soothingly ran through your hair, his expression soft as you finally looked back up at him timidly, the pads of his fingers tenderly rubbing against your scalp as a small smile curved on his lips, “Is that really been what’s troubling you this whole time?” You felt even more embarrassed now, “Come on, c’mere.” Jungkook sat down on the bed, holding on his arms for you.

A little unsure at first you hesitantly scooted over, only to whine as he pulled you into his lap as he leaned against the headboard, “You could have just told me that,” He chuckled against your hair before pressing a kiss against it, you brooded a little as you curled against him making him laugh again, “But it’s not like you’re a virgin, who cares if you haven’t been with a lot of people, I’m sure there’s somethings you like.”

You knew he was coaxing you now, a little more gently, as if not wanting to invalidate you just because you hadn’t been with a lot of people, shuffling in his grip to get more comfortable you let your head rest against his chest, “Well…” You nibbled against your lip, a sudden urge to giggle at the feeling of him holding his breath in anticipation, “...I like being bossed around...and manhandled.”

There it was, that giddy, girlish smile you kept trying to fight off as Jungkook continued to comb through your hair with his fingers granted his smirk that pressed against your head didn’t surpass you, “Okay, so you like being thrown around huh?” The way he said those words so casually made you swallow as you squeezed your thighs together, “Guess it’s a good thing I like manhandling things, right?” He purred against your ear making whine as you rubbed your face, he was turning you on again.

“...You know I think it would just be easier if you asked questions…” You mumbled against his skin as you felt your face flare up, you were at a loss of what to continue with. You were sure on any other occasion you could think up multiple things to say, but being in Jungkook’s lap right now was really messing with your head.

But you also knew Jungkook would jump on that opportunity at the speed of light, “Slow or rough?” You almost snorted at how fast he began his questioning.

“Both, I don’t mind either.” You snickered a little at the way he seemed so excited all of a sudden, Jungkook may have been a sweetheart but he seemed to thrive on having an active sex life. This poor man was probably dying to get his hands on you, literally.

“Sub or switch?” It felt like you were playing twenty questions now but Jungkook’s odd short clipped questions made it feel like you could be talking about anything other then sex, maybe that’s why he chose to approach it like this.

Bashful you sighed as you rolled your eyes, pushing away from him as you gave him a look, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips as he raised his brows, already knowing the answer that wasn’t hard to guess, “What if I told you I was into pegging?” You asked incredulously.

“Then I’d say let’s buy a strap and lube.” Jungkook replied, placing a hand on his chest as you snorted, covering your mouth that twisted into a smile as you began laughing, Jungkook joining you as you shook your head. He was certainly dedicated to you and you could appreciate that.

“Petnames? What about title kinks?” Jungkook decided to drop the last question, given your answer both of you knew what it was going to be, he just really loved watching you squirm.

You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping you as you covered your face, “Literally any petname, no title kinks.”

“What about positions?” Jungkook continued as he scooted a little closer, his eyes appeared a little dilated and lidded as he licked his lips, as if wanting a clear visual of your answer.

“Are you hoping I’ll say doggy?” You leered away a little, your eyes squinting into a playful glare and your lips threatening to twist into a smile once more.

Jungkook chuckled as he licked his lips again while leaning in, “Maybe, I still think you’d look out with your ass in my face and shoved against the bed being made to take it,” Your lips suddenly quivered and it was like your cunt was suddenly becoming flooded with arousal again, “You like that though, right? Getting pushed around,” A whine escaped you as Jungkook shoved you down against the bed, grabbing your arms that weakly attempted to push him as he pinned them above your head, “I think doggy would be perfect, I could play with that needy little clit while stuffing you full of cock, you wouldn’t even have to do anything baby,” Jungkook cooed as he sucked against your neck making you whine, your thighs were weak as your legs wrapped around his waist, “You could just lay there and whine like a good little girl and take it while I kept your hips up. What about a size kink? You like being told how little that fucking cunt would be taking my cock.”

Jungkook rubbed against you, his half hardened cock on display as if showing you. A whine escaped you again as you wiggled against him, his grip on your wrists tightening making your walls clench around nothing and arousal drip from your folds, “Definitely a size kink.” You whimpered pathetically making him laugh against your skin, suddenly letting go of you making you whine indignantly, was he really going to tease you like that and not doing anything about it?

Lovingly stroking your cheek with his hand he offered you a playful bunny smile, “Good news baby, we have plenty of time to explore.” He offered you a wink making you scowl as you looked away, rolling over so you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. How rude of him to work you up then leave you high and dry. A loud smack rang out and a yelp escaping you as his hand landed a blow on your exposed ass making you jump, “C’mon, lets go make breakfast.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Note: Blue Sping is coming to an end!! What a sweet journey! I know I said this lil mini series would only be four parts but with the way the scenes in the Oneshot went it’ll be better off as five! So that being said next weeks update will be the last! 🖤🖤🖤

[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Best is Yet to Come

Short story here.  I’m so sorry for this ;).  This idea just came to me and, well...  

As usual, I own no one except Drake and his crew.  I also do not own the song listed here.  Consider this Magnificent Scoundrels “cannon” if you want, or discard it if you want.

The harsh glare of the Apocalypse’s hagar lighting beat down on technicians fixing shuttles and weapons, and mercenary armsmen taking target practice.  In the bright white wash, a group of men stood, wearing a strange assortment of vastly different clothing.  They were here to talk about battle plans, refueling stations, and the intricacies of galactic politics, but… the conversation had taken another turn.  One that five of the six individuals really wanted to avoid.  Unfortunately, they would have to suffer through it for a few moments more, or at least until Drake was finished getting his kicks.  

“Wait, wait, wait.”  Drake’s face was plastered with a grin that threatened to split it in half beneath his carefully groomed black hair and shining blue eyes.  He made a few half choked laughs before he pulled himself together with an effort.  “So, I knew, but never really put this together until now.  It’s pretty funny actually,” he wheezed.

“No it’s not,” replied a scowling Solo.  His companions’ faces were a mixture of beet red faces and death glares, with one completely neutral iron mask slamming into place for the discussion at hand.  

“Oh yes it is!” laughed Drake, losing control for a moment and doubling over.  He straightened out, and gave a smirk that threatened to turn into belly-busting laughter any moment.  “You guys are so far out of your league it isn’t even funny.  Except it is.  Really.”  He pointed to each in turn.  “You, Shepard,” this was addressed to a scowling man in a black hoodie emblazoned with the red numerals ‘N7’, “Are in love with the daughter of an admiral of one of the most powerful fleets in existence in your galaxy, who is one of five oligarcal leaders of her race, and, what’s more, she already is will most likely continue to be one of the most powerful and influential Quarians in existence!”  He wheeled on each of his companions in turn.

“You, Admiral Vir,” this was to a beet red man in a brown leather coat.  A mop of blond hair covered a black eyepatch and one good green eye.  “Are in love with the oh-so mighty and powerful Saint of Anin, the leader of her race, the daughter of two of the most powerful Drev generals in their history!”  

“You, oh Captain Solo,”  a brown haired, brown jacketed man with knee length boots glowered at Drake, “Are absolutely infatuated with brother of the last Jedi, the daughter of the Queen of Naboo, the daughter of Darth frickin’ Vader, and the true leader of the New Republic.”

“You, Mister Quill, love the daughter of the ex-most powerful being in your galaxy, one who erased half of life in your universe, and who is, by the way, the singularly most deadly assassin I’ve ever known.”  Another brown haired man, with slight sideburns and an ankle length reddish-brown coat, stared at Drake, emotions flashing across his face.  Drake grinned again and turned to the last man.

“And you, Commissar Cain, love an Inquisitor!”  Impassive eyes, framed below a black officer’s cap, stared back at Drake.  Drake clapped his hands and hooted with laughter.  A black gloved hand wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.  “Oh, you are all so, so out of your leagues.  Tell me, how did you get ‘em?  Couldn’t have been your looks,” he teased.  Shepard rolled his eyes as his other companions shook their heads.  A wicked, conspiratorial look crossed Drake’s face.  

“As a matter of fact…” he started.  He looked over to two nearby armsman speaking with a weapon specialist and gave a whistle.  “Oliver!  Saul!  Garang!  Get over here!”  The three Apocalypse crewmen started forward, noting the looks of the group.  Drake smiled knowingly at them.  “Did you overhear our conversation?” he asked.

“Kinda hard not to, Captain,” replied Saul.

“Yeah, well, I have a sudden, wonderful idea,” said Drake.  “I have a wonderful, awful, idea.  I just got a wonderful, awful idea!”  He grinned again at his three crew members.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.  The three looked at him blankly.  He smiled once more and whistled several notes of a song.  The three crewmen grinned manically.  

“Oh, yes,” beamed Oliver.  “I believe I do know what you’re thinking.”  The five Scoundrels, regulated to objects of discussion, looked on hesitantly.  

“What are you thinking, Drake…?” trailed off Vir.  That look wasn’t good.  Drake only cackled maniacally and activated his wrist computer.  An intimately familiar song began playing over the hangar loudspeakers.  At the first few notes, Shepard, Vir, and Quill all buried their faces in their hands or reached out, panicking.  

“Drake-!”  

“Uptown girl!  She’s been living in her uptown world,  I bet she never had a backstreet guy,  I bet her mother never told her why…”  Drake and his three crew slid into formation, dancing along with the music.  Vir buried his head further in his arms as Cain and Solo looked around in shock.  He’d seen this particular song’s music video, and Drake was doing a damn good job imitating it.  

“One of these days I’m going to shoot you, Drake.”

“I’m gonna try for an uptown girl,  She’d been living in her white bread world,  As long as anyone with hot blood can,  And now she’s looking for a downtown man,  That’s what I am!”  The hangar’s other occupants were looking on with bemusement.  A few armsmen even joined in with the singing or dancing.  

“And when she knows what she wants from her type,  And when she wakes up and makes up her mind,”   Quill shrugged and walked over to join Drake.  The other four Scoundrels stared.  

“Well, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“She’ll see I’m not so tough, just because I’m in love with an uptown girl!”  From absolutely nowhere, Cooper slid in line behind Drake, grinning at his slack-jawed comrades.  He’s come at a full running slide, apparently hearing the commotion from wherever he was on the ship.  Bastard.  

“You know I’ve seen her in her uptown world,  She’s getting tired of her high class toys,  And all the presents from her uptown boys,  She’s got a choice!”  Vir sagged his shoulders, defeated, and joined in next to Quill.  Everyone joined in the chorus, apparently most of Drake’s armsmen knowing it by heart.

“Uptown girl!  You know I can’t afford to buy her pearls,  But maybe someday when my ship comes in,  She’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been,  And then I’ll win!”    

From video conference calls and high viewing booths, Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Senator Leia Organa, Gamora, Sunny, and Tali’Zorah vas Normandy watched, some with shocked faces, others with smiles concealed behind hands.  

“What… the hell… are they doing?” asked Vail.  The other woman stared at her.

“I… don’t really know,” replied Gamora.   

“It’s kinda cute, though,” opinioned Tali.  

“And when she’s walking,  She’s looking so fine,”  Drake gave a teasing wolf-whistle and shook his hand as if he had touched something hot.  Cain and Solo just stared as Shepard facepalmed even harder.  Cain was certain he heard a bone crack.  “And when she’s talking,  She’ll say that she’s mine!”  

As time went on and more people joined in, the previously somewhat neat lines devolved into individuals showing off or just plain having fun.  

“Uptown girl!  She’s my uptown girl!  You know I’m in love with an uptown girl!  My uptown girl!  You know I’m in love with an uptown girl!  My uptown girl!  You know I’m in love with an uptown girl!  My uptown girl…” 

Uptown Girl:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCuMWrfXG4E

And there it is.  I did not want to spoil the song, but, like I said in the intro, Billy Joel owns “Uptown Girl,” not me.  (Should be pretty obvious.)  Some explanation for Shepard.  I previously somewhere stated that in the Mass Effect games you are Shepard, and you make a hell of a lot of choices, which makes it a bitch to write.  I did also say that I would have Shepard fall in love with an alien, though I couldn’t decide which.  However, I just realized that Tali is the only male Shepard love interest on the Normandy at the time I incorporated Mass Effect into Magnificent Scoundrels, so it could only be her without a lot more annoyances on my part.  I hope you liked it and if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or requests, feel free to ask me!

[writing-gifts]

here’s the 6th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

im gonna start posting this on ao3 too (with some editing in the earlier chapters so you can check that out if you wanna)

list of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

--------

“OW! What the hell--why’d you bite me so hard for!?”

You try to move your leg but Mutton blocks your way. Letting out a sigh, you stand in place and look down at the cat.

“What? What is the problem?”

He moves behind you and presses his head against the back of your calf hard enough to affect your balance. When you move your leg forward to stop yourself from falling, Mutton walks towards the door.

“Do you want me to let you out? But you just got here.”

The cat looks at you for a moment before placing his front paws on the door and stretching upward towards the knob.

Shaking your head, you walk over to the door. “I’m gonna get that cat door for you one day, I swear.”

Once it’s open, Mutton quickly circles your legs and pushes his head against them like before.

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

You walk out and the feline takes a few steps towards the forest ahead before turning to look back. His multicolored eyes stay locked on yours and you purse your lips when you realize what he wants.

“I guess I'm following you….”

After locking and closing the door, you walk after the cat as he continues into the forest. You wonder what exactly he’s so desperate to show you. Was this even normal behavior for cats? You weren't sure but you did know that Mutton was a little more on the intelligent side. Sometimes you even felt like he could even understand you.

