#you think THIRTY is the ceiling for marriage???????

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

wheneverrrrrr you see (mostly) mormons or pentecostal women talking about how they needed to get married young im sorry they sound ridiculous. and stupid sorry. everyone who talks about the virtues of getting married young sound so ridiculous. this is not cinderella this is real life

#whenever incels try to fearmonger to happy single women like #well when you’re 30 and alone you’ll see! #like bitch what? 30???? you think 30 is old???? #and they’ll be like 27 #grow up lol #you think THIRTY is the ceiling for marriage???????

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

#dion agriche #dion argece #Dion x reader #yandere dion agriche #deon argece #dion agriche smut #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #deon agrece x reader

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Cora's Collecting

A03

Summary:

When Regina Mills adopted her son, she decided to cut her mother off from her life. Cora’s collecting habit had spiralled so far out of control that she feared for her son’s health and safety. Today, Cora says she is ready to start cleaning out her mess and making space for her family and friends to come back into her life.

Notes:

My excuses are that I couldn’t sleep and had the clearest image of Cora being a hoarder that I could not shake until it was written. And, honestly, it was so much fun that I hope you laugh and enjoy it as much as sleep-deprived me enjoyed dreaming it up. This is meant to be lovingly mocking the television programme and the format they follow for all their one million episodes. This is not, at all, a jest at the expense of anyone who does suffer from compulsive hoarding. 

For over fifteen years, Cora Mills has been bringing things into her 145,000-square-foot residence nestled in the picturesque Misthaven woods. When she moved into the hunting lodge that she has used as a primary residence for over thirty-seven years, Cora was a newlywed and it was the ideal place for her to start her family. 

The gilded halls were with bright sunlight streaming in through windows with their heavy drapes tied back. The expensive fabrics of the drapes were perfectly coordinated with finely embroidered seats and the thick, soft rugs. Heavy wooden tables sat between the seats which lined the marble corridors. The lodge boasted over 180 large rooms, each decorated immaculately in individual styles which complimented one another. 

But, all that changed for her when her husband of over twenty years suddenly died in his sleep. Despite a lifelong battle with an unknown heart condition, his death changed everything for Cora. She had to fight to keep her home after her husband died and five years after his death, she and her teenage daughter, Regina, were finally given the deed to the home they’d lived in for her daughter’s entire life. 

“I don’t think my father and mother had a particularly happy marriage,” Regina recalls without emotion. “It was the house and the potential to lose the house that really seemed to shake her up. Yeah, I think that is when she really started to accumulate things.” 

Today, the once-pristine hunting lodge is filled with clutter. Every one of the over 180 rooms is so stuffed with furniture, clothing, children’s toys, and other items that Cora has resulted in sleeping in the stable on a haystack without heat. 

“I’ve been sleeping in the stables and washing in the watering trough for about three years now,” Cora admits to Dr Archie Hopper, a clinical psychologist who specialises in the treatment of individuals with obsessive-compulsive disorder and who struggle with compulsive hoarding. Archie has been brought in, along with professional organiser, Belle French, to help Cora clear out the clutter that has overtaken her life. 

“I want to see my grandson play in the halls where I raised my daughter,” Cora explains as she shows Archie through the cramped halls of her home. After climbing over too many items to identify single objects and shimming against walls they finally reach the suite of rooms that Cora once slept in. Here, the clothing and furniture are stacked around them in mountainous piles that reach the ceilings. The gold-plated ceiling seems to have dulled. Little light filters through the massive windows, which are almost completely blocked by Cora’s items. 

“We are now standing in your wing of the home and it is completely buried in items,” Archie says matter-of-factly. Cora nods in agreement with his statements but doesn’t say anything in response. “How does it make you feel, Cora? Looking at these items in the rooms where you once dressed for grand balls?” 

Cora looks around the space and takes in the piles around them, “It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how I let it get this far.” 

Archie grabs a nearby item, a landscape of the north woods of Arendelle in an elaborate dusty golden frame, and shows it to Cora. “How would you feel if I took this with me tonight?” 

“I wouldn’t like that,” Cora’s voice is sharp with a mixture of anxiety and unquestionable authority. 

“Cora, you called me here to help you get better.” 

“How does taking my things help me?” 

“You have to try to make room for your grandson to play. This is not a safe environment for him to be in,” Archie softly states to remind Cora of her goals in having him there today. 

“Fine.”

“So, I am going to take this with me.”

“Okay,” Cora says wearily. 

“How do you feel right now?” 

“Angry. Stressed.” 

“I want you to sit with that for a while. It is important for you to know this feeling will fade away and you are strong enough to endure the discomfort,” Archie explains gently. Cora looks away from where Archie stands with the painting, toward the other items surrounding them. The dust and clutter fill her with dread that chases out the discomfort she was feeling at the thought of the psychologist taking the painting of the white woods of the North Forest. 

Cora desperately wishes that the home could already be organised and returned to its former glory and is overwhelmed by the taste of bitter emotions - anger, shame, frustration, guilt, and hopelessness - thick on her tongue. She is ready to have her house back and her daughter back, but she cannot see a path forward out of the clutter she has built up around her. 

Dr Hopper has called Cora’s daughter, Regina, to see how the conditions of the home have deteriorated since she was last there, eight years ago. Regina stopped visiting her mother when she adopted her son, Henry, because she feared for his safety in her home. 

“When I was a child, the house was spotless. My mother had a host of people that helped keep everything in order. If she found a speck anywhere in the house, the maid responsible for that room was never seen again,” Regina tells Dr Hopper before he knocks on the door of the home. 

Cora opens the door and Regina walks into her childhood home once again. Cora and Archie stand at the threshold of the door and allow Regina to tour her once-spotless home alone. Regina is horrified by the clutter. “The mountains of junk have grown so much since the last time I was in there. I could never allow my son into that death trap.” 

She makes her way through another room, items crunching beneath her feet, and her anger flares again at the situation her mother has created. When the pile she was standing on gave out and sent her tumbling, Regina terminates the tour and returns to her mother and the psychologist waiting in the foyer.

“Mother, this is horrible. How do you live this way? It is disgusting.” Regina’s anger is rolling off her in waves, the hate and accusation in her glare all too familiar. 

“I know. I don’t know,” Cora answers but her words fall on deaf ears.

“Belle should be arriving, let’s make our way back outside,” Archie suggests.

Regina shakes her head, “I’m leaving, I have to get Henry from school,” and with that, she is gone as quickly as she came. 

After collecting herself, Cora nods to Archie. When they exit from the house, Regina has disappeared. The grand fountains flowing with clear water and bright green topiaries with not a branch out of place provide a sharp contrast from the dark and dusty house behind them. 

Cora draws in a deep breath of fresh air before turning to watch the young brunette woman in a flowing blue dress cutting through the courtyard, her thick hair billowing in waves behind her with every purposeful step. Cora felt an immediate dislike for the young lady storming her home. 

As if reading her mind, Archie lays a calming hand on Cora’s shoulder, “She’s here to help. You are still in control of this entire process.”

Scowling at the clammy hand on her shoulder, Cora mutters -  Supper with Regina and Henry. Supper with Regina and Henry. 

“Good morning, Belle!” Archie calls to the new arrival with a smile. They shake hands and exchange some pleasantries. 

Belle turns to face Cora with a bright smile. “You must be Cora?” Belle’s chipper voice grates at Cora’s already raw nerves. Her smile does not falter when Cora refuses to shake her proffered hand or acknowledge her ridiculous question in any way, “Let’s see what we’ve got, shall we?”

“No better time to start than the present,” Archie chirps as he pushes open the grand door, revealing the hoard behind to the organiser. To Cora’s disappointment and relief, Belle’s smile still doesn’t falter as she crosses the threshold and orients herself with the clutter inside. 

“Cora, you have some beautiful things here,” Belle says and Cora wonders if she misjudged the lady. “But, we have a lot of things to clear so that you can actually enjoy them.”

No, I was right.

“That is why I have called you, Ms. French,” Cora explains slowly, as if worried the organiser could not grasp their meaning.

“Absolutely,” Belle replied cheerily. The smile finally fades as she picks up two items at random and holds them up to Cora. “Cora, can you get rid of either of these two items?”

Cora studies the small broken round table. The green marble table top is a sad echo of the sprawling gardens visible through the open door, two of the three shiny cheery wood legs are still intact and end in a highly decorative curl, dust is so thick that the finer details of the carvings are lost. Her palms start sweating and her pulse thunders in her chest and head as she shifts her focus to the porcelain doll Belle holds. The black hair of the doll has become frizzy with age and poor storage, the fine fabric of her dress is creased and wrinkly, and the doll’s painted face has faded. 

“No,” Cora rasps out, her mouth and throat suddenly too dry. Cora knows that she has to get rid of her things, but the doll’s big brown eyes stare at her accusingly. Regina’s face, splotchy and red from crying, fills Cora’s mind. Her expression is equally as accusing as the doll’s; she blamed Cora for the accident that had taken Daniel’s life. Cora would never heal the wounds that formed when she survived the accident that Regina’s first love did not. 

“Cora, you have to give up so much more than one thing before your daughter and grandson can come over for a visit,” Belle admonishes gently.

Archie steps toward Cora, placing a hand on her arm, “You seemed to have gotten very stressed all of a sudden. What are you thinking about, right now?” 

“I am thinking that I cannot throw out the doll.”

“What happens if you throw out the doll?” Archie nudges. 

“I can never get my daughter back,” Cora grinds out. 

“Cora, we are cleaning up all of this to get her back,” Belle says simply. Both of their faces are sad and understanding in a way that snaps something in Cora. 

“Throw them both out,” Cora demands, a sense of pride soaring through her as Archie and Belle congratulate her on making a good decision. It is ridiculous that their praise should matter to her, but she relishes it all the same. 

They work through the day and night similarly - Belle and Archie holding up a few items and Cora deciding what to keep and what to remove; Cora continues to bask in the praise, encouraged to keep only priceless family heirlooms and the necessary furnishings. It is not until an owl flies in through the open doorway, making the three all squeal and swat at it to shoo it back out, that they haul the progress for the day. 

Cora sleeps in her halfway-cleared grand foyer that night. The comfort of the antique tufted sofa far exceeded the straw bed she slept in the night prior. 

When she wakes up, she is shocked that she does not mourn the loss of the things that were removed from her home. The realisation inspires her to go forward with the process when Belle and Archie arrive. 

After a successful first day, Archie and Belle have an idea to speed up the clean-up process to get Cora back in her home, ready to host her daughter and grandson.

“Cora, since your house is so large. We brought along a crew of over 120 people to help haul away all of your stuff. With your permission, we would like to have them take away anything that is damaged or of little value,” Archie says in a way that seems like a question and command all at once. 

“Okay,” Cora agrees, but she feels a sense of impending doom that throws her off as she picks up where they had left off sorting through the foyer last night. After an hour or so, the feeling becomes too much for her to continue to ignore and she stops working and runs out to the courtyard. Trucks as far as she can see are filled with items taken from her home. The workers are tossing her possessions in without care and she worries they have included relics of great import in those bags that she cannot see through. The fear grips her and she is rushing the trucks and yelling at the men toiling away before she is aware of her actions.

“Cora? Cora, what is wrong?” Belle asks, chasing after her from the front door. 

“They are just removing everything. Not everything in my home is trash! You promised they would only take away things that were damaged or trash! This is twenty trucks of things, there is no way that my house had twenty trucks of worthless trash in it,” Cora is yelling at the petit organiser. 

“Cora, I promise you that we did not throw away anything of value,” Belle says in her most soothing tone. 

LIAR!  Cora wants to scream it in her face but knows there is no point. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she admits to the organiser. 

“It is hard, what you are doing is very hard. But, if you keep going, you can have your daughter back in your life. Isn’t that more important to you?” 

“Of course, it is,” Cora snaps. The last day and a half have been extremely difficult and she feels more alone than she ever has before. Cora is exhausted and does not want to fight anymore. 

Belle pauses the cleaning crew and Cora talks with Archie. Three hours later, Cora agrees to continue with the clean-up. She returns to the task with a new determination and allows the Merry Men to continue their removal work without interruption. That night, she falls asleep in her bed for the first time in over a decade. 

After ten months of work with professional organiser, Belle French, and numerous haul-away days with the Merry Men, Cora’s home has been returned to its former glory. Her daughter is returning to see how her mother is progressing.

Cora waits for her daughter to arrive filled with nervous energy. The home is immaculate once more, the halls almost as bright as they were when Regina’s laughter filled them, but she worries that Regina will not see the progress that she has made.  It won’t be enough to have your daughter and grandson in your life.

When the knock sounds, a newly hired butler rushes to open the door. The butler shows Regina around the house, as directed. Regina takes in the beautifully polished furniture, the rich fabrics, the smudge-free windows and mirrors, the tastefully decorated rooms, the maids and servers darting between the rooms, and she is transported to a time when their home was the centre of the kingdom.

Cora is settled in a formal sitting room, anxiously waiting to receive her daughter. A maid appears with tea and biscuits before disappearing again. 

Regina arrives with a broad smile on her face, “You did it, Mother.”

Cora’s heart leaps at her daughter’s approval. Her daughter looks at her with love and admiration that hasn’t been there for as long as Cora can remember. Cora is filled with cautious hope for their relationship. 

“I cannot believe it. You did it. It looks incredible!” Regina pulled her into a tight hug and Cora feels tears prickling in her eyes.

“Does that mean you will bring Henry for dinner and for holidays?” Cora asks tentatively.

“Yes. Oh, you’re going to love him. He is perfect; so smart and so funny,” Regina gushes, settling to sit with her mother on her couch for the first time in years. Cora gestures toward the tea, listening and laughing and enjoying her daughter’s company. The future looks bright for them for the first time in many more years. 

#OUAT AU fanfic #Hoarding: Buried Alive x OUAT crossover #Cora Mills #Regina Mills #Henry Mills #Archie Hopper #Belle French #a product of too many hoarding episodes #a dash of too little sleep #I like blacked out and wrote this

[alj4890]

Just a Dream

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart Drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a kiss in the aftermath of a fight.

A/N Takes place a few years down the road for the two 😂 Honestly I couldn't think of a good enough fight for any of my pairs (I started a few but I ended up cringing so hard over them that they were immediately deleted), but this idea came about and I couldn't think of a smoother man than Tobias to deal with the situation 🤣

Rating PG for some language

@jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @trappedinfanfiction @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2

Masterlist

A little after four in the morning...

Chris gasped as her eyes flew open. Tears slipped down the sides of her face as she stared up at the ceiling fan. Her heart felt like it was breaking in two. Her stomach roiled with the images still fresh in her mind causing her to dash to the bathroom.

After a brief episode knelt in front of the toilet that ended with her swearing to never eat tacos again, she brushed her teeth and then crawled back into bed with more tears than before.

How could he say that to me?!

She turned her head to the side, eyes narrowing upon her husband softly snoring.

"Tobias?" She nudged him.

He grumbled something and rolled onto his stomach.

"Oh!" She sat up, grabbed his shoulder, and violently shook him.

"WAKE UP!" She yelled at him.

Tobias scrambled to his knees in a tangle of blankets.

"What's wrong?"

He flipped on the bedside lamp, blinking against the brightness as he focused on his wife. Tears were falling unheeded down her cheeks, alarming him more so than the way she woke him up.

"Chris?" He reached for her. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"No." She sniffed, beginning to cry harder.

"Did you throw up again?" He gently rubbed her back.

"No. I mean, yes. But that's not why I'm upset!"

"What's wrong?" He placed his hand on her very slight baby bump. "Is it the baby?"

"No. All's fine in there." She reached for some tissues.

"Babe." He rubbed a hand down his face. "You need to just tell me instead of making me guess at," he checked the time and groaned, "four in the morning."

She glared at him.

Tobias looked around himself. He wondered what had set her off in the middle of the night this time.

"It's you." She hissed. "How could you?!"

"How could I what?"

"How could you say that to me?!" Chris screeched.

"What?" He stressed. "What did I say? That I'm too sleepy to guess what's wrong?"

"No! You told me to take our marriage license and shove it up my arse!"

"I did what?" He blinked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"You said you didn't want me or this baby anymore!" She continued, blowing her nose. "You wanted your precious freedom and that I could go straight to hell for all you cared."

His brow was furrowed in thought before it hit him what happened.

"You were dreaming."

"That was no bloody dream!" She shouted. "That was a straight out nightmare."

Her face crumbled with more tears. A sob caught at the back of her throat.

"How could you do that to me?"

Tobias knew in that hormone infused mind of hers that any chance of reasoning with her would be met with more headaches than it was worth. He was beginning to notice a trend with her pregnancy. Anytime Chris ate spicy foods, some weird nightmare that seemed deep seeded in legitimate fears would come to life in her dreams.

He wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her stiff form as best as he could. Dropping a kiss to the top of her red head, he sighed.

There was only one thing he could do if he hoped to ever get a chance to sleep again.

"I'm an asshole."

Chris shook her head. "No, you're not."

"I am if I said something like that in your dreams." He brushed her hair out of her face.

He hated to see her cry. A part of him wished the old, pre-pregnant Chris was still here so she could laugh and playfully threaten him over his dream self remarks. The other part of him was touched she would be this hurt with him leaving her, even in a dream.

"You know," Tobias murmured kissing her forehead, "I would have to be a completely different, probably taken over by aliens, person to ever even have a thought of saying something like that to you, right?"

"Right." She blew her nose again.

"I don't want my freedom. If I really did, would I have married you?"

"No."

"And I sure as hell wouldn't have tried to knock you up so fast, would I?"

A tearful giggle slipped out over his choice of words.

"I mean, you might have." She teased. "I've never seen you turn down an offer to sleep with me."

He smiled when she wrapped her arms around him.

"See?" He prodded squeezing her close. "You're the only one I want."

"I know." She sighed against him.

Chris leaned back to look up at him.

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"Think you can rest now?" He asked.

"I think so."

He turned the lamp off and cuddled her close once more. He silently said a prayer of thankfulness that this episode had ended quicker than previous ones. He also swore to deny her spicy foods at night.

"Tobias?" She whispered.

Oh god.

He braced himself.

"Yeah?"

"We kinda had a fight, didn't we?"

"In your dream, we did."

"And we basically made up, right?"

He softly cursed to himself. Where was she going with these questions?

"Yes."

She turned in his arms to face him.

"And what do we do after we fight?"

He studied her face, hoping to see the answer somewhere on it.

"We usually kiss and makeup." He mumbled.

Please let that be right, he silently pleaded, so I can go back to sleep.

"And?" Chris prodded.

He wanted to throw his hands up in surrender. Tobias closed his eyes and tried to remember the last real fight they'd had. There hadn't been too many over the years, but when they did argue they usually...

His eyes popped open as a slow smile formed.

Chris's cheeky grin responded to him finally catching on.

"Far be it from me not to make up for my nightmare version." He muttered against her lips.

His hands slipped under her nightgown and began to caress her body.

Chris moaned from the heat of his touch.

"I love you." She gasped, her back already arching from just the feel of his skin against hers.

"I love you too, Chris." He winked at her. "Now let me show you just how much."

#thirty kisses in thirty days #tobias carrick x mc #dr. tobias carrick #tobias x chris #choices open heart #choices fic writers creations #open heart fanfic

[rcsplendent]

☼☾ ( aaron taylor johnson , 30 , he/him , cis man , duke of florence ) - have you seen ROMEO PAZZI?  we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re PRAGMATIC but also MANIPULATIVE. when you think of them , you think of A WISP OF TOBACCO SMOKE RISING TO THE CEILING, PIANO HANDS GILDED WITH RINGS, & A SUAVE, CONNIVING SMILE.

parallels  :  tangerine  (  bullet train  )  ;  tony stark  (  the marvel cinematic universe  )  ;  lloyd hansen  (  the  gray man  ) ; max wolfe  (  gossip girl  )  

BASIC  INFO

FULL  NAME:  romeo  giancarlo  pazzi

AGE:  thirty

GENDER:  cis man

PRONOUNS:  he/him

ORIENTATION:  bisexual, uninterested in romance ( for now )

LANGUAGE(S)  SPOKEN:  primary  —  italian,  conversational  —  english,  french

ACCENT:  italian

LABEL:  the lothario or the pretty boy; a man who is very handsome and uses it to his own benefit.

APPEARANCE  &  PERSONALITY

FACE  CLAIM:  aaron taylor johnson

HEIGHT:  six feet, three inches

HAIR  COLOUR:   brown

EYE  COLOUR:  light  blue

USUAL  EXPRESSION:  smug, or mildly bored

POSITIVE  TRAITS:  pragmatic, intelligent, witty, protective, charming, humorous, eloquent, charismatic

NEGATIVE  TRAITS:  hedonistic, stubborn, lazy, unyielding, desperate, greedy, crude, manipulative, conniving

FAMILY

FATHER:  unnamed,  deceased

MOTHER:  unnamed,  deceased

SIBLINGS:  unnamed sibling, valentina pazzi

THINGS  TO  KNOW

romeo was raised in a world of unspeakable wealth. he never wanted for anything, never needed anything that he couldn't have — he had servants at his beck and call from the moment he was born, and he always took advantage of it.

when he was a teenager, the king of the netherlands approached his father, the duke of florence at the time, and proposed a deal. the king needed money, and in exchange, he would offer one of his daughters to marry. the duke was more than happy to oblige, and romeo, being the eldest and therefore the heir, was arranged to marry the princess.

however, after the deal was made, the betrothal was ... mostly forgotten about. romeo spent much of his teenage years and young adulthood under the assumption he'd be married off at any moment, so he spent almost all of his time partying, sleeping around, and getting blackout drunk as if it was his last chance to do it. months passed, and then years passed, and still no marriage came; romeo figured the betrothal was a thing of the past.

when he was twenty, he left italy for six years to study at various universities around the world, including oxford, the university of salamanca in spain, the university of aberdeen in scotland, the imperial moscow university in russia, and sorbonne university in france. he mostly studied philosophy and politics, with the hopes that it would help him when he eventually took on the role of the duchy.

he returned home briefly when his mother passed away of a lingering illness about five years ago, but departed again to continue his studies; then, when his father suddenly passed just one year later, he had to return home to accept his new role as the duke.

unprepared and hateful of his responsibilities, romeo continued his lotharian lifestyle, and with new access to his family's horde of funds, he made a litany of poor financial decisions, from throwing party after extravagant party to simply purchasing ungodly expensive things he didn't actually need. the pazzi estate had never looked so ornate and beautiful, and once again romeo never wanted for anything, but at the same time, the pazzi's wealth was diminishing rapidly as a result.

now, romeo is ... well, for lack of a better word, broke. he realized his mistake far too late and is now indebted to too many people to count. when he received the invitation to france, he may even been the first person to accept, not because he was excited to go, but because he needs to make connections who can provide financial help, and FAST.

and, of course, there's that betrothal that never actually happened, but also never really fell through ... technically, he's been engaged for a decade. he only met her once, but he knows she'll be here in france. he's not exactly eager to get married, but ... it surely would solve those debts, wouldn't it ?

