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twogyuu · 1 year

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Head in the Clouds (Landing Among Stars)

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're busy. He's busy. Doctors are busy. Pilots are busy. But somehow, he always found time for you - including pretending to be your boyfriend for your cousin's wedding.

Genre: Fluff, crack, minor angst(?), pilot!Wonwoo 😭💔, resident doctor!reader, mentions of an unspecifed ex, implications of dj!Johnny Suh, fake dating, friends-to-???

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, food, photo is not my own (screenshotted it from the RWY Special Behind SVT YT video. LMAO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE BEHINDS PLEDIS🙏🏻)

WC: ~4.5K

Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @sadkidwarexpert @rockwidthyou @woozarts @wonuziex @bibinnieposts @nanamioo @joonsytip

A/N: Remember when I said it's not my fault if you see this in the next 24h? This is 50% the fault of @wisteria-woo 😭💔 and 50% Wonwoo's fault. It's Friday past midnight - I should be out with friends, maybe studying more, maybe working on fixing Reel Love, finishing that Seungkwan drabble, maybe starting the first few paragraphs of that Hao crazy rich asians!au fic, or maybe writing about Jeonghan and Wonwoo fighting over cereal - but NO - I'm sitting here with Wonwoo fever 🥲

Anyways- IT'S WONWOO'S ANATOMICAL LEFT eyebrow, not his right 😭 Though I re-watched the video and he depresses his anatomical right eyebrow so it just looks like he lifted his left one whyamievenlookingthathard

This is purely self-indulgent and unedited (per usual). I am so ill rn and in DISTRESS - tumblr made this so much harder to post than it needed to be 😭. I am sorry for blowing up your notifications . . . I also sincerely apologize if none of this makes sense.

GOOD NIGHT 😭

Feel free to make fun of me swinging in a direction that isn't even one of my usual biases @aceofvernons.

“Maybe he’s right, Wonwoo.”

Your voice grew small until it fell silent, finally pausing in your rambling. He gave you a minute to collect your thoughts, busying himself with adjusting his navy blue double breasted suit jacket on the white plastic hanger. His fingers grazed against the uneven surface of the gold metallic buttons with delicate engravings as he slipped them through the slits. Though seemingly engrossed in straightening his jacket, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you sulking on the edge of his full-sized bed in the other room. Your camel-colored peacoat would still be shrouding your shoulders that were rounded in a slump, your purse still slung across your body. Your index finger was probably hooked loosely around the silver keychain he bought you for your birthday last year. Maybe your eyes were bleary, gaze falling on his cream colored carpet. A sharp inhale, followed by a heavy exhale.

Stepping back, eyes scanning his jacket for a speck of dust, he called to you, “He really said that?” Wonwoo reached to adjust the shoulder pads, “That you never have time for him? You spent all your days off with him the last time I checked – this is the first time I’ve seen you in-person . . . three months?”

“I know,” you mumbled, your voice muffled. Your hands must be covering your face.

“You’d think he’d know what he’d be getting into, dating a resident doctor, huh?” Wonwoo asked rhetorically.

The only response he got was a small ‘puff’ that echoed into his walk-in closet – the sound of your back meeting his comforter. Wonwoo chortled softly to himself. Satisfied by the look of his suit jacket, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks and made his way out. The right corner of his lips curled into a small smile as you came into view just as he expected: Flopped onto his bed with your legs dangling over the edge, still dressed in your outerwear, hands covering your face.

“I’m gonna end up lonely as fuck because of my job, god,” you groaned, “Why did I think it’d be a good idea to be a doctor all things considered? I’ve been fucking up my left and rights since second year of medical school, I work six out of seven days of the week, I’m probably vitamin D deficient with how little I see the sun – there are no windows in that closet of an office they give residents in the hospital, it’s dark when I arrive, the sun is already setting when I leave. The only good thing out of this is that I don’t have to dress up for work and can live in scrubs – for now.”

“Aaaww,” he cooed teasingly, “You won’t be lonely.” Leaning against the white painted door frame, Wonwoo unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt, rolling them up his arms. “You got me.”

“That’s different,” you deadpanned. “You’re missing the point, Wonwoo.”

“And you’re being dramatic,” he berated, running his hand through his jet black locks to loosen the tight and groomed style he was sporting earlier. “Who needs a man when you’re going to be a six-figure-making physician in a year or two? You can take care of yourself.”

“I’ll be fine in two years maybe, but not in two months,” you sighed, pushing yourself up from his bed.

“You’re gonna let a mere man ruin your next two months?”

“No – I mean, yes, I’m gonna mope because I’m a little heartbroken and I really thought he was . . . it.”

“Oh god,” Wonwoo scoffed. You weren’t looking, but he pointed at you anyway. “For the record, I told you from the beginning I never liked him.”

“I told my mom about him,” you blurted.

Wonwoo fell silent, his lips pursing into a small o-shape. This was no laughing matter now. You lived several miles away from home and have been doing so since starting medical school when he met you through a mutual friend. It wasn’t that you weren’t close to your family, but because of your busy schedule, there were only select parts of your life you ever told your mom. You were a listener more than you were a talker – opting to listen to your mom’s anecdotes of what’s been going on at home rather than sharing your day-to-day at the hospital over your weekly phone calls. Not to mention, Wonwoo recalled you told him that your parents were rather invested in your love life, stuck in a traditional mindset, terrified that you’d become a spinster unless you brought home a promising candidate before you hit your early thirties. Though Wonwoo could respect it, he wasn’t sure he could ever quite understand your parents’ urge to get you married so quickly, let alone if it was with the wrong person.

“My cousin’s getting married in two months and I’m flying back home for the wedding,” you explained, “He . . . was supposed to be my plus one . . . meet my cousin, my brothers . . . meet my parents.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly, eyes falling to the side and gazing out his bedroom window. The two of you were getting that serious. He was surprised you hadn’t burst into tears already – perhaps you already did or you were just a tougher cookie than he thought.

“Have you told your parents about your break up?” Wonwoo inquired.

You shook your head slowly. “I . . . I-I’m scared,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “They seemed so . . . ecstatic to meet him? And they told all my aunts and uncles I’m dating some hot shot . . . I’d hate to take that away from them – or worse,” your eyes widened at your sudden epiphany, “I get scolded for being dumb and letting a boy play me.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brows together, the last comment catching him off-guard. “He didn’t and it wasn’t your fault though?”

“It takes two tango, so maybe it was,” you noted, “And my parents don’t see it that way.”

“It wasn’t and they won't.”

“Maybe.”

Wonwoo sighed seemingly hopelessly, pushing himself off the doorframe. His footsteps shifted side to side as if he was contemplating something – uncomfortable even. The space between your brows dipped slightly as you narrowed your eyes, continuing to observe him. As if the room was suddenly feeling stuffy, he let out a long and heavy breath – not out of fatigue or relief, but rather . . . nerves? His hand came up to tug at the black knot at his throat. It must've been tight because his (anatomical) right eyebrow quirked in distress, his fingers flexed harshly as he pulled it loose – you were able to make out almost each tendon running along his metacarpals.

“Date me instead,” Wonwoo stated firmly.

You blinked at him owlishly. “W-what?”

Pulling the shorter end out from behind the black piece of silk came undone, falling limp in his hand. His thumb and index finger came up to unclasp the opaque plastic button below his Adam’s Apple that bobbed up and down as he gulped down the invisible lump forming in his throat.

“I’ll go with you to the wedding,” Wonwoo continued, his eyes flickering from the tie in his hand and back to you. “As your plus one.”

“D-don’t you have work?” you stammered, still processing his offer, “Planes to fly? Places to go?”

He tilted his head to the side nonchalantly, turning back around to re-enter his closet. “I’ll rearrange my schedule to ask for vacation time off – fly as a passenger for once.”

“But –”

“When’s the date?”

. . . .

And so that was how you found yourself here, dressed to the nines in a flowy lavender silk evening gown with Wonwoo’s warm (and surprisingly smooth) hand wrapped around your own sweaty fingers. His grip wasn’t too tight, but not too loose – comfortable, if you will. Visible and connected enough to show that you weren’t single, but also not squeezing the life out of you to make it obvious that the two of you were trying to hide a bigger secret. Your cheeks ached from grinning so widely in front of your parents, hoping they’d buy your fake love story with your handsome friend.

On the contrary, Wonwoo was seemingly a natural at this. He looked almost no different from his daily uniform: Sans the heavy navy blue jacket, he wore a crisp white collared shirt with black detailing on his (anatomical) right shoulder paired with a pair of black slacks. The shirt fit him nicely, slightly loose around the shoulders and tucked in tightly at his waist, highlighting his broad shape. Shoulders rounded back, his usually messy bangs slicked back neatly to the side exposing his forehead and better highlighting his sharp alluring eyes, he stood tall and confident. Despite how simply he dressed relative to other guests and against the extravagant gold and blue decorations, he stood out. A genuine and warm smile played on his lips as he greeted your parents.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” he bellowed, pulling away his hand from your father and bowing his head slightly at them both.

You could tell from the way your mother’s mouth was held agape and her eyes were lit up like fairy lights lining the walls, she was an absolute goner for him Wonwoo.

“So, uh,” your father grunted, eyes zeroing in on your intertwined hands. He waved a finger between the two of you, “How long have the two of you been together?”

Wonwoo turned to look at you and because you felt obligated to in order to simulate chemistry between the two of you, you did too. He took you by surprise though – his gaze a little too loving, the small curve of his lips into a shy smile a little too affectionate.

Your breath hitched; the story the two of you rehearsed on the airplane ride here got trapped in the back of your throat. His stare was hypnotizing as if he turned your brain into mush.

“Gonna tell them or should I?” Wonwoo whispered.

The saccharine in his voice was heart fluttering – you weren’t sure if you wanted to vomit or laugh right there. Frankly, you were growing concerned if you were going to be able to pull this off. You still had half of the cocktail hour and the rest of the reception to go.

“I-I, um, w-we,” you fumbled, tearing your gaze from him. You let out a breathless chuckle, racking your brain for the timeline of your fake relationship.

Tugging you close to his side, Wonwoo turned back to your parents, grinning. “We’ve been friends for almost four years now – met through a mutual friend, but have been seeing each other for the last year and a half.”

“Oh,” your mother hummed softly. “Why didn’t you tell me he was one of your friends? If I had known you had someone so handsome in your life–”

“Mom!” you protested.

“What? I’m just stating facts,” she replied.

Wonwoo gave your hand a tight squeeze, a deep, breathy chuckle bellowing from his chest. “Y/N’s . . . a little shy when it comes to how we got together. No one really expected it – not even us.”

“And what is it that you do for a living then, son?” your father jumped to the next question.

“Dad,” you deadpanned. Of course, he’d ask about Wonwoo’s occupation.

“A pilot, sir,” Wonwoo replied without hesitation.

Your dad raised his eyebrows, nodding fervently with an impressed look crossing his face. “You must have great eyesight.”

“I can see a thing or two,” Wonwoo joked in return.

“Well,” your mother finally intervened. You saw her waving at one of your aunts from afar. She wrapped a hand around your father’s arm, gently ushering him to move. “It was lovely meeting you finally Wonwoo – can’t believe she kept you hidden from us for so long, but Y/N’s father and I have a few more guests to greet. We’ll see you both around, and please, do enjoy yourself!”

Wonwoo and you bid your parents goodbye, waving at them mostly to watch until they were out of earshot and you could finally stop fake smiling.

As your lips flattened, Wonwoo took you by surprise. As if it was second nature, his hand slipped from your own, snaking past the small of your back and settling on your hip. Heat crept onto your cheeks as he pulled you close into his side. His lips grazed against the shell of your ear – you could feel him smiling, his warm breath raising the hairs on the back of your neck. From afar, anyone would think of it as two lovers whispering sweet nothings to one another. However, a stern warning came instead.

“If you keep grinning like you shit your pants, someone’s gonna catch onto us tonight,” Wonwoo whispered. He pulled away and glanced back at you. It terrified you how easily it was for him to smile so . . . warmly at you, like you were the apple of his eye – the love of his life. “Relax, hm?”

You swallowed harshly, your throat growing dry. You nodded – your face still straight nonetheless. He rested against the granite bar, spinning you to face him, his hand never leaving your waist once. Teasingly, he brushed the tip of your nose with his finger before letting both hands now rest on your hips.

“You’re freaking me out,” you muttered.

He tilted his head coyly at you. “Just doing my job as your,” he paused, his voice dropping an octave, leaning towards you, “fake,” he leaned back, his voice returning to its normal volume, “boyfriend.”

“This isn’t your first time being recruited as a fake date, is it?” you folded your arms across your chest. “Bet – Younghee invited you out when she needed a plus one back in January to her aunt’s renewal of vows.”

His nostrils flared ever so slightly, his nose ridge crinkling, eyes disappeared into crescents as his smile widened. Your heart pumped erratically, the memory of that one drunken night where you told him you liked this particular smile. He had claimed it manifested this way because his eye muscles were attached to his nose muscles.

“Seungkwan went with her if you don’t remember,” he explained. One of your relatives must’ve breezed by behind you, watching because Wonwoo’s eyes tracked after someone. He continued, indifference in his tone, “I just . . . really like you.”

With a heavy sigh, you patted his shoulder, slipping your hand back into his – ignoring the way your chest tightened at just how well your hands slotted into one another. “Uh-huh, yeah,” you did your best to hide the squeak in your voice, turning to face forward towards the tall linen-draped tables, “We have a long night ahead of us, so keep it up, buddy.”

. . . .

The evening flew by surprisingly fast without an issue – well pertaining to your fake relationship that is. Cocktail hour ended smoothly, Wonwoo meeting a few more of your cousins. No one batted an eye when you accidentally spilled some champagne down the skirt of your dress – their attention was locked on your handsome date as he indulged in their questions about his job as a pilot and where in the world he’s visited. You rejoined your parents and your younger brothers during dinner. Surprisingly, Wonwoo bonded really well with them, finding common interest in FPS video games and anime shows (you didn’t even know Wonwoo was into anime). A few of your aunts came by during cake cutting and desserts to meet him as well. You chuckled at the way he didn’t have to do much to charm them, merely nodding and smiling as they rattled off about how much they’ve already heard about him from their kids, themselves, and their own families, wishing their own kids brought back someone as dashing as him. There was a hint of jealousy and jab in their words, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

First dances were danced, bouquets and garters were tossed, and the lights of the reception hall were finally dimmed for a lively evening. Guests flooded the dance floor as the DJ, a lanky young man dressed in a snapback and a heavy black jacket with zipper detailing on the pockets, turned on a heavy dance beat and colorful flashing lights. A set of large headphones around his ears, the DJ (one of your other cousin’s boyfriend you’d later learn), bopped on his own as he twisted the various knobs on his beat board. Neither of you quite the dancer, Wonwoo and you stayed in your seat, watching your cousins, sober and drunk, shimmy on the floor.

“I’m gonna go get something to drink,” you announced after a little while. You peered at him through your lashes. “You want something?”

Wonwoo leaned forward by your ear. “Just water,” he shouted over the beat.

You nodded, gathering the skirt of your dress as you got out of your chair. On your way over, someone caught your elbow. You spun around, pleasantly surprised to see Rina, one of your childhood friends you grew up with, greeting you with a bright smile.

“Hey!” she squealed while linking your arms.

“Hi!” you replied. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all night.”

“I don’t blame you,” she chirped as the two of you reached the bar counter. She was quick to hail down the bartender, requesting a green tea shot. You asked for Wonwoo’s glass of water and your lemonade.

Rina’s eyes flickered behind you. “Been busy introducing everyone to tall and handsome,” she walked her index and middle finger up your forearm playfully, smirking when she noticed the sheepish smile gracing your face. “Heard he was a friend turned lover? A pilot too – caught yourself a good one finally.”

“He’s alright,” you muttered.

“Are you kidding?” Rina scoffed, “If a man that handsome looked at me like the way he looks at you, I’d melt right here and now – I wouldn’t give a damn it’s my cousin’s wedding they’re cleaning me up at.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, taken aback by her comment. Your mind was already flitting through the memories of the day with Wonwoo – how did he look at you exactly?

“What?” you shook your head, “You’re being dramatic.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she held her fist to her mouth to mimic an announcer with their mic – she used to do this all the time in high school to tease you. “This is why they say love is blind.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to use that phrase,” you chuckled.

The bartender made his way over with your drinks. You both offered him a small thank you and tip, before parting from the counter and continuing your conversation.

“It’s not,” Rina lifted the opaque mint green liquid to her lips, “But you must be really blind not to see how his eyes go all soft and heart-shaped whenever he looks at you.”

He’s just naturally a good actor.

She tilted her head back, downing the drink in one ago. With a satisfied sigh, she turned back to you, a silly grin on her face. “Seriously though, I’m really happy for you – he seems to really like you.”

But it’s fake.

“Thanks,” was all you could say. You gave her a tight smile – though, Rina could tell it didn’t quite reach your eyes. The two of you slowed to a stop a few tables away from your date.

She narrowed her eyes coyly at you. “Just . . .” she clamped down on your shoulder and gave you a firm squeeze, “Think twice before you let him go.” Rina turned, her body perpendicular to your own, her eyes set on Wonwoo who was peering over curiously. She waved at him, offering him a warm smile. He returned the gesture, eyes then flickering to you.

“That,” she formed a rectangle with her fingers, “is a man in love, sweetheart.” Rina turned to you, giving your arm one last firm squeeze. “It was good to see you,” she winked, “With him.”

Not a single drop of alcohol in you that night, your mind started to spin as you watched her frolic between the tables like a happy little girl in a field of daisies, joining her friends back to the dance floor. Your legs suddenly felt wobbly – you worried you wouldn’t be able to make it back to Wonwoo in time without spilling your drinks.

There was no way in hell Wonwoo could, let alone would, love you by choice. Yes, he loved you as a friend, but no more, no less. He’s been by your side since your second year of medical school. He’s wiped your tears (and your snot) when you feared you would fail your board exams. He’s seen you at your wildest, handing out your number to strangers like gum when you were tipsy at the bar. He’s picked you up from the hospital when you could hardly open your eyes, the stress of an overnight shift hanging heavy on your limp body. Not in a single one of those moments, did anything he did ever suggest he could possibly be in love with you.

Rina was just drunk.

She wasn’t thinking rationally – just seeing things because her vision was going blurry.

Even if Wonwoo liked you . . . what did that mean for you?