So you go along with it, following a distance behind through what seems like endless trees and brush and fanning random insects out of your face. Fortunately, the weather was cool enough that you weren't sweating too.

However, the longer you walk, the more you fear that you might be lost. Trying to find your way back on your own would definitely make it worse though.

Just when you think you need to take a break, a body of water appears in the distance through the opening of the trees. When you and Mutton finally exit the packed foliage, you see that you’ve been led to a lake sitting in a giant clearing in the forest.

You stare a bit amazed at the size and notice a cabin near it a distance away. Mutton doesn't stop long to let you marvel at the scene though and continues towards the lake. You catch up to him and the both of you walk alongside the water.

“So do you know the person in the cabin?” You assume that’s where you're headed.

You didn’t expect a response, but Mutton merps to acknowledge you. You hum and your gaze quickly finds itself back on the lake. It was vast, going on so far you could barely see where it ended. The sky and trees reflect on its surface clearly and the water’s so still you almost feel like you can jump into the clouds if you want to.

Once the two of you are closer, you see that the brick and wood cabin was partially sitting on the grassy land behind it and partially on the water. You had also underestimated the size. Perhaps more than one person lived here?

Mutton leads you around the side of the house and stops to sit next to the front door. He looks up at you expectedly so you reach out to knock.

Several seconds pass before you hear the door being unlocked and when it opens, a handsome man with a neat, dark bob is revealed.

Unsure of what to do, you give a quick greeting and go quiet afterward. You didn't plan what to say when the door was answered, you just knew Mutton wanted you to knock.

Said cat walks into view, rubbing against the man’s leg as he walks into the house.

At that moment, realization seems to cross the man's face and he smiles at you.

“You must be the neighbor,” he says.

“Neighbor?”

“The person who lives in the house outside the forest. I saw someone moved in but never came around to introduce myself.”

"Oh, I had no idea anyone lived out here."

"That’s pretty much the reason why I’m out here.” The man moves to make room so you can walk inside. “Would you like to come in?"

You're a little hesitant since you just met but Mutton had no issue with it apparently. And the cat had actively been prepared to attack Diavolo for you on multiple occasions.

The moment you pass the threshold, you’re instantly awed. When you thought of cabins, simple and small came to mind. This one was neatly organized but it didn't give the homely vibe you’d expect.

The monochromatic room was spacious and decorated with nice looking furniture and curtains. The living area consisted of a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking couches, and the stone wall above it held shelves that were crammed full of old looking books, various expensive looking decor and bottles. And to the right, closer to the back of the room sat a sizable dining set.

However what mostly grabs your eye is the fish tanks that were embedded in the walls throughout the room. At first you wonder why he had so many, but when you look closer you realize that they were not, in fact, separate tanks but a giant aquarium partially hidden within the walls.

Was the whole house like this? What type of cabin was this?

While you wonder where all the fish are, something twinkles in the corner of your eye. You turn to see what it is, but there’s nothing there.

So I'm imagining things now...

“--drink?”

You turn your attention to the man. "Sorry what was that?"

“I asked if you wanted anything to drink?”

You cross your arms and shake your head. “No I’m good…so do you know why Mutton led me here?”

The cat currently sits on the top of the back of one of the white couches.

“I actually needed to discuss something important with you, but I should introduce myself first. I'm Bruno Bucciarati--you can refer to me as either--and I'm a witch.”

You’re immediately skeptical. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, but you couldn't just believe whatever anyone told you. Bruno doesn’t look bothered by your dubiousness though.

“You're smart enough to not trust blindly. That’s good.” The man puts a finger to his chin. “You have a leaf on your shoulder.”

Before you can reach up to brush it off the man plucks it off you. Then just as quickly as he picked it off, the small green leaf begins to glow and transforms into a full flower.

You stare shocked trying to find any way to explain what you just saw. It was no trick of the eye either as the leaf’s form changed right before you into a completely different thing.

The man--no witch holds out the white rose and you gently take it.

“I--wow I just keep running into supernatural beings or something.”

"This forest does seem to attract them," he says.

Interesting…

You roll the flower stem between your fingers. “I’m ____ by the way.Uh, I don't know if you call him Mutton too--" You tilt your head in the direction of the feline. “--but is he your familiar or something?”

“No, he’s just a cat that likes to wander the forest. However, my familiar's over there though if you’re interested."

You get closer to the tank the witch pointed out to observe and even though you weren't exactly showing it, you were actually really excited and interested by the fact that you just met a witch.

At first you don't see anything in the huge tank other than greenery and a rocky cave ornament in the corner. But then something pops its head out of the opening. An eel that also managed to match the color scheme of the room. It was mostly white and covered in black patterns with yellow sprinkled in. It comes out of its hiding spot and swims back and forth as if it were stretching out it’s long body. Then it turns to you when it realizes that you're intently watching through the glass.

Your smile at it’s somewhat funny face and tilt your head a bit. The eel responds by tilting its own head, as if curious by your action.

"Holy crap. This is actually pretty cool! Do they talk?" you ask.

“Not really.” Bruno's smile falters. “But surprisingly Mutton does.”

“Huh?” You snicker a bit thinking the witch is joking but see that there’s no sign that he is on his face.

You look over at the cat and he stares back unblinking before glancing at Bruno.

"....I thought we weren't going to tell them."

Your heart almost jumps into your throat. “W-What?”

Bruno hums. “I thought about it and decided there's no point keeping it secret any longer. The incubus already knows. So it would only be a matter of time before he said something."

You're still reeling from Mutton talking that you almost missed what Bruno said.

“Hold on...Wait. Incubus? Are you talking about Doppio?” you ask the witch.

“Yes.”

You squint confused. “He knew and he didn't say anything? How long ago did he find out?"

"About a week," Mutton says.

"It might have benefited him in some way but I'm not sure why he didn't say anything," Bruno adds.

You exhale, somehow already on the verge of irritation with...everyone. Doppio was usually open with you, but apparently he thought this was a good thing not to mention.

You stare at Mutton who looks at you like he usually did, as if this weren’t an issue. But that was far from the case for you. It wasn't explicitly said but you were sure he told Bruno things about you, and it left you disturbed.

“...Well is there anything else I should know about Mutton?”

"Well his name's not actually Mutton," Bruno says.

"It's Leone Abbacchio, but you can call me Abbacchio."

You grimace from the human sounding voice coming from the cat you had been cuddling practically since...since you moved here!

“Okay Abbacchio, I don't really want you snooping around my house anymore--

“That can be arranged,” Bruno interrupts. “Once we ‘exorcise’ that demon constantly visiting you.”

Your already furrowed brow deepens. Doppio wasn't possessing anything though. You weren't even sure he was capable of that.

“No, I don't want that!”

"Listen, it might seem like Doppio is harmless, but things can become dangerous if he grows too serious of an attachment to you. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t need to hurt him if he leaves quietly."

You weren't exactly sure what the witch meant by "dangerous" but his serious tone managed to spark some anxiety within you.

"I mean it would be natural for Doppio to get upset if I suddenly wanted him gone."

"He's not just talking about being upset." Abbacchio says, annoyance in his tone. "Doppio could literally keep you against your will if he wanted and there would be no way for Bruno to reverse it."

"All demons are naturally envious creatures and the way things are going between you two, it’s only a matter of time. And this doesn't even take into account the other demon." Bruno says.

Diavolo aside, you couldn't bring yourself to see Doppio in that light.

"But--"

The front door slams open and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

Doppio stomps in, his face flushed. Once he sees you he seems to relax slightly but his expression is still irate.

“I finally found you!” he exclaims.

Bruno raises a brow and turns to Abbacchio.

The cat's ears fold back in frustration. "I was sure I lost him."

The incubus walks up to you, stopping too close and grabbing your shoulders harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Doppio you're gripping me too tightly.” You push off his hands and wrap your arms around yourself to shield your body from the sudden chill that seemed to appear. “I’m fine….But they're talking about you being able to keep me? What does that exactly mean?”

You wanted to hear an explanation from the incubus himself. You trusted him not to lie to your face if you asked him straight on.

However, Doppio reacts strangely, as if he's afraid. He makes some space between the two of you and struggles to look at you. You try to catch his gaze again but he refuses to keep eye contact.

"It's…" He strains his fingers. "Well, you see, incubi and succubi can form a….c-connection with a weaker being if they’re close enough. Then they could technically stay together forever."

Abbacchio grunts, "Way to sugar coat it--"

“I wouldn’t do that to you though ____! I didn't even consider it! U-Unless you wanted to it would never happen and I know that you like your space…”

The incubus is the most stressed you've seen him.

Even though you were still upset you didn't like seeing him like this, so in an attempt to ease him, you try to smile. Unfortunately, it comes off pretty strained.

You take a moment to mull over what he said though and come to a conclusion pretty quickly. "Even though that was kind of vague...I think I understand. And honestly, I can't see you forcing me into that."

You'd never seen a cat roll their eyes until now.

"Typical human. They're a lost cause Bruno. Let's leave them to do what they want," Abbacchio says before stretching and laying down.

The witch looks disapprovingly at the cat. "You know I can't do that. Perhaps they actually were charmed. I could--"

"Sir," you say to get his attention. "I appreciate your concern, but I trust Doppio and I'd prefer if you didn't get in between the two of us."

Having to tell your almost neighbor you just met to buzz off even in a polite way wasn't what you were expecting to do today.

Bruno doesn’t look upset though. He's quiet, studying you with an unreadable expression but then he nods.

"I'm having Leone check up on you. If anything seems off I'm getting involved."

Your brows furrow slightly. Didn't you just explicitly say you didn't want Abbacchio snooping around your home anymore?

You want to argue more but the witch didn't leave room in his statement to negotiate. And even though you hate to admit it, keeping the supernatural out of your home wasn't exactly your strong suit. It pissed you off but you couldnt do anything about it. So you give a curt nod and immediately walk to the exit with Doppio following closely behind.

Once outside, you follow the incubus through the forest. There's a long, awkward stretch of silence between you two though.

Doppio tries to sneakily glance at you, which you of course you notice but you choose to ignore it. However, after the 50th one he finally decides to say something.

"____?"

You sigh, "What?"

He slows to a stop to turn and look at you properly but, again, he has trouble keeping eye contact.

"Are you mad?"

Maybe at first but now it had changed to more of a disappointed feeling.

"Not necessarily but you knew about Mutt--Abbacchio and didn't say anything to me. So I'm not exactly happy right now."

"I didn't but--"

You shake your head. "No Doppio. I'm too tired right now to understand whatever weird logic you formed in your head."

His mouth closes and the hurt on his face instantly makes you regret your choice of words. Maybe you shouldn't have said it like that but you really didn't feel like listening to excuses right now.

You look away from Doppio. "Let's just go, please."

[lizacstuff]

i'd love (if you'd like ofc) to hear your thoughts on episode 20 as a whole! i personally really really enjoyed it.. it had some very good moments not only between edser but between serkan and his dad and selin. and of course were serving that angsty, but flirty, UST that we all love! it felt like a weight was lifted off serkan and he just became even more open with her, if that makes sense? what he says to her about leaving in the latest fragman kinda shows that too.

Are you sure you want my full thoughts? Because I'm about to get long winded, like novel long winded, lol. To start off, on a superficial note, can I say that casually dressed, brooding Serkan was pretty hot? Hello, Sailor! Can we see you in pullovers and hoodies and T-shirts more often? But just happier? He was soooo sad in the opening scenes, and honestly, when you think about it, it's pretty dark that he was so messed up that he didn't leave the house or attend to any business matters for those couple of days. Very unlike him, but he's probably never been at this depth of despair before. Now, since pretty much everyone knows he wasn't leaving the house while Eda was gone, I hope someone (cough Melo cough) tells Eda, she should know that. On a similar note, Eda's friendship with the girls is so lovely. They're indeed her family. Interesting juxtaposition that she took refuge with her friends, while Serkan holed up and stayed away from everyone who cares about him. 

I agree that once we got past the dark brooding and he had the talk with his mom about how if Eda was punishing him there was still hope, he was a lot lighter. I think finally being out from under the secret did him a world of good. He can finally stop pretending to be indifferent and can just be honest about how he feels.  What the “Gitme” line in the fragman tells me, is that he’s ready to put it all out there. He’s not going to risk miscommunications or hurt feelings anymore. Which is amazing and should lead to great things in the next couple of episodes.

More under the cut (a lot more):

I absolutely agree about the scenes between Serkan and his dad and Serkan and Selin. The writing was really terrific and Kerem just knocked both of those scenes out of the park. Serkan's suppressed fury was palpable, and it was extremely cathartic to finally watch him let loose on both of them. The scene with his father went deeper in the family trauma and it was so interesting to hear Serkan say outright to both of them that the reason he moved onto the property was because Aydan couldn't leave and his dad was never there, and was never there for him as a father at all. Which we saw from the beginning when Alpteken was actually at the house but refused to attend his son's engagement party. Regardless of the fact that Serkan sprung Eda on them, not walking 50 feet to make an appearance at your son's engagement party is an asshole move. I wonder how long he's been cheating on Aydan? Years? It's interesting how she foreshadowed that revelation to Ayfer, like she knew.

Also I can't believe he was just cavorting around a luxury hotel in Istanbul. The whole Bolat family are obviously figures in the upscale social scene, anyone who knew Aydan or Serkan could have easily spotted him with that woman and gleefully spread the gossip back. Did he want to get caught? Jerkoff.