HEADCANONS

romeo is betrothed to luciana holland, the princess of the netherlands ! it's actually kind of up in the air if they'll actually get married, since the original arrangement is over a decade old at this point, and made by his father who's passed ... romeo didn't want to get married, but now that he's in his little financial pickle, he's reconsidering, as it would very quickly solve all of the debts he owes.

romeo is an ASS. at least, that's what he is deep down. on the surface, he's very charming, likeable, and just the right balance of confident and humble. but he starting to take after his backstabbing ancestors; he's the kind of person to make friends if he sees some kind of perceived benefit on his end.

despite that, it's not that he's mean or antisocial, necessarily — considering how many parties he's thrown back in italy, it's obvious that enjoys people's company and socializing. it's just that, at this very moment, he's incredibly desperate to make the right connections to secure some kind of financial stability quickly, so he's not afraid to rub shoulders with people just to get them to like him enough to provide him with a "gift" or two.

he is quite protective over his siblings ; the biggest reason why he's trying to recover his lost funds is so that they don't have to suffer the consequences.  

because he spent so much time at university, he is, unfortunately, quite smart. if he were in a modern au he would definitely be a philosophy bro.

the fact that he's spent almost all of his family's wealth is a secret he keeps VERY close to his chest. he finds it humiliating, and almost overcompensates by flaunting his material wealth. especially because of the pazzi's history, he would rather literally disappear forever than have people find out what he's done and ruin the family name for a second time.

WANTED  CONNECTIONS

associates:  people he's essentially trying to make friends with, but in the end, it's for monetary gain - he's trying to get them to help him in some way, but he's not quite sure how yet.

creditors:  people he owes money to ! he's definitely taken out quite a few "personal loans" from people that his parents had been close with, and he definitely has NOT paid them back yet ... and they're all here in france. what a nightmare !

paramours:  he's betrothed, sure, but he's not MARRIED yet ... at least, that's what he'd say. plus, he's on the fence if he even wants to go through with the betrothal, so he's definitely going to sleep around in the meantime.

#francehq.intro #romeo pazzi — intro. #romeo pazzi — interactions. #romeo pazzi — face. #romeo pazzi — musings.

[pjstafford]

Passing The Torch: X Files

(Imagining the Reboot)

Scene one cold open

Timeline tag 10/13/2024.

Wide shot of a farm house and a barn which have seen better days. As we close in onto the barn and into the interior, the barn begins to shake as if in an earthquake. The camera pans across the stalls which are empty, we think, until we hear a cat's meow and see a cat exit the shadows into the light of a hole in the barn's roof. We follow the cat as it runs out of the barn and into the space between the barn and the house. Outside there is no shaking. We follow the cat to the house. It seems to know it's way. The cat makes its way to a tree and then through a broken window. We are inside a kitchen. There are dishes in the sink and faded kitchen towels on the counter. It is as if the people who lived here left suddenly but a long time ago. The cat jumps onto the refrigerator. We see the kitchen begins to shake. The cat meows again and jumps to a shaking counter where we see a mason jar filled with peaches tip on its side. Off the cat we see sticky juice ooze through shattered glass onto the floor. The cat doesn't bother to investigate but rushes into the living room. The shaking intensifies. The cat walks into the middle of the room, stops and looks up. We follow to see where he is looking. It is a hole in ceiling similar to the one in the barn. Suddenly we see a bright light shine in. The shot widens to show the living room with a bright beam shining into the center of the room and the cat elevating into the air in the middle of the beam. As the cat gets to the hole in the ceiling, we hear a final yelp from the cat before the light and the cat disappears and the shaking suddenly stops. Fade into black.

Scene two:

Close up of a man's hands holding and flipping through pictures. One of the hands teaches for a magnifying glass and holds it over the top picture. We see a picture of the farmhouse from before but from a far distance away with a sort of odd light shining through all the windows. The shot widens. We see the hands belong to a tall, slender, lanky man. He his handsome, darker skin, possibly Hispanic and wearing casual clothing. Possibly in his thirties. He speaks, still looking at pictures.

" Rob was at a renovated farm house AirBNB with Laura on their honeymoon. If it was an earthquake, it was very localized as he felt only a slight tremor. But he noticed the odd light, grabbed his camera and his gear and headed to this farm house as quickly as he could. While he was taking these pictures the lights disappear and the shaking stopped simultaneously. When he walked inside he smelled this horrible putrid sweet smell and the slime was all over the place."

We hear a woman's voice. " And he just happened to have a specimen jar to collect some of it ".

The shot widens. We are in a laboratory setting. A sign on the wall indicates it's an University laboratory. The woman is a very attractive, short of statue young woman.. wearing a lab coat and latex gloves and seemingly running some type of experiment. We see a goopy slime in a petri dish and her adding some chemical with a dropper onto the dish.

"Of course, he had a specimen jar. You never know when you are going to run into a spectral anomaly and a slimy goo has been identified in numerous sightings."

The woman interrupts " He was on his honeymoon.". She turns to look to look at the man. "Desi," she says sternly. " on our honeymoon you are leaving all that ghostbusting crap at home or it is going to be the shortest marriage in history.".

Desi nods. " If you say so, Lucy.". He says the name in a Ricky Ricardo accent.

Off of a close up of the woman's name tag that says Loukya we hear her say, " You know I hate that nickname." Although from the tone and smile she does not seem to mind it.

"From the moment my parents named me Desi I was destined to fall in love with a Lucy."

"You are obsessed with all things twentieth century".

" I was born I the twentieth century."

"Barely," Loukya said " Imagine me calling my parents in India and explaining that not only was I in love with a Cuban American but that his hobbies were investigating paranormal phenomena and repairing electronic antiques likes early computers, Cassette and eight track machines and VHS players."

"Did you mention that I'm the youngest full professor at this University on my way to full tenure."

"Yes and then I had to confess that we met when I was a student in your psychology 101 class.".

Desi made a face. "They hate me already, don't they?".

Lucy doesn't answer. She is looking at the Petrie dish under a microscope. Desi starts to look at the pictures again with the magnifying glass. "so your slime looks like some type of fruit mixture, maybe some peach syrup, and this is odd...It's cat hair."

At that moment Desi holds the magnifying glass over the picture to reveal the mason jar broken on the counter.

He shrugs sheepishly. "Can you not tease me about this because it is my birthday."

Loukya nods, smiling and begins to clean up and remove her lab coat. We hear a beep, like a phone notification, and Desi pulls a phone from his pants and checks it. "I just got a package delivery from a Doctor Dana Scully.".

Loukya claps excitedly. "that's from me. It's your birthday present.".

Desi smiled "Let's skip dinner and go to my place instead". He raised his eyebrows up and down.

"No," Louka said quickly. "You should open it alone.". She blushes.

"Well now you have to tell me what it is.".

Louka shyly "I saw an ad that this doctor had convinced her husband to get rid of his porn collection. ".

Desi smiled quizzically.

"VHS porn tapes."

Desi laughs "Old School.'.

Loukya says " I want you to know that after we are married you can keep your combination 90s style entertainment man cave and para investigation office. I don't want to change you.".

Desi smiled, serious now, "You have already changed me so much for the better.".

Fade out.

Scene three:

Desi at his home. His keys out. He lefts up a package. Close up on address. Dr Dana Scully PO Box address

He carries the box inside. His house is decorated in an eclectic minimalist style. He opens the door to what appears to be a converted garage. The garage includes a futon, entertainment equipment including the VHS player, cassette, eight track, in the corner is a desk with a nineties style computer desktop,a state of the art modern lap top, a fax machine and a land line rotary phone. He cuts open the box, lifts up the first VHS and without looking to closely puts it into the machine and turns on the TV. He sits down contentedly. Close up a look of disgust on his face. Camera moving to the television it's a tape fans of the original XFiles will recognize. An alien autopsy in a train car. He stops the tape. He grabs a cassette and places it in the machine. He hears a voice " My God, Scully, he is frozen to death. ". He searches through the box and opens an envelope. As he reads it it is a Fox Mulder voice over

Desi

I apologize if you were expecting something else. When Scully was addressing the box, I decided to send you some things you might appreciate more. I have been closely following your career as a paranormal investigator. I am an admirer. You are asking the right questions and you have the right determination. Years ago Scully and I were partners investigating the paranormal for the FBI. Don't give up your search. The truth is out there. Scully and I will send you other packages from time to time. If you ever need help fax an X to the number at the bottom. Your fiancee is a scientist? Don't get too frustrated if she is skeptical. Her science will keep you honest. This is my eZy of passing the baton, my life's work to a new generation. Will be in touch soon.'".

dedi puts down the letter. He thinks for a moment. Pulls out some files. Finds a poster. Unrolls it. I want to believe.

Fade out.

#xfiles

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

The One Where Jensen Ackles Confirmed Cockles in 2016(????) No. Seriously. For real.

this is a DOOZY. strap in folks.

DISCLAIMER: this is chock full of rps. if you are against cockles/jenmish in any way, this post is not for you. however, if you’re like me, ummmmm...

alright. so. we are REALLY in it now, cockles truthers. and make no mistake, i DO NOT want to undersell the significance of what we have found on this glorious day in 2021.

BUT HEY! DISCLAIMER FIRST, THOUGH IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING! do not EVER bring this to jensen and misha’s attention. do not comment disrespectful things on social media. when cons/panels start again, don’t ask them questions about it. ever!!! that’s super weird, for one thing, and for two, they won’t give you the answer you want anyway! so, yeah. just be decent, y’all. let’s continue. 

so my dear mutual @green-blue-heller made this post today and i promptly lost my mind. in it, they link this video:

as far as i can tell, it’s from VegasCon 2016 but was only unprivated on january 24, 2020(dean winchester’s birthday??? wow ok) for some reason, and we have overlooked it until now. to whoever it was that posted it, THANK you for my reason for being and this delayed gratification five years later. anyway, let’s get into it.

right off the bat, those expressions in the thumbnail kind of tell you all you need to know about what we’re venturing into. i have to thank BOTH jensen AND j*red for being ridiculously transparent. i mean...j*red purposefully avoiding eye contact with jensen and looking at the ceiling with his eyebrows raised sky high? jensen hiding his face in his hands, smiling and blushing like a fool, the misha face™ & grin???

so let’s break down what happens with timestamps and everything.

so! i looked up what the question was, i scoured through the entire Vegas Con video, and here it is:

‘My question is for Jensen and Jared. You guys are both happily married, and I noticed that many people had a hard time explaining how they know their significant other is the one. The one they want to spend the rest of their life with, the one that they want to be with, and so, I wanted to ask you guys, how did you know that your current- who you’re with now(audience laughter cuts the rest of the question off and it’s unintelligible)’ ….i’m solidly guessing that the end of that question boils down to ‘was the one’. (....i...uhhhh....have some thoughts on how this question affected jensen, and i will be going into them later.)

Jared: *laughs* Jared, Jensen. When did you first meet your future ex-wives?

*both of them laugh*

Jared: I’m just kidding-I get what you’re trying to say and thank you, um...I, uh, I guess my current wife, uh-

*both laugh again*

Jensen: (sarcastically) Let’s start with her.

Jared: (repeats) Let’s start with her. I, uh, I...you said something kinda, uh, amazing in your question, which is that a lot of people have a tough time or a difficult time explaining to their significant others or to themselves what it is. And I guess I feel that I have no way to possibly explain it to myself or to her... I remember that I had been in a relationship and that I was single and I was like ‘I am not interested in getting in a relationship’ and then she and I went on a date and I was like, ‘I can’t go anywhere else. I’m not interested.’ So, that was kinda what, um, what started it for me *clears throat loudly* Uh. Yeah, I just feel like (searching for words) she makes me a better person-there are a lot of people that make you a better person, and so that’s not enough, I don’t think-or maybe it is, who knows-um...I don’t know, I can’t really...if I could explain, I’d be a poet.

here’s where things start to get interesting. before jared says ‘If I could explain, I’d be a poet,’ Jensen’s face looks like this:

stoic, thoughtful, composed. and then AFTER jared says that his face makes THIS little journey:

go watch it for yourself. this man is ridiculous. in terms of body language? he gazes up and AWAY from jared. it is a private thought, he is not sharing in jared’s joke with him, if at all. it is his own personal musings that make his face LIGHT up like that. this fool looks lovestruck!!! this fool is lovestruck!!!

now, i think it goes without saying, but there is an obvious cockles reason that springs to mind for this reaction. (hint: misha is a poet. that’s it, that’s the reason.) i don’t think jared intentionally said this with misha in mind, but jensen’s thoughts IMMEDIATELY went there. whether or not this is because he was already planning on answering and hinting at his relationship with misha before jared says this, which i think he was-you can certainly see the wheels turning in jensen’s head before this moment-his brain involuntarily makes the connection and it shows in his glowing smile. after that remark...jensen’s gone. he’s whipped. and he HAS to say something about it. 

continuing from where we left off:

Jared: ...and I would love to be a poet. (thought it would be fun to mention that at this point Jensen catches what his face did and immediately looks over to Jared and WIPES the expression of his face...but it’s too late, because someone recorded it, i saw it, and now i’m writing about it five years later)

Jared: But uhh…

Jensen: (interrupting) Just tap me when you want me to take over. 

i think that jensen is simultaneously joking and is also more than ready to say what he’s been composing in his head diligently for the last thirty or so seconds. he has made up his mind, and is now ready to drop the bomb on us.

*audience laughs, Jared playfully swats at him*

Jared: Uh… *thinks in silence for a bit* It’s really difficult, it’s really difficult. She makes me feel safe, she makes me feel loved. Uh...when...I’m in a position where I don’t love myself, I know she loves me, you know, um...she’s just an awesome, awesome lady.

*audience claps*

alright! so in terms of my OWN analysis for what’s happened up until this point, the conclusion i have come to is that there was something in the question that was asked that sets jensen’s mind off about misha, and i think it was the ‘the one’ comment. if we’re putting our cockles goggles on, jensen doesn’t HAVE a ‘the one’. he resents thinking like that. i’m also very intuitive, and i get a sense that jensen is an honest person and can’t really tell a convincing lie. i mean...we all saw that horrible airbnb debacle, right? and his slip up when he accidentally confirms that misha woke up and said ‘i miss (maison)’[which how would you know that unless you were...nvm] and became a stammering mess and had to sit down and cover his face. and that misha is always the one to take the lead when it comes to denying clothes sharing, for instance. jensen has never ONCE attempted to explain that away, because i don’t think anyone would believe him, and i think he’s incapable of doing so because he’s not a dishonest person and can’t lie easily. i’m the same way, so to avoid telling a lie i always speak partial truths, and i’m 99% sure jensen is well versed in this talent as well. oh, also, just to really land my point....we all know how he feels about the finale because he can’t make himself speak well on it. he’ll gush about 15x18 and the PEOPLE BEHIND the finale, but he has not uttered one. positive. word. about the actual finale itself. i mean, we all know what he thinks about it. in his own way, he has made his rage glaringly obvious. and i think he’s doing that exact thing here, where he resents the implication that daneel is the only ‘one’ for him, because that’s simply not true, and he can’t and won’t lie about something like that. 

i watched it back again and wrote notes on jensen’s body language as he’s processing the question. here they are:

from 0:13 to 1:21, jensen: 

looks down - tenses face - searching eyes, lost in thought - jared’s comment brings him out of it but it takes a second - fidgets, adjusts clothes, looks at jared - bites the inside of his cheeks and moves tongue around his mouth(pacifying gesture) - eyes start wandering away from jared, looks down and tenses face, looks back at jared - then looks away, eyes and mind far from the panel and pondering the question itself - somewhat wistful expression, gears clearly turning in his head, lips pursed, stops reacting to what jared is saying, fingers start fidgeting, eyes have moved downward as he is lost in thought - something shifts in his brain, he looks to the ceiling, fidgets and adjusts his clothing, squints and seems to resolve an inner thought - slightly comes back down to earth with newfound resolution - and then jared’s ‘i would be a poet’ comment happens while he’s coming down from that

i mean, this obviously doesn’t necessarily mean anything huge(yet), all it shows is that this question took a lot of thinking for him. when you compare it to how jared kind of just dove in? 

anyway; so then jared’s done, he slaps jensen’s thigh to indicate it’s his turn, jensen makes THAT face you see in the thumbnail, jared’s eyebrows raise, jensen looks down and scratches his forehead, and then makes the statement of a lifetime. 

here’s the link for this next part

Jensen: Ummm..I kind of feel like there’s two types of people ..uh..in regards to marriage and the, the one. Uh, it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you. And, I kind of find myself in between both of those(...types of people). And uh, and so, it can be a scary endeavour, and it can, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, um, but I think it’s a, uh, it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey that, uh, if you’re willing to stick it out with one another, can be an amazing, beautiful thing and I’m glad that I picked the partner and the teammate that I have, so.

i’ll give you like a second to recuperate before we dig in. 

let’s start with both jared and jensen’s body language first, because it wasn’t even the words that clued me in, it was whatever the hell was going on with jared’s face. 

i really wish i could gif, but i can only attempt to convey the SPEED and VIGOUR with which jared snaps his head toward jensen. 

these pictures are objectively hilarious because you can see the entire mental journey that jared goes on. he was aloof and kind of relaxed because he was done, it’s jensen’s turn now, he’s surely not gonna out himself with this question right? and then jensen goes ahead and says ‘there are two-’ and jared instantly zones right into jensen with a look of horror on his face, that he tries to contain, but does so unsuccessfully. that is the face of a man who is internally freaking out, thought to himself ‘did he seriously just say...’ and is kind of staring at the culprit in shock and awe.

i know that’s what’s happening, because this is not the first time we’ve seen him react like this to something jensen has said. the classic head whip. a few examples, just off the top of my head:

1. ‘he has, hasn’t he?’ 

2. ‘he sounds like that in the morning’ ‘how do you know’ 

3. when he whips his head around when he notices jensen’s face(and instantly understands when he realizes it’s misha)

so yeah, i’m sure you get it by now. jared can’t really keep it off of his face. there’s no real analyzing to be done here...it’s just an obvious tell on his part. there’s no real reason for him to have reacted this way if jensen was saying something inconspicuous, is there? he would have continued to just kind of space out if jensen hadn’t just said something jarringly questionable. 

as for jensen’s body language, i can’t really tell where he’s looking from either angle of both videos i’ve seen. sometimes it seems like he’s looking straight at jared, and maybe nods at him once, but he could also(and is most likely) looking at the fan who asked the question. i don’t think there’s anything particularly telling about his body language because i think he rehearsed his answer in his head and also, he’s not shying away because he’s not lying about anything. like...everything he’s saying is true, so he’s not going to have any tells. and it’s the fact that he is TELLING THE TRUTH that is freaking jared out.

now for what he actually says. because oh my god. 

right off the bat, he says “i kind of feel like there’s two types of people..” and first off, what? what does that even mean? if you think of it in terms of ‘this is about daneel and only daneel’....isn’t this a realllyyyyy strange thing to start out with? objectively? the question that was asked to him was ‘how did you know they were the one?’ and he goes ‘actually there’s TWO types of people’ ...like, jensen never answers the question at hand. 

and then he goes “in regards to marriage and the one”. i hope i’m not the only one who noticed he said the words ‘the one’ in a resentful and kind of degrading tone? seriously, listen to it again. he seems like he’s almost mocking that sentiment. i swear i’m not making it up, it really sounds like that to me. 

and then he says “-it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you.” *NON TINHAT VERSION OF EVENTS* what he could mean, i guess, is he was both scared to be with daneel but also knew she was the one for him. which....ok. alright. *TINHAT BACK ON* first off, there’s absolutely no risk with daneel. that’s not a judgement, because i love her; it’s just true. she’s a pretty, talented, amazing woman and they are very much in love. i’m not sure what risks he’s taking there. next up: pretty strange wording then, don’t you think? idk, if it were you, and you wanted to get that point across, wouldn’t you use words like ‘she both scared me and i knew i wanted to be with her at the same time’ and NOT this convoluted mess of ‘there’s two types of people and they are both drastically different but also one and the same’? 

SECOND OF ALL, as many people have pointed out.....he never uses pronouns. this is strange. jared does. jared says gen’s name, even. and uses ‘she’ and ‘her’. jensen never once does that, he practically refuses to do so. and yes, i fully believe it is entirely intentional.

because if you look at this phrase from a cockles lens it makes more sense then if you do not. 

the one that jensen knows, unequivocally, with the utmost certainty, is the one for him, no doubts, no risks; is daneel. the one that he doesn’t know about, is scared of being with, but is willing to take that leap of faith anyway; is misha. and all of a sudden the puzzle pieces fall into place.

because he goes on to say “I kind of find myself in between both of those.” 

he doesn’t say ‘i find myself in between both of those...with her.’ nope. he’s just...in between. caught in the middle. of those two types of people. translation: of those two people. mish. dee. 

“And it can be a scary endeavour, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, but I think it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey...” 

every single one of those words can be applied to more than one person. think about it. bond(between three people). connection(between three people). friendship(between three people!!!). there’s no ‘partnership’ in here, which does only apply to two people. 

lastly, “i’m glad i picked the partner and the teammate that i have.”

ok, look. you can easily say that it’s just one person he’s talking about here! of course you can. but this is jensen ackles we’re talking about. jensen ‘rock and pebble’ ackles. jensen ‘mish. dee.’ ackles. so yes. i definitely think that ‘the partner and the teammate’ fall into this category. and i think daneel is the partner and misha is the teammate. 

to put it matter-of-factly: you simply cannot prove that this isn’t about a poly relationship. there is absolutely nothing he says that makes it obvious he is talking about one person here. because he isn’t. 

i just feel like, in the simplest terms, if this were about only daneel, that he would not be using these weird phrases that are half-hidden truths. just to compare, i watched another panel where pretty much the exact same question was asked, minus the whole ‘the one’ debacle, and, just as i suspected, it was an entirely different answer. he talks about the moment where he knew he liked her. her, specifically. says the name daneel. gushes about her. there’s no tiptoeing and weird pronoun usage and vague terminology. 

tl; dr : i think he answered the question this way because there is no ‘the one’ in his life. and he is physically incapable of leaving misha out when talking about ‘the one’ because he has TWO ‘the ones’. and he wants to answer the question to the best of his best ability, but lying is unnatural to him. he will talk about daneel at length and misha at length, but i honestly to my core don’t think you could make him choose between the two. oh! and we literally had confirmation all the way back in fucking 2016, we just never paid attention until now. so......thanks, jensen?

sorry, this got super long, but i hope i warned you well enough. 

#helloooo cockles truthing community #my anxiety is sky-high rn bc this is so damning for them #but i mean i can't feel bad because jensen SAID those things. #anyway am i contributing to cockles lore??? god i hope so #i mean it when i say i am SWEATING #if you think i'm reaching...i know more than you #rps for ts #team dumpster mansion #cockles confirmation #cockles #jenmish #long post for ts #cockles meta #relationship spec #all that jazz #jensenxmisha #mine

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 24.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

A/N: Really really huge thank you to my queen @xjoonchildx​ for making me the newspaper clippings. I love them so much! This is one of my favorite chapters because of how fun it looks! And as always I couldn’t have done it without @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​

Yoongi takes a deep breath, letting the September air fill his lungs. Who knew life could be so fucking trying?

He turns his head to you, hearing your soft footsteps down the marble stairs. He notices the small splotches of paint on your skin and it fills him with a sense of calm. You're a sight for sore eyes.

"My baby," he breathes, leaving his glass of whisky on the outdoor patio and walking back into the mansion to be with you.

"I'm all dirty," you mumble, picking at the dried paint on your hands.

"I can make you dirtier." your fiance quips and you give him a lopsided grin at his joke.

His joke doesn't match his mood and your eyebrows furrow as his arms wrap around you.

You know just how stressed he is. You know just how much his heart hurts everyday that Sera refuses to sign the divorce papers. It wouldn't be nearly as bad if you didn't seem to be growing more and more everyday.

His chin rests atop your head and he stares past you to the two marble staircases that lead up to either wing.

Even though Sera is no longer here and she's in the guest house with Jin and your dog, her ghost seems to haunt the CEO at every turn.

"I want to buy a new house." he grumbles, pulling away and looking down at you.

"Why?" you ask softly, running your hands lovingly over his arms.

"This house fills me with nothing but bad memories. I see the leech everywhere I turn… I hate that. I want a fresh start." he admits, caressing your distended sides.