“Everything okay?” Wonwoo asked slowly as you settled into your seat. His hand settled into the small of your back and for once that evening, it wasn’t soothing – it was burning hot. You jumped at his touch. “Whoa.”

“I’m fine,” you quipped, swiping at the invisible hair in your face. You shoved his glass of water into his hand. However, rather than drinking it, he placed it to the side; that same hand coming to caress your own.

“Uh . . . did your friend say something?” he asked. “Something you didn’t like?”

Yes – but you might have liked it.

“No,” you lied.

“You’re lying,” he squinted at you.

Fuck – were you just that easy to read or did he just . . . know you that well?

“It’s . . . umm . . . getting hot in here,” you chuckled half-heartedly, “I’m gonna go get some fresh air, okay?” You moved out of your seat, breathless suddenly. “J-just stay here – please.”

Wonwoo frowned, watching you back up towards the grand doors. Normally, he’d respect your boundaries and let you be. You were the type to need space when you were distressed – you knew to come to him when you needed to. However, right now, that didn’t seem like the right thing to do as he watched you spin around, bundling up your dress in your fists so you wouldn’t trip as you dashed into the red carpeted halls. He stood up taking the widest strides he could to reach you without drawing attention.

Standing in the wide doorway, his head whipped left and right, frantically searching for you. He caught sight of your dress rounding a corner and took off jogging after you. It was fortunate you weren’t the best at walking in heels – in combination with his long legs, he caught up with you quickly, reaching for your elbow. Breathlessly, Wonwoo pulled his weight back to slow you down, causing you to stumble into his chest (rather un-elegantly might you add). He was quick to catch you, setting you against the wall. When you tried to duck and escape, Wonwoo was a beat faster, bringing his left arm up to cage you in.

“Can we not be cliche and do this here?” you complained.

Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, ducking his head to try and catch your downcasted eyes. “Mind telling me what’s going on then?”

Your breathing grew shallow and uneven. With how quiet the surroundings were, you wondered if he could hear the erratic beat of your heart like you could. It boomed in your ears, drowning out the bass of the party a couple doors down.

“Hey,” he tried again, his voice softer.

Wonwoo was good to you – too good now that you think about it.

Patient.

Caring – even if he teased you a lot.

He listened.

He laughed when your jokes weren’t that funny.

And the scariest part?

He made time for you – pilots were busy.

They flew everywhere: Hong Kong, Paris, LA, Osaka, Milan, Dodoma.

But when you needed him, he was there – hell, even changed his work schedule to accompany you to a wedding in a small city with no attractions (except for the fountain that mimicked the one in Rome) and voluntarily subject himself to the scrutiny of your family.

Even now when you were tearing down the hall, he was tender in drawing the answers out of you.

In the one in a thousand chances Rina was right, how could you confront him now? You weren’t even sure of your own feelings. Had enough time passed since your break up? Did you want him in that way? Or were you too just caught up in the moment?

Slowly, but fearfully, you willed yourself to look up at him. Eyes wide boring into his own, you noted the concern that was etched into the space between his brows, the slightest frown downturning the corner of his lips.

“Would it be insane to think,” you started softly, pressing your back flat against the wall. The plaster felt cool against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, curling your fingers into fists. “That you might . . . like me?” you gulped, “More than a friend?”

Wonwoo’s face was stoic at first, his eyes studying your face. They traced your features from your hairline to your black mascara coated lashes to the cute tip of your nose that he touched earlier that day, finally falling on your lips – the remnants of your lip gloss probably stained on the lip of the cup of lemonade you were sipping on earlier. He wondered if your lips tasted like the drink – sweet with a hint of bitterness from the lemons they were made of.

Gradually, his features softened. The dip between his brows rising again, a tender glint flashing in his brown irises. The corner of his lips finally curving up – his nose following suit. Like he’d always explain - the muscles of his face were all connected.

Technically, he wasn’t wrong.

Wonwoo leaned in close, his bangs that fell out of the slick tickling your lashes.

His voice low with a hint of rasp, he whispered, “Took you long enough.”

. . . .

Read the epilogue here :)

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #gonna go lay down #im so delusio-

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shutupheathersorryheatherr · 2 months

Text

"Birthday days"

Summery: a short Beomgyu x reader fic in celebration of his birthday! you two start celebrating a day early and its adorable and heartwarming-- the love between you two really shows. The type of love you give each other— whole heartedly and true. The playfulness and newness you too still have… all these things are all that matters approx: fifteen minute read

warningz/ info: kissing, established relationship, some cursing here and there, talking of food. reader gives beomgyu a bit of tough love and he loves it. reader is gn! and they cuddle. think thats about it! lemme know if I missed anything as always!

A/n: ok I know (or at least I hope) that beomgyu doesn’t see this but happy birthday you talented-in-literally-everything man! i think this is my first birthday fic but ugh he deserves the title lmao because in the words of that one song from destiny's child: I WANNA CARE FOR UUUU MAKE YOU DINNER AND DESSERT PUT YOUR DEWRAG ONNNN

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

You snort out a genuine laugh as he presses his nose into your neck. and he feels as if he was made to make you do so and to hear it. whatever you two were talking about before slips your mind as you ease into a comfortable silence with him. as talkative as the man currently breathing onto your neck is, it wasn't something you got often.

The silence is quickly filled, though, when he pokes his slimy little tongue out to lick your neck. You shrink back and laugh out a scream. "ah!" you laugh, "ew beomgyu! thats disgust-- get off--" he hums, arms trapping you to him, reveling in your body warmth as he was only in boxers and a sleep shirt. this was supposed to be a very special but normal none the less night before his birthday... full love, kisses, and good food. but of course neither of you could hold fast to that. you knew it from the beginning anyways

Thats when it happens-- he nips at your neck and you nearly squeal. "Beomgyu!" he doesn't say anything. then he goes for your collarbone. not enough to leave a mark but enough to get you smiling at him, his hair brushing your cheek as he pins you to him, legs tangled with his even though you two are standing. "Lemme go, Beomgyu!"

"I don't know a Beomgyu! I'll let you go if you say the right name and address me correctly!" you roll your eyes and scratch up his back. he shivers in the best way possible as you smile. "Can you let me go now... beom?" he huffs into your ear, but releases his grip a bit none the less. "... I'll except it..." you peel yourself away from him to look him in his pretty deep brown eyes. "what else would you have liked, you big baby?" you tease. he was so spoiled, but he was right, you barely ever call him by his actual name anymore. at least not in private. it soon shifting into terms of endearment. and even before you were together, you always had some sort of nickname or term to address him with.

"Baby would've been nice...." he fake sulks, "love, darling, honey, handsome, your treasure, light in your life. anything, really." you glance over at the clock. "Sure” you roll your eyes, “anything. we need to try to get to sleep, baby." he pouts, and all you feel like doing is kissing those lips until both of yours are numb. but he only grips you tighter at your bedrooms door, halfway in the hallway.

"Nope! I wanna hug hola bit more. and dont be so mean! its my birthday after all."

You smile into his hair as he finds his face nuzzled back into your neck. "Not for another five minutes its not." you chuckled. you two were joking, of course. you always liked to start celebrating each others birthdays as early as can be. and this time it just so happened to be at tonights dinner.

"Fine fine," he grins, "can I hug you all I want once it hits midnight?" he bargains. you playfully scoff. "I would barely consider this hugging." he puffs out warm air onto your neck and kisses the places he wiped at before, adding on your throat to peck. "But youve got yourself a deal."

You climb into bed, Beomgyu following you closely behind. You pull he covers up to your chin, settling into your designated spot as he does the to his (basically meaning wherever was right next to you) You turn to him, fully expected one of his teasing facing at you under the dim light, ready to do your nightly sleepy talk. he surprises you with his quick seriousness though.

"Happy anniversary." he pecks your lips, truly never being able to stay away from them for long.

It had been a full year since you'd confessed your true feelings for him on guess what? the night before his birthday. you hadn't planned on in much, but you knew you wanted to do it when the time felt right and had wanted to for a while. you were sure he had a thing for you too-- the way the air with him was always thick and slow moving as molasses told you quite enough. the little gremlin actually whined when you'd brought it up. "I was gonna say it your next birthday!" you simply laughed at him at the time. "well, you were taking too long." then it started what had to have been your first "argument" as a couple-- who was gonna take who out first.

"What about I take you out..." you remember him crawling closer to you on the floor, now in between you legs, "tomorrow, hm?" you chuckled. "dude!" you put a hand to your head and massaged your temples, so this was how it was gonna be? you just had to pick him? "its your birthday tomorrow!" He gets this dumb look on his face, eyes wide. "oh.... " "yeah 'oh'!" you shout at him, "its supposed to be about you!" "it can be about you too...! about us!"

He then tells you hes gonna confess to you your next birthday to make up for it. your first "argument" as a couple was interesting. and when you tell him that his face turns a shade red enough to challenge any tomato. "we're a couple?" he blinks, small smile hidden behind his lips. "you wanna be?" he lets his smile bloom in full and nods his head so fast you wonder how the boy isn't dizzy.

But what makes you dizzy is how long ago that all was. it felt like just yesterday you had kissed him for the first time, caught in between not letting go and and curling into yourself like a turtle to hide your beaming smile. you still felt the giddiness of it all as if this was your first week together. hm, you think, some things might never change. and to be honest, you were ok with that if it was this.

You two felt comfortable, haven fallen into a good routine like youve been together for ages. and sometimes it did feel like that even though it had only been a year. because of how god damn close you were before then. so close that sometimes you'd get teased that you looked like a couple. but even with all this, there was never a dull moment. somehow you two made everything into a new experience. a new good memory. it was never boring, even laying with him here in silence.

Oh... wait... in silence! you suddenly remembered that you hadn't responded to him yet, just staring at him. once you focus more on his face hes got his eyebrow raised and a knowing smile on his face, shaking his head slightly. "happy anniversary, my love." and you dont give him even a second to complain and whine about why you didnt call him that sooner before you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and swinging a leg over his hips. you glance at the time quickly. yup "And happy birthday."

You didn’t know what it was, or maybe you did because you loved him. But nonetheless the you the strongest magnetic pull towards him. Never before have you felt the way you do now. You think you’ll remember this night forever. Next to you, already half asleep, beomgyus thinking the same thing. And that no mater where you two were in life you’d have each other to just be happy with. Cause that’s the feeling among other wonderful ones that you brought each other— unbridled happiness.

And you two stay like this, until your breathing slowly matches and you drift into what was probably the same dream about the year before.... only slightly interrupted with a bear with a party hat but we won't talk about that.

The next morning and youve rushed around enough, making everything just right for your adoring boyfriend for the entire next five to seven business days. it was quite a bit of preparation, especially since you didnt wanna bang shit around and wake him up, but you feel accomplished none the less, hoping he'll like it.

Youve prepare quite the spread of his favorite breakfast items, all cooked and seasoned to perfection. as youre admiring your work, you hear a groan from the bedroom, beomgyu opening the door you shut gently earlier. hes rubbing his eyes and pouting, such a cute sight that all you wanna do so litter him with kisses. "What'r you doin?" he stands there, swaying back and forth because of the morning cold that's hit him. "I woke up and you weren't there. I wanted to hold you." hes a bit groggy but his senses are slowly coming to him and a wide smile graces his face, tops of his cheeks poking under his eyes.

You jog over to him, hands at your sides. and grab him by the shoulders, turning him in front of you and leading him to the breakfast table. he stops you and puts his hands on your shoulders, mimicking you, sly smile on his face. you stop in your tracks. "im sorry I wasn't there when--" "its ok and I thank you. but come to bed after we enjoy? just for another ten minutes. I didnt realize how much I missed morning cuddles with you." his eyes were more open now, he was more alert, but having him say that just put both of you into relaxation mode. "sure thing, baby." you smile at him. fuck he was so cute it didnt even make sense.

His sock clad feel pitter padder on the floor and you plop him down and he protests. "y-you you made all this?" he sounds a mixture of surprised and touched, though what else was he to expect? he knew you'd try to make this day the best ever-- even from the start. "this is too much. thank you but--" you put an eating utensil in his hand. "just try it please." he takes a bite of the thing closest to him., then another, than another. he makes a couple sounds of enjoyment then turns to you. "why'd you do all this?"

"I wanted you to love it! duh! im gonna make this day perfect for you and you better not expect anything less!" you yell and he chuckles. it was funny, just like the years past, especially last year, here you were, yelling sweet lovely things at him. tough love that made him gooey on the inside... and outside most of the time. he Stands up so quickly you barely have time to say that he better go sit down before his breakfast gets cold and to go enjoy his food.

He puts a firm but very gentle hand on where your neck and head meet thumb rubbing circles on your lower cheek. looks deep into your eyes then kisses you. "I love it, baby. thank you, really. it's all too much. come sit and enjoy it with me." he never fails to amaze you with how he can go from this goofball to something that makes your knees weaker than anything else he does, wanting to melt into him.

You sit next to him as always, knees touching in a way that somehow made two grown peoples hearts flutter like it was the first time. he sets down his utensil next to his plate, knowing better than to set down your hand and distract you from your food. he leans closer to you and kisses your cheek, an act so small and innocent but meaning so so so much to express his love and gratitude. you smile and he kisses closer to the apple of your cheek again, and again, and again.

Now hes barely leaving your skin before he goes in for another one, nose bumping into you and yeah, maybe the window is open but he doesn't really care if the neighbors are out. each little kiss on your cheek makes a small sound that makes you smile even wider. and here you two are, his birthday but you both are giddy as he keeps pecking your cheek over, over, and over. the food can wait another minute, the expressions of love an adoration are all that matters.

~end~

thanks for reading! If you liked it please leave some love like comments and or reblogging!

taglist: @itz-yerin

#beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x poc reader #beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu scenarios #tomorrow x together #ghosts writing #beomgyu had me fainting™️ (as always) on this one #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu txt

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bazooka-overkill · 2 months

Text

MR SANDMAN BRAINROT EUEUUUGGHHH

okay yay brainrot won the poll. also i might psot dragon chan headcanons requested by wallet becuz yaaaaaayyy

uhhh also i dont really gaf about timelines. so if something doesnt line up time wise. ignore it. shh

ermmm cw for child fighting!! mr sandman didnt have the best middle school experience

BAZOOKA'S THOUGHTS:

i need this man so badly PLS MR. SANDMAN ONE CHAAAAANCEEEE

who typed that omg…

GENERAL SANDMAN INFO (canon + headcanon)

full name: isaiah joseph banks

birthday: april 12th

age: 31

height: 6’5” (197 cm)

weight: 284 lbs (129 kg)

origin: philadelphia, PA, USA

gender: cis male

sexuality: bisexual (might be in denial lmao. men say theyre fighting demons and the demons r bisexuality LMFAO)

family:

victoria banks, mother, alive

george banks, father, alive

no siblings

HEAD CANON TIME:

- insomniac. goes between sleeping for 11 hrs during the day and not sleeping at ALL, also explains the eyebags in his TD

- incredibly horrible sleep schedule. stems from his childhood

- also stems from his childhood but not exactly the best at socializing w other people

- somehow is friends w glass joe. don't ask me how it works they just ARE (and they may be a little. fruity.)

- has one of those light up squishy things that u hit to change the color. yeah he either fucking SLAMS that thing or gently pats it when he wants to change it. it’s a bunny for anyone curious

- goes thru the 5 min nap to the 5 hour nap pipeline. “oh im just gonna take a small nap,” then wakes up w the blankets all over the fucking room, the god damn windows r open, he’s somehow upside down, etc etc

- him and the ref have beef after his TD victory animation

- was one of those kids that would be on his knees near some mulch playing w the roly polies on the playground. he'd have like 20 in his palms in 5 minutes

- if u catch him right when he wakes up (like. RIGHT right when he wakes up) he accidentally calls people “baby.” it’s a habit he picked up from his mom and he’s pushed it back into his mind, but it slips when he isn’t exactly thinking (totally not projecting my own habits onto him guys)

- adding to the above that the person who originally found this out was glass joe. take that as you will

- he sends some of his boxing money to his parents to support them (he’s a mamas boy LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE)

- doesn’t exactly search for a relationship, believes that when he decides he’s ready for one the right person will find him

- gets dragged into world circuit outings by either super macho man or aran ryan. on the rare occasion it’ll be soda. one time they all went bowling and sandman watched aran ryan throw a bowling ball like a fucking baseball and it broke the ceiling

- knows how to make a MEAN philly cheese steak. will be mentally freak out (positively) if someone mentions they’ve never had one before. if he wasn’t so stoic he would be jumping up and down and going “YAAAAAYYYYY🎉🎉🎉” becuz he finally gets an excuse to make one for someone

- has 100% almost broken the world circuit ring's ropes (see his intermission animation in contender)

- his locker in the locker rooms is either completely spotless or dented to hell and back. bonus points if theres like. a fake succulent in there or some shit

- luvs animals. takes pics of cool animals he sees anywhere

origin backstory thing under cur bc its long

origin:

isaiah joseph banks, known as his boxing alias mr. sandman, was born on april 12th to victoria banks and george banks in the Doylestown Hospital. born to loving parents, isaiah grew up as an only child.

isaiah learned to keep to himself and care for himself very early on, as both of his parents were usually at work. they worked hard to provide for isaiah and themselves, but always put their son first. they

the time they spent at work would be made up at home, albeit this time could never be fully made up for a young isaiah. he had spent more time with babysitters and nannies than his own parents. of course, isaiah knew his parents loved him, but all the bonds that were supposed to be formed hadn’t; the time frame had passed.

the time they did spend together was… memorable, really. not in a bad way, but every moment— every waking minute— made isaiah into the man he is today.

every night, when his mother was home early enough, she would sing him a soft lullaby. when she wasn’t, his mother had recorded this lullaby onto a tape for him to listen to. this lullaby was the song that made mr. sandman: Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes. it wasn’t a typical children’s lullaby by any means, but by god he loves that song— present tense intended.

then, a problem arose: school. starting middle school is one thing, but isaiah found out how cruel children could be.

isaiah was big, to put it lightly. five foot six at age 12 was enough ground for bullying, and being dropped off by a few different babysitters/nannies in the morning only added to the ammunition.

with how big he was, the bullying never went farther than verbal harassment. soft giggling every time he talked in class, glances from across the classroom, the bullying was subtle except for the occasional direct blow to isaiah.