As for Selin, we been waitin' for that explosion since she sold her shares without telling Serkan!  I like that Serkan was kind to her after Ferit left her at the altar, it spoke to him taking responsibility for the part he played in trying to manipulate her out of that relationship. However, she took advantage of the new, kinder Serkan (the one that exists courtesy of Eda) and went way too far into unstable territory. I, and many other people, were so confused about why Selin was so angry about uncovering the truth of the accident, like what right did she have to be that angry over it, to stomp over to his house, barge in uninvited and accuse him of being a liar at top decibel levels? Thank goodness the writing acknowledged that it was not her place, and that was the thing that enraged Serkan. They actually allowed him to say, "How dare you come to my house, and I don't owe you any explanations." Also, I'm glad he laid out his feelings for Eda, and his lack of feelings for her. Look... that is rough. Hearing from an ex that they never loved you.  But how she could have been in any doubt, after seeing the changes in him since Eda is beyond my comprehension. She even said early on, It's like there's two Serkans, the one before you met Eda, and the one after. For whatever reason it's like she thought Eda could come in and affect him, and then she could step in and get the Serkan who was in love with Eda, not the rigid, cold one who was in a relationship of convenience with her.  DELUSIONAL.

There was so much more about this episode I loved. It was nice to see Ayfer blossoming in her new business and getting a glimpse of Fifi's past. She comes from a society family, does she? I liked that Ferit helped them. I do agree that impressing Ceren was probably on his mind, but I like to think he's also just a nice man and he likes Ayfer and wanted to genuinely help as well. Interesting that we found out that Ferit's mom never liked Selin. Curious since you'd think she'd look great on paper, perhaps it was because of the speed at which they were moving, and I think she also stood them up, right? That made me like Ferit's mom a bit more than I otherwise would have. 

Aydan was in her element getting back to her charity work, I loved the way she plotted to put her name forward for the leadership position. She's just so savvy. That's why I'm glad she's now TeamEda!  Imagine what a formidable duo Eda and Adyan will make in this world, we saw a glimpse of it last week, but they'll be unstoppable! 

The contract was a neat device. I really appreciate how it was used. One of the things that Eda feels like she can't trust is the way Serkan has tried to control her. As I've said before, I think he's really trying to control the situation. And while that doesn't really make a difference to Eda in this instance, it does make a difference to me as a viewer. If he were being controlling in the sense of trying to dictate what she says or who she is, that would be upsetting. But that's not it, he really loves her for who she is already and he's not trying to change that, he's just, as I said, trying to control the situation. We know that he likes to think everything through and always has a plan and in this instance he was just trying to protect her, but she's right that he can't do that in a relationship. Proving to her that he can cede control is important and that's exactly what the contract did. We saw him do it willingly and blindly and it was actually really beautiful. Obviously, the Serkan apology to Erdem was hilarious, but more than how much I enjoyed how funny it was, I enjoyed how delighted Eda was by it. She loved every minute of it and it was so nice to see her relax a minute and genuinely laugh both at and with Serkan. Additionally, I think she was pretty surprised that he'd followed through with it. Lots of layers to that scene.  

The charity meeting he engineered was also pretty fun to watch. I loved how he calls Engin in to join them with no prep and then just expects Engin to reel off a bunch of good ideas for the girls education initiative. Good times. And Leyla rushing in to let him know that Melo had quit was hilarious, I love that Serkan was like "the whole situation is right here" meaning that Eda was in the room so whatever Leyla had to tell him could not possibly be important. Only Eda is important! LOL. Then Serkan doesn't even think before looping Engin in to go immediately hire Melo. You know what I hope this means!? That my crackship Mengin might actually sail!!!!  LET'S DO THIS MENGIN!!!!  Oh... I know, the show seems really committed to the mismatched duo of Engin/Peril, but I really think Engin and Melo are better suited to one another. And now maybe they'll get scenes together. Piril can dump him for being too... him, and Melo can help him pick up the pieces. They would be Serkan and Eda's big-hearted, teddybear couple friends!  

Watching Eda blossom creatively and professionally while working with Serkan has been a joy. She doesn't stand in awe of him at all as a person, but she does a little professionally, and it's wonderful to see how no matter how angry she is with him or where they are in their relationship she always craves his feedback, takes in his critiques and suggestions, and basks in his praise. While she didn't want his help with her schoolwork, I can't help but wonder if he ever comes up at school. I mean she's in the tabloids with him, and since he's extremely relevant to the field of study, and specifically to that school since he built the library, do her classmates ask her about him? Or does she mention something she did or learned working at ArtLife while in class? Inquiring minds want to know.

As for Eda's resolve to keep things professional, that pretty much was DOA. She definitely challenged him to break the contract there in that room, and I think she actually wanted him to do it, though I’m not sure how she would have reacted. she wants him, but she wasn’t there yet. She knows resistance is futile, deep down she recognizes her own feelings and his and knows they'll never stay away from one another and it's only a matter-of-time, but I think she needs this. She needs for him to understand what it means to be in a relationship, she needs him to know that he can't make decisions without her, and she needs to be sure he's ready to be a partner. Thankfully, he made a lot of headway in demonstrating all of those things in this episode. He signed without reading, he was willing to do anything and everything she asked, and while he's still him (asking Leyla for intel) he respected her wishes while still being there for her in a real way throughout the episode.  

Poor Eda fainting, but it's really romantic that he's always there to catch her. I assume this narcolepsy or whatever it is, like her claustrophobia, is related to the trauma around the retaining wall collapse and her parents' death. It was sweet the way he convinced her to let him be there when she met the contractor, and then during the confrontation he didn't intervene, he let Eda say what she needed to say and was there to move the guy along when it was time. He was pretty much perfect. I know we all NEEDED him to hug her, both Eda and Serkan NEEDED it as well, but she wasn't ready to ask for him yet and he was smart enough not to push it. But the loooooooooonging. 

It's a small detail that she asked him to deal with the paps and he went home and set about doing just that. Hopefully whatever he was doing will lead to the revelation that Selin is the one who planted the story in the first place. I need that, we all need that. And just when you think it's too late at night, he does their "thing" and shows up at her place with Sirius. So dang sweet. I like that he was respecting her pretense about colleagues while at the same time just outright saying, "I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

The next day's car ride left me in a puddle. Serkan just out there telling her that he would do anything for her. But he didn't push it on her, he waited until she asked. He did a great job of pacing himself through the episode. I find it so romantic that she told him that he couldn't watch her speech. If they were together and settled and happy, I'd think she'd want him front row, center, but in their current state he just affects her too much. She'd be focused on him, worried about what he thought, distracted by him, he just sends her mind whiring and her pulse racing.

Though, it's pretty telling and super sweet that the first thing she wants to know when he approaches her afterward is what he thought of the speech. Oh, Eda, you're not fooling anyone. His opinion is most important to you, pretty much in all things. This scene gives us something that rarely happens, Engin being tone deaf and not reading the room!! WTF was wrong with him? Interrupting like that? Dude knows that Serkan is in a situation here, you don't interrupt for really no reason like that! Get your head in the game, son! Your his wingman, you help, not hinder!

The way Eda blushed and looked pleased every time he complimented her this episode was something else. She's trying to keep emotional distance, and he's breaking the rules when he does it, but still it makes her day. She's never portrayed as a vain character, at all, so it's just so sweet how his words and his compliments affect her. No one else can make her feel like that. 

Serkan was pretty sly in making his case as well. He gets her a bit mushy telling her she lights up the room and then brings up her speech and how it might apply to him. He was right in that she probably hasn't considered things from his perspective. How devastating it must have been for him to learn the truth. I want her to go back and piece together the timeline. She knew something wasn't right with him at the mall when she gave him the robot. Maybe it will help her deal with this if she realizes he had just learned the secret. She knew there was more to the story with the cut on his hand. Knowing he was so upset he put his hand through a coffee table might give her some perspective on his state of mind and why he acted the way he did.  But mostly I want him to tell her he overheard her conversation with Ceren. I think it's important for them both to confront how things unraveled if only to help prevent future miscommunications. 

Poor Eda having a good time using her powers of persuasion to tease Serkan into helping his mother only to find out that she had convinced him to auction himself off for a dinner date! I enjoyed her momentary discomfort at that. Welcome back, jealousy. Strictly work colleagues do not get jealous when one goes out to dinner with someone else, just saying, Eda.  And that smooth bastard bid on himself so he could go out with her only. We should have known! 

The conversation prior to the runway show was priceless, Eda's animosity and reserve sort of disappear and she's just unsure enough of what she's about to do that his reassurances are exactly what she needs.  And how Kerem Bursin can blush on demand, I don't know, but Serkan be red during that conversation, lol. 

I really loved all of Serkan's reactions as the ladies walked the runway. For Selin he was stone-faced and bored looking, for Fifi he gave a sly smirk as she passed as an acknowledgement of how different, and nice, she looked all cleaned up, Melo got the huge grin, we didn't really see Ceren since the camera was stuck on Ferit, but for Piril he gave her the fond, encouraging smile like he was proud of his friend. And then Eda. I don't even know what word to use for it. Enraptured? Dumsquizzled? Fuckstruck? Yes, let's go with fuckstruck. I'm not sure he remembered to breathe while she was walking, he was so affected by her.  This boy has it bad for this girl, ya'll. 

After that, the end was a punch in the gut. Our poor babies have been through so much, they really deserved to have that nice dinner.  Damn you, Selin! Obviously this was a delaying tactic, because once they sat down to dinner, you know they would have worked it out, so we wait. But the reconciliation is coming, don't you worry. I'm feeling it within the next 2 episodes for sure. 

[timetoresurface]

take you home / JJH

idol!au Jaehyun x Y/N 4k meet cute scenario where you travel solo, and you meet a handsome boy in a random bar // no warnings

optional second part (here) where Y/N reflects on her relationship with Jaehyun.

What was supposed to be a romantic getaway with your so-called soulmate, ended up in a solo soul-searching trip. You had booked an early birthday present for your ex-boyfriend, not knowing he would actually break up with you before you could even tell him you had planned a spectacular gift. Through all your heartbreak  and tears you had forgotten you had a trip on your agenda, but luckily you had your phone to remind you of everything painful. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” “You shouldn’t go. It will only remind you of him.” “You were finally getting over him.” “Just cancel the trip.”

Are a few of the things your friends had said when you told them you were going solo. The past months had indeed been bad, but you were finally leaving it all in the past. This trip could be the start of something new. This fresh start resulted in you helping out in an unknown bar without getting paid. The owner promised you free drinks the moment it would be less busy, but you were already three hours in cleaning tables without an end in sight.

“Y/N can you please check if that table needs more drinks?” The owner of the small establishment pleaded while his hands were trying to fix the cash register. You simply nodded your head and made your way over to the table with rowdy boys. You could tell they didn’t go out much by how they couldn’t take their liquor. 

“Can I get you anything?” You asked them politely while eying their empty drinks. You would rather have them leave so you could finally get your promised free drinks, but they weren’t bad customers.

“Another round please.” A skinny dark haired boy said. You could tell he was a little bit tipsy by his eyes drooping a little bit. Usually, you would find these kind of lightweight people annoying, but this boy made it look charming. 

“Mark, are you sure?” Your eyes moved away from the boy named Mark to the owner of the concerned voice. He seemed to be the only one not even near being tipsy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t having any fun. He was looking at his friend with adoration in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. 

“I actually don’t know what you were drinking. I’m guessing beer?” You asked them innocently while eying their empty beer glasses. The only sober guy at the table laughed while making eye contact with you. He simply nodded his head, but the simple movement stirred something awake in you. Describing him as handsome would be an understatement because he was much more than that. His eyes twinkled in excitement, and his mouth was beautifully formed into a heartwarming smile that could even melt icecaps. His face seemed to be perfectly sculpted by the Gods, and you couldn’t help but to roam your eyes over his almost perfect features. 

“We were drinking Guinness, but I think we should go for something a little less strong.” He smiled, ignoring the fact that you had been not so secretly staring at him. You quickly composed yourself and counted the people around the table. 

“I can work with that.” You simply told them before getting their drinks. You had only been here for a couple of hours, but you knew where everything was and how to work around the confused boss. Not that he was your boss because you technically didn’t work here, but you really wanted your free drinks. 

You had been sitting here alone at the bar with a glass of wine when suddenly a lot of people stormed inside. The owner of the bar hadn’t anticipated a busy Wednesday night and was short on staff. You had heard him calling some people that worked here, but no one was free tonight. Blame it on the glass of wine, or blame it on your loneliness, but you immediately offered to help. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You were pouring the beer into the correct glasses when someone interrupted your flow. It was the same guy you had been staring at not even five minutes ago. 

“Of course. How can I help you?” You smiled at him while closing the tab.

“I can’t seem to find the toilet, do you know where it is?” He asked you innocently, and you almost couldn’t contain yourself to squeal out loud by his adorableness. 

“What if I told you I didn’t know where the toilet was?” You asked him teasingly, but you weren’t lying. You actually didn’t know where the toilet was. 

“I would probably pee my pants.” He confessed with a nervous laugh.

“Well, I actually don’t know where the toilet is, but I suspect down the stairs.” You told him earnestly while pointing at the direction of the stairs. He followed your movement, and noticed the toilet sign. You heard him sigh in relief, and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

“Thank you so much.” He said before making his way down the stairs. 

“It was no problem.” You told him, but he was already out of earshot. You softly smiled at yourself while pouring the remaining drinks before bringing them over to their table.

