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saint-eridell · 4 years

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TdMo fluff/smut drabble

Oh boy. First post on the new blog.

This is loosely based on the yakuza AU @the-angriestpineapple, @deadassqueeraf and I have been writing. It’ll definitely get expanded at some point, but someone on our main server decided to poke my brain and this fell out. Unbeta’d, we die like men (which means it’ll take forever to get to my AO3, womp womp).

4.1k; Yakuza AU. Shouto and Momo are married, all characters are in their mid-twenties. Story building, lots of fluff, smut toward the end. No major content warnings.

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It was fairly common for Shouto to wake up for work incredibly early in the morning. His office didn’t technically open until eight, but he was sometimes out the front door at least an hour and a half before that to account for surprise traffic and coffee lines. The unusual part was Shouto waking up incredibly early for two, nearly three weeks straight: every morning, seven days a week, the same chime playing before the sun had even remotely touched the bedroom curtains.

By the end of the third week Momo’s patience had worn down to a wispy sliver pulled taught as a piano string. She’d anticipated her own irritation upon going to sleep the night prior, but hearing Shouto’s alarm go off just before five in the morning pulled what remained of her patience until it snapped with a force that surprised her even in her post-sleep delirium. Her eyelids flew open as she felt Shouto roll over behind her, grunting while he fumbled for his phone to turn off the alarm. She didn’t move with him or indicate she was awake, instead letting him sit up and stretch himself awake in silence as she stared at the dark wall across from her side of the bed.

The mattress dipped soundlessly behind her as Shouto leaned into her to press a tender peck to her cheek, her eyes only barely closing before he leaned into view of her features. He hovered for a moment before a warm fingertip brushed a lock of dark hair off her temple and behind her ear. “I love you,” he whispered, soft and reverent like he never was anywhere else, before sliding away with practiced grace, leaving Momo alone in the bed as he stumped off to take a shower and ready himself for the day.

She grinned into her pillow. Despite the obtuse block of wood that Shouto could be, his tender side was something Momo would never be over and she was a terribly lucky woman for having to all to herself. She loved him beyond the point of finding words to describe it.

Once Shouto left the bedroom, she slowly lurched out of the bed and set herself into motion. She didn’t have to be awake that early on a day off, but she’d resolved the moment her eyes opened that she was going to get a break from that goddamn alarm, no matter what it took. The first step was getting herself ready - a drawn out shower to ensure Shouto had already left the house when she got out, the expensive hair serum she saved for big occasions, clean makeup with a shiny cherry lip and a hint of a sharp jet-black wing. Her hair was blow-dried into a long, flat sheet that hung against the back of the tight red cardigan she plucked from a dresser drawer, along with a dark gray tweed skirt that danced around her hips in loose petal-shaped pleats.

With everything seemingly in place, Momo gave herself a once-over in the floor length mirror that hung next to her dresser. She turned sideways, tracing the curve of her backside where it blotted out a hill of light emanating from her bedside table. Her hands smoothed over the skirt’s intricately woven tweed, the two silver rings on her hand catching the dim light against the dark contrast of the skirt fabric. Her smile returned, soft and genuine. He was caught in that same work rut again. She had do something drastic to break the cycle, and this seemed drastic enough to her.

“Damn, you look good,” she muttered to herself for an extra confidence boost before heading off for the kitchen to caffeinate for the day. Mina was going to be so proud of her.

Lunch was an easy affair to sort. They’d prepared daytime meals ahead of time, a habit Shouto had gotten her into that quickly became a staple of the very limited time they got to spend with each other during the week. That day’s boxes got tucked into a small lunch box lined with cold packs (of course he’d forgotten to grab his lunch again; Momo was going to smack him across the side of the head) along with two melon sodas before she set off for her car. Dinner was already in the slow cooker, the house was immaculate to a level that had to make him chill out, and Momo’s assistant was ready to cover her “sick leave” for up to a couple of days by the time she set off for his office. Perfect. So far, everything was going to plan.

Shouto’s office sat in the middle of a sleek street near the city’s financial district. The block was lined with shiny black mirror glass on both sides, the sidewalk below dotted with an equal mix of suit-clad businessfolk and minimum wage workers husting to their next bus stop. Momo navigated through them to park underneath Shouto’s office building before making her way into the parking level’s elevator, her heels clinking against the concrete that surrounded her until she was encased in steel.

Shouto’s suite occupied the entire top floor of the building. Momo tapped the last button on the panel just inside the lift’s sliding door and waited patiently as it lurched upward, not stopping until she’d arrived at the very top. She snorted quietly. Had he rigged the panel to go directly to his floor when prompted?

His receptionist - Ayame, right - was busy hammering away at her keyboard when Mono sauntered into the waiting area. Her tall boot heels heralded her arrival in staccato taps against the white marble floor, loud enough to get Ayame’s attention, who popped up with a surprised gasp before jolting to her feet. “Ahh, sorry Mrs. To-”

“Momo, please,” she cut in before the receptionist could finish. “I’m not here on official business.” She bumped her hip against the lunch box held at her side. “Just dropping off lunch. Making sure he hasn’t keeled over yet. The usual.”

Ayame sighed in relief, a hand clutched to her chest. “Oh thank goodness,” she breathed. “I thought I’d missed a meeting reminder or something.”

Momo frowned slightly. The poor thing looked like she was about to keel over herself. Her eyes were half-mooned with pale gray circles that pressed too hard into her skin for someone fresh out of college. She’d been working just as hard as Shouto, then. Momo would have to talk to him about remembering that not everyone is a semi-human work machine. For now… “Why don’t you take a couple hours for lunch?” she said softly, offering Ayame an encouraging smile. “Grab some coffee and take a walk around the park. You look like you haven’t breathed fresh air in days.”

Ayame’s surprise and relief were both palpable. She blinked, glancing at her boss’ closed office doors. “I don’t think I should,” she replied quietly. “His lunch hour is about to start, and there are meetings scheduled within the two hours afterward…” She blinked hard, a lightbulb seemingly popping to life between her ears. “I’ll route all calls to my work phone and take a picnic lunch. I’ll be back no earlier than 1:45.”

Momo checked her watch. It was 12:15. “Excellent.” She flashed Ayame a brilliant smile on the way toward the double doors leading into Shouto’s office. “Thank you. Really. I’ll make sure he knows how far out of your way you’re going.”

Ayame snorted quietly, her purse already hung over a shoulder. “You know me,” she replied cheekily. “I work to the bone for my paycheck. This really is the worst, let me tell you.”

Momo laughed in return. She waited for the elevator to close before reaching for the door knobs in front of her, unwilling to let anything else distract them. There was no reason for anyone else to be on that floor for the following hour and a half. Until 1:45, Shouto was hers. She twisted one knob and leaned her weight forward to push the door open, only to jump in surprise when it bumped against the sole of a shoe on the other side.

Shouto blinked back at her through the crack between the door and its frame, too stupid cute for his own good as he visibly tried to parse out what was happening. Momo had known him for over a decade at that point and he’d only gotten cuter over time. Good God, how was he even human? “Uh, hi,” he said, his confusion apparent. He peered around her toward the back of Ayame’s desk. “Did I hear the elevator twice?”

“Yep.” Momo didn’t give him time to investigate. She held the lunch box up and put it between them as she walked forward to make him focus on taking it from her hands while she closed the door behind herself. “Your receptionist is on lunch break and you left yours at home.”

It worked. He took the lunch box and gave her room by stepping back, smiling the whole time. “Thank you, Momo,” he said, eyeing the container with obvious elation. “I would have just had something delivered when I realized it was missing. You didn’t have to come all the way up here just to give me this.”

“Of course I did.” It was a casual day with nothing major planned as far as she knew, but Shouto was still dressed like he was going to meet a room full of politicians. His dove gray button up was rolled to the elbows, the rest of him all clean pressed lines and well tailored hems that hid what she knows to be a deceptively lithe frame. Under the expensive business drag, Shouto was built like an endurance runner. She smoothed her hand over the seam where his neck and shoulder met on the way to press a soft kiss to his mouth. He pulled in a sharp little breath through his nose, but immediately relaxed under her touch as the breath came out in a slow stream. She pushed everything she wanted to say out loud into that one brief kiss - you’re safe, it’s okay, you can relax. It seemed to get the message across, because Shouto’s hands were on her waist just a few seconds later as he eagerly returned the tenderness offered to him.

They pulled back before the contact became anything but chaste. Momo offered him an innocent smile, even as she lingered in his space and played with the pressed edges of his shirt lapel. “Take your lunch break. Please.”

Shouto’s gaze fell to the meager space between them, grip loose and gentle over the points of her hip bones. He looked so… tired. What could have possibly been weighing on him hard enough to make him physically slump over? Did she really want to know, especially if it had anything to do with his “ side jobs”?

“Okay.”

He tilted his head up again, and when he met her eyes again his flickered with sadness. “I’m sorry.”

Momo slipped her arms around his neck to pull him the rest of the way toward her and into a tight hug, their fronts seamed together from the collar down. He clinged back, snaked around her waist like he was afraid she would melt through the floor. That wouldn't do. “Don’t apologize,” she murmured back into the side of his head, her fingers snaking up through his hair on the other side to soothe his scalp with her nails. “You’re doing your job. It’s not your fault things are busy.”

“That doesn’t excuse neglecting you.” He stepped back again, taking the lunch box with him on the way to a massive wood desk sitting in front of the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “My lunch hour is all yours. It doesn’t make up for being so spacy the last few weeks, but I hope it’s a start.” He sets the container down on the desk to open it and unpack their lunch, but Momo quickly follows him and pushes his hands flat against the lid.

“Wait.”

He was still thinking too much, dammit. Shouto did as requested and went still under her touch while she scooted their lunch out of the way and rounded the desk in three long, slow strides. He tracked her every step, confusion warring with a spark of desire Momo fully intended to cultivate as she slid into his personal space again and nudged him back into his chair. He landed in the seat with a grunt and a quiet thump while Momo perched herself on the very edge of his desk in front of him.

“I thought you were coming by to have lunch,” he said plainly, a faint smirk edging across his mouth when Momo’s face pinched into a frown. He was needling back, the bastard. He’d already keyed into what was happening and was playing coy just to get back at her. Fine. At least he wasn’t thinking about work.

She nodded back. “That’s still happening.” Her hands gripped the edge of his desk on either side for leverage as she scooted up to take her weight off her feet, bumping his shin playfully but gently with the toe of a shoe on her way up. Her knees had been pressed tightly together until she hopped up, but once she was seated she let them widen until they were held reasonably wide without being too obscene. Her loose skirt pooled around her lap and across the span of desk between her spread thighs, effectively curtaining any direct view. If this didn’t get him out of work-brain, nothing short of a fan dance with tax forms would.