his boxing interest began when he was thirteen, where his parents enrolled him in a self defense class that revolved around boxing and the sort. they had found out about the bullying from the babysitters, as isaiah had been reporting what they had been saying to him. there, young isaiah learned the basics of boxing: dodging, punching, and jabs had been added to his arsenal.

isaiah had always relished in the safety of knowing that he’d never get attacked at school, but unfortunately this was false.

it was brutal really; the poor boy had been caught in the bathroom and was attacked from behind, slammed his face into the sink, and assaulted from there. it took around two minutes for teachers to hear the commotion, but they were two minutes too late.

there, isaiah was brought to the hospital. no one truly knows the full extent of his injuries, minus his parents. if you look closely at mr. sandman, his top teeth are a little crooked.

nothing exactly eventful happened other than he moved schools, and everything was smooth from there.

his boxing career began to take off when he was 17, when he met an old babysitter of his— one who had taken care of him up until he was 13. he had become a boxing coach and offered to take isaiah up as a student.

if you ever ask mr. sandman in an interview about his boxing idol, he’d most likely say his coach. that man taught him nearly everything he knows, and even taught him the dreamland express move that mr. sandman is most known for, albeit modified.

mr. sandman picked up his alias when his coach told him about the WVBA and their boxers. it was almost inevitable he’d choose mr. sandman in honor of his mother.

he had his first fight at age 18, where it went swimmingly well. records of this fight have been lost to time, but, according to word of mouth, mr. sandman nearly killed the poor man.

i gotta be honest w u all idk how to continue this. umm mr sandman meets a wvba recruiter and then uh yah.😁😁😁

#punch out #punch out wii #mr sandman #mr. sandman #IM MR SANDMANS BIGGEST FAN IVE SAID IT BEFORE BUT IT STANDS #AAAAAARRAGHHH #half of this is me just projecting onto him #also can we talk abt his hairstyle in TD like. who is ur barber #bazooka-overkill #bazooka overkill #also maybe hourglass if u squint

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

one more chance (now that i have you.)

this is a birthday gift for @merotwst and a continuation of her request for the 1k event (here!!)

i had no idea your birthday was so close but i'd like to thank your other moots for unintentionally reminding me LMAO

