#My heart can’t bear his dorkiness

[fuckmesaitama]

Why

Do

I

Want

To

Hug

This

Dork

So much

My heart 😭😭😭

[strawberryspence]

ceilings, plaster, can’t you just make it move faster?

Steddie Week / Day 2: Fluff and Angst ( @steddie-week )

-

There’s beeping on his side as Steve slowly gains consciousness. He can hear birds chirping, and the trees dancing against the wind. Which was weird, because he remembers closing the window last night.

“Pst! Steve!”

Steve’s eyes shot open, jumping out the bed to reach for his spiked bat when he sees Eddie’s head wedged between his bedroom windows. He looks like a damn burglar.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Steve drops his bat, rushing to open the windows wider, “Eddie? What the hell are you doing?!”

Eddie jumps clumsily inside the bedroom, “Like a ninja!” Steve bites down laughter. If he looked as dorky as this man, he doesn’t even know why Nancy dated him.

“Why are you here?”

Eddie pokes his ribs, “Are you really asking me that?”

Steve swats his hand away, “Yes. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask when you’ve just been woken up by a man who climbed your roof.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sings, “We have a date.”

Steve gapes at him, “What? Was that today?”

“Yes.” Eddie laughs. There’s no hint of anger or remorse in his voice, “Go on, get ready for the day. I’ll make you some brunch.”

Rushing to get ready, Steve showers and dresses up in his favorite Levis and polo. His hair also doesn’t take him more than 5 minutes to sculpt. It’s like he’s having the luckiest damn day ever. When he finally walks out of his room, the smell of waffles and coffee spreads through his senses.

Steve sits on the counter, “I am sorry for forgetting about our date, Eds. It completely slipped my mind.”

Eddie laughs, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him, “No worries, sweetheart. You’re still healing, you deserve all the rest.”

There’s a pause as Steve squints at him.

“Healing? Healing from what?”

Eddie shakes his head, “None of that now. Eat so we can go to the carnival.”

“Carnival?” Steve perks up at the mention of a carnival, “There’s a carnival in town?”

Eddie nods, his mouth stuffed with a forkful of waffle. Steve’s always wanted to have a carnival date, but the last time the carnival was in town, Steve was too busy trying to stay alive in an underground Russian bunker.

“Yep! So get some food in you and we’ll go. We’re burning daylight here.” Eddie urges him to eat.

Steve laughs, “Slow down. The carnival won’t leave.”

Steve takes the first bite of his waffle and literally moans on the spot. The waffle melts on his mouth, a combination of sweet and soft sensations bursting.

“Oh my god.” He moans, stuffing himself another bite, “Did you freaking make this?!”

Eddie smirks, “Yes.”

“Why the hell is it so good?”

“It’s my mom’s recipe. I only pull it out for the pretty boys.”

Steve chokes on a bite, his cheeks flushing, “So I am just another pretty boy now, huh?” Eddie cackles at his reaction, pushing a glass of water his way.

There’s a twinkle of warmth in his eyes, and a smile so soft Steve knows for sure it’s only for him, “The prettiest boy.”

-

The carnival was— perfect. It had everything Steve has ever wanted to try. In a sense, it’s like everything was catered for his pleasure.

Steve looks around in wonderment, as people walk and move past them, “Dude, we should’ve bought the kids!”

There’s a sharp pain in his chest as he remembers the kids, but it's gone as quick as it came. Steve clutches his chest, chasing the pain.

Eddie looks at him, hands immediately wrapping around him in concern, “Stevie? Are you okay?”

“No. I— I just—“ He tries to straighten up and he feels… nothing, “Nothing. I think my heart skipped a beat or something.”

Eddie smirks at him, but his eyes soft with worry, “Sweetheart, I haven’t even held your hand.”

Steve feels his face heat up, “Oh, shut up.”

“Well. Which one do you want to do first? Ride some rides? Play some games?” Eddie pulls him by the hand, intertwining their hands together as they walk around the park, “You know what, I’ll win you one of those bears from one of the games!”

They spend the next few hours just playing and riding rides. They tried numerous carnival foods that Steve was never allowed to try as a kid. It's the first time Steve has actually gone to a carnival and had fun. Eddie’s loud and crass and wonderful in so many ways. He has tricks for game after game, and even if he’s scared on some rides, he still rides for Steve.

It’s the perfect date.

“Eds, you can stop trying. You’re wasting your money.” Steve whispers as Eddie hands more money to the carnival personnel.

“I am going to get you that damn bat toy and I won’t stop until my wallet is empty.” Eddie winks at him, as he squats and stares at the barrel of the water gun.

Eddie concentrates intensely as he tries to get the water to shoot on the hole. The personnel look bored as he watches them, but Steve only has eyes for Eddie. There’s pure determination on his face, squinting hard so he can finally win the damn bat toy. Steve shouldn’t have should interest on it to begin with.

The lights above it start lighting up one by one, Eddie just has to reach the top and he can finally get the stuffed toy. Steve doesn’t even realize that they won because he was only staring at Eddie.

“Jesus Christ! Finally!” Eddie grabs the bat toy from the personnel, hopping up and down with joy. His lips stretched into a huge smile, and his eyes bright with excitement.

Steve wishes he could stay in this moment forever. In this light and sparkling moment with this person that he could love— this person he might already love.

“One bat stuffed toy for your majesty.” Eddie kneels one knee, and presents the stuffed toy like it’s a bar of gold. Steve plays along, nodding ceremoniously, before taking the bat into his hand.

It’s not a bar of gold, not a crown, not a diamond. But it’s Steve’s most prized possession.

A personnel walks past them, shouting in a megaphone, “One more hour till closing!”

“The carnival’s closing?” Steve asks as Eddie straightens up.

“Apparently. You want to do one last ride?”

Steve shrugs, “Sure. I think I have…” He pauses, tries to think of what he had planned for tomorrow. Weirdly enough, he can’t think of anything.

Eddie pulls him along, “There’s one more ride I want to visit before the sun sets.”

As they walk past the stalls, the lights start flickering open. Bright, colorful lights start surrounding them. It’s not dark enough yet, but Steve knows it’ll be beautiful in the dark.

“Here!” They enter the line for the ferris wheel, which was surprisingly empty, “Come on!"

The personnel lets them in on one of the carts, smiling respectfully as he locks it, “See you on the other side.”

The wheel starts moving, slowly but surely and soon enough, they’re on the top. From where Steve is sitting he watches as people walk around the carnival like tiny little ants. The sky starts changing its colors. The bright blue, turning into a softer orange and pink.

“It’s beautiful.” Steve whispers, breathless as he sees the entirety of his hometown.

Eddie chuckles quietly beside him, reaching for his hand and taking into his, “It is.” Steve turns to him and catches his eyes on him.

The ride stops as they arrive at the top. The cart moves ever so slightly, and it feels like someone lulling him to sleep. Steve lets his head fall on Eddie’s shoulder as he watches the scene in front of him.

“Did you have fun today?” Eddie asks, his thumb softly caressing Steve’s hand.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs in content, “I think I’m going to bring Robin here tomorrow.”

A sharp pain stabs him again, the same one he felt earlier. Steve jolts up, as he clutches at his chest again, massaging it slowly, “What the hell is that?”

“I think it’s time, Steve.” Eddie says, there’s a hint of sadness in his voice.

Steve turns to him, confused, “Time for what?”

Eddie moves closer, cupping his jaw into his hand, “Time for you to wake up.”

“I am awake.” Steve pulls away, narrowing his eyes.

He shakes his head, “No, sweetheart. You have to wake up.”

The beeping is back, and Steve swings his head around to see where the sound is coming from. He gasps as he looks down at the ground, all of the people are gone now. It’s just— It’s just him and Eddie, on top of the ferris wheel.

“What’s happening?” Steve demands.

Eddie tilts his head, “You don’t remember?”

Steve shakes his head, as Eddie takes his hand again, “Here. Close your eyes.”

He gulps, but obeys. The beeping subsides.

Eddie starts talking, “We went back to the Upside Down, to finish what we started and then—“

Lights start flashing in his eyes, like thunder striking in the dark. Vines strewn everywhere in the ground.

Steve remembers screaming, lots of screaming. He remembers running in front of Robin. He remembers using all his strength, he remembers killing a monster, he remembers using his body as a shield. He remembers— he remembers pain. All around his body, like sharp pain, heightened a thousand times over. He remembers hearing sobbing and Robin begging him to stay.

He tried.

Steve gasps awake. “Robin? Is Robs okay?”

Eddie grins at him fondly, “Yes, sweetheart. Robin is alright.”

Steve looks down at his hands, “Am… I dead?” His eyes widened in realization, “Eddie? Are you dead?”

“I am not sure, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugs, “I don’t remember a lot either. I just woke up here and then— I remembered that before we went to fight Vecna, you…” Eddie laughs, his cheeks flushing, “You asked me on a date. To go to a carnival. So here I am.”

The beeping is back, and it’s louder than ever. There’s a gust of wind that brings a soft whisper, “Dingus. Please.”

“Robin’s calling me.” Steve whispers.

“I know.” Eddie says back, “You have to go back.”

“We have to go back. Together.”.

Eddie smiles at him, but it’s small and painful and Steve hates it. “I can’t hear any beeping, Stevie.”

His lips quiver, Steve starts shaking his head, “No. No. We have to go together or I am not leaving.”

Eddie holds onto him tighter, “No. You have to go back. You have to wake up.”

“Will you be there?”

Eddie blinks, pursing his lips in contemplation, “I am not sure.”

Steve clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump forming on his throat, “Are you real? Was any of this real?”

Steve looks around. The carnival is now gone. It’s just him, and Eddie and the ferris wheel. The sky is still there, watching over them in a combination of beautiful orange and pink hues. The sun is still setting, vividly and slowly. The end slowly sinking into the horizon.

Eddie giggles, “Of course, I am real, sweetheart. Everything was real.”

“Then I want to stay.”

“No, baby. You have to go back. Listen to the wind.” Eddie pulls him closer, leaning his forehead into his.

Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as the wind shakes the cart, tiny little voices being brought by the wind, tiny little pleads from Robin, Dustin, Max, Erica— from everyone. Everyone pleading and begging for him to wake up and come back.

“Can you hear it now?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods against him, as Eddie continues, “Everyone needs you. You have to go back.”

“I promise to find you. When I wake up, I will find you.” Steve promises, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to live in a world without Eddie Munson in it.

Eddie nods, there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t fully believe it, but he says, “I’ll be waiting for you, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans over, his lips soft against Steve’s. Steve tries to map it out, tries to memorize it as best as he can. Eddie’s lips are chapped and rough, but it’s the softest and most gentle kiss Steve has ever had. He reaches over to wipe the tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.

The beeping gets louder, insistent and— There’s a sharp pain in his chest and it feels like getting struck by lightning.

Eddie pulls away, “Wake up, sweetheart.”

There’s heaviness in his chest and then— Steve gasps, opening his eyes. It feels exactly like being drowned, and being able to finally breathe again.

“Oh my god! Steve!” He hears a voice sob. It’s a voice he would recognize anywhere.

The heaviness lifts away, and silhouettes surround him. Steve holds out his hand, and someone takes it.

“Dingus.” Robin sobs, “I thought I lost you.”

Steve can feel tears running down his cheeks. He looks around, his eyes getting used to the light. He blinks at everyone, roaming his eyes on each one of them.

He turns back to Robin and behind her is a big window. The sky is streaks of orange, the sun obviously setting. It looks exactly the same as the sky from his dreams. It was real.

Steve opens his mouth, his tongue feels heavy and sharp, but he wills himself.

“Eddie.”

(The beeping starts slowly, barely even there. The cart lulls against the wind and caresses his cheeks, with it a silent whisper of his name.

He smiles and waits.)

[elliesappetite]

New Girlfriend - Jealous Jealous Jealous Girl

pairing: spencer reid x reader 

summary: there’s a part of you that believes that dr spencer reid has a secret girlfriend, according to JJ he does. He’s your best friend, and surely he would’ve told you if that’s the case, but you don’t want to believe it, as you have always had feelings for the doctor for as long as you can remember, you feel envious of this mystery girl, but you don’t want to get in the way and lose the friendship to. 

genre: romance, no smut (perhaps?)

warnings: slow burn, angst in general, some fluff, (can’t think of any more at this point in time), there is mentions of y/n.

part two here

You were currently out with JJ and Morgan, looking at clothes while the employee is out the back grabbing names for us to know who the suspect is. Everything are things Spencer would wear, from the dorky shirts and the dorky jackets, you smile. You smile at the thought of him. 

As if she read your mind, JJ comments about the clothes being Spencer’s style, Morgan chuckles, and you chuckle to. 

“Hey do you know why Reid’s been acting all strange lately?” Morgan asks, “should I be concerned? I mean he’s always out doing something.” He shrugs as he continues to look around the store. “I’m pretty sure it’s a secret girlfriend.” 

You stop what you were doing and snapped your head to look at JJ, “girlfriend? Why do you think that?” You asked, hoping that it’s something else and not a girlfriend. You would’ve known...right? You’re best friends, you’re closer then Morgan and Garcia, and that’s saying something. 