Luckily, it didn’t come down to burlesque with office supplies. Shout followed the shift of her knees with a slackened jaw, hunger building in his narrowed gaze and the fingers that tightened around the arms of his chair as he pushed himself up to his feet. His desk only increased their height difference by an inch or so, but it felt like he towered over her as his hands found her shoulders and pulled her into another kiss. The suggestion seemed to have gotten his head into the game; the faint edge of teeth pressing into her lower lip parted them and he groaned in appreciation as a callused hand smoothed itself over her lower back.

She hadn’t exactly chosen this life. It was unsaid knowledge that they would end up together before either of them could have even understood the concept. Truthfully, neither of them had been left with much choice. But as he pulled her onto the edge of the desk again in one smooth tug, seaming their laps together so quick it left her breathless, Momo couldn’t help the fondness that swelled in her chest. God, was she lucky to have ended up with him. Under all the coldness and professionalism and deeply-rooted anxiety was a man too kind and sensitive for the ugly world he’d been born into. If she hadn’t been the one “convenient” enough to use as a power consolidation move, would she have ever seen that tender side of him?

They’d barely found a rhythm between their mouths when Shouto broke away to hover at the side of her neck, just a breath away from her pulse. She jumped at the ghost of his breath over her skin, which she quickly realized was just a distraction as Shouto pushed his hands under the tulip hem of her skirt, palms flat to her bare thighs. “Bastard,” she grumbled as she stomped on the urge to squirm. He kept his office ice cold, which meant his fingers were usually about the same temperature in concentrated form.

She could feel his smirk against her neck as his hands trailed further up her thighs. She felt his fingertips poke into her abdomen, right at the bare seam where her hip and thigh met, and when he paused to groan quietly against her skin the urge to squirm became too much. “You planned this out,” he rumbled.

Momo circled her painted nails over the back of his neck. “Indeed,” she admitted while she toyed with the clipped strands at his hairline. “Down to the contingencies.”

He hummed again, deep and low in his chest, the rumble echoing through her as she clung to him harder. His hands were no longer frigid against her when they slid even further up, a comfortably familiar set of puzzle pieces that fit snug against the seams just below the points of her hips. When he met nothing but more bare skin, it hit some kind of switch in him because Shouto dipped to kiss her again with a newfound urgency, his grip tightening at the pads of his fingers until Momo wriggled against the pressure.

When he let go, it was only to slip down to his knees and tug her own over his shoulders. The bell shape of her skirt tented almost comically over his head as his arms bracketed her thighs against his ears, obscured until he audibly huffed and paused to shove the offending garment up toward her stomach.

Momo snorted as her skirt was abruptly jammed upward. “Easy down there,” she chided gently. “I like this ski-”

Her heatless protest was cut off by a sharp inhale as an impossibly hot tongue drags a long, agonizing line up the length of her exposed slit. Just as quickly, any thought she had to preserve her skirt flew out the window. He could have ripped it off her for all she cared (though logic screamed from somewhere in the void that that would be a terrible idea). A near save of throwing an arm back prevented her from losing her balance and falling back against the desk, the heel of her palm landing with a loud thud. His shoulder nudged her leg up far enough for her boot to find his chair and she eagerly took the leverage, his shoulder effortlessly holding the other leg wide.

He set into her like a man starved. It was all Momo could do to sit back and let him ravage her with only his mouth: reflex dictated she navigate them to the floor and re-position herself above his mouth until she was satisfied he’d decompressed enough. As it were, he drank in the praise that bubbled from her with quiet groans and subtle arches of his head into the fingers she had tangled through his hair, set on his task with an intense focus that had Momo nearly falling apart at the seams in what felt like moments.

When his lips locked around her core, there was no way she could have held herself up even if she wanted to. She dropped back to the top of the desk as gently as she could as Shouto nudged her hips upward, splaying her knees even wider than she’d been holding them over the edge of the desk. She buried her face in the crook of a sweatered elbow just in time to muffle the wail he tore out of her as he latched around her again with two warm, thin fingers sunk down to the hilt.

Momo had been on her fingers for long enough that being touched by someone else nearly sent her over the edge. Shout seemed to read her tensing up accurately and withdrew before she could fully commit to her orgasm, leaving her dangling on the edge until she sucked in a breath and forced herself back. When Shouto moved to stand, her sudden scowl only deepened. “What the fuck?” she breathed, but her confusion evaporated the moment she saw his hands go for his belt buckle.

Oh. Oh.

He was on her again before she could fully process the transition. Somewhere off the edge of the desk his belt jingled as he shoved his slacks down toward his knees, his once neatly tucked in shirt a rumpled mess against her skirt where it pooled around her stomach. Their lips sealed together hard enough for Momo to feel it against her teeth, a hand supporting the back of her neck when Shouto buried himself inside her with one hard, seemingly blind thrust.

God, that level of competency shouldn’t be possible, let along legal. Momo wailed again into their open mouths, the noise all but swallowed by Shouto as he allowed her a solitary second to breathe, then moved straight into a demanding pace that had her writhing under the intensity. Their hands tangled together on the way up to either side of her head, where the backs of her hands were unceremoniously pinned down as he fucked her hard enough to make the desk creak under them both.

Obscenities and even more obscene noises echoed around the otherwise silent office as they both approached their climaxes. Shouto looked like he was about to either pass out or fall apart at the seams; Momo encouraged him toward the latter by wrapping her legs around his waist and lifting her lower half off the desk to let him go as deep as he could and holy shit she didn’t know he could go that deep. Neither of them lasted more than a few seconds, Shouto bottoming out with a guttural moan that stuttered with his hips. Momo followed him as soon as she felt him fill her from what felt like the core out, her back arched up off the desk in a sharp crescent with Shouto desperately panting into her neck as she warbled out his name.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. This was the man she’d fallen for, not the exhausted log she’d greeted at the office door. She couldn’t see his face but she could feel him smiling against her neck, his breaths coming in short bursts that fanned over her throat as he clung to her. “I love you,” he murmured between breaths. “So much. Gonna be better to you, promise. More of this, less of this morning.”

His hands have already begun to wander despite his bearings still clearly being scattered, soothing down her sides and circling her shoulders and seeking out every spot that makes her melt as she slumped against the desk, struggling for her own breath. Even while exhausted and strung out of his mind, Shouto still instinctively nurtured others before himself. The world really was too cruel of a place for people like him.

“It’s not a set of checkboxes,” she reminded gently. Her manicured nails dragged matching paths up the back of his head from hairline to crown, tilting his head into the center of her bosom. Shouto rolled with the touch and settled into her chest, his hands coming to a rest at her sides once she began idly circling through his hair. “It’s the effort that counts. I love you too. I’m not mad, promise. I just miss you.”

Shouto tilted far enough to peer up at her, mismatched eyes still hazy when they found hers from somewhere around the top of her covered cleavage. She hugged him into her chest tighter as it ballooned with fondness again. He hadn’t pulled out yet; he had no right to be that cute. “Let me get through one more call and then we can go home together,” he suggested. “Maybe we can make dinner and watch a movie or something.”

“That sounds great,” she replied before Shouto could have a moment to doubt himself. She beamed down at him, confident and assuring. “But first I think you might want to, uh…”

Shouto’s eyes darted to where their hips were still locked together and jumped with a quiet gasp. “Sorry.” He slowly backed himself away until he was completely free in one slow, almost agonizing slide, Momo’s knees closing within moments so she could haul herself upright and begin adjusting her sweater hems.

“Has anyone told you you’re incredibly handsome lately?”

Shouto froze midway through buttoning his fly with a little choked noise. She watched his eyes widen slightly as he stared at the carpet, his cheeks a slightly deeper pink than they had been when they separated. “Yes,” he said back with surprising certainty. “But it’s still nice to hear.” The smile he shot back at her was disarming to a concerning level, and Momo felt her own cheeks deepen when he fixed her with it.

Bastard.

#todoroki shouto x yaoyorozu momo #todomomo #bnha smut #bnha yakuza au #drabbles #my fics

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n0-eyedtaissa · 4 years

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Lethal Charm: Chapter Two (Serial Killer!Reggie Mantle AU)

Disclaimer: This story is in no way intended to romanticize Bundy or his crimes, all details about victims and their death have been tweaked and changed out of respect for the deceased + as a loose attempt to follow canon.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/smoking, blood, depictions of violence/death.

Word Count: 6,634

A police siren rings out in high-pitched bleats that are long and loud enough to make people in the surrounding areas press their palms flat against their ears to muffle the sound. Blue and red lights cast over the front of the building, illuminating the circle of squad cars clustered together as they waited for the coroner’s van to pull up to the scene. There usually wasn’t all that much excitement around the UW campus; school security officials held their police scanner radios close to their chests and wished for better circumstances.

There’s blood on her bed — Midge Klump’s bed. Her pink silk sheets are dried and stuck together from where the blood soaked through the fabric. The dorm room is thick with the smell of it. One of the officers was wondering if the girl bled to death, another said that if the victim bled out, “You’d know. This ain’t nothin’” There’s a white nightgown hung up over one of the drain-pipes, bobbing and weaving on the man-made breeze that came with so many people bounding in and out of the basement bedroom. The fabric is old and weathered, a hole worn into the side seam, a browning ring of dried blood around the neck. A crime scene photographer flits around the room, taking pictures of any and all little inconsistencies, anything that could be used as evidence eventually.

There’s pictures of the nightgown in the newspaper that week; the dried blood, the broken lock on the basement door. Midge’s pillowcase was gone. So was her backpack and a handful of clothes. Her body was not at the scene of the crime.

“You listen to me, and you listen good now: The same bastard who attacked that little girl at the beginning of last month has now taken Midge Klump. People saw him. He was outside of both houses.” The city had started up a help line, open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for University students and surrounding people of the neighborhood to call in case they remembered something, or came across any other shady behavior. There was a few crank calls, some kids are just bored and downright twisted, but it was mostly helpful information. Suspect was an Asian male, 26 to 28. Little over 6 foot. Muscular build. A few of the neighbors had seen the perp lurking around the area in a little VW Beetle.

Midge Klump was the textbook definition of a “Nice Girl”. She was bread and butter, had a small but tight-knit family that mattered to her more than anything. Never having been the girl in the spotlight, Midge flourished in college, no longer kept at bay by fruitless fake friends turned home-town enemies. She let her hair down, found her voice; when she got to the University of Washington she decided to do things that would challenge her comfort zone. The first week of school she got her hair cut short by a student beautician in the lounge of the girl’s dormitory, the next week she found herself writing her name and phone number down on the sign-up sheet for the university’s theatre program, and after smoking a little bit of pot, Midge actually had the guts to audition. She’s first understudy in the Spring Musical…it hits a little too close to home, but she’s always appreciative that she’s even able to be apart of the action.