i hope,,,, i write jamil well because i know full well you've read like every fic of him ever probably and im a bit nervous BUT i tried my best!! so yeah i hope your birthday goes wonderfully + sending jamil hugs for you C:< (he adores you completely btw he told me himself) (not w/o rolling his eyes though smh)

~~~~~

Jamil sighs, shutting the kitchen doors quietly. His sigh echoes off the kitchen walls and returns to him, distorted and unlike himself. He supposes he hasn’t truly been himself in a long time, though. Breathing in deep, he slides his hand behind his vest. The spot over his heart has a pocket, one Jamil sewed in himself when he received his uniform from the Headmage. He removes a wrinkled picture of your smiling face, your cheek squashed against Jamil’s as he smiled softly. Even though you were staring right at the camera, it’s obvious Jamil was looking at you. It was taken years ago. You would tell him he needs to let go.

It’s not that easy, though. And it never will be.

Jamil slips the picture back into his pocket and sighs again.

The dinner party Kalim threw tonight had the biggest feast Jamil had to prepare all year. His shoulders are aching and his brain is absolutely fired, but the weight of his history homework in his bag reminds him that the day isn’t done just yet. He pats the spot right above his heart as if asking you for just a little more strength, and slings his bag over his shoulder.

There’s no way he can think in Scarabia, and he certainly can’t hide out in his room. Kalim will come for him, and Jamil doesn’t want to deal with him right now. It’s best to head to the library. Nobody will be around at this time.

Sure enough, the hallways are empty and Jamil makes it to the library without an issue. He makes a beeline for a table in the back corner, tucked behind a tall bookcase that houses a myriad of books about curses.

How to Curse Your Enemies for Dummies. Curses! I’ve Done it Again! A Step-by-Step Manual on How to Not Curse Yourself When Attempting to Damn Your Foes. The Curse of The Poisonous Apple and Other Famous Dastardly Deeds. Top Ten Deadly Curses.

Jamil finds solace in the titles. They’re quiet, ancient, and soothing. They don’t scream or yell or demand anything from him. They simply exist in the place in which they were placed.

A true blessing. Jamil wishes he could do the same.

He places his bag gently on the floor beside his chair, opening it quietly. Jamil sticks his tongue out and furrows his brow, pulling out the required history textbook and his homework. Trein’s assigned essay will be a piece of cake for Jamil, but he knows Kalim will need revisions from him tomorrow before class. He always waits till the last minute.

Pushing the Asim heir out of his mind, Jamil settles in and begins to read. The prompt is simple enough—all he has to do is write a five-hundred-word essay about the similarities between two of the Great Seven. Jamil contemplates writing about The Great Sea Witch and The Sorcerer of the Scalding Sands, but that brings Azul to mind and Jamil has to suppress a shudder.

Why can’t those two annoyances stay out of his head for one minute?

Jamil buries his nose deeper into his textbook and rolls his eyes. Now he wishes he brought his headphones so he could block his thoughts out, but he was so eager to leave that he left them in his dorm—

He flinches when something heavy hits the ground a few rows down, a soft voice frantically shushing reaches his ears.

Are they shushing...the book?

Jamil stifles a quiet laugh. That must be what they're doing, because there’s no way anybody else is in the library this late. He looks up from his book when their footsteps approach where he’s sitting, brow furrowing in confusion. Surely they aren’t coming to this table—

They round the bookshelf, three thick looking books stacked in their arms. They aren’t looking at him at all, but he’s definitely looking at them because they just look so familiar and he can’t put his finger on it but oh, oh, wait a second. He knows exactly who they are and it’s so clear to him now, how could he not recognize them immediately?

He whispers his childhood friend’s name.

He whispers the name just to check if it really is you, back from the dead, or if it's a lookalike that came to haunt not only his dreams but his life too.

He whispers the name to see if it really is the person he took the blame for all those years back when he went to a carnival and had the best time of his life and oh, you’re staring at him now with those same eyes. You recognize the name and that’s enough for Jamil to spring out of his seat, eyes wide.

You yelp, flinching back at his sudden movement. Jamil hisses and jolts forward as the books in your arms start to topple over, grabbing the books to hold them steady, and wrapping an arm around your waist so you don’t fall.

If anyone were to walk in on the two of you, it would look like you’re dancing. Jamil stares and stares and stares, piecing together the little bits of you he remembers and he looks down your arm to see a band that doesn’t belong to Scarabia, which explains how he hasn’t seen you before because he knows if he’d found you before this he never would have let you go again.

“Jamil?” you whisper, tense and unblinking, “Um, I’m okay.”

“Yes, right.” he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm as he sets you back and on your own two feet, “It’s just...It’s been a while.”

“It has.” you murmur, placing your books on the table he was working on.

You’re avoiding him.

“What have you been up to?” he asks, hating the way his voice shakes as he hopes desperately that you won’t run away.

That question makes you break.

“I’m sorry.” you sniffle, dragging your hands over your eyes and it's only then Jamil realizes that you’re crying, “I should have fought harder for you! I can’t get over what happened all those years ago because you were the only one that understood me, and I cared about you so much but no matter how often I tried to sneak out or talk to my parents they wouldn’t let me see you! And when I talked to your parents during the day, they would always say you weren’t home, or that you were out with Kalim, and it was all my fault for dragging you along that day and I’m so sorry for doing that to you—”

“Hey.” Jamil murmurs, placing a gentle hand on top of yours, “Hey. It’s okay. We found each other, didn’t we?”

You look at him with watery eyes and furrow your brow, staring. He can’t imagine what you’ve gone through these past few years, holding this guilt so close to your heart. No wonder you’re a wreck.

“I don’t blame you.” he says, staring straight into your eyes, “I don’t blame you for anything. So don’t blame yourself. That was the most fun I’d ever had.”

“Really?” you smile a little, and Jamil leans forward as if he’ll be able to store that smile in his memory forever.

“Of course.” he smiles back, soft and affectionate, with all the love and tender understanding in the world.

You hesitate, ducking your head again.

You want to ask a question.

“What is it?” he asks, removing his hand from overtop of yours to give you space to think.

He really, really hopes you won’t ask him to leave.

“Can I hug you?” you whisper, almost as if you don’t want him to hear.

Jamil thought you’d never ask.

He opens his arms, a wordless response that you accept gratefully. You fall into him and he falls into you, too. Jamil hears you sob quietly into his vest, right above his heart where that old picture of you rests.

Even now, you always find your way to that spot, don’t you? Jamil supposes it’s only natural since you’ll always have a space there just for you.

#auburn's fics <3 #birthday gifts <3 #hey other moots ygys should tell me your birthdays and your favs btw #for science #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #disney twst #twst #jamil viper fluff #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper

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musicallisto · 6 months

Note

and also happy birthday!!!

sending in a 🐚 + i’m bi, I like reading, writing, gaming and yoga, turn ons include pet names and receiving the princess treatment, turns offs include not sticking up for me and being messy

my fandoms from your list are bridgerton and red dead redemption💗💗

thanks so much for running this event it is soooo fun!!!<3

ohhh princess treatment, you say... let me introduce you to the absolute kings of making you feel like you are the very center of the world...

please... you know it had to be him. not only because I'm a strong supporter of the way you write him and think you are the authority on anything arthur morgan related, but also and most importantly because have you seen the way he tends his horse? how gently he talks to her when he strokes her mane? i'm thinking soooo many thoughts and none of them pure

not only that, but he is generally so caring (especially high honor!arthur, who's my personal canon interpretation of him) with those he loves and even strangers who sense the goodness in him. that energy would definitely translate into any romantic relationship, even though he'll need to get over a lot of self-doubt and self-esteem issues to make it work

in a modern AU you'd get him into yoga for sure. i can only imagine how tired and sore all those muscles are from all the hiking around the woods and fixing up stuff in your farmhouse and cutting up wood and—he needs a break, but not one where he feels too idle and therefore like he's wasting time, and especially not one where he can't be surrounded by nature. which is how you convince him to give yoga a try, on a fine dewy morning in your frontyard

he thinks it's a little stupid at first—"how's all that twistin' and bendin' supposed to make me feel better?"—but you're really persuasive and he doesn't mind the sight of you in your yoga clothes either, to be honest

he'd find it really relaxing and a surprisingly effective way to connect with nature and his surroundings, but he'd still groan a little for good measure because he doesn't want to admit you were right too easily. that, and also the poor man is NOT flexible and he is struggling.

pet names!!!!! so!!!! many!!!! pet names!!!! "darlin'" this and "sweetheart" that. "honey" and "princess" and "GOOD GIRL"?!?!,!?,,?? in that deep, southern voice of his? i need to lie down.

of course he'd stick up for you anytime you need it, and even when you don't. he pledges his loyalty to the people he loves, to the bitter end, so he'll always always defend you, even when you're a little bit wrong, lmao, but that's only because he's a beloved himbo and he thinks you're always right and so smart

also this is a little bonus—I considered mary-beth as well, because i think you too would be so so cute and actual real life ladies together <3

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

now, if princess treatment had a name and a face... it would certainly bear a striking resemblance to that of benedict bridgerton.

the man is literally so smitten with you, there's nothing he wouldn't do to prove the depth of his affections. expect every grand gesture you've read about in the books; bouquets of your favorite flowers and countless portraits and blazing handwritten letters slipped into the secrecy of your gloved hand at balls.

anthony wonders why his younger brother looks so... miles away, like his whole being rather than just his head is in the clouds (more so than usual), and also why the family's expenses have skyrocketed all of a sudden... but violet discourages him from badgering benedict about it, because she's too elated that he's finally found a lady to seriously court, lol

since you're so well-read, and therefore spirited and quick, as well as artistic and creative, your conversations with benedict are as stimulating as they are witty... and that's not mentioning your correspondence. you could send each other letters back and forth every single day, were it not for decorum: it's already quite scandalous that an unwedded lord and lady are writing to each other personally, you're supposed to at least entertain your other suitors into thinking they have the ghost of a chance with you. which they don't, because it's clear as snow no one compares to benedict's bohemian soul.

it's true, however, that benedict can be quite... messy, asjdfjab, and he's thankful that it's him who visits you and not the other way around because he would Not want you to see the mess that is his studio. but you give him an incentive to start tidying up a little more! because you deserve only the best <3

literally prince charming incarnate with the perfect dash of mystery and edginess to keep you on your toes. what else do I need to say

#— celebration; 1.5k!#— ask.#˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ margo #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader

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boyfhees · 2 years

Text

🗗 OUT OF CHARACTER | k. sakusa

warnings. food mentions, very very slightly suggestive, mentions of knives and killing lmao isa i swear this ain't angst ( 0.8k approx. )

note. for isa ( @kiyelle ) my love ! happiest birthday, and i'm sorry this is like a day late. hope u like this ^_^ pls ignore that i haven't written /properly/ in like over a month help i forgot how to not make everything literal crack isa im so sorry

"i'm pretty sure we don't use cleaver knives to slice salted eggs," oh, you know that. you don't need sakusa to remind you. however, a little experiment here and there, once in a while, doesn't really hurt.

"why do we even have this at home?" a scoff slips off your tongue as you press your lips in a thin line, checking out the anatomy of the said kitchen appliance, before shooting him a menacing grin. "you're not planning to murder me in sleep now, are you?"

"hm, perhaps?" he cocks his head slightly, mirroring the expression on your face before snaking his arms around you as he pulls you closer. "you do make living a tad bit harder."

you chuckle, that's the plan. a few beats pass away in silence as he admires you with utmost adoration in his eyes. there's a smile on his face and it resonates of love.

you missed these warm mornings with sakusa. you missed waking up next to him, the taste of his food, his kisses, his touch, him— maybe, it's the price you pay for dating nation's top volleyball player? it's funny. and if in case sakusa is capable of hearing your thoughts right now, you well aware that he'll laugh at you for being madly in love with him, despite knowing that he has fallen harder, and so deep that he's not being himself anymore.

"is there a way i can make it easier for you?" you mumble with the same lovestruck smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you step closer, capturing his lips with yours.

he smiles into the kiss, tucking on your waist a little to frame you against the kitchen counter. well, kissing is a good way to make his life easier. he can lose calories and spend less time at the gym, ultimately spending every second by your side. sakusa hopes it makes sense, even though he's certain it doesn't.

but logic is far out of his reach when you're in front of him, in his arms, your lips on his instead of preparing breakfast; he's at home. logic is the last thing he needs right now.

you try to pull away, only for him to lead you to the couch, a few giggles spin in the air as you lie down, one hand cupping his face while the other brushing through his hair. a dust of pink rests on his cheeks, and what you're doing right now is very out of character of him. sakusa likes to kiss you, he can do it all day, but not like this. not when you need to tend to your breakfast before it burns, not when your phone is ringing and he's doing everything to stop you from attending the call.

"omi—" you attempt to pull away again, only for him to deepen the kiss; and you give in, like the lover drunk soul you are. you don't know what happened to him in past few weeks while he was away from you. however, you surely don't complain.

another series of ringtones, another fight to pull away. you feel him smile, one that fades away quickly as you turn over, pinning him down to the couch before grabbing your phone. "kiyoomi. i need to take this call,"

and from what sakusa could hear, it's your workmate. he's checks the time, you're late by two minutes. his nose scrunches up in annoyance, it's just two minutes. sakusa has been known of his punctuality and it surely does come to him as a surprise when he realises that you're late for work and he doesn't mind any part of it. ( you know, he doesn't mind if either of you are late to work if you both are busy kissing each other )

he looks at you, fiddling with your fingers, waiting for you to hang up. just how long is it going to take? sakusa is going through multiple waves of emotions and one of them is purely because your workmate is disturbing you while you were busy doing some important work.

"no i'm not sick, i'll be there— ouch—" you shriek as he nibbles on your neck, a sinister grin on his face and you shift away from him, before answering your friend's questions. "no no, it's my cat. it scratched me."

sakusa smirks, some kind of cat you have.

"what's with you today?" you finally hang up, his hands sliding in yours as he pulls you closer. "you're acting like a five year old right now. so clingy, and for what?"

"i don't know, maybe because i was out for a tournament and haven't seen you in like two weeks?" that sounds like something atsumu would say, and you're sure sakusa has been spending too much time with the said miya that he has gone crazy. "maybe."

you see, being roommates with atsumu has it's own flaws. the last time they went for a tournament, sakusa came back with a weird habit of singing old, rusty songs after getting drunk. the time before that, atsumu rubbed off on him in the worst ways possible and sakusa hasn't stopped using deez nuts jokes ever since. his antics right now, you're sure he acquired them from him too. but again, who are you to complain?

sakusa's lips trail along your jawline, down your neck before he looks into your eyes once again. "you should call in sick today."

"i can't lie, you know it." now, that's a lie.

he frowns. "you lied about not knowing me when that reporter asked you about our relationship,"

"i can't lie to my employer, kiyoomi." you clarify, chuckling as you kiss his palms.

"we can get onto that." there's a mischievous hint in his voice as he kisses your fingers, eyes enunciating a wicked plan. "tell him you have some things to take care of at home,"

"like?"

"like," and he pins you down the couch once again, leaning down as he smiles against your lips. "looking after your five year old clingy boyfriend."

taglist in the rbs.

#prod. — caelin.#album. — haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #sakusa headcanons #sakusa fic #sakusa drabble #hq sakusa #haikyuu imagines #sakusa imagines

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otakween · 29 days

Text

Digimon Tamers: Runaway Locomon

Wow, I completely skipped over this movie by mistake. It just totally slipped my mind! I was glad to get a chance to revisit my Tamers friends. Too bad this short film was pretty lack luster. I enjoyed it for the animation at least. Seeing Terriermon and Lopmon interact soothes my soul.

Notes:

This was more like an OVA than a movie since it was only 30 minutes long. The animation quality wasn't that different from the show, the characters were just a little shinier haha

Terriermon and Lopmon are seen flying with airplane-like ears in this. Were they always able to do that?? What the heck.

I feel so bad for Juri, after all she went through in the main series now she only shows up in the credits? It's like now that she doesn't have a digimon partner she's worthless or something

Parasimon was disgusting with his bulging, droopy eye and the way he exploded when attacked, blech. Very creepy baddie

Best scene was Terriermon pouting because Jian mixed him up with Lopmon lol. Too cute

Apparently Ruki hates singing because she associates it with her dad? Is he a deadbeat or dead? I forget the lore. Either way it's giving "Singing killed my grandma, okay!?"

Kinda felt like this whole movie was an excuse to sell Ruki's hot new single lmao

So it's apparent that this has to take place after the main series for many reasons, but it feels weird that the digimon are just back in the real world? They gave some big speech about how they couldn't stay but now everything's fine? What changed?

It felt a little bit like Ruki reverted to her old personality in this. Maybe her birthday just awakens complicated feelings.

Did we really need the Sakuyamon boob jiggle? Ruki's in there gdi!

Yeah, IDK. This was kind of a nothing burger. It might have been better if it was longer and they had more time to build the tension and stakes. It also might have been interesting to see other tamers being affected by Parasimon. 5 out of 10

#digimon tamers: runaway locomon #digimon tamers #digimon #movie

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sailxrmxrs · 2 years

Text

happy birthday quest blooming panic what a lovely day it is indeed. was i awake at ungodly hours trying to come up with an idea that i would be able to write into a half decent birthday fic? maybe, maybe not you'll never know yes i was. anyway my internet was trying to fight me all week so it's been a Time trying to finish this on time but it was worth it bc quest beloved deserves a happy birthday and a happy birthday ONLY. if i see any angst today it's on sight. see u next month for xyx gamers. hopefully my internet won't hate me by then lmao.

Quest shifted under the covers, finally waking from a night of comfortable sleep. The curtains were still closed and the room still dim enough that he could have easily fallen back asleep for another hour or two, though his work schedule would certainly hinder those plans. Quest rolled over, eyes closed again as he reached to pull you in close to his chest. Only, as his arm came down on the spot you always slept in, he was met with empty space. The sheets still held the faintest lingering warmth but you were decidedly not there. Quest sat up, the heel of his hand rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before finding his glasses so that he might discover where you had gone. It wasn't rare for you to wake up first, but you almost always waited until he had woken too. Or, if you had to leave, then you'd at least wake him up with a soft and sleepy kiss goodbye. It was a tradition he felt almost lost without as he rose from the inviting warmth of the bed in search of you. Last night you'd mentioned needing to run a few errands in the morning but would you really have left so early? Or without telling Quest? It wasn't that he disliked you leaving without him knowing, but rather that he would have wanted to go with you.

In the time since you and Quest had moved in together, he dearly treasured any outing you took as a couple; no matter how mundane or boring the task might seem, Quest found it all so incredibly domestic and he adored spending that time with you. As he sleepily explored your shared home, calling out your name in his husky morning voice, Quest began to grow more and more concerned. Realistically, he knew you'd probably just headed out to run some errands but that semblance of logic did little to quell his unease. However, instead of opting to let those thoughts fester, Quest continued with his morning routine and brewed himself a coffee. If anything, it'd serve to wake him up a little and steal away the aching tiredness that still dwelled in his eyes. As he manouevered about the kitchen, Quest's eyes found the calendar that hung beneath the clock on the kitchen wall. His birthday. Every year it came around and still managed to take him by surprise. His birthday was never really an event that Quest waited in anticipation for, particularly in his adult years—he barely even remembered the last time he celebrated it. Though he certainly remembered the gentle scolding you gave him the previous year when he accidentally let slip that it was his birthday. He hadn't hidden the fact intentionally but the thought to share it simply hadn't crossed his mind, a result of his own lacklustre views on the so-called 'special' day.

This was to be his first birthday since moving in together—and also the first one that you were aware of. A thought flashed in Quest's mind that perhaps the reason you'd snuck out so early was because you were planning something for his birthday. Neither one of you had discussed potential plans so Quest naturally assumed the day would pass by fairly uneventfully. It would’ve been nice to celebrate, of course, but he hadn’t dwelled on the thought long enough to consider asking what plans you might want to make. As Quest leaned against the kitchen counter taking his first sip of coffee, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and you arriving home. Within moments you were in the kitchen, a pleasantly surprised look on your face to see Quest awake and about.

"Hello, you." You hadn't yet shrugged off your coat as you bounced over to Quest, nose tinted pink from the biting chill of the morning air.

Quest slid a mug towards you, prepared exactly how you liked it as you came up beside him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday, love. Thought you'd still be in bed by the time I got back."

"Not worth having a lie in without you there," Quest hummed, taking another sip of coffee. "Where did you run off to, anyway?"

You spared a quick glance toward the front door of the apartment before noting Quest's poor attempts to hide his avid curiosity. "I was hoping you'd still be asleep so I could make the surprise more exciting but I guess this will do. Go sit on the sofa and close your eyes. And keep 'em closed. No peeking or no present."

"Being with you is enough of a gift for me," Quest teased, his hands reaching for your waist while you playfully tried to push him away.

"You are disgustingly cute sometimes. But also I hate it." Despite your words, you relinquished to Quest's hold on you, relishing in the warmth of his bare chest on your cheek. The two of you stayed there, suspended in time, until the anticipation of seeing Quest's reaction to his birthday gift overcame you. "There's plenty of time for birthday cuddles later. For now, ass on couch and eyes closed."

Quest chuckled, amused by your impatience but he listened to your instruction this time around, planting himself down and closing his eyes. There was a hint of temptation to open an eye just to see how you might react but he decided against it, feeling your eyes scrutising him for a sign of disobedience. Satisifed that he wouldn't sneak a glance, you headed back to the front door where you had left Quest's birthday present—the most important of them anyway. You had some smaller gifts hidden away in your wardrobe but those could wait until later. You had a strong suspicion that Quest might care for this one a little more.

"Okay, open your eyes in 3, 2, 1."

Quest's eyes opened, adjusting to the light once more as he looked for a change in the scenery. At his confusion, you told him to look by his feet. Sniffing the floor by Quest's feet was a small labrador puppy, a bright golden colour as it explored all the new sights and sounds.