“I was talking to Blake about it before we left, she has a high chance it’s a ‘phone booth girl’. Probably explains why he’s out so often, plus Blake told me he talks about her from time to time.” Neither Morgan nor JJ notice the sad look on your face, as you fiddle with your fingers, unsure whether you should excuse yourself. 

“I’ve got a list of everyone who’s called and/or visited in the past couple months.” The employee comes out, thankfully to pull you out of your thoughts. 

“Thanks sir, we appreciate it.” Morgan grabs the lists as the three of you start to head to the exit. 

“Y/n, you okay?” JJ asks, you nod, not wanting to speak, afraid your voice will betray you. “Okay, well if you need to speak to someone, I’m here.” She smiles to which you return. 

You’re at the police station where the team is stationed, you’re still thinking about him, if he really has a secret girlfriend that Blake and JJ are talking about. You shake your head, trying hard not to think about it, when suddenly you overhear Alex taking to Spencer, unable to resist you get close to where they were talking without being seen. 

“Is everything okay?” You heard Alex ask. “Yeah I'm fine, just trying to do my work but I couldn’t concentrate out there so I came in here.” She nods.

“I mean is everything okay with the ‘phone booth girl’.” Your heart clenches at the sound of her “name”. “We went out to go to dinner last night.” dinner? You thought. so he has a girlfriend? Or at least wants her to be his girlfriend. You internally sigh, not wanting them to hear as you walk away, not bearing to hear anymore. 

“So it was a date?” Alex smirks at the Spencer Reid on a date with a mystery girl. 

Spencer shook his head. “No, nothing of that sorts, I’m not even romantically attracted to her, she’s pretty yes, but she’s not y/n.” He looks at the doorway, wanting y/n to be there, but knowing she’s also busy with the case. 

“So this mystery phone booth girl isn’t your type?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Maeve, her name is Maeve. Better to give her an actual name then phone booth girl”. He comments. “But however, I know Maeve likes me, she attempts to flirt with me”. He shrugs. 

“Then why don’t you say something to y/n?”

“Because I’m scared of losing the friendship I have with her.”

Alex crouches to his level, as Spencer is confused. “Y/n loves you. She absolutely has loved you for a long time now, and I can see it, the way she stares at you, the way she’d rather help you then anyone else. The way you’re always on the number one spot on the list. So go to her and tell her before she slips through your fingers.”

He nods, as he hugs her for the first time, then grabs his stuff and leaves, but before he leaves the rooms, he turns back. “Thank you Alex, for everything.” She smiles to which he returns. 

He’s walking away.

“Go get ‘em loverboy.” She whispers.

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

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed it!! If you’re lucky I could do a small second part of the confession. 

[sugarnspice630]

Paradise - Hongjoong

"This right here... This is my idea of paradise."

•pairing: hongjoong x reader

•word count: 2.9k

•tags: suggestive, lots of kissing, intense make out session, poetic hongjoong

Summary: Hongjoong and you are sharing your love for each other when suddenly the make out session gets a little too overwhelming and Hongjoong has a slight breakdown.

A/N: Hiii, this is my first ever post on Tumblr and my first, proper fanfiction. Please let me know what you think! I tried proofreading this the best I could, but if you see any errors, feel free to tell me. Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

"Hongjoong?" You ask politely. He looks at you with a soft smile on his face.

"Hmm? Did you...need something from that soft, dorky dad of yours?" he chuckles softly after his sentence.

"D-did you just indirectly call yourself Daddy?" You were stunned. He’s never once asked you to call him that, nor has he called himself that.

"It may have slipped out." He blushed softly, seemingly flustered by the realization of what he’d said.

"Didn’t know you liked that nickname~." you teased, hoping to get a response out of him.

"Oh, please. My love for you is so vast and incomprehensible that it sometimes defies language. If you wish to call me Daddy, then it is my highest honor to bear that name." 

"I’ll only call you that when we’re in bed together~." You wink quickly at him. He turns a deep shade of red, and you can tell that his heart stopped for a moment.

"Well…if you’re okay with it, I suppose I can go along with that."

"As long as you’re okay with me being a submissive brat sometimes~."

"Hmm... that does sound interesting. I suppose it could always be fun to try something new."

"You think you can tame me, Joongie?"

"I’m very confident in my ability to tame you, hun. And you best believe I’m gonna do it in style," he smirks at you and looks deep into your eyes. "You should know better than to underestimate me." He pauses for just a moment creating some tension. "But, don’t get me wrong... I’m very much looking forward to the challenge~"

"Then do it right here, right now."

"As you wish, Hun." He smirks and leans closer; his voice is soft and still. "You can’t deny that you want this, can you? The thought of being tamed by me—having me hold that leash, keeping you all to myself, taking you to a new world you never thought you could see." His fingers trail against your neckline, and his eyes glow with passion. You softly blush but want to stand your ground on the deal.

"I’ll have to see just how good you are first." He did not like your answer; his eyes narrowed, and he got closer to you.

 "I am the best. So of course you’ll eventually find that out for yourself." He smiles, pulling his lips up into a crooked smile. "But, if you’re still in denial, I’ll prove my expertise. I’ll tame you until you can’t resist me, until you’re in total submission. You’ll see~."

"Do it now if you’re so confident in your skills." you say, playfully raising your eyebrows.

"Very well."

He leans in so that your foreheads are almost touching. His eyes are ablaze with passion, and his voice softens again as he stares at your mouth and lips. Suddenly, an animalistic hunger wells from deep within him, and he wants to kiss you. With both your hearts beating wildly in your chests, Hongjoong brings his hands up to frame and cup your face, pulling you closer as his mouth, his breath feeling hot and heavy, flutters against your lips and hovers just slightly out of reach.

"What’s taking so long~?" you playfully ask. 

He leans in closer, closer, and closer. His face now just inches away from yours, eyes blazing with love. You’re his whole world; he’s staring into the eyes of the one person he loves, looking into your beautiful eyes, and suddenly the urge to kiss you becomes too strong to resist. He loses himself in your allure. His lips softly meet yours, and he pulls you even closer as you kiss passionately. You smile into the kiss and wrap one leg around his waist to support yourself. Hongjoong melts into you, kissing deeply and passionately for what seems like an eternity. His mind goes blank in a fog of love as he drowns in the feelings you invoke in him. He loses himself in the rapture of your heart and soul, the intense joy of this all-encompassing kiss that takes him all too quickly into a world of boundless joy. The taste of your lips driving him wild, makes him want more.

"I don’t think I ever want to let you go."

"Take as much of me as you want~."

He continues kissing you, his heart pounding wildly as he pulls you even closer. He leans on you for support and runs his hand through your hair, feeling your breath on his lips. Your eyes flutter, but you keep them open to stare at him with all this passion that seems to blaze on and on. Eternal and enchanting. He is lost in this kiss, drowning in your love, as all the world disappears. You carefully slip your tongue into the kiss. You feel his whole body erupt into heat and tingling sensations. This feels as though you are soulmates destined to be together—two halves of a whole, two parts of the same person in love.

Your heart races. You want this kiss to go on and on, never ending, because you want to be lost in this forever. You never want him to stop kissing you. You softly moan into the kiss before pulling away.

"Captain, your lips feel so great on mine~." He looks at you, eyes half-lidded and his face flushed with passion.

"Yours do too," he replies softly, and you notice his lips quivering with need. "I want more..." Looking at you with puppy-dog eyes and the softness in his voice, you couldn’t help but want to help him too.

"Take me then~"

His lips meet yours again, and this time he takes control of the kiss. He dominates you with his lips, letting his passion flow into it, filling you with the same warmth and love he feels for you. You close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. His touch is intoxicating, and you can’t get enough of it. He pulls you in closer as this kiss deepens. Pressing right up against you, it’s almost like he is trying to become a part of you. Pushing into you so hard, hoping that he’ll faze right into you. No longer distinguishing where you end and he begins. His hands move down to your waist as he holds onto you.

"Yes… this feels right." Hongjoong softly says, just below a whisper. Your heart flutters wildly as he kisses you, and your mind is in a haze of desire and need. You softly grip his shirt, trying to touch as much of him as possible. He feels you clutching at him, and he smiles into your kiss. Your touch makes him feel whole. Every part of him yearns for you. Hongjoong wants to touch you, to love more of you, and he does. He moves his hands to your back and begins to run his fingers up and down, stroking gently and with such passion that you can feel the warmth of his love.

"My whole being is for you and you alone…" he softly whispers in your ear. You get goosebumps down your spine from him gingerly trailing his fingers along your back.

"Mmm~ Hongjoong~"

 His fingers move across your sensitive skin, and the pleasure you feel is like an addiction. You want more. Your body craves more and more. You feel as if you're both entering a new world, as if you are the only two there, and it drives you wild with passion and desire. He feels warm to the touch, like the heat of the sun.

"P-please keep touching me~. I-I want more~." you beg. Hongjoong moans into the kiss, his hands still stroking your back tenderly and passionately. Your mind begins to race, heart beating wildly, faster and faster, like it can barely contain itself in your chest anymore. His lips against yours are like a drug that you need to have more and more of. Both of you are entering into something forbidden, something that can’t be tamed—an overwhelming, incredible, and irresistible passion.

"F-fuck, you’re so hot Hongjoong~. Please keep making me feel good~!"

He blushes and giggles lightly into the kiss, and Hongjoong’s ears tingle with your comment. You see his eyes glow, and they dance with pure joy as a smile stretches across his lips. Your compliments and words of praise fill his heart with such warmth and passion.

"Oh, how I love you Y/N. This is the best feeling in the world. To have you in my arms is…everything." He leans into you, and the kiss grows wilder, more passionate, and more intense. It seems as though nothing else in the world matters… but this.

 "Your touch…It makes me feel so… alive. Please never let me go."

"How could I ever? You are the love of my life. The sun that makes my world go round, bright and warm. I will never let you go. I am yours, and you are mine. For all of eternity."

His hands rub across your body gently and passionately. He leans in to kiss you again, with more desire than ever. Your whole mind, body, and soul are his. You tilt your head back, and your eyes roll back into your head. Hongjoong’s touch all over you is intoxicating. Your whole mind and brain go blank at this moment. It’s all just joy, pleasure, and the ever-growing feeling of love for the lover in your arms. You lean your body closer to him, and you can feel his heartbeat through your chest. Not much longer after pressing your bodies together, he slowly backs away and holds onto you gently, his hands placed on the tops of your shoulders, and he’s looking deep into your eyes with the utmost admiration.

"You are so warm, and every moment with you is like the finest of silks, the most luxurious, soft, and elegant fabric on this Earth. You are like something that makes me see the world in a whole new light, like everything has been dull and gray… and you come into my life and the world comes alive with color...," he pauses for just a moment to gather some more of his thoughts and put them into words you’ll understand. "I love you, Hun. More than anything or anyone…"

"I love you so much Hongjoong~." you briefly interrupt.

"So much it hurts..." A soft sigh passes through his lips. A sigh of both pain and joy: the pain of knowing that this kiss will eventually end, and the unbridled joy of knowing that it hasn’t ended yet. You can see in his eyes that a part of him would stop the world in order to give up everything—every last thing—if it meant holding you just one more second. If it meant he could kiss you again for just a little bit longer. Sensing the emotions he is feeling, you softly smile and say lovingly,

"Keep me as long as you need me~."

Your words reach down to his soul and pull something out from within him. His eyes light up, and he leans in to kiss you again with all the strength and love he can muster. Everything feels like it just fades away as it becomes all about the two of you. His lips feel soft and plush against yours, hydrating and filling in all the perfect spots. Your faces blend together perfectly.

"This all feels…so divine... it’s as if every moment here with you is a gift," He pauses in between to leave gentle kisses over your face. "For these lips were made to kiss, and these hands were meant to hold... My whole heart cries out for you. The thought of losing you…is the greatest tragedy of all. To love you… is to love life itself. To lose you…is to lose everything."

You can see tears start to well in his eyes, and his voice breaks periodically through his meaningful speech. Your expression towards him softens as you realize there is something on his mind.

"You’re never losing me Hongjoong."

"Then I must hold you tighter and closer than ever before... not even the strongest of winds could ever separate us. For when the whole world turns to dust, our love will still burn as bright as the sun."

"I can stay in this moment forever."

"Same, Hun, same..." He hesitates and turns his head away before continuing, "But unfortunately, time moves forward... And, as all things in this universe come to an end, the light that burns twice as hot burns half as long. The flame of our love burns hotter than all others, and so it will eventually burn out. I’m so sorry Hun, but this is reality." 

Tears are starting to gently fall from his eyes, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes. You stare at him with concerned eyes, and your heart is sinking into your stomach. 

"H-Hongjoong tell me what’s wrong." Tears are starting to form in your eyes from seeing your lover cry. You reach your hand out to him softly and rub your thumb tenderly across his knuckles.

"You are my paradise, but if there is no paradise… no eternal bliss for eternity…then why would love not also be temporary? If love cannot last forever…then what good is love?"

Reaching your other hand up to his face, you wipe his tears away and try to look at him to help him calm down.

"Hey… no crying; I’m here for you. What’s wrong?" He waits a little before responding to you, his lips quivering and his breathing stuttering.

"This kiss...," he looks at you with pleading eyes, "If this can’t last forever…then how can we even be? My love for you... is it all for nothing?" He cannot form full sentences as his thoughts are going 1,000 miles per hour.