You hum in agreement. "Is it too much for you right now? You have so much on your plate. Let's look for a house together when we get married," you suggest.

Just the thought of marrying you makes his heart flip inside of his chest. The thought of holding you in his arms everyday until his last is miraculous and special.

"When we buy the new house, you can decorate it any way you want." he promises.

"Oh, I plan on it." you reply, pulling him towards the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he asks curiously, letting you take him with you.

"You need a distraction, baby boy."

He shivers at your tone, how strict it is. A small smile spreads over his face as he trudges up the stairs with you. "Yes, Mistress. I do."

"Jin?!" Sera calls, dropping her bags down at the front of the guest house.

She promised him she'd try and she thinks she's doing well so far. She only complains thirty percent of the day which is a lot better than the eighty percent she's used to. She's even held her tongue a few times when Jin has told her he's going to hang out with Leena.

"I'm getting ready for work, mouse." he calls back from upstairs.

His velvet voice fills her with joy and she rushes up the stairs without a second thought.

"Can I come with you?" she begs, peeking into his bedroom.

His hands wrap and tug at his tie as he turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

"No. You're still married." he states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She scoffs gently, wrinkling her nose. There's something about how quick and dexterous his fingers are as he ties his tie that sends her stomach coiling.

He still hasn't had sex with her and he hasn't even kissed her after that fated day when she begged him to stay with her.

"Why not?" she whines softly, leaning against the door jamb.

Seokjin chuckles gently, rolling his eyes. "Because you won't sign the divorce papers, like a normal person." he announces.

"Why do you keep bringing it up?! It's always 'divorce this or divorce that,' aren't you tired of saying it yet?" the actress cries out.

Jin grabs his suit jacket, sighing so loudly that it scares the woman behind him.

"Yes, actually. I am tired of saying it. You should just do it."

"But why? It has nothing to do with you." she mumbles.

Turning to her, he tilts his head. "Yes it does. If you don't get divorced, I'm not staying with you. I'm not going to be the guy that makes another man a fucking cuckold. I don't want that, that's fucking disgusting. There's nothing for you in your marriage anymore. You don't get any money, you've been cut off, you don't love Yoongi, you don't even care! So why are you being so stubborn about signing a damn paper?"

She looks down at the floor, playing with the ends of her hair, not wanting to answer.

"Because you're spiteful," Jin answers for her, "but your spite is literally making my pregnant best friend sick. She's a nervous wreck because of you, Sera. I hate that. You have everything in the world you could possibly want. And you can't just sign a few fucking papers?"

Jin whistles for Gaesu as he squeezes past the actress in the doorway.

"I just-"

"You don't want to give up something because you're greedy. Yeah, I get it. You want others to be miserable because you've always been miserable your whole life," he turns to her, cupping her soft face and staring down into her amber eyes, "You don't need to continue to be an asshole. You need to focus on becoming a better fucking person. Not everything needs your input, sometimes you can just let everything go and you can start again on your own. Like now, you don't want to be with Yoongi, you want to be with me. And I see that you're trying, you're doing great so far. But I can only work with you as long as you work with me. And you still being married isn't working with me. It's the opposite."

She swallows thickly, looking up into his blazened mocha irises. He's so serious that it sends a shiver down her spine. When she whimpers gently, whether it's out of need or fear that he'll leave, he brushes his soft thumbs against the apples of her cheek.

"When you sign the papers, I'll sleep in your bed." he promises, pulling away.

She blinks once, twice, three times, watching him walk away from her.

Gaesu follows closely behind your best friend, excited to go to work with him.

"S-So I can't come to the club?!" she calls leaning over the banister.

"No, mouse, Leena will be there and I'm spending the night with her." Jin calls back, grabbing his car keys.

"What?! She touched you in front of me and you're just going to hang out with her again?!" she screams, hanging over the banister.

"One. Be careful, you might hurt yourself. And two, I'm sorry to break it to you but Leena has touched me so many times that her touch feels normal to me at this point. My best friend coming to hang out with me is perfectly fine. And what's more, her boyfriend will be there." your best friend calls back, opening the front door and leaving without another word.

"Fine. We'll see," Sera seethes through her teeth, walking towards her room.

Stepping into Miyoung's art studio, the natural light that bleeds through the glass ceiling really seems to highlight all of the paintings that line the walls.

"Well, if it isn't the famous artist in my very midst." Miyoung quips, stepping down the slightly curved staircase.

You smile up at the pretty woman, leaning against the wall with two coffee cups in hand.

You can see how Yoongi was always fond of Miyoung at a young age, she's beautiful and quirky with everything she does. Even her clothes scream unique and you love that.

The brown French beret that hangs from the side of her head and the long blue corduroy dress she has on screams artistry and you adore it.

"Brought you some coffee," you quip, holding up one.

"You shouldn't be drinking coffee, pregnant lady." she jeers, finally reaching the ground floor and wrapping her arms around you.

"Mine is decaf, thank you very much." you joke back, accepting the hug with open arms.

When you both turn to the walls of art where your paintings were, it's surprising to see the walls almost empty.

The people that walk to and fro with their hands respectfully behind their make your heart bloom with pride.

"Do you wanna know how much money you've made?" Miyoung whispers in your ear, a playful smile spreading on her face.

You roll your eyes, nudging her with your hip. "You know I don't care about that stuff."

"That's why you'll make tons of money." she murmurs back, earning a laugh from you.

People notice you easily when you laugh, turning to you with wide eyes. It's a bit strange to be recognized now because of the Dispatch pictures and it's even stranger when they begin to approach like they know you.

Yoongi's best friend from childhood doesn't stand for it for a second and within seconds she's fending them off with a polite smile.

"Pregnant women don't like to be crowded, if you have any questions about art, please come to me. I'm very in touch with the woman beside me." Miyoung announces, waving her hands for the people to move back.

When she shows you to the art gallery office, it feels like an out of body experience. "There were so many people." you breathe out, sitting down on the loveseat beside her large desk.

"You became famous pretty much overnight. What do you expect? People are salivating for more of your art." she announces, sipping her coffee.

It's such a bizarre thing to hear when you've only ever done painting as a hobby.

"Should I start making more art, you think?" you inquire, crossing your legs and leaning back into the comfy couch.

She hums, tilting her head. "No. I don't think so. I think you make people wait for more. Obviously not too long. But it's good to get people curious and excited for what you're going to do next, y'know? Finish the art for the mall and hotel. Have the baby and then start making more art. You've made millions of dollars on the thirty pieces you've released. That's enough to get people really excited for the next release."

You nod understandingly, letting your eyes drift over the two paintings you've created for her office.

"You're my most successful client ever. I'm proud of it." Miyoung says, making you giggle.

Your heart feels warm in her presence and you can understand why your fiance has always been fond of her. She's an amazing woman.

"Call Minho to help you get downstairs when you're ready."

"Is that necessary?" you quip, sipping your coffee.

"Of course! You're famous now." she gasps, leaning over her glass desk with a playful smile.

Yoongi sighs loudly, throwing his suit pants into his luggage.

He hasn't been able to relax for a single second. He can only pray that paparazzi in Japan aren't as desperate as Koreans.

Staring down at the multitude of watches that spin on their platforms, he gets lost in his worries.

You're giving birth in only three months time. How is he going to cope? What kind of father is he going to be? Is he going to live up to what he wants? Are you going to be proud of him?

He's so worried.

But he's more worried about the leech. When the fuck is she going to sign that goddamn paper?

He opted for platonic parting rather than suing, because it would be messier that way but Sera is so spiteful that he doesn't know what to expect. He knows Jin is trying his hardest to rein her in but who knows how long that will take. It's nerve wracking to say the least.

Yoongi's eyes flutter shut as your arms wrap around him like needy vines. The feeling of your rotund belly against his back has him sighing so softly it barely reaches your ears.

"How are the paintings coming?" he asks gently, turning around in your grasp to cup your face with both hands.

"They're almost finished." you reply, hugging him tightly.

He hums sweetly, letting his lips drift over your forehead. "Have you packed for Japan?" he murmurs, letting the sweet scent of your lavender shampoo enrapture his senses.

"I packed a little this morning, but I got caught up in my inspiration. I have to finish." you announce, putting your cheek to his bare chest.

The warmth of you against his body is so welcome during his time of uneasiness. "I'll help you pack. Just hold me for a little while. It feels good." your fiance breathes out, squeezing his eyes closed tighter.

You're so comfortable within his arms, you have no intention of moving. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and you know exactly why he's on edge but you don't bring it up.

Late nights in your post-coital glow, you've talked extensively about both of your worries and you've come to the realization that they're the same fears.

"I'm going to have to stay inside in Japan, aren't I?" you quip, looking up at him.

He snorts gently, putting his chin on the top of your head. "Probably yes. Does that upset you? I bought out the penthouse so there's a lot for you to do."

His voice is wrapped with guilt but you decide to not dwell on it. Just going somewhere with him is enough for you. You don't care if you have to stay inside, it'll be nice to leave the country for the first time with him by your side.

"Plus, y'know, soon you'll be too big to go anywhere. That's what the doctor said." he whispers.

You smile into his chest, accepting his soft voice. "I know. I'm happy to be going anywhere with you."

His thumb and index finger capture your chin, he tilts your head up so your eyes meet. It's so easy to fall into his mocha irises and the smile that spreads over your lips is so natural. When he bends down, your breath stutters in your throat and the feel of his lips on yours is something so sensational, there are no words that could describe this.

"I love you, little dove."

"I love you too."

Jin should have known Sera wouldn't take kindly to Leena showing up at the club. But he didn't think she would go so far as to show up to the club.

She looks completely terrifying sitting in her booth. She's alone and completely menacing. Even with all of the people around she can find Seokjin in a matter of seconds no matter where he goes and he doesn't know whether to find it attractive or completely scary.

"She's staring at you again," Leena quips, leaning deeper into Taehyung's embrace.

Seokjin hums in agreement, looking down at his Italian leather shoes.

"Just go talk to her or some shit. She's making me uncomfortable," Leena whines, nudging her best friend.

Jin looks over at the actress and he sighs loudly. Her eyes are narrowed at him and her lips are parted over the champagne glass in her hand.

When he stands, he can see her body go rigid with excitement.

"Good luck, bro." Taehyung laughs, kissing over his girlfriend's exposed shoulder.

It's a quick walk over to Sera's booth as Jin wades through the groups of people on the dance floor.

When he steps up to the platform, he can see how nervous she is.

"Why did you come? You know that's trouble." he chides her, sitting down in the booth.

"Because she was coming." she sneers, nodding her head to Leena.

The eye roll Jin gives is so severe that it sends chills down Sera's spine.

"You came all the way here, got snapped by the paparazzi, ordered thousands of dollars of alcohol, because you were jealous that Leena is here?! You're such a baby." he scoffs, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

"I just wanted to be here with you too," she admits meekly.

Jin looks her over before zipping up her dress to cover her exposed cleavage. "Behave tonight. Do you understand me, Kim Sera? I'm tired of having to worm my way out of awkward situations."

She nods gently and when she gets a small smile from him it makes her pride expand tenfold.

"Will you sleep in bed with me tonight?" she asks softly, sliding down the booth to be beside him.

He snorts gently, letting his arms expend over the top of the seat. "Not until you sign the papers. You know this. Don't push your luck." he chides, poking her cheek softly.

She pouts gently, looking down at the hem of her dress.

"All I have to do is sign the papers and you'll be with me?" she asks unsurely.

Jin hums in agreement, pushing some hair behind her ear. "All you have to do is free Yoongi from this marriage and you can have me." he promises.

Her cheeks puff out as she thinks, is anything ever really that simple? She's never found it to be so.

"I'll think about it." she breathes out.

That's good enough for Jin at the moment and for the first time in a long time he smiles widely at her. The expression is so blinding that her heart stutters in the recesses of her chest.

Yoongi is so completely thrilled when he throws both of your luggages to the penthouse floor.

"Wow," you breathe out, rushing over to the large windows.

Your fiance's smile is sweet and soft as he folds his arms, leaning against the gold wall.

The scenery that meets your eyes is indescribably beautiful. The way the gentle breeze in the Osaka air blows cherry blossom petals from their trees and the countless gardens that scatter the grounds below set such mysticality into your bones.

"There's an infinity pool up here for us. It's warm," Yoongi announces, walking towards you.

Your hand lands on your stomach as you watch the petals blow in the breeze. "This is beautiful," you say aloud.

The father of your child's lips are soft against the back of your neck and in your entrancement, you hadn't even heard him come close to you.

"You're beautiful. Anything for you, little dove." he promises, placing both of his hands on your stomach.

The stress seems to melt away as you stare out the window with your fiance behind you. His lips are soft and plush against the column of your neck and it wipes your mind completely blank.

When your fingers card through his hair, the gentle puft of air that warms your neck makes your legs weaker.

"I love you." Yoongi breathes.

There's nothing sexual about his touch, it's just pure passion that seems to bleed through his fingertips. But the feeling of him so close is so heavenly.

The soft classical music that plays throughout the large room is so peaceful and your worries float away for just a little while.

Next Chapter ------>

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer​, @imluckybitches​, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland​, @rspbrryy​, @iv-bts​, @bambuzlee​, @chanelbts​, @mxxngxdss​, @bluewhale52​, @milesjeon11​, @diamonddia-mond​, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97​, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn​, @bts-7beauts​, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @nikkiordonez12​, @kaitswrld​, @skamlover200​, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria​, @jikooksgirl19​, @hobbledehoy26​, @singular-itae​, @dchimminie​, @lowlifeoeuvre​, @sugaslittlekookies​, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth​, @softysuho​, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​, @betysotelo18​​, @jeonmisha​​, @iwanttohitmyself​​, @ayyyocee​​, @neverthefirstchoice​​, @itsbangtanoclock​​, @little7bitchh​​, @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​, @deathkat657​​, @firstlovesuga-93​​, @namjoonia​​, @paperpurple​​, @muzikabijou​​, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites​​, @kleff03​​, @ruinsofangels​​, @brightwingr5​​, @leekanchol​​, @rkivemagic​​, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside​​, @melaninkpops​​, @y00ngisbabygirl​​, @ungodlyjoon​​, @prochnost513​​, @dunixxd​​, @athenakyle​​, @igotnotype​​, @chxmachxps​​, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog​, @alpaca1612​, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​​, @eltrain80​​, @btsmylife21​​, @deeepvibes​​, @httpminyg​​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​​, @preciouschimine​​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​​, @kooafraid​​, @ladykadyrova​​, @singjisu​​, @yazanii​​, @moonlitmyg​​, @justzeera​​, @absolutefantrash​​, @whocaresarchives​​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​​, @bt21chim​​, @flowerboyhobi​​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #yoongi x you #ceo!bts #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #bts fic #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #smut

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Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

#s.o. writes things #head over feet #klaine #klaine fic #it's the older klaine reunion fic! #i'm loving writing this one

[sundaysundaes]

Spectra

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

The second part of Monochrome. Read the epilogue here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

Donghyuck woke up with his heart in his throat. His eyes, as they bore into the ceilings of his room, swallowed by the darkness, were shaking in both fear and rapture. Two things occupied his mind, forcibly pushing his other thoughts away and rendered them pointless.

First, he knew it wasn’t just a dream. Like what she’d previously mentioned, it felt nothing like a dream. He was completely aware of everything, perfectly sane, and could thoroughly remember every detail, every scene, every word that she said even after he woke up.

Second, he was certain that it was a memory, and although he was in it, he knew it was her memory and not his, because there were parts of it that felt vague to him before but were crystal clear now as he saw it through her point of view. He had his first soulmate dream, there was no doubt about it.

So that brought him to the next question.

Why did he dream about her? She’d found her soulmate, hadn’t she? And she had explicitly stated many times that her soulmate was not him, but a complete stranger—one that she only knew by his face and not his name. So, wasn’t he supposed to be connected to someone else—to see someone else’s memories?

He leaned up, sitting on his bed with his elbows sinking into his thighs, his fingers yanking at the roots of his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get it,” he whispered to himself, feeling a little bit lightheaded from all these unsolved questions swirling in his brain. “Am I her soulmate? Do I still have the chance to be with her?”

But even a chance would be enough, he soon decided. Even just reliving her memories every night, knowing her better, seeing her longer, that would be enough reasons for him to continue with his hope.

Perhaps, he could believe in soulmates for a little longer.

There were a few short memories he saw in his first soulmate dream, most of them were from her childhood days which made him feel content to the point he wanted to never wake up because these flashbacks always had him in them. He was an integral part of her childhood memories, the one who shaped her into the person that she was now.

But the memory that shook him the most was the memory of the time they went to the beach during their summer vacation with his family. Donghyuck watched himself sneak out of their cottage in his grey hoodie placed underneath a beige varsity jacket. He saw a few months younger version of himself, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he shouted in whispers.

“Come on, Noona, hurry up!”

“Haechannie, it’s two in the morning!”

The sight of her had always warmed his heart, but in this dream he was having, her beauty seemed almost ethereal as if her entire being was a piece of art with the sole purpose of being loved and admired.

“Which is the more reason why we should hurry up before they find out, Noona, for God’s sake, come on!” He grasped her by the wrist, yanking her forward so he could close the door behind her. They stepped down the stairs in a hurry, their flip-flops making creaking sounds on the wooden surface.

“If your mom finds out and she—” She abruptly ended her sentence with a yelp as she tripped on her feet, clutching her arms around his shoulders for balance, pressing her chest involuntarily against his back. The boy threw a glance over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around his body. Smirking suggestively, he cooed, “Baby, you’re so aggressive. At least, buy me dinner first.”

“Asshole.” She retracted her hands at once, shoving him harshly until this time, he was the one who tripped down the stairs, falling face-first on the ground, inadvertently swallowing some sand into his mouth. She concealed her marbled teeth with her fingers as she giggled at the sight, but began to run for her life when he growled, “I’m going to kill you,” and chased after her trails with his arms reaching out to catch her.

The reason they had their feet dipped in the sand at two in the morning was simply because Donghyuck couldn’t sleep at the sight of her curling beside him on the thin mattress that was laid out in the living room. The cottage only had three rooms, one was used by his parents, another one was supposed to be used by her and his twin sister, and the last one was for him and his two younger brothers to snuggle up together in a cramped bed. But Donghyuck had insisted to sleep outside so he could watch a movie before bed and his parents didn’t mind, even if his neighbor ended up joining him in the middle of the night upon his request.

So when she fell asleep next to him, her face almost sinking into the crook of his neck, and her hand laying on his stomach, mistaking him as her usual body pillow, Donghyuck had to distract himself before he thought about doing something sinful. So he shook her by the shoulder, told her to wipe the drool away from her face, and asked her to follow him outside, mentioning that he suddenly had the urge to stargaze. And although a train of complaints kept tumbling down her lips, she followed—she always did, no matter where he led her to.

“What are you doing?” He questioned the girl who stood next to him, looking like she wanted him to do something. “Sit down next to me, come on.”

“I’m waiting for you to be a gentleman.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to lay down your jacket on the ground so this lady right here won’t have sand on her shorts? You’re wearing two jackets, after all.”

“Yeah, but not for you to sit on it.” Donghyuck, who had already sat down on the damp sand, rolled his eyes. “You watch too many dramas. Guys don’t do that in real life.”

“It’s you who don’t do that.” And with pouty lips, she quietly added, “Jaemin did that for me.”

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to hear it.”

“And so how are things going on with this Jaemin so far? Is he still giving you sloppy blowjobs on the weekends?” He faked a gasp, one hand covering his mouth for dramatic effect. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot he broke up with you.” A cheeky grin crawled up his face. “On. Your. Fucking. Birthday.”

“Whatever.” She blushed. “At least, he’s hotter than you’ll ever be.”

He seemed more annoyed than he should, and she was on the verge of thinking whether her joke was going too far but Donghyuck exhaled loudly into the air, standing up on his feet again and tore his varsity jacket off his body. “Here,” he said, as he spread it out on the ground. “Your majesty.”

“Why, thank you, my prince.” She giggled, plopping down on the sand. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And they ended up throwing playful kicks and punches to each other again like the other million times they did, before they finally laid side-by-side on the sand, sweaty and out of breath.

“Haechannie.”

“What?”

“Do you think we'll still do this after we get married and have kids?” She asked, gazing at the stars that gleamed radiantly in the black night sky.

“Us?” Donghyuck rubbed his nose, a speck of sand making his skin itchy. “Like, in bed? Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I might be into rough sex, but maybe after a few years deep into our marriage so you won’t—”

“Not us getting married, you idiot!” She grappled another handful of sand, threatening to throw it on his face but Donghyuck already had his arms raised in surrender. “I mean, do you see us hanging out like this when we already have our own families to think about?”

“I don’t like to think too much.” He nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s still way ahead in the future. I’d probably die an early death from being too rich and handsome, anyway.”

“You’d die from being too dumb.”

“I was talking about me, not you.” He swatted her hand away when she was about to shove him in the chest. “Speaking of getting married, why don’t we make a pact?” Though his heart was racing a bit faster, he kept his lopsided grin intact as they shared eye contact. “If, after we turn eighteen, we end up having no dreams of our soulmates, why don’t you and I get together?”

She unexpectedly blurted out laughing. “I can understand if you think that there’s a chance of me not having any soulmate, but the chance of me not finding anyone more decent than you as my husband? How dare you, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I’m just saying,” he repeated, turning on his stomach. “If by the time we turn thirty or something we still haven’t found anyone, why don’t you and I get married?”

“I thought we’ve promised somewhere along the way in our poor little friendship that we’d never talk about this again?”

“I think we’re mature enough to have this conversation by now. So, what do you think?”

She was still on the verge of laughing. “What I think about what, Haechannie, you’re being absolutely crazy and embarrassing—”

“Why is it so hard for you to just say yes and marry me?” He insisted, holding back a laugh himself because her smile was so contagious. “Is it seriously that gross for you to think of me as your husband?”

“It’s not that, it’s—Oh my God, okay,” she finally gave in, heaving the heaviest sigh before she sat up properly and turned toward him. “Look, you’re not exactly the most romantic person out there.”

“Hey,” he pouted, scowling a little. “I can be romantic. You just don’t know it yet because you’ve never seen me on a date.”

“Yeah? Then try me.”

“Try what?”

“Be romantic. Do something that can make my heart flutter for you, oh my mighty prince,” she jeered, throwing a challenging, mocking smile at him. “If you can make my heart skip a beat, I’ll marry you.”

He scoffed. “Man, I know you’re shy but you don’t have to challenge me with this pathetic dare if you want to marry me that bad.”

She stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

He was chuckling as he captured her by the wrist. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, wait.” He tapped his chin, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip. “Let’s see… What should I do…. What should I—oh!”

She raised an eyebrow, seeing him stand up on his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” He offered her his hand and she stared at it with reluctance written in her eyes before she sighed and took it. He pulled her abruptly with all his strength to make her stumble on her feet, but he caught her just in time by circling his arms around her waist, leading her close until they’re chest-to-chest.

“Blushing yet?” He teased, smirking.

“I’m starting to think this is a bad idea,” she flatly said, pushing him away but he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“As I said,” he paused, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and running his thumb along the screen. He chose one of the acoustic songs in his music playlist—Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud which made her scrunch her nose in protest—turned his speaker to the highest volume and hid the phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m gonna take you dancing.”

She snorted but followed his lead, landing both of her arms on his shoulders. “Why am I not surprised that your song choice is something from Billboard’s Top Twenty?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I left my compilation of classic slow dance songs back at my house, along with my ballet shoes and my tutus.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm. “Okay, Ed Sheeran it is then.”

The first half of the song went by in what felt like hours to her from all the tension that arose between them. While she moved rather awkwardly, trying to match how his body slightly swayed from one side to another, Donghyuck smiled, softer than she could even begin to imagine, and gently asked, “Can I move closer?”