"You didn't," Quest said, disbelief and surprise all over his features.

"I did." You grinned at Quest as he reached down to pick up the puppy, now excitedly greeting its new father. "You're always saying how you'd love to get a dog someday so I thought it was about time to grant that wish."

Quest smiled at you as the puppy bounded off to explore the apartment, paws skittering along the floors. His hands sought out yours, fingers intertwining and interlocking as he blinked away the tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that you're a literal angel?"

"Once or twice," you laughed as Quest pulled you onto his lap, arms enveloping your body as he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving a smattering of kisses on the skin.

"Well I'll say it again. You're an angel. What did I do to deserve you?"

"None of that," you reprimanded, pulling back from his grasp and taking his face in your hands. "You are deserving of it all. But we should probably go find our new baby. Before they get to your gifts before you can." You moved from your spot in front of Quest, hands finding his as though there were magnets, or a string binding the two of you together; wherever one went, the other was assured to follow no matter the physical distance that may emerge between them. Whatever plans Quest had been expecting, this was so far removed from how he'd thought the day might go. But he could not have felt more loved than in this moment. If Quest could bottle any emotion, it would be this one: pure, unadulterated adoration and appreciation for all that you were. Quest couldn't imagine a life without you in it—didn't want to imagine such an existence. Before he had met you, Quest was merely drifting through life. Sure, he had plenty of nice memories from his time in the server, but he hadn't felt like he was truly living until that fateful day you made your way into his life. Since then, Quest felt as though he was finally seeing in colour, finally experiencing life and all its wonders as they should be experienced. And, as he watched you laughing as the small puppy came bounding into your arms, Quest knew this was the exact brand of happiness that he would never let slip from his grasp. So with all the love in his eyes, he came to your side where he strived to be for as long as he lived.

#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #blooming panic fanfic #blooming panic quest #blooming panic quest x reader #another birthday comes and goes and the birthday fic tradition continues #i am looking at october and eventual xyx birthday writing #the cycle of dread continues #will i be able to think of an idea and write it or will my brain decide to break and give me nothing #tune in next month to find out #what is creativity what is inspiration who am i what kind of mess is my tumblr #anyway #mars writes

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poisonioushearts · 1 year

Text

The Un-unbirthday Party

Characters: Heartslabyul (some are there more than others but they all speak)

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: Not proof read

Synopsis/tags: I had this idea while lying in bed and contemplating my life choices, fluff, slight angst, no use of y/n, reader is ramshackle prefect, you can guess the ending, takes place after book 1 but book 2 hasn't started yet

Notes: First time posting a fic on here so please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading!, tried to make this aesthetically pleasing to look at lmao

Do not repost, reblog only(if you enjoyed reading do reblog it helps with motivation)

Word count: 800+ (I skimmed to count so I don't know the exact number)

It was a cycle.

Go to school. Keep Grim in line. Get dragged into trouble by your friends. Go back to Ramshackle exhausted because some bird insisted on you doing something to repay him because of he is 'oh so generous'.

Ha.

You realized one day that time was really flying by because as you were rearranging things in the main room and trying to clean stuff up the ghosts popped up.

"Sheehee, hello there prefect."

You jumped, startled. The picture you were adjust on the wall almost slipped from your fingers and you fumbled to catch it.

You sighed, "Hello. There something you need?"

"No." One of them responded.

"But we do have a question." Another added.

"Sure," you put the picture on the floor and faced the ghosts, "What is it?"

"Is it true your birthday is in a week from today?"

You hummed in thought, pulling out the phone that Crowley lent you out of his graciousness (whatever) and you check the date.

Sure enough your birthday was to be in exactly one week from today.

"Seems like it yeah," You answered nonchalantly, "Why do you-" looking up from the bright screen you saw that the ghosts had just vanished. "Okayy?"

Shrugging off the encounter you put your phone back in your pocket and picked the picture up again.

"Henchmen!"

"Gah!" You yelped and the object crashed to the floor, a sure sound of something breaking made you internally groan.

"What now Grim?"

"Why didn't you tell me your birthday is coming up?"

You tilted your head, "I never told you when my birthday was."

"I- ah-" he stuttered over his words, "I overheard you speaking to the ghosts about it! Not because I was curious about why you didn't say when your birthday was but because I was just in the area at the time and I am curious."

You chuckled, "Of course. I wouldn't have thought any differently."

"So..." He trailed off, and knowing Grim he wouldn't let it go until he had an answer.

"Well," you started, walking away from the shattered picture and towards you kitchen for a glass of water. "I guess there's more so two reasons. Reason one: I haven't really thought about it. Being here has kept me running everywhere so I guess I haven't had much time to think. And two..." You trailed off, staring into the cup of water, fingers tightening around the glass, "I suppose I'm trying to avoid it."

"Wah!?" The cat sputtered from his spot on the floor, he quickly crawled to your leg and climbed until he was sprawled across your shoulders. "Why would you avoid your birthday?!"

You sighed, "Because the people I usually spend it with aren't here." Finally you decided to take a sip of the water, it's coolness helping your parched throat only by a little. "My family and friends back home...they...I..." You stopped talking for fear of the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Oh..." He trailed off. The cat was at a loss for words. You? His henchmen- without your family on one of the most important days of the year? No. He wouldn't have it. Not for his henchmen.

---

It's been a week and today was your birthday, although it didn't feel any different from any other days at Night Raven College, you knew that this day is different.

You weren't home. You wouldn't see your family or friends and as the days passed it felt as if Crowley wasn't even trying to get you home.

Like the other days your mind was on autopilot as you went from class to class, the day was beginning to mush and blur together.

There was one part of the day you were excited for however, and that was the Unbirthday party Heartslabyul was hosting in the evening. It was the one thing that seemed to be good in your day as you treked from class to class and tried not to fall asleep in Trein's lessons.

At the moment it was Lunch time and you were silently eating your food while you listened to your friends talk.

"So," Deuce faced you, "You still coming to the ah-Unbirthday Party later?"

You nodded with a smile, "Wouldn't miss the chance for free food." Your friends chuckled in response as you finished up your lunch.

Although you could definitely feel something was off with your Heartslabyul friends you didn't say anything. You didn't know why but you just brushed this moment off and hoped they hadn't gotten into any trouble.

Your hopes were thankfully answered. (You didn't know this though)

"So, prefect. Anything interesting going on today?"

You raised a brow at the sudden question and opened you mouth to speak and faltered when Ace suddenly yelped, as if he had been elbowed in the side.

"What was that for?" Ace hissed as he faced the boy next to him who just wordlessly stared at him.

They say in silence for a few long minutes before you looked at the cafeteria clock.

"Well I don't know what's going on with you to and I swear if you got into some type of trouble." You stood up with your tray, "I will murder you."

"Oh nothing-"

"It's just that-"

"We didn't do anything we swear!"

You gave them an incredulous look as they stood with their trays, "...okay..."

As the day went on they just acted more and more suspicious. They must have done something to be acting like this!

Throughout the classes you had one(or both) of them with, Deuce would shuffle in his seat nervously and stutter over his words and Ace was... semi-normal. He didn't insult you as much as usual though which made you very suspicious because he never once made fun of Grim-who has been awfully quiet for the most of the day as he clung to your shoulders.

'What is going on?'

---

Finally the school day had come to a close, and you were currently attempting to get ready for the un-unbirthday party.

But it seemed like you had nothing.

The outfit that Riddle had given you when you first went was kind of ruined from trying to run away from Trey and Carter, for it had gotten caught on the rose bushes. But it didn't seem like you had much of a choice. At least it wasn't that torn? It was noticable but not terrible.

You just hoped that the dorm leader would let this slide- knowing him before his overblot, you would surly loose your head.

You fiddles with the sleeves nervously as your shoes clacked in the quiet halls of the college. Grim had already left while you were getting ready, insisting that he, the great Grim, could take care of himself.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt and now you were walking in the halls alone.

You didn't think your birthday was terrible so far. Not much homework, Grim was cooperative, and you got the change to go to a party- even if it wasn't yours. You'd say it was a pretty decent day, but at times you couldn't stop thinking about your home.

What could they be doing? Did they miss you? Did they think you went missing or died?

The questions were endless and you attempted to push them out of your mind. You wanted to focus on your friends and the Unbirthday party today. You didn't want to worry anyone with your troubles.

You finally stood in front of the steps to the mirror. Your foot hovered over the steps when someone suddenly stumbled out of the mirror.

"Deuce?" Said boy stumbled down the steps and you moved out of the way so you wouldn't get crushed and you caught him before he could faceplant into the floor.

"Oh-ah- hey there prefect!" He straightened out and your arms fell to your sides.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at the party?" You asked, gesturing to the mirror.

"Well actually I came to get you! Um, Carter and I."

You tilted your head, "Carter's with you?"

"Yep, mhm. So we should probably wait for him."

"But you just said you came to get me, and I am here so..." You took a step towards the mirror but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

"Well we should probably wait because he doesn't know your here yet! He could end up going to you dorm only to realize you're not there so we should totally wait."

You didn't pull away from his grip, "Totally..."

Not to long later after a long awkward silence, Carter appeared.

"Ah prefect! There you are! Glad we found you."

You deadpanned, "I've been standing here for a while."

He ignored your comment, "Come on let's go- wait." He stopped and looked at your outfit before frowning, "It's ripped."

"Yeah I know... But I didn't have anything else."

He waved his hand, "Not a problem let me just..." He took out his pen and with a flick of his wrist, your outfit had been repaired to it's previous state, with just a little more...'pizazz'.

"Oh!" You looked at yourself and one of the previously ripped parts and hummed, "Thanks Carter!"

"Not a problem prefect! Can't have you looking like a mess at your-"

"At the Unbirthday party!" Deuce suddenly shouted, his voice an octave higher than normal.

"Oh yes, Riddle would not have been pleased." Carter agreed.

"Well then I believe he also would not be pleased if we are late yes? Let's go."

"Ahh, not just yet." Carter stepped into your path.

You frowned, "Why not?"

"Well... preparations have not yet finished up and we had a uh... incident. I came to get Deuce for the extra help. I'll text you when we are ready!"

Before you could utterly another word Carter had already grabbed your classmates wrist and disappeared in the mirror.

You blinked.

"Okay then...might as well go to the library and try to do some research..."

---

The gardens were quiet, the roses red glistening with fresh red paint, the only sounds being your shoes against the pavement as you walked into the gardens to get to the main area.

Minutes ago you had gotten the text from Carter saying that they were ready for you.

What did that even mean? It's an Unbirthday party they are meant for well-everyone.

You looked from from the roses, to the trees, and to the cloudless sky.

It was nice, the quiet and the serene nature. You felt almost at peace.

No cat complaining about the school work.

No friends getting themselves into trouble.

Just yourself on this nice and simple day. Your birthday.

And cake.

But that would be later.

You had finally come to the same old space in the garden where the party's were held. Tables were set and silverware shone when hit by the sun's rays.

But where was everyone?

The place was empty not a single soul in sight. You pulled out your phone with a frown, re-reading Carter's message. They should all be here by now...

Something collided with your body and you crashed to the ground with a yelp, your phone slipping from your fingers.

"Ow..." You groaned, attempting to sit up, about to hit your attacker when you paused. "Ace? What the hell what was for?"

He only smirked and helped you to your feet before pulling an item from behind his back and placing it on your head.

"Happy birthday prefect."

What?

At that moment the students came filing out from where they hid, greeting you with a smile and 'happy birthday' before taking seats at the tables.

"What? But- how?"

"Grim and the ghosts." Riddle appeared beside you, "The cat gave Trey quite a fright. Luckily he wasn't holding anything but a tray, unfortunately, that tray will filled with treats which hit the floor. Grim had no problem cleaning them up and he told Trey in muffled words that your birthday was coming up."

"I went to Riddle and he told your friends." Trey smiled as you turned to meet his eyes, "It was Riddle's idea to push the Unbirthday for another day and have this be, in other words, a surprise birthday party. Happy birthday prefect." He handed you a small wrapped box and you could barley stutter out a thank you.

You were shocked and happy.

And on the verge of tears(but they didn't need to know that).

You smiled, straightening the ridiculous and nostalgic hat on your head as Deuce wished you a happy birthday and Carter pulled you close for a picture(after he handed you your phone which was somewhere in the grass after Ace tackled you).

"Then I guess it's an un-unbirthday party." You joked. "Thank you guys."

This is one moment you wouldn't trade for anything. Not even a ticket home.

Because at the moment, this was the now.

This was your home.

Whether temporary or permanent.

No matter how much chaos you get into with those guys- you wouldn't have it any other way.

---

Reblogs and likes are always appreciated, thank you!

#twisted wonderland #birthday #fanfiction #oneshot #twst #heartslabyul #fluff #no y/n #x reader #gender neutral reader #idk how to use tags #ace trappola #duece spade #trey clover #carter diamond #riddle rosehearts

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male-reader-haven · 10 months

Text

~That Horrible,, Wonderful Feeling~

Author note:

Chapter 2 wholesomeness ahead!! Idk if any of you caught it in my last upload before I edited it but I left my name in place of one of the Y/N placeholders... Oops. Needless to say I write these with myself in mind first lmao. Anyways, enjoy a relaxing date with Namjoon!!!

Chapter 2: New is Scary

Namjoon's POV as Y/N takes him to a museum. They share tons of moments, learn some more, and get closer to each other. A bit closer than intended... While his mind should be focused on the artwork and history on display, Namjoon can't help but find himself distracted by Y/N's adorable charm. What's happening to him?

ALSO INCLUDING: Y/N's perspective as his best friend helps him through gay panic

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x male idol Y/N (who has the same birthday as Jimin)

TW: Internalized homophobia, awkward moments, guilt, 18+

Word count: 3,648

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After another 15 minutes Y/N and Namjoon arrive at the museum and park. They had called ahead to let the museum know they were coming so they could bring their own security, but when they arrived they realized they wouldn't need it since the museum is basically empty, save for an elderly couple walking in together from off the bus. Y/N parks the car and looks at Namjoon excitedly.

“We got the place to ourselves! Let's go!” He hops out of the car, Namjoon smiles and puts up his black mask and gets out of the passenger side. Y/N slips up his own mask and locks the car with a short “beep.” He goes over to Namjoon and grabs his hand.

“C’mon, let's go!” Namjoon smiles under his mask as Y/N practically drags him into the museum.

They walk in the building together and check in at the front desk. The lady is very polite and shows them a small sign.

“If you scan this QR code with your phone it sends you to the audio guide for our exhibits so you can listen along.”

“That’s new.” Namjoon remarks. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his airpods and phone. He frowns slightly and turns to Y/N. “I usually bring these to listen to music as I look, but I also want to listen to the guide.”

“Here, I have an idea!” Y/N reaches into his own pocket and pulls out his own airpods. “Here, you play your music with your airpods and I will play the audio guide and we can each share one earbud.” He scans the sign and holds out an earbud in his hand towards Namjoon.

“Perfect!” Namjoon smiles and trades earbuds with Y/N. They walk away from admission and put their earbuds in.

“Now it’s my turn to judge your music taste!” Y/N laughs. Namjoon smiles, somewhat nervously. After a second too long of scrolling through his playlists Namjoon finally decides to play “Gymnopedie No. 1,” looking up to see if Y/N approves. Y/N smiles.

“Perfect.” He then turns to his phone and taps the play icon for the audio guide, only to make both of them jump with a blast of sound.

“Ah! Sorry, volume.” After he frantically lowers the volume to a good level, they both chuckle.

“Listen to loud music, huh?” Namjoon laughs.

“On occasion…” Y/N looks away, slightly shy from embarrassment. They begin walking and observing pieces in the national designated culture assets collection. The audio guide’s soft voice and the lull of the music provide a great combination of background noise as they admire the art. Namjoon notices that Y/N tends to walk and sway along with the music subconsciously, his head rocking back and forth gently as he bends down to read captions. He walks gracefully, nearly dancing as he makes his way to the next piece. Namjoon has a tight feeling in his stomach. They stop to admire “Sin-gubeop cheonmundo,” an old astronomical chart. Namjoon looks at Y/N, who is staring wide-eyed at the constellations and markings. His lips are slightly parted as his eyes graze over the parchment, slightly sparkling. Namjoon is enamored by Y/N’s thoughtful expressions, and the soothing music in the back of his mind doesn’t help how fluttery he feels looking at him.

He is beautiful.

Y/N turns and meets Namjoon’s eyes for a split second and Namjoon snaps his head back to the chart as if nothing happened. Out of the corner of his eye Namjoon sees Y/N turn his head also. They move on in comfortable silence and spend an hour looking at more historical pieces. Namjoon stays at the rear, watching as Y/N explores in adorable wonder. His mind is drifting away from the audio guide and he gets lost in watching him move from piece to piece. Y/N himself looks like he should be a work of art, put behind protective glass to shield him from the cruel outside world. He dances around the empty hallways and by dimly lit artworks. As far as Namjoon is concerned, the whole museum was built just for him. Y/N turns around and meets Namjoon’s gaze. Namjoon doesn’t look away this time, enamored by Y/N’s warm smile.

“Hungry?” Y/N asks after a moment. As if on cue, Namjoon’s stomach makes a gurgling sound.

“Guess so.” They laugh and head to the museum cafe.

Y/N orders a hot chai tea latte with oat milk and a rice cake and Namjoon orders an iced americano with egg bread. They sit down on bar stools next to the glass wall that shows the outside garden.

“I need to go to museums more often, I really love it here!” Y/N remarks, taking a sip of his tea. “It’s so peaceful compared to the rest of the city.”

“Yeah, whenever I have even just 30 minutes of free time from working I try to go to museums. They calm me down and help me clear my mind. It’s part of why I love art so much.” He looks at Y/N. “What do you like about art?”

“Wow, loaded question.” Y/N laughs. “Well, I like thinking about what made the artist create their pieces. What time period it was, what was going on at the time, how they felt, what prompted them to create, etcetera. I like the personality behind it.” He looks out the window, resting his head in his hand. “It’s like taking a glimpse into a stranger’s mind and seeing what it’s like. It's intimate.” Namjoon nods. He takes note of how the setting sun’s golden glow shines on Y/N’s hair, making it a warm color. There’s that funny feeling in his chest again.

This is new… Since when do I notice things like that about him?...

Namjoon fidgets in his seat and looks down at his coffee.

“I missed hanging out with you, Joon. It’s been forever since you've been working so hard for the last few months. It’s like we never see you.” Namjoon feels a twinge of guilt after hearing him say that.

“I’m sorry, I get stuck up in my head sometimes. Yoongi too. When we start the process, it's hard to stop.” He sips his coffee. “I need to remember to take more breaks before I burn out.”

“Seriously. You know if you ever need to wind down or want to go to a museum, I'd be happy to come with. We don’t even really have to talk if it takes too much energy.” He crosses his arms. “Plus, somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t break down completely.”

Namjoon chuckles.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

After some time chatting at the cafe, Namjoon and Y/N decide to head back home and chill with takeout and movies until the rest of the band gets back. Y/N orders chinese (sesame chicken, orange chicken, wontons and crab rangoons) while Namjoon flips through Netflix.

“Any recommendations?” Namjoon says over his shoulder.

“Shhh, on the phone, one sec.” Y/N responds. Namjoon just nods and continues flipping, making note of all 8 member’s profile images on Netflix. Taehyung has a strange cartoon slug, Jimin is Queen Elizabeth from “The Crown,” Jungkook is the chicken from “Lost in Space,” Yoongi is a leopard from some nature documentary, J-hope is a default orange smiley icon, Jin is Aggretsuko, Y/N is a penguin and Namjoon’s is a koala. He wonders to himself if everyone chose their own or if somebody assigned all their icons. He scrolls down his account and realizes there is so much that he hasn’t seen, let alone heard of. Y/N hangs up his phone and joins Namjoon on the sofa.

“Should be around 30 minutes.” He gets comfortable and grabs a large blanket to settle under. He offers Namjoon the blanket as well, and he accepts, getting comfortable.

“What do you want to watch?” He asks Y/N. He pauses a second. “What genres do you like?”

“Ooh, I love horror and comedy. I’m always down for a classic supernatural horror or a rom com. OH, but I have a huge soft spot for action movies with huge robots or monsters.” Y/N turns to Namjoon. “What about you?”

“I like dramas and science fiction. That's interesting, I never knew you were a horror fan. Wouldn’t quite peg you for someone who likes that stuff.” He tilts his head. Y/N laughs.

“Yeah? Well surprise, this pretty boy listens to heavy metal and screamo, likes horror, and listens to true crime podcasts.” He winks. “I’m not as innocent as I look, you know.”

The two of them end up finding a science fiction/horror movie about astronauts going into space with a dangerous alien on board. About 20 minutes into the movie, Namjoon notices how quiet it has gotten and looks over to find Y/N falling asleep.

Geez, must still be feeling the effects of yesterday.

He smiles as he watches him slowly nod his head, repeatedly catching himself just to nod off again. He leans forward and gently grabs Y/N’s shoulders, helping him lean back into the sofa rather than leaning forward and nearly falling off. Y/N lets him and ends up leaning back on Namjoon’s shoulder, making himself comfortable. Namjoon can feel his breaths as Y/N basically falls into his lap asleep. Namjoon is startled but doesn't want to move him, so he just puts his left arm around him and tries to focus on the movie. He can’t stop his eyes from being drawn to Y/N’s head in his lap, however, and he finds himself subconsciously bringing his right hand to Y/N’s head and stroking his hair. The funny feeling is in his chest again.

Suddenly, the movie has a jumpscare, and Y/N jolts up from his slumber, looking at the screen. He is still on his side, but now has his arms on Namjoon’s lap and is turned over. He stays like this for a moment before realizing that he is indeed on Namjoon’s lap. He turns to Namjoon and quickly sits up.

“Ah, sorry haha. I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Namjoon swears he can see him blushing.

“No worries. You looked adorable. Uh, comfortable! You looked comfortable.” Namjoon catches himself, hoping Y/N won’t think anything of it. Y/N just smiles. They sit in silence, just looking at each other. Namjoon doesn’t know if it is him or Y/N or both of them, but they seem to be a lot closer now than their faces were five minutes ago. They draw closer to each other in what feels like slow motion. Heat rises up in Namjoon’s chest.

They are interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. They both blink, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance they were just in.

“I uh, I'll go get that.” Y/N hurriedly stands up to get the door.

What was just about to happen?? Namjoon’s thoughts raced. His stomach felt like butterflies had invaded and his head was a balloon. Did he and Y/N just, almost kiss? Did he want them to kiss? He shook his head, trying to clear his head as Y/N walks over with a brown paper bag.