She was diligent and hard working; never all that much of partier, always made sure she got a recommended eight hours of sleep, always was looking bright-eyed at her professors as she sat in the front row for their early morning lectures. Midge was full of promise and life, something that was agreed upon by anyone who encountered her, regardless of their relation to her. She was a pillar in the inner-workings of the UW theater troupe, helped with the outreach program in place at the local elementary school; Midge liked helping the kids out so much that on Monday she bounded into the admin building asking for the paperwork to fill out to declare her major in Child & Adolescent Development Studies. Midge thought she was gonna be an actress…and a teacher…and a Mother. She would have been great at anything she set her sights on. She could have been, but that was taken from her.

After it happened, the police made a comprehensive timeline of Midge’s whereabouts leading up to her disappearance. The cops were trying to cover all of their bases, talking to all of Midge’s friends and housemates, her shift supervisor, her store manager, her professor; anyone who had seen her in the hours before her disappearance. The officers were aggressive, trying to leave no stone unturned as they grilled on about Midge’s life, asking if there was anyone who would want to hurt Midge. Each person that was questioned swore up and down that Midge didn’t have any enemies, that she wasn’t that kind of girl. Whether their statements were a correct testimony to the circumstances behind the girl’s disappearance was a different story though, because the police pressed on further. There was a big suspect board tacked up on the bulletin board down at the station, though it was looking a little blank. Midge’s senior portrait from high school was posted up in the middle of it all, blue string connecting to the crime scene photos; the bloodied nightgown swaying eerily from where it was hooked onto the drain pipe, the Midge-shaped indent in a vacant bed, the broken lock — Sheriff said it looked like the perp cut the pad-lock with bolt cutters. Besides the old portrait of the missing girl and the sparse number of crime scene photos, the only other solidified evidence the police were working with was an outline of the victim’s confirmed whereabouts:

[1:35 PM] KLUMP leaves place of residence to commence her walk to campus; roommate confirms that victim was running late. [1:50 PM] Victim sets foot on the University of Washington campus, due east towards the Humanities building. [2:00 PM] University Professor MARY ANDREWS confirms that KLUMP was present for attendance and through the class period. [4:45 PM] KLUMP exits building, heads north towards the Student Union [4:50] KLUMP sits down for coffee with KEVIN KELLER, the two started discussions about the upcoming musical theatre production

—

Midge slung her schoolbag over her shoulder, taking in a deep breath between her teeth as she quickened her pace. A brief glance at her watch was enough to alert her that she was late, officially having left Kevin hanging for approximately three minutes and forty-five seconds. Kevin Keller was a theater major and it was obvious, but despite his grand talents and his ability to match pitch, he saw something in Midge from the first day she walked into the auditions for Guys & Dolls. He didn’t give her the part of Sarah Brown, but she ended up being the understudy. After one of the dormitory buildings goes under quarantine for mono, Midge ended up in the spotlight for the closing night of the musical; her rendition of "I've Never Been In Love Before” garnered a full standing ovation. Kevin sure had his clipboard handed to him, not casting Midge in the first place. He was determined to rectify that this semester, even if he was doing it for somewhat of a selfish reason: The department head said that if the musical pulled good numbers this season, he'd work with Kevin on a plan for expanding the budget and allotting more funds to be applied to costume and set design for future productions. Kevin hated to say it out loud, but he needed Midge. He sees her hobbling towards him across the quad and sends a polite, tight-lipped smile her way as he waited for her to approach.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Midge apologizes, fluttering into the area on a gust of wind. She huffs and reaches a frazzled hand up to pet down the loose hairs of her bangs, flinging her book bag onto the wooden table, “My Professor decided that the perfect time to hand back midterm papers was the last five minutes of a three hour class and demanded to talk to everybody about the grade that they got”. Midge rolled her eyes before smoothing down the back of her skirt in order to sit across from Kevin. He finds her personality to be endearing but this was more of a business meeting than a friendly gathering and Kevin meant business.

“That’s not a problem,” Kevin brushes off her tardiness with a homegrown smile and a small sip of his cappuccino. “I actually had something that I had been meaning to discuss with you…about the upcoming musical.”

Midge’s eyebrow raised in inquisition, “Did you and Fogarty decide on what production’s gonna be put on?” It’d been a point of tension for the small troupe of students for a few months now, since people started hearing whispers about casting rumors.

Kevin sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat, “On behalf of the entire theater department, I’d like to —informally— announce that this spring we’ll be putting on a production of,” Kevin does a mock drumroll against the table, “Bye Bye Birdie!” His megawatt smile beams over at Midge as she clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh that’s so exciting!” She tittered, the toes of her sandals tapping excitedly against the pavement. Midge was quite pleased, two weeks ago when the little paper ballots were handed out, she checked the little box besides the classic show before folding it neatly in half and handing it to Kevin. The group was an uneven split and Midge was sure that the co-director’s choice was going to win the draw, but she was in luck!

The initial excitement wore off pretty fast, and as the two college sophomores knew virtually nothing about each other besides a shared joy for acting, things quickly grew awkward. Kevin looked across the table at Midge, who’s smile had faded to more of a grimace. “And!” He clapped his hands together like one of the excited tour guides that led groups of potential students around the school grounds.

“And?” Midge questions, eyebrow raising with inquisition.

“I wanted to talk to you about casting,” Kevin started earnestly. “I know that with the last production you were a little upset by the fact that we stuck you with the role of first understudy, but you came through when we needed you to the most and absolutely blew the house down, so I was wondering…” He paused for emphasis and took a quick glance over at Midge to gauge her reaction, “Would you do us all the honors of being our Kim?”

Part of Midge wanted to refuse the offer, to rub it in Kevin’s face a little more now after all of the times that Kevin took advantage of her. But she knew that she had talent, no matter how many times she wasn’t the one in the spotlight; now she had had the chance to show everyone the skills she had been working so hard on since the winter musical. “I’d love nothing more!” She sighs, feeling dreamy before giving Kevin a quick embrace. The two make idle chatter about auditions and rehearsal schedules before Kevin excuses himself and lets Midge get on with the rest of her day.

[5:40 PM] KLUMP exits school grounds and begins her walk back to place of residence. [5:50 PM] Victim is offered a ride home from roommate, GINGER LOPEZ, approximately six blocks away from their shared house at 5823 Healy Avenue. LOPEZ and KLUMP commence their drive and arrive back on Healy Ave around [6:00PM]. [6:10 PM] KLUMP retreats to her bedroom, located in the basement of the residence. [8:00PM] Both KLUMP and LOPEZ exit the premises, with LOPEZ driving the two the local college bar, The Maple Club.

—

The sound of the gravel crunching under the car’s tires is enough to make Midge wince and grit her teeth, her knuckles having gone white after holding on for dear life as her housemate sped along the main road as the two girls made their way to the old college bar for an after-school pint.

“Remind me to never drive with you when you’re angry” Midge huffed, flipping down the sun visor to check her hair in the small mirror. She pulls her tube of lipstick out from her pocket and purses her lips as she applies the shimmery pink tint.

Ginger wasn’t listening, which didn’t come as a surprise to Midge as she hoisted herself up and out of the vehicle, pausing to smooth down the back of her skirt and check out her reflection in the window. The short-haired girl watches as Ginger stomps out her cigarette, and soon the two girls are locking their arms together and preparing to take the nightlife by storm.

When the two girls cross over the bar’s threshold, their senses are accosted by the bitter smell of smoke and the static boom of voices as they tried to overpower the loud, smooth rock music that was playing over the blown-out speakers.

“Look who it is” Ginger leans down to whisper-yell into Midge’s ear, gesturing to a handsome young man sipping frothy beer from a frosted glass.

—

[8:30] LOPEZ confirms that the victim was spotted with long-time suitor, MARMADUKE, “MOOSE” MASON, no history of violence, harassment, or foul play.

—

Moose Mason was a nice boy. Homegrown, the kind of man that most girls would dream of bringing home to their mother and father. He was a pressed linen shirt and a white picket fence, an old beat-up Ford truck that he spent the summer after high school fixing with his father. He was meat and potatoes. Moose Mason was good. He met Midge when he was recruiting potential new brothers from his fraternity; asked her if she wasn’t a part of any school sororities because they’d all be competing to have a pretty girl like her. Moose Mason was clumsy, heartfelt, not good with words but never shying away from expressing his hopes and dreams. It took him over a month to ask Midge out on a date: The two went dancing at the Maple Club and he was a perfect gentlemen. Moose didn’t drink anything because he wanted to make sure he’d be able to get Midge home safe. Didn’t smoke, didn’t try to make a move on her (though he did give Midge a goodnight kiss on the cheek after walking her back to her front door). His Christian methods of courtship were proving to be lackluster to Midge. She was waiting for someone to take her breath away, someone to sweep her off her feet and break her out of her suburban comfort zone. Moose Mason wasn’t quite there yet, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop trying.

“You look real pretty tonight, Midgie” Moose says as he walks up to the pair of girls, drunk on confidence and Coors Lite as he teetered, slinging a heavy arm around the short-haired girl’s shoulders.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mason” Ginger scoffs, rolling her eyes as she pulls out a cigarette. Moose laughs at the pinch-faced girl but can’t help but waft the air around him to clear the thick stream of smoke. "Find me when you’re ready to spend some time with more exciting people”

Midge nods, silently preparing herself for the damage control she would have to face with the backlash of her roommate’s harsh words. But like always, Moose Mason is there standing tall, with his puppyish brown eyes and his sad smile.

“I’m sorry about her, must be her time of the month” She fibs, biting at her painted lips.

Moose chuckles, “No, I think she’s always that unpleasant”

Midge is taken aback by the young man’s sudden bout of unabashed honesty, so much so that her gut reaction is to laugh loudly and without regard for who may hear her. She shuts up quickly and claps a hand over her mouth. Moose has a wry look on his face and it confuses Midge because she didn’t think he had a mean bone in his body. It didn’t suit him, but maybe that’s what made it so much more enticing. She lets Moose buy her a beer, lets herself be led onto the dance floor, lets him rest his hands on her backside as they swayed to the in-house band.