She could faintly feel his breath on her face even in their current position, but she gave a weak nod and answered, “S-sure.”

Donghyuck held back a grin. “Was that a stutter?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do stutter from time to time, idiot. Everyone does that.”

“Okay, okay, geez. Cranky, much?”

“I’m just not sure if—” she took a sharp intake of breath when he suddenly leaned closer, his lips almost grazing against hers before he pulled away to give very little space between them. “You’re not playing fair,” she whispered, trying not to focus on his lips.

His eyes were half-lidded as he took in her features. “You didn’t make any rules.”

“I hate you.”

“Man, I was hoping you’d feel otherwise, but,” he guided her hands so they could circle themselves around his neck, as he moved his own lower on her body, resting on each side of her waist. “I only just started, so…”

She was breathing a little heavily, but not expanding the space between them, afraid to lose the game. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to ridicule her. “Right, so, what’s next? Because you’re not making me feel anything with this, Haechannie.”

He slowly brushed her bangs away from her eyes, his fingertips grazing against the soft skin of her temple. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I love you?”

That question almost rendered her frozen on her feet, but she caught herself at the last second. “A pick-up line?” She tried to pretend it didn’t have any effect on her by scoffing out loud. “Seriously?”

But Donghyuck was not laughing nor reciprocating in any teasing manner. His eyes were dark and deep, with all kinds of emotions swirling behind them. The tone he was using when he spoke his next words was filled with nothing but sincerity and candor.

“Maybe I’ve loved you since the first time we met, but…” He added a small chuckle as if he was shy and she wondered since when did he become such a good actor? “I guess I was too young, but I do remember that one time when I saw you and I thought,” he exhaled, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek before he pressed his temple against hers, “God, I gotta have her.”

She gulped hard, feeling her breath hitched in her throat. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“You were wearing this beautiful red dress that I’d never seen you worn before, but it wasn’t just how pretty you looked that caught me off guard.” His words didn’t have as much effect on her as the tender way he regarded her with his deep, brown eyes, just utterly mesmerized by her everything. “It was the way you call my name with that adorable shy smile on your face, asking me about how you look and I just….” He leaned down so they’re eye-to-eye, with his fingers holding her face and his thumb caressing her cheek. “I just thought that maybe I want to keep you for myself. I want to hear you say my name, to show me that smile again, over and over—every day, for the rest of my life. I don’t want you to belong to someone else. I want to be the only one you can think about, both in your reality and your dreams.”

As if she was being hypnotized, her eyes began to solely focus on the way his mouth was shaping praises and terms of longing.

“I’ve never seen you as a friend, or a sister.” He was so close, so warm, so intoxicating. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything—anyone—as much as I want you now and it fucking hurts to hear another guy’s name escaping your lips because I just really…” He sighed. “Really want you for myself. All of you. Your kindness, your warmth, your crazy bedhead, your stupid, silly grin whenever you won a game against me. I want everything, and I need you to feel the same way, to need me as much as I need you.”

“Haechannie, I—”

“Listen, Noona.” His voice sounded both pained and desperate. “I know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me that but I just—I want to be selfish, even more than I already am, and let you know just how much I want to be with you,” his other hand traced along the dip of her spine, “and hold you,” the fingers that were cupping her cheek were now holding her by the chin, his thumb running along her lower lip, “and kiss you…”

She unconsciously parted her lips, perhaps putting her best effort to find her words but failed every time and the temptation that he felt to replace his finger with his own lips on her was too overwhelming so before anything went wrong, he pulled back and loudly yelled, “Okay, cut!”

The sudden loss of his touch on her body didn’t feel as disheartening to him as the look he saw on her face, and maybe the way the moonlight shone across her features was playing tricks on him, because she seemed… disappointed that he stopped.

Maybe she just got carried away with the moment. Or maybe she could tell that he was being honest the whole time, knowing that it was an actual confession rather than another crazy antic of his. And maybe she was about to give him the chance, to actually look at him in the same way he looked at her, to feel the way he felt about her, and…

And he ruined the moment.

“N-Noona?” He started when she fell quiet, hiding her eyes behind her bangs. “Are you—”

“It’s getting late,” she suddenly mentioned, bending down to grab his varsity jacket from the sandy ground and harshly pushed it toward him. “Let’s get back to the cottage. We need to catch some sleep.” And as she walked off, not glancing back to see whether he was following or not, Donghyuck noticed how red her face was even when there wasn’t enough lighting around them.

As a bystander in this memory, eighteen-year-old Lee Donghyuck felt a hollow forming inside his chest, swallowing his presence one-by-one until he ceased to exist because as he relived the situation for the second time in his life, he knew how badly he had screwed everything up. He had turned his honest confession into another teasing joke because he just wasn’t brave enough to take the risks—to tell her his actual feelings in fear of ruining the bond that they already had. He saw the look on her face vividly this time, and it wasn’t pure rejection. He had a hope, she was about to give in, and he lost his chance.

And now, as she fell harder for the stranger she met in her dreams, Donghyuck was nothing but a memory—one that she’d bury at the back of her mind, one that she’d pretend to never have existed in her life.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Hyuck,” he muttered under his breath before he blinked himself awake.

***

“Haechannie! Are you up yet?”

Donghyuck could hear a clanking sound on his window, perhaps from small rocks hitting the glass. Rubbing the headache away from the back of his head, he stepped down from the bed, taking heavy steps to greet the person standing on the other side of the window.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” his neighbor chirped with an excited smile, leaning half of her body forward, crossing over her window frame. He noticed how her eyes took a quick detour on his body, as he was not wearing any shirt, but she tried to act nonchalant about it. “A lady is gracing you with her presence, so get dressed.”

Usually, he would’ve said something flirty along the line of “But isn’t this how I always look like in your dreams?” But this time, he kept himself quiet, only sighing to himself as if he had troubles that he couldn’t talk about.

And she noticed. She always did. “Are you okay?”

“Just had a bad dream.” He shrugged, feeling sleepier than before he went to bed.

“I’m guessing, you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

He hesitated. “Well, I saw you.”

She blinked, a bit startled, but she promptly laughed it off. “Right, must have sucked then. You were waiting for a pretty stranger and I popped out instead. Sorry about that.”

He tapped his fingers against the railing, somewhat agitatedly and impatient. “Noona, about last night when we accidentally kissed. Did it… make you feel something?”

He swore, she almost fell to the floor out of shock. Blood was rushing to her face, making her incoherent. “What—why—I thought we were going to pretend it didn’t happen—”

He knew it was probably a bad idea to question all this, but if he did have the chance to be with her, no matter how small it is, if she really did feel the same way, he had to know. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

“I thought about your reaction after that kiss. I just want to know whether it made you feel something.” He was gripping the railings by then, sounding desperate, craving for her honesty. “Something about me.”

She sputtered, mouth gaping as she was rendered speechless. But before she could react any further, they both heard her mother calling her name. Donghyuck regarded it as a distraction, but to her, it was a lifesaver. Speaking in a sense of urgency, she said, “I gotta go.”

“Noona—”

“Haechannie.” The tone she was using was definite, not wanting to hear more words from him. “I think we should stop talking about it, especially when we’re a step closer to finding our soulmates.”

He frowned, feeling as if he just got impaled. “What are you—”

“I know his name now.” A weak smile appeared on her face. “I heard someone calling his name in my dream last night. That was what I was going to tell you.”

It appeared again, the hollow inside his chest, and it grew even bigger, sucking every part of him like a black hole. “So you’re going to pretend nothing happened between us?”

“Yes, because nothing happened between us,” she professed. “It was just an accident, Haechannie.” She seemed exhausted, almost as if answering his question was draining her physically. “None of us wanted that kiss to happen.”

Donghyuck glanced away, giving her the cold shoulder. “Sure. Whatever.”

She sighed, tired of his behavior. “Look, maybe you’re just confused because of everything that happened last night, what with us spending time alone holding hands, me giving you that locket with those words—maybe we crossed the line and I apologize for that since half of it was my fault. But whatever it is that you think is happening between us will disappear the second you meet your soulmate in your dream,” she claimed, using a tone like how a mother would console her crying child. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you but if being with me makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable, maybe it’s best if we keep our distance for now?”

He gaped, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “No! That’s not what—”

Her mother’s voice rang through the air again, making her flinch. “Look, I really gotta go,” she softly said with a timid smile. “We’ll talk later?”

And before he could answer, she already stepped away from her window. She didn’t look back until she had her fingers curving against her doorknob. “Oh, and umm,” she paused, looking unsure before she looked sideways. “His name is Mark Lee, my soulmate. Just thought you should know.”

And she left, trampling on his heart with every step she took.

***

There was an invisible wall between them, and no matter how hard Donghyuck tried to tear it apart, it wouldn’t budge so instead of fixing things, he decided to give her the time and space she needed.

Because what else could he have done? She had already rejected him before he could even confess properly—or for real, this time around. It was as if she was scared to give in to her feelings, which made him feel even more confident that she had felt something for him. She was just too lost in this whole soulmate concept that it blinded her entirely, while he, on the other hand, had begun to stop believing in it and dwell himself deeper in reality rather than his dreams.

But when one of his bandmates, Lee Jeno, announced that his cousin was going to come in to temporarily fill the position of lead guitar player in their band, Donghyuck had no other choice but to believe that fate did take part in connecting a red thread from one lover to another. Because, standing in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with his eyes half-covered by his white snapback, was Mark Lee—her soulmate.

Donghyuck could tell that he was the same Mark Lee she mentioned because he had seen her drawings of him. It had taken her weeks before she could finish his sketch, drawing him solely based on the memories she had witnessed in her dreams and though it wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, she did manage to sketch his distinct features—his prominent cheekbones, his thin, curvy lips, his wide, doe eyes.

The sight of him, standing just two meters away from him, sent chills down his spine.

“Hey guys,” Mark said, giving them a tentative smile. Even his awkwardness looked exactly the way she described him to be.

“This is Lee Donghyuck, our vocalist.” Jeno introduced him, “He’s an ass and you’ll probably get into a fight with him sooner or later—we all did—but after that, he’ll get all clingy to you. Just a heads up so you won’t be surprised and end up leaving the band before the gig.”

Mark laughed at that, friendly and warm, and it set Donghyuck’s heart ablaze for an entirely different reason. It was the first time he met him and yet he already despised everything that he was.

“It’s weird,” Mark said, offering his hand for a handshake. “I thought your friends call you Haechan too.”

Donghyuck froze, almost losing his grip on his phone. “What?”

Mark blinked, the realization hit him like a wave when he looked around, noticing everyone looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and questioning eyes. “Oh, I mean,” he panicked, “I-it’s nothing. I was just talking to myself. I’m weird that way.”

“Don’t worry, bud,” Jeno said, picking up his bass. “We’re all a bunch of freaks here. That’s why we get along.”

Mark smiled but seemed more like a grimace. He turned toward Donghyuck again. “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you, Lee Donghyuck. I hope we can be friends.”

Donghyuck took his hand but wished for the exact opposite.

***

“Do you have some time to spare, Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck already knew who it was without having to glance up from his phone screen. It wasn’t because Mark’s voice was distinct to his ears, it was simply because his voice and the way he said his name as if they were best friends irked him so much.

“No,” Donghyuck answered, tapping his thumbs rapidly to earn another high score on the game he was playing. He was squatting down on the ground with his shoulders slouched forward. They just finished having their third band practice in the same studio that week, and although he was drained to his boots, Jeno kept insisting to have another practice so they wouldn’t embarrass the shit out of themselves when they performed as the opening act at prom.

Mark laid his guitar case against the wall before he took a seat next to him in the alley that stood behind their music studio. “Well, you look like you do, so I’m just gonna sit here and ask you something.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “You’re actually pretty annoying, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me—”

“I dislike people in general, so don’t consider yourself special.”

Mark seemed amused at his words which pissed him off even more. “I know we just met for a few days and it’s probably better for me to leave you alone—”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me when I’m trying to finish this fucking game.” He moved his thumbs more frantically than before, making Mark worry that he was going to break his phone screen, and stopped when the game ended with him winning second place. “Look what you’ve done. Happy now?”

“I thought that was a pretty high score.”

“That was the lowest score I’ve ever achieved in my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just fuck off, Mark.” Even when his tone sounded final, Mark did not budge.

“I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just really need to ask something first,” he said, slightly forcing the other man to look at him by placing an arm on his shoulder. “I see you a lot in my dreams.”

Donghyuck knew exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t going to dwell himself in it. “Sorry, dude,” he uttered, slapping his hand away. “I’m not gay.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Mark had the bravery to laugh about it. “You’ve heard about the soulmate dream, right? How you could see your soulmate’s memories—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it and I’m also not interested.” He stood up, tucking his phone back to the pocket of his jeans, and leaned sideways to grab his backpack. “I’m leaving.”

“Please.” Mark stopped him by wrapping his thin fingers along his wrist. “Please help me. By your reaction, I know she’s told you about me and I want to find her—I need to find her. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t even know her name.”

“Well, it’s not my fucking problem, is it?” Donghyuck harshly pulled his wrist away, stomping his feet on the pavement, away from the other man.

Mark stood up, desperation sounding thick in his voice. “Can’t we just—Donghyuck-ah!”

“Fuck off, Mark.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

That stopped him in his tracks, making him turn on his heels, hissing, “Excuse me?”

Mark fidgeted slightly, swallowing his breath. “You’re acting this way because you love her. More than a friend. That’s why you don’t want to help me.”

He had earned his whole attention now. “The reason why I’m not helping you is simply because you’re a fucking stranger who’s looking for ways to get into my best friend’s pants.”

“I’m not—” Mark blushed. “Listen, I’m just trying to find my soulmate. I know she’s looking for me too. I’ve seen her memories. I’ve seen you spending a lot of time with her too. I won’t be surprised if you end up having feelings for her—”

Donghyuck almost bared his teeth. “Shut up.”

“But she’s not your soulmate, so—“

“Shut the fuck up!” It happened so fast for Mark’s eyes to catch, but the next thing he knew, Donghyuck’s fingers were fisting the collar of his shirt, slamming his body against the wall and Mark groaned lowly, feeling pain spreading like wildfire from the back of his skull.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mark Lee.” The way Donghyuck spat out his name was laced with nothing but venom. “And don’t you dare talk to me about this soulmate bullshit. Falling in love with a complete stranger just because you saw her in your dreams? Do you know how fucking ridiculous you sound in my head?”

Still wincing from the pain, he replied, “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Donghyuck snarled, tightening his grip around the fabric of his shirt. “And if I were you, I would just fuck off and try my luck finding her somewhere else because I’m not gonna tell you anything. Do we have that clear?”

Mark didn’t say a word in response, but his eyes were locked into his. Donghyuck could see how they didn’t waver in the slightest, and the way Mark’s fingernails were sinking deep into his wrist let him know that this man could hold his own battle if needed.

Donghyuck released his hold with a hard shove, and Mark didn’t blink an eye even after knowing his strength.

“Just so you know,” Mark said, when Donghyuck began to step away, slinging his backpack to one of his shoulders. “She would’ve done the opposite for you. She would’ve helped you find your soulmate. But I guess, you already know that.”

Donghyuck stomped off, kicking a trash can on his way out until it toppled over to the ground.

***

Their next band practice was filled with nothing but severe tension between him and Mark, and Jeno had to sigh in exasperation every time one of them made a mistake and blamed the other for it.

“The two of you,” he said, scowling at the two boys who were still trying to murder each other with their glares. “Just go home. Now.”

And unlike Mark, Donghyuck didn’t hesitate—didn’t even try to reason. He just snatched his backpack and walked out the door, slamming his shoulder against Mark’s on his way out.

Jeno grimaced, probably imagining the trouble Mark had to bear while seeing him rubbing off the pain. “Remember when I told you he’s an ass?”

Mark timidly smiled. “Yeah.”

Donghyuck walked home with a sore throat and sweaty bangs. He was no longer as furious as before, but he had to make sure to push every thought of Mark away from his head if he wanted to spend the rest of his evening in peace. He was beyond exhausted and in desperate need of a good, warm shower. He glanced at the house he grew to be more familiar than his own, feeling disappointed that she wasn’t sitting on her porch, waiting for his arrival like usual though she would never admit that out loud.

Well, he should’ve seen that coming. After what happened that morning, he would’ve avoided him too if he was her. But almost a week had passed and they had no interaction, not even meeting each other by coincidence. And although she seemed fine with it, Donghyuck felt more than miserable.

God, if only I can stop missing her so much…

But he couldn’t, so he broke through her fence, and turned over the doorknob of her front door. “Auntie? It’s me. I’m coming in.”

The clicking sounds of footsteps meeting vinyl flooring had him excited in anticipation of her face and the shy, awkward smile she always threw whenever they had arguments a few moments before. But the one who greeted him was her mother, grinning widely at the sight of him as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Ah, Hyuckie,” she squealed. “Glad you’re here, I was just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

“Oh, no thanks. I just ate something on the way back. Is she here?”

“She said she was heading to the park to draw something. It was hours ago, though. I’m also wondering why she hasn’t come home yet.”

“I see…” There was a knot in his stomach again, making him feel uneasy but he beamed at her again. “Well, I think she’ll be back soon but I’ll go search for her, just in case.”

She pressed a hand against her heart. “Aaw. Always being her knight in shining armor. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He blushed but covered it with a peal of bashful laughter. Saying his goodbye, he turned around to take his leave but she stopped him with a call of his name. “Yeah, auntie?”

“Have you heard…” She hesitated. “Have you heard about her soulmate?”

Donghyuck curled his fingers. “A little.”

Her eyes gleamed in sadness and, as much as Donghyuck hated to see it, sympathy. “Are you okay, Hyuckie? With all of this?”

Thunder roared inside his chest, making him stand still. “What—of course, I’m fine. I’m glad she’s having these dreams. She’ll probably gonna see him soon.”

And Donghyuck never pegged himself as an actor, but seeing how she gradually picked up her motherly smile back on her face and no longer staring at him as if one of his family members just died in such a tragic way, maybe he had a natural talent in lying about his emotions.

“I’m so glad you’re taking this well. I guess I’m not as sharp as I used to be.” She chuckled to herself, a bit diffident. “To tell you the truth, I was rooting for you to be her soulmate. You guys just look so adorable together, but maybe it’s weird for you since you probably think of her as a sister or something.”

“That’s right.” There was a crack in his voice, but he hastily covered it with another smile. “A sister.”

“Which turns out to be a good thing. Because if you love her that way but she’s not your soulmate then it’s going to be hard on both of you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You see, finding a soulmate is a rare, wonderful thing that can only occur once in a lifetime. It’s a sign from fate, and if you ignore that sign, if you don’t accept who your soulmate is and be with someone else, something bad will happen, either to yourself or to your relationship.”

“Something bad like what?”

“I don’t know, it just usually doesn’t work out.” She frowned a little bit, noticing how he seemed unusually invested with the topic. “It’s just a rumor, though, darling. So just take any of this with a grain of salt. No one can prove whether it’s true or false.”

“Of course, yeah.” He shook his head, taking control of himself. “Well, thanks anyway. I gotta go.”

“Take care, Hyuckie. And let me know when you start dreaming about your soulmate! I want to know who the lucky girl is!”

He waved a hand, replying to her with a smile but not promising anything.

***

It was already nightfall when he came to his senses, and he hadn’t found her no matter how many steps had he taken in the search of her presence. He had visited the park she often went to in her spare time, the garden near their houses, even the cafe where she once grew fond of. And yet, she was nowhere to be found.

He had tried to call her several times but they were always directed to her voicemails, and he grew even more anxious with more time passing by, worried sick of her well-being.

So when she finally walked past his house, carrying her sketchbook in her arms and a dazed smile on her face, Donghyuck nearly screamed.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He shouted, jumping off his porch and ran to her spot. She was startled, her entire body shaking by the sound of his voice. Her sketchbook slipped from her hands, meeting the cold hard ground that was slightly damp from the drizzle.

“You scared me,” she said, her hand going to her chest. “I was just from the park—“

“I was from the park and you weren’t there!” His eyes were scanning her profile, making sure she was fine. “Where have you been? Do you know how late it is?”

She frowned. “Why do you sound like my mother?”

“I’m not—” Donghyuck exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to collect himself. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, so you can stop acting so weird.” She bent down to pick up her sketchbook, but he was faster. “Thanks.” She awkwardly smiled when he handed it to her, noticing how his fingertips brushed hers ever so slightly. “Have you been looking for me all this time? I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.”

There were a good few seconds of silence where they just gazed deep into each other’s eyes before they began to quietly laugh, exchanging sheepish smiles with knowing eyes. “I guess we avoided each other for nothing then,” she said, holding out her hand. “Are we okay? With everything?”

Donghyuck’s eyes were soft and longing as they peered into hers. He took her hand and pulled her forward until she landed on his chest, embracing her tightly with both arms. “We’re okay.”

“Good,” she lightly murmured, placing her chin on his shoulder as she tiptoed to match his height. “Because I’ve missed you, Haechannie. You and your whole stupid antics.”

It still felt awkward for him, and maybe for her too, to suddenly ignore their heated debate about the kiss they shared and the feelings they had for each other. And maybe they would fight about it again in the future, probably with him starting the fire the second he lost control of his emotions again. But he wanted to forget all of that for now, just for tonight, so he could focus on how perfect she felt in his arms, how both overwhelmingly intoxicating and comforting her scent was, and how nice it was to hear his name falling down her lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Noona,” he whispered. “You could’ve at least texted me where you were. I was worried sick about you.”

“Okay, that was what I was going to tell you.” She pulled away slightly so she could look at him with a pair of animated eyes. “I just went on a date.”

“A… date?” He shivered. “With who?”

“With Mark Lee.” Her cheeks turned rosy with her smile nearly splitting her face in half. “My soulmate.”

Donghyuck gaped, a spark of electricity running through his veins. “H-how?” He swallowed hard.

“A funny story, actually.” She shyly rubbed her nose. “I was trying to draw that pine tree near the pond—the one where we used to carve our names on—and I saw him passing by with his guitar case strapped to his back and a camera in his hand—just like the first time I saw him in my dream. And he saw me through his camera lens and then we were just staring at each other with our mouth wide-open, like can you believe it? It just happened out of nowhere. He noticed me at the same time I noticed him so he must have been seeing me in his dreams too.”

With more words falling from her lips, Donghyuck’s heart raced even faster. It was the first time in his life he ever felt terrified down to his soul. He felt weak, powerless and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a way to win against fate. He didn’t know how to defy his destiny.

Though she was an arm’s reach away, it felt like they existed in different universes.

***

It’s hard to pretend to be fine when deep down inside, you feel like drowning and Donghyuck knew how that felt first hand. She regularly came by to his room to say hello but she never laid herself down on his bed. She never touched his arms when she laughed. She no longer pressed her cheek against his shoulder when she felt sleepy. He could tell that she was trying to respect his feelings, not wanting to lead him further ever since that accidental kiss happened. She was trying to be cautious, to draw lines between them, so he’d know his boundaries and stay still on his place, and continue to regard her as nothing but a friend.

It was torture.

They no longer spent their nights together, with her making excuses about studying for her final tests and her college entrance exams. And Donghyuck didn’t mind, though his heart craved desperately for her attention because he couldn’t properly breathe whenever she was around. He felt like he was transforming into someone else, almost like a robot, that only smiled when she smiled and responded with words as little as necessary.

He continued seeing her in his dreams every night, and only then could he truly feel joy. Only then he could have the time to look at her face as long as he wanted. Only then he could hear her calling his name without inflicting some kind of pain in his chest. But even then, he still couldn’t touch her. Even then, she was still out of reach.