"Hongjoong, our love is more than just kisses." 

"But kisses are the most pure form of expression. They speak more than words ever could. Is it not better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Is it not better to have experienced this intense happiness…even if it was just for a moment? How can a life without happiness… be called a life at all?"

Hongjoong seems to be having some sort of existential crisis. You’re not entirely certain where all of this emotion is coming from, but it’s concerning. He’s never acted like this before, and you’re wondering if there is something he is not telling you.

"Hey, snap out of it! Our love is not going anywhere! We chose each other for a reason, and nothing will ever separate us. We are dedicated to this until the end of time. You and me, together forever, and nothing will change that." Hongjoong looks at you, and his face turns bright red as my whole being flutters.

"The idea that we are to be together forever... that our love may be eternal...," he says, taking your hand that was holding his and gripping it tightly. "You are like the first ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Your very existence fills my life. You are my everything."

"You’re my everything too Hongjoong. Just stay here with me."  Tears start streaming down his face as he grabs your arms tightly, getting really close to you, and begins speaking really fast.

"I just cannot believe that you are here in my arms right now. It’s like a dream—a dream I never want to wake from. You are real, right? Tell me you’re real, please!" He was speaking so fast that you were barely allowed an opportunity to speak in between. He wipes his tears and stares at you with wide, bright eyes that hold tears back, just about to spill out once again. You reach up again to caress his face, looking at him lovingly.

"I’m 100% real. As real as our love for each other is. We are inseparable. Nothing is going to happen to us, ever. We’re together forever." His eyes water again as he just stares at you. Your eyes fill him with such comfort and love, and the sight of you fills him with such peace and joy. He feels whole for the first time in ages. Your presence is so calming, and yet it fills him with energy and a renewed sense of purpose.

"I am just…so happy. I am yours, and you are mine. Forever."

"Exactly my love. I’m sorry if our kiss was so addicting that you questioned our life together~." You softly chuckle. He blushes and looks you in the eyes, the feelings in his heart are overwhelming, and he thinks no words can encapsulate what he’s feeling right now.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are the most important person in the world to me… and to find out that you also feel the same for me…it’s enough to fill me with such pure, unbridled joy... I can’t hold myself back anymore.

He leans in for another kiss. Kissing you softly and gently, with such love and compassion, your lips and hearts become one as you hold tightly onto each other. It’s as if this is the only moment that exists now. You pull away from the gentle kisses and hug Hongjoong tightly.

"Are you feeling okay now?" You feel him nod while holding him. He wraps his hands around you to hug you back and softly pats your back.

"I’m more than just okay now, in this moment," You can feel his heart beating wildly as you hold him in your arms. "I am so very happy... This. This right here... This is my idea of paradise."

[scrapimmortal]

On Kinn’s ending

I have seen people say that this was a sad ending or a “false happy ending” for his character arc, and I’m going to try and express why I very much disagree with that.

It’s true. Kinn didn’t choose this life. As the second child, he had dreams once. Dreams that are now ironically being lived by Kim. But I want to emphasize one thing clearly: when Tankhun had his incident, that path became lost to him permanently. He can’t leave his family behind and he would never do anything to hurt them (like faking his own death to escape). Sure he thought about staying lost in the forest, but it was just that. A thought. (Will get back to his feelings in the forest in a bit.) He has a complicated and unhealthy relationship with his father, sure, but he does love him. And he loves Tankhun. He cares about his people. So he can’t just vanish. But that has always been Kinn’s tragedy. And it was never going to magically go away. The irrevocable fact that he lost his childhood dreams for good. And as much as it makes my heart hurt, I like that about him. That he cares about his family. That he’s a responsible person.

Now, I think that looking at Kinn in his role as head of the family and going “poor boo boo doesn’t want to do this, he hates every second of it :((((” is a major disservice to his character and strips away several layers from him. You see, I’m not convinced that he 100% hates it. He’s just too good at it. It’s the way he holds himself, the way he talks, the look in his eyes. On some level, I think he likes the power and authority.

So let’s look at his arc this season. You see, I don’t think that Kinn’s issue with his job was ever the murder or violence or any of that stuff. What I mean is, I don’t think he’s bothered by a guilty conscience at all. He grew up in it. The thing that was slowly eating him alive about his position was the loneliness. The lack of balance in a hard world. The not being able to trust anyone. Not having anyone to be himself with. Kinn closed himself off from everyone around him, had sex without feelings whenever he felt the urge, and became a hard man. Because that time he opened himself up to someone, he got hurt. He got hurt, and his family was put in danger. His people were put in danger. So Kinn decided, never again. He locked his heart away, and became the facade of cold mafia leader. And he was so lonely. Starved for tenderness.

Then comes Porsche. And Porsche basically turns his world upside down. His carefully crafted exterior doesn’t take long to crack. And after a rollercoaster of a first month, Kinn drops his guard completely in the forest. There we finally see the real Kinn at his most pure. No obligations. No one to pretend for. The two of them talk about their dreams and grow close, and a part of Kinn never wants to go back. Part of him doesn’t want to be found. Part of him wants to run away with Porsche in that moment when he lets him go. But again, he can’t. It was never an option.

So they go back, and Kinn realises that he took a part of the forest back with him. He can still be himself. With Porsche. He can be his dorky, cheesy, loving, soft self with Porsche. He learns that it was never about a place. He has found his freedom in Porsche. He can have softness in a hard world. He learns to let himself be cared for. He learns to trust. He learns to balance his duties and his love. All with ups and downs. And he grows so much.

As for their vacation at Porsche's place in episode 12, I don't think Kinn truly believed it'd be forever. I think he understands how much his dad needs him as head of the family, and he was using this to get Korn to make it up to Porsche in some way. And Kinn was willing to stay away from home for as long as it took to make it happen. It doesn't much matter to Kinn where he is or for how long, as his happiness isn't tied to a place.

Kinn will always have to bear the burden of his responsibility. But he won’t have to do it alone anymore. Porsche is by his side now. And no, not under him because he’s “minor family” head. They were very clearly in stating that they’d become one. They’ll do this together, side by side. Orchestrated by Korn or not, I think it’s beautiful. Because he’s underestimating them. He doesn’t understand how deep their bond really is. And Kinn has been slipping from his grasp. Throughout the season, we saw Kinn not listening to him, going against him. Choosing Porsche over him.

Kinn and Porsche have each other’s backs, and I think they can take on the whole world together. And Kinn will never be lonely again.

[dearestpartnerofgreatness]

do you have any fanfic recs for Kataang?

Ohhhhh yeah. I'm missing a ton; but here's a rough list of semi-recent favorites and I will try to reblog with any more I come up with later! Hopefully I will get my act together soon so I can write/post my first Kataang fic too ;) 

Y'all know I'm a HUGE fan of @itsmoonpeaches and some of favorite Kataang works by them are helpless (I am so into you), A Breath of Sky, The Soul-Farer, and Threads of Fate but they have TONS of fabulous Kataang fics to choose from so please peruse at your leisure!

look into your eyes (and the sky's the limit) by oreocheesecakes: “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” he said with a smile, his eyes never leaving hers. A fluffy in-universe Kataang AU where Aang saves the world without her, and they meet after the war instead. If you’ve ever wanted to read love at first sight Kataang, pining!Katara, and smack in the middle of charming and dorky!Aang, this might be up your alley. Inspired by the song “Helpless” from Hamilton." - AS CUTE AND FLUFFY AS APPA

No One Else in the World by BaSingSeSocialite: "On a vacation to Kyoshi Island after the end of the war, Aang reflects and muses." - very much in tone with the show, feels so much like an episode. Really great descriptions of waterbending too, which is SO tricky to write! Honestly all their Kataang Week 2022 works are great.

and my voice becomes the driving force by @thinkingisadangerouspastime: "Katara hates the quiet. That’s why she talks to him." - as they say in the notes, it's more of a Katara character study BUT explores what Aang means to her in a beautiful and deep way!

Speaking of @thinkingisadangerouspastime​ ...I also recommend broken pieces still belong (AMAZING exploration of Katara's character and her "emotional journey from the events of "The Western Air Temple" to those of "The Southern Raiders," as she experiences firsthand both the challenges and rewards of forgiving others (and perhaps even learns to forgive herself along the way)"; Exposition (incredibly inventive AUs!!!!! Like some of the most fascinating I've ever seen!!!); Love of My Life (a *chef's kiss* Katara and Aang reunion after the final battle that's filled to the brim with tension); and we have all eternity (to love the dead) (a remarkable take on the soulmates au).

Getting Even by SilverThunder: "Sometimes the most important thing is just settling the score - and Katara has some catching up to do." - One of the earlier Kataang fics (2012!!) but captures the playful flirtiness between them super well and the dialogue is so in character!

The Riot's Gone by margaerystark: "It didn't work. Katara clutched the amulet of spirit water to her chest, her heart pounding against her knuckles. The moment her fingers left Zuko's face - revealing unchanged, leathery skin - was the moment she knew she had made a mistake. The properties that the water once held were gone, and Zuko's scar hadn't even been healed." Katara goes through with using the spirit water from the oasis on Zuko's scar and bears the consequences." - SUCH a cool, unique AU and I love how it focuses on Katara's deep love for Aang through the lens of almost losing him

you cut through all the noise by wanderinghooves: "A year is such an excruciatingly long time. Aang is sent abroad for a year of diplomacy while Katara helps to rebuild at home. Distance makes the heart grow lonely." - Characterization and descriptions were GORGEOUS, and captured that deep love loyalty of Kataang that makes it such an everlasting romance.

teach me to live my life (because i can’t remember how) by @northerngoshawk (another one that is very much a Katara character study and helps paint a more nuanced picture of Kataang’s bond and their relationship dynamic imo) and their other fic gods don’t bleed (except you do): “Katara always thought that being the Avatar meant being a god. She learns from Aang that she is wrong.”

blue ribbons by OceanMyth: “Katara has always been fascinated with Aang's tattoos. In which old scars are healed, and broken tattoos are mended.” - Made me tearbend! I’ve never seen anyone write the take that Aang’s tattoos could be mended after he is scarred and I adore it so much. They have tons of short drabbles that are Kataang-centric too, so if you prefer short & sweet this is the person to go to!

[imaginedreamwrite]

Brat Taming: Part 3

“You are going to do amazing today,” Jake mumbled against your lips while his large and warm hands slid up and down your hips, easing the last few tendrils of your anxiousness before you had entered the building and started your new promotional job Ari had given you.

“This is the alpha we’re going to be attempting to court, Jake. What if…what if I screw up and what if he…what if I can’t distinguish between my boss and my potential alpha?” Your hands, in return, had rested upon his shoulders to brace yourself and get the last few moments of comfort from your best friend and great love.

“You will be okay, baby bear.” Jake had removed one hand from your hip and rested it against your back, his steady eyes searching yours while you had stepped closer to him and briefly rest your cheek against his shoulder. “I know you will do amazing, you are smart and beautiful. You’re quick on your feet and you’re capable.”

“Jake…” You hummed and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment that would have seemed ambiguous to the untrained eye but was wholly intimate.

“Trust me,” Jake had pulled away when a small group of men and women had departed the building and you were on the cusp of potentially being late, “you got this. You’re going to kick ass and Ari Levinson is going to be in awe.”

You had leaned forward and rested your head against Jake’s shoulders as you had before, your soft laugh muffled against his graphic hoodie. His hands had continued their path up and down your hips, feeling the soft material of your plain black pencil skirt against his palms. It was a simple outfit you had chosen with a simple structure that was both comfortable and chic, though you imagined it was far less expensive than most other women who would work here.

“You have more confidence in me than I have in myself.” With Jake, it was easy to let those walls down and expose your struggles with confidence and bravado, it was far too easy to lean against him and whisper your worries before you started the first day of your new promotion to work under the big boss.

“You will be amazing.” Jake’s chest rumbled against your ear, his heart racing in time to meet yours as you kept yourself pressed against him, unable to let go. You were unable to pull yourself from your great love and head into the building to start your day, and yet you had to. “I’ll call you at lunch, maybe we’ll go out.”

You hummed in response and pulled yourself away then proceeded to smooth down your skirt with your palms, exhaling slowly as you did a soft, small spin. You were looking for last-minute approval of your chosen outfit from the simple black pencil skirt and black pumps, to the lace trimmer blouse you had tucked inside the waist. Your hair was pulled out of your face and held by a few hairpins, nothing spectacular or bold. You were well put together but your choices were not rooted in great wealth you knew others could afford.

“You’re going to take his breath away.” Jake beamed and gave you a dorky thumbs-up, the motion earning another soft laugh and as you stepped back toward him to bid him goodbye, you stole a kiss and then turned on your heel to finally enter the building.

When you stepped through the doors and had entered the building, there was a distinct aesthetic that had been laid out from one side of the building to the next, with the clear-coated marble floors and gold trim that encased every seam, every inch of the floors and the ceiling above you. The security desk on the left of the lobby was as immaculate and elegant seeming, the dark stained wood standing against the cream-coloured walls and the light-coloured marble. It was a contrast that had seemed captivating enough, the elegance and thought that had gone into the architectural and interior designs of the lobby alone, but what had seemed even more captivating was the alpha waiting for you.