“I don’t think I can handle more beer.” The boy named Mark, who had ordered more drinks, said. 

“You don’t have to drink beer.” You told him while putting his drink hesitantly before him. 

“But you already poured it so beautifully. It would be a waste and a disgrace to your work.” His shoulders dropped in despair while he admired the glass of beer. 

“I can also make a neat iced tea. You should see me pouring that straight out of the bottle. That would be a waste and disgrace to my work if you didn’t drink it.” You told him seriously. You hadn’t expected him to burst out laughing. You hadn’t expected his laugh to be so contagious, but when the other guy returned everyone at the table was a laughing mess. 

“What happened?”

“Jaehyun, she’s so funny.” Mark slurred his words while gesturing toward you. Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected comment and unwanted attention that suddenly came by his remark. 

“Iced tea?” You asked Mark after a couple of seconds of awkwardness, and he simply nodded his head. You smiled at him while taking away his glass of beer. You heard Mark explaining to the boy named Jaehyun what had happened when he was gone while you were making your way over to the bar again. You took a sip from the unwanted beer before getting a glass for Mark’s iced tea. You actually didn’t lie, this bar does pour cheap bottles of an unknown brand iced tea in fancy glasses. You completed the drink with a slice of lemon before presenting it to Mark.

“Wow!” Was the only thing Mark said when you gave him his drink. “I’m in awe by the perfect ratio of bottled iced tea and lemon. This is a masterpiece.” He completed his train of thoughts before he burst out in laughter. Again, you hadn’t anticipated his reaction, and you had forgotten how contagious his laughter was. The only difference was that you could hear the low laugh of Jaehyun mixed with the others, but his stood out. His laughter could work as a siren call, and you would willingly follow it to the end of the world. 

“I’m glad you enjoy my work.” You said when everyone calmed down a little bit.

“You’re doing a good job.” Mark stated before drinking a large sip of his not so personalized drink. 

“Thank you.” You told them before returning to your spot at the bar. The owner of the bar had finally finished making the register, and you could feel the air of calmness in the bar. Most people seemed to have disappeared to another spot. It was just you, the owner and the rowdy boys. 

“Y/N! Thank you so much for helping. You can have free drinks tonight and tomorrow night.” He told you with a tired smile. 

“It was no problem. I’m happy to help.” You told him, mirroring his expression. You had only worked for a couple of hours, but it was so intense it had drained all the energy out of you. 

“Are you sure you’re not looking for a job?” He asked you.

“I don’t actually live here: otherwise, I would have accepted.” You told him softly while patting his shoulder. You took off your apron before sitting in your spot at the bar.

“It’s a shame.” He said while removing your apron from the bar.

“Can I get a glass of wine?” You asked him nicely.

“You know where it is.” He told you while gesturing toward the fridge filled with wine. He made his way over to you and seated himself next to you. 

“Can I get you anything?” You asked him while you were pouring yourself a glass of wine. You actually didn’t mind because you could take the more expensive one without having to pay for it.

“Red wine. The good one.” He seemed to have had the same idea. Well, it is his bar.

“Coming right up.”

—

The next day you woke up in your hotel room feeling a tiny bit dizzy. Maybe you felt that way because of the free wine you had consumed the other night. Or perhaps it was because you had cried yourself to sleep. You had been fine all day because you had kept yourself busy, but the moment you entered your tiny room, it all came crashing down. 

You were indeed alone in a foreign city while staying in a romantic bed and breakfast thing where only couples go for a honeymoon or whatever. Anyone would cry in that situation, or that’s what you tell yourself. You didn’t cry because you missed him. You cried because you missed having someone in your life to share your thoughts with. 

But, today is a new day, and a new day means not dwelling on the past. A new day means obsessing over the handsome guy from last night. After they finished their drinks, he was the one who came up to pay. He spoke to you first, but the owner quickly told him you actually didn’t work there. He seemed surprised by that information, and your temporary boss explained the situation to him.

“So, you’re like a real-life hero?” He had said to you while your boss was trying to get the paying machine to work.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” You told Jaehyun with a soft blush noticeable on your cheeks.

“I said you were a gift from the Gods. That’s kind of the same.” Your boss deadpanned, making you roll your eyes while Jaehyun laughed at the scene before him. 

That guy seemed to laugh a lot, and you hoped he would never stop because his smile had healed you in some ways. It had made your heart’s doors open to just a crack. He had given you hope that men were still beautiful, and the world was still peaceful. You noticed you were still thinking about him while you were roaming the streets. You wondered if he was still in this city, and if so, where would he be? Would he also be exploring with a camera in hand trying to capture the movement in silence? So many questions, and so little answers.

You were quietly taking a picture of a bridge from the side of the river when you noticed some loud screams and laughs. They reminded you of the boys from last night, so you automatically turned your head toward the noise. There were a lot of people and some cameras focused on a handful of handsome men dancing to a song you had never heard before. The song suited their cool-guy outfits, and it made you smile. There were also a lot of girls screaming on the sidelines for their favourite boy. It reminded you of the time when you went to a One Direction concert with your friends. Oh, being young, naive and obsessed with boybands. What a wonderful time in a young girl’s life. 

You moved closer to the commotion and immediately recognized Mark at the centre of the group. He looked in perfect shape, and you were glad he had accepted your iced tea. You had a feeling he wouldn’t be standing there if he had taken the second beer. You gravitated to the side behind all the screaming girls. You gently seated yourself at the side of the river while keeping your eyes focused on the dancing boys. You didn’t recognize the language they were singing in, but it didn’t bother you at all. 

Finally, you spotted Jaehyun. The boy who had been in your thoughts ever since you had briefly met him last night. You didn’t think he could be even more handsome in broad daylight, but he brightly outshone the sun in his leather jacket. You zoned out watching Jaehyun move effortlessly to the beat, you hadn’t noticed when the music had stopped. They were now saying their goodbyes and thanking their fans for showing up on such short notice. 

Somehow your eyes locked with Jaehyun’s, and a big smile formed on his face when he noticed you looking at him. It was the second time he had caught you staring at him, but it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He enthusiastically waved to you, and some fans thought it was directed to them, but you and Jaehyun knew it was meant for you. You softly waved back at him before retreating back to the other side of the busy street, leaving Jaehyun behind. 

You strolled through the city with one thing on your mind: how can someone be so good-looking? It seemed a bit unfair to you that one person could hold the earth’s beauty with just a smile. It’s only fair that he is in a famous boyband so that many people can drown in his grace. The pictures you took that day were taken with a different mentality of the city. It somehow didn’t seem so dull anymore. You noticed the colours and wondered if the world had always been so bright. 

Eventually, you found your way back to the bar that had promised you free drinks. You hoped the owner would still recognize you and would keep his promise. Also, it would be nice to have someone to talk to after spending the day by yourself. The moment you entered you felt like you were being watched, but you tried to ignore the feeling. It was probably because you had spent the day alone, and people could smell the loneliness on you. 

“Hi!” You said while seating yourself at the bar. He immediately recognized you and presented a glass of white wine in front of you.

“I was wondering when you would show up. I thought you were going to ditch this bottle of wine.” The owner said while gesturing to one of the more expensive bottles. 

“I will never leave a good bottle of chardonnay alone.” You told him seriously, which made him laugh a little bit. 

“I have some boxes to bring up, can you maybe see if that table in the corner needs anything?” He asked you with pleading eyes, and you agreed. Happy to be doing something useful.

“I got your back.” You told him while getting off your seat, ready to help the poor man out. The table he had mentioned was just one guy softly scrolling through his phone. He seemed to be getting a lot of messages and calls, but he ignored them all. 

“Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked the man. He turned around and your eyes locked with the one guy who had occupied your mind the whole day. 

“We have to stop running into each other like this.” Jaehyun smiled, giving you the same look of adoration he had given his friend the day before. 

“I think you want to run into me like this.” You laughed, but you were quickly interrupted by the owner of the bar. He carried two glasses of wine and some snacks. 

“It’s on the house.” He simply said before leaving you alone with Jaehyun. You had barely spoken two sentences with the guy where one of them was him asking where the toilet was. You were more strangers than anything. Blame it on the lack of social contact you had today. Maybe you could simply blame it on yourself because you couldn’t stay focused for more than five minutes when he was near. 

“You can sit with me?” Jaehyun asked you insecure, and somehow he broke the awkward vibes you were giving off. He seemed to do that a lot around you, breaking some of the defence mechanisms you had built around yourself. 

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself while taking a seat opposite him. He seemed pleased by your actions and leaned a bit forward. His eyes searching for yours before he spoke.

“I’m Jaehyun. It’s nice to put a name to the beautiful face.” He said with a prominent smile on his face, which only made you blush. 

“I could say the same.” You said before taking a sip of your wine. He mirrored your actions, both of you not knowing what to do or say in a situation like this. It felt like the first time you had met someone new, and all social etiquette vanished from your brain.

“I’m sorry for being awkward,” Jaehyun stated, avoiding your eyes while doing so. 

“I think it is adorable, and I’m also glad I’m not the only awkward one sitting at this table.” You told him, and he quickly locked his eyes with yours. The newfound confidence changed his body language. He had popped his elbows on the table to support his head so he could entirely focus on you, and only you. His phone was lighting up in silence, but he simply ignored everything. 

“Are you from here?” He asked you while he rested his head on his hands. His long eyelashes being the only thing you could stare at. 

“No, are you?” You answered and asked him. Usually, you loved talking the other person’s ears off, but with Jaehyun, you wanted to know more about him. What was the driving force in Jaehyun’s story? What was his favourite colour? You want to know it all.

“No, I’m actually from Korea. Are you here alone?” He asked you, and you could tell he was a little bit worried by the frown on his face. You wanted him to laugh that low laugh of his again.

“This is my ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ trip.” You softly explained to him with a smile on your face. It had been a long time since you had smiled so much because of one person.

“The Julia Roberts movie?” He asked you interested, engrossed by your thoughts. 

“That one.” You confirmed before taking a large sip from your glass. Once again he mirrored your actions, which made you smile and feel warm on the inside.

“Are you going through a divorce?” He laughed, and you quickly shook your head. You couldn’t believe he actually knew what you were talking about. Usually people never understood your references.

“Worse, I’m going through heartbreak because of a fuck-boy. Why are you here, though? I bey your story is more interesting.”

“I hardly doubt that. Did you pay attention this afternoon?” He asked you, and you quickly nodded your head.

“You’re in a boyband?” You asked him softly while looking around. You didn’t want anyone to hear your conversation, afraid a wild fangirl could appear. You had seen their fans for a couple of minutes, and it was enough for you to be scared. You had been a fangirl yourself in your teenage years, you knew what they were capable of. 

“Exactly. That’s why I’m here because we have a concert tomorrow.” He explained to you, grabbing your attention again. 

“Shouldn’t you be practising?” You asked him softly. Why would he be here drinking wine, when he has a concert tomorrow? It couldn’t be because of you, right?

“I actually should, but I really wanted to go back to this bar for some strange and unknown reason.” He rested his hands on his lap while looking down. Was he getting shy now?

“What if I hadn’t shown up tonight?” You boldly asked him. If tonight was the only night you had with him, you wanted to make it count. You wanted to remember the spark in Jaehyun’s eyes that made butterflies explode in your stomach. You wanted to remember the way his laugh could melt your icy heart.

“I don’t know. I just knew I could find you here.” He confessed softly, and you couldn’t help but look lovingly at him. He just had that aura around him. You just can’t help but love Jaehyun. He shouldn’t waste a moment without that smile of his that could cure any disease.

“So you admit you were looking for me?” You asked him teasingly, and his ears turned a little bit red by your accusation. 

“I never said I wasn’t. I thought my intentions were pretty clear from the start.” He tried to recover, but the redness spread over his cheeks.

“And what are your intentions?” 

“I actually don’t know. I just wanted to get to know your name.” He confessed to you again, which made your heart stop for just a second. A moment passed when you were both simply staring into each other’s eyes as if you were paused in a cliché romantic comedy. 

“Well, you learned my name.” You finally broke the silence.

“I’m not yet satisfied if I’m honest.” He told you softly, making you blush in return.

“You can be honest with me.” You simply told him, trying to fight the static atmosphere. A strange feeling washed over you while staring at him, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was the feeling of the promise of a memorable moment with Jaehyun. 

“Can you be honest with me?” He asked you softly, not wanting to break the tension. You simply nodded your head at his question. Anticipation and adrenaline taking over your body. Not wanting to cross the line where the mystery would fade, but also craving to know where this conversation would take you.

“Do you want to get some ice-cream with me?” He asked you, his voice low it could make panties drop in a second, but the intention so innocent it made you question your sanity. You were craving something to cool you off, caused by the man sitting opposite you. What’s the point in rushing before it begins?