She was moving out of town before long, preparing herself to settle at her dorm before she started her first year in college.

“Hey,” Donghyuck softly called, as he leaned against her doorframe, watching her finish packing what was left in her room. It was unfamiliar, he thought, the sight of her room now that her novels were packed in boxes, her clothes were no longer hanging inside her closet, the posters of her favorite idols folded and unseen. It was only her scent that somehow still linger faintly in the air that seemed recognizable to him.

“Hi.” She smiled back, her shoulders going down in relief at the sight of him smiling sheepishly with his eyes peeking from under his bangs. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come to say goodbye.”

“Of course, I would. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while.” The way she said it, almost heartbrokenly, made his smile falter from his face.

“Yeah, sorry, I was…” He scratched his cheek. “Busy.”

She took a good look at him, not saying anything and it made him feel queasy. “I saw you on stage during your graduation,” he said, changing the topic. “You looked beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you come to say hi? I was looking for you.”

You did? “You seem occupied with your friends and family. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Haechannie,” she sighed and he wondered what kind of mistake did he make with his words. “You’ll never bother me. I mean, yes, you bother me a lot as in you annoy the hell out of me but you never bother me with your presence. I missed you on that day. I’ve been missing you for the whole week. And I still kinda miss you now.”

He grew weak. “I miss you too.”

“Why do we keep saying these things when we literally live next to each other?” She chuckled but it sounded dry before she gave in to the silence again. “Are things… okay between us?”

He tried not to flinch. “Were things not okay between us before?”

“I don’t know, you were acting a bit weird after…” She knew the words, she just wasn’t sure whether it was wise for her to say them. “Well, after everything that happened. I just wasn’t sure how to approach you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess there were just a lot of things running through my mind at the same time.” He brought his head down, looking at his feet. “I’m okay now, though. And I hope we can go back to how we were.”

“Of course, Haechannie.” She stood up, opening her arms to him and he answered immediately, half-running to her spot before he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She sighed the second their skins make contact with each other, exhaling in relief. “Please don’t ever give me the cold shoulder again. I can’t stand it.”

“Okay, okay.” He almost let his lips graze her temple as he spoke. Almost. “Do you want to go somewhere, just the two of us? You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right?”

“I won’t be leaving until next year if that’s what you want me to do.” She grinned childishly. “So take me away, Haechannie. I’m all yours.”

And although he mirrored her grin, his heart was shattering one piece at a time because he knew she only meant her last line as a fleeting joke, and yet he wanted it to become a promise made solely for him.

They tried to catch up as much as they could during dinner in the cafe that she loved so much. He hated the taste of their food—everything somehow felt either too sweet or too sour on his tongue—but he never mentioned it to her, not wanting to erase her happy grin whenever she took a spoonful of gelato into her mouth. Their conversations didn’t go as awkward as he had imagined, but it ended up with her asking more questions and with him only nodding or shaking his head in response. He tried to cover it up with smiles or waves of laughter, and noticing how she hadn’t complained about it so far, maybe he did a pretty good job of masking his feelings.

“It feels so good to have you back,” she said, hands buried deep in the pocket of her coat as she blew hot air into the cold weather, watching puffs of air forming in front of her lips.

They were walking back to their houses, matching their steps with one another with their voices being the only ones that could be heard within the neighborhood. It was late, and she knew she really should have gone to catch some sleep to wake up early on the next day but Donghyuck’s voice in her ears was soothing, making her long to hear more of it, especially when she knew, she wouldn’t be able to hear it again in a while.

Donghyuck sank half of his face behind his scarf. “I never left you, though.”

“Liar. You totally avoided me this whole time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You kissed me and pretended it didn’t mean shit.”

“I kissed you?!” She gasped, blushing as she stopped in her tracks. “It was an accident!”

Donghyuck turned around, facing her. “It was still a kiss, nonetheless.”

They were walking on a thin rope. He knew it was a sensitive topic, and she also knew that it was best for them to avoid it but she was leaving on the next day and she couldn’t help but feel that he was still holding secrets from her. It was time for her to face this once and for all, so they could go back to the way they were before it was too late.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” She nervously asked, but tried to keep her voice steady. “I can’t exactly turn back time.”

Donghyuck’s eyes glinted mysteriously under the dim lighting of the streetlight. “You really want to have this conversation after what happened to us last time?”

“It’s not like you’re giving me any options. I just want us to be like how we used to, not with you acting all awkward and agreeing to every word I said.”

“So you noticed? I thought I was putting a good act.”

“Haechannie.” It was almost like a plead, the way she said his name. “I’m tired of seeing you like this. Like you’re in pain and I’m the one who caused it. So if you have anything to say, say it right now. What are you so upset about, exactly?”

He took his time contemplating, he really did, but he hadn’t finished thinking everything through before his emotions took control over him again, making him blurt out, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just pissed because you seem fine the next day after that kiss happened and I’m over here losing sleep still trying to sort out my goddamn feelings for you.” There was a pause, as he tried to catch his breath, but before she could form a response, he questioned, “Do you ever feel something for me, Noona?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know, I’m—”

“Be honest.”

Another pause, where silence struck like a hurricane. “Maybe I did have feelings for you in the past,” she finally admitted and his eyes gleamed in both joy and anticipation, “But even then, I wasn’t sure because we grew up together, Haechannie. We slept on the same bed, we even took baths together. I wasn’t sure of how I felt because I never had this kind of relationship with anyone before.” She sighed, rubbing the side of her temple. “And with you constantly making me confused on whether you had feelings for me or not also didn’t make this any easier for me.”

“What about now?” It was the question that mattered the most to him. “How do you feel about me now?”

“Haechannie—”

“No, listen to me.” He stepped forward, wrapping his lean fingers along her wrist. “Remember that time on the beach when you dared me to be romantic and I told you I loved you? I think you know by now that I wasn’t pretending that night—”

She averted her gaze, trying to pull her hand away. “Please stop—”

“Noona.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands, lifted her face so she could only look at him. “I still feel the same way about you. It never changed, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it because I cared about our friendship as much as you do, but—”

“Stop.” Lying a hand on his chest, she tried to push him away. “It isn’t right. You’re not my soulmate, we shouldn’t do this—”

“I don’t care about your fucking soulmate!”

The sudden roar that erupted from his mouth was echoing loud in her ears, making her freeze on her feet, with her hands shivering against his chest. She looked frightened and it tore him to pieces. Cursing under his breath, he stepped away, his skin no longer making contact with hers.

“I just…” He started and failed instantly, wanting to caress her cheek, embrace her to soothe her down but was too scared of startling her again. “What I want to say is that I care about us. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone else in my life.”

“I care about you too, Haechannie.” There was a quiver in her voice as if she was on the verge of crying. “I care so much about you.”

“Why does it feel to me like you’re about to contradict your own words?” There was no answer and the tension was so thick, it felt like he was suffocating. “I saw your reaction at that time when we were at the beach. I know how you wished parts of my confession were true and I’m telling you that all of it was—I meant every word I said that night.”

“Stop—”

“I love you, Noona,” he immediately said, before she took his chance in answering. “I really do, now more than ever. So if you still have feelings for me, please—”

“I don’t.”

Donghyuck’s jaw fell slacked on his face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Haechannie. I’m sorry for leading you on, but I don’t. I don’t feel the same way.” She was looking everywhere but his eyes, her voice was clouded with emotions, becoming unclear as seconds went by. “I care about you and I do love you but only as a brother and a friend. I can’t give you more than that.”

He stood still in silence, clenching his jaws. “Can’t or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head frantically. “Look, we have soulmates for a reason. Even if we both give in and accept our feelings, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“I don’t care, I’m willing to try.”

“Well, I’m not. I care about our friendship too much. I don’t want anything to ruin what we have now. Especially after I meet my soulmate and you meet yours.”

Donghyuck could feel himself slowly withering away. “So you just want us to go back to how we were? After this?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have to see her to know she was spilling tears from her eyes. It was already spoken clear in her voice. “I-if that’s okay with you.”

And if he was much more mature, maybe he would’ve been able to let everything go. Maybe he would’ve been able to step forward and twist his fingers around the strands of her hair, cradling her gently in his arms and whisper, “Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” But that wouldn’t be him. And he was so tired of being someone else this whole time, trying to hide how he really felt for her.

So, underneath the darkness and the silence of the space that was hanging between them, he told her, “No, I don’t think we can go back to how we were.” And even as he watched her cry, covering the sobs that threatened to fall from her lips with her palm, he said, “I’m sick of pretending, Noona. So if I can’t have you that way, I don’t think I can be your friend and do nothing but sit there, watching you slip away into another man’s arms. I’m not as good of a person as you think I am. And as long as we’re both selfish with what we want—with you wanting to keep our friendship together and with me wanting you that way—this is as close as we can get.”

“What—” Her shoulders were shaking with every breath she took. “Why does it have to come to this—I—”

“Make your decision now.” His voice was loud and clear, making him surprised by how steady he sounded despite all the storms swirling in his chest. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Tears were spilling down her cheeks as her eyes grew wide, staring at him with parted lips but only whimpers could be heard. He knew how ruthless he was being, and he felt sorry for making her stand in this position.

So, with a heavy heart, he walked away.

***

Days passed by in silence, and they turned to weeks, and months, and when he finally had the bravery to reply to her words with sentences longer than, “I’m doing fine,” and “Sorry for the late response, I had things to do.” It was already several months after his graduation and he was moving out of the place he called home into his dormitory that stood hundreds of kilometers away from her place.

He was nineteen and she was twenty, and he had never loved anyone else while she was tangled deep in her lover’s arms.

And it was maybe his fault because he was the one who pushed her away. She’d asked him to take a day off college so they could fly back to their hometown and celebrate his birthday together but he declined, making random excuses that sounded like a train of lies to her ears but she took notice of his tone and forced out a laugh.

“Then maybe I’ll see you when my birthday comes up?”

“Sure.” But it wasn’t a promise. He thanked her for the present she gave him but ending his call shortly before she even asked about his day.

He sent her a birthday present—a book that she once loved to read as a child, but was thrown away by her mother by accident—and he received five missed calls from her and nine different texts, begging him to answer her calls but Donghyuck was busy burying his fingers deep inside his locks and yanking at the roots with one hand, and rubbing the unspilled tears from his eyes with his other one as he sat on the edge of his bed, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

And he began to fear the night when exhaustion would consume every part of his body and invisible hands began to press his eyelids down until he fell asleep and woke up in her memories. It was painful enough for him to not be able to see himself as often as he used to, and it was torture when Jaemin began to take his place, forcing Donghyuck to stand in the background and watch as he planted his lips on the pair that should’ve belonged to him. He had to hear her gasp Jaemin’s name between kisses, had to see her card her fingers through his sandy blonde hair, had to see her watching him with dazed eyes and swollen lips.

Donghyuck always willed himself to wake up and he found himself breathing hard when he did.

That night, another memory occurred and it was when she shared her first kiss with Mark. They were at her dorm, her roommate was away and she pulled him by the hand to walk deeper into her room. Mark seemed awkward, like how he always did, scanning the room and gulping as he noticed how the entire place smelled pleasantly like her.

“Coffee?” She offered, and he nodded. Taking a seat at the side of her bed, he played with his fingers, trying to hide the quiver that sparked in his fingertips. She joined him soon after with two cups of hot coffee on her hands, which he took with a grateful smile.

“Why do you look so nervous?” She questioned between small, shy giggles that wrenched Donghyuck’s heart from how much he missed hearing them.

“I’m not—it’s just—” Mark gulped, tapping his fingers anxiously against the cup. “It’s my first time being in a girl’s room.”

“Haven’t you dated anyone before?”

“I went on a few dates but nothing serious happened. And when I started seeing you in my dreams, I just stopped dating entirely.”

She was about to take a sip of her coffee but stopped mid-air, eyes unblinking. “You were waiting for me?”

He bashfully smiled. “M-maybe…”

Her eyes drooped down, a faint blush smearing her cheeks. She placed her cup down on her nightstand before she turned toward him again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“What—” He sputtered, holding the side of his face, his round eyes turning even wider. “What was that for?”

But she didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he answered with his lips instead.

Donghyuck woke up with a pain in his chest, and he felt so sick, so disturbed, that he began to jump down his bed, startling his roommate who was deep in slumber. He snatched his jacket from the floor and closed the door behind him with a small thud. He needed to distract himself so he burst into the night air, not caring if the cold made his teeth chatter behind his lips.

***

His dreams, they became nightmares. And they didn’t stop even when he woke up. He was losing sleep and had the hardest time concentrating on everything. He was putting his best effort to move on, to forget about her existence entirely and he had been successfully avoiding her calls or her pleads to meet up every time a long holiday came up. But how could he forget about her when she kept showing up in his dreams, making him feel jealous, feel pained, with no way of stopping it?

It was a week before his birthday when his mother begged him to come home and celebrate it together with his whole family. Though he was reluctant to go, worrying that he’d probably see her on his way back, he eventually agreed to his mother’s wish. If they ended up meeting each other, maybe it was a sign for him to tell her about these dreams he’d been having of her and see how it would go from there.

It was raining, the third day he spent lounging on the bed in his room. It looked just about the same, but with fewer things and thicker specks of dust. And he kept his curtain closed, not wanting to look at the other side of his window.

A sudden ring of his iPhone sent jolts to his entire body.

It was from an unknown number. He usually wouldn’t respond to it, but there was something in his chest that told him to answer no matter what excuses he came up with.

He slid his thumb along the screen and pressed the phone to his ear, but he did not say a word, waiting for the other person to ignite the conversation.

“Haechannie. It’s me.”

He had a hunch who it was, but hearing the sound of her voice so close to his ear still almost sent him falling to his knees. The words I miss you, I’m sorry I’ve been trying to push you away, but I can’t pretend anymore, I miss you, I miss you so much, I’m going insane threatened to fall from his lips so he kept his mouth shut, not believing in himself just yet.

“I could tell how you wouldn’t pick up if you knew it was me, so I’m using a new number.”

“It’s…” He licked his lips, trying to tame his racing heart. “It’s been a while, Noona.”

“Don’t say that when you’ve been avoiding me for years, Lee Donghyuck. I know you’re home so let me in. It’s pouring outside.”

His grip tightened around his phone. “You’re… here?”

“Yes, idiot. Your mom told me last night that you’re here so I flew back the first thing in the morning to meet you. If you make one more excuse of not wanting to see me, I will literally climb up your wall and kick your window open myself, I swear to God.”

Donghyuck would’ve laughed because it was so her to say things like that whenever she got angry, but he was so overwhelmed with the thoughts of seeing her in person that he tripped over his own feet before he ran down the stairs.

The second he opened the front door and saw her standing on his porch, with her hair a little wet from the rain, all the air nearly left his lungs. She was still wearing her trench coat, a scarf around her neck with her suitcase stood idly next to her. He noticed that she must have returned straight back from the airport, not even spending a second resting in her own house when it was only a few steps away from where she stood.

“Can I come in?” She asked, trembling slightly from the cold. There was a huge urge to embrace her that he almost couldn’t control, to share his warmth and steal all the shivers away from her body. But he swallowed all of his feelings with a hard gulp, and stepped back to let her in with a small nod.

She closed the front door behind her, pressing her spine against it and they both waited in the silence of his house, expecting the other to strike a conversation but neither of them had the bravery to find a word. The ticking sound of the grandmother’s clock in his guest room was loud, matching the thundering sound of his heartbeat.

“Where are your family?” She eventually uttered, peeking at him from behind her bangs.

“Visiting my cousins outside of town.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Just didn’t feel like going so I told them I was sick.”

“I see…”

And silence struck again. It was so tense, the awkwardness between them and it was beginning to suffocate him. “Noona, I think—”

“Can I hug you?” She spoke in such a quiet voice, but it sent powerful vibrations down his spine. He was busy gawking at her, not sure how to respond and it didn’t matter, because she already took a few steps toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking her face deep into the crook of his neck.

Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his arms still dangling weakly on his sides.

“Seems like you’ve lost some weight,” she spoke in whispers, her breath felt like fire on his skin. “Have you been eating well?”

It was hard trying to focus on her voice when the sound of his heart clamoring inside his ribcages was deafening in his ears. He only hummed in response, moving his hands slightly until they rested on the sides of her waist, tense and awkward.

“I really,” she breathed, her voice quivering. “Really miss you, Haechannie.”

It was all too much for him to bear, too many flashbacks, uncontrolled feelings, and hidden emotions washed over him at the same time, making him feel dizzy and emotive. So instead, he focused on what mattered the most. “You’re shivering. We should get you changed.” And he pulled away before she could reply. Noticing how the loss of their warmth on each other’s skin was as painful for her as it was to him, he offered his hand with a timid smile, which she immediately laced together with hers.

He guided her to his room and released her hand to rummage the inside of his closet, trying to find that particular sweater of his that she grew to be fond of. She slid open his curtain to brighten the room though it didn’t do much because the clouds were dark and thick, pouring heavy rain to the earth.

“Here,” he said, handing her his navy blue knitted sweater. “I’ll go outside so you can change.”

She grabbed him by his wrist before he stepped aside. “No, it’s fine, just—” She cleared her throat, didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. “Just turn around for a little bit.”

The old Donghyuck would’ve had a blast teasing her about this, so when he simply turned around, bringing his head down to stare at his feet while scratching his nape from being both shy and awkward, the feeling of loneliness began to consume her heart.

She was losing him. He wasn’t the person she remembered him to be.

“I’m done,” she called when she had finished changing her damp blouse into his sweater. The fabric fell loose around her body, its hem reaching to the middle part of her jean-clad thighs. “You can turn around now.”

Donghyuck slowly turned on his heels, but his eyes were looking everywhere but hers because he knew, once he saw her again wearing his clothing around her body like a lover would, he would lose his common sense.

“It feels familiar, doesn’t it?” She lightly laughed, trying to keep it casual but it felt strained. “I mean, us spending time in your room with me wearing your clothes.”

He tiredly smiled, leaning against the wall. “Yeah.”

“How was your birthday yesterday? I’m sorry for not sending you any present, I wasn’t sure you wanted to receive one from me... Did auntie make you a cake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t good.”

She tucked a loose strand of her hair, wetting her lips. “You always said that, but you ate all of it.”

He wanted to sneak a glance at her, wanted to be captivated by her beauty just for a split second, but noticing it was best for him to stop. Otherwise, she’d entrap him again. “Yeah… I did.”

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you look at me, please?”

He tightened his jaw, taking a few seconds in silence to prepare himself before he slowly looked up, peering at her features from behind his bangs.

He had seen her sad before—multiple times, in fact—but it was never like this. She never looked this heartbroken before, and he loathed the fact that, unlike any other times where she cried over anyone else, he was now the reason for such emotion to arise.

And maybe he looked the same to her, as she instantly grew speechless, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater. “How… are you?” She asked, and he knew that wasn’t the question she intended to say but maybe she was afraid and uncertain whether her words would inflict more sadness to his eyes more than she already did so far.

“I’m doing well.”

“Have you made any friends at your campus?”

“A few.”

“Ah… Great, then.” She was going insane, she could feel it, and when he never tried to spark a conversation like she did, she began to lose her patience. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Her tone somehow a tad colder this time around.

Donghyuck slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You ignored my calls, you rarely replied to my texts—”

“Yeah, well, I was busy—”

“Two years, Haechannie. You had two fucking years to reach out back to me, and you’re simply telling me you were busy?! If you’re going to lie, lie better!”

“Well, you already have your whole life perfect without me anyway.”

Hot tears began to well in her eyes. “Do you not… need me anymore?”

He looked away, his chest suffocating. “You should leave. Get some rest. We’ll talk la—”

“Stop it!” She cried out, forcing him to look at her in the eyes by the desperate tone in her voice. “Stop acting like this! Stop pretending like you’re not hurting when you are just as much as I am!”

His eyes gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. “Why are you even here?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain that was about to erupt from her chest. “Is it so wrong for me to see you?”

“I thought we’ve both decided that it’s best if we stay away from each other.”

“You decided.” It was both sorrow and anger that painted her voice. “You decided to stay away from me. I never wanted us to be like this. I’ve been trying to reach out to you and you pushed me away every time, so don’t you dare blame this on me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He vocalized in outrage, his voice reverberating through the air almost as heavy as the storm that poured outside. “I revealed all of my feelings out to you, asked you to make a choice and you just stood there doing fucking nothing! How do you think that made me feel?”

She stepped back, her hand on her chest. “I—” She fumbled with her words. “It was all so sudden, I didn’t know how—”

“So sudden?!” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I have been trying to tell you that for years, Noona!”

“You flirted with me for years, that didn’t count as—”

“Well, I had to pretend everything was a joke because you always looked like you were seconds away from crying, afraid of ruining our friendship and it made me think that maybe you never really liked me that way at all! I don’t even know how you feel about me now because you’re never honest even with yourself.”

“I…” She nibbled on her lower lip, scared and anxious. “I don’t know whether I—”

“Of course, you don’t,” he spat out, scoffing loudly. “You never do. That’s what I fucking hate about you. You’re such a coward. You don’t want to be with me but you keep coming back to me, making me feel things I shouldn’t, making me yearn for you again when I literally spent every second of my life trying to forget you even exist. I had to watch you slip away from my arms twice as if it wasn’t enough for you to hurt me one time—”

“I never meant to hurt you—”

“But that’s all you fucking do!” Donghyuck unintentionally slammed the side of his fist against the wall out of sheer fury, making her take a step backward, terrified. “Do you know how much you’re driving me insane from seeing you here within my grasp but not having the right to touch you in the way I want to? Just how fucking selfish can you be?!”

Tears were forming in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure whether they emerged from sadness or anger. “I’m selfish?! I’m trying to do the right thing! You know how things can go bad if we ignore the signs and deny our soulmate, so even if I agree to be with you, what if things don’t work out and we end up—”

“I’m so fucking tired of soulmates.”

Donghyuck had her body pressed against the wall, his hand on her face and his lips on hers, meeting together in a heated kiss. She closed her eyes in reflex, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, gasping into his mouth when he pressed harder. Donghyuck felt like a flame, scorching every inch of her skin that was connected to his and she let herself grow weak, succumbing to the fire that was about to devour her whole.

When he let go, the tip of his nose was still grazing against hers, his fingertips holding her by the jaw, while his other hand was secured tightly around her waist.

“I’m giving you another chance to make your decision.” He breathed out, hot breath caressing her skin. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing ragged and Donghyuck could count her eyelashes if he wanted to. It was torture to keep this little space between them because to him, they were like magnets, both desperately drawn to each other, wanting to consume one another.

Maybe it was like that for her too, because when she took her next breath, she had her fingers around the collar of his shirt, tugging it down so their lips met once again in a searing kiss.

It felt complete—no, it felt more than complete. It made him feel infinite. Every touch, every gasp, every little whimper that came out of her mouth made him feel alive and he wanted more, he wanted everything. He wanted her.

And to her, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it didn’t feel like she was doing something sinful, something forbidden. Everything felt right, the way her body fit his perfectly, the way he moved his lips against her, with the touch of their tongues nearly sending her down to her knees.

“Haechannie,” she breathed heavily as he ran his lips down her jaw to her neck, before he moved back up again, melding their lips together because he couldn’t waste any second longer being apart from her.

The desperate call of his name rendered him powerless so he pressed himself against her harder, embracing her better so they could hold on to each other. And by the relieved sigh she made as she circled her arms around his neck, her fingers finding a home in his hair, she must have felt the same.

“I love you,” he murmured against the supple skin of her neck, making a messy ponytail out of her hair to expose more skin. “Fuck, Noona, I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” He lifted her body up the wall, leaving her with no choice but to tangle her legs around his waist for balance, his hands sliding dangerously along her thighs as she connected their mouths again.