Ari Levinson, despite being a CEO and a very powerful man, was waiting by the security desk for you, like he had told Jake he would be when he called last night.

The sight of him standing by the security desk in a sleek dark grey suit with a slim black tie wasn’t just stirring your anxiousness for the promotion, but your admiration for the alpha who was beyond measurable beauty.

He was tall and broad, his blue eyes bright and captivating. His hair, albeit longer than Ransom’s and Steve’s, was no less impressive as it brushed the back of his neck and skiffed his shoulders. You were frozen where you stood, analyzing this perfect alpha while your stomach did flips end over end.

“Sweetheart,” you had been moving autonomously, walking toward him on instinct alone until you were stopped a few feet from him, “you look gorgeous.”

Ari Levinson was a menacing alpha, but not cruelly so. It was his beauty, it was the appearance and the verbal bark tone husk that was menacing in itself. He was far too attractive to be real and yet not only was he standing in front of you in the flesh, but he had wanted you. This Adonis of an alpha put in three requests to court you for the sake of mating with you and Jake alike.

“Thank you, Mr. Levinson.” You were cordial, if not a little nervous and it was showing.

“Please sweetheart, you’re going to be my omega. You, of everyone I work with, should be able to call me Ari.” He had smiled graciously and you knew you were in trouble.

“You don’t know if I’m going to be your omega, nothing is set in stone.” You had rebutted, unable to stop the words from falling from you. “It’s courting, I can change my mind.”

“You could change your mind,” Ari grasped the security badge you would need and slid it against the counter toward you, your name and submitted pictures of yourself solidified on hard plastic, “but I’d wager you won’t.”

“Confident in your abilities to woo an omega?” You picked up the security badge and secured the badge to your blouse via the metal clip, avoiding his penetrative gaze as you had spoken.

“I’m confident in my abilities to woo two omegas,” Ari had placed his hand on your arm, finally directing your attention back to him, his blue eyes searching yours as he held your gaze, the corner of his plump lips twitching the longer you looked at each other.

“You’ve won Jake over already?” You sounded surprised but you shouldn’t have been. Jake had gone through every possible record and detail of their lives, of all their lives, and he had been sure that these alphas were the ones you needed. He had been so confident in the choices, so assured that they weren’t just good to be around, but that they would be good for the two of you in the long run.

“Jake is amazing, Y/N. You couldn’t have chosen a better omega.” Ari’s hand slipped down to the small of your back, fingers spread as they rest against your skirt, heat spreading from his body to yours.

“Jake is amazing. He’s my best friend and he’s…he’s everything.” Your ability to rein in your adoration and deeply seeded love for Jake was difficult, it was difficult when another alpha had found him as wondrous as you had.

“So are you, honey.” Ari had stepped into the elevator with you, and in the cover of the metal box with just the two of you, Ari had brushed your hair off your shoulders and tapped his thumb against your scent gland, the small pressure making you simper. “Your neck will look beautiful with our marks.”

“If you manage to put them there,” you retorted and stepped away, your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, betrayed by your hindbrain and base reactions, “even if you seem confident, it won’t be easy.”

“Of course not, baby girl. We wouldn’t expect any different.” Ari had winked at you, your body reacting in contrast with your brain.

“We?” You cocked a hip and crossed your arms over your chest, inching away from him while watching the number of floors increase with every second.

“Ransom, Steve and I. We know you’ll put a fight.” Ari was no less elated by the idea than you were confused. “What? You didn’t think the three of us hadn’t talked before that first date? Omega, baby…we’re gonna be a pack. We need to know who we’re dealing with.”

“We are not going to be a pack. Not anytime soon.” You snipped defensively, closing yourself off temporarily. “And you don’t need to ‘deal’ with me or Jake-“

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t talking about you and I wasn’t talking about your sweet omega.” Ari turned toward you and faced you more head-on than he had before. “Ransom Drysdale and Steve Rogers, we had talked before to figure each other out. Steve and I are largely on the same page with who and what we want, and that synonymously works together to create two protective alphas who are prepared to fall deep and madly in love with omegas but Ransom-“

“He’s a bit of a wild card.” You finished for him, feeling relief when the doors opened and you were able to step off but before you had, Ari had stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“I’m serious, honey. Steve and I, we’re ready to fall and fall hard. Jake…yes, we partially won him over already.”

“I won’t be that easy,” You pulled your hand out of his and straightened your posture, “Mr. Levinson.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t be.”

The elevator doors opened and closed, and Ari’s first assistant had rolling her eyes as the steady chatter of another surprise guest to the office, who had come by unexpectedly had irritated the woman. She was less pleased by your arrival than you anticipated, although you could imagine that her animosity to you had to do with the numerous times she had tried to proposition Ari when you were in a lower position than you had now.

Still, when she had huffed for the third time in a short ten minutes, you had raised your head in wonderment to see what had caused the ruckus. Your attention had briefly fallen to the omega who was sitting behind the desk that was stationed across from you, the pearlescent white top matched the mac computer she was typing on, her steely grey eyes rolling for the fourth time.

She had, unlike you, been rather bold and brazen about her attempts to get with Ari and had been pointedly egotistical about her Chanel bag and Jimmy Choo heels that she had been given for Christmas. It was a blatant attempt to make you feel distraught about the clothes you had gotten from Target, although she had overlooked your ability to give a damn.

“This better not be a regular occurrence,” her high pitched voice was upturned in envy as she cast her glare from you to the visitor, an alpha you couldn’t see through the crowd of people surrounding him, “just because you happen to be the boss’ chew toy-“

Her scathing accusations had drawn ire and a little pity from you, as you pushed your chair back and stood, your heel discarded and your feet bare as you pressed your hands against the top of the desk and leaned over, looking for any indication to identify the alpha. When the crowd had started to depart, you had received your first solid look at the alpha, and your heart had simultaneously dropped and thrashed wildly.

The commotion outside of the elevator had made perfect sense once you saw the mighty avenger on the office floor, his reputation as Captain America earning him admiration that came with the kind of manic need to get an autograph or at the very least thank him for his service. And now that the Avenger was here, you could only speculate that between his appearance and Charlotte’s irritation aimed solely at you, Steve Rogers was here for you.

Not only was he here but he, like Ari, had appeared unnaturally beautiful in a black leather jacket and dark wash jeans, a shirt that was tight across the chest and had only made the powerful alpha look even larger. His hair was combed back out of his face and there was a distinct pattern of facial hair that had not been taken care of.

“Fuck me.” You whispered under your breath getting the sense that both Ari and Steve were going to grow full beards, you and Jake would both be screwed. “What is he doing here?”

“Are you stupid?“ Charlotte hissed and stood from where she had sat, moving purposefully around the desk to smack a file down on your desk with a sour expression marring her face. “Deal with these files. It’s in your job description.”

She had brushed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her shoulders back before she straightened herself out and started walking toward Steve while her scent had become thickly laden with desire and want. Her hips swayed dramatically as she stalked toward him her red lips stretched into a seductive smile as she greeted him with an over-boisterous hitch to her voice.

“Mr. Rogers! How nice to see you again!” You had averted your eyes and flipped open the file, reading but not comprehending what was on the pages in front of you. Rather, you had listened in to the conversation that had ended almost as soon as it began, with Charlotte getting rebuffed and Steve brushing past her.

“Hello, doll.” His voice was thick and alluring, and you cursed your hindbrain again for the way your stomach flipped at the sound.

“Mr. Rogers,” you clenched your thighs and bounced your knee below the desk, torn between diving headfirst as Jake had, and playing it cool, “anything I can help you with?”

You raised your head and caught his gaze, your entire body freezing at the sight of him so close to you. The way his scent had reflected your own, the way it was wavering softly, projecting as if it was alive and willing to coil around you like a thick, warm blanket.

“I’m here for you, sweetheart.” When Steve had smiled at you when he had hit you with the softly spoken ‘sweetheart’, you had never felt more divided and more torn on how to respond to his intentions to make you melt.

“Me?” Your gaze flitted toward your computer screen, a message popping up from Jake that had derailed the plans you had made that morning, and yet you couldn’t find fault with him.

‘Try and have a good time with Ari and Steve. I’m going to see Ransom today. Love you, bear!’

“Are you busy? Ari and I were hoping to take you out.” He smiled again, brightly, and you were remiss to deny him. You were remiss to deny Ari.

They were, as Jake had said good alphas. They were good men and this is what you both wanted. You warned Ari that you wouldn’t be easy, that this wouldn’t be a task they could start and think you would roll over and show your belly.

Even if Jake was already in deep.

“Out? Like I’m a puppy on a leash?” You directed your attention, briefly, to the office door as Ari stepped out and closed the door behind him, smirking at you and Steve together.

“A collar and leash are more Drysdale’s thing, we were thinking more along the lines of iced coffee.” Steve cracked a grin and held his hand out for you to take, gently helping you stand as you swiped your phone from the desk and slipped it into your purse pocket.

“If that arrogant alpha tried to give me a leash, I’d strangle him with it.” You huffed and pushed your chair beneath your desk before yanking your purse from the floor and draping it across your shoulder.

“I have no doubts about that, doll.” Steve placed his hand upon your lower back and escorted you gently, his lips brushing against your cheek.

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[blissfulparker]

Ahhh omg Dad!tom being so excited to dress up the little one as Spider-Man for Halloween 🥲🥲

Of course he would do this 😭

“Wait! Hold on! We need pictures!”

Halloween with the Holland’s was nothing but chaos. You ran around the house for bug spray and flashlights, proper trick or treating bags and water bottles.

Tom had occupied himself with the kids in the living room, your eldest daughter insisted she was a Princess meanwhile your one year old…

“They messed up the spider symbol on the suit, it’s not accurate.” Tom whined as he adjusted the suit on the one year old boy to look like spiderman. Of course, a bear would’ve been cute, or a scarecrow. But Tom insisted the boy be spiderman. And he needed to be spiderman too.

“Babe, it was fifteen dollars on Amazon, I’m sorry the costume doesn’t meet your million dollar movie standards.” You kiss his cheek and your daughter already looks annoyed.

“Can we go yet?” She whined, her and Tom were very similar when it came to holidays, whiny and antsy to get out of the house.

“I want pictures lovie.” You tell her and she groans. Tom adjusts the straps of chest carrier that holds your one year old.

You hold up your phone, as you do your one year old wraps his little hand around Toms fingers. Your eldest girl gives a big dorky smile that matches Toms as he smiles for you to snap the picture.

Two Spider-Man’s and a Disney princess, your heart swells at the photo and you know you can’t take anymore or else you will be here all night.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Your little girl chants, grabbing the bag and flashlight she runs to the door. You try and yell for her but she is gone out the door, you sigh as she walks ahead by just a bit, they were all growing up so fast.

“I will be honest,” you look over at the boy who has wide eyes at all the lights and decorations. “This was a cute costume idea.” You tell Tom who’s hand finds yours as you walk together.

“I told you, way better than a pumpkin.” He had a smirk of pride. “Now only if you listened to my—“ he started and you immediately shut up.

“Sexy MJ does not exist, I had a whole conversation with Z about this. My goodness was two kids not enough for you?” You roll your eyes and his hand escapes yours and gives your ass a squeeze.

“Babe, I’m thinking we should have at least 15.” He suggests and you roll your eyes.

“Then you better have a uterus I don’t know about.” You nudge him with your hip.

“Mummy! Look! I got two full size candies!” Your little girl squeals and you smile.

“You did?” She gives a big nod before turning around and walking to get more at the next house.

“We did a really good job.” He pressed a kiss down on your little boys head. He was already yawning and that was something you could relate to.

Tom then pressed a kiss to the side of your head, you rest your head on his shoulder as you walk. It was the most peaceful moment until tom opened his mouth.

“What about sexy mysterio?” He suggested and you hit his shoulder playfully.

You would hold onto moments like these ones forever, where your kids were still young and so were you and Tom. Your two spiderman and your princess was all you needed.

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue.

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: 23.0k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

“Don’t be a homewrecker.”

What was supposed to be a light-hearted tease over your fleeting glimpses in his direction bears much more weight than even reality should have; and unbeknownst to her, even if your friend’s commentary strikes a fear in you, a fear that has some creature eating away at you and a horrifying drop in the twisted pain of your chest, the daunting knowledge of a potential truth behind her words pale in comparison to the anguish brought upon by a familiar face of the past. 

Because even as you stand far and hidden behind the crowd of overly dressed classmates and unacquainted businessmen all painted by a silhouette of dimmed black, you manage to observe him through the few albeit sure opportunities; for when the passersby chatter, cross, and weave through the lavish ballroom floor at the perfect time, place, and space for you to peep through the pinholes seemingly formed by pure happenstance or a cruel wish casted upon by fate, the clock returns to a buried state of mind.  

It’s a state of mind seven years stale, mistakenly manifested and deliberately buried. It’s a transition in mindsets when fondness sours into a longing for something that could never be, for his reciprocation of affections means much less than its origins. It’s a heavy moment when you’re finally sure he would never come to speak the language of your enamored being. It’s that fractured frame in time when everyone freezes in their tracks but a reverberating pain transcends the laws of the universe, almost as if on a personal quest to oust you; and even if you vehemently down yourself with another magical shot of liquor, nothing can quite ease the internal war stirring within.