[bakubaewritings]

Lost (3)

Todoroki x reader - lost part 3

(part 1)  (part 2)  (part 4)

** so sorry it took a while for this part to come out, I promise part 4 wont take as long, i will try to get it up asap. **

(slight mentions of sex & panic attack)

Having spent the last days of summer break with Dabi, you two had grown much closer. You felt comfortable with him, telling each other all about your lives, families, and pasts. However, there was still one secret you kept form him, your miscarriage. Today was a bit different from your usual schedule. You were heading back to the dorms at UA today to get all your stuff organized before school started. As you left abruptly, you doubted everything was still neat. Dabi had made the decision to tag along with you since it was mostly thanks to his encouragement, you felt so much stronger. Thankfully it looked like the coast was clear; no one had decided to come early and was at the dorms. You and Dabi began to carry your boxes up to your room. It wasn't very many, just some with clothes and decorations for your room. "How many boxes do you have doll? My arms are getting tired," Dabi complained, setting down another box near your bed. You let out a giggle, "I'm sure there's only one more." You told him as you were organizing your dorm room. Dabi grumbled and disappeared behind the door. You reached into one of the open boxes and pulled out a picture frame, the photo was of you and Shoto kissing under a cherry blossom tree from your first year of dating. The two of you had joined your classmates in attending a festival. You had worn a beautiful white and red kimono that matched Shoto's hair, remembering how he blushed when he first saw you made you tear up. You set the frame down next to you on the floor. Reaching into the box once more, this time, you pulled out a sonogram picture. It was your little baby before you found out they had no heartbeat. You starred down at the picture, your hands becoming shaky, for so long you had been trying to distract yourself from mourning the loss. Still, you couldn't ignore the pain in your chest every time you looked in the mirror. Tears flowed down your cheeks, letting out shaky breaths. Every moment of your isolated depressive months came back to you in a flash. The endless nights of isolated panic and anxiety, a feeling of shame still lingered. "Doll, are you alright?" Dabi's voice pulled you out of your trance. His eyes fell to the small black and white picture in your hands. You wiped the tears from your eyes, 'I'm alright." You were never good at lying, He could see right through your facade. Dabi set the last box down and walked towards you. You moved the picture in an attempt to hide the sonogram from him, but he was too quick. Dabi's eyes went wide as he looked down at the small photo. "Is this?" His voice was quiet, so calm. But there was evident pity and sorrow. You didn't speak a word, you couldn't. It was caught, like a pit in your throat. "Y/n." He wrapped his arms around your frame. His warmth comfort made you feel something you hadn't in so long, you felt safe. You cried into his shoulder for what felt like hours, Dabi caressed you, stroked your hair gently. Finally, you began to run out of tears and stopped crying. You were silent in his warm embrace, his touch felt so soft and warm. Dabi seemed to melt away all the sorrow that had frozen your heart, well almost all of it. Turning your head, your eyes met his own narrow turquoise eyes. They were soft, filled with emotion. His hand cradled the back of your head, "is this what Endeavour been blackmailing you with?" All you could do was give him a small nod. "Does Shoto know?" You shook your head, 'no.' He hugged you even tighter. Cradled in his arms with his back against the bed, his long legs bent so that you could sit on his thighs, your own legs around his waist. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, your faces were so close. His hot breath tingling your lips as the gap began to get smaller and smaller. "You're so beautiful, please don't cry." He cooed stroking your hair gently, his breath sent shivers your spine. Your lips moved almost on their own as they grazed his. "Y/N?" You jumped in Dabi's arms, like a teenager getting caught with a boy in her room by her parents. You moved backward, but Dabi's hand quickly took hold of your own, pulling you back towards him. With a deep red blush, you looked at the doorway to find Midoriya standing there, a faint blush on his cheeks, but tears in his eyes. "Zuzu," You couldn't help but let out a smile. As you began to stand, Dabi almost protectively tightened his grip on your hand. He didn't wasn't to let go, truth be told he was quite upset your moment had been interrupted. You turned to him, assuring him it was all right, and he let go hesitantly. You practically jumped into the green-haired boy's arms. "Hey, Zu, I missed you." You giggle, wiping the boy's tears away, your arms hugged at his waist tightly, laying your head on his shoulder. Midoriya had his arms wrapped right around you, sobs of happiness fell from his lips as he burst with joy. How he was to see you, and how worried he was, how much he had missed you. You returned with your own kind words, explaining your time away was much needed. Midoriya had become your best friend during your time at UA. In fact, he was almost like a part of your family, like a brother. "Umm, Y/n, who is that?" Midoriya was pointing to Dani, who had stood up from the floor and now leaned against the door frame. He was towering above you and Izuku. 'This guy looks pretty scary.' Midoriya screeched in his own thoughts "Oh, Zu, meet Touya Todoroki." You smiled in between the two boys, "Touya, this is my best friend, Izuku Midoriya." "Touya Todoroki, but please call me Dabi, I'm Y/n's fiancé." Dabi's voice came out in an almost possessive cold tone. It caught both you and Midoriya off guard. You had never could Dabi act like this towards you. "Fiancé?" Midoriya stuttered out confused "Dabi! You can't just come out and say that everyone's going to think I'm a whore for being engaged to my ex-boyfriend's brother." You scolded the tall, dark-haired man. Your angered tone caught him off guard, but he retained his calm composure best he could. "I'm sorry, would you prefer, hi I'm Touya, but please call me Dabi, and Y/n and I are engaged because my father set us up on an arranged marriage." He chuckled amusingly, you shook your head. Poor Midoriya was so confused, his mouth damn near the floor. "No, I would prefer you not to tell anyone we are engaged." You poked his chest roughly, your glare at him sharply. Turning over to Midoriya you sighed heavily, 'looks like the cats out of the bag, at least it's only Midoriya.' "Zu, please do not tell anyone, I'm waiting until we graduate to even make it "official." A lot of things happened during the break-." "But, I don't understand, why?" he interrupted you, his fists were balled up at his sides. His face screaming of confusion, anger, and even regret. Midoriya had been struggling a lot since you left. He developed a deep resentment for Todoroki after what had happened, and he felt awful that he couldn't help you. For much of summer break, he imagined how lonely and heartbroken you must have felt, and now when you were finally back, everything seemed more of a mess. Dabi placer a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Your answer is actually quite simple. The devil works hard, but Endeavor works harder." Midoriya's gaze fell to you, his eyes softened and filled with worry. "You aren't doing this out of your own, will are you?" His voice came out shaky, but the anger couldn't be ignored. You trusted him, you trusted Midoriya with your own life, so you told him. " Endeavor is blackmailing me. After Shoto and I broke up, I spent the summer break at my grandmother's, and then he showed up. He-" "He's a jackass." Dabi scoffed Midoriya nodded in agreement. "What is he blackmailing you with? Maybe we can talk to him; it couldn't be that serious that you should throw your whole life away to marry someone," he turned to Dabi, who had a scowl on his face. "No offense." You looked down at your feet, "it...it's.." Dabi's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. Your gaze never left the floor. Your hands reached up to cup your face, you felt hot tears once again fall from your e/c eyes. Taking a deep breath, you spoke, "months ago, before Todoroki and I broke up. He started becoming distant, at first I didn't want to pry." Your words were shaky despite your attempts to be coherent. Dabi pulled you even closer, you could hear his heartbeat in your ears. "Doll it's alright you don't have to-" "I blamed myself for him being distant, so I thought. Maybe if I had sex with him, it would make him love me again, make him stay. But I got pregnant." A gasp came from Midoriya. Your gaze refused to leave the ground, but you could feel his eyes on you. "I didn't find out until a while ago, but when I found out, the baby didn't have a heartbeat. All my stress and depression after what happened, I just-" You collapsed onto the ground, breaking down hysterically. Your words were incoherent as coughs and sobs escaped your lips every time you attempted to speak. Both boys were now embracing you, and although you appreciated the love, it felt like it was becoming claustrophobic. "Please, I can't breathe." You inhaled in an attempt to fill your lungs with oxygen. "Y/n, are you alright?" Midoriya asked "I- I don't. I can't breathe." "She is having a panic attack," Dabi lifted you up into his arms. "She's cold," "We have to get her to the hospital." Midoriya cried You were still having trouble breathing, gripping Dabi's shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. Everything around you was incredibly blurry, the whole room was spinning. "Don't pass out Y/n, please." Dabi's voice was so quiet. He stuttered a little, almost like he was trying not to cry. But you couldn't, your eyelids were so heavy. Your brain felt as though it was pounding against your skull. You began to fade in and out until darkness overcame you. . . A loud, beeping sound woke you up. Opening your eyes to take in your surroundings, you were in a hospital room with an IV in your arm and monitors. Midoriya and Dabi were slumped in the chairs next to the bed. You sat up slowly, taking a deep breath. There were footsteps outside the door, along with some familiar voices. Your heart began beating quickly. In walked in some of your closest classmates, even Bakugo was there, with a scowl on his face. You were thankful that it wasn't everyone who had come. Seeing everyone at once felt like a little too much to handle for one day, especially since Todoroki and Momo weren't there. Kirishima carried with him a teddy bear, Ochacco with ballons, and Iida a bouquet of flowers. "What are you guys doing here?" You were shocked, happy, but very shocked. Kaminari practically dove towards you and snuggled up at your sides like a kitten, his arms wrapped around your waist. "We came to see if you were alright, Midoriya texted you were back." Ochaco smiled, walking towards you, to give you a hug. "Thank you guys, I missed you all so much." "We are so glad you're back and safe, Y/n." Mina chirped "Are you alright, Y/n? We haven't seen you since-" Tokoyami asked "I am, I needed a break away from everything. But I guess I wasn't fully ready to deal with everything since I ended up in the hospital." You scratched the back of your neck. "Midoriya said you had a panic attack, and your blood pressure dropped," Iida informed you. "oh," You looked over to Dabi and Midoriya, who was now waking up. Midoriya rubbed his eye gently when he noticed everyone in the room he smiled. "You guys came." "We did. We wanted to make sure our little Y/n was alright," Kaminari said, finally letting go of you and walking over towards Kirishima and Mina. Dabi stood up from the seat, taking the opportunity to stretch. Dabi toward over most of your classmates. He placed his large hand on your head, "you scared me, idiot." You looked up at him with big doe eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm alright, though." "Umm Y/n, who's your friend?" Ochaco asked curiously "Oh right guys this is T-" "Dabi, you can call me Dabi. Pleased to meet you all, Y/n has spoken highly of all of you." Your classmates began introducing themselves to Dabi, one by one. Everything seemed to be so peaceful, everyone talking like how it was before everything. That was until your stomach began growling. Everyone seemed to turn to you, a blush crept onto your cheeks in embarrassment. "Hey, you hungry, Y/n?" Midoriya asked You nodded, "yeah, actually." Kaminari decided to perk up, "Come on, guys, our Y/n is hungry. Let's go on a mission to get some food!" He cheered, causing you and everyone else to laugh. "Hey, stop yelling, idiot. We are in a hospital," Bakugo yelled angrily at Kaminari. "Bakugo, you're not helping your case by yelling yourself." Iida pointed out "You guys go on, I'll stay here with Y/n," Dabi told them. "I'll stay too." Midoriya and Ochaco jumped in "You guys don't have to, I'll be fine. Go get food for yourselves as well, and bring me something good, like (favorite food)!" You perked up thinking yummy food. "Are you sure Y/n?" Midoriya asked. You sent gave him a nod and a smile, assuring him it was alright. Dabi planted a kiss onto your forehead, "be a safe doll, don't go passing out on me again." You blushed a deep red color. Everyone else in the room was shocked as well. "you got it." Your voice came out as more of a squeal. "We'll be right back, Y/n." Kirishima waved "Don't go anywhere." Joked Mina "See ya in a bit Doll." After everyone was gone, you finally let out a shriek of embarrassment, letting your head fall back onto the pillows. Dabi was gonna get an ear full when you two were alone. There was the sound of the door opening again. You thought it was probably of your classmates who had forgotten something; to be honest, you were quiet, hoping it was Dabi. You lifted your head up from the bed to look at who had walked in, only to have your world stop. Staring back at you were a pair of tear-filled heterochromatic eyes.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Good morning! Whats your favorite show/movie? Who are your favorite characters? Why do you like them so much? Also!! Did you have a good sleep?

Okay so I was a film major for a while, and I have opinions. 

Penny Dreadful 

I love this show. Like, so much. I adore it. I can not get enough of that show. Just all of the imagery, and the fantastic writing and acting. The episode intro alone is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Eva Green is a goddess and I love everything she’s been in. The take on classic horror stories is So Good, and it actually became the inspiration for my Gay Frankenstein story! (Started as a stitch AU, and then went completely OC after I had Ideas) but the show itself is so intimate? I think it’s largely that the period they’re in, everything was so repressed and restricted. So when the characters break out of those moments, it’s more meaningful. And the love-hate relationship between Ms. Ives and Malcolm in season one? Exquisite.  I could literally write essay’s about this show, but I’ll restrain myself and just say: it’s the best ensemble show I’ve ever seen. The characters come together, but they also each have their own distinct lives that sometimes intersect, but in s2 especially, are quite separate. They are constant with one another like ensemble shows usually portray. Also gothic horror and romance? My absolute favorite. 

Anything by Guillermo del Toro

This man Owns My Entire Soul. I’m not even joking, everything he writes and directs is perfection. Crimson Peak is probably my favorite (I have a stitch AU for this too ;) ) because again, Gothic horror and romance. I’m a slut for that shit. Also Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain? Delightful casting. I think it’s obvious by now that I love tragic relationships, so their dynamic is *chef’s kiss* amazing. they’re so damaged. And this quote right here is one of the BEST things I’ve ever read: 

“But the horror... The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.”

Engrave that on my headstone, please?? I’ve got a sort-of Dorian Gray AU (it’s delightful) that’s basically built on this entire premise. Mitch makes the mistake of falling in love with Stiles, and does many terrible things because of it. Mostly to himself, at least. 