Donghyuck’s voice was deep and hoarse, foreign to her ears but she loved it. She loved everything new she found about him, as much as she had loved everything about him in the past. She knew she wasn’t being fair; she knew it wasn’t a good idea to hold him like this, but it felt so terrifyingly good and there was not a part of her mind and body that shouted for her to stop. He was her puppet master, plucking on her strings, and she didn’t mind being tangled under his fingers.

She flinched when she felt him pressing his hips against her, pinning her against the wall and he noticed as she moaned a bit louder against his mouth, pulling a similar groan from the back of his own throat. The sound of her lustful cry made him go absolutely insane and not familiar with his own strength, he carried her to the bed, making her yelp in shock and wrapping her legs and arms around him tighter in the fear of falling.

But the way he laid her down on his bed was surprisingly gentle, sliding down a pillow underneath her head before he dipped his face down, pressing a warm kiss on her temple. The sudden change of pace made her blush, cheeks blooming red as she became conscious of how he gazed at her features—how the previous loneliness in his eyes was replaced with both felicity and uncertainty, asking for her sign to stop or continue with everything.

She swallowed her breath when he stood on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, his silver necklace glinting faintly under the soft glow of thunder that flashed on the other side of the window. She flinched, not from the fear of lightning, but from the way his vulnerable eyes were filled with need and affection. She had once told him that Jaemin made her feel wanted—made her feel desired—and she thought that was really the case, until she saw the look Donghyuck gave her and suddenly everything that Jaemin did felt pale in comparison.

Donghyuck needed her like a drowning man needed air.

So when he bent down and kissed her again, she felt like he was unraveling her soul, stripping her naked both her body and her mind, and as if she was a blank canvas, he cast iridescence on her skin, drawing lines with his fingertips and painted a spectrum of colors with his lips.

As a man of passion, Donghyuck’s kisses were strangely tender but it elicited as much fire, if not more, as any fervent kisses she had ever shared with the other two men in her life.

“Noona,” he abruptly stopped, eyes unfocused as he broke away, expanding the space between them but only for a few inches. “You’re not regretting any of this, are you?” It was the question he’d been dreading to ask, but he had to before she ended up living with guilt. “I told you to make a choice before but…” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her skin in such a soothing manner that she would’ve probably fallen asleep to it if her heart wasn’t racing like this. “But if you feel like this is not what you want, you can back out anytime. I’m not going to force you, and I’m not going to leave you even if you push me away now. I’ll still be your friend, I promise, so it’s okay.” He smiled but the only thing it conveyed was sadness. “It’s okay if you want to put an end to this. It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me. It’s your choice.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like crying. “Well, I’m not okay with it.” She ran her thumb along his lower lip, in a paper-thin-like touch. “I think you’ve noticed by now that I…” It was too much. It really was too much for her to admit it without being flustered.

“Tell me,” he pleaded, gently taking her wrist when she was about to cover her face with her hands. “Tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

She shook her head, heart thumping loudly. “I can’t—It’s embarrassing. You already know how I feel anyway.”

“But I need to hear you say it.” He kissed her palm, leaning against her touch like how a little kitten would. “Please?”

Her voice was quivering when she spoke. “I love you, Haechannie.”

He’d heard her say those words many times in his life, but only now, they felt different in his ears. And almost like a prisoner being released from his chains, he nearly whimpered in bliss. “Y-you do?”

She shakily nodded her head once. “You were right. I’m a coward. I’m too afraid of losing what we have, not realizing that we can actually become so much more.”

He smiled, small but lovingly. “And it’s fine even if I’m not your soulmate?”

She was entranced with the way he kissed her fingertips one by one. “I don’t care.”

“I love you too, Noona.” His tongue was wet and slick when she felt it against her earlobe, his voice sounding dangerously close and sultry, even when his words were innocent. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally hear you say this. I’ve tried so hard to move on but I couldn’t. It’s just—for me—” his lips hovered above hers again, and she felt his whispers directly on her skin. “There’s no life without you.”

She carded her fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs until she could gaze directly into his eyes. “There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

As they were connected, both their bodies and minds, it felt like nothing mattered anymore. They already had what they needed, already owned what they craved, already found what they were searching for. Donghyuck was sheathed deep inside her, his kisses were wet and languid, passion never dissipating no matter how many times he had tasted her.

It never felt unnatural, never felt awkward, and there were no uncertainties whenever their skin made contact. It was almost as natural as breathing, and though they needed more experience in some parts, they were already content with everything that they shared. Every breath, every gasp, every moan was sending heat to every inch of their bodies, making Donghyuck’s bangs stick with sweat and her cheeks reddening from his feverish touches.

When it finally ended, both still feeling lightheaded from reaching their highs, orgasms hitting hard like waves in a storm, Donghyuck was shaking, murmuring both expletives and praises against the skin that covered her heart, making her shiver.

“What is it?” She questioned tenderly, gentle fingertips caressing his cheekbone. “You’re trembling.”

But he didn’t answer, laying his head down on her chest, her heartbeat vocalizing faintly against his eardrums. He had never felt so happy, so complete, so perfect, and it was all because of her.

“I’m…” he exhaled heavily, lost for words as he sank deeper in his own elation. She curled her fingers around his jaw, lifting his face so they could peer into each other’s eyes.

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s late, but…” She beamed at him. “Happy birthday.”

And he kissed her with so much fervor, his eyebrows adjoined in passion and he whimpered against her mouth, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye and she smiled, hugging him close because finally, after seventeen years had passed, they truly found each other.

He was her life, and she was his, two different souls united into one.

***

Almost an hour passed by with them just enjoying each other’s company as they laid side-by-side on the bed, with Donghyuck idly sucking more bruises to her skin and her panting his name against his pillow. He was trailing his fingertips from her nape down to the dip of her spine as she laid with her stomach pressed against his sheets, slightly quivering from his touch.

Both of them lacked the energy to get dressed or wash their sweat away from before, and instead just dwell further in each other’s warmth, basking in the soft glow of the sunset that had replaced the storm.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” She asked with her cheek pressed against the pillow, looking at him with drowsy eyes.

He snorted. “Because you were too big of an idiot to notice and too goddamn stubborn to—”

“Forget I asked.”

Donghyuck grinned to himself but she soon felt it on her skin. “I’m still sweaty, Haechannie, get off me.”

“No way, I want to enjoy this,” his nose was skimming against the skin of her back. “It’s not every day I have a naked lady lounging on my bed. In fact, I’ve never had one. Ever.”

“Yeah?” She turned around, covering her bare chest with his quilt as she looked at him. “What about your girlfriends?”

“What girlfriends?”

“You know, the ones you got together with in high school. You told me you had sex with them.”

“Oh.” His playful smile grew sheepish. “I lied about it.”

“What? Why?”

“I was just trying to make you jealous. You were hanging out with Jaemin and I was so pissed!”

“I can’t believe how lame you were.”

“Hey, I was desperate!”

“So…” She slowly said, drawing her name on the square of his chest with her fingertip. “I’m your first?”

“You’ve always been, on everything.”

Her breathing tattered, blood rushing to her face, turning it scarlet. She moved her hand to his neck, playing with the silver necklace and the oval locket with her fingers. “I can’t believe you still wear this.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he replied, leaning close until their foreheads meet one another. “From the best girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Stop saying things like this, I can’t handle it.” And she hooked her finger around his necklace, dragging him down to close the gap between them.

They both smiled into the kiss but what was once innocent and chaste, became deep and ardent in a matter of seconds. Donghyuck’s fingers were slipping underneath the comforter that she used to cover her body, feverish skin meeting her cold one and he looked at her in concern. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled awkwardly before it was replaced with a gasp when he pulled her up by her waist and positioned her on his lap. He snatched the quilt away from her in one quick motion, leaving her naked and exposed before she toppled down to his chest. His hands found their way back around her waist, drawing her close so every inch of her skin was pressing against his. His warmth began to seep into her, and he draped his blanket around their bodies again.

“Better?” He looked up, his teeth peeking behind his grin that was both teasing and shy at the same time.

She melted into his touch, wanting to taste his lips again. “Better.”

She was distracted with the way he ran his tongue along her lower lip, sneaking in as soon as she granted him entrance to her mouth, but found her focus back when his hands start to roam around her chest. She immediately covered herself with both hands, embarrassed out of her mind.

“Why are you covering yourself?” He asked, chuckling faintly though his cheeks were reddening by the second. “You were fine when we had sex before. Let me see.”

“I just remembered that you once said I have small boobs.”

Donghyuck’s jaw hung loosely on his face. “That—I was just joking! I love your boobs—I love every—” He thought hard for the right word and failing miserably. “—every aspect of them, how soft they are, the little moles you have, and how they jiggle when—Why are you laughing?!”

But she couldn’t stop cackling even when he was pouting about it, complaining that he was being serious. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear out of her eyes. “It’s just you were so dominatingly sexy before when you slammed me against the wall, and now you’re acting like such a dork, which is also cute but—” and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her fingers which he immediately took and replaced them with his mouth, turning her soft chuckles into pleading moans.

He cupped her breasts with his palms, groaning at the back of his throat from how perfect they felt under his hands, massaging them gently until she had to break away from the kiss, nibbling at her lip to contain her whimpers.

Donghyuck trailed more kisses down from her neck to the valley of her breasts, before he attached his soft, plump lips on her sensitive nub, making her arch her back in response. He peeked at her reaction from under his eyelashes, almost losing his mind from the sight of how alluring and sinful she looked. “Does it feel good?” He knew the answer but he needed her praise. He had waited for all this time to have her crying out his name in pleasure like this, he guessed he’d allow himself to be selfish just for tonight.

She shakily nodded, eyes tightly shut in pleasure but he didn’t stop until he had her whimpering, “Yes, yes,” into his ears.

“So about what you said before,” he continued, nipping at her sensitive skin with so much fervency, enough to leave purple bruises by the morning. “About me being dominatingly sexy. Is that the kind of thing you’re into?”

She shivered, looking like she wanted to escape his touch. “I—I don’t—” she stammered, having the hardest time finding her words especially when he had one of his eyebrows raised tauntingly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Guess being friends for seventeen years doesn’t really mean you know everything.” He chuckled, sliding down his hand between her thighs but stopping before he got too close, asking for permission. “Can I touch you here?”

She bit her lip, nodding slowly.

“Can we… have sex again?”

“Stop asking questions, and just do it.”

Their second time was much slower, more playful with a lot of teasing and exploring and it was the kind of sex that felt more like them, reminding them of how carefree they were back in their childhoods days, or the flirty banter they shared during their small escapes every summer. It took them hours to be satisfied with one another, at least until the next day started, that by the time they were finished, it was already nighttime. But even after they were dressed back in their previous clothes, they still found their way back in each other’s arms.

“I wasn’t sure to ask about this before but,” Donghyuck snuggled closer from behind, his lips almost brushing against her nape when he spoke in both curiosity and uncertainty. “How are things with Mark?”

“It’s so like you to ask about stuff that mattered after you got what you want,” she responded, making him pout and cower behind her. “We’re still going strong, actually. He said he’d ask me to marry him after we both graduated from college.”

He froze, literally stopped breathing. “What?”

“I’m kidding.” She turned around, tapping his cheek. “You’re cute.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” And when she laughed, he pouted even harder. “Well, truth is, we broke up over a month ago.”

“What—” Shock filling his eyes. He thought he had known everything about her from seeing her memories in his dreams but maybe he hadn’t seen anything yet. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms what with you avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He sighed, playfully biting her at the part where her neck met her shoulder. “Why did you break up with him anyway? I thought soulmates were meant to be together, not that I’m complaining though.” He couldn’t help but display his cheeky grin. “I’m actually happy—it’s the happiest moment in my life, dare I say.”

She scoffed, shifting on the bed again so she wouldn’t have to face his annoying grin. “It certainly not the happiest moment in my life but as long as you’re happy, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, come here.” Donghyuck sneaked his hands around her body, hauling her toward him until he could press his chest tightly against her back, burying his nose in her hair. “So, what happened?”

“Well…” She huffed, leaning against him. “Mark and I… We’re so similar in a lot of ways and I find myself more compatible with him than anyone, which feels kinda weird, if I’m being honest. Like, we share the same thoughts, we make the same decisions, we listen to the same music, love the same movies and everything. Unlike when I’m with you—” she stopped when she felt his arms tightening around her. “Wait, before you start fuming, listen to me first.” He sighed but nodded his head twice before he landed his face on her hair again. “What I meant was when I’m with you, we argue, we tease each other, we fight over stupid little things so we can look back on it in the future and have a good laugh from realizing how dumb we were being. And that’s what makes it exciting for me. You make me laugh, you make me upset, and when you suddenly disappeared from my life it was like…” she tried, but whether she was too shy or too confused to say the words, Donghyuck wasn’t sure so he helped.

“Like a part of you was missing?” He offered with a smile, nuzzling closer to her.

“Well, I don’t want to sound that cheesy but for the lack of better words, yes,” she admitted. “I just really couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you in the way I’ve never missed anyone before, like I kept seeing you anywhere I go. Whenever a Michael Jackson song came up in my playlist, I thought of you. Whenever I saw a movie, I remembered how you would always scrunch your nose in protest when something didn’t make sense. And I felt awful every time because I wasn’t supposed to think about you at all. I was supposed to think about Mark, and how he always tried to make me feel comfortable in his arms, kept asking me whether the room temperature was too cold or too hot, whether I needed another cup of coffee or—”

“He actually sounds pretty nice,” he murmured against her skin. “I’d date him if I were you.”

“Exactly, he’s too perfect.” She turned around, placing both hands on his shoulders. “He’s too perfect, Haechannie. That’s my problem.”

Haechan snorted but he also seemed amused. “This is why boys have problems trying to understand girls.”

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? You have so many flaws—like, so many. You have more flaws in you than your strengths.”

He flatly stared back. “Thanks.”

“But that’s what makes you interesting.” She reached out a hand, playing with the waves of his hair. “That’s what makes you adorable.” When she noticed him turning slightly red on his cheeks, she chuckled awkwardly. “Or maybe I’m just a freak who has a kink for annoying brats, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck smiled softly in return, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on the skin below her eye. “Well then, I’m glad you have a kink for annoying brats like me.” And when they kissed, he could feel her grinning against his lips so he tore himself away, frowning. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you were this sappy and clingy.” She giggled, pecking his nose. “You really love kissing, don’t you?”

“I love kissing you,” he corrected, slightly wincing at the thought of the previous kisses he’d shared with his former girlfriends. “There’s a difference. And I’m not sappy, I am full with affection.” She teased him with a loud, exaggerated yawn but he ignored her, focusing on the things that hadn’t been spoken. “So, you broke up with him because he was too nice? How did you even tell that to him?”

“No.” Her tone suddenly became heavy. “We broke up because he no longer had faith in me. It was not long after he read my journal.”

“What journal?”

“Okay, now, don’t laugh, but I’ve been keeping a journal lately to help me think and…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was flushed. “Well, figure things out. So I wrote a lot of things about you, about us, about how I truly felt about you but couldn’t be with you because of the things we’ve been through. And the fact that I’ve been dreaming about you—”

“What?” His breath hitched in his throat. “Like a soulmate dream or just your regular wet dream about me?”

It was vexing the way he sounded so serious when he asked her the most insensitive question at times like this. “It felt similar to how I dreamt about Mark which is weird because how can that be? What does that even mean? I can’t have two soulmates at once, can I?”

Donghyuck contemplated in silence, unsure of his thoughts but eventually made his decision. “Okay,” he shifted his weight, now sitting on the bed, and gesturing for her to meet his eyes. “I have a secret I’ve been wanting to tell you but since we weren’t on speaking terms—”

“Thanks to you—”

“—yeah, thanks to me. I decided to keep it a secret. And I realized that I didn’t want to tell you that because I wanted you to figure out by yourself that you have feelings for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having dreams about you too.” He unconsciously reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I saw your memories. I knew that they weren’t mine because I’ve dreamt about the time you spent with Jaemin and Mark, but I didn’t say anything because I want you to fall for me for who I am, not because I have connections to your dreams or because it turns out I’m your soulmate.”

She gaped in disbelief. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”

His voice grew quiet. “Since that night when we kissed.”

Her mouth was shaping into a silent ‘o’ but no words came out. She was deep in her thoughts and Donghyuck had to squeeze her hand to bring her out of her reverie. “Noona?”

“So it wasn’t just because of the kiss, was it? That morning when you were acting weird, asking me about my feelings?”

He nodded reluctantly. “I thought you were experiencing the same thing, but then you told me you had another dream about Mark, and not soon after, I saw him with my own eyes.”

Something befell on her face, eyes wide in realization. “So, it was true—what I saw in my dream. You’d met Mark way before I did but you never told me about him—you even told him to stay away—”

“Yes, but—” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know that was a total dick move, but—”

“You had no right, Hyuck.”

The way she called him by his real name made him freeze for a split second. “You’re… really upset about this, aren’t you?”

She tried not to scowl at him harder than she already did. With a sigh, she massaged her temple. “Well, I guess I should’ve seen that coming. You’ve always been acting like that anyway. You and your possessive, competitive ass.”

“But,” he said, smiling bashfully. “Will you love me and my possessive, competitive ass for the rest of your life?”

“One step at a time, Haechannie.” She pressed her palm against his face, wiping his annoying smirk away. “One step at a time.”

***

Unbeknownst to them, it turned out that being in an intimate relationship didn’t really change the way they behave around each other. They still fought over the little things but always agreed on the things that mattered. They shared loving words as much as they had done numerous times in the past, only this time they shared them between lustful gasps and lascivious groans.

Their long-distance relationship was hard during their years in college as they went to different campuses in different cities, but only because they couldn’t feel each other’s lips and breaths on their skins, so every time a long holiday came up, they would spend it somewhere where they could be alone, tangled in each other’s arms, moaning terms of endearments laced with desperation and urgency against the sheets.

It was funny how they kept having dreams about each other’s memories, even after they admitted their feelings out loud. Every morning whenever they were apart, they would send text messages, describing the memories they saw in their dreams, that it became some kind of a new habit for them. It was harmless most of the time, but Donghyuck became unreasonably jealous more often than not, whenever he saw Jaemin or Mark in her memories. He would spout out hateful words, calling their names with degradation, and she would sigh and wave him off, being the mature one in the relationship.

She had a theory about why he was dreaming about her, and why did her dreams change from Mark’s memories into his. She said it had something to do with their feelings, that if they loved someone so dearly, their dreams began to change from seeing the soulmate they were originally matched with, to the person they truly loved. And if the feelings were mutual, they would begin to dream about each other. Donghyuck didn’t pay too much attention to it, because it didn’t matter to him. Soulmates or not, dreams or no dream, he’d still love her with all his heart.

They kept their relationship a secret because they knew how their parents believed in soulmates and didn’t want to make them worry. But whenever they had sleepovers in his house, leaving their bedroom door open as instructed, keeping secrets became torture because Donghyuck always found a way to pepper playful kisses on her cheek. And playful kisses always turned perilous when they fell on her lips, and once the tip of their tongues met in curiosity, just wanted to get a glimpse of each other’s taste, there would be no turning back.

So they exchanged deep kisses and sinful strokes under the duvet, closing their eyes shut and pretending to sleep whenever rustling sounds or footsteps could be heard from the other side of their slightly ajar door. Donghyuck would whine something about, “Noona, I can’t do this. I can’t come like this,” even though he grew hotter and larger in her hand, and she would raise a teasing eyebrow with a smirk painting her face. She would then sneak under the sheet, crawl down his body, and blow hot breath against his tip, before engulfing him completely. And Donghyuck would bite into his fist, eyebrows furrowing in ecstasy, eyes shut closed as he imagined the way she would hollow her cheeks around him, with her tongue running along his veins and he would come undone in seconds. “Already?” She would ask with a teasing grin, wiping her tainted mouth with the back of her hand. “I must be super good at this.”

Donghyuck would let her win, just for the night. He could always pay her back the next day, he figured, when his parents were still deep in slumber, and the sun was still hiding somewhere out of sight. He knew how much she loved seeing him between her legs, with his eyes half-lidded and his lips sucking bruises on the inner parts of her thighs. And he loved seeing her face contorted in pleasure every time he brought her tongue deep inside her, remembering her taste better than anything he had ever tasted. Whenever her body started to shake, hands tangling desperately against his locks, her legs closing in on him, he would lick everything that seeped out of her, glance up to meet her eyes, and lick his lower lip in satisfaction before he said, “Already? I must be super good at this.”

“You know,” she sighed one day when she curled against his chest in a hotel room that smelled like cinnamon mixed with sandalwood. “I’ll probably end up getting pregnant with Hyuck Jr from how often we have sex.”

“I don’t mind.” He laced their fingers together, tracing his tongue on the side of her neck before he marked her with his teeth. “Hyuck Jr sounds hella cool.”

“Of course, you don’t mind. You say that to get more sex.” She wiggled away, shoving him gently by the jaw. “Stop that, I have work today.” And as much as he wanted to ignore her, painting more of his signature down her body so everyone would know who owned her, he stopped with a pout because she could really be terrifying when she got angry.

“Noona~ Come back to bed,” he whined, as he watched her stepped down the bed, getting dressed. “I need you to love me again. I’m needy.”

“You are gross, and I am late. Where the hell is my bra?”

Donghyuck grinned in amusement, watching her running from one corner to another only in her panties. “Man, have I told you how much I love your boobs?”

“Stop staring and help me find my clothes!”

She soon collected every piece of her clothing back without his help as he just kept lazing around on the bed, giggling every time she tripped over something.

“Noona.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought about being this intimate with me back then?” Donghyuck flipped over to his stomach, crossing his arms idly on top of his pillow before he dipped his chin between them. “Before we got together. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Her cheeks were flushed. “W-what kind of question is—”

“I need to know whether you were as crazy as I was about you.” His smile was both teasing and gentle. “Please?”

“Fine.” She eventually succumbed with a sigh. “Remember back then when you said you were going on a date with that girl you’d been seeing for two weeks? Not sure why, but when I thought about you kissing her, I was also thinking about you kissing me.”

“You did?” He gaped, mouth wide open. “Way back then? And you still went out with those douchebags instead of being with me?” He protested, sinking his face in his pillow as he muffled his whine. “Noonaaaa~”

“It was just a fleeting thought! It wasn’t anything that serious.” She put on her stockings, having the hardest time focusing from all the embarrassment she had to endure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, now that I know you’ve been thinking about me that way for quite some time, what kind of things did you imagine us doing?” And when he didn’t answer right away, lost for words, she added with a sly smirk. “Don’t tell me you jacked off while thinking about me.”

He was good at controlling his expressions, but his ears betrayed him right away from how red they were turning. “No comment,” he muttered, sinking half of his face into his pillow.

She rolled her eyes, snorting. “Well, that’s fair.”

“What about the future? Have you ever thought about our future together?” The sudden question made her gaze back at him. “What do you see happening to us in ten years?”

She was fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, but her mind drifted somewhere else. She had thought about it. Thought about growing old with him. Thought about them getting married, have a child—or maybe three. Thought about how nervous and panicky he would get when her water broke, and how whiny he would be whenever she asked him to do house chores but ended up doing everything perfectly. She had thought about how cute he’d look as a father, telling a little boy—who looked exactly like him—during his first try at riding a bicycle that it’s okay to cry if it hurts when you fall because daddy is going to hug you and make the pain go away, okay?

She had thought about it, more often than not, but he had just graduated from college and she was in her first year working as an intern in a high-tech company. They still had a lot of things going on in their lives. Maybe he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Maybe he needed time.

“Babe?” He called. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yes, please.”

“I see you growing bald from all of those hair products you use.”