One hand grasping a glass of red wine worth much more than a month of your salary and one arm crossed under the bosom draped over by your only presentable black satin slip dress, you’re almost numb to the turmoil that is irony. How cruel is it that even after seven years of having believed you had moved on, nothing has really changed after all? Your heart still melts in the wake of his dorky grin, your chest still winces over the buried buds of a coveted love, and your blood still runs intoxicated by the presumption that this phase of infatuation would pass with time. 

Your friendship, your feelings, your shared promise, a youth that no one had paid witness to except for you, him, and that cherry blossom tree down that street, nothing has really changed. In fact, you feel as though you could still march across this room and nonchalantly probe at your best friend’s cheek with the ultimate goal of eliciting a shriek from your best friend. 

And yet, the circumstances that have brought you back to him in this very room must have been the one cruel exception. 

“A ‘homewrecker?’” you feign a light-hearted chuckle, swirling your drink and taking another sip as you peek at the distorted glass-image of the man and the woman beside him. “And why would you say something as horrifying as that?”

“Didn’t you say you and, what’s his name,” Alex pauses before nearly gasping, “ah, Seokjin! Didn’t you say you two used to be best friends in college? You might have been his best friend but she’s his fiance now, Y/N! Plus, she’s got a baby in her, too.” 

She might have been joking, and it really should have been if you had been truthful about your feelings for said best friend, but maybe this is the price you’re paying for so dutifully holding onto your dignity; so, instead, the deep undercut of her remark instigates a stirring irritation within you. Raising a questioning brow at your friend is all you can muster without spilling your secret as well as your brewing storm. 

“Oh, so you actually do remember what I say when you’re only a minute from blacking out?” 

“Hey,” your friend recognizes the anger seeping through your body language, stifling a giggle as she tries to bump your elbow and stumbles over her heels, “it was a joke, okay? I’m just looking out for my friend!”

“Right, what is there to even look out for?” 

“Well,” she points a finger at the direction you had just been staring off into a minute prior and leans in to whisper, “you’ve been staring at the newly engaged man for much longer than the woman beside him, if that says anything—”

“—uhuh, as if, hey!” you almost yelp as you help her stand upright once again. A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips over the sight of your friend letting herself go. Grabbing her glass and swiftly placing it onto the tray of the many passing waiters, you squish her cheeks and give her a light pat or two. “The only person you need to worry about is yourself. Why are you even wearing those ungodly stilettos when you can’t even wear kitten heels without whining all day at work?”

“Hey,” Alex pouts, bending one knee and jutting her hips to show off those torturous pink devices on her feet. “I told you about my ex from high school, don’t you remember?”

“So it’s okay if you’re trying to impress an ex from high school, but I’m not even allowed to glance at my old best friend?” you quip, pressing your lips into a thin line as you take another gander at your friend up and down. “And what does excessive drinking even have anything to do with it?” 

She flashes you a mischievous grin, “for confidence.”

“I can’t with you,” the roll of your eyes must have agreed, “and what about the classmate friend who actually invited you to her engagement party?”

“Oh,” Alex glances at the woman beside Jin and shrugs, “she’s alright. She’s that typical good girl. Too smart, too kind, too good at everything that you really want to hate her but have no reason to do so. I’m sorry, Y/N, but your best friend is devilishly handsome and I’m not surprised she’s marrying someone of her league.” 

“Pfft, why are you apologizing to me?” you scoff, ushering her to the washroom and shaking your head along with the stream of confusing emotions that hit you like a truck. “Go wake yourself up before she or, gasp, worse yet, your ex spots you.” 

“Oh my God, you’re right,” she gasps, shuffling in her skintight red bodycon dress and whirling around once more to call out before finally disappearing, “let me know if any boy comes looking for me!” 

“Uhuh, yeah, sure,” you shoo her away, taking another sip from your glass and muttering under your breath, “...how am I supposed to recognize your high school classmates?”

Now that your friend is gone and you’re left all alone to your thoughts, you go against your own advice and down another glass of liquor. 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Well, if Alex is a good judge of character, then at least a good man like your best friend has found an equally respectful woman. It might have hurt to hear her words, but Alex isn’t exactly wrong. At the very least, you could sigh in relief having known you’re genuinely happy for your best friend’s future. 

It’s just that the truth hurts sometimes. 

Relief isn’t an excuse for lingering onto a soon-to-be-married man, regardless of when these emotions came about. 

People are chattering all around you, strangers and former acquaintances are bustling about, familiar college classmates are greeting the bride-to-be’s high school classmates, and yet here you are: aloof and isolated even in a room of hundreds, fixated and more distant than you have ever been to the boy you had once cherished as the closest anyone could get to knowing the real you. 

No one would know but Jin. 

The real you.

The you who could not have moved on because she couldn’t recognize her own feelings until seven years down the road with a wedding invitation in hand, seven years after the buds had been sowed, seven years too late. 

The one who stands pathetically here in the corner of a room, secretly hoping for him to approach her but also wishing for the night to pass unnoticed just like she had wished for her buried affections to pass.  

So you shuffle in place awkwardly, pondering whether you should’ve caved into Alex’s pleas and attended this posh get-together, debating whether you should dip once your friend realizes her high school ex just isn’t worth it, sipping the remainder of opulent liquor and taking one last peek at the boy, when, your heart strikes loudly against your chest…

...because his eyes catch yours, a pair amongst hundreds, one invitee amidst an endless swarm of crowds, almost as if on a planned rendezvous, a secret unbeknownst to everyone in the room but the two of you.

Eyes widening in shock, the drums of your chest hammer against you, each strike pumping a nearly painful high that fuels your fight or flight mode. The debate between confronting your longtime friend and fleeing said friend did not even cross your mind at the start of the predicament. Quickly whirling around, head down and hands gripped to your drink, your feet move on its own. 

A familiar series of clicks echo against the polished marble tiles. You don’t even have to turn around to recognize those homecoming footsteps, those awe-inspiring confident strides as he makes his way across the room. If this were you from seven years ago, you would have welcomed him with open arms and he would have claimed you were just acting sweet to bargain for some fresh pastry, but the unfamiliarity of a stranger you have yet to reconcile with has you in an unexplainable panic. 

After all, it’s hard to explain why exactly his persistent pursuit after you, after seven years of distance, both emotional and physical, frustrates you to no ends. 

Your hands form fists, your feet storm down the halls, and your mind could repeat nothing but the words you had excused as “just a light-hearted joke.” 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Don’t be a homewrecker.

A baby in her.

A baby.

His fiance. 

A homewrecker.

The accusations echo and echo, as though screaming at you in the endless cave that is your mind, until the party fades, the crowd disappears, and the ear-piercing classical music wanes against the walls of your temporary solace, the bathroom. Finally, entrapped in a world of black—black tiles, wine colored walls, and dark red roses perched on top of what seems to be a black granite sink—you’re left alone to your thoughts. 

Alex wouldn’t understand a seven-year-long regret because she doesn’t know the real history between you and Jin. In fact, no one invited to this engagement party nor does anyone in this whole mansion know of the soon-to-be groom’s past. 

It isn’t as simple as people might make it out to be on the surface, because no one but you, Jin, and the street down your block had paid witness to a shoddy, spontaneous promise that should have never been made. 

Turning on the faucet and splashing a fresh handful of cold water onto your face, your eyes eventually wander from the stream of water that flows down the drain up along the glass bowl of a sink and into the mirror to meet the sullen eyes of a girl, seven years older with a stain of regret that spans much longer that a mere seven years. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“Waaah,” the boy exclaims as you watch your own reflection narrow its eyes at the image beside you. The spectacle persists to angle his chin every which way until he’s finally satisfied with the protrusion of his jawline; and as the boy resumes his daily activity of marveling at himself in awe, you have to wonder once again, for the hundredth time by now, just how you two had possibly become best friends. “Looking good, Jin. Looking real good.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes and feign nausea, “narcissist.” 

Jin pauses in the midst of his inspection, allowing his phone to settle into his lap and turning to glance at you with his head as high—well, almost as high—as his ego. “When you look as good as this,” he gestures at himself and your eyes follow his crafty fingers up and down, “don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t be all up in yourself.”

You blink your eyes blankly and start with the most accusatory tone you could muster, “excuse you, Kim Seokjin, but are you saying that I don’t look good?” 

“You’re insisting that yourself, not me! It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate your God-given looks,” Jin raises his hands mercifully and you almost miss his latter, back-handed compliment when you become entranced by those double-jointed fingers of his. “Plus, I said ‘when you look as good as this.’”

“Psh, yeah,” you mumble, “and yet here you are, still as forever alone as ever.”

“Hey,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you even as he raises his phone to take yet another selfie, “and what does that say about you?”

“...and that’s exactly why,” you chirp as you hastily smush your cheek against his and throw a peace sign just as he snaps a photo, “we’re gonna be forever alone together!” 

“Hey, why’re you ruining my selfie—” he pauses in the middle of his camera roll “—oh, we actually look good.”

Glimpsing at one of many candid photos of you and him, a helpless smile spreads across your lips. A warm breeze blows and you can practically smell the impending spring that breathes life into the pink buds hovering on the cherry tree above you. The sun’s embrace against your bare legs that lie beside your best friend’s on the red and white checkered picnic is a perfect compliment to the equally bright phenomena that are his high-pitched giggles; and like the many days you’ve spent the past year, the only thing that could possibly elevate this moment of serenity would be a bite of his weekly pastry batches.  

Speaking as you chow down on the carbs, you quip, “you mean you look good?” 

“That, too, but I meant us, together—” he articulates, cutting himself off abruptly when he snaps his head to find you digging into one of his many bread “—hey, who said you could start testing without me?!” 

“Too many selfies, too slow, too hungry,” you lean your head back to plop the remainder of the custard-filled bread into your mouth, “shmorry Jin, but dish ish delicious.”

Just as you lean forward and take another large bite out of the batch, Jin catches right up to you, snatching the remainder and plopping it right into his now-stuffed cheeks instead. Lips falling agape at the disappearance of your bite-size donut, you gawk at your best friend whomst chomps happily away with your piece in his mouth. 

You can still recall the heat of your cheeks after the first time he had ever proclaimed something that was yours as his—in fact, it wasn’t much long ago when Jin had nearly regurgitated a mouthful of mocha frappuccino after discovering you had sneaked in a sip or two prior—but now? Sharing commodities has become such second nature to you two that sometimes you wish he could return to his germophobic days just so you can hog all the food…

...and maybe to relive whatever magical flutters that had befallen you on that very first day.

“Of coursh ish delicious!” he manages to exclaim incoherently. “Kim Sheokjin baked it afta all!” 

“Yeah,” you take a long moment to gulp and make room for more food, “I think I prefer the ones with custard—”

“—so it’s a perfect batch just like m—”

“—almost perfect.”

You could see yourself wink through the prideful glint in his eyes quickly plummet into a glare that has you laughing at the downfall of his indestructible ego. His playful glare through the corner of his narrowed eyes silently commences yet another one of your daily staring challenges. Maybe that’s why the two of you made such a perfect pair amongst the thousands of classmates at school. After all, how would Jin ever find someone as tolerant of his incessant dad jokes and perpetual ego as you are? And how would you ever find someone who would bake you goods and cook you lunch and, not to mention, spout such peculiar humor? 

All of your classmates had dubbed the two of you as the perfect comedy duo—the dumb and the dumber, the silly and the sillier—that, apparently, is the essence of a match made in heaven, albeit probably meant to be more platonically than romantically. 

Both too stubborn to lose, even in a meaningless game of a staring contest, not even the heat of the sun rays that has you two nearly sweating bullets could deter the match. Eventually, seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into a frenzy frozen moment in time as you start to fall into the sudden abyss you found yourself in that is the warmth pool of his eyes. 

Perhaps it’s the angle at which the rays strike theatrically on the apples of his cheeks, illuminating his dewy skin and enhancing the chocolate hues of his orbs hidden underneath the matching brown locks of his all whilst his eyes happen to be staring right back at you. You’ve never quite felt this way before—heart palpitating, throat constricting, and mind panicking—but for the first time ever, you’re hesitant in allowing your best friend to peer through the windows to your soul. 

This isn’t good. What would he do if he were to discover your frenzy? Would he tease you to no ends? 

Worse yet, would he falsely assume that you’re hardcore crushing on him…?

“Oh God,” you blurt out, breaking eye contact to avert your head to the side across the street. Your lips begin to mumble whatever comes first to mind, “uh, wow, look at that couple. Ugh, PDA—” your eyes flicker to find Jin raising a brow just before your eyes avert once again and he follows your line of sight “—am I right?” 

“Oh c’mon! Just admit it,” Jin chides. “You’re only using this to disguise the fact that you were just about to blink, weren’t you?” 

“I was not about to blink,” you insist but your shifty gaze tells the both of you otherwise, even if the true lack of confidence is unbeknownst to Jin. “You suck at staring contests. How many times have I won before? I was just distracted, okay?”

“Oh yeah?” Jin crosses his arms. “Distracted by what, then? Huuuh? By my devastatingly good looks?”

“No!” you exclaim almost too adamantly that you have to add in a nervous laugh at the end, which only has Jin staring at you in utter disbelief. Feigning an apologetic pressed smile, you gesture your hands in the direction of the couple supposedly hidden behind a fence but clearly exposed to those on a hill, otherwise known as you two. “I meant them—”

“—ew!”