“Food has arrived! Almost 20 minutes late, that is.” He sighs and places the food on the table. “We might finish the movie before we finish our food.” He laughs. They silently agree to act like the situation previously never happened and dig into the food. The night goes on and they start another movie, and eventually the other boys arrive and everyone re-unites to talk about their days.

“Yoongi almost fell in the water. He fell asleep with the pole and got a huge bite, it almost pulled him in!” Jin laughs, retelling the scene.

“It ended up taking my bait.” Yoongi smiles. They obviously had fun.

“Taehyung and Jungkook had an argument and almost got us all lost hiking.” Jimin tattles on the two youngest members.

“I don’t want to start the argument all over again, but I’m just saying, I knew where I was going!” Jungkook whined.

“Yeah, that’s why you had to keep asking where we were on the map.” Taehyung gives him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“We got out safely though. We saw a lot of deer and wildlife.” Hoseok chimes in.

“We had a good time too! The museum was practically empty, so we had the whole place to ourselves.” Y/N explains their time at the museum. “It was really great!”

“Hey, let’s all do something tomorrow. It’s been forever since all 8 of us hung out.” Hoseok chimes in. “We could go to a club and get drinks.”

“I hope you’re thinking about the evening then, not the day.” Yoongi laughs. “Let’s not be day drinkers and end up smashed again.”

“We could all go to karaoke and dinner, then go to the club. That way we have food in our stomachs first.” Taehyung suggests.

“Sure. I’m always down to see rapper Jin show us up.” Namjoon laughs, referencing the last time they did group karaoke.

“Better watch out, i’ll be in the rapline soon enough!” Jin widens his eyes at Namjoon. They all laugh.

“Cool, we will meet at the arcade around 4 then?” Y/N asks. The other 7 members all agree.

Namjoon yawns.

“I’m gonna turn in guys, still tired from yesterday.” He glances at Y/N. “You were practically sleeping through the movie, so I suggest you go to bed too.” He laughs, then suddenly remembers the strange moment that happened earlier between him and Y/N. He thinks he remembers too because he sees him turn away.

“Haha, yeah, I'm pretty tired too. I had fun today, and I’m glad we all have this weekend off to spend together. Get some rest y'all.”

“Get out of here with your english slang.” Jungkook jokes with Y/N and stands up too. He gets up and makes his way to his room. The other members each respectively say their goodnights and head to their own rooms as well.

Namjoon lies in bed for a while, unable to sleep. The day keeps on replaying in his head like clips from a movie. Seeing Y/N walk around the museum and how pretty he was, him staring out the window at the cafe and his face so close to Namjoon’s on the couch. Namjoon brings his hands to his face.

What is happening to me?

Never before has he had these feelings for another man, let alone someone he has known for most of his life already.

Is it really okay to think about him like that?

He shakes his head, catching himself. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong. To be fair, if anyone looked at Y/N and tried to say he wasn’t a cute boy, they'd be lying. It’s only natural. Plus, it’s not like anything actually happened between them today. Namjoon feels a twinge of guilt.

Why do I feel guilty for having these feelings?

Namjoon rolls over, head full of thoughts. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, thinking of rays of sunshine reflecting off silky hair and sparkling eyes.

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(Meanwhile, in Y/N's room...)

Y/N is lying down on his carpet floor when Jimin walks into his room and sits next to him.

“So, what’s up with you?” He pokes Y/N in the side. “You’re ‘tired,’ huh?”

Y/N frowns, not looking at Jimin yet.

“Yes. I’m allowed to be tired.” He rolls over and pokes Jimin back. “Are you here to lecture me about something?”

Jimin sighs.

“Look, Y/N, we basically share one brain cell. I can tell when something is up with you. You always help me when I come to you. Now spill.”

Y/N groans and sits up reluctantly.

“Is Namjoon acting differently lately?” He poses the question that has been on his mind all day. “When we were hanging out he seemed off, lost in thought or something. I’m worried about what happened during that interview.”

Jimin tsks at Y/N.

“Of course, you aren’t worried about yourself, but someone else. Look, if you are that concerned, maybe you should go ask him. I’m sure he would appreciate it.” He pats Y/N’s knees. “He did seem off. I gotta admit, I’m a bit concerned too. I think it’s best you ask though, you’re good at these things.” Y/N nods, looking at the ground. Jimin tilts his head. “Aaaand you still have shit on your mind. What else is up?”

Y/N smiles.

“You just can’t cut me a break, huh?”

“Absolutely not. Come on, lay it on me. I’m a secure secret keeper, I swear by our twinship.”

“More like we just happen to have the same birthday and year, not exactly twins.” Y/N laughs. “Plus, I'm older by like, 2 hours.”

“Ah, you're stalling! Hurry up and tell me what's wrong before I use twin telepathy on you.” They both laugh.

“I don’t know. It’s just…” Y/N looks at the wall for a moment, searching for the right words. “Hanging out with Namjoon today felt so different. I mean, we are around each other every day. We all are. But something changed.”

“Could it be you are finally realizing your super mega gay crush on him?” Jimin smirks.

“Whaaaaaaaat?” Y/N’s head snaps to meet Jimin’s with a taken aback look.

“Oh my fucking god Y/N, you have been crushing on him since we debuted, you CANNOT be this stupid.” He puts his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “You wrote about him in all your letters home for crying out loud.”

Y/N blushes and stutters.

“W-well, I wrote about all of you-”

“Yeah, but not like you wrote about Namjoon. And how about all the times you would fall after he did in practice so he didn’t feel bad? All the times you’d fix things right after he broke them so people don’t find out? Don’t act like you don’t!” Jimin is satisfied when Y/N cups his hands to his face.

“Oh god, was it always that obvious?” He says through his hands.

“Not to Namjoon. The man has an IQ of 148 but is somehow thick as a brick.” He smiles at Y/N. “Honestly, I think he may not be as straight as you think he is.”

Y/N looks up, betraying his curious face.

“Huh? What makes you say that?”

“Well if you also weren’t so absolutely in your own head, you would notice how you make him smile so much. He thinks you are adorable.” Jimin teases Y/N, who blushes and hides into his hands again.

“You don’t know that, you are just making assumptions to tease me.”

“Somewhat, but I also believe that man is not straight.”

“Come ON, he is such a simp for Megan The Stallion.”

“Oh, so you’re promoting bi erasure now?” Jimin lightly punches Y/N in the side. “Plus, he basically worships Anderson Paak. And you have to admit, he treats you a bit differently. There could be something there, you never know.”

“How would that even work? Two members of BTS getting together, the fans would lose their shit. Plus, I don’t think it's even allowed.”

“Who says? The company is literally ours. Plus, you wouldn't have to be public about it. Fans will make assumptions anyways. You yourself have seen the ao3 pages and wattpad fanfictions. At this point there is a fanfic for each and every one of us together.” He shudders as if recalling a memory. “I will never forget some of those… I should have left my curiosity to rot.”

Y/N laughs.

“Holy fucking shit do they love putting you and JK in the omegaverse.”

“I still can’t believe Tae got us to read those. I have never been the same man since.” He laughs and then regains his train of thought. “Anyways my point is, don’t worry so much. Things will work out. Just keep being yourself and if something happens, great! If not, oh well. We will survive.” He opens his arms and beckons Y/N to hug him.

“Thanks Jimin. You always know how to help me organize my brain.”

“I know, I know, you can praise me later.” They hug for a second. “No matter what, we will always be a family. All eight of us.”

“I know. I’m so grateful.”

“Even if one of us is fucking the leader.”

“Ugh, you perv!!” Y/N punches Jimin.

“Ouchh, don't take out your frustration on me, save that for Joon! Ack-” He is cut off when Y/N punches him again.

“And now you have overstayed your welcome. I don’t approve of perverts in my room, get out before I pepper spray you!” Y/N stands up and drags Jimin to his feet, pushing him to the door.

“Haha okay okay, i'll leave. You know you love me.” Jimin peeks his head from behind the door, trying to act cute.

“Less and less by the second. Now goodnight.” Y/N closes the door slowly, forcing Jimin to move his head.

“G’night hyung!!” He is heard jogging to his own room.

“Night Jimin.” Y/N sighs and falls on his bed. He stares at the ceiling, thinking about the day and what to do next.

Nothing has changed, so I shouldn’t change. Just keep doing your thing.

Y/N reassures himself. He then thinks of Namjoon.

I should check on him tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on him while we hang out, just to make sure he is all right.

He sighs and turns to his side. Eventually, he drifts to sleep.

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Stay tuned, Jae loves you <3

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ohimsummer · 2 years

Text

only you, babe

this was supposed to be for a smut prompt LMAO got caught up in details and Jean being the most perfect bf ever

content: fluff, jean x reader, modern! au

When you brought up wanting to go shoe shopping, Jean couldn’t wait to take you to the mall; he was thrilled at the thought of spending money on you. He was chatty the entire way there as he inquired what colour you were thinking, what type you wanted, where you were gonna wear them first. His excitement was adorable to say the least. You found his constant interest in your life endearing. It felt good having someone care about something as small as your random purchase of shoes. That was Jean for you: always caring.

Your boyfriend, being the gentleman he is, jogs over to your side and opens the door for you. Jean’s hand is extended to help you out of the car. He was so chivalrous, always being mindful of you and your needs, always there to lend a helping hand. You loved it.

It doesn’t take long for you guys to arrive at the shoe store you had in mind. Your arm is intertwined with Jean’s, and fingers laced with his own. He radiates a warmth that pushes away the cool air in the mall. The alluring scent of his cologne is distracting, but you still find yourself drawing in deep breaths to take in more of the smell. Jean untangles himself from you for just a moment to pick up a pair of shoes he thinks you might like. They’re a cute, sort-of rose gold colour with a white midsole and laces. You turn them over in your hands, studying their basic design while Jean looks over other shoes in the isle.

“I don’t think I have anything to match these with, Jean.” He turns and examines the frown on your face as you try and find where he got the shoes from.

“Guess that means we’ll have to find you an outfit to go with it, hm?,” he answers. ” So, does that mean you like them?”

You nod before continuing with your concerns. "But, Jean, we just came here to get a pair of shoes.”

He’s quick to respond, "Looks like there’s a change in plans then.”

A giggle leaves your lips, and it’s music to Jean’s ears. He searches through the boxes until he finds a pair of the shoes that fit you. He doesn’t even need to ask; he already knows your size by heart.

You guys spend a good half hour shopping in that one store alone. Jean is meticulous in choosing shoes for you, considering things you hadn’t even thought of. “Baby, you don’t like wearing stilettos, you said they make you walk funny. Also, you hate the colour red.”

You squint suspiciously at Jean’s statements, but you know he’s right. He somehow knows what you like better than you, but it’s all part of his mindfulness. He stores away minute details in his head about you, stuff that didn’t even seem significant in the moment. You barely recall a few months ago when your uncle gifted you a pair of heels for your birthday. You were showing Jean what they looked like over facetime as you struggled to walk a mere 10 feet in them across the room.

“I’m gonna fall and break my damn neck.,” you complain, and you glance at your phone to see the lovestruck look on Jean’s face as he smiles at you. “High heels are so hard to walk in.”

You think of the way Jean laughs with you when you eventually slip and fall on your butt. Or how, despite the giggles and guffaws he let out, he has an express look of concern in his eyes as he suggests you take a break from the heels so that you don’t injure yourself. It’s a happy memory, and though it feels a bit fuzzy and almost nonexistent, you know Jean remembers every bit of it.

#jean x reader #jean x you #jean x y/n #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschstein x reader #jean fluff #jean kirstein fluff #aot imagines #jean kirstein imagine

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lightlycareless · 11 months

Text

First, it hurts— Chapter XXX

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: misogyny, period talk, delusions, some slight medical talk, mentions of infidelity, baby stuff. Y/N does not like Naoya. 😬 And a certain someone is more... annoying than usual. Be prepared.

A/N: nothing much except look at the title lmao, I hope it doesn't get flagged or something.

Oh! I guess there is something I need to say lol. My birthday is coming up, and since I want to make the best of it hehe, the next update will be postponed to the week after! Meaning a new chapter will be posted on June 25! 🤭❤️ Thank you so much for your patience and support 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'll be announcing it throughout the week either way.

Without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 31

Ao3 link.

“—It’s expected that this upcoming winter will be one of the harshest ones we’ve seen in years. Public safety has sent out a statement requesting civilians to prepare accordingly by sav—”

Naoya reaches over to the power button by the dashboard and then turns off the radio.

He thought that by filling the ever-growing uncomfortable silence between the two with the voice of the broadcaster, he’d be able to ignore the grave rift that struck his marriage.

Make it a bit more tolerable, if it couldn’t be minimized to a point of non-existence, and work from there—but if anything, his actions only made his lapse more obvious, and dreadfully so.

When he once believed silence to represent submission, the assimilation of your place beside —or beneath— him, as well as the comprehension of your new life and the seeming no escape from it… he was, once again, proven that this was not as fulfilling as he pretended.

Not even when you were informed of his intentions of taking you to the doctor did he manage to incite a response from you, outside of apathy, and the impression that you’d only agreed to comply due to being essentially coerced to it… even if his mind desperately tried to console himself with the opposite.

Your face was just… there, expressionless, blank, as if he had no weight in your mind, as if he weren’t even there, like the interaction that transpired when you joined him at the estate.

From that point forward, not a single word slipped through your lips, aside from the occasional curt nod or hum you gave as a response to his attempts in making conversation whilst driving towards the first destination.

It’s clear that you were not interested in getting anything out of him that wasn’t related to today’s purpose, and it's here that he realizes hatred isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference—and he does not like, not one bit.

If he was to be completely honest, Naoya didn’t hold much hope when it came to obtaining anything positive regarding this outing, at least in the very beginning.

Not even Ranta’s guidance, who had provided him with the basic outline of what steps to take, carefully guiding him through each and every one of them, as well as disclosing what he’ll be reaping if everything went as planned, was enough to reassure him in his entirety; until it did, after continuous encouragements that is.

But there is one thing that he was capable of admitting, and that was that your cold treatment towards him, at least to this degree, was not in the intended arrangement.

From the brief moments he was allowed to sway his sight from the road and to your direction, he was able to notice that your eyes were solely set on the window, past the glass and onto the fleeting scenery. And if not there, on your lap, with your fidgeting fingers.

At first he unfussily assumed that you were partaking in sightseeing, admiring the change of scenery from the well-kept fauna back at the estate onto the withering trees, one of the many symbols that winter has, or was, arriving.

In fact, if one was being particularly observant, he could even notice that the nearby mountains were starting to fill up with snow, resting just by its peak, preparing to gradually make its way down to the skirts…

Had he not caught the way your body was not-so-discreetly leaning towards the window, seeking to keep as far away as physically possible from him, and in such way that made him believe you were also considering jumping out through the window at any given opportunity, and consequently running to your freedom in an unknown location…?

A train of thought that rooted from his own self doubt, one that burned with the assumption that your infatuation with his brother was so big, you couldn’t even stand to not be with anyone but him.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kept silent during a car ride alongside him, but back then, he doesn't recall ever feeling like this, maybe because the circumstances were different.

At the beginning of this marriage, you’d at least entertain his questions when he spoke to you. Even going as far as willingly putting on the front that you were “interested” in what he had to say by encouraging the conversation, regardless if it was just to appeal to his “good humor” and avoid a discussion…

But the two are way past that point, and the silent, agonizing treatment you’re giving him now, is the fire that ignited his mind into spiraling,—the first of that day— into feigned scenarios as a desperate cry for answers.

Just as it would happen in this particular moment, when instead of wondering what he could do to invite you to open up to him, either by retaking one of the many topics mentioned in the radio, or simply by choosing an innocent ice-breakers intended to soothe perilous environments like these, he decided to fill in the voids by imagining the kind of behavior you’d have if it was his brother, Naoaki, the one bringing you to the doctor instead of him.

Would you have kept silent, wanting nothing more than to observe the changing horizon, a refreshing sight away from the confining walls of the estate? Or perhaps strike a conversation, just to make the journey a bit more enjoyable, faster even?

If that were the case, what kind of things would you say? Would you share a personal story? Tell a joke? Perhaps even list the things you’d like to do in the city? Maybe even… glance at him, you place your hand over his, as you sweetly smile at him instead of scowling out the window?

Naoya swallows, grip tightening on the tire as he forces himself to refocus on the road ahead.

Ranta had told him that his plan, aside from offering a good perception to the elders and his father (which was equally important as anything else in this particular moment) was also intended to provide him with a moment to reconnect with his wife, away from outside influences, and perhaps… start anew.

«It’s not going to be easy, Naoya. But usually anything worthwhile is—and you know that better than anyone»

His words are what kept him grounded in this difficult moment, so to speak, to not give up so easily, for this was only the start of the day and… so much had occurred between the two, things that nobody ever expected to happen (per the words of the staff and himself) so who knows what might be different this time out?

The two eventually arrive at the city in a much quicker and safer way than anticipated.

But that wasn’t surprising, of course, since these were the early hours of the day, where the vast majority of the population had yet to wake up and get ready, thus, keeping the roads clear for a comfortable and quick transit, just as it occurred at this very moment.

This is often a good omen for many that wished to interpret it that way, the sensation of having arrived early to their appointment and subsequently, the rest of the day’s venture’s was as fulfilling as a job well done, but for you, who didn’t expect much from this encounter to begin with (compared to Naoya who still held a sliver of hope) it meant nothing—nothing at all.

At least not something that you considered in your benefit, considering that ever since you were made aware of his intentions, worsening when you stepped into the car and drove away from those you wished to be with, you began to be haunted by this constant, heavy and tormenting feeling of déjà vu.

The vivid fear that all that will happen, already happened before.

There was something pricking you at the back of your mind that constantly reminded you that this had been nothing more than a full-blown mistake, a gamble that you shouldn’t have taken less if you wanted to receive the same “prize” as before, … if not worse given the circumstances that surrounded this invitation.

But these judgments were, in the same breath as the ones that tortured you, irrelevant considering that you’ve already made your decision. It’s of no use to feel regretful about it—especially when there was no backing out anymore. You’d just end up suffering twice at this point.

Instead, you’ve tried redirecting your energy into focusing on the main reason why you ended up coming, that being the concerns regarding your health, the same ones you desperately needed closure on for your peace of mind.

Even if you were initially blind to it, too focused on keeping distance between you and Naoya above anything else, Naoaki was right by telling you that this was something you had to protect from Naoya’s grasp at all costs, as well as entitled to know. That you shouldn’t allow him to take anything else from you, when he’s already done so many times… that would only give him more power.

Outside of the somewhat tense antecedents that had more than enough justification to reappear, the other thing that took space in your mind, perhaps an attempt to distract you from your present, would be the changes across the city.

They were minimal, almost unnoticeable if you were a frequent visitor—the closure of a shop, the expansion of a building, advertisements showing off newer products, updated services, lower rates for whatever credit card the bank of your choice was now offering.

But you weren’t there everyday, so for you, they were all but obvious.

It was a bit… reassuring , so to speak. It managed to give you a sensation you could only identify as comfort , perhaps even optimism, as if fate was telling you that things were not to remain identically horrifying as that day.

But just as you were given this encouragement, you were likewise cruelly reminded of how long you’ve been apart from your family, which only made you wonder when was the last time since you saw them.

Your staff and Naoaki made their absence marginally bearable, giving you the sense of security you desperately needed; but just as they were invigorating, they were correspondingly bittersweet, for you know deep inside your mind that they could never be their replacement.

Not that any of them intended to do so, but something about not having your family close to you, your sister, your brother, even your seemingly estranged father, a breach of the promise Naoya made on your wedding day… it was tortuous, for a lack of better words—worse when you realized you had yet to hear anything from your sister and your continuous attempts of contact.

Nevertheless, this was a topic that would be suited for another moment, one that permitted you to become vulnerable, yet away from Naoya’s undeserving eyes, as well avoiding bringing that energy to the doctor whom you couldn’t label as anything else but misogynistically dismissive about your health (ironic with the career that he has) which you are to meet in just a few minutes, when your husband makes the left turn in the quickly approaching exit you rightfully recognized and enters the underground parking lot.

Or so that’s what you expected to occur, until he unprecedentedly takes a different route, making a turn to the right , following the street into another avenue.

If the sense of déjà vu that continuously kept you company throughout the entirety of your trip, as if talking about a ghostly third passenger, reminded you ever so sharply that you were anything but off the hook of today’s possible mishaps already had you on edge, his unforeseen detour made efficient work to place you in an unspeakably worse disposition.

It’s the outcome you anticipatedly—yet in a repudiating manner— envisioned he’d commit as soon as he secured you in his grasp.

Alone, away from those that could possibly help you, or at least… make your suffering a bit more bearable, and secluded from those that might dare, for him to commit his atrocities comfortably.

Tightly clutching to the skirt of your kimono with your now sweaty hands, you hold your breath as your mind sprints to evoke all the preparation you could possibly muster for what’s to come, interpretations that only serve to paint your horrid future in the darkest of shades as he continues to take you into an unknown destination.

The movie in your minds eye plays on virtually uninterrupted, that is, until a tall gray tower manages to catch your attention, coincidentally the one that Naoya seems to be driving towards, verified by the way he begins to slow down, turn on the direction onto it’s direction, and steer into what you categorize as the entrance to it’s designated parking for all visitors.

The car is stopped just a few feet past the marked entrance by a man, a valet driver as described by the logo embroidered in its shirt, who hastily walks over to Naoya’s side, presumably to request his keys.

Your uncertainty remains linear as Naoya rolls the window down, wondering just what kind of place he was intending to take you—it’s only until the man asks your husband which office he plans on visiting for the day (alongside the directory you saw later on when entering said building) did you realize that he had taken you to perform none other than the examinations the gynecologist ordered you to take after your last consultation—in his words, to ensure that your health was… “in order”.