“Why you little—”

***

“What’s this?” She questioned as he slid a little black box with a red bow wrapped around it—a spitting image of the gift she had presented to him a few years back—into her hand. She remembered the joke he made that night, so she mirrored his action, faking a gasp while squealing, “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

He laughed, a bit bashful and awkward, but he understood her joke. “But wait, if you’re seriously carrying my child, I will hate you for the rest of my life for breaking the news like this.”

“I’m not, calm down.” She chuckled, and they walked next to each other again, enjoying how peaceful the Han River was at night, with cherry blossoms petals dancing in the wind.

“Are you cold?” He asked though she was already wearing multi-layered clothes.

“What, are you gonna wrap your coat around me?”

“Nah, just asking. I’m more sensitive to cold than you anyway.”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes before she focused back on the tiny present. “What is this for? Our anniversary is still a month away.”

“Just shut up and open it.” He sniffed from the cold, tucking his hands deeper inside his coat. “And hurry up. I’m freezing. I need you to warm me up.”

“I swear to God, can’t you at least be romantic for five minutes?”

“Okay, five minutes. After that, we’ll run back home and have hot, dirty sex.”

She scowled at him which he returned wholeheartedly with a playful kiss on her cheek. She opened the box and smiled when she saw a similar oval locket necklace that matched the one he wore around his neck. “You’re so predictable,” she sneered, taking the necklace in her hand. “But I love it.”

“You haven’t seen what’s inside.” He whispered close in her ear. “I’ll give you a little spoiler. It’s not a picture of us taking a bath together when we were kids but it’s something similar.”

“Ah, I get it. Is it the time when we—” But her sentence ended abruptly in silence at the sight of the words that were engraved on the silver plate.

Will you marry me?

“Haechannie—” And as she turned around to face him, he already had one knee on the ground, taking her hand in his and she could feel shivers running through his fingertips. The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated his face most beautifully, with his bangs fluttering softly under the wind. His chocolate brown eyes were so gentle, so loving, so shy, matching the way his cheeks were reddening with more seconds passing by. When he pronounced her name, it felt like he was casting spells on her, bewitching her with his smile, his voice, his scent, his everything.

“Okay, so I’ve written a whole speech—like, a whole speech,” he repeated, emphasizing with a deeper voice. “And it would probably take me a good half an hour to recite it to you and I don’t think either of us wants to stand here for even a minute longer, so if you can just say yes now, I’ll do the speech later when we’re warm and cozy and naked in our bed.”

She was prepared to cry in joy but she ended up crying from the hilarity of it all. “What the hell was that? Haechannie—”

“I’m serious, Noona, a whole speech!” His teeth were beginning to chatter. “Trust me! Can you just accept my stupid proposal now so we can go home?”

“What is this, a blackmail?”

“Noona~”

She hauled him up to his feet again with both hands. “Well then, let’s go home,” she said, sinking their intertwined hands in her coat’s pocket before she tugged him forward. “If you amaze me with that whole speech of yours, then I’ll say yes.”

Donghyuck grinned. “You got it.”

He kept his promise from the beginning to the end. As they stepped into the little apartment they had been sharing in secret for the last few months, Donghyuck had her pressed against the wall, kicking the front door closed with one foot, before he moved it to slide his knee between her thighs, giving her the friction she needed. Clothes were soon scattered on the floor as they walked and tripped their way to the bedroom, silently shouting gratitudes to the heater that kept the place warm while they were gone.

“So,” she breathed against his mouth, pressing her bare chest to his slightly colder one. “Your speech. Go.”

“In a minute,” he said, smirking as he gestured her to sit on the edge of the bed. When she followed, he kneeled in front of her, spread her legs apart, and licked his lower lip as he stared at her arousal. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, saying, “I have my priorities and this. comes. first,” and he dipped his head low, hot tongue pressing against her most sensitive part, forcing her to chant his name like a prayer.

But when their feet were tangled around one another on the bed, her hands buried deep in his hair while he raked his fingernails down her spine, Donghyuck murmured the things she didn’t realize she needed to hear. He reminded her of the precious memories they had shared, of the feelings they had even back then when they were too young to understand love, of his promises to make her happy—to make her feel complete and infinite until the end of her days—and of his cute, little fantasies of how the future was going to be for the two of them and their future children.

And as he pounded into her, with hard, deep thrusts, hips moving faster and faster each time she moaned against his ear, driving him to the edge of his sanity, he demanded her to say her answer to his proposal. With pleasure clouding her mind, she could no longer think about any word other than yes.  

***

“It has a private pool and a jacuzzi, you’ll love it, babe, trust me,” Donghyuck said into his phone, grinning to himself every time he heard a giggle coming from the other line. “I know I said no surprises this time, but I made the reservation like a month ago so you can’t really blame me for it.”

He silently thanked the florist who handed him a bouquet of red roses before he exited the store and head back to his car. He placed the flowers on the passenger seat next to him, along with two little custom-made alpaca plushies wearing wedding attires, and a tiny white box with a pair of engagement rings inside.

“Look, we’re celebrating your birthday in that resort whether you like it or not,” he said, looking like he was about to burst into laughter in a matter of seconds from hearing her adorable complaints. “It’s not that expensive, I swear! And even if it is, I’m completely fine with using my three months' worth of salary to please my girlfriend.” There was a loud shouting on the other side of the line, and he chuckled, “I’m kidding, Noona. Look, I’m heading to your workplace. I’ll see you in half an hour, okay?” His gaze softened. “Me too. I love you too. Bye.”

When the line got disconnected, Donghyuck leaned against the back of his seat, huffing to the air, his heart banging loud against his chest. The first proposal was all fun and games, but this time, he was serious about it. He had prepared everything, dressed sharply in a black suit and a white buttoned-up shirt, and memorized his lines by heart from practicing it over a hundred times in front of his bathroom mirror a few hours ago. He had taken a day off to make sure everything went perfectly, but now as he seated behind the wheels, about to see her face and the bright, beautiful smile she always threw at him whenever he graced her with his presence, he became so nervous, so afraid of ruining his plan.

A text message arrived, interrupting his thoughts.

There’s a birthday gift on my desk under your name. My co-workers are getting jealous. Why are you so perfect?

And before he could reply, another one came by.

I love you, Haechannie.

All of his concerns began to dissipate from his chest. It would be okay if he ruined one thing or two while undergoing his plan. She would forgive him with a smile. She always did. She had always accepted him the way he was.

So he texted her back.

There’s no life without you, Noona.

And that was the truth. He had only truly lived because of her.

He placed his phone on the dashboard of his car, wore back his seatbelt, and started the engine. His thoughts were so full of her as much as his heart was, that a smile began to grow permanent on his face. Even as he began to drive, he still had the hardest time focusing on everything else but her.

It was until a truck passed at high speed, smashed his car from the side with a loud, thunderous bang, sending tremors of pain all over his body before his thoughts could process the details.

And suddenly, what was once vibrant with a spectrum of colors, his world turned monochromatic once again.

***

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #haechan smut #haechan fluff #nct #nct dream #nct u #haechan nct #haechan blurbs #haechan fic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #haechan timestamps #nct timestamps #haechan fanfic #nct fanfic #mine #sundaysundaes

[mysteriesgalplusdamianthings]

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

#damian wayne #damimaps #gotham academy #dc comics #fanfiction #batman #batfamily #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #maps mizoguchi #damian x maps #smut

[claymorecut]

YOU KNOW IT’S TRUE LOVE WHEN YOU CAN’T STOP LOVING YOUR WIFE EVEN WHEN SHE GROWS A PAIR OF KINTAMA

A GinTsu fanfic

Word Count: 8072

A/N: This fic is long. And messy. And I wanted to write this for a really long time. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

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

‘Huh? When did I get here..?’

Standing under the scorching afternoon sun, this is the first thought that crosses the silver-haired samurai’s mind. The familiar crossroad bustled with people as Gintoki scrunches his eyes and shields them from the blinding sunlight. Not long ago was he lying on his precious couch in his cozy little apartment, so how come is he now standing on the middle of Yoshiwara? Oh yes, he was already on his way to pay his busy wifey a visit.

‘Must be the heat, I might’ve lost track of when I reached here.’ Rubbing his eyes which seems to itch a little, the man decided to make his way towards the infamous tea-house. It has been months since he last visited Yoshiwara but the true reason he’s here today is because he wants to see his wife. For the last few weeks, Tsukuyo has been coming home late due to work and to his disappointment - and sure enough, hers as well - they hardly get the chance to spend time together.

Of course, like always, Gintoki stays the same, good, supportive husband who doesn’t constantly nag his wife about her workaholic nature and busy schedule but right now, perhaps, he has started to feel a little lonely. And as cheesy as it sounds in his thirty-five years old mind, Gintoki really misses her. Not just the sex or the long, passionate kisses, but he really misses spending quality time with her. Seriously, when was the last time the two sat down and read their favorite manga series together? More importantly, their second anniversary is only a few dates away and this time, he wants to surprise her with something special. Something that can help the Tsukuyo take a break from her job and relax.

The former city of night appears as same as ever with people busy with their daily work. A few Hyakka members patrolled the streets, in case of any transgression. However, far away in front of another tea house, Gintoki catches a small crowd of woman swarming a large, tanned man, most likely flirting with him while he seems to be going along with them playful pokes and giggles. Due to his back facing him, he can’t get a clear look on the unfamiliar man except for his wide back and blond hair which perfectly contrasted his bronze skin. No wonder so many women were flocking around him, he appears to be quite a good-looking man.

“Oh Gin-san, how have you been?” The delighted owner of the tea house was greets him as he walks inside.

“Usual, I guess.” The man simply replied and takes a seat on one of the benches, facing her. “I just saw this guy outside. You guys hired a new bodyguard?”

At his curious question, Hinowa gives him a confused look. “No. We haven’t had new recruits for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

“So, Gin-san.” Hinowa asks, changing the subject. “What brings you here?”

While Hinowa gives him her signature smile, Gintoki finds the situation quite odd. Wouldn’t a teasing “Here to see Tsukuyo~” with her playful smirk have made more sense?

‘Perhaps, she’s gotten used to it.’ His mind reasoned back as he brushed off the thought.

“Uh…well, I was basically here to meet Tsukuyo but I was thinking of taking her on a trip for our anniversary.” Looking down, he nervously rubs the back of his neck. He may have been a married man now but even still, showing his rather romantic side of his in front of anyone except Tsukuyo makes him a little…flustered.

“You know how she is with her ‘I don’t want anythin’’ and stuff. That woman has been working constantly for ages and she really needs to get some rest! I never thought choosing a gift for a woman would be this tough, let alone surprising her but it’s her we’re talking about after all….So, I thought maybe you can suggest me something.”

After finishing up his chattering, Gintoki looks back up at her with a flushed face, only to find Hinowa confusedly blinking at him. “…Eh? Anniversary?”

The man knits his brows. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

“Forgot what?”

“My and Tsukuyo’s anniversary.”

“But when did you get marri-“

“What’s goin’ on?” A deep and surprisingly familiar voice came from behind the silver-haired man.

“Oh, Tsukuo. Did you know Gin-san got married? He just told me.”

“What? When?”

“I don’t know…maybe he’s talking about someone else…”

This casual exchange of words sounded strange. But what sounded stranger is the name of the man who is talking with Hinowa. Who is now standing right beside him. Perplexed at this sudden change of events, Gintoki slowly turns to his side to find the very same tanned and muscular man he has seen before entering the tea house standing who now looked at him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yo, Mr. Husband. Did ya forget to invite us or what?” The man named Tsukuo teases him.

And Gintoki felt all the blood drain off his face.

He knew something was off. Really off. And as he got the closer look of the man’s face, the more he finds himself horrified. “W-who are you?”

The large man quirked one of his brows and then looks back at Hinowa, directing his thumb at Gintoki. “Is he okay?”

“He looked fine before. Gin-san, you look pale. Are you okay?”

No. No, he isn’t. Because this doesn’t look right. And no matter how much he tries, his brain has now failed to process the entire situation as Gintoki finds his eyes fixated at the buff man who looks shockingly familiar. Blond hair, violet eyes, the familiar black kimono decorated with autumn leaves and the infamous scar that he has gotten accustomed to kissing - Gintoki has been seeing all these features for years now.

In his wife.

Pointing a shaky finger at the large man, Gintoki felt his voice turn into a mere, almost squeaky, whimper “Hinowa-san….what happened to my Tsukuyo?” He could no longer contain the shock and disbelief in his voice. No way is this happening!

“Tsukuyo?” At this, the raven-haired woman looks puzzled. “But that’s Tsukuo.”

“I-I know..but…did some strange light fell from the sky and changed her sex? Like how it happened last time in the Dekobokko arc?” Each syllable he stutters makes his heart race a little faster. “What happened to Tsukuyo?”

“….Gin-san, what’re talking about? There’s no one named Tsukuyo here.”

His mouth falls agape. “Hinowa-san, please don’t joke like this.”

“But….I’m not joking, Gin-san….”

“Then…you’re saying my wife…is now…a man..?”

Suddenly he feels a large hand on his shoulder, probing him to look at the other direction which he was so badly trying to avoid. “Are ya outta your mind, ya bastard?” His said wife says up loudly, sounding quite offended by his genuine question. “I’ve always been a man.”

.

..

…

‘WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?’

*****

“Of course Tsukuo-dono has always been a man.”

“Who doesn’t know about the King of Night in Edo, Danna?”

“Gin-san~ Why are you suddenly so interested in that bastard when I’m right here~”

“Oi, Sarutobi. I’m right here - By the way, why’re you asking around if Tsukuo has always been a guy or not? Did you lose your memories or something?”

Nobody remembers. Nobody.

For the last three hours, Gintoki has been running around the city of Edo after dashing out of Yoshiwara, just so he can find out whether the unearthly Dekobokko cultist have made their comeback or not.  Unfortunately, nothing of that sort has happened. In fact, after asking Kyubei, Saachan and the Shinsengumi who once turned into the opposite gender knows nothing this uncanny event of his wife turning into the male version of her. Actually, his wife never swapped genders even when they did.

And every time he frantically asked the same damn question, their responses also stayed the same - “But Tsukuo has always been a man. We don’t know anyone named Tsukuyo.”

The statement itself is like a tight slap on his face. But what hurts more is that she is no longer here. Nobody remembers their marriage and…nobody remembers her.

His ring is gone.

All the wedding pictures and albums he once had in their little house are all missing.

And now that he looks at the empty shelf where they once had a beautiful framed picture of them kissing on their wedding day, Gintoki slumps down on the floor as he ponders about this absurdity he is currently in. Wasn’t it just this morning when he saw his wife leave for work before giving him a quick peck on his lips? Wasn’t it just a few hours ago when was planning to surprise his wife on their second anniversary? But now it feels like he is in a completely different world. And suddenly he is back to the same ol’ single and unmarried Sakata Gintoki who no longer has the amazing badass blond bombshell of a wife by his side.

In this sorry state, Gintoki recalls a memory from the morning where his favorite weather girl, Ketsuno Ana was announcing today’s horoscope predictions.

“For Libras, today, you may find yourself in an uncanny situation. Perhaps, your love life will be tested today under very confusing conditions but let me tell you, do not give up hope. As long as you believe in yourself and your partner, everything will turn out just fine.” The woman gave a bright smile from behind the screen as he flicked the TV off.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” The utterly confused and enraged man yelled at the ceiling without paying any attention to what his neighbors are going to think. Confusing!? No, this is a hellish situation! “OI WRITER! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET ME LIVE AS A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN!?”

Even breaking the fourth wall didn’t work. Finding himself alone in the bland living room, Gintoki hopelessly looks down on the floor and then at his empty left ring finger, gently rubbing it. He is not a sappy man, never has been, but truthfully, the empty finger does not suit him anymore.

The day he found out Tsukuyo had been in love with him throughout the runtime of the series was the day realized how much of lucky bastard he has been to have someone like her in his life. Idiot he might have been for not acting on his feeling but the day he took his vows was day he promised he will not let go of her. Ever.

‘Then why the hell is this going on…?’

A knock on his door interrupts Gintoki and he lets out a heavy sigh. If it was any other day, he would definitely have answered the door. But right now, ignoring it seems like a better option. Must be the baba is what he thinks and then stands up from his place to go look for some strawberry milk in the fridge. Maybe that can help him cool down…even just a little. Another two knocks, this time louder, tries to get his attention but he chooses not to respond again. No way is he in the mood to have a chat with someone.

“Oi Gintoki! I know you’re in there!” A voice calls out for him. A very familiar voice that he just wants to…avoid right now.

However, his mission fails instantly when another knock comes in, making him rub his already throbbing temple.

Groaning, Gintoki turns the other way to greet the unwanted guest in his house. Well, technically that was her- oh sorry, his house too, but according to the current situation, calling him a guest seems more appropriate. Sliding the main door open - and deep down, wishing it’s Tsukuyo standing there – he finds the male version of his wife nonchalantly smoking from the signature kiseru with his muscular arms folded under his well-toned chest. His blond hair is now tied in a small ponytail and damn, he is a few inches taller than him.

“Why did ya run away like that?” Tsukuo asks, putting down his kiseru. And while he refuses to admit, Gintoki can clearly hear the concern in his voice which seems so…familiar. But this isn’t her.

“Just had something to do.” Shrugging, Gintoki tiredly looks at the man. “I don’t know what I was saying, sorry about that.” He lies, really not in the mood to explain whatever this is. And possibly, this man will not believe him.

“Okaaay.” Tsukuo trails off, confused at his dismissive behavior. “You okay now? You seemed a little off back in Yoshiwara.”

Oh, can he just stop resembling her so much!?

“Yeah. Can you just leave me alone? I’m gonna get some sleep now, my head hurts” He knows he is being an ass but this is for the better. Tiredly, he slides the door close only to find a tight grip on the doorframe and shoves it open again.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Tsukuo asks, slightly annoyed as he bends a little forward to look into the silver-haired man’s eyes. “First you act like you’ve seen a ghost and now you’re actin’ like an asshole?”

Hearing this, a vain pops in his head. He really can’t catch a break, can he? First, he sees his wife turn into this extremely handsome and muscular man who has lost all memories of their marriage and now, he’s supposed to explain why he is acting like this like a madman!?

“So, how else am I supposed to act, huh!? Act like everything’s normal when it’s actually NOT!?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” Tsukuo snaps back, confused at his sudden outburst. “Isn’t this normal, you moron!?”

“Oh yeah!?” Gintoki grits his teeth, feeling fumes coming out of his ears. “Maybe it would have if my married life hadn’t been suddenly erased from existence!”

“And when the hell did you get married!?”

“ ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO ON 21ST JUNE, AT THE END OF SPRING!” Gintoki screams out, making the passerbys look above at the two men who are now engaged in a heated argument.

“What the-!?”

Scoffing loudly, Gintoki throws his hands up in the air in utter defeat. “See! This is what I’m talking about! A few hours ago, I was a happily married man, planning to surprise my wifey for our second marriage anniversary and suddenly, I see everything is gone! Poof! Vanished in thin air like it NEVER existed!! And the worst part- nobody remembers my marriage, NOT EVEN YOU!”

Tsukuo only returns him another puzzled look. “And how the hell would I remember that!?”

“Because you’re the one I’m married to, damn it!” Frustrated, Gintoki jabs his pointer at the man’s well-built chest, only to realize what just he said and immediately rephrases his statement to, “Or should  I say the female version of you.” and awkwardly pulls back his hand. “And now, suddenly she looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger and I’ve no fucking idea how or when it happened! I don’t even have any evidence to prove myself in this…this crazy situation and damn it, this all sounds so ridiculous!”

Silence follows and the two men stare at each other, one giving an extremely baffled look while the other groans in embarrassment. This is not going anywhere.

Covering his face his hands, Gintoki breaths out a long, exhausted sigh. “Listen, I think I need to clear my head. Can you just…go?”

The man doesn’t reply for another few seconds. Perhaps, he’ll just leave him alone now.

“….I’m not going anywhere.”

Gintoki’s ears perk up. Did he really just..?

“And I think it’s better if we talk properly.”

Finally, he looks back at the man’s earnest face. “Eh?”

“Let’s get outside.” His said wife suggests and turns to walk down the stairs. “I think you should tell me what exactly happened. Maybe that can help you clear your head.”

“You believe me?” Gintoki calls out, baffled at how serious he sounds.

“Not completely.” Tsukuo looks back as he steps down the last stair. “But I do know you’re not lying.”

*****

Tsukuo is popular, just like his wife. Very popular.

But fun fact, unlike Tsukuyo, who makes every other lecher look the other way with her intimidating glares, Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind all these flirtatious wink and compliments that keeps coming at him from the opposite gender.

“You seem to have quite a huge fanbase in Edo.” Gintoki inquires. The two has been walking down the streets of Kabukichou for quite a few minutes now and the extra attention the tanned man keeps garnering is making the silver-haired samurai a little distressed.

“Well, can you blame them?” Tsukuo looks at him, smirking proudly.

“No.” Gintoki shrugs, glancing at another group of women eying Tsukuo, who literally has the body and face of a Greek god. “But I never thought you’d enjoy so much attention.”

“I don’t exactly.” The man casually replies. “But when someone wants to talk and spend time with me, I can’t just say no to them.”

“And you just said the typical playboy line. How convenient.” Gintoki mumbles, not audible enough for the man beside him to hear. He remembers the first time when he met this version of Tsukuyo back in chapter 441 in the Dekkobokko arc. To watch the serious, tsundere woman suddenly turn into a player who shamelessly flirted with his female version was such a shocker.

“Flowers have no beauty nor ugliness. If such a thing does exist, then it’s in the looks of a man that cannot admire both equally.”

“HEY, WHO IS THIS GUY!? A VIRGIN WOMAN SUDDENLY TURNED INTO A PLAYER!!!”

Gintoki lets out a sigh. Even though back then such a thing happened, the situation was, more or less, temporary. Tsukuyo’s sudden personality change was only limited to that one arc. However, from what he has come to understand here, this Tsukuo has always been…Tsukuo. Sneaking a glance at the man, he again finds him smile at another woman on the sideways who flushes bright red and shyly hides her face behind her palms.

‘Yup, this is not Tsukuyo…’

After another few minutes of silence, Tsukuo asks. “So, you were saying I’m your wife?”

“No. I’m saying my wife got replaced by you.” Gintoki replies bluntly.

Unnoticed, the man rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Do you remember what exactly happened?”

“What do you mean what exactly happened? I was on my way to meet my wife, but then I see you and suddenly everybody has forgotten about Tsukuyo and our marriage.”

“Yeah, you already said that. But I’m asking did something happen when you were on your way?”

Gintoki knits his eyebrows. “…Huh?”

“Did you meet any…shady fortune teller on your way?” Tsukuo inquires seriously, glancing at him.

“Umm..nope.” Comes his honest answer.

“Then did you inhale or drink something strange before?”

“Nooo….”

“Then what about the headaches you were getting?”

“Most probably because of stress. What about it?”

Tsukuo shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it’s some sort of a side-effect of some ‘magic spell’ you’ve been put into?”

“This doesn’t make any sense, you know.” Gintoki scowls at his absurd speculations.

“Well, this is Gintama. Remember when the animation staff decided to freeze you for an entire episode due to budget issues?” Tsukuo points casually.

“Yeah, I do remember tha-“

“Plus, this is a poorly written fanfi-“

“Please don’t mention the obvious to our readers so casually. It can ruin their reading experience.”

Tsukuo sighs. “So, nothing out of ordinary happened?”

“No.” Except for his horoscope coming true which he cannot tell him.

“Tsk. That’s a very cheap way to move the plot though.”

“Would you stop being fussy about the plot already?”

“I was just pointing out the errors.” Tsukuo says as a matter of fact.