The both of you exclaim in unison, selflessly covering the tarnished eyes of the other and ducking away from the moment of intimacy that you two had just intruded on. 

“Aw, cmon! Even after graduation, too?” Jin remarks, mouth gaping and hands falling from your shielded eyes only to be thrown to his side in bewilderment. “Does everyone really have to remind us just how lonely we are even on our last day?” 

“You mean how lonely we are and how lonely we will be for the rest of our lives?”

“For the rest of our lives?” Jin quirks a brow at you before shaking his head and shrugging. “Dang, that wasn’t exactly my plan, because the world will be forced to acknowledge my looks sooner or later, but I mean, in your case…”

“What?!” you gasp in disbelief, slapping his arm hard enough for him to wince. “What do you mean ‘in your case?’ I bet you haven’t even kissed someone yet!” 

Jin snarls at you as he pulls his arm back and retorts, “yeah? And I bet you haven’t either!” 

“Actually, I have, with Joon at that party last year,” you say smugly, crossing your arms with a chin held high, “and you just admitted you haven’t had your first kiss yet.”

“Psh, yeah, I haven’t, and?" the boy holds his head high akin to a child arguing with his body and not with his words. “Because I prefer to save it for something meaningful unlike someone here.” 

“Hey, are you insinuating that it wasn’t meaningful?”

“You’ve always told me how much you hated parties!” he throws his hands up. “Plus, you don’t even like Joon! You said his breath stinks!” 

“Well—” you pause but no words come to you except for a loud grunt “—ugh, fine. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he turns away, leaning into his right hand with an elbow propped against his crisscrossed lap. “I’m Kim Seokjin, after all.” 

Following suit, you mumble into your propped hand, “I guess that’s why we’re friends in the first place. Together and, yet, still forever alone.”

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush warmth against your skin. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards, right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would wonder how you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifelong commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep it at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

❀ ❀ ❀

That must have been the last time you had met up with Jin in person. Shortly after graduation, the two of you had parted ways as many are forced to do in order to embark on their lives as full-fledged adults. Being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Jin had been lucky enough to receive a job offer straight out of college with the help of family connections; although, even without his family name, you whole-heartedly believe he still would have managed on his own based off of his unparalleled work ethic that you had the chance to witness firsts-handedly. 

On the other hand, your parents had advised you to stay home, which happened to mean you would be stuck in the same town of your college, until you finally landed a decent job where you had met Alex and established a new life. Unfortunately, like life always does, all that busywork meant sacrificing contact with your best friend somewhere along the way.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

“Ah, shit,” you mutter under your breath as you stop in the midst of your tracks down the black-marbled hallway, gritting your teeth and composing yourself just as you’ve done countless times around your less than friendly colleagues. Taking a deep breath in and out, you put on a pleased smile and whirl around to find the face of a familiar boy in your most recent reveries. “Ahh, hey, Jin... It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Ah,” the man, who seems to have grown at least or three inches since you had last seen him, scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight… how have you been?”

This is awkward. So painfully awkward. 

“Me? Oh, I’ve been alright. Life. Adulting. You know the drill,” you press a thin smile. “Actually, I’m surprised to be seeing you here tonight. I still remember us whining all throughout college over being forever alone, and yet here we are… at your engagement party… life can be funny, huh?” 

“Y—” he stutters, scratching the back of his neck “—yeah… it can be.” 

“So,” you chirp in a fruitless attempt to lift the suffocating atmosphere, “the wedding is coming up pretty soon! Feeling good or is someone getting cold feet?” 

He shakes his head weakly, “I wear socks to sleep.” 

“Wh—” you pause for a quick second, blinking blankly at his soft chuckle and following suit shortly after “—why do your jokes sound like you’re 22 again?” 

The man shrugs with a helpless smile hinted in the corners of his lips; and when it happens—you don’t know how or when the silence had whisked you away into a past time—you find him gazing at you with that fondness of a sole friend who endlessly shared and fought informidable woes with you. Perhaps you’re a hopeless romantic frozen between the fork of two roads that have long closed, for you swear you can see your own reflection through his warm brown eyes and you surmise the only possible answer to the question that lingers in your mind. 

He must see the same friend in you, that girl he would only call friend.

“You’ve been preparing your whole life for this, or, actually, maybe I should say we’ve been preparing,” you smile to stifle the lurching ache in your chest, “I guess I’m the only fool waiting for her turn now.” 

A weep cracks the laugh you force out of your knotted throat. Immediately, you turn your head to avoid his watchful gaze and tuck a lock of hair behind an ear whilst discretely ridding any traces of waterworks welling in your vision. You think you must have gotten away with the feigned laugh and turn, a routine you had mastered at your previous work, but the gradual dissolution of the curve on his lips settles into an unreadable flatline more resembling a frown than anything; because even after all these years, he can still read you like an open book. 

So, if he could see through your every facade even now, then why does he not remember? You know you shouldn’t hold it against him, such a silly promise built on a lonesome pair of naive hearts,  but you can’t help it when a single word paints your conscience. 

Why?

Why can’t he remember? 

Your shared promises, your birthday, your memories, and... you?

“Y/N,” Jin begins gently, hesitating in place once he takes a step forward and you flinch, “about the wedding date…”

He waits for you to reply, supposedly for ‘whenever you were ready’, as he always does during those fragile lows of yours. 

To avoid letting loose any more unneeded drama, you can only manage a hum, “mm?”

“I…” he pauses and sighs. “I know it’s your birthday.”

A hitch in your breath is audible. You clamp your lips tightly and nod, uttering lowly, “yeah.”

“I want you to know I didn’t decide the date, Y/N,” he says firmly, “my father did.” 

“And?” you quip suddenly, eyes darting to shoot a glower deadly enough for him to twitch in evident hurt. There, you went ahead and did it. As hard as you had spent the past months muting your rawest reaction to the envelope in your mailbox, all the pent up frustration and sheer sorrow for a lost future came whiplashing just as hard. “And you couldn’t tell your father to change the date? Maybe one day after? Or two?” 

“You know I would have asked if I could, Y/N,” he bites his tongue to state sternly, “but how would he understand? Change it for… for what—”  he laughs cruelly in the midst of his burst “—for the birthday of a best friend I lost contact with for five whole years?! That’s so… so dumb—” 

“—dumb…?”

The crack in your voice leads to a stagnant silence over what is clearly a no man’s land. Betrayal visibly paints across your face, the momentary display of having wronged his closest ally stains his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t meant that...”

“‘...yeah, you’re right,” you scoff, “I’m dumb for waiting five whole damn years’ because you wouldn’t fucking text me or call me to ask how I was doing!”

“Me?” he asks in disbelief, gawking and pointing an accusatory finger. “You wouldn’t even pick up your phone! I called you for a month after I moved!” 

“I couldn’t pay for my phone, alright?! I was living with my parents and scrambling to find a job, any fucking low wage job, and I couldn’t sit all day in my room waiting for your calls because I’m not born with a silver spoon stuck in my ass!” 

At this point, the conversation had somehow contorted into an all out brawl of words, a challenge to see who could blame the other for the unsaid confessions lost in communication. The two of you staring down the other, chest heaving and jaws clenching and brows knitting, if it weren’t for your fortunate location tucked in the hallway hidden from the main room, you would not have allowed yourself to fall, lost somewhere in the depth of his eyes. 

“Why are you so upset?” a weak, hopeless laugh tumbles from his confused, pained expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be happy for me?” 

“I—” something gets caught in your throat and you have to choke it out “—I am. I am happy for you. I’m not upset, no…”

Jin reaches a hand out to your cheek when he notices your tears but immediately retracts his notion when you flinch backwards. The boy frowns in concern, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. How did I upset you?”

“Nothing,” you frantically shake your head that hangs low, using the back of your hands to smear every sign of contradiction on your face. “I just—” your breath shakes and an impending series of hiccups begins to kick in “—I’m silly. I should be happy for my best friend. I mean, I am happy. I’m just being dumb.” 

“What?” Jin carefully takes a step forward. “No you’re not—”

“—I’m dumb, okay, Jin?” you finally muster the courage to lift your sights to find his own confused ones. “It’s been five whole years and I’m embarrassed for taking a joke of a promise so seriously when my best friend doesn’t even remember making it!” 

The scrunch in his brows and lost resolution only reverberate the deafening ache in your chest. “The promises…? Y/N, I—”

“—it’s fine,” you blurt. Shaking your head and stumbling backwards, you look him straight in the eyes to say your last words before the fading knocks of your heels against the wood are all that he hears. “It's my fault for believing in a foolish fairytale anyways.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It’s almost like a fever dream when you recall just how confidently you had spat those spiteful words and furthermore dared to depart with that sheer satisfaction and the slightest aftertaste of alcohol residing on your tongue that night; but now that you’re awake, sober, and without the power of liquor, there’s nothing that can pull you out of your greatest nightmare most recently manifested into reality. 

“Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that?” 

The incessant grumbles tumble freely from your lips whilst you pace back and forth in the corner of the office. Typically, your colleagues would describe you as composed, reserved, and the level-headed half of an otherwise wild pair with Alex. This morning, however, they begin to question everything they’ve ever known about you as they watch through the corner of their averting eyes. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone!” Alex hisses under her breath along with the threatening glares she shoots at the audience. Considering how long you’ve been going at your mental breakdown, it doesn’t take very long for your shuffling footsteps and mumbling gibberish to transcend into yet another white noise in the office; and once the majority of the passersby settle on the new revelation of your hidden crazed nature, Alex hastily storms to your side as you begin banging your head against the wall. “Why would you throw a tantrum at your best friend’s engagement party?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying…” you pause momentarily to groan before proceeding to damage whatever is left of your seemingly deteriorating brain. “Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do—”

“—not to mention, an ex best friend who never even knew about your unrequited feelings—”

—she comes to an abrupt stop when she finds the deadliest scowl in your dart-like eyes. No words are exchanged but the lethal consequences are clear enough to grant you her silence and the continuance of your destruction. 

“Why the hell did I do that, Alex?” you whimper, taking a break from your antics because, damn, your forehead is really starting to hurt. “Whyyyyyyy did you have to leave me alone? Maybe Jin wouldn’t have found me and I wouldn’t have had to confront him over something that shouldn’t even matter anymore! I-I barely even know him… it’s been five years and, suddenly, here I am, voila! At his engagement banquet, yelling in his face and getting mad over feelings that aren’t even his fault!” 

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol.”

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol,” you retort. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh along with the scowl plastered across your face. Your next words come out more as a helpless confession of fear than a rhetorical question to be answered. “Do you think he… hates me…?”

Alex observes you for a lingering second, perhaps contemplating between a merciful albeit exacerbating answer and a merciless albeit helpful answer. She speaks carefully, treading dangerous water, “well… would you like him to?”

“I don’t know,” you shut your eyes to heave yet another sigh because that weight in your chest refuses to leave you alone. An unapologetic swinging of the door and a series of loud, wide strided footsteps that follow have your brows furrowing and it takes everything in you and Alex, judging by the sudden shuffles you hear by your side, to finish the rare heart-to-heart conversation. “I think… I think if he hated me, maybe that would extinguish that part of me from the past. If he hated me, I would be able to get over it. Maybe I would hate him too, out of spite, but at least I would be able to get over—””

“—it…? Over what, Y/N?”

Over what? It takes you much longer than it should have for you to surmise the most probable answer to her question, an answer you were never willing to admit and an answer you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to admit even now. 

“You know what I’m implying, Alex,” you sigh, shutting your eyes even tighter when a rising heat marks your cheeks. “I want to get over—”

—but your words are cut short by a familiar voice that has your heart racing and striking an unprecedented strife in the mayhem that is your systemic state...

“You can’t possibly hate me, Y/N,” he proudly proclaims and you can practically hear him smiling, “no one ever hates Kim Seokjin.” 

...and when your eyes finally flutter open, you find the man, who had only seemed like a phenomenon of your feverish dream a second ago, standing before you and adorning that signature smile with raised cheek apples and crescent-like eyes that has yet to change under the influence of time and distance. 

“W-What are you doing here…?” you barely manage to utter. Eyes flickering around your surroundings, from Jin’s broad shoulders that shield nearly the entirety of a helpless albeit buoyant Alex, to your colleagues who fail to discreetly whisper over the lavishly suited mystery of a man, and finally back to the bouquet of pastel flowers wrapped with a bright pink bow. Brows furrowing, you struggle to organize your thoughts and even go so far as to check for the dent in your reddish forehead in a vain attempt to dispel the mind tricks. When the mirage before you fails to dissipate into thin air like sand, you slowly turn to face the wall again only to have your antics disrupted by his refreshingly cold hand on your burning forehead ; and when you turn, you find Jin’s mischievous smile growing wider by the second. “H-how do you know where I work…?”

“I’m your best friend, Y/N. Have you somehow forgotten after all that head banging?” Jin scoffs in disbelief, gawking with a chuckle. Suddenly, he leans in to grab your right hand firmly in his own, squeezing twice as he had always done and leading you toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go recover those memories of yours, eh?” 