I think my love of Crimson Peak is very closely tied with The Shape of Water. another beautiful movie, I could wax poetic about this forever. it was beautifully written, and such an artistic movie. I love the way it was filmed, and the set design, and all of the subtle imagery. Such as Elisa’s apartment being cast in cooler tones, it always felt very damp and had evidence of water damage, compared to Giles’, a mirror image of her own, in more warm tones. This is another one I could (and have) write essays about. There is so much packed into this movie, from the themes on toxic masculinity and entitlement, to the conversation on queerness and race and disability, and how all the various relationships are portrayed. Like. there is so much to pick apart in this movie. 

Aside from that, ofc Hell Boy deserves an honorable mention because i grew up on those movies. I’m pretty sure the Golden Army especially is responsible for who I am today, given all the lore on the fae in that universe. Wow, that explains so much about me... Also one of my first WoW characters was an elf named Nuala xD I still have her, too, and it’s been like 12 years lol

Near-Future Sci-Fi

Sci-fi is one of my favorite genres, I am a huge nerd for theoretical and astrophysics. But my favorite kind of sci-fi is the stuff that still takes place on Earth, rather than epic battles in space. Ex Machina and Annihilation are at the top of that list. Alex Garland is another writer/director that I love. He has the same kind of approach as del Toro, where he puts a lot of fine details into his work. And I love that it’s very cerebral; there are so many layers to Ex Machina. My English 101 prof actually refused to analyze it in class when I suggested it to him, because he didn’t think my class could. Basically handle? Dissecting that movie? Because a lot of it comes across as very surface level, but in some cases when you look deeper, it’s actually suggesting the opposite of what you might think at first glance. (And he was right, my fellow students were awful. I miss that class though, it was one of my favorites T_T Mr. Ryder was an awesome dude and super chill.) 

Morgan is another good example. As you can see, I fucking love androids lol. Which brings me to another of my all time favorite movies: Cloud Atlas. I could literally watch this movie endlessly, I love it so much. The acting, the writing, the filming, all of it is top notch. And one thing they did in the movie that didn’t come across in the book, was reusing the same actors through the different eras in the book. That was just so neat, because it really encapsulates how connected these souls are, as we follow the threads of their story throughout time. If you haven’t seen the movie, I can’t recommend it enough.  

Another one I always think of alongside Cloud Atlas, even though they aren’t related at all, is Predestination. It’s a great movie that explores the idea of fate and free will in a really clever way, utilizes time travel in a very organized way that I think was neat (think Umbrella Academy. They even use briefcases! As you can see, I love sci-fi bureaucracy, it’s fun. In fact The Bureau is another movie I enjoyed) and the main character is actually, explicitly trans, which was cool. You basically get to see the entire story of their life, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s just. So good. Mindfuckery galore. 

Shoot, and I almost forgot! Arrival! That is one of the best movies, and another one I could watch nonstop. It focuses on mathematics and linguistics and I swear to god, I almost altered my entire college course because of this movie. Amy Addams is brilliant, Jeremy Renner is so soft and nerdy, and again, it has an amazing take on time travel. I am very particular about how time is handled in Sci-fi, and this portrayal was one of my favorite. (Most of my physics studies have been dedicated to the theory of time, so like. Strong Opinions.) 

Fantasy

Stardust! It wasn’t until Good Omens can out that I realized Neil Gaiman is responsible for most of the stories I loved as a kid lol, and I had no idea he wrote stardust! But that is such a beautiful movie (I have a Stardust AU lol) and it’s definitely one of my comfort movies. Captain Shakespeare is one of the best characters ever, bless Robert de Niro. I would die for him. Fun fact, i had no idea Ipswitch was a real place until like. 2019. I 100% thought it was made up for the movie 😂

Alongside Stardust, I’ve always loved The Golden Compass. It’s fantasy, but also with that old-timey steampunk science feel, which is so fun and surprisingly difficult to find! 

Mortal Engines also has the same kind of feel, and it was such an epic movie in every sense of the word. I’m a little sad that after all the work that went into it, it didn’t get a dedicated following or fan base, because I feel there’s so much potential in it. But at the same time, fandom tends to gather around media that has plenty of flaws for us to repair with gold, and there wasn’t much room for that in Mortal Engines. 

I’m going to put Jupiter Ascending here even though it technically fits with the sci-fi, because that section is long as fuck and also this movie has such a fantastic feel. Mila Kunis? beautiful. The CGI? beautiful. Eddy Redmayne? One of the best villain portrayals i’ve ever seen. The whole oedipal vibe he had was immaculate, as was their portrayal of reincarnation, and just. The world building. GOD. I get so weak for through world building. Also the fkn intergalactic bureaucracy when they’re basically at the space DMV? One of my all time favorite scenes in movie history. 

Horror

I have very little room in my life for horror. As I said, I have strong movie opinions, especially when it comes to horror movies. I don’t like how most of them rely on cheap jump scares and overused gore and gratuitous rape scenes, instead of, y'know, actual good writing. 

Which is EXACTLY why I adore It: Chapter 1 & 2. It has none of those things, but still manages to be so terrifying. They are my favorite horror movies, and I’m saying this as someone who has genuine childhood trauma bc of the novel. Like. I couldn’t shower/take baths alone until I was almost 10 T_T When I was 6-7 and saw kids play by storm drains, I would run over screaming about how Pennywise was going to get them. Like, I had issues man. I was terrified to see the first one, and wouldn’t go until I could go with my best friend after she had already seen it, so she could warn me when something scary was about to happen 😂

And, one of my favorite aspects of the movie, and the thing that gave me Mad Respect for Any Muschietti? The way he filmed Bev and her father. They have a character who is literally being molested, but they never once have to show it. And yet their interactions are still so viscerally upsetting to watch. Sexploitation puts me off of most horror, and the fact that Muschietti doesn’t use it here, even when it would be actually somewhat justified? *chef’s kiss*. I love him. 

I love horror as a concept, I’m just really picky about it because I expect the writing to be good. I don’t like short cuts. But in a lot of cases, even if I don’t enjoy the movie itself, I love to watch analysis videos on youtube! I love to see the philosophy and symbolism in different horror movies, even if i don’t like to watch the movies themselves. It’s a fun hobby. 

Misc. 

Then in general, some other stuff I love in no particular order:

The Internship (Bless Dylan, Stuart is such a bitch and I love him) 

American Assassin (ofc. The writing itself is eh, but Mitch is my man) 

Dylan’s episode of Weird City. (I actually have a lot of feelings about this one. Jordan Peele is another amazing writer/director, I really need to catch up on his works.) 

Dorian Gray (*chef’s kiss*)

Rogue One (Makes me cry every time) 

WARCRAFT (Obviously this is a fav. It made me so happy, words cannot express.) 

Coraline and most other stop motion animation. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that. 

Literally anything associated with Tim Burton. Fun fact, when I was 12 and in middle school, I planned to decorate my future house inspired by tim burton. Like, i had Plans. 

Most adaptations of Alice in Wonderland!

So! this got long as fuck! But you said you like that kind of thing lol 😂 I had kinda Eh sleep since I was up so late lmao, and I kept waking up (as usual, rip). And I’m so mad I go up for nothing! The dude I was supposed to show my listing to never showed, and is refusing to answer my calls >_> It’s been 2 hours now, and I still haven’t heard from him. But whatever, I already have a full price cash offer on the house so who cares. And that means I can play WoW all day, now! 

[wavbleu]

Rodrick heffley: Keep quiet

tw: possession and degrading

~~~~~~~~~

"I cant believe she would do that to you!" you say with a short giggle, you look at Rodricks adorable face and my smile grew bigger knowing that the only time hes genuinely happy and laughing is around you. "I was so totally shocked when she bit me, my dick hurt for like the following week." He stroked his fingers through his semi-short hair and continued on his painful story on how he lost his virginity.

You and Rodrick have been talking for 2 and a half months now, you and him have an extreme connection despite the fact that you are totally opposite. You like to wear softer colored clothes and get good grades in school, and Rodrick well... doesn't. He doesn't give a shit what people think or say about him and just goes the way he wants to, Thats what you've always adored him, you were jealous of that.

Sometimes  you question how your friends with a guy as corrupted as him.

But when ever you converse the words just spill out of you, it actually feels like hes engaged and actually willing to hear more and learn about you. You've never experienced anything like that before. Speaking that most of your exes just used you for sex.

Whenever your around Rodrick, you feel like yourself. What ever you are scared to be in front of everyone else you show it to him and he strangely accepts it. Obviously, you would even consider him your best friend or 'pal' But lately ... the way he touches you isnt very 'pal-like' . Although it may seem like something small, he would massage your knee and work his way down your smooth thigh, stopping right before he reaches your inner thigh; slowly massaging that area and leaves you wanting more of him.

It could be when your hugging and he lowers his hands from your waist to your hips.. Stuff like that may not seem large but it speaks louder and clear that theres sexual tension in the air.

Rodrick finished up his tragic v card story and you both giggled, Rodrick then abruptly stopped laughing and his once loud laugh turned into a snarky smile. "What's with the smirk." you say smiling nervously not knowing what he will do.

"Are you a virgin?" He says, "Nah." You respond back to him. "Ive only had sex with 2 people though."

Yea you weren't a virgin (at all) but man when you had sex it was just beyond awful, terrible. Butterflies grew in your stomach as you watched him bite his cheek in amazement.

"Wow, Little miss Y/N getting freaky in the sheets." he teased, you droopily looked down at your swinging feet hanging off your bed and sighed before admitting, "Well it wasn't exactly good.. if fact it was absolutely dreadful." , "Well i wanna hear this to see if its just as bad as mines."

You adjusted yourself to lean against the white headboard, looking at Rodrick who was seated at the end of the bed. You wrapped your arms around your pillow and started reminiscing on how you lost your virginity at the ripe old age of 17.

"Well it was a party that was at some random guys house.. gee I dont even remember his name... I think it was like tony or something like that.","We were in this small group with other people in our grade, we were bored so we decided to play 7 minutes in heaven.." , "and it was my turn to spin the bottle, sadly."...

flashback

~~~~~

(skip if you dont like the extra length.)

You anxiously spun the bottle, hoping that it would stop on your crush, Luke Hannington.  The bottle spun and everyone watched in awe.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as the bottle started to decelerate and fixate on a person.. tense but hopeful , you look up at the person the bottle focused on.

Luke.

You tried to hold back your sheer excitement and joyfulness, but it quickly came to a halt after seeing your crushes nonchalant, monotone, bored face. 'He was probably hoping for someone hotter' you think yourself pathetically.

Everyone sneakily snickered and whispered in each others ears after seeing his disappointed face and disgusted eyes.

You felt like bursting into tears after feeling the way you did. You felt hideous.

"So ill set the timer, the closet is on your left sweetie."  The host said, obviously trying to hold back her sneaky remarks until you get in the closet.

He quickly gets up and speed walks to the closet, you followed, fondling your fingers and biting the skin off your lip.

You got to the closet, atleast he was sweet enough to hold the door open for you.

You sat down on the carpeted floor, hassling all the jackets and coats off of you. Luke frantically searched for the light so we can actually see in this closet and took a seat after.

He closed the door and minutes later you heard it lock from the otherside, "Begin, lovebirds!"

The only thing that began was the pure awkwardness and his uncomfortable glances. "So um.." You tried to start a convo but failed at it miserably, nothing you were doing was working, he would always give this stupid uncomfy look or mess with his collar. You were milliseconds away from kicking the door down and leaving this stupid party.

"Im sorry." he said noticing your frustration, "I dont think your ugly or anything.", "Ive had sex before, but not with strangers."

Stranger. Neat.

Tension arosed in the closet after he asked out of no where, "Have you ever been fingered before?" ,"I think im a pro if i say so myself."

You nodded your head no, "Im a virgin..","Ive always wanted to though.." You tried to say seductively hoping to make him hard.  "Open your legs." He sternly demanded, you obeyed and did just that.

He pulled off your cotton panties and felt you up and down, then awkwardly slid a finger in. You gasp surprised, hoping he would've given more foreplay. "Um.." You moan as he fingered you in an accelerating pace , rubbing your left lip thinking it was your clit.

You felt second hand embarrassment for him, Luke Hannington doesn't know where the clitoris is?

You were drying out and getting turned off by his loud grunts and heavy breathing, actually thinking he was doing something. "Somebody lied to this man.." You said in your head. "No way do i actually have to fake an orgasm for this psychopath to stop."

You prepped yourself and tried replicate the girls off of pornhub, "Oh yes!" you moaned as you shook your legs frantically, a smile grew upon his face as he went faster. "Im gonna-" You dramatically puff your chest up faking an intense orgasm.

He stopped and swiped the sweat off of his forehead, "Good right?" , "Great, i bet you i wont  even be able walk straight!" You moan, you cheesily snapped your fingers and giving him finger guns to throw him off your awful acting.  The timers alarm rung, "Finally." You thought to yourself.

You stood up and walked out of the closet just fine.