—

[9:45PM] LOPEZ confirms seeing MARMADUKE MASON exit the MAPLE CLUB, sans KLUMP. LOPEZ claims that KLUMP was spotted in a darker corner of the bar with an unknown man: Handsome, over 6-foot, dark hair & eyes. NAME UNKNOWN]

—

Midge dangles her feet off of the tall barstool as she watches Ginger flirt unabashedly with the fraternity meatheads that were always regulars at the Maple Club. She watches how the guys leaned into Ginger when she spoke, a protective hand covering the small of her back. It’s not that Midge needed the attention, or that she wanted it even, just that it seemed to come so easy to her roommate. Watching Ginger tote one of her suitors to the back corner of the bar to feel her up, Midge can’t help but sigh. When Moose Mason left the Maple Club early that evening, he barely gave Midge a kiss goodbye. She got a half-hearted peck on the cheek and a side-hug. Knowing how old-fashioned the boy was, this behavior made sense, but Moose treated her less like someone he wanted to date, and more like a sister or a cousin. All Midge wanted was to feel desirable, to feel beautiful and confident after all of her adolescent years spent in the shadows of her so called “friends” from grade school. Her head hands low and woeful as she watches the couples dancing under the red lights to the music of the surprisingly good in-house band.

“Is this seat taken?” A smooth voice knocks Midge out of her self-deprecating trance. When she looks up, she’s surprised to see a tall, handsome man smiling down at her.

“It’s yours now” She smiles politely, glancing away from the man and assuming that he was most likely waiting for some beautiful girl he was on a date with.

“You come here often?” The man asks again, with more intent, shifting his weight towards Midge as he sits atop the rickety barstool.

“Sometimes, yeah” Midge answers honestly, “Though I’m not usually alone” She gestures broadly to her roommate Ginger at the other side of the bar, who was letting her suitor feel her up over her turtleneck sweater.

“Well, you’re not alone now, are you?” The handsome man smirks at Midge and she finds herself leaning in closer and opening herself up for conversation. She looks up at the stranger dreamily and takes in his appearance: Statuesque build, broad shoulders, clean-cut with his shirt tucked in and his hair slicked back. Pretty, pursed lips that would make the cosmetology students jealous, a smirk that made Midge weak in the knees.

“I guess not” She giggled in response, toying with a lock of her cropped hair.

“I’m Reginald” He skips over his last name but Midge doesn’t think anything of it, moving forward with introductions to give the man her name and to talk about college-related things, like choice of major and prospective carer paths.

Reginald was a photography student, though his father wished that he would have chosen to study law like the rest of the men in his family. The way Reginald spoke about his father, it was clear that there was some resentment there, but it wasn’t anything Midge felt comfortable pushing as she knew it wasn’t her business.

“I bet you have a really good artistic eye!” She pipes up, trying to ease some of the tension. “I’d love to see some of your work someday…” She hopes that the prospect of seeing each other another time doesn’t come on too strong for Reginald, the last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate and pushy, especially with someone as handsome and charming as he was.

“I’d quite like that” There was a twinkle in Reginald’s eye that she couldn’t seem to place, but it made her feel hopeful nonetheless.

The two carried on conversation for the better part of a few hours, laughing and talking casually while exchanging freshman year horror stories and hometown gems. When Reginald asked if he could buy her a drink, she wanted to be coquettish and refuse, but she didn’t, not wanting to run the risk of offending the man and scaring him. That one pint turned into a whole pitcher, and Midge was feeling loose and bubbly, not even ashamed to say that she was playing in to Reginald’s relentless flirting.

Every so often Midge would cast her gaze towards Ginger, in part just to check in, but because she wanted to brag about being courted by a looker like Reginald. "Find me when you’re ready to spend some time with more exciting people” Ginger told Midge when the two girls split ways, and that was exactly what she did.

“So you said you were an actress?” Reginald cocks a curious eyebrow at Midge, leaning in closer to hear her over the music. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, which was refreshing to her.

Midge laughs at the notion. “You’re looking at the University Theater Department’s favorite first understudy.” She shrugs and takes a hearty swig of her beer.

“Wow, I’m honored to be with such esteemed company” Reginald jokes, giving a megawatt smile.

“If you must know,” She starts, laughter bubbling up in her throat as she continued, “Opening night of the Spring Musical, I came to the rescue when the leading lady came down with a bad case of mono. Blew the house down and received the only standing ovation!” Midge gives a comical bow when Reginald starts clapping.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight, Miss Big-Shot Actress” Reginald laughs, lacing his fingers with hers as their hands sat on top of the sticky covered bar. “You know, all the big time actresses have really nice headshots. Glamour shots, they’re called — It’s what you send to casting directors when you audition for the movies” His thumb massages the back of Midge’s hand as he explained.

“They’d never put me in the movies” Midge looked down at her feet to avoid Reginald’s eyes when she felt the heat creep up her neck as she blushed.

He hooks a finger under Midge’s chin, tilting her face towards him and forcing her to maintain eye contact with him, like he wanted to make sure that his words would mean something and be remembered. “You’re beautiful, Midge. Don’t deny it to yourself.” She doesn’t refute it, shy away from it, or say thank you; Midge nods to herself, like she was trying her best to process it and take his words to heart.

The conversation flows easier as Midge continued to emerge from her shell, but as soon as she was feeling more confident, there was Ginger waving wildly at her from the other side of the bar. The girl gestured towards the exit, hoping that she was good enough at playing charades to convert her message to Midge. It worked of course, because Ginger was flapping her arms very obviously so it was impossible for Midge not to notice. Reginald was talking animately about a debate that sparked up in his psychology intro course, but Midge was only really half-listening, as she was more concerned with how she was supposed to interject and remove herself from the conversation.

“A-are you…?” Reggie breaks from his long-winded monologue and picks up on Midge’s hesitation, turning over his shoulder just as Ginger whips around as to not be noticed. Midge feels her face heat up with embarrassment, but Reginald acts cooly. “Duty calls?” He questions with a chuckle and another knee-buckling smirk.

“Something like that…” Midge bites at her lip as she stands up and smooths down the back of her skirt. Folding her jacket over her arm, she grabs a dry napkin from the bar and writes down her phone number with her brown eyeliner pencil. “You should call me sometime…” Midge blushes as she looks up at the tall man standing in front of her.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, not having been used to this kind of confidence radiating from the young woman. For most of their conversation it had been Reginald who had been putting in the extra effort, asking Midge questions about school and about the theater program. “I’d like that.” He quips as the short-haired girl gazes up at him hungrily. “Maybe I can help you out with those headshots.” he gestures to the camera bag at his side.

A blush raised to Midge’s cheeks when he hands her over his ballpoint pen, prompting her to grab one of the square, white bar-napkins to write down her phone number. “You promise you’re gonna call?” She pulls her hand away a little.

“Scout’s honor” Reginald smirks, holding up the three-finger salute. “Hell, I’ll even call you right when I get home just so you know I’m the real deal.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Reginald!” Midge quips with a coy smile, leaning to give the young man a final kiss on the cheek before retrieving Ginger and retreating to the car.

—

[11:30PM] KLUMP and LOPEZ exit tavern, return to residence at approximately [11:40] Fellow resident of the home, MELODY VALENTINE, confirms talking to both KLUMP and LOPEZ in the kitchen following their return. Both women recount KLUMP taking an unknown phone call.

—

The ride back to the small house on the Healy Avenue was quiet, with Ginger gabbing on incessantly about the boys she was getting on with that evening, about how some showboat boy with a football scholarship was going to escort her to her sorority formal. Midge nodded along politely, knowing when to appease her friend with quiet affirmations though she wasn’t really listening. She nabs a sleek, long cigarette from the pack in Ginger’s purse and lights it up, ignoring the curious stare she receives, never really having been a smoker. Exhaling a dainty plume of smoke out the car window, Midge can’t help but ruminate on the events of her day: First Kevin gets over his own pride and offers her the lead in the musical, and then at the bar that same evening she was lucky enough to catch the attention of a person as grand as Reginald. Midge couldn’t help but feel as if something was different this time, it was like he saw her, saw her for what she truly was. She pulls a little too hard on the cigarette and sputters out a cough. It humbles her a little bit, pulls her back to the reality where she was just a small-town understudy and he was another good looking boy who only chatted her up because he was too drunk to know better. Midge tosses the butt out the window of the moving car and focuses her gaze on the grid-work of light poles and electrical towers, fully convincing herself that she would never hear from Reginald again.

When the two girls pull up in front of the household, they exit the car quietly and stumble inside through the side door of the house, which led through Midge’s basement bedroom. The two girls are in a fit of giggles as they make their way to the main floor of the house, both in dire neat of some carbs to soak up the alcohol. Midge peeks around the corner stealthily, not wanting to disturb or wake up one of her other three housemates in case they had called in an early night. Things were going all fine and good until Ginger’s heel gets the best of her and her ankle rolls, twisted up in the carpet. She lets out a small yelp as she falls to the side and grabs the wall for support to recover. Midge claps a hand over her mouth when she hears a doorknob turning from down the hall.

“What kind of trouble are you two getting in now?” Another housemate, Melody Valentine asked, clearly irritated at the disturbance. Pulling her tortoiseshell glasses from their resting place on the tip of her nose, Melody takes in the sight of Midge: the pink tint to her cheeks, the glimmer in her eye, “What’re you all smilin’ about?” She questions again with no detectable malice laced in her tone like before.

“Our girl Midge met a boy tonight and he was a real looker, definitely puts Moose to shame,” Ginger hiccuped.

Her comment is received with a pointed look from Midge, leading Ginger to grimace as she limped back up the hallway to get herself a glass of water. The phone rings suddenly and the intake of Midge’s breath is audible. It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. She had convinced herself that she was just another girl that Reggie would forget by morning. The phone lets out three more sharp bleats before Midge hesitantly reaches her hand for the receiver;

“Hello?” She whispers, her throat feeling dry from anxiety of it all.

“Scout’s Honor,” It takes Midge a minute to put the pieces together, but she knows it’s Reginald, the same smooth-talking boy she had met a few hours earlier. He promised to call her and he did. “I’m a man of my word, what can I say?”

“Reginald” She’s beaming as she wraps the red plastic chord between her fingers as she presses the receiver even closer to her ear, wanting to be even closer to him. “I didn’t think you were gonna call…”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Reggie mutters like it was ludicrous that Midge would think otherwise.“You were the prettiest in the whole room tonight…The Actress. You’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Midge pinches herself because at that point, she can’t help but think that she was dreaming.

“Star power.”

There’s a beat of silence as Midge tries to regain her breath, heart swelling in her chest as she pressed the phone receiver even closer to her ear. “I don’t have star power” She denies it adamantly, not because she believed it, but so he would say it again.

“Yes, you do, Midge. You do.” Reggie’s breath is heavy through the phone receiver and it gives Midge chills down her spine. “You should take me up on that offer, I think I could capture you well”

“Your offer?” The beer and the anxiety have her thoughts swimming.