“Wait, wait,” you nearly stumble over your own feet at the pace he’s going, struggling to catch your breath when he bursts through the last door and a blast of freezing wind envelops the clash of the heat reverberating from your beating heart. “I have to go back! I still have work! And, and… and where in the world are you even taking me?” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N, so many dumb questions for someone who always topped my grades,” the boy holds the bouquet of flowers out toward you, refusing to continue until you reluctantly accept his gift with your left hand against your chest. Smiling at your reluctant acceptance, Jin turns his back on you and proceeds to march into the parking lot but his now warm hands intertwined with your now cold hands never loosens its grip. 

It’s been a long five years of waiting to finally relish in the hold of his familiarly slim, often teased albeit self-praised double-jointed hands, but, now that you’re finally living in it, you’re sure it was all worth it… even if the crashing flames at the end of this road is an inevitable, foreseeable future.

“Jin,” you frown as you stare at Jin’s opening of the car door and gesture of an invitation, reluctantly seating yourself in his sumptuous car. “I failed half of my exams... remember?”

The boy’s laughs can still be heard even through the closed door as he makes his way around the car front, all whilst swinging the keys in his forefinger. His cackling steps an abrupt many levels of decibels higher when the opposing door opens and he plops into the driver seat. “That never stopped you from boasting, did it?” 

Without the flare of your usual clever quips, you purse your lips in silence and subconsciously hug the bouquet closer to your chest to keep his space as unoccupied by your presence. The sudden turn of events has your head spinning and your heart racing enough for the thumps to be felt by your hands. 

How did he find out where you worked? Where was he even taking you and what was he planning to do with you? Why was he acting as if you had not angered him just two nights ago? 

You don’t think you’ll be getting the answer any time soon, particularly the latter question, but when your stomach growls loudly, eliciting a crackle of a laugh from Jin, the awkward tension in your muscles eases ever so slightly. 

“...s-sorry… I skipped breakfast.”

“I know,” he puts the car into neutral at the red light and turns to peer at you with a smug look that says he could still read you like an open book, “because you always skip breakfast. I hid some pastry in the bouquet.” 

“What?” you scrunch your nose but immediately dive your scavenging hands into the flowers; and sure enough, you find your favorite cream-filled bread of his warm in your hands and you can’t stifle the smile that spreads on your lips. “Why would you even do that?”

“Well, in case you suddenly got really jacked and physically refused to come with me, then at least you would have something to eat.”

“No,” you giggle, “I meant why would you hide the bread in the bouquet…”

His eyes brighten like a lightbulb, as if only now recalling the genius plan he had crafted himself, “oh, because then you can sneak a bite without having to leave your desk! It always worked with our backpacks, didn’t it?” 

Your sights fall to the bouquet and you can only reply with a sheepish grin, “right… it sure did.”

The engine purrs to life again when the light turns green and the remainder of the car ride is filled with the smooth drift of his ride and the ceaseless albeit completely welcomed humming from his lips. The old Jin never had enough of an incentive to drive, although his parents always suggested gifting him a brand new car and you had begged him to take the offer out of boredom and a never-ending desire to escape far away from university, but something about this moment in time has you feeling cozy, belonging, and at home. It’s almost like it was meant to be. 

But the silver ring shining around his finger under the angle of the sun is a dreadful reminder that it isn’t. 

So, as a slap to yourself back into reality, you fracture this perfect moment you would have once framed in that hopeless mind of yours, “so… how did you find out where I worked?”

“Ah,” his right hand casually slips onto the back of your headrest. “Still haven’t figured out, rank 292?”

“No, I haven’t, rank 295.” 

“First,” he raises a finger, “I asked some people through the grapevines and eventually your friend Alex gave out.”

Grumbling under your breath, you curse, “damn it, Alex.”

“And second,” he raises another finger before proclaiming firmly, “I’m proving you wrong.” 

“Proving me wrong?” you articulate with a scoff. “You’re going to prove me wrong? Right, keep dreaming.”

“I’m not going to prove you wrong, I am proving you wrong," he insists before shifting the car to neutral and leaning in toward you, gaze brimming with conviction locked with your own wary ones, as if ready to spill a secret sworn by the two of you and hidden from the rest of the universe. 

He's close enough for his minty breath to graze your burning cheeks, to breathe a vigorous life previously unknown by your dull five years. Heart pumping and lungs barely working, daring not to budge for being caught under the sway of his gravitational force, you can hardly catch him when he finally speaks.

"I haven't forgotten, Y/N,” he utters, “I'm a man of my word."

❀ ❀ ❀

Promise one. 

"I'll cook every meal for you for an entire day."

Promise two. 

"I'll bring flowers to you at work."

His unabashed, overly detailed tactic to ask for your hand in marriage still echoes from a time long past. Hopes for those promises were weakened by each passing second but unequivocally unassailed at birth. Eventually, smothered and disheartened, you had been forced to cut ties and confront the reality of broken promises and broken dreams. You had once somehow convinced yourself things would never return to the ways they once were, and, yet, here he is having returned by your side and here you are enraptured by the utter joy in his laughs after all this wavering time. 

It's like a dream come true; and if this indeed all just a nightmarish dream bound to death, you wish you never swore allyship to this alcohol, for now your only wish is for it to succumb you into a deep, long slumber. 

“I toooooooold you I don’t like paaaaasta!” you whine, the drag of your voice manifesting in white puffs in the still chilly spring air. The sudden transition between the warmth of his house to the frozen world outside has you spiraling into a series of trips and stumbles; and as always, your best friend Jin is the only one to hold you up, which is a good thing considering how you would’ve been tumbling into the death trap of a river beneath this bridge. “So whyyyy did you make me pastaaaaaaa? Whyyyyyyy?”

“What? Why’re you blaming me?” he retorts, obviously taking offence. “You always loved pasta! You ate it every single day at uni!” 

“I diiiiid love pasta,” you say through barely parted lips, “but it’s all just… just carbs, carbs, carbssss…” 

“Since when did you care about carbs?” Jin frowns, poking your cheeks that lean against his sturdy arms. “Should I call the police?” 

Your brows furrow and you lift your head to narrow your eyes at him, “what? Why?” 

And as soon as those words slip from your lips and he raises his finger-gun hands, you wish you hadn’t asked in the first place. 

“Because I think you’re an impasta,” his finger guns transform into jazz hands after you stare at him in dumbfounded silence, “...badumtsss….”

A series of empty blinks are exchanged, as if neither of you had just witnessed his most tragic dad joke to date; and so, you swiftly continue with a sigh, “I think… I think I started caring ever since heee mentioned I was getting fat.”

“I can’t believe you just ignored my unprecedented joke…” he grumbles to himself but lets out a little huff when he catches you from tipping over. Wordlessly, he hooks his arm with yours to keep you close to him. “And this ‘he’ you mention, who’s he?” 

“Heee.” 

“Who? Who’s ‘heeee’?” he spouts with pouty lips and a raised chin, flailings his body, and therefore yours, about every which way like a toddler. “Who’s this man I have to beat up, huh? He better square up!”

“I don’t think you could beat him up…” you mumble, eyes heavy but determined enough to reach his own flabbergasted ones. “It’s Jooooon, dummy, Kim-Nam-Joon, the boy I shared my first kiiiiss with…”

“Kim Namjoon?!” his eyes widen. “You think I wouldn’t be able to beat up that nerd?!”

You almost manage to push Jin away the foot of the bridge if it weren’t for his firm lock around you. “Have you seen his muscles?! He might not look like it with his books and all but he worked out all the time!”

“Yeah, well,” his lips sputter, “well, have you seen my muscles?!”

“No—” you freeze when you realize the sturdiness of his arm against your head is existing proof against your word, and maybe it’s because of his obvious flexing at this moment, but you could not believe just how built his arms had grown in the past five years, “—and I don’t want to.” 

“Hah! You just don’t want to admit that I’m right. C’mon, I’ll show you. You feel it, huh? You feel it?” he flexes persistently, twisting and turning to maximize his little showcase. “So? You think I can beat him up now?” 

“Well…” your voice trails off, mind clearly preoccupied with sticking your cheeks to his arm like glue in a somewhat fruitful attempt to hide the flush in your face. “You don’t really need to beat him up…”

“What?” he almost yells. “Why not? He called you fat!”

“Well, he…” your shoulders rise with each confession, “he said one of my dresses looked tight on me…”

“And?”

“...and he wasn’t exactly wrong…”

“So?”

“...so he didn’t actually say anything offhandedly…”

“What? You should’ve told me earlier!” Jin exclaims, arms thrown high into the air and consequently pushing your helpless self onto the hillside grass beside the run of the river. Lips gaping and eyes popping, you watch him in full offense as he mumbles to himself before resuming his stroll down the hill. “And here I am getting worked up over nothing… can’t believe I thought I could play hero for once…”

“Hey, Jin, what do you mean by that?” you call out to him. “Wait! I said wait for me, Jin!”

When your rhetorical questions are answered with silence, you hasten to your feet in order to catch up with those damn wide strides of his. Damn it, how did he make it halfway down the hill already? Each of your exclamations are unsurprisingly disobeyed by the boy who just throws his head back over his shoulder with that cheeky grin of his as he quickened his pace. Following suit, your strides turn into a jog and your jogs turn into a full out sprint until the both of you are full on running the 100 meters dash, one chasing and one fleeing, wind blowing refreshingly into your heated face and into your tangled locks and inflated lungs that relish in the breath of life. 

In the midst of all the chaotic bliss of an epiphany, you find yourself screaming and laughing at the top of your lungs...

“Hey! Jin! I swear I”m gonna kick your ass!”

...and it’s at this moment in time that you realize having forgotten what it means to be a fool who lived and not to live to be a fool. 

At some point in time, after having caught up to the knucklehead and giving a piece of your mind, the two of you settle down along the concrete ledge beside the river after a jittery, welcomed high. The sunset that followed was a pleasant surprise that had you two reminiscing over the countless mornings and evenings you had spent watching the sun rise and set together whilst churning throughout tireless exam nights. Pink, golden streaks now hidden behind a thick coating of midnight blue embellished by magical glitters all throughout, tonight’s stargazing becomes a first for the two of you. 

As much as you hoped you could numb yourself from the inevitable aftereffects of this death wish of a dreamy day, you can’t help but smile, thankful to have been completely sober to engrave this night into memory. 

“So...” Jin’s utter is the first to break the silence. He turns his head to give you a playful look of eyes that beams with wary curiosity, “...you started dating Namjoon after I left?”

“Mm… maybe,” you hum, “why? Got a problem with that?”

“What? Psh, what? Why would I have a problem with that?” he snorts. “The only problem I would have is the fact that you never asked me for permission.”

Your eyes widen, almost threateningly, “are you saying I need permission from a man to date another man? Not to mention a man who abandoned me without warning!” 

“Okay, first of all, it’s not my fault you cancelled your phone plan! I called and called, I tried everything I could even though I was deadbeat tired every day. It’s not my fault I thought you hated my guts! So please just understand that I didn’t abandon you, alright?” he spills in an endless stream akin to a water faucet left on the highest setting, clearly a performance either practiced in private or incited by years of pent up pressure. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his fiery red ears and the accompanying whistle manifesting into words; and by the time his chest is heaving, his lungs are panting and very dramatically so, and his eyes flicker nervously between you and the passing water, you can’t help but snicker. Unsurprisingly, your lack of empathy elicits an unamused look on his face. “Hey, hey, what’re you laughing at, huh?” 

“Me? Oh, nothing,” your hands move into your laps and you bat your eyes innocently, “it’s just that I can’t believe you’re blaming me, a helpless, poor girl with absolutely no connections, for cancelling her phone plan as a last resort to make ends meet.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns with an accusatory finger, “don’t you dare think I’ll fall for that eye blinking and whatever cute act you’re playing up again!” 

“Why?” you pout, almost cringing at your own antics. “Am I not cute?”

“No, you’re hurting my eyes. Plus, if anyone’s cute here,” he declares adamantly before puffing his cheeks and poking one with his forefinger, “it’s me.”

The both of you stare at the other for a stagnant few seconds, one completely dedicated to his performance and the other utterly flabbergasted by what plays out before her. 

The only word you manage to crank out is a, “uh…”

“What do you think?” he raises another finger to poke his other cheek. “I practiced just for you.” 

“Um… you’re 27 now, Jin.”

“So?” he tilts his head in the other direction. “Still 22 and young at heart.”

“Yeah? Then I’m still 22 and still equally disgusted by aegyo—” just as he parts his lips to provide another rebuttal, you quickly add in “—by your aegyo.” 

And just like that, the man drops his boyish character just as quickly as he had stepped into it. He mumbles, dropping his hands and shooting an equivocate look at you, “okay, tough crowd. Sorry, ma’am.”

It shouldn’t have been that hilarious nor should your response been so delayed, but it only takes a split second of his surrender for a thunderous cackle to slip from your lips. Throwing your head back and peering at the dangling stars above, you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath of the incoming wind. The fresh petrichor of spring and the earthiness of mowed grass whisks themselves into the cold, clean breeze from the vast body of water. Thin locks of hair grazes across your cheeks, swaying in the wind as does your spirit. Years are lifted from your shoulders and all that is left is the heaviness that remains in your chest; nevertheless, you have never felt so free from the past. 

“Also,” he adds nonchalantly, cocking his head to look at you, “I wasn’t speaking from the position of a man. I was speaking as a best friend. As your best friend.” 