You got back to the group who were snickering and giggling like a bunch of pre-schoolers.

~~~~

end of flashback

"Bad but not as bad as mines." He chuckled competitively, "Whatever." You threw a pillow at him. "Ive been cursed with the spell "awful sex." ever since that night." You dramatically say, "Is that so?" , "No guy has been capable of making you cum.. making you scream?" His voice lowered, looking into your eyes with a hot confused look.

"Yea pretty much." You sneakily adjust your skirt so he can see your soft thighs and a sliver of your panties. The room went silent as he looked you up and down, examining your body and its crevices , he licked his lips struggling to control the urge to squish and carress your thighs. He quickly looked down hoping you didnt notice how long he was staring at your body, so hungrily.

"Hey um.. y/n" He said scooting closer to you.

Your breath became heavy and palms began to sweat as you watched him scoot in closer.

"Have you been feeling it too?" his soft deep voice lowering into a erotic whispering tone. "F-feeling what?" You stumble trying to think straight, his eyes were fixated on your lips, he wanted them badly.

"You know.." "The tension?" He slowly rubs your thigh with his huge hands, maneuvering them up your skirt but stopping right before he hit, you know what. You hated that. You nod slowly to his question.

"You told me you never came before?" He questioned, "No.. never." You responded back. He put a stray hair behind your ear, then smoothly rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Can i be your first?"

You nod needily.

Biting your lip before going in for a deep passionate kiss. He wrapped his hand around your waist , scooting you up onto his lap. His hands adventured up your skirt again , grabbing your ass and slapping it. You gasp at the loud sound it made.

"My parents are home Rodrick!" You whisper yelled pulling away from the kiss.

Rodrick continued kissing your neck and ear, gripping your firm ass cheek, not giving a fuck about what anyone says. Like usual.

"Baby i truly don't give a shit, just keep it down." He sternly said.

"Mmm ok.." You moan and roll your head back as he made out with that sweet spot on your neck.

He roughly pinned you down and kissed you more this time exchanging tongue. He pulled away from the compelling kiss leaving a small train of spit

He pulled your panties off smoothly and stared at the sight to see. "Have you ever been fingered before?" He jokingly teased giving a little lightheart to this hot and spicy situation.

He trailed his hands up and down your wet pussy, looking for that spot.

When he finally got his hands on it you let out a small gaspy squeal, "Its right here?" You nod, breath getting faster.

"Yes daddy right there please~" You cry out, "Daddy?" He smirks, He slowly rubs his fingers around your clit. "Im your daddy now?" Rodrick bites his lip, "Then i guess your my little slut then."

"Are you my little slut?"  He asks you, he picks up his pace sending a small tingle down your spine, he giggled mischievously knowing that its gonna be hard for you to respond. You try to catch your breath but moans and shrieks keep cutting your words off.

"Are you my little.. slut?" He slipped in two fingers and fucked your tight hole and worked your g-spot, so much to a point where you had to grasp one of your plushies to keep from screaming. "Alright I guess ill have to make you say yes."

Your eyes roll back as you felt his mouth attach to your clit, swirling his tongue all around your sensitive clit. For the first time you actually wanted to cum..

"I think im gonna-" You bite into a pillow to cover the loud noise you were gonna let out.

Right before you were about to have an intense orgasm, he stopped. Edging you and all your senses. You whined like a little bitch.

"Shut the fuck up." He said unbuckling his pants, "Your gonna take this dick and your gonna like it, alright? alright." He said stroking his rock hard twitching dick before aggressively sliding in.

"My parents- ah-" , " I swear if you mention your parents one more time im gonna throat fuck you."  He said in a pissed off tone.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and slid a pillow under you.  Rodrick continued to fuck up into you, hitting that one spot again, and again, and again; and just to torture you, he rubbed your clit you were experiencing bliss, euphoria.

Rodrick swiftly took your legs off his shoulder and spread them wide open so he could get a deeper fuck, "stupid slut your legs are trembling." , "You really like me fucking you hard, hitting that spot just perfectly even when your parents are just sitting in their room ; feet away? " ,"Now when i ask this again, i want a response."

"are you my little slut?" He whispered into your ears, you moaned loudly and threw your head back, "Yes!", "Yes daddy, im your slut." ," I want your parents to fucking hear." He looked you deep in the eyes waiting for your response.

"Yes daddy im your slut.." You moaned loudly.

He grasped on your waist and pounded deep into you, the claps of your skin, the loud moans, at that point you forgot you even HAD parents.

He kept fucking into your tight cunt relentlessly, hitting every single spot perfectly. Humanly impossible.

"Cum whore i know you wanna." Rodrick says, you open your mouth but no moans come out.. that was it . You were actually gonna cum... Your legs began to shake and tumble ,  it felt like a large sneeze but in your stomach. "Im gonna-" You could barely get out.

You released yourself onto his cock, "Fucking hell." He said as he couldn't bare to last any longer. He pulled out of you and came onto your tired cunt.

"Damn baby." He groaned putting his softening dick away. "was it good?" He hopefully said, "It was amazing." You responded back excitedly.

That stupid curse is gone, yay!

Everything was good until you heard loud footsteps seconds away from your door.

~~~~~~~

Authors note:

This is a pretty long story but i actually enjoyed writing these ones, rodrick was my first story on this book (and my most popular) so you know i had to do the mf again🙄 pegging and femboy kink coming soon⚠️

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (30)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: There's an awful lot of hesitation going around as the team prepares to put Tessa in undercover. Can she convince them it will all work out?

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“No. Absolutely not. No way in hell.” It’s not simple pacing, not this time. No, Tony is positively stalking around the room. “I’m sorry, how did we even get this far?” he questions, spinning on a heel to face the group before him.

“Well,” Natasha starts, “most of us got here through sheer will and tenacity.”

Steve dramatically rolls his eyes. “You were out of the country. We didn’t think you needed to know all of the details.”

“Great,” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “So glad to be part of the team.” He turns to Tessa and levels her with a stern stare. “I expected better from you.”

She frowns. “Why?”

“Why? Because you… you’re supposed to be smarter than… than them!”

She walks over to him and takes hold of his shoulders. “Tony, I know you hate feeling out of the loop. That’s why we’re telling you about this now. But you have to understand, we’re not asking for your permission.”

“We?” he intones bitterly. “When exactly did you all become a we?”

“Haven’t you been trying to get me to be part of the team for… forever?” she asks, voice rising an octave in irritation. “Well, I’m here. I’m part of the team.”

“You always were part of the team,” Steve says, stepping forward. “And we may not be asking for permission, but the point of this debrief is to get everyone’s opinion on where to take this next. Because we are a team.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “That was inspiring,” he mutters sarcastically. “Now should we vote?”

“Not if your vote is to drop it,” Tessa tells him.

“My vote is for you to stay out of it.”

“I second that,” Tony says, raising his hand high.

“This whole thing only works if Tessa’s involved,” Natasha says from her perch on the arm of the couch.

“No,” Tony drones. “No.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and blinks hard before going on. “If this guy is really doing what your ex… lover says he is, if he’s actually dicking around with highly regulated gene research, then we just need to turn him over to the proper authorities. Those being, not us.”

“So they can tell us there’s not enough evidence to launch an investigation?” Steve questions. “And in the meantime, he gets that much closer to developing some kind of super human.”

“And marketing it,” Clint supplies.

“And he’ll do it by torturing and killing mutants,” Tessa says soberly.

“And,” Tony says, “I don’t want him to do any of that, obviously. But that doesn’t make this our problem.”

Steve’s face turns livid. “Oh come on, Tony! If we don’t do something about this, there’s a damn good chance no one will. And you know that!”

“So let’s just throw our mutant teammate into the fray,” he counters angrily. “Let’s just send her over to the guy who’s looking for mutants to experiment on. Yeah, that sounds like a great plan!”

“It’s a terrible plan,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“Do you have a better one?” Steve asks.

“No!” Tony exclaims. “That’s why I said we should drop it!”

“All we need her for is access,” Steve tries, calming his tone as he explains. “Lobe already invited her out to their temporary facilities. If we can just find out where they are and get Tess in, then she can plant the bugs and…”

“Then what?” Bucky asks suddenly. “Then she’ll be done? You think she’ll step aside after that?” He turns his gaze to Tessa, who shakes her head in response to his inquiry. “That’s what I thought.”

“She’ll do what I tell her to do,” Steve says, voice dripping with authority.

They all turn to look expectantly at Tessa, and to her credit, she doesn’t argue. Instead she gives a curt nod and an – albeit sarcastic sounding – “Yes, sir.”

Tony sighs, long and loud. “I think you’re all being idiots.” He turns to Tessa, “You most of all.” She glares at him, but says nothing. He ambles over to her, gets within inches of her face and whispers, “Doing this won’t change anything. You think you’re helping mutants, but you’ll never be able to help the ones you lost.”

She turns on him and spits out, “I know that.” Then, after a deep breath, “That’s not what this is about.”

“Sure,” he says, backing away. “Well… you have my opinion,” he tells the team as he moves toward the door. “I’ll be in Vienna for a few days. Try not to get anyone killed while I’m gone.”

A stillness settles over the room, the remaining Avengers sitting in silence, waiting to see who’s willing to offer up the next opinion. Bruce had been working on a special project in Antwerp for a few weeks now, so he was wholly unaware of the op. That seemed like a saving grace to Steve and Tessa, neither of whom wanted to have to defend their plans to the eternal cynic. Sam had already made a point of saying that he was in – but of course he was, where Steve led, the Falcon followed. Natasha was on board, always ready to break the monotony of a day up with some missions.

Steve was surprisingly adamant about doing this. It wasn’t always 100% clear whether he was so opposed to the thought of additional super soldiers because of the harm they could cause to the word, or because of the harm they could cause to his reputation. Some people thought that he wanted to be the only one. At least, that was a theory that Bucky had proposed once after he and Steve got into it following a sparring match that landed the Captain flat on his back without an ounce of breath left in his lungs. You’re just pissed off because you’re not the strongest, fastest guy here anymore, he’d told him, leaving the fuming soldier to pout.

Whatever the reason, Tessa was just happy he was on her side.

And maybe Tony was right. Maybe this was about something more for her. Maybe it was a sort of atonement for past ills. For abandoning her family. For abandoning herself. Maybe, but none of that would change the fact that this was the right thing to do.

The only ones in the room who had not yet spoken were Wanda, Clint and Vision. And being as Clint just cannot handle an awkward silence, he’s the first to break. “Tony might be right,” he says simply, head ducked.

Natasha scoffs. “Traitor.”

“She’s not exactly experienced in the art of espionage,” he intones, waving his hand to indicate Tessa.

Natasha unfolds her arms from across her body and stares him down. “Did we not just discuss how little we actually know about her? And she loves us. I think,” she says, giving Tessa a side-eye glance. “If she can keep so much of her life hidden from us, keep her secrets that close to the vest for years, I think she can handle spending a few hours as a disgruntled geneticist looking for a job.”

“I’m just saying, she doesn’t have the training to be put into the field. It’s not that I don’t have faith in her… but she’s unproven.”

“So she’s new to undercover work. She’s been hiding the fact that she’s a mutant for how long now?”

“Well, she clearly didn’t hide it from Cal.”

“Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not standing two feet away from you?” Tessa murmurs. “It’s a little unsettling.”

“I think she’s ready,” Natasha says simply.

Clint pulls in a long, deep breath, clearly not convinced. “What about you two?” he asks, jutting his chin out at Wanda and Vision. “What say you?”

“Oh,” Vision starts, moving to the center of the room. “I think that Dr. Sullivan is quite capable. And lest we forget, she did have a life of, well, if not espionage per se, at least subterfuge, for some time before coming here.”

Tessa frowns. “Sometimes I forget that all of my files were downloaded into your brain.”

“Yes, of course,” he responds. “It can be easy to forget. But I assure you, I do know of your past achievements as an advocate and, well, for lack of a better word, superhero.”

She raises her eyebrows. “See that? I’m a superhero.”

Clint lets out a conceited psh. “You’re a science nerd with a neat talent.”

“I could end you,” she only half teases.

“Maybe,” he replies. “But could you do it without using your talent? Because if you end up using your powers with these guys, they’re libel to lock you up and turn you into a mutant guinea pig.”

“I know,” she says in an exasperated tone. “I get it.”

“If I may,” Vision interrupts. “While I do feel that Dr. Sullivan could be successful on this mission, I’m not certain that I believe the mission itself will lead to much success.”

“Why do you say that?” Steve asks.

“Because the desire to be better, to be more, is only going to continue to grow. Especially now, in the wake of Ultron. I do not think that stopping this individual will be likely to stop this program. Or if it does, I imagine another will simply take its place.”

“Hail Hydra,” Bucky smarts from the corner.

“He’s right,” Wanda says shyly. “I knew better. But I still volunteered for Strucker’s experiments. I sacrificed everything. And I’m not at all certain that I wouldn’t do it again. To get what I wanted.”

“Revenge?” Steve questions with a raised brow. “Don’t you think that we should do what we can to keep people from enhancing themselves for reasons like that?”

“It wasn’t just revenge,” she defends. “It’s like Vis said, I wanted to be something more. I wanted to be able to protect myself. And Pietro.”

“And how did that work out?” She gives him a defeated look, a hint of anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I know you had your reasons. And maybe they were good reasons. But you did help set off what was almost the end of the world.”

“And then I helped save it. Who’s to say that someone else… someone who was enhanced… by this man or any other, wouldn’t do the same?”

“And if that someone else, who may one day save the world, got his powers by torturing innocent people? By ripping the powers from someone else’s body… would that be okay? Would that be worth it?” Tessa asks softly.

Wanda turns to her, an appalled look on her face. “No. No, of course not.”

She rises from the couch and claps her hands together in a gesture of finality. “Then it sounds like we’re all on the same page here.”

000

When she walks out of the bathroom after showering, 30 minutes worth of steam billowing out behind her, she’s honestly shocked to see Bucky in bed waiting for her. “You leave any hot water for the rest of New York?” he quips as she stills in the doorway.