“Headshots, I’m a photographer. You were telling me all about how excited you are about the upcoming musical, imagine how great it would feel for you to open the programs and see a fresh, new picture of your pretty face” Reggie hums contently on the other line, like he too was picturing it, dreaming of it.

“It’s a nice offer and all, but if you’re half as good of a photographer as you say, there’s no way I could pay you” Midge can’t help but feel guilty, like she was waiting the time of the gorgeous man that she met earlier that evening. She was expecting the conversation to come to a halt after this, that Reggie would make some excuse as to why he needed to go, and it would be mutually understood that the longevity of their relationship was over as soon as the dial tone hit.

“If it means I get to see you again, Midge, I’ll do it for free” Reginald lays the charm on thick but Midge can’t help but happily lap it up. Something about the way he talked to her — about her— made her feel more confident, sultry even. It made her think that she was successful in reinventing herself. The old Midge wouldn’t let some stranger get her in front of a camera, she tells herself, pushing away her anxieties in hopes of a romantic new beginning.

“You want to see me again?” Midge questions, chastising herself immediately for her lapse in self-confidence.

“Definitely” Reginald promises.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Midge stutters over the line. “If you’re free maybe we can get a bite to eat — or something? If you’re busy that’s okay too, I understand.” The minute she asks the question she backtracks immediately, somehow still under the assumption that Reginald would refuse.

“I’m free” Reginald replies cooly. “What’s your address, I’ll come and pick you up. What d’you say, 4 o’clock?”

“5823 Healy” Midge says too quickly before recovering, “I’ll see you at four o’clock sharp, Reginald” She tries to sound flirtatious but isn’t sure if it’s working for her. The man on the other end of the line laughs, low and even, sending a wave of nervous butterflies taking flight.

“I’ll be there, Midge” He promises

“Scout’s Honor?” She posits, calling back to their little joke from earlier.

“Exactly”

—

Witnesses LOPEZ and VALENTINE confirm that after taking her phone call, KLUMP retreated to her basement bedroom of the residence, approx. [12:25 AM]. This is KLUMP’s last known whereabouts.

—

He only lived three blocks away. He liked it better that way, it gave him easier access to Midge, made it easier to watch the girl from afar. If this was going to work, he needed to stick to his comfort zone. This wouldn’t be like last time. It’s what he tells himself as he sits three rows behind her in the lecture hall, when he trails the girl as she walks across the University campus to meet up with her theater friend. He passes Midge casually and walks to deposit his check from work, but the girl was gone once he circled back.

Running into her at the Maple Club was a complete coincidence; or maybe by some stoke of luck it was fate. He knew that Midge would be receptive to his advances, though he figured he would have to work a lot harder.

He almost felt bad, that there would be no date for the two of them to go on.

When Reginald hung up the telephone, there was a sick sort of excitement pulsing deep through his veins. Adrenaline and anxiety were a deadly mixture. Well, not for Reginald…

He flits around the dimly lit garage as he gathers his materials. The black duffle bag was filled with everything Reggie thought he would need in this situation: wool ski mask, leather gloves, nylon stockings, bolt cutters, and red handled ice pick. A crowbar in case she tried to fight back. White clothesline rope, an orange electrical cord, strips of thinly torn bedsheets, and a pair of handcuffs as methods of restraining her. Trash bags and a small bottle of bleach for the clean-up process. Slinging the back over his shoulder, Reggie opens the garage door as quietly as possible. He starts the engine of the old VW Beetle and sits in silence as he made the quick drive three blocks over to the house on Healy Avenue. He kills the headlights when he turns into the courtyard. Parks three houses down as to not garner any suspicion. Before he exits the vehicle, Reggie pulls down the sun-visor and checks his reflection in the small mirror. He runs a hand through his hair and he smiles.

He pulls the ski mask over his head and everything changes and suddenly he is angry and he is invincible.

His footfalls are trained and quiet as he approaches 5823. He knows he’ll have to jump the gate. He knows that there’s a side door to Midge’s basement bedroom. When he hoists himself over the cherrywood fence he tries to be as quiet as possible, waiting an achingly long moment before making his next move, just in case a neighbor’s unsuspecting ear perked up at the noise. The bolt cutters work quickly and quietly through the metal padlock on the basement door, but again he waits to make his next move, trying his best to not wake up Midge (who he assumed was sleeping close by). Reggie moves at an agonizingly slow pace as he tries to open the basement door. Inch by inch he twists the rusty knob, the excitement bubbling now that he knew his favorite part was starting.

Who can be the quietest? It used to be Reggie’s favorite game to play as a child; taught to him by his mother as she held him close to her chest, the two of them sitting on the floor of the closet while his father went on another one of his drunken rampages.

It was a skill that proved to be helpful to many situations such as this, because by some grace of good luck he was inside the basement with the door closed behind him and somehow Midge hadn’t even moved a muscle. Reggie paused again, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He takes in the appearance of the room: the cold cement walls and the water heater, the bedsheets she hung over the grey in order to give the place a little more life. Christmas lights, the good kind, the ones that popped and cracked like glass when you threw them. Midge had pictures and posters, a stack of records that was collecting dust.

And then there was Midge.

She slept on her stomach with her long arms wrapped around her pillow, and Reggie can see her nightgown from where the duvet pulled up around her legs. He watches her worry-free features and feels a deep sort of pleasure knowing that she would never see this coming. He sets his duffle bag on the ground with a thump and Reggie’s heart drops to his stomach, thinking this would be the moment that he blew his cover. Heavy sleeper, Reggie noted as he heard nothing but a snore from Midge. He picks up a stray pillow from the floor and looks at it in his hands.

It was like she was making this too easy…

Reggie moved suddenly, shoving her sleeping body to flip her over onto her stomach; he wanted things to get a little bit more interesting. In wake of the movement Midge had become more alert now, eyes snapping open at the sudden weight present on top of her. With a quick movement, Reggie presses the feather pillow over her face before Midge could do so much as take a breath, not giving her a chance to scream. Her arms and legs flail wildly, trying to make contact with Reggie as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. One hand came down to grasp at her throat, the other still holding firm over the pillow. Midge’s nails claw at the old pillowcase, sharp enough to leave runs in the fabric. She manages to get a few good kicks in, and that made him angry. Reggie pulls his ice pick out of his back pocket and there’s a sick sound of skin splitting and blood gushing as he drives it deep into the flesh of her stomach. He repeats the motion again and again until he feels the languidness of her movements, can tell that the flight is almost over. Because when the fight was over, that’s when the real fun began…

#fic: lethal charm #reggie mantle au #midge klump au #reggie mantle fic #riverdale au #serial killer au #riverdale veggie fic #reggie mantle #midge klump #kevin keller #melody valentine #ginger lopez

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fresh-outta-jams · 5 years

Text

Plastic Heart - Part 2

Namjoon x Reader

Author: Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: I’m getting really excited, y’all. I just wrote part 4 and...oof I’m not ready and neither are you. Warnings: None? I promise it’s not creepy. Word Count: 1.2k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4

When you got home from your night class, iced coffee in hand, you knew you were in for a long night. You were only half a page into a four page paper and the rough draft was due tomorrow. You groaned and set your backpack on your bed, tugging your earbuds out of your ears. You adjusted your BTS coaster, which had a picture of Tae sipping tea on Ellen, before setting your drink on it.

You knew that no amount of caffeine could save you now.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” the groan came from the depths of your very soul as you collapsed into your (admittedly comfy) desk chair and opened your computer. God, you didn’t want to write this paper. You didn’t want to write this paperrrrrrr. Ughhhhh. Who had convinced you that going to college was such a good idea in the first place? Why hadn’t they told you there were so many papers involved? That had to be illegal.

Scrolling through your laptop, you were half-tempted to just watch BTS videos into the evening and call it a night, but you knew you couldn’t, not if you wanted to pass your writing class. “Come on, (Y/N), make Namjoon proud.” You muttered to yourself, opening up your school files instead of giving into temptation and watching BTS be the adorable dorks they were.

Sighing, you pulled on your headphones and put on your chill studying playlist, which consisted mostly of instrumental music and Mono. You took a long sip of your coffee and read over the little bit of your paper that you already wrote, trying to get back into it as best as you could, and then, with as much energy as you could muster, you dove in.

You were proud of yourself. You’d written a few pages and had only wanted to die a little bit. Of course, you’d had to lock up your phone to prevent yourself from getting distracted. Maybe it helped that every time you looked up at your shelf, there were seven idols sitting there...all those little eyes. It was hard to focus when you felt like you were being watched. Little did you know that statement actually held a little bit of truth…

Eventually, your iced coffee ran out, so you knew you’d need to turn to another source of caffeine quick if you had any hope of finishing this paper, so you took your empty cup and walked to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind you.

“She shouldn’t be up this late working on homework.” Namjoon sighed, looking at the door after you. “She has a morning class tomorrow.”

“You have her schedule memorized?” Jimin asked, looking at the group’s official unofficial leader.

“You don’t? We’ve been here for three weeks. It’s not like we have anything else to do in here.” Yoongi pointed out. It was true. In the three weeks since you’d gotten back from break, they’d found that you had very few activities to keep them occupied while you were gone and it wasn’t like they were in any position to ask you for more.

“I just worry about her is all...” Namjoon rationalized, mostly for his own sake. If he was being completely honest with himself, he knew there was no logical explanation for the warm feelings you made bubble up in his chest. He hadn’t explained it to the others just yet, but he was pretty sure there was no way they felt the same. Or maybe they did and he wasn’t as special as he thought he was.

“We all do.” Jin nodded. “But it’s her life, you know. It’s not like we can--”

Jin and the others all sat at attention in the position they were last in before you’d left once the door creaked open again. Perhaps their greatest blessing living in your bedroom was the fact that the hinges of your door were so squeaky they had a long warning before you ever came back in. If not, they were sure they would have been caught by now. It also helped that you still had your headphones on, so it was doubtful you would have heard anything anyway.

You slumped back into your chair with a cup of iced chai in your hand. By this point, the guys deduced you must have some cold brew in the fridge because there was no way you could have gone out and gotten some so fast.

When you got back into your rhythm, your fingers flew across your keyboard much faster. It was the home stretch now. Just a few more decently sized paragraphs and you’d be done with this blasted draft once and for all. Thank God it only had to be a rough draft, because the quality of your writing was...questionable to say the very least.

Half an hour later, you finally, finally finished, triple-saving your file before closing your computer. You exhaled a sigh of relief, turning off your music before grabbing some pajamas and going to the bathroom to shower for the night and go through your night routine.

The guys didn’t dare move or speak until they heard the shower come on in the other room, and even then, they didn’t budge until they heard your faint voice singing through the wall.