At this revelation, all that you could think is… how… redundant . Alongside the cluster of baffling, surprised, but most of all, angering , emotions you were dumped with to deal.

Considering the tightness of today's timetable, which you only learned thanks to Mariya, it felt like your health was almost an afterthought for Naoya—and perhaps that wouldn’t be that much of a absurd assumption, since most of his family didn’t care about your overall fitness but rather, your value in terms of fertility.

In a more direct manner to you, it was safe to say that Naoya didn't care to make these appointments before when time was still in abundance. He only did them now because he needed a way to get you out of the estate, as much as he could, and what better excuse than to do all of this right at this moment?

Bringing you to the doctor was just something extra, something he performed out of duty and not of need, perhaps even to reiterate his standing with his family so he wouldn’t look so pathetic before them.

And while some of your thoughts were accurate when describing part of his inner workings, the rest were something else…

But that’s not something you were meant to know, at least, not now. Not when you mind had the sole goal of purposely getting what you need and heading back to the estate as soon as possible.

Because to you, Naoya and his attempts were nothing .

Nothing but poor excuses, him grasping at straws for a reality he’d lost in a matter of seconds for his poor decisions, last-ditch efforts to regain your trust under the pretense it was there, just covered, misplaced perhaps.

When the reality was much different. Vastly so.

It was never there to begin with.

After going through various offices with different doctors, depending of the specialist you were to see, and getting your exams done it’s when you realize why Naoya had chosen this specific place instead of the usual labs most people went to, the one that were scattered across the country for accessible usage: it’s because here, with the gentle persuasion of money, the results could be available in less than an hour.

It’s one of the many benefits from having money, you know well, to be able to pay the equivalent of time in currency and just move on.

Had this occurred in the universe where you actually had an amicable relationship with your husband, you would’ve been impressed. You would’ve seen his efforts as if trying to rush through something you were evidently distressed about, judged by the way you were less than thrilled to be poked and prodded as some kind of extravagant bug , and get you the help you needed for something that afflicted you even greater.

But as with all things with him, you didn’t feel anything but animosity towards his “attempts” to care , because as much as he tried to convince you that his actions were of genuine interest by carefully guiding you through procedures, asking you to take a seat as he checked-in, and once that was set, bringing you water, asking if there was something you wanted to eat in the meantime… you knew it was nothing more than actions to fuel his own agenda.

“Get on with it” as you recall him saying in between flashes of pain and anguish the day Mariya brought him to see you in your bedroom to verify you were telling the truth…

As if. Once again, you were an afterthought, an inconvenience. A guinea pig he had the misfortune of acquiring under false pretenses made by your elders who were all too eager to get rid of so as to make up for your sister’s mistakes, and now had to waste time and money trying to fix you, give you a purpose, before you’re labeled as a total loss and afterwards, discard you.

Confirmation of the cruel views from those that were supposed to protect you…

Well, Naoya could think whatever he wanted, and you wouldn’t care.

You’d remain silent, just as he always expected you to be and push through this unpleasant moment until you’re finally back with your loved ones—Ironic that he now wants the opposite, but it only serves to show how oscillating he was.

After the results were ready, you and Naoya headed back to the underground parking lot, waiting a few minutes in the designated area to get the keys of his car by the same valet driver from before and finally heading to the building you anticipated to go first.

The trip there had been fast, the calmness of the streets still present even after two hours had gone by, making it available to take the familiar left turn into the same underground parking and leaving the car in the first spot he found in the appropriate place for those visiting your specialist.

When the sudden silence that follows the quieting down of the engine makes your breath hitch on your throat, like the realization that the moment you were unobtrusively forecasting is finally here.

You knew this was going to happen, yet, it remained as nerve-wracking as it was the first time, and as you hurriedly prepare to get out of the car, just before he’s able to do as much —because you obviously didn’t want to be near him any more than you’ve done in the past instances— you gather all the courage you could and set your worries aside as you finally unlock the door, jump out of the car, quickly fixing the skirt of your kimono, and walk.

Having remembered the path from last time, you don’t even bother to wait for Naoya or even allow him to manhandle you into the office just as he’d done in the others; In fact, you seem to purposely mute off his rushed footsteps, which were dangerously close to you, as you hurriedly made way to the elevator doors and press the button just besides it, to call the lift.

One that arrives painfully slow, giving Naoya enough time to catch up to you.

A bell rings, and then, the doors open—with it, offering the color-draining visage of the sour position you distractedly set yourself to be in thanks to your urgency: confinement, in a small place with him .

You were able to avoid such placement up to this moment due the placement of the labs. They were on the first floor, meaning that it was only a matter of walking up a few steps to get to them; and even if you needed to be guided by him, you were still able to keep some distance.

A feat that was further gratifyingly possible thanks to the “patients only” policy imposed by said locations, which kept him at the waiting area and away from you.

As well as thanks to his concentration when driving, eyes solely focused on the road as he took you from one point to the other. Even when he was angry, as you remembered, he was never one to endanger himself behind the wheel, so you didn’t need to worry about him trying to do anything… undesirable in the mean time.

In other words, steering from him had been a relatively easy task due to unprecedented actions by fate.

But that was only to be short-lived when destiny deemed it your time to receive your own dosage of karma, and in such a tiny, exposing way, that all you could hope is that he would find it in him to compose himself before arriving to the doctor, so as to prevent publicly humiliating one another yet again, as your heart begins to painfully beat against your chest.

Thus, you hold your breath yet again, waiting for the moment to come that he’ll speak and tell you something that will hurt you, berate you, clenching your hands as you envision how you want nothing more than to be with Naoaki—

But as seconds pass… nothing happens. Instead, all that he does is step into the elevator, take the empty spot beside you and swiftly press the floor number on the pad —one that you didn’t place in yourself due to your seeming forgetfulness—before reacting his hand to his side.

The door closes, and then, it’s nothing but silence.

White noise is what fills the air and distracts you from the uneasy presence Naoya brings to you, and would’ve presumably continued so, that is, until by some strange reason, he finally decides to do what you awaited him to do—although… in a vastly different depiction:

Speak.

“How… are you?” he murmurs, body shifting to your direction, as his eyes travel from the ground to you.

It’s the first word Naoya directs to you—outside of the “I got you more water” and “Are you ready?”’s that he gave you a few hours before. Different too, from the attempts he tried to convey of socializing at the car, when it came to analyzing his behavior.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being… hesitant .

An answer that would’ve made you scoff if you weren’t speechless beyond any reasonable doubt.

«Why?» Is all that you ask yourself «Why did he ask me that, of all things? When… when he—when all that he’s done is hurt me with his indifference?»

The thing is, Naoya only spoke at this moment because he’d been trying to gather enough courage to do so.

After all, the way you’d continuously ignored him through every step of the way was far more agonizing than he could have anticipated, as well as realizing that he didn’t have the necessary skills to do what his best friend had requested him to do.

Ranta tasked him with perhaps the most strenuous job he’d ever faced in his life, and that would be, to be gentle with you.

Treat you as if you were a flower, show that he cared about you and your health, and that he wasn’t simply doing this out of attempting to conceive a positive image with the elders, and get to know you while at it.

But that was to be a heavy task for the man that had never been one to care for others outside his personal interest, or professional life—he never showed sympathy or interest for his relatives, extending to his coworkers, less for the cursed enemies he was set to destroy… And unmistakingly, for the woman that was to be his wife.

… So one could only imagine the pressure that fell on his shoulders when Ranta approached him with this request, more so when you were unwilling to participate, and when he still remained blind to the factual reasoning behind your behavior.

But Naoya was a persistent man, and once he’s set something in his mind, he scrambles to make the best of his circumstances and continue on.

“I mean, we’re going to the doctor and I can’t imagine that’s any fun, so I just wanted to know if there’s—”

You don’t say you don’t want to speak with him, but the way you slightly turn your body away from him is all that he needs for an answer.

Naoya’s eyes fall back to the ground, pressing his lips together before looking back to the door.

His go-to reaction often pertains to a violent outburst of emotion when someone evidently rejects him, berating them for not acknowledging his status and believing themselves to be above his recognition , but after all that’s happened… he—he doesn’t seem to have the energy to do so.

He doesn’t want to push you away anymore. Not if you’re to run to his brother’s arms…

The elevator eventually stops at the aforementioned floor, dinging before the doors slide open. Without seconds to waste, and wanting nothing more than to be away from him, you’re the first to step outside, making your way to the office as the location comes back to you, and only stopping once you’re before the entrance.

Whether Naoya is right behind you, or a few steps more than that, you don’t care. Not when you’ve already alerted the receptionist to be there by ringing the nearby bell and unlocking the door soon after.

If he wants to be let inside, then you guess he’ll have to hurry—which he does upon seeing you push the door, running to your side and placing his hand over the door to keep it open for you, a gesture that has you immediately releasing the door in favor of scampering ahead and distant from him.

This has him faltering his movements for a second, rooting him on the spot, before the lingering, attentive gaze of the receptionist shamefully pulls him away from his thoughts and back to the present.

Once inside, both are inundated by a wave of familiarity just by getting a quick glimpse at its surroundings—it had remain virtually the same since their last time there, with the exception of the flowers at the glass vase in the middle of the room; when once they were lilies they were now jasmines; well according to the minimalist, colorless yet clean aesthetic of the reception.

«Doctors and their obsession with white» is what you decide to comment about the decoration. Naoya doesn’t give it any thought.

Perhaps the only thing that you wished had been different was the doctor in question, for all the things that you were not looking forward to, his scrutiny was high on the list.

But that’s a topic that’s been appropriately dealt with, no point of getting it out of the confines of your mind once you’re in the man’s waiting room. You just have to… endure it. For your health.

Naoya, as before, is the one to check in with the receptionist. And after doing so, he makes way to the seat besides yours, just to receive another dosage of your alienation.

It didn’t take much longer than a mere few seconds before the doctor, with a few more gray hairs that either can perceive—another passage of time— comes out of his office to receive the couple.

“Zen’in-san!” The man cheerfully greets, a smile on his face, as he approaches you.

Although the message could be easily perceived as delegated to the two, the way his eyes don’t peel away from your husband, as well as how he amicably greets him as if an old friend, gives you the basic understanding of how your consultation is going to proceed.

If only invisibility was a perk that worked in your favor, and not against…

“It’s good to see you and your wife again! Back for a check-up?”

“As agreed.” Naoya says, standing up as he reaches for the extended hand of the doctor and shaking it, with you dejectedly doing the same.

“It’s been a while, I was starting to worry something bad had occurred!”

Naoya remains quiet, knowing well that to talk about his personal life with strangers was rude—but oh, how he wanted to agree…

“Just busy” is what he concedes, and once the doctor gestures to them to follow him, Naoya automatically places his hand behind your back, wanting nothing more than to guide you in the way that Ranta had hinted some women might like.

Unfortunately for him, you were going to be the exception in that data pool, and as soon as you sensed his touch you retaliated by taking a quick step forward, peeling away from his hand and taking the lead for yourself.

If Naoya, or the doctor for that matter, had reacted to your antipathy, you didn’t notice—nor cared to do so as you continued on by taking a seat on the same chair as you did last time. Although you could presume they did, arguing by the peculiar look the receptionist seemed to give Naoya after your sudden detachment.

You’d had to admit that you were a bit ashamed by acting in a way many would consider childish… but you had your reasons, and that’s something that they’ll have to eventually removed from their minds, just as you did when refocusing on the doctor who had taken his seat behind the desk, as you now wondered what was taking him so long to begin.

That would be an easily answered question, one that you were heavily involved in, to no one’s surprise.

Turns out that the doctor had noticed these small behaviors, consequences of your fissured marriage, and just as soon as his eyes landed on the two.

The air surrounding them was engulfed with a heavy, yet cold aura that gave him the sensation that he wasn’t necessarily welcomed there, more precisely, he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to. Yet, his discomfort wasn’t enough to distinguish just quite the reason behind this change, that is, until he arrived at his designated seat and was finally able to take a good look at the two.

It’s then that the revelation unveiled itself before him: It’s as if you and Naoya switched bodies!

An assumption that rooted from his remembrance of Naoya’s less-than-thrilled demeanor last time he was there, allegedly only doing so because he was roped into it—and you, troubled, if not pessimistic, from all the arduous trials you were put through on the days before, with no solution to be seen in the near future…

It now appeared as if you were the one that didn’t want to be there, odd considering it was your specialist. And Naoya… Well, he didn’t necessarily look like he was enjoying his time there either, but something about the muteness in his eyes gave the man the impression that he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

One would think the doctor was proficient in divination for his theories weren’t that far off from the truth, however, that is something that would only remain as that: speculations, for it didn’t pertain to his field nor was he being paid to do so.

Still, that didn’t stop him from admiring just how interesting these turn of events were…

The doctor returns to his job by glancing at the monitor whilst vigorously typing into the keyboard, seemingly pulling up your file before quickly skimming through it to refresh his memory about your case.

Once he’s gathered enough information of what he’s dealing with, the man glances up to the estranged couple, clears his throat, and begins.

“So, tell me, what has happened during this time that we have not seen each other?” He asks, or more precisely, he asks your husband, evident by his set look on him—the way your voice is discarded even when it pertains to your issues made you want to scoff, but you managed to hold it back by clenching your hands instead. “How has her body behaved since the last time we saw each other?”

Naoya blinks, looks at you (as if trying to urge you on, before going back to the doctor. It's only after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence between the 3 that he realizes it's him who he was speaking to.

After snapping out of his seeming trance, the heir swallows and proceeds.

“I… I think fine” he responds, voice uncertain as he's forced to reflect just how much in the dark he was regarding you in the days he was away.

Will that stop him from speaking ignorantly, and instead, seek you to state the truth?

No— of course not. After all, it's him who's being acknowledged, not you.

And will he deny that this reason mainly stood because it made him feel, somewhere deep inside him, special? As if he was actually being considered for issues regarding you, contrary to how the estate was quick to disregard him after his failures?

That'd also be a negative answer. How… disappointing.

“The staff said that she had a rather calmer… period than last time” he adds, and the doctor soon begins to type these declarations into your file. “Oh, that’s good” he concurred, squinting his eyes as he glanced towards the monitor before clearing his throat yet again “And it says here that you… your wife had some tears inside her vagina, had there been any issues with that ?” He circles back to the couple, a seemingly innocent question intended to get nothing more out of them than what he needs, but there was something about his wording that incited something lurid inside your husband, which would only grow as the consultation went on.

“Not… that I would know” Naoya then looks at you, as if hoping to see your reaction by a not-so-hidden motive, but your gaze is intently fixed at the ground, careless of the world around you, and thus, you don’t see his gestures outside of the corner of your eye which would pass unregistered in due time.

Your lack of response manages to baffle him, even if it was just for a moment, but why would that be?

You’re keeping quiet, letting the men talk, because at the end of the day, isn’t that what they wanted? To make their own decision since there was no one else more suited to do so than themselves?

Or perhaps did he expect you to give yourself away through a subtle grimace? Just as the rumors in the estate seemed to blame you with?

Something began to brew inside your mind.

“We… haven’t been together in a while. I’ve been busy with work, and she has the house to tend after, so … yes. I don’t know” Naoya reiterates and the doctor raises his eyebrows.

“ Really ?” To say he was skeptical would be an understatement. Because given the peculiar context behind your husband, he found it hard to believe that someone like him would’ve kept his hands away from his wife, especially for as long as their last appointment to today.

He still recalls the disturbance etched across his features once he was presented with the suggestion of giving you a break for just a few days if you were to heal appropriately. Something that seemingly ended up lasted way longer than intended, up until now.

Did Naoya, the womanizer, have a change of heart? And if so, was he telling the truth?

Or perhaps… you did?

“Is that true, Mrs. Zen’in?” he inquired, now nudging in your direction.

“Yes” you said curtly, unwilling to give anything more—not if it wasn’t of your interest, and less if he was to proceed as you suspected “He’s telling the truth”

“And you haven’t done anything with anyone else?” He prods on, and his implication, even one that you knew was coming, still manages to sting you, as well as perk Naoya’s ears to his full, undivided, attention.

No stranger to these kinds of tactics, you’re quick to catch his dark intentions and slide them off from your mind as quickly as you could. Because they’re all the same, cut from the same fabric, these kinds of men that is. Believing if you aren’t a prude, you’re some kind of seductress that can’t keep it in her pants, right?

If your husband was right, it was only obvious that you were wrong.

And that wasn’t even to be the worst in this situation—that was something that Naoya earned once again, ever the accomplished one.

He should’ve taken this moment to speak up and put a stop to the doctor’s less than professional questions, demanding that he treat his wife with respect and subsequently his marriage… but you’ve long understood to not expect anything from the arrogant man you had the misfortune of calling your husband.

He, the one you’ve long come to understand that doesn’t care for anyone else but for him, remains quiet as his mind disregards the doctor’s question as nothing outside the norm —perhaps because he was already subjected to this kind of scrutiny before— failing to notice just how wrong and invasive his questions were as he continues to avoid reality by allowing his mind to pull him into a dark place, the second time that day.

The doctor’s question hits the nail when it comes to bringing up the topic that has been plaguing him ever since rumors of your supposed—no, not supposed, certain— relationship with his brother began, as well as the roots of his insecurities.

The sight of him leaving your chambers is enough evidence to cite as something happening…

Naoya knows Ranta would disapprove of this sentiment, for he was the one that begged him to not jump to conclusions. Even if you and Naoaki were undeniably closer than many would’ve liked their partner to be with their in-law, it might just be nothing more than a friendship at the end of the day, one that rose due to his absence—

Yet, it seems like only he and his friend were the ones that still believed that, because the rest of the people around them acted as if they knew exactly what was going on, even going as far as mocking him about it.

And now, the doctor was the newest addition to that group.

Was it really… that obvious?

Either way, regardless of what is seen in the eyes of others, he can’t help but wonder… even if it’s wrong that the man is intruding in such a crude manner, what your answer might be.

After all, there’s no more efficient way to quiet the rumors than to get the opinion of a health professional , right? Even if there are lies sprinkled in between, Naoya knows the doctor will see right through them, and put an end to his misery, once and for all…

It’s why his heart was beating heavily against his chest, to the point where he felt his ears start ringing and his throat tightening as he intently looked at you, anxiously awaiting for your revealing answer…!

“I haven’t” you respond truthfully and without hesitation. A tone that sort of passes undetected to Naoya, who all he can do at this very moment is focus on your words and the truthfulness behind them, but not to the incredulous doctor, who is quick to refute them as soon as they fall into his ears.

“ Is that so? ” the doctor challenges, with the same kind of tone you’ve always heard Naoya use condescendingly against you when provided with the answers they sought—it’s not your fault they aren’t what they wanted. Had they desired to hear something in specific, they should’ve told you, given you a script to study and replicate. “Then what happened during these days you were away? You didn’t have any… needs before or during your period?”

“No” you deny once again, pushing through the disgust his suggestions bring you to defend your integrity. “I was nauseous for a week straight , I barely ate anything because I knew I would just throw it right back out—at one point I just stopped trying. And if that wasn’t enough, my cramps and flow were rather… heavier this occasion, binding me to my bed”

The doctor continues stares at you, as if dissecting your words before eventually looking back at the computer screen and seemingly writing them in as an addition to your record. Whether he added a note to take your words with a grain of salt or not, eluded you, for what bothered you the most was the fact that you had to justify your lifestyle beyond a single no , when with Naoya, he could literally tell him the most outrageous thing and you were sure he wouldn’t question it. Which he did!

Any other professional would’ve taken your word for it and moved on, but as you’ve stated before, the men you'd unfortunately surrounded yourself with ever since your introduction to the Zen'in have been nothing but doubtful when it comes to you—as if you’d given them plentiful reasons to do so.

As if you were the one that wronged them.

But while the doctor seemed to be uninterested in your truth, simply adding your explanation to his realms of possibilities out of formality, Naoya was nothing if not shocked by this revelation.

Your statement had come out of nowhere, in a way, and without prior signs that would have lessened the surprise of his miscalculations.

Whenever he inquired about your period, in the rare moments he bothered to care, his staff would solely rely on what your ladies obliged, what's to be the same answer every time: she’s fine .

Thus, it was natural to assume he was considerably baffled upon learning that there was more than what you and your entourage were letting on.

The revelation unwittingly takes him back to the moment where he learned of your 14 days of continuous bleeding as soon as he returned back home.

Recollecting the distressed look on your face he got to see when he visited your room upon demanding to see proof of such a claim, not believing their words for they were nothing but distressing , if not impossible.

Your status back then, although not as critical as the doctor would later declare, was surprising in itself for your husband to get you checked. So to hear an even worse repercussion bewildered him — yet, there was still something in his mind that forbade him from comprehending the complexity of your case, at least emphatically, stemming from the absence of trust between the two.

Naoya wonders.

Was this… your truth? Did you really… Did you really spend a whole week feeling indisposed, locked in your room, forced to keep away from the rest of the estate, while unable to eat or drink anything?