“You’re starting to sound like Onishi-kun now.”

Tsukuo grumbles. “Fine, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Even like this, the nitpicky and logical side of her is still clearly there. And a part of him feels happy that it is there. As the two continue to stroll around the streets of Edo, Gintoki finds his lips curl upward for the first time in the last few hours, unaware of the blond man looking at him with him own small smile.

*****

The afternoon heat is now replaced by the breezy evening evening as the two make their way to a public park.  Gintoki has no idea why they are still hanging out together. Or why Tsukuo still hasn’t left for work? Or why they are suddenly in a park and why does it feel like a date? Well, obviously he does not mind spending time with him – it’s actually quite refreshing – but still, Tsukuyo has always been a busy woman, a workaholic who doesn’t leave her duties behind, so, shouldn’t Tsukuo be like that too?

“Why’re we here?” Gintoki asks as he watches Tsukuo taking a seat on a nearby bench and stretches out.

Tsukuo, to his question, gives him a blank stare. “Because I’m tired of walking.”

“You aren’t even wearing any heels!” Gintoki frowns, pointing at his zori. “Tsukuyo can jump twenty buildings on her four-inch heeled leather boots and won’t even beat a sweat.”

Listening to his sudden proud comment about his wife, Tsukuo gives an amused smile. “Oh, that sounds interesting. That’s what I expect from the female me.” He gives himself a few pats on his shoulders.

Gintoki scoffs at his prideful gesture. “You’ve no idea how she’s like.”

Scooting a little to the side, Tsukuo taps on the empty seat right to him. “Wanna tell me how she’s like then?”

There is a moment of silence between the two before Gintoki walks towards the bench. “Oh, she’s just…amazing.” Taking a seat beside him, he grins widely, suddenly at a loss of words to describe his wife. “Sometimes even I end up thinking how I landed a woman like her.”

“You sound like a love-sick puppy.” Tsukuo chortles lightly.

“Well, I am a lucky man.” Gintoki shrugs, surprisingly unabashed by Tsukuo’s previous remark. There is a familiar sense of security in his company even though the man is the very much different from the woman he has fallen for.

“Well, you did marry me. Of course, that makes you a lucky man.”

His cocky response made Gintoki scoff in dismay. The moment he was starting to think they were a little alike, Tsukuo once again made him rethink his words.

“I didn’t marry a smug bastard. She’s the complete opposite of you.” Gintoki proudly replies, ready to explain his point. “Beautiful, serious, workaholic and definitely not a flirt - that woman can kill a lecher just by looking at him her venomous stare. And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu in Yoshiwara. Well, formally, but you get how scary she is by that name. Hell, even I once became a victim of her wrath for ‘accidentally’ groping her before we started going out. Fortunately, she didn’t kill me then….”

Memories of the time flash in his mind as a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Actually, it was my fault so I really can’t blame her….There’s always been so much more. She’s always been so strong and kind and…so different from me. Someone that I thought a broke man like me could never have. But she still stayed…right there with me….That’s what made me fall for her.”

“…You really love talking about her, don’t you?” Tsukuo asks, smiling at the man.

Gintoki sighs, smirking proudly. “Boasting about my wife once in a while isn’t bad.”

Soon, silence falls between them. Without having any idea of the kind of face the man sitting beside him is making, Gintoki lets his eyes stay fixated on the bushes right across their seat. For some reason, he has been rambling quite a lot today. Was he always this chatty? No, as far as he can remember, he was not. Probably, it’s the heavy feeling in his chest that’s making him so talkative.

“…and, who proposed first?” Tsukuo first breaks the silence.

This catches the silver-haired samurai’s attention.

“Of course, I did.” Gintoki replies, turning to see the man giving him a shocked look that made his eye twitch. “Oi, don’t gimme that look! I saved for the ring!”

At this, Tsukuo gives him an impressed smile. “Who’d have thought, Sakata Gintoki would become such a hopeless romantic for his precious wife?”

This time, the playfulness in his voice makes Gintoki grunt in embarrassment but he chooses to answer anyway. “For her, it’s worth it.”

“Umm-hmm. But I’m pretty sure she made most of payment during the wedding.” Tsukuo cleverly remarks.

Gintoki sighs, nodding in agreement. “Yes. Yes, she did.”

Sneaking a glance at the blond man, Gintoki finds the blond blankly gazing up at the sky, a small smile adoring his lips as he closes his eyes and breathes heavily. Albeit all the striking differences, he couldn’t help but find a sense of secrecy surrounding him, much like her. And right now, his serene expression reminds him of the way she would sometimes get lost in her thoughts.

“Missing her?” Tsukuo asks after a moment of silence.

Upon hearing the question, Gintoki sadly smiles. “Of course…Plus, we haven’t been spending much time together recently because of her work so….yeah.”

“…you still don’t know what’s going on?”

“Nope. But my horoscope did say it’s gonna be a strange day.” Gintoki confesses as a dry laugh escapes his lips. However, Tsukuo doesn’t inquire him any further.

Suddenly, a sense of uneasiness envelops Gintoki. He quietly watches the kids run back to their homes while the sky now appears to be painted in a deep shade of orange, the sun slowly disappearing in the broad horizon. It is strange how everything seems so normal to everyone but him; everything here feels like a strange dream he is unable to wake up from.

For the last few hours, being in Tsukuo’s company didn’t make him feel lonely in any manner. No matter how different he is here, there is a sense of peace in with him.

However, this is not his reality. This is not the place he belongs to. And this person, at the end, does not have any feelings for him.

“I think I should go back.” Standing up from his seat, Gintoki decides to take his leave. A part of him fears if he stays any longer, he would forever remain stuck here.

As he walks away, Tsukuo call out to him. “Oi, where are you going?”

Gintoki can hear his footsteps now. “Home. And I’m hungry.” He replies without turning back.

This still doesn’t stop the man from following him. “How about you come with me to Yoshiwara? It’s better than staying up like some loner in your little house.”

This time, Gintoki turns around, skeptically looking at him. “Don’t you have work?”

“Nope.” Tsukuo shrugs and walks to him. “Hinowa told me to take the day off.”

Well, that kinda hurt. He didn’t even come on his own accord, that’s how bland their relationship seems now.

“Well. You’re free to return back to work, then.” Gintoki waves his hand dismissively, ready to leave again.

“There’s a new izakaya.” His immediate response stops Gintoki on his tracks as he hears his stomach growl hungrily. “My treat.”

*****

By the time the two reached Yoshiwara, it has already turned dark outside as the full moon shone brightly above, illuminating the night sky. The streets appear busier than it was during the afternoon as the two make their way to. But before that, Gintoki gets to hear all the Tsukuo fangirls welcoming him back to Yoshiwara after his oh so long, tiresome day. Damn, nobody even bats an eye on the Savior of Yoshiwara anymore.

“Tsukuo-sama, how about you spend your night with me?”

“There’s a new kimono I received, I’d love~ to show it to you~”

“But I wanted to serve you sake and enjoy watching the full moon with you~”

Damn it, he hated how Tsukuo is like a chic magnet. Yes, the man is handsome and of course, he cannot blame the ladies for being smitten over him but he has been seeing since the afternoon and now all these flirty gestures are starting to get on his nerves. First, he brings him here – basically bribes him with free food - and then, pulls off this shit!

Picking up his pace, Gintoki makes his way through the crowd, leaving Tsukuo behind. If that blondie is going to take his sweet time with his precious ladies, he might as well search for this new bar and get something to eat all by himself.

“Oh Gin-san!” A familiar voice call for him. His mind was so delved into Tsukuo’s apparent bachelor life that he forgot to notice he was passing by the teahouse. “Are you doing okay? ” Hinowa asks sweetly, walking towards him.

“Um…yeah. I’m-I’m fine. That was- I was asking those questions f-for a friend of mine. Sorry for leaving like that.” Gintoki nervously chuckles, scratching his head. It’s better if he just stay quite instead of bombarding her with another set of ridiculous questions like before.

“I see. That’s good to hear. I was worried.” The rave-haired woman politely smiles.

“Um, yeah. Tsukuo mentioned.” There is a hint of disappointment in his voice as his eyes fall on the dusty street. “But you didn’t need to tell him to take day off for me.”

“Oh, but he was way more worried than me. At first, he just simply went back to work when you left. But I could tell how much he was worried.” Hinowa instantly replies, catching Gintoki’s attention. “You know how that man is. Always working and acting like he doesn’t care when he actually does.”

Baffled, Gintoki looks back up to find the woman giving him her signature smile. “You mean-”

“AHHH HINOWA!” The loud voice quickly interrupts their little chat as Gintoki finds a heavy arm casually crash around his shoulders, making the poor man wince. “I’m treating this dude for dinner at Sato-san’s place.” Tsukuo fakes an excited grin.

Not noticing the slight blush on Tsukuo’s face in the dim light, Hinowa beams excitedly. “Oh, that’s great! Their bar is right around the corner. You must taste their kushiyaki, Gin-san -- Tsukuo, don’t forget!”

“Yes ma’am!” Tsukuo obediently notes and starts dragging Gintoki by his neck. “Now let’s get you something to eat!”

“I can walk on my own, damn it!” Comes Gintoki’s grumbling as he frees himself from Tsukuo’s death grip.

“Yeah, yeah, ojii-san.”

“Who’re ya calling ojii-san, bastard!?”

As the two continue their banter on the way, Hinowa lets out a chuckle, waving at them. “Enjoy you two!”

A few moments later, the two enter the new izakaya which appears quite crowded due to its growing popularity. The interior seems to be pretty much similar to Otose’s snack bar – with a bar counter stretching to their right and a few dining tables to their left with customers enjoying their meal – the lively atmosphere feels refreshing. But what catches Gintoki’s interest is a savory aroma of grilled meat around the room that almost made his mouth water.

Walking up to the bar counter, Gintoki takes a seat on one of the stools with Tsukuo sitting beside him. He watches the man take his kimono off and place it on lap, exposing his well-toned biceps that can make every man in the bar look away in envy. Yes, even him.

“Ojii-san, two beef kushiyaki and one sake.” Tsukuo signals the old man behind the counter who quickly responds with a “Coming right up!” with a big smile.

Gintoki gives him a surprised look. “You don’t drink?”

“Nope. Never have.” Tsukuo honestly replies. “Does Tsukuyo?”

“Oh, yes! She loves drinking.” the silver-haired samurai exclaims, remembering all the times when they trashed countless bars together after getting wasted. “But that woman is terrible at handling her liquor.”

This catches his interest. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Gintoki shivers at the thought of his drunken wife’s face. “Give her one drop of alcohol and she turns into a savage beast! I got my head smashed by a bottle of sake when we first had a drink together.”

Tsukuo lets out a chortle. “Damn, I guess it’s better for me to not drink then.”

“Good choice. I call her ‘the drunk terminator’.” Gintoki proudly declares the infamous nickname he once gave to his lovely wife.

The old man places their order in front of them to which Tsukuo gives him a generous nod before turning his attention back to their little chat. “That’s why you called me Arnold Schwarzenegger’s lookalike back when I came to your house.”

Gintoki chuckles and picks a kushiyaki from his place. “Who else am I supposed to compare the brawny male version of my wife with, then?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” With that said, the two dig in to their plates. “Itadakimasu!”.

Taking a bite of the flavorful kushiyaki, Gintoki hums in delight. “This is really good - Ojii-san, I’ll have another of this!”

“You really don’t say no to free food, do you?” Tsukuo shakes his head, not surprised by this habit of his at all.

“Well, you offered.” Gintoki slyly replies with a mouthful to which Tsukuo feels his lips curl.

The two then continue to eat in silence, with Gintoki sneaking a few glances at the distracted man who now has again started smoking from his kiseru after the old man offered his an ashtray. Something about this entire day feels off and yet, with him, he felt at ease. Still does, actually. Perhaps, it’s because Tsukuo’s the only one who knows about his condition. Or perhaps, he’s just trying to deny the fact that he’s, at the end, the same person deep down inside that he has always felt at ease with.

Gintoki recalls the horoscope news– your love will be tested – that’s what it said. Maybe, now he understands what the test really means. But to say it out loud to him; wouldn’t that make things awkward? Because, at the end, this Tsukuyo has no reminisce of the things they have shared together…And the last things he wants to be called is a creep by his own wife.

‘Just talk to him, damn it!’ Slapping himself inside his head, Gintoki pours a glass of sake for himself and chugs it down in one go, loudly exhaling at how unusually strong it tastes. However, before he could bring up the subject, he watches a middle-aged woman wearing a lavish kimono walk to their direction.

“Tsukuo-san, I didn’t expect you to be here.” The woman stands to his right, her silky tone didn’t going unnoticed by Gintoki as she casually puts a hand on Tsukuo’s shoulder.

Something inside Gintoki catches fire.

“Oh, Kirishima-san, what brings you here?” Standing up from his seat, Tsukuo places his kimo and generously greets the lady who, not so surprisingly, reminds Gintoki of a jorogumo. What about personal space- she even has the audacity to stand so damn close to him.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” The said sophisticated Kirishima-san replies as she coyly places a hand on his chest. “You haven’t been here the whole day, I was looking for you.”

Gintoki chugs down another cup, the burning sensation in his body no longer because of the alcohol.

“Oh, um, I’ve been a little busy.” Tsukuo nervously glances at Gintoki who seems to have been declared invisible by the woman while he continues to drink his sake. He looks furious. “Is there something that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, yes. Regarding the donation work.” Kirishima-san says courteously. “If it’s okay, would you like to come outside for a little?”

“Ah, yes, I almost forgot about it.” Tsukuo apologetically says as he escorts the vixen-like lady outside of the bar. Whether it’s just work or not, this Kirishima-lady definitely has ulterior motives.

From the corner of his eyes, Gintoki watches the two chat about something that’s pretty much inaudible to him. The woman says something and Tsukuo nods. Then Tsukuo says something and the woman flirtatiously giggles. From this little view, he could say how badly she wants to get into his pants. However, he feels his blood boil when the woman starts to seductively rub her hand over his left exposed arm, as if he’s her little plaything. And Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind at all!

‘Hah! He really is a player!’ Immediately, Gintoki looks away before he could see that Tsukuo has politely taken the woman’s hand off his arm.

Scoffing, he drinks up the rest of the liquor from the bottle, sighing in satisfaction. Again, this wasn’t the first time he is seeing this side of Tsukuo but it would be a lie to say none of it…disturbs him. Not even a slightest. Of course, he understands the two are different and never can he ask the person to be someone else but still, isn’t this the same person? At this point, he really cannot comprehend any of such thoughts. And by now, he can feel the alcohol kick in, making his mind all dizzy and muddled.

“Ya know, Ojii-san, I’ve a wife! She’s jus’ the best in the world!” Gintoki slurs in front of the old man, his mind now all foggy. Never had one bottle of sake been enough for him. But tonight, it’s somehow started to show its effects.

“You are a lucky man, sir.” The old man smiles at him.

“Right~” Gintoki hiccups, a goofy smile now plastered on his flushed face. “And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu, isn’t that cool!?”

“That’s a very great name, sir.”

“Wanna show me where she is?” Ginotoki giddily whispers, just like a little child who has found lost treasure.

The man politely nods “Of course.”

Directing his thumb outside the door, Gintoki points at the Tsukuo with lopsided grin. “There! That man with the blond hair my wife!”

Hearing his little declaration, the old man laughs rather awkwardly while Gintoki continues to ramble. “Isn’t that funny? Like, she was this really sexy, badass woman before but poof, she’s a sexy, badass man now! And seriously, I don’t ‘ave any problem with tha’. But she doesn’t even remember anything! She doesn’t even love me anymore and is now flirting with other girls!” Slapping the counter loudly, he lets out a dry laugh, making the customers nearby look at his direction.

“Sir, I think you’ve had enough drink today. It’s better if you return back home with Tsukuo-dono.” The old man politely says, now giving him a concerned look as if he is now some drunk who has lost all his senses. Seriously, who was he kidding? There is no chance anyone will ever believe his words. And truthfully, a drunk’s confession is generally considered gibberish.

Exhausted and slightly dizzy, Gintoki stands up from his seat. “That guy will pay.” With that said, he leaves the bar quietly.

*****

Staggering on his feet, Gintoki somehow manages to get out of the flashy and lively streets and enters a dark, deserted alleyway. The full moon shines brightly above him, fortunately enough for him to not lose his steps and stumble down on his face like some cheap, homeless drunk. His head aches and at this moment where he has no solution to whatever-this-is, giving up seems like the only option.

“Oi, Gintoki!” The familiar voice call to him…yet again. And just like this afternoon, he wants to avoid it.

“Will ya just wait!?” Tsukuo yells again, his breathing heavy as Gintoki finally stops at his place and faces him.

“…What do ya want?”

“Why did you leave like that?” Tsukuo asks, slowly walking closer to him.

“You seemed busy with the pretty lady so I left.” Comes his cold response, making Tsukuo stop just a few steps away from him.

Gintoki expected a cocky laugh. Instead he finds Tsukuo gravely looking at his direction.

“…it was work. Really.”

Oh yeah, sure it was work. It’s always work. Whether it’s in here or there, it’s always work! And goddamn it, he was so tired of listening. All he has been trying to do for the last few weeks is to be a good, supportive husband who does not nag his wife for overworking or not spending enough time with him. If he’s being honest, he was angry, really angry at everything. But the moment he tries to make things better, some stupid horoscope predictions decides to test his affection for his wife and now, he’s stuck here with an alternate version of his wife.

Despite all this, he decides to stay quite again. No way is he going for another round of ranting session. Exhaling sharply, Gintoki rubs his temple again. “You know what, instead of doing all this, I should be looking for a way out. But for some dumbass reason, I ended up spending the entire day with you and watched you smug ass getting constantly flocked by your fangirls who you just shamelessly flirt with while I’m constantly reminded that you are not the person I love when I know it’s not true!”

….He failed. He ended up rambling again.

And so to calm himself, Gintoki breathes in. A long, deep breathe. While the man standing in front of him freezes on spot, dumbfounded and speechless.

“…were you jealous?” Tsukuo finally finds his voice back and carefully takes a step forward.

“Of course I was jealous!” The permhead finally admits.

“Why?” And another step forward…

Gintoki scoffs. “Really? You’re asking me ‘why’?”

“Yes.” And another…

He sighs loudly. “Because I love you.”  And Tsukuo smiles.

“Even when you are this flirty, cocky man! Even when you don’t remember a thing about us! Even when I know that you don’t love me here! Because whether you’re Tsukuo or Tsukuyo, deep down, I know it’s you. It will always be you. The same person that I happily devoted my heart to and there’s nothing that I ever want to cha-“

Before Gintoki can finish, Tsukuo’s presses his lips against his, shutting him up in an instant. And Gintoki freezes on his spot, his hands awkwardly dangling around his sides while his eyes widen in surprise. There is nothing too fierce and hungry about the kiss; it feels like the ones they always share after waking up, chaste and full of love. Slowly, Gintoki closes his eyes and returns the kiss back with the same favor as his. Unlike the soft and pink ones, his lips are slightly chapped. And yet, the taste and smell of smoke he has so gotten used to is enough to tell him that yes, he’s kissing the right person.

Shortly later, the two pull back. Panting, Tsukuo puts his head on Gintoki’s shoulder, hiding his now flushed face as they silently stand there, savoring this little moment.

“It’s good to hear that you still love me.” Tsukuo is the first one to break the silence, his voice a little muffled.

‘Still?’ Gintoki knits his brows, confused as he recalls the strange horoscope predication.

“Guess I’m bound to fall for you no matter what.” He can hear the relief in his voice as Tsukuo slowly raises his head. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

The test, this strange world…His smile said everything. “You knew…?”

Tsukuo doesn’t answer his question. Instead, he just lovingly smiles at him and says something else as Gintoki feels his vision get blurry, his face slowly disappearing before him as his voice gets replaced by the one he has been hearing for years.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve got something to tell you.”

*****

The stiff sofa cushion has made his back ache painfully as Gintoki slowly sits up, stretching his arms and legs to loosen up his sore muscles. Sluggishly, he scans the surrounding to find the bulb above him glowing and outside the window, its pitch black, suggesting its night by now. He doesn’t even remember when he fell asleep. The TV is right around the corner as always and so is the little shelf. And there are two frames kept there- one of the Yororzuya and the other of his wedding day…

“You’re awake.” His eyes snap open at the familiar….and feminine voice of his wife who emerges from their bedroom right behind him. Turing around, he finds Tsukuyo walk up to him with her nightgown on.

In an instant, Gintoki jumps up from his seat and rushes to his wife, embraces her in a tight hug and almost making her lose balance. “OhmyGod, Gintoki! What’re you doing?”

Even her yelp didn’t make his huge grin disappear as he held his wife close, breathing in her freshly bathed scent. “I missed you!”

“H-huh? W-what’s the matter?” His sudden confession made the woman turn a deep shade of pink.

Pulling back from the hug, he lovingly presses his lips against hers. “I’m saying I missed you, woman!”

Watching the joyous smile on her husband’s face, Tsukuyo feels her lips curl up too as she caresses his cheeks affectionately. “I missed you too, you foolish man.”

“I just had the strangest dream ever. All just to see that no matter what or who you are, I will always end up falling for you.” Placing a hand on her heart, Gintoki looks at the love of his life with the brightest smile on his face. “It practically called you my soulmate.”

Hearing this, Tsukuyo lovingly holds her husband’s face in her palms, her amethyst eyes and soft voice entrancing him for the rest of his life. “Soulmate or not, I’ll always fall for you, too. No matter what.”

This makes the man exhale a sigh of relief. “I love you.” Gintoki says and leans in to touch his forehead with hers.

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry I couldn’t spend time with you for the last couple of weeks. You even came to meet me today but I couldn’t make it.” Tsukuyo apologetically says and closes her eye, finding comfort in his embrace.

Instead of asking when he went to meet her, Gintoki gently presses a kiss on her forehead and looks back at her. “Don’t apologize. Just…don’t overwork yourself, okay? And take a break. I was thinking of keeping it a surprise but let’s go somewhere for anniversary, on a trip.”

To his offer, Tsukuyo happily hums in response. “Okay. Let’s go.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him for a hug which he happily accepts.

Gintoki doesn’t remember what exactly happened here; the dream is only that he has memories of. And yet, there is a part of him that knows that wasn’t just a dream. However, instead of pondering about the past, he’d rather live in the present. After all, he deserves this moment of happiness his wife after getting his mind bombarded by a strange ‘test’.

“By the way, I think I’ll have to take a longer break.”

At this, Gintoki pulls back a little, slightly confused. “Huh?”

Looking down, he watches Tsukuyo take his hand off her waist and slowly bring it to her belly while Gintoki looks back up at her, astonished and completely speechless.

“Looks like you’re gonna be a father again, Sakata-san.” Watching the sexy smirk adoring her beautiful face, Gintoki feels his face go from surprised to purely ecstatic. And in an instant, he sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around in exhilarating joy while Tsukuyo giggles warmly in his arms.

“WE’RE GONNA PARENTS SOON!”

“Hahahaha! Gintoki, stop it!”

“WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS SOON , BABY!”

“Yes, yes! I know! Now put me down!”

In between their giggles and joyous laughs, the two stop midway in their little celebration as Gintoki carefully brings the woman down. His wide, goofy grin never leaves his face and he once again presses his lips against hers, which she wholeheartedly returns. No way can he ever explain how happy he is now. After years of running away, after years of calling himself unworthy of love, he finally found someone who now shares her life with him. And never in this lifetime or any other, would he like to change that.

“Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world.”

#gintsu #gintoki x tsukuyo #gintoki x tsukuo #sakata gintoki #tsukuo #tsukuyo #my fanfic #gintama