She tosses the towel that she’d been using to dry her hair onto a chair in the corner and steps toward his side of the bed. “I thought you’d be out on the couch,” she says solemnly, butting her knees up against the mattress.

He sits upright and leans over to her, wraps his arms around her middle. “You think I’m so pissed, I’d sleep on the couch?”

She shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” It was rare, sure, but there had been a handful of times when Bucky abandoned the comfort of their bed – abandoned the comfort of her – for the old, beat-up sofa. When their arguments got particularly heated, or when he had a nightmare and didn’t trust himself to be around her, he’d grab his pillow and the throw from the end of the bed and venture out to the living room to feign sleep.

He looks her dead in the eye. “I’m not mad at you for wanting to do this. I understand.”

“You just don’t like it,” she says, leaning closer to him.

He raises his eyebrows and lets out a small huff. “I fucking hate it.” He drops his head to her middle, resting his temple near her hip. “But you and Steve… you’re the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And you’re both hellbent on doing this.”

She smiles as she delicately threads her fingers through his hair. “So you’re gonna skip the fight that you know you’ll lose,” she says, a lilt to her voice.

“I never actually sleep when I’m on the couch anyway,” he mumbles into her. “And I’ve got to be awake for the mission tomorrow.” He shifts a bit and looks up at her. “I’ve got to have your back.”

She smiles softly and nudges him back into the bed before climbing atop him, straddling his lap. His hands snake up beneath the back of her T-shirt and he smirks as she shivers from the cold of his metal fingers. “You’ve always got my back.”

“I do,” he agrees.

“Even when you really don’t want to.” He pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her fully, and he nestles into her bosom. She reaches her hand into his hair, tangling her fingers in once more. “I’m sorry to make you worry.” He nods into her, but says nothing. She lays her head atop his. “I’m nervous too.”

They sit like that for several long moments, holding each other. Him squeezing her so tight, holding her so close, that she honestly feels like the most precious thing in his world. And her, gripping his hair, keeping his head safely nestled right next to her heart, reassuring him that no matter what tomorrow may bring, for tonight, she’s right here with him. “I love you,” he mumbles as he kisses her collarbone.

“I love you too.” She shifts on top of him. “But I’m getting a cramp in my hamstring.” He relaxes his grip as he lets out a chuckle, and she slides off his lap and into the space next to him.

Turning towards her, he reaches down with his metal hand and pulls the comforter up over her. They both settle into the bed, her back pressed firmly up against his chest, his metal arm holding her close. “Better?” he asks, his breath hot on her ear.

She giggles from the sensation. “Yes.” She snuggles further under the covers. “It’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, well, you were steaming up the whole apartment. I had to open a window.” It was springtime, finally, and the warm weather had been a welcome treat. But out of the blue, the temperatures plummeted early this morning, leaving them all in an unexpected cold snap. The thought of that possibly portending something more sends a sudden shiver down her spine. “Hang on,” he says, flinging the comforter off and striding across the room to close the window.

“Not all the way,” she tells him, rolling to her opposite side to face him.

“Your hair’s wet,” he says with a furrowed brow. “You’ll catch pneumonia.” And he shuts the window, draws the curtains, and climbs back into bed.

“That’s not really how pneumonia works,” she gripes, settling onto his chest as he lays propped up on the pillows. She snuggles closer, dampening his T-shirt with her hair and gripping it tightly with her fingers. “The cold could make you more susceptible, but it’s caused by either a virus or bacteria. Not wet hair.” She continues to fist his shirt as she speaks, twisting her fingers up in the material and then straining to pull them back out. He reaches over and grabs her hand, gets it to release its hold on his clothes. “Sorry,” she says simply as he intertwines his fingers with hers.

“Why do you do that?” he asks softly, kissing her fingertips. “Worry your hands like that?”

She shrugs. “Nervous habit, I guess.”

“I keep waiting for the day you accidentally dislocate one of your fingers.”

She anxiously shifts, pulling her hand from his grip and tucking it between her thighs. “Sorry,” she repeats.

He wraps his metal arm around her and tugs her closer to his side. “What are you nervous about?” he asks, his voice somber. Again, she shrugs. “You worried about being alone with them?”

The plan for the facility visit was simple, but not without its perils. Tessa was to meet Lobe’s driver in the morning and he would take her to the undisclosed location. Lobe made no excuses about the secrecy. There was a lot of money at stake here. He wasn’t about to let just anyone know where his company’s research was taking place. They were certain that he would be taking precautions, watching for anyone who might be following. So they wouldn’t be able to stay in close proximity. But she’d have a tracker on her, and another to place in the car – along with a bug. And she’d have a virtually undetectable earpiece – technically still in the beta stage of development – so that she could remain on coms. And Sam would have his new little toy following the car at a safe distance so that they could maintain some sort of visual.

Once they got to the location, all she had to do was surreptitiously plant some bugs – each about the size of the head of a pin – as they gave her a tour. Easy-peasy.

“You know we’ll have your back,” he says into her hair. “We’ll be tracking you the whole time. No matter where they take you, we’ll never be more than a couple of minutes away.”

“I know,” she says softly.

“Are you afraid of what you might find there?” he asks after a long, thoughtful moment. “What you might see?”

She slides her chin up along his ribcage and rests it on his chest so that she can look him in the eye. “What if they’re close?” she asks. “What if they almost have it figured out?” She drops her gaze, looking past him. “What if we’re too late?”

He raises his brows. “What if we’re not? What if they’re nowhere near having it figured out? What if everything goes according to plan, and we get enough intel to have them shut down before they even get started?”

“What if we do, but then someone else starts up with the same grand plans and they do figure it all out?” she retorts, her voice rising in pitch at the end.

“You’re spinning in circles, doll,” he tells her with a crooked grin. “That’s why we don’t play the ‘what if’ game. Especially not the night before a mission.”

She snuggles back into him with a frown. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” she mumbles. “I feel like this is… so important. And if I fuck up – ”

“Hey,” he stops her, twisting around beneath her to bring himself eye to eye. “You’re not gonna fuck anything up.”

“You don’t know that,” she says, a despondency to her voice. “You don’t know how good I am at fucking things up.”

He looks deep into her eyes, takes in the pain, the regret. He recognizes that look as one he’s seen in the mirror a hundred times before. “Baby,” he tells her, “I don’t know what happened in your past… with your family… with the X-Men. I don’t know if you did or didn’t somehow fuck something up back then. But I’ll tell you this, Stark was right earlier. Doing this won’t change the past. And if you go into it thinking that it somehow could… thinking that you might be able to redeem yourself, or forgive yourself… Baby, that kind of unfocused thinking could easily compromise a mission.”

She sighs dramatically. “Damn you and your super hearing,” she mumbles. Tony had meant that piece of advice to be for her and her alone. He understood that no one else knew about what had happened all those years ago. And he understood that she wouldn’t want to answer any questions about it now.

As if he could read her mind, Bucky says, “I’m not asking about what happened. That’s not what you need to focus on. Tomorrow is about stopping some bad shit from happening in the future, not making up for some bad shit that happened in the past.”

She twists her face into his side and grumbles incoherently.

“You need to get some sleep,” he tells her, leaning away to flip off the bedside lamp. When he turns back, she wraps her arms tightly around him and pulls him close. He does the same, holding her once more like she’s the most precious thing in his world.

[pvntherz]

Love-struck Heartthrob

Summary: Catherine has a crush and despite being the “local heartthrob” her whole, she’s never experienced real love before.

A/N: this is just a lil somethin to break my writing funk since the last fic i remeber writing was the most recent part of the Hades and Persephone thingy (which i might add to/revamp) Anyways, stan Cathy with emotional stupidity.  

Word count: 1245

💛💙💜

Love was a strange word and even stranger language. So strange in fact, Catherine Parr could never wrap her head around it. It was frustrating. All her life Catherine had a number of terrible names attached to her. "Playgirl", "heart throb", "vixen", "a tease", and most simply "a flirt". It simply wasn't fair to the poor girl. Years worth of ruined relationships and non stop name calling simply because she didn't like saying words she didn't understand.

This followed Catherine for years.

Hence being laid out in the middle of her bedroom (or the attic as anyone else would call it) floor surrounded by a mountain of books. Some closed, others filled to the brim with self made book marks, some even open and filled with annotations in a mix of messy scrawl and neat script. It was shocking to see-- Catherine had a strict "no books on the floor" policy and "no writing in old classical books" code as well-- However, in times of emotional distress, she had to let her own mistakes slide.

"Hey kid… wow are you okay?" Catalina peeked up through the attic entrance and flinched at the sight of her daughter's emotional drainage.

She entered the attic and maneuvered around the countless old classics littered on the floor. Catalina neatly stacked some unused notebooks and doodle pads and moved them to the side so she could sit down. "Come on, tell momma what's wrong." She pulled Catherine's head into her lap and gently ran her fingers through the dark brown curls.

"Niente è sbagliato." Catherine said softly and nuzzled into her mom's lap and tapped against her knee. "Just because I impulse bought a buncha books and I'm blasting my sad song playlist doesn't mean anything." She chuckled softly causing her mother to roll her eyes.

"Well that's what you said with Zoey, then again with that Ruby girl, also that Juno girl." Catalina raised her hand before her daughter could interject. "The first time." She sighed and shook her head. "So. Are you gonna tell me who's the girl and why you're so worked up about?"

Catherine shot up and turned towards her mother. "I- there is no girl! I may repeat a lot of things, but I meant it when I said I was done with all those little flings and heartbreaking shit! It's not the real me!" She huffed out and crossed her arms.

"Yeah I know, but no one mass buys a bunch of old classics such as 'Divine Comedy' and 'The Iliad' alongside books such as 'Jealousy' and 'Master your Emotions'." She squinted at Catherine's computer and chuckled. "How desperate do you have to be to go so far as to look at Apollo's love life?"

Catherine deflated and leaned against her mom. "I think..I get it now." She sighed softly. "Like this time feels different. I don't know what to do...what if I break her heart?"

"If you really do love her, you won't actually worry about that, dear." Catalina placed a gentle kiss on Catherine's forehead. "I know you may be feeling apprehensive about pursuing this person, considering your past relationships and all, but if you truly do love her, then I honestly don't see anything that's stopping you from pursuing her. I know you have a good heart and you're afraid to show it, but if you love her, I know that you'll trust her enough to let a little bit of your walls down around her. You care for her, and she cares for you too. So, nothing's stopping you, conejito. I just hope this girl makes you happy."

Catherine sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I just..I'm scared. She's just so nice and sweet a-and I really do love her. What if she hates me for having so many exes or like, I don't know, what if she isn't into nerds!" She nervously chewed on her knuckle only for her mom to pull her hand away. "Sorry…"

Catalina shook her head. "C'mon, you need to do something other than read a bunch of books and take notes." She stood and pulled Cathy up with her. "We're gonna make cookies." She chuckled as Catherine's face lit up. "See? Already feeling better."

They both climbed down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. Thankfully it was empty and clean. Catalina raised an eyebrow and looked at her daughter who nervously glanced away.

"Anyways, go and get the dry ingredients." Catalina pushed her daughter toward the cabinets and headed towards. She quickly grabbed two small bottles with 'AE' and 'VE' on them, eggs, sugar, brown sugar, chocolate chips, and butter. She placed everything onto the kitchen island and sighed, thankful she had not dropped anything. "If only I held you like that." She chuckled softly.

"What?!" Catherine turned around and furrowed her eyebrows. She placed the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon on the kitchen island and glared at her mother. "So you're directly responsible for my shitty love life? I'll be seeing you court." She giggled playfully, then pulled open the drawer in front of her and took out two wooden spoons and a sieve. "Here you can do the yucky- are those almonds?"

Catalina looked at the jar in her hand and back to her then nodded slowly. "Yeah, for the cookies. Hey don't make that face, they're good!" She rolled her eyes and put the jar to the side. "Fine no almonds, but we have to put something else in these cookies. No one likes plain cookies."

Catherine shrugged and began measuring out all of the ingredients. "Well, we can add marshmallows." She hummed softly while sifting the dry ingredients as her mother mixed in the wet ingredients. "I really hope these marshmallows don't catch fire in the span of 10 minutes." She snickered and slowly added both mixtures to one bowl and mixed them together.

Catalina shrugged and sprinkled some flour on the counter and dumped the cookie dough onto the counter. "Here roll it out and cut it up. My old lady arms can't roll that damn thing out." She handed the rolling pin and went to the sink.

Catherine shook her head and laughed as she began rolling down the mountain of cookie dough. She glanced out the side of her eye and smiled. "Oh, hey Kitty! Do you got any cookie shape requests?" Her cheeks heated up the longer she stared at the shorter girl.

Kitty smiled softly. "Oh yeah! Do you think you can make some little heart ones for me?" She looked up at the taller woman. Kitty had her usual twinkle in her eye. Granted, it only ever showed up when she did something she enjoyed, but Kitty enjoyed a lot of things. "Hey stay still." She stood up on her tiptoes and wiped a smudge of flour off of Catherine's cheek. "Well that's all, I'd love to help but I got homework to do!"

Catherine stood there in awe, watching the other girl walk away happily. She shook her head and turned around and squinted at her mother. "I don't wanna hear!" She blushed deeply and covered her ears before Catalina could start gushing. "Lalalala! I'm not listening, lalala!"

Catalina rolled her eyes and pulled her daughter into a hug. "You're such an idiot but you're my idiot." She kissed the top of her daughter's head and ruffled her dreadlocks. "Now it's time to get to cutting."