I love Farmtale Sans a lot. But also, living in the country isn't always sunshine cottagecore magicalness. It can suck. But... here's some unromantic country stuff that I think could actually be very romantic when you're with him.
As mentioned before, the two of you end up spending a lot of time in the car together. The nearest big store is a ways away, after all. On those long drives, the radio often cuts out for long periods of time... it can feel pretty lonely, especially at night. But when you're together, it's alright. You sleep with your head against the passenger window, your coat over you, holding his unoccupied hand through the quiet.
He gets a call in the middle of the night from someone else further into the village that there's a surprise rain shower coming through tomorrow, and they need to move a lot of kit indoors ASAP before it hits. He grumbles, but heads out anyway.
... An hour or so later, in the middle of a dark cold field, he sees your flashlight rushing over to him. You have a flask of steaming soup and a tupperware box with a slice of hot pie inside. Despite your fear of the dark and bugs, you made your way out to him. He feels himself fall in love even harder, and just like that, the task takes half the time.
When your home is as exposed as country houses can get, the wind can be really fucking loud. Especially if your room is on the windward side of the house. It can sound like a train is driving over your bedroom at night. You decide to sleep on the couch, both because you can't sleep and because you're nervous about how loud it is; it's difficult to rest when you can literally hear the roof rattling and the shingles jumping up and down.
Sans, even though his room is absolutely fine, opts to join you. He lights the fire and gets comfy with you, then stays awake so you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. You wake up the next morning snuggled up to his chest.
The weather is horrendous pouring rain, cold and damp and treacherously muddy. But the animals have to be fed regardless of the weather. You both go out into the early morning darkness, feeding the chickens and cows, checking on the crops, making sure nothing is leaking, hands almost frozen. You come home absolutely drenched in a thick mixture of rain and mud. And as much as Papyrus complains, refusing to let either of you past the porch until you strip all your dirty items... he's got hot lunch waiting for you both, dry pyjamas and thick socks hanging up over the stove, warm blankets on the couch.
There's nothing like the feeling of sheltering from a tempest in someplace cosy. Even if the power does keep going out.
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husband — lee seokmin | 1,220 words | fluff
this one is dedicated to lee seokmin's smile :)
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
"no."
"what do you mean, no?" dokyeom asks, manspreading. the exasperated eyebrow raise you give him doesn't deter him in the least.
"no, i'm not sitting on your lap to watch a movie."
"there's not much place on this sofa, though," he says, spreading his arms along the back of the sofa to emphasize his point. he really can take up a lot of space if he wants to.
"the floor is all free real estate, as far as i can tell."
"there's no way i'm letting my sweetheart sit on the floor when i'm on the couch."
"this is how your sweetheart can do it," you say, simply sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of him and fumbling with the remote to find some good movie. you barely have two seconds of peace before he scoops you up in his arms and pulls you onto himself, so you're exactly where you said you wouldn't be.
"dokyeom."
he gasps. "my whole name?"
"be thankful i didn't call you seok—"
"can't hear you," he says loudly, one hand coming up to your mouth to stop you from saying his real name. you shut up for a second.
"ew," he says a moment later, taking his hand away from your mouth like it's on fire. "you licked it!"
"be thankful i didn't bite it."
"i'm thankful for you! isn't that enough?" he whines, hand returning to its place around your stomach.
your retort dies on your lips. you're still not used to how open dokyeom is with his words.
"i guess," you say. the remote lies forgotten on the floor.
"so," he says, turning you to face him, "why don't you want to sit on me?"
"i paid for this sofa, silly. i should be able to sit on it if i want to."
"but you know you don't have to pay anything for me. i mean, unless you want to," he adds with a sleazy wink, and it makes you laugh.
"what about functionality?"
"what about it?"
"the sofa's soft. sitting on you is like sitting on a rock."
"all that workout and you call me a rock? at least i'm warm!"
"okay, but what about a headrest when i need one?"
dokyeom guides your head down to his chest. "how's this?"
"hm. your heart's beating a bit too fast."
"that's because you're so close to me."
you let out a fake groan. "why did i have to get stuck with the cheesiest husband in the world?"
the moment you actually hear your own words, even mortified doesn't begin to cover what you're feeling. dokyeom lowers you down to the sofa and sinks to the ground on his knees, looking at you like you've given him the best gift he could've ever asked for.
"stop looking at me like that," you say, but you're not trying to bury your face into the fabric of the sofa. part of you wants to know what he thinks about your words.
he has that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that's burned into your eyelids even when you close your eyes. it never fails to make you smile.
"i'm not looking at you like anything," he says, but one of his hands has snaked up to your face, tracing your cheek.
"you look like you're in love. it's embarrassing."
"you're the one that called me your husband. that's worse."
"is it?"
dokyeom looks at you with a softer smile before he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. you loop your hands around his neck, pulling him back in for more. you never do get enough of him, even on days you spend all twenty four hours by his side.
"i think," dokyeom says when he pulls back, having kissed you to the point where you've forgotten your name for a few moments, "being married to you would be the worst thing ever."
"yeah?" you ask, tugging him up to his feet and letting all his weight fall on you. it's not often that he lies on top of you, and you're reminded of how strong he really is.
"mm. you'd have to change your last name to match mine."
"what if i don't want to?"
"i could always take yours."
you smile. "oh? and how would the wedding be?"
"we could run away and get married, just the two of us."
"and what, have seungkwan curse us for the rest of his life?"
"our lives," he corrects, propping his chin up on your chest. "we could have a beach wedding, though. or a wedding at our dining table."
"who'd be your best man?"
dokyeom shudders. "not facing that headache till we actually get to it. your turn. what kind of a ring do you want?"
you pretend to think. "an adamantium one."
"funny," he deadpans. "i was thinking we could get married on the moon."
"you were thinking about marrying me?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.
"isn't that what we've been talking about all this while?"
"what else would be terrible about being married to me?"
dokyeom is the one who pretends to think now, his chin digging into your collarbone. not that you mind. "i'd want to be around you all the time. i'd make you call me your husband every time we meet someone. i'd spend so much time trying to find houses we'd like. terrible, no?"
you press a kiss to his forehead. "horrifying. would you marry me if i asked you to, right now?"
he looks at you for a moment more before hiding his face in your neck. "i hid something in the knife drawer that says yes," he says, voice muffled.
"the knife drawer?" you ask. "of all the places you could possibly..." dokyeom really does have the annoying ability to steal your breath, both with his kisses and words; your words dry up when you realize what exactly 'something' means.
"i learned it from the boys," he says, looking at you again, all proud. "you never know where to expect the mafia to hide their money."
you're not listening to him. it's the way he says it so easily. you were just joking about it, not even intending to say it, but the fact that he's had it in there since who knows when...
"kyeom, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"
dokyeom looks up at you with wide eyes. "are you saying that just because i have a ring for you?"
you snort, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "no, silly. i love you. i know i don't say it enough."
"you don't need to," he says, gentle. "i know you do."
both of you lie like that for a while, your hand gently scraping through his hair.
"so if i ask you to marry me right now..." you say again, because you just want to hear his voice.
"ten more minutes and that ring is yours. but it's not adamantium."
"what a shame."
you can feel his grin against your skin. "what did we even want to watch?"
you can't be bothered to remember. "i don't know, but i want to watch you."
dokyeom snorts. "stop trying to be cheesier than your own husband."
you don't think you're ever going to tire of hearing that.
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