“Persona...who the hell am I? I just wanna go, I just wanna…”

Namjoon grinned. He was pretty sure the song you had playing was one of his. Well, he supposed it wasn’t HIS song. It was RM’s song. And once again, he had to remind himself that he and the real actual person Namjoon were two separate people and though you were infatuated with his real-life counterpart, that didn’t apply to him.

“We need to find some things to do around here when she’s gone.” Jungkook whined, laying back against the shelf. “I’m so booooored.”

“Well we’re plastic dolls that belong to a college girl. I didn’t think we’d be getting much playtime.” Yoongi chuckled, shrugging. It was what it was, he guessed. There was nothing any of them could do about it.

“I’m sure we could figure out a way to use her laptop while she’s gone. Watch some Netflix or something.” Hoseok began plotting, looking around the bedroom for other things to entertain them, but coming up pretty much empty. It didn’t make matters much better that they were the only toys or figures you owned. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you had some other toys for them to play with, to talk to. That wasn’t likely to change any time soon, though.

“We’ll figure it out, guys, don’t worry.” Namjoon tried to be reassuring. “It could be a lot worse.”

“Well,” Yoongi chuckled, “you’re not wrong.”

You came back into the room about half an hour later, barefaced and beautiful, only plugging in your phone and setting your alarm before you got into bed.

“Goodnight, guys.” You murmured sleepily. It took every bone in Namjoon’s little plastic body not to say ‘Goodnight’ back.

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @lilgaga98, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @kbowen9, @honig-bienchen, @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu

#armyofwriters #kpopwonderlandtag #btsprotectnet #plastic heart #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #disney au #toy story au #bts imagine #rm #rm x reader #rm imagine

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taesbetch · 5 years

Text

GameRequest #1

FOR @wickedblue34 Hybrid!AU

“I didn’t know, but even if I did, I would’ve done it anyway”

“let him touch you and I’ll kill him”

1,263 words (sorry its kinda shit :/ )

Yoongi had been living with you for almost a month. And though the month had been filled with tears and hardships, it had also been filled with joy and love. Now that the two of you were getting along perfectly you had decided it was time to get back out into the world and maybe find yourself a romantic partner.

Looking in the mirror you harshly rubbed your lips trying to get the red lipstick off – you knew it was a bad move but you wanted to look nice. A college had asked you out on a date and even though you had never looked at the male in that type of way but you figure it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.

As you flattened out the body suit you started to regret much more than just the red lipstick. Though you were sure your insecurities were getting the best of you, you couldn’t help but critic every aspect of yourself. The skin-tight outfit showed all your imperfections, your makeup was too extra, your hair was flat-

Letting out a groan you flung yourself on your bed wondering if you should just cancel the whole thing. Your hybrid walked in, his eyes narrowed as he looked at you in confusion.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked as you flailed your body around angrily.

“I’m going on a date and I just feel gross and disgusting” You whined. As you sat up you caught your reflection in the mirror, locking eyes with yourself. “I think I’m just gonna cancel” You sighed.

Yoongi looked at you in disbelief. Staring at him you waited for him to say something encouraging and lift your mood. Instead you were met with a cold silence.

“yer. Just cancel” He said mono-toned before leaving your room leaving you in shock at his response.

Now you really felt like shit.

Tears welled up in your eyes as your self-hatred grew.

Before you could wipe your tears and hide under your sheets you heard knocking at the front door. Dragging yourself up you walked over, trying your best to text your date and make up some excuse about how your hybrid is sick and you couldn’t go. However, it seemed that fate had other plans.

Opening the door, you damn near dropped your phone as you sent the message only to be met with your date holding flowers and wearing the brightest smile on his face.

“Chanyeol!”

“hey-“ he started before looking at his phone. You cringed as he read the message looking up at you and back at his phone every so often.

“i-I well. I guess I had the times messed up” you laughed nervously. Before you could explain what was happening chanyeols eyes connected with someone’s behind you.

“he looks fine to me” Chanyeol stated as you looked at Yoongi who death glared the man, his fists balled up and his eyebrows furrowed.

“How the fuck do you know that-“ Yoongi shot back.

Shhing your hybrid you gave yourself a mental ass whooping before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, the real reason is…I felt ugly. I feel ugly. I was getting ready and everything was a mess and I just kinda wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Like I don’t know if you can see the rubbed of lipstick, but I’ve literally been panicking for the past two hours” You explained. Your cheeks going red with embarrassment.

Chanyeol chuckled before smiling softly at you.

“well I think you look stunning”

You heard a gagging sound behind you but you ignored it as you smiled back. Well, there was no cancelling now.

“okay let me grab my stuff, wait in the car?” You suggested, biting your lip softly.

As chanyeol walked back to his car you turned to see Yoongi staring at you intensely. His ears were flat against his head as his body shook slightly. Worry was your first reaction but as you heard the soft growl coming from him it changed to confusion.

“Yoongi? What’s going on?” you asked slowly as you walked towards him, his eyes staying locked on yours.

“Y/n…Let him touch you, and ill kill him” he spoke, his growl shaking you to the core. You gulped as your eyes flickered away from him.

“I don’t like him. I don’t like him at all so if you let that disgusting human touch you ill end his life. understand?” he asks.

You nodded your head at him, biting your lip before grabbing your things and heading out.

---

Even though the first date went well, you couldn’t help but feel wrong. Something about yoongis tone that night was so serious you couldn’t shake it. When you came home he acted like nothing had ever happened.

Everything had gone back to normal, all of your attention was back on Yoongi and your phone had received no messages from chanyeol.

Yoongi lay on your lap as you stroked his head, humming a tune of a song you couldn’t fully remember. Soft purrs escaped the cat hybrid as his eyes stared closing, watching him fall asleep you smiled softly.

“The yard!” He said suddenly as he pushed him self up into a sitting position.

I can’t believe you wrecked these flowers and didn’t tell me” you huffed angrily as the two of you were knelt down in your front yard. Yoongi pouted as the two of you plucked the ruined flowers from the ground, you scouted closer to Yoongi so you could grab the rest of the roses. As your arm brushed his you felt him freeze up next to you.

“Y/n…”

Looking over you noticed how close he was. How soft his lips were and how gorgeous his features were up close. Blushing, you tried to turn back to the flowers but yoongis hand turned you face back towards his.

His eyes gazed at you lips before he moved his face towards yours.

As your lips touched you felt your body light up. The kiss was short and sweet. As Yoongi pulled away you yearned for more but let him go as the two of you stared at one another. Something so small and simple had changed the course of your relationship and neither of you knew what to do.

“um”

Surprised at the voice in front of you, you jumped back as you saw chanyeol standing a few meters away. suddenly the cloud nine feeling you were having was changed to sadness. Yoongi did not like chanyeol and it was certain. Was the kiss genuine?

“Chan-“ you started but he cut you off.

“it’s okay, I kinda figured something was going on with you two. I just want you to be happy so, I’ll leave you alone and…I wish you the best” He said a sad smile plastered on his face after his statement.

As chanyeol walked away a growing pit of sadness grew in your stomach, the feeling you were currently feeling for your hybrid was compromised with the situation.

“Did you know? Did you know he was there? Is tha-“ You stared as you backed away from yoongi, your assumptions clouding you feelings with doubt.

“I didn’t know, but even if I did, I would’ve done it anyway”

“I love you. and I want everyone to know that you’re mine” he said as he wiped a small tear that trickled down your cheek. you smiled softly before nodding your head, wanting to give this a go.

“im yours”

#yoongi drabble #bts drabble #yoongi one shot #yoongi hybrid au #yoongi hybrid oneshot #yoongi bts #min yoongi

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dp-pastandpresent · 5 years

Text

Past and Present - Prologue

Amity Park, 50 years ago.

"I can't believe we graduate tomorrow," Sarah Manson commented. She was sitting next to him on the bed, running her fingers through his jet black hair.

"And then, we go our separate ways," Danny sighed.

Danny and Sarah had known each other since pre-school, sharing play dates, holidays, math tests, and memories. And somewhere between the semester they had both spent with mono and the epic CAT test, they had finally decided to start dating. What seemed like a good decision at the time was slowly turning sour as their last summer before college approached.

Danny had plans to attend an academy for pilots, which was very far away from Amity Park, their hometown. Sarah, on the other hand, was going to attend a community college in town: she hated the idea of picking up and leaving. Both knew they would forever be friends, but being so far apart would never work for anything more.

"Well, at least we have all summer together," Sarah replied.

"And we're going to spend it doing all the things we love. Walking the beach, exploring the creepy buildings around town, and buying new records of course!"

Danny and Sarah were pretty good about spending time doing nothing, and one of their favorite nothings was the local record store. They often found themselves spending hours sorting through new and old tunes, looking for the most off the wall ones they could find.

"I don't know, Danny…, I mean nothing will ever beat that Elvis record we found last week!" Sarah said with a small smile as she reached over to her player.

Soon the tune of "Can't Help Falling in Love" began to fill the air.

They both looked at each other as they recognized the song, the words flooding their brains.

"Sarah! Danny! It's getting late, shouldn't you two be calling it a night?"

The voice of Sarah's mom was came from downstairs,breaking the trance and alerting them that time was up, and Danny needed to be heading home.

"We're about to graduate high school and the curfew is still nine o'clock. Man, Sarah, you need to get your parents on board with this dating thing…" Danny joked.

"Believe me, I've tried. But when you suddenly inherit money from toothpick wrappers, all sense of anything else kind of goes out the window…; like a ghost."

Sarah's family was rich. They hadn't always been, but about five years ago a rich uncle had died and left all his money to them. She had hoped nothing would change, but it all did. Her parents, who once took an interest in her life, now only cared about whether or not she was alive. She hated it, for she was always being controlled by her parents and their money. Which is why Danny was the only person outside of her family who knew: If anyone at school found out, she'd lose control of that also.

She and Danny were not the most popular people at their school, Casper High. They had a few other friends, mostly just so they wouldn't be alone at the lunch table, but that was it. They tried not to mind it most days – being popular was overrated – but Sarah sometimes wondered what would happen if she shared her family's secret.

"Well, I guess, and honestly my sister is probably worried sick anyway," Danny said, thinking of his sister, Jasmine, and how overprotective she could get.

"I'll call you tonight, when I get home, ok?"

He leaned in for one last goodbye kiss on the cheek before heading to the door. All Sarah could do was blush as he left, wishing this moment would never end.

'I sure am going to miss this…'

It was nine thirty and Danny still hadn't called. Sarah wasn't too worried: he had forgotten before, but after what they had done today, she was sure he wouldn't just forget.

So she waited.

Ten. Nothing.

Ten thirty. Nothing.

Eleven. Nothing.

She gave up around eleven thirty, when she herself was getting really tired.