If so, why wasn’t he made aware of this? Why did your staff think it necessary to lie to him about it? Even if he knew something about it, it was briefly and through Ranta's knowledge… something that wasn't his duty.

It was you who should’ve ordered your ladies to inform him of your factual status, after all, the two had a common enemy: your imminent death.

One that could only be stopped if you got pregnant, a circumstance that would happen if both compromised.

It doesn't make sense. He doesn’t know why you didn’t tell him. He… he doesn’t understand why.

Did you not… did you not want to avoid that ?

His concern for you in that matter is evident, more so when he's reminded the clock continues to tick when it comes to your end.

And yet, far from being intrigued by your condition, or interested in finding a way on how to prevent his father's tyranny from striking his life yet again, his secluded mind pulls him into a dark place, the same one as before, which makes him frightfully ponder…

Was Naoaki there when everything happened? Was this the moment you became acquainted with him? Or perhaps… the moment the two became closer?

Did he ask you about your health, worry about you, or did you tell him about these things without the need of being asked?

Naoya is in agony thinking about just how much you've shared of your life with his brother, but the world around him doesn't stop, neither cares to comfort him as the doctor continues on.

"Alright" he says, typing in the last details of your file before pushing himself up from the chair. "I'm going to take your weight and from there we'll do an ultrasound. Follow me, please”

You frown. The need for an ultrasound seems redundant to you—and it is , for you just had an ultrasound performed on you a few hours ago, printed in the highest quality current technology permitted, and above all, from that same day.

Luckily, it seems that Naoya's two brain cells manage to remind him of that, prompting him to speak up.

"That won't be necessary, I have an ultrasound from today here" your husband says, offering the doctor the white folder he'd brought along with him. The man seems to stare at it for a few seconds, as if trying to discern what it was, before reaching inside for its contents.

He slips the black material out, eyes squinting as he carefully analyzes the image on it before responding.

"It's wrong, I'll have to do one myself"

It doesn’t take you longer than a few seconds for you to realize it was the same apprehension controlling his present decisions.

In other words, he believed your examinations were not genuine, fabricated, and needed to see the truth before his own eyes through his own merit.

It angers you that not only were you subjected to all kinds of exams, as if you were some kind of alien life form yet to be identified (and from a very early hour at that) but also, that it had been all for nothing!

Nonetheless, knowing well that arguing with a wall is nothing more than a waste of time and energy, you begrudgingly agree to silently obey his orders by walking towards the digital scale (another major difference from your last consultation, where he'd given you the benefit of the doubt and trusted your words) followed carefully removing your footwear —holding onto the wall when necessary to not lose balance— while feeling the heavy gazes of the doctor and your husband burning holes on your back, as if urging you to step on the platform, which you did only a few seconds after.

Once the screen begins to blink signifying it was calculating your weight, your gaze wanders away. The topic of body weight never being an enjoyable one for you to partake in, less when it came from a medical standpoint—for you never seemed to be in the right parameters, you're either too low, too high, or the source of all of your illnesses, but never just a number.

Oh well.

After being virtually subdued to a diet consisting solely of rabbit food, you expect it to be on the lower side of the spectrum. You even fail to consider the clandestine portions of mochi in between meals as influential enough to affect these numbers

A thought that gains recognition when the scale beeps and the doctor releases a hum of pleasant surprise, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

"Ah, you've actually lost quite an amount of weight" he reiterates, and you can only assess his statement with a nod thanks to the number you recall providing last time, but that’s not what irked you of this exchange, for such trivialities had long fallen into your own realm of indifference.

What irritates you the most is how he doesn’t even care to wonder if perhaps this was a side effect of your nauseating crusade weeks ago, a symptom of the days you didn’t eat a single thing because you were too disgusted to do so, or maybe another hormonal repercussion for having halted your treatment so abruptly.

No, he just assumes what many people do: that any weight loss is a good loss, and this only leads you , in turn, to wonder why you even considered coming along in the first place.

«Because I need to know if I’m completely healed» is what you console yourself with as you step down from the scale, putting your shoes on as you head back to your seat.

"But be careful to not lose that much weight, it's necessary for a woman to remain healthy if the baby is to be healthy as well. Be sure to feed her more protein, Zen'in-san" At his mention, Naoya blinks out of another trance and looks at the doctor before giving a quick nod, the impression that he’d been closely attentive to his words and surroundings, and not on his stupid and baseless thoughts regarding you and your alleged paramour.

The only positive thing to come out of this specific circumstance , you dare to assume, is the possibility of eating meat again, which you could only imagine how despondent Junko was going to be when she heard of this. All of her efforts of converting you into vegetarianism —the lifestyle your in-laws were surprisingly involved in— foiled in less than a day.

Although you're sure she'd find a way to avoid red meat one way or the other, because proved yet again and again, what you want isn't exactly what you're going to get .

"I will" Naoya acknowledged before his eyes land on you, gazes crossing for a second before you’re quick to look away. He presses his lips together, pushing down the sensation of your indifference (which only stung harder when remembering the smile you gave his brother before leaving the estate) in favor of focusing on something else. Your weight, for example.

Now that the doctor mentioned it, he does recall feeling you to be a bit thinner in his arms the last time he held you, but he simply assumed it had been his long absence to be deceiving him.

He didn't know what to think of this change, for he never cared about those things when it came to you, he considered himself to be accepting of you however you were. But not of your relations, and certainly not with his bro—

His course of thought is quickly interjected with the continuation of the consultation by the way the doctor gestures to you head towards the other room: the same place where you'd been ludicrously exposed before the two under the pretenses of medical necessities , the one harboring the infamous gynecologist chair as well as the ultrasound machine and monitor—set to perform the exam he believed counterfeit by abhorrent reasons.

At this, Naoya is prompted to stand up and follow the pair, taking quick strides to grace your side, placing his hand behind your back as he attempts to guide you towards the door.

An act that burns and exposes your skin every single time upon feeling his hand on you, a sensation you rush to alleviate by skipping ahead, arriving much faster than anticipated to the chair and jumping onto it, carefully exposing whatever is necessary for your ultrasound soon after.

Naoya remains quiet as he sees you get ready, but his mind was all but lively with sensations of rejection and solitude shackling in his heart.

Well, what did he expect? That just because he woke up and decided to act eerily you’d reciprocate his intentions?

As if.

Once completely reclined and with your stomach exposed, the doctor applies the infamously cold gel on your skin before taking the probe and spreading it evenly.

After that he glances at the nearby monitor and begins the search for what you presume to be your ovaries—the eyes of your husband and yours doing the same as his.

The monitor showed all kinds of black and white swirls, layered upon roughed textures as the doctor moved the scanner from one side of your stomach to the other, applying ever so slight pressure from time to time as if trying to obtain a clearer image, whilst his glance remained fixated on said figures, none clear to either’s untrained eye.

The doctor knew very well what he was looking for, however in a way, Naoya did too.

As noted before, Naoya's mind has been in a rough spot since he'd learned he's (or on his way) losing you, worsening when his plan for this encounter was not going as expected.

His mind is so… out of touch with reality, twisted by his own delusions, that whenever something associates to you he can't help but wonder how this could relate back to his brother: from comparing how interactive you’d be with Naoaki if he were in his shoes, to how much you’ve shared of your life with him…

Culminating on how close the two were.

One could say that he really should be more trusting of his wife, that she had no reason to lie to the doctor who could easily debunk her assumptions with countless methods, but it's important to remember that Naoya wasn’t your typical husband—nor was this your typical marriage to begin with.

This union wasn’t formed under trust, or even love, it was an arrangement of convenience , of value, of whatever the groom and bride could get out of each other's family.

And because of this, all that Naoya could do was fix his stare at the screen as he… well, as he hopes to not find the semblance of life palpitating back at him on it.

The undeniable evidence that you were with child, and it was not his.

A question that took form ever since the elders "jokingly" brought it up, as well as when he saw his brother leave your chambers. If only the labs he'd taken you to didn't have such restrictive policies, he would've known by now.

But he didn't, and such was his fate to deal with the suffocating, sickly sensation that clung to him, feeding off his energy as seconds passed and no answer was given yet.

The room spins as his vision fogs up at the prospect of your infidelity.

If that were the case, he knew he'd have no standing to fight against it, no justification, not even as your rightful husband , or even heir … because right now, he'd lost all of those privileges.

But if the odds dictated you weren't pregnant… Well, it wouldn't be as great as a discovery either way for the prospect of your infertility would still be very much at hand, and the “positive” affluence that Ranta counted to be acquired from this visit would've been nothing more than wishful thinking—with your death sentence continuing on.

Whatever angle he takes, he loses.

But at least… at least there's one chance that you were indeed, not with his brother.

What a pathetic reassuring thought to have, when the underlying issue was much bigger than that…

After seconds of dismay and doubt, the monitor eventually broadcasts a somewhat identifiable figure and the man stops his search.

"Well, your ovaries seem ok, a good size" The doctor says as he reaches over to the nearby panel and freezes the image. After showing you so, he unfreezes the image and moves again, a bit lower this time before repeating the same stopping and freezing process at another figure. "The cervix is of a healthy size too, nothing unusual—in fact, there’s nothing ” he says, in a tone you could only distinguish as… disappointment?

Naoya feels a weight to be lifted from his shoulders as his chest decompresses through a not so subtle sigh, a sound that makes the doctor shoot him a piercing look, one that appears to ask “ Why are you glad? Didn’t you want her to be pregnant?”

The look of salvation dissipates from his face as soon as he catches sight of his reaction, while you, who glanced up to Naoya by inertia after hearing the doctor's scoff, clench your jaw as a response to his idiotic reaction—all of this, all of these ridiculous procedures were because of him and his family. And he still dared behave this way? As if it wasn't his own father who sentenced you to death, which he didn't even attempt to debunk?

The point that was brewing in your mind just a few minutes ago becomes clear: just like his relatives, he was morbidly waiting to see if your "acts" with Naoaki had resulted in something bigger, and what better way to do so than bringing you here?

Which of course were nothing but rumors, because when did they expect that to happen, when all you could do is cower in fear?!

Regardless of that, Naoya should at least have the decency to keep quiet, or disappear from your life, if he's so desperate to do something.

"Now let's check inside" the doctor sighs as he reaches over for a napkin and roughly cleans the gel off your stomach before putting away all of his tools "your legs on the side, please" he instructs, setting everything up for the next procedure.

You do so as requested, gently sliding yourself up so you could comfortably lift your legs onto the holders, accommodating into a better position before looking up to him and silently signaling your preparation.

This is, and would probably continue to be, the most vulnerable and exposed you've ever felt in your life when it comes to your health—and it’s not the act that scares you, you’ve never been one to shy away from things that needed to be done… but it’s the general context behind it that discourages you.

Yet, you know it’s the only way to know the status of the (one of many) horrendous wounds Naoya’s carelessness inflicted on you and see if you've healed.

Once the man double checks everything is set, he briefly informs you of his coming intrusion when you feel something cool and thin prodding at your entrance, breath hitching when the sensation pushes deeper inside you, gently scrubbing your walls; the beginning of the second stage.

The discomfort of this position and act, as well as the unwanted companionship of the man you hated the most in the world made you unwittingly tighten your grasp on the arm rest, as well as your lower areas, which the doctor was unable to ignore and subsequently, call out, for it was starting to hinder his process.

“You need to relax, or I won’t be able to work” he warns and you, wanting nothing more than to get this over with as soon as possible, proceed to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds before exhaling, exerting your best to do what he requested.

Once you feel him move again, you glance over to the screen in efforts to further lull your tension, distracting yourself with nothing more than the pinkish color of your insides apparent on the monitor.

You don't know if seeing this shade was a good sign, but the lack of pain compared to the last time manages to convince you to the point of releasing another sigh. Your mind is relieved of a shackle when it comes to the damage of your body and the benefits of your sacrifice begin to show.

And not only that: it also served as a testament that you truly haven't done anything to those that doubted you, such as your radical husband and his treacherous family—something Naoya was starting to see as well, which filled him with hope.

The doctor continues to prod you for a few seconds more, as if trying to get his "gotcha moment" only to realize there was nothing to reveal.

With this, the man finally arrives at the conclusion that indeed, there was nothing out of place, and in that note he begins to retract his tools from your body, setting them aside for sterilization, and turns the equipment off.

"She healed quite nicely" he declares rather… oddly, as if he were surprised. Was he doubting his prescription? No, that wasn’t the case, evident by his following words "I guess the two of you have been saying the truth"

To avoid verbally expressing your disappointment at his unwanted commentary, you cast your mind into fixing yourself, getting down the chair, and begin to count to ten. You certainly didn't expect any less from him after constantly instigating you and your husband—but just… why? Why had he decided to be particularly irksome this day?

Your husband, on the other hand, couldn't feel anything but relieved to know that his worries, all of them were for naught, since it was now proven that Ranta's belief of a friendship between the two was a fact.

Nothing had occurred between you and his brother, and now that he was sure, he couldn't help but reflect on how silly he was for even considering such a thing.

Ranta was right. He’s always right, Naoya insincerely presumes. His best friend ultimately had only the best intentions for him, no reason to lie or concoct a plan that would blunder him in the long run.

Everything would proceed in an orderly fashion, it was only a matter of time and patience for when it finally did. And if this advancement didn’t signify that, then he doesn’t know what did!

"Well, at least from what I saw everything seemed to be fine" the doctor concludes, circling back to the sole topic you were interested in as he wandered off back to his desk, with you and Naoya just right behind after you were done adjusting yourself in a more presentable image—of course, you didn’t stop nor wait for Naoya under any circumstance, you simply went ahead and took your designated seat.

The man retakes the folder containing your exams and decides to belatedly look over them, now through a different perspective thanks to his own findings.

"And the studies you brought seem to back it up as well" he analyzes, and your husband, at the prospect of a positive outcome, eagerly inquires.

"Would you say that she’s—she's healthy?" It's a question that might implicate some concern for you, but after observing the subtle signals of his reaction when Naoaki was obliquely brought into the conversation, as well as your cohesion, you come to the conclusion that all of this had been to save his skin with his father —and nothing more— just so come back home and tell him there was still something good to be salvaged from sham of a marriage you've been stuck in, and maybe patch your seeming insolence as well.

To think you believed he wanted to be with you…

"All things accounted for, I guess you could say she's healthy." the doctor concurs and Naoya sighs, everything going as planned… "But I wouldn't rush to inform your father about it"

Your ears and Naoya's perk, shoulders tensing and blood freezing at the sudden mention of Naobito. "There’s still things that we have to account for regarding her infertility, and sadly that’s something that a few tests won’t be able to predict outside her FSH levels or her actually getting pregnant, of course." The man sets your documents back into the folder and sets them to the side "She kind of reminds me of your mother, actually. Such a sensitive case… I can’t blame Naobito for trying to make sure his son doesn’t make the same mistake as him, filling the family with disappointments—no offense, of course, to you or your brothers, I’m just repeating his words'' The man shrugs, no remorse in his face after releasing highly insulting words towards you, your husband, and his close relatives.

It's here that something inside Naoya's and your mind clicks. The reason why the doctor had been so crude with the two, meticulous about his work.

Because Naobito thought it necessary to step in their marriage once again, telling the doctor the murkiness of the relationship (although to what extent has yet to be determined) as to remind them that whatever game they were playing, it was all happening under his turf.

It seems that not even outside the estate, would you or Naoya escape his grasp.

"And… my nausea?" Desperately wanting to avoid the remembrance of Naobito, if just for a moment, your mouth blurts out this question, which coincidentally, was of high importance to you. "Is there something more… effective against it, besides tea?"

"I'm afraid not" he responds without giving your question a second thought, discarding your importance just as he’d consistently done throughout the entirety of the consultation. "Is too much of a risk to play in the hormonal field right now, besides, cramps and nausea are a natural occurrence for periods, so why go against nature?"

You hum, and then look to the ground, defeated. It’s not what your previous doctor told you, but what could you do about that?

…So much for obtaining a cure, but now you could at least say to your ladies and Naoaki that you tried once you returned to the estate, whom you know would inevitably tackle you with their concern as soon as you set foot into the grounds.

Their memory is one that manages to soothe, if just a tiny, miniscule fraction of your pain and fear, embracing you with the sensation of being wanted— cared for—which never came from your husband, not even now.

“So what— is there something good that I can… relay to my father?” Naoya asks, digging and searching through whatever it was that he could find to complete the first part of Ranta’s plan, even with his father unforeseen intervention—get a professional opinion to back up his pursuits when going back to the elders, whom he knew would be awaiting for him when he returned to the estate.

Ironic, in a way. Just how similar the two of you were. In your same fashion, Naoya also had people waiting for his return; however, only one group genuinely cared for him.

“She’s healthy” The man reiterates “Even if she’s far from where we want her to be, at least she’s no longer at the starting point—doesn’t mean I'd lower my guard, Zen’in-san. Some might think of this as an opportunity to… you know, test her condition”

You grit your teeth. Naoya swallows. But both wonder just how far the voices of his relatives had spread.

Yet, before either is able to wonder the depths of their interference, the doctor's chuckle interrupts them yet again.

“Or she might, who knows?” He jests, and after he deemed relayed all the information he believed to be relevant, the man beckons them through the door and onto the reception, requesting the employee to bill their payment according to the procedures completed, as well as opening a date for them for the following check up if so desired. Which the man had eerily presumed to be soon.

He doesn't say much after that, less when he catches sight of a prim, but slightly pale and undeniably nervous woman sitting by the waiting area, accompanied by a man on her left side who appeared to be miserable just by being there, which quickly reminded of another consultation to complete.

Once bidding his farewells to your husband, he asks them to follow him, and you and your husband are left alone with the receptionist, an unpaid bill, and your thoughts, which didn’t leave the couple due to an uncanny sensation of familiarity.

While Naoya prepared his payment, you decided to dig a little deeper behind these feelings, wasting no more than a few seconds to find the reason as to why you couldn’t stop thinking of them: because they reminded you of your marriage. It's almost as if your soul had left your body and we're now seeing your predicament to an outsider's eyes; a vision of how you believed to be perceived by others when they glanced at you.

A woman, terrified of her companion whilst she carried a symptom that obviously brought her here, while the other couldn’t care less as to why he was there, just seeking an answer, offering no support.

Looks like people with the same putrid morals stick to one another as in a pack, and his office was to serve as some kind of refuge to them.

The thought is enough to sicken you, however, it quickly escapes your attention upon hearing the receptionist offering your husband farewells, and with it, signifying the end of this long-enough day.

Here you realize that even with all your obstacles, your visit wasn't as fruitless as you started to believe just a few seconds ago.

You at least managed to find out that in the bigger picture, you were healthy. Everything seemed to be in order, on the right path, even if its destination was not one that you wanted.

But just because you were on its road didn’t mean you’d end up there. You’d take what you need, such as these declarations, relay them to those that are close and trustworthy to you, and do what you intended.

Whatever it was that Naoya planned to do with this outing, it escaped your interest. Although you could admit that you were upset by it.

Did he think that by his feigned interest, his words of attention sprinkled here and there, and how he attempted to care for you would be a step closer to getting to talk to him? Or worse, that you'd help him achieve a noble standing with his family?

Maybe there was some possibility with the last, but with the other, he was being nothing more than a fool, and you couldn’t be any happier that you were going back to the estate, to be away from him.

It was unusual, really. That you’d ever find comfort in going back to the wretched house that has done nothing but harbor your misery. But at this moment there’s nothing more than you’d wish for.

In fact, such was your eagerness to leave all of this behind, that you sprinted past the scorned man you called husband as soon as the door was unlocked and to the elevator, careless to see if he was following you, and fervently called the lift.

Such was your eagerness, your desperation, that your blood started to rush.

Your ears were ringing, your vision slightly blurry, as you continued onto your path of escape, your freedom, symbolically represented by the shiny, dark car.

But while this figure represented the door of your liberation, away from the presence that has been nothing but tormenting for you, the one behind you could not see the same safety you foresaw.

To him, it was the closing of an opportunity, one that was slipping through his fingers which he had to seize before it was too late.

He knew that if he didn’t take the chance, then it would be too late. You’d clench to your frigidity, and then, disappear. Dissipate into the confines of his home, into the grasp of your ladies, and naturally, the arms of his brother.

Naoya couldn’t let this finish, not this way, and certainly, not when he believed he still had much to fight for.

He had to act quick, he had to take drastic measures, and then, he did.

It was the one thing you wished to not hear during your outing, the one that silently horrified you, looming at the back of your mind throughout the day.

Such an harmless tactic, and yet, was tainted with nothing but pain and horror.

One that you thought to be saved from, away from reaching you, but would make a shocking return to the point of stopping you in your tracks, pulling the air out of your lungs as you hear him say:

"Want to get something to eat?"

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #series: first it hurts—

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