'I guess I'll just talk to him tomorrow,' she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

—

Danny found himself wandering the streets of Amity Park, knowing that his curfew was a little bit later, and therefore he had time to just walk and think.

'Sarah. We've been together since preschool, and after graduation tomorrow, everything changes.'

'Why did I decide to go off to school in D.C. ? Why can't I just stay here, with her, forever?'

'Come on man! You've wanted to be a pilot longer than you've known her, and you know that you'll never forgive yourself if you give that up.'

At this point, Danny found himself in front of a local market, advertisements in the windows for meat sales, $1 milk, and discount flowers.

'There's always next year…' he thought as opened the shop door.

'And tonight, you need to take a chance.'

—

It was the last day of school. They were graduating tonight.

Sarah waited at her locker for Danny. She just needed to see him, to be sure he was okay. He never showed up.

'Danny, where are you?'

In class, the teachers called role. No Danny.

By the time the day had ended, Sarah was getting very worried. He hadn't been at school all day and she hadn't talked to him since yesterday afternoon. Where was he?

'Maybe he's just sick and needed to get better for graduation.'

After school, she decided she couldn't stand not knowing anymore, and headed straight for Danny's place.

Upon entering his house (something she was allowed to do without knocking, since the family knew her so well), she knew something was wrong.

His mom was standing in the kitchen, the phone to her ear.

"Yes, that's right. He's 5'8" and has jet black hair and blue eyes. Yes, officer, last night."

'That can't be good'.

Her heart sank. Where was Danny? Obviously not here.

"Yes, I understand you are working on other cases. Yes, the explosion, I saw the news. Any chance they're...?"

She paused.

"I see, well if you find anything please let me know."

His father was running around, a bunch of signs in his hands. Sarah couldn't manage to stop him, so she continued to look around.

Danny's older sister, Jasmine, was sitting on the couch, her mass of red hair leaning into her hands.

"Jazz., Jazz? Are you ok? Shouldn't you be in class?"

Jasmine was currently attending the local community college, and Sarah knew that it took a pretty big emergency to keep her from attending class.

The girl looked up at her brother's girlfriend, tears filling her eyes.

"No one knows, he's been gone since last night…" She leaned back into her hands, a sobbing sound coming from underneath.

Sarah took that as her cue to leave.

'Danny never made it home? Why didn't I worry more? What kind of person AM I?!'

Her heart sank. Danny, her Danny, was missing.

—

She had been looking forward to graduation all year. She and Danny both walking across that stage. She and Danny sharing that moment. She and Danny, finally ready to face the world. Now, however, she didn't feel like going.

Every hour since that afternoon, until she finally had to get ready for graduation, she had called his family to see if Danny had showed up. He never did.

Everyone was worried, but she was probably the most worried, maybe even more than his parents were.

She was now dreading graduation. Hearing his name but not seeing him walk across that stage…. They had both worked so hard for this, and now he was gone. In her mind, she kept hoping he'd show up, but in her heart she knew he wouldn't. He was gone, and her life would never be the same.

Weeks passed. Police gave up, determining that Danny was likely dead. The night in question had led to several suggestions, from a few local fires and kidnappings to a bigger explosion at a nearby store. Officers assumed he had stopped off at the store on his way home, but no definite evidence came to light.

His parents were in mourning, wishing they knew what had happened, or at least that they'd had one last chance to say goodbye.

Jasmine had retreated to her room, not wanting to be disturbed as she tried to figure things out. She and Danny had been really close, sharing so much, that it affected her harder even than it did her parents.

Sarah was devastated. The last thing they had discussed was her parents' fortune, and looking back she knew what she should have said instead. What she should have done.

Dressed in black, umbrella in hand, she approached the tombstone with tears in her eyes and an iris in her hands: yet another favorite thing of theirs'.

"Danny. I love you."

She kissed the flower and placed it on this stone.

It read:

"Daniel Fenton. Gone too soon."

—

"Oh dear girl. I wish I didn't have to hurt you through all of this. But please understand, it's for the greater good."

Floating above a sea of stones, the figure looked down upon the blank one, waiting for the precise moment to turn.

A distant clock struck twelve as the figure went from very young to very old within seconds, pointing his staff at the blank stone.

"Daniel Fenton. We will meet again”

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #phanfiction

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krystynawong-blog · 5 years

Text

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yoosungshoodie · 7 years

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Mono No Aware — 物の哀れ

FANDOM: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder CHARACTERS: Eisuke Ichinomiya/MC WORD COUNT: 2216 GENRE: Angst WARNINGS: Illness, pregnancy. AUTHOR’S NOTE: Part one of two. Dedicated to @kiserusmoke and @catchthespade, I should really be working on my ongoing fics but Shauna challenged me to write in a tradeoff since I was having a horrible writer’s block.

Mono no aware (物の哀れ) 1. the awareness of impermanence 2. the particular sadness or sensitivity regarding the passage of time 3. understanding the transience of life

Eisuke and her want a baby and get exactly that; but no good things come without a price.

When she drums her fingers over the top of his palms in the morning to wake him up, he thinks it’s one of the strangest things; the women he loved before were far less easily appeased. He doesn’t think much of their mornings besides the loving that comes with it, the warm coffee that emcomapasses the room and the quiet chatter. She tells him about her problems and he listens intently, even if his tone remains dipped in disinterest.

He’s never going to be accustomed to her, not ever. While his work ethic sometimes betrays him, his days are spent with her in mind, during meetings and presentations and phone calls and everything he could be doing. There are days when they’re troubled that he disregards his work entirely to think about her–a bad habit he’s picked up from being lovesick. Eisuke tells himself that he needs to do great things and it’s become more for her nowadays than to prove that there wasn’t a gaping hole in his heart.

Here are some things he knows:

There is an unsettled longing that satisfies itself whenever he’s so much as in her presence. He wakes up to his bed smelling like her and he thinks it is far better than any kind of perfume that was worn by the other women that came and went.

He is aware she watches him at night with wide eyes and utter adoration. He wants to tell her he’s sorry for all the times he’s been cold when she looks at him as if he had hung the stars and moon in the sky. While he pretends to be asleep, a hand that doesn’t belong to him caresses his cheek. Once, she tells him, “I hope you love me as much as I love you. I know it’s hard for you to be honest with your feelings.”

He doesn’t get that much sleep for the rest of the night.

When she wakes up, he’s the one that makes her coffee this time.

Words come easier to him when they’re less about his feelings and more about what he knows. He knows things like suits and meetings and graphs and presentations more than he does about the discomfort in his chest when he sees her with other men. For someone so precise, he’s entirely lost when it comes to his own emotions.

There are silent apologies that die in his throat when he’s cold with her; he doesn’t understand love like Baba and the others do. He secretly wants to apologize every time he knows he’s being too demanding of her and when he says things senselessly; it takes him a while to understand that the truth did not need to be brought to light at times.

He finds this out at first when he swiftly brings up Dubai and the mess that comes with it. Sporting a bullet wound, he reminds her that it would be odd if nothing happened at all while they were in England, and succinctly reminds her of Dubai. The fallen and teary look that crosses her features paired with a quiet resignation of words is enough to remind himself to never bring up Dubai again. He doesn’t.

In his heart of hearts, he wishes somewhere that he could be what she deserved. Takahiro was someone deserving of her; they could’ve been disgustingly normal and happy together if she had chosen him. And yet she didn’t.

So when she chooses him, he vows to know everything about her. He wants to know her and by consequence, know his emotions as well. While being out of control had been a new experience for him, he tells himself he wouldn’t mind, because it was her. He’d do anything for her.

And he has to give her credit, for dealing with someone like him. Eisuke knows and had vaguely calculated his probability of finding someone was slim. He understands he’s hard to love not because he can’t, but because he doesn’t know how. A fumbling fool in the name of love made embarrassments and apprehensiveness common; another thing he wasn’t used to. It works out though when he has the ability to keep a straight face through anything.

Eisuke understands that he’s indebted to her and he understands there’s only one thing to do: plan the rest of his life with her.

So he envisions great things, like twins or maybe a son who’s just as much as a brat as he is, champagne on anniversaries and promises kept throughout the years. Seeing her bloom from a fumbling hotel worker to a queen by his side was a sight; the possibilities with someone like her, deemed ordinary by everyone else, was endless. Thankfully, it’s her who brings up the notion of children first, despite it being a complete accident.

It was seldom that Eisuke had free time. The days he did were always spent with her, however, doing whatever mundane thing she wished for considering she had spent most of his work time at his beck and call.

This resulted in them walking hand in hand down a boardwalk, her mouth half filled with a pretzel he had bought her (they argued over who was going to pay briefly) and in the middle of a debate sparked from a screaming toddler.

“I’m not saying that kids aren’t annoying.”

“And they are.”

“So if we had a kid, would you call them an annoyance?”

“…Getting bold, aren’t we?”

It took her a moment to understand what he meant with that smirk, and her face lit up a glowing red when she realized what she’d done.

“Well! I mean, th-that’s just assuming you know… that we’d…” When her voice trailed off he couldn’t help himself from gripping her hand a little tighter, eyes wandering towards the path ahead of them while they had slowly made their way back to the Tres Spades.

“Of course we would. Where else am I going to get an heir of the Ichinomiya group from? Unless…”

“That’s not funny.” She swatted his arm defensively.

“It absolutely is.”

He understood that he loved her more than anyone he’d ever encounter, and when he had married her, he was aware that he could never love anyone besides her. In regards to his former lovers, he always wished he could pick apart pieces of them to keep and others to disregard; and with her, he wanted all of her. Every fiber and atom had to be his, and he wouldn’t dare leave anything out from her.

“Well, thank you.”

He stared at her quizzically, a brow knit upwards. “For what?”

“For letting me be the one to have the heir of the Ichinomiya Group.” She said ‘heir of the Ichinomiya Group’ as if she was reading off an expensive item from a menu.

“Well. I have high expectations of you.”

When she saw a blush settle itself over his features, he had gone out of his way to make a point that it was simply the sunset.

“And just what are we thinking bout so early in the morning?” He mumbled into her ear as he stood behind her, fingers moving up and down her sides.

She had been standing in front of the mirror to examine the vibrant hickeys he had left on her after a very long night together, and Eisuke found himself admiring his own work while he watched her. She was nothing short of stunning, and she was his.

“N-Nothing.” Her words tumbled out breathless, all adoration and love as a hand snaked around her waist and lips descended on her neck, intent on leaving another spot. A familiar smirk worked its way over to his lips while she let out an involuntary moan.

Known best to himself, responsibilities were important. They both had obligations that they needed to attend to and Eisuke enjoyed his work extensively. However, when it came to her, all sense of that flew out the door in replacement of spending time with her. His resolve was as shoddy as a teenager’s if she had any involvement in it.

And thus he remained relentless as a free hand began to glide lower and lower, until his fingers were placed over her underwear. That same hand had began rubbing itself rather mercilessly towards a particularly sensitive spot of hers, and the reaction he got out of her from that alone was enough to decide their plans for the rest of the morning. He knew he was being selfish at the moment.

“Ah… we can’t… I have to go to work soon…” She had murmured hoarsely, and Eisuke paid no consideration to her words as he turned her and set her on top of their bed.

He found himself on top of her, both hands to the sides of her head as she looked up at him entirely lust-ridden. Never change, he thought to himself as he inspected her.

“The only work you need to do,” His words trailed off as his lips began trailing down her neck again, a hand yanking the strap of her pajama downwards. “Is to satisfy me.”

The look of complete debauchery on her when he looked up was almost enough to make him lose his train of thought. She always looked so beautiful to him when her eyes turned glassy with pleasure and her cheeks flared a particular red he had never seen on another woman. He was reminded again that he was never to let her go or face his own demise as well.

“After all, the best part about having a baby is making one.”

It was a Thursday, and the love of his life was seven weeks pregnant. He had sighed and sifted through his memories while having a moment to himself between paperwork, twirling around the idea of a miniature her crawling about the penthouse.

It would be a good idea to start baby-proofing the place , Eisuke thought to himself as he inspected the office vaguely. The future had seemed so grandiose and large even in a way he couldn’t handle when he thought about it, and he was closed to getting himself carried away before the shrill ring of a phone had crash landed him back into reality.

“Eisuke?” Her voice was trembling, something that rarely happened. It had taken Eisuke nine seconds to consider all the worst case scenarios that would flood his mind, and he could already picture the watery smile that always placed itself on her features when she was upset. He had half the muscle memory to reach out and crush her against his chest, but she wasn’t there at the moment.

Calm down.

“What is it?” He knew something was wrong. His brain was screaming it, despite the silence.

Calm down.

“There’s— I’m coming home right now. Are you busy?”

Calm down.

She was holding back tears, he noted sharply as he sat up in his seat. The paperwork could be done with later, the meeting in three hours and twenty six minutes could be pushed back for tomorrow, and Kenzaki could handle whatever came up if Eisuke had sounded irritated enough over the phone.

“I finished work early.” He lied swiftly as he shut his laptop and left his office, a free hand nervously placed on the nape of his neck. He didn’t need her to feel bad about taking up his time; he would’ve been too nervous to do any real work for the rest of the day anyways.

“Okay. I’ll be home soon.”

She was trying to be strong and he could tell by the strength in her voice before she hung up, which concerned him more than it should—the scenarios that ran through his mind were nothing short of morbid and awful, but all plausible.

He ran through the ideas like he ran through his talking points before a meeting. Her mother died, her father died, she was having an affair, the baby wasn’t his, she lost the baby, this and that and every awful thought he keeps to himself comes flooding to mind in the five minutes he counts (by the seconds) for her to come home.

He saw her walk in at four minutes and forty two seconds with her fingers trembling so much he could see it from across the room.

“What’s wrong?” It sounded more like a statement than a question. He wasted no time making his way over to her, a hand moving to press against the back of her head and another against her waist as he pulled her to him.

She was crying, and he could hear every sniffle and feel every shaky exhale when he held her.

Say it. Just say it. Whatever it is, we can work with it. He didn’t have it in him to speak.

“…Cervical cancer.”

He didn’t so much as breathe. “What?”

She took no consideration to answer him, instead finding herself crumpled against his chest with loud sobs that almost seemed childlike considering the intensity of it.

For once, Eisuke Ichinomiya had been cornered in such a helpless way he can only remember this feeling vaguely from his childhood. It didn’t settle with him well. The only thing he could do in that moment was to hold her.

#eisuke ichinomiya #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kbtbb fanfiction #kbtbb eisuke #voltage inc #ahahaha

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peachuas · 7 years

Text

I was tagged by the lovely @hamzzikwon ♡

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people!

THE LAST:

1. Drink: water 2. Phone call: mom 3. Text message: a friend 4. Song you listened to: mono - pure as snow 5. Time you cried: like two days ago

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: no 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: no 8. Been cheated on: no 9. Lost someone special: yes 10. Been depressed: yes 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: no

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: All the different shades of blue!

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: yes 16. Fallen out of love: no 17. Laughed until you cried: yes 18. Found out someone was talking about you: no 19. Met someone who changed you: yes 20. Found out who your friends are: yes 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: no

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: most of them 23. Do you have any pets: yes, 2 dogs,1 cat. 24. Do you want to change your name: probably 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: I don’t even remember :( 26. What time did you wake up: 8:20 am 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: watching Hey Arnold LOL 28. Name something you can’t wait for: nothing I guess... 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: like one hour ago 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: a lot of things 31. What are you listening right now: half moon - dean 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: myself 34. Most visited Website: youtube

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME

35. Mole/s: one below my lower lip 36. Mark/s: I have a litte scar on my cheek, next to my nose 37. Childhood dream: 38. Haircolor: black 39. Long or short hair: long 40. Do you have a crush on someone: no 41. What do you like about yourself: the fact that I always love to learn new things 42. Piercings: ears 43. Bloodtype: A+ 44. Nickname: moni, momo, moncia (a missppeling of my name my friends always intentionally do) 45. Relationship status: single 46. Zodiac: taurus 47. Pronouns: she / her 48. Favorite TV Show: hmmm my favorite show at the moment is Hey Arnold (I’m rewatching it after maaaaaany years) 49. Tattoos: none 50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: none 52. Hair dyed in a different color: nope 53. Sport: volleyball 55. Vacation: I always like to stay at home, I’m skind of a hermit. 56. Pair of trainers: yes

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: i want to eat carpaccio rn, i love it so much 58. Drinking: water 59. I’m about to: eat something, I’m hungry 61. Waiting for: nothing 62. Want: to be more responsible 63. Get married: no 64. Career: Business administration in tourism resources (that’s a long name), & Graphic design.

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: hugs 66. Lips or eyes: eyes 67. Shorter or taller: taller 68. Older or younger: older 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: stomach)? 71. Sensitive or loud: sensitive 72. Hook up or relationship: relationship 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: kind of both

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: no 75. Drank hard liquor: no 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: yes 77. Turned someone down: yes 78. Sex on the first date: no 79. Broken someone’s heart: I don’t think so 80. Had your heart broken: yes 81. Been arrested: no 82. Cried when someone died: yes 83. Fallen for a friend: no

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: probably 85. Miracles: no 86. Love at first sight: no 87. Santa Claus: no 88. Kiss in the first date: no 89. Angels: no

OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: - 91. Eye color: brown 92. Favorite movie: La Vita è bella

I’m tagging some new mutuals/beautiful accounts ♡ : @dyodks @maeurn @rappershua @wongyuhan @roweun @beautifulshuas @mingyiu @softjimns @jejublr @shininghoshi @delishua @catmochi @vernonismyeggtart @junshva @5x8ft (oooh ofc you don't have to do this if you don't want!)

#i needed a break and this was so entertaining to do!!#thank you so much for tagging me betty<3 #tags #about me

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[ Author’s Note : 物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief. But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful.

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact?

“I’ve offered to, before. He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair, I thought playing with the tiny ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal.

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now. An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful.

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his.

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either?

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll.

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up.

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary, I couldn’t work miracles.

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “ I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.”

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well, I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either.

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct. Yugyeom smirked, winking at me.

I shuddered in disgust.

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle.

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well.

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?”

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?”

I blinked.

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this.

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in.

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off.

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.”

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me.

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.”

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in.

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated.

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually.

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss.

“I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.”

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned.

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered.

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?”

He was quiet for a second.

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss .

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good. I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway.

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?”

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize,

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break.

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid.

“You’re here.” He said blankly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine. She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic.

He hesitated before shaking his head.

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go.

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.”

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.”

Oh, God.

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even.

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish .

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive.

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in.

We were seated at the table, dinner was done.

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation.

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals. And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance.

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck.

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..? Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name?

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

If anything it made it harder for him to move on.

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized that this is what they wanted.

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge.

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it.

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned.

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him?? What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted.

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips.

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end.

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over.

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.”

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too blind to see it.

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently.

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.”

She gaped at me.

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ”

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight.

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked.

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...”

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older .

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled.

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly.

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out.

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him.

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked.

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped.

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again.

He took a deep breath and went on.

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.”

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw.

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was.

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.”

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened.

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened.

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.”

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face.

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it. .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it.

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat.

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh? is the guilt finally catching up?”

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side.

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.”

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side.

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ”

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..” I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh. “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have a name and you should remember it. "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.”

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again? Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.”

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable.

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle.

Coward.

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?”

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted.

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down.

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped .

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs.

It made me laugh.

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck.

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ”

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.” he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between.

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock.

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us.

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference.

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.”

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace.

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me.

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out.

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on. “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.”

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me.

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong.

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me.

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different.

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between.

i was exhausted.

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day.

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him.

What now?

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm.

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother. I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about.

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ” He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me.

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way.

For now I could only accept them at face value.

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor.

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that.

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.”

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless.

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery.

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway.

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place.

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-”

“Its her birthday.”

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low.

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard.

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated.

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.”

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing.

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently.

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name.

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?”

He stared at me.

“I want to go alone.” He said finally.

I hesitated.

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him.

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often .

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed.

“Alright... Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her. “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards.

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts.

I would be in the car anyway. By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago.

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container.

On a whim I moved to the cupboard in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open.

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him.

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue.

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?”

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves.

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact.

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him.

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm.

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake .

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat.

“I’ll do it.”

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully.

I smiled and zipped the bag shut.

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet.

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there.

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him.

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms.

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive.

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang.

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning.

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat.

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101 now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt.

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy.

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me.

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain.

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes.

it wasn’t that hard.

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way.

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use.

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds.

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders.

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place.

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done.

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore.

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.”

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically.

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “ I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.”

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch.

“No.. No I’m fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.? “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again.

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually,

“I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly.

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise.

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something.

Partly because that would be so inconvenient.

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened.

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.”

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans.

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice.

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked.

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed.

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly.

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse.

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows.

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently.

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts.

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable.

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me.

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes.

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully.

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.”

His face shifted into a frown.

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me.

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.”

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.”

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial.

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare.

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little.

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head.

“Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.”

I gaped.

“Months?”

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?”

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye.

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted.

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table.

Jungkook blinked.

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away.

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character.

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun.

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way.

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself.

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