And just like that, sitting side by side and sharing a cool breeze, it’s almost as if all these moments of remorse, spilled tears, and unreleased frustration were made to build the climax to this grand finale: the night you can finally speak your truth. 

“It’s funny how things never change, huh?” you say when your eyes flutter open and you find Jin looking over with a fondness identical to the one you’ve spotted years before. “We can split for five years, thinking one hates the other’s guts, and reunite again as best friends… as if nothing had ever happened.”

Jin chuckles, hands grabbing to the ledge and head lolling back to join you but his eyes remain fixated on you, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Are we vampires and we just don’t know it?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure either… not sure about the good thing and not the vampire thing, that is,” your laugh settles into silence when you spot the reflected light inflicted by the ring around his finger, sitting on the ledge just an inch away from yours. Close enough to touch but far enough to confirm an unequivocal truth. Sighing, you turn your head to meet his intent gaze with a bittersweet upturn to your lips, “normally, I really despise the idea of change; but lately, when I think about how things might never change between us, how we’ll always banter as a pair of stupid best friends, I start wanting it more than ever.”

Is this the moment? Is it all really happening right now? Judging by the course of your blithe actions, if change is what you’re looking for, then change is what will surely ensue after tonight. Whether for the good or for the worse, you’ll take a reluctant guess of the latter. 

The man scrunches his brows before playing it off with a nervous laugh, “what do you mean things haven’t changed? You dated Namjoon, probably got it on a few times here or there—”

“—what—”

“—please don’t confirm,” he butts in with a raised hand, “and I have, too. Sure things have changed!”

“Ooh?” you raise a brow, genuinely shocked. “You finally got some experience under your belt? I’m impressed, Mr. Kim.”

“Hey,” he scolds, “what do you mean by ‘impressed?’” 

“Well, I should’ve known… figuring you’re about to be a married man and all…” you mumble, forcing a smile despite the sudden dip in your mood. Turning your head to stare off into the opposite end of the river where the black silhouette of skyscrapers lie, you curse yourself mentally. You really thought you could get away with the inevitable truth for the entire day? “You know, I can’t believe I almost forgot that you’re getting married in less than a week. Almost like how I couldn’t believe you almost forgot our promises.”

“I told you Kim Seokjin is a man of his words.”

“You sure about that? Promise one: cook for me for an entire day. Check. Promise two: gift me flowers at work. Check,” you turn around once again to look him firmly in the eyes and it’s almost as if the both of you know what’s about to come next. “What about the three other promises, Kim Seokjin?” 

“Y/N…” his voice trails off but his gaze never leaves yours, almost as if too afraid to be misconstrued as another betrayal. 

Quick-mindedly, you chime, “stop looking at me so seriously! I’m just joking! Promise three: you won’t break my heart. How could you after a wonderful day like this? Promise four: you won’t forget our promises. Clearly, you remember. And promise five: you’ll keep all your promises. Check.”

“Y/N,” he stifles every wince but you can tell by the way his feet have stopped kicking into the void. “I don’t think I’ve kept all those promises.” 

“Well,” you shrug, pressing your lips into a line tightly, “I only see checks in my book, Jin. You’re good to go—”

“—no, Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he says sternly; and when your mouth falls agape and your head slightly nods, his wary eyes searching for a steady sign in the windows to your soul, he continues calmly, “my marriage is actually an arranged marriage.”

“Your—” you blink blankly, jaw almost falling to the floor “—your, you, what?”

An arranged marriage. 

All this time, all this pain, all this heartbreak of wanting to do something about your feelings but remaining hopeless because of an unrequited love… turns out to be an active, fully conscious decision? Not a falling out of love, not a helpless affection for another woman, but a matchmaking handcrafted without the heavens?

“My,” he has to stop himself just as his breath hitches, “my father... arranged it. ” 

“What? Why? Is it because he prefers you with a well off family?” 

“What? No,” he shakes his head with a slight upcurve to his lips that you’ve never quite seen before. Watching him hook a hand to the nape of his neck, clearly avoiding your eyes, you have an inkling of something much worse than the presented news. “You know my father would never do that… it has nothing to do with money...”  

“But you left this town for money, didn’t you? For a better job, a better pay, a better life, and for the sake of your dignity as a dutiful son, are you telling me none of those were related to money?” 

His eye twitches by your name-calling, clearly pained once again despite knowing very well of your precedent dislike toward his silver spoon background and his nonnegotiable obedience. Each second of silence culminates a tension even more formidable than the last. Guilt intoxicates your boiling blood enough for you to bite your tongue and hold yourself back; because after accusing him of holding onto his dignity, you, yourself, could not forfeit that of your own either. 

Worse yet, you’re a complete hypocrite. 

“Why can’t you just tell him to call it off?” 

You never knew silence could be so deafening.

“So… so do you...” you begin hesitantly. Usually, with your eyes locked with his, a thousand words would have been exchanged with each passing second; but now, with gazes that wade through the tides of the unknown, for the first time ever, you don’t recognize the mystery before you. “Do you... love her?” 

His lips part slowly, but no time in the world would be enough for him to find the right words. To you, his silence is as clear as any possible answer. Something sinks in you, perhaps after acknowledging the implications behind his choice to leave your question unanswered, but your blood boils from the audacity of those apologetic eyes that, even now, never stray from yours… as if this minute of sincerity would be enough to mend the inevitable decade of scars. 

You begin slowly, failing to hide the shakiness of your deep breaths, “...then what about the baby?”

“What baby...?” his face contorts with a frown until, out of the blue, something flickers across his numerous expressions: confusion, remembrance, contemplation. His hesitation that ensues might have been fleeting but its infliction upon your shattered trust will surely remain. “Oh, that… that was just a rumor my aunt spread because of the sudden marriage.” 

“And,” you force yourself to breathe, scattering for something, anything to throw at him, “and you don’t think you could’ve told me sooner?”

The man scrunches his brows, “and that would’ve helped, how?” 

“‘How?’” you repeat, as if it was the dumbest question you had ever heard. Mirroring his expression, your eyes avert between him and the river as scoffs of utter disbelief escape you. “‘How?’ What do you mean ‘how?’”

“I mean exactly that!” his voice suddenly escalates to a level of frustration you’ve never quite heard from him before. “How would it have changed anything? Why would you need to know earlier?”

Gawking, you exasperate desperately, “you know why!” 

“No, I might be your best friend but don’t expect me to just read your mind!”

“It’s cause...” you swing your leg over the ledge to face the sidewalk with your back on Jin as soon as you could feel an incoming constriction at the back of your throat, a notorious sign shared just between the two of you that waterworks were about to appear. Breathing slowly and doing just about everything to keep your voice from shaking, and fruitlessly so, you mumble before standing to your feet, “...you know what? I don’t even know anymore. I’m sorry. Nevermind.”

Why did you ever think you would have a chance? 

Is this it? Is this really it? The end? 

The questions come crashing into you as you make your retreat, head hanging low and palms drying the inconvenient tears that mark your face. After all the confidence you had built up, after finally thinking—actually, believing—you could get over him tonight, how humiliating is it that you’re now running away from a reality that would eventually and inevitably engulf you? 

The worst part of it is, Jin, like the best friend and good man that he is, persists to chase after you. You don’t have to hear the quickened footsteps of his usual wide, well-paced strides to know he’s coming. You don’t have to hear the calls he makes on the top of his lungs for you to know he’s on his way. 

As someone who so helplessly fell in love with their best friend, you just know he would be there through thick and thin—whether you like it or not. 

“Y/N!” Jin hollers; and when he finally catches up to you, having to sprint and consequently inciting for you to surrender with an abrupt stop to your path, every bit of air is knocked from your lungs. Arms wrapping over your waist and enveloping you into a tight hug, you can feel his heart pounding against your back. 

To most, it should have been the perfect method to comfort a crying friend; so, damn it, why does it only make you cry harder? 

“What?” your voice cracks as you just barely manage to smear the following tears within the wrap of his bear hug. “Damn it, Jin, why can’t you leave me alone for once?”

Head resting on yours, his voice is muffled by your hair as he murmurs, “I can’t just leave my best friend crying like that. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.” 

He embraces you. He embraces you not only physically through the silence but also through the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it. He, Kim Seokjin, your best friend, holds you through the ups and downs and the rights and the wrongs. He even holds you now, comforting you in the hurricane that you brewed without ever knowing and never caring that he had, in fact, not committed any wrongdoing. If anything, you must be in the wrong. 

And when you put it that way, how could you blame yourself for falling in love with him?

“Jin… I’m sorry, I tried everything to stop myself but,” your voice shakes but your courage prospers, “but I just, I just really, really love you.” 

A second passes. 

Now, two. 

Then, three. 

Something strikes against your chest when the surreality of the situation settles into reality. His silence could mean many things, but the tightening of his embrace could only mean one. Blood flushes your cheeks as you lament over his sensation of your fervent heartbeats. Secrets thrown out into the spring air, your heated cheeks are equally exposed to the passing, chilly zephyr. 

He knows you love him. At this moment, he can physically feel the proof of your love and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Sorry,” you manage to blurt under your breath, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said—”

—the remaining words dissipate into thin air when he places his hands firmly on your shoulder and whirls you around. Face just inches away from his, you barely catch wind of his declaration before the unthinkable occurs…

“Too late. I don’t want to.”

...and his lips meet yours. 

It’s everything you have ever imagined. Years of admiring those plush lips, wondering what it would be like to feel the warmth of those wonders pressed against yours, are finally coming to fruition… except they don’t. His hands fall from your shoulders to the small of your back, but your hands don’t intertwine behind the back of his neck like you imagined. Instead, they hover in midair, hesitant to embrace him in your arms. Why? With your eyes and his fluttered closed and an audible deep sigh that signals a desire finally satisfied from the both of you, reality still manages to twist a dream-come-true. 

Does he actually love you or does he only pity you?

Finally, and ever so suddenly, your hands firmly push against his chest to plant an arm’s distance from you and him.

“Sorry…” you pant, avoiding those intense eyes. “We… we can’t do this.” 

“What?” Jin raises a brow, taking a step forward as you take one back. “Why not?”

Wordlessly, you point at his ring finger.

“Oh,” he chuckles nervously, hand scratching the back of his neck. You can only watch his every move, your stare gradually becoming a glare. Rosy hues coloring his cheeks, he speaks sheepishly, “I forgot we’re in public.”

His nonchalance irks you to your core. There isn’t any other way to put it. Blithe and dense have always been your favorite traits of his, but now that he’s here? Planting buds he could never sustain and sending mixed signals despite knowing of your feelings in an unfitting circumstance were never things you knew Jin for.  

“I-I don’t get it, Jin,” you shake your head. “I don’t think we should see each other any more. In any context. Not even after the wedding.” 

With his hands buried into his pockets and shoulders high enough to hide his reddened ears, he glances up at you, alert. “What? Why? What don’t you get?”

“It’s ‘cause... I just don’t get… this. I don’t get us,” you articulate, struggling to find the right words. “Why are you so… nonchalant about this? Why are you kissing me? Is it out of pity? Is it because I said I liked you—”

“—Y/N,” he says lowly like the drop of his previously cheerful mien, “you know I would never do something like that.” 

“Then why?! Why are you doing this to me? Do you love her or not?” you pause for a second to stifle the crack in your voice but, alas, all is in vain. “...and do you even… love me?”

He frowns, the tension in his body evident by the knitting of his brows as he struggles, “I… Y/N...”

“So you can’t admit that you love her and you can’t even lie to say you love me. So why the hell are you throwing away an entire marriage just to kiss me?” your scoff comes out more so like a plea. “You’re confusing me, Jin—”

“—that’s,” he abruptly pauses to stop himself from exploding, taking a deep breath before continuing, “that’s exactly why I can’t say it, Y/N! I don’t want to confuse you. I don’t want to disappoint my father. I-I don’t want to complicate matters more!”

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?!”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know! It was a spur of the moment! I couldn’t stop myself from chasing after you and when I hugged you—I-I just wanted to, alright? I’m sorry.”

He’s... sorry. 

Sorry for kissing you, sorry for acting as if your feelings had been reciprocated, sorry for breaking all the promises he made and pretending like he was going to patch things up again tonight. Speaking your mind and hearing his words are all that you need to finally understand what you need to do. Your heart drops but you hold your head high because your final verdict is the right thing to do. Maybe this time you’ll finally be able to cease these useless feelings. What's the point in pursuing a hopeless love? 

The only one you would be hurting is yourself. 

This epiphany, in itself, is enough to drape an ephemeral clarity over your frenzic self; and just like a bandaid over a scar, you’re able to function, if only just temporarily.

“Hey, Jin?” you call out softly to the boy kicking at nothing on the bare sidewalk. It’s hard not to melt under the delicate glance he throws over his shoulder. “I’m not… mad. Well, I kind of am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry for everything that I said about your upbringing. I know how close you are to your family. I’m sure you’ve been under a lot of pressure…”

“No, Y/N,” he shakes his head, turning his body to face you with a low hanging head, “it’s my fault. Even considering all that, I still shouldn’t have done that or any of this. I… I’m sorry for confusing you.”

Forcing a composed smile, you persevere, “do you have your fiance’s number?”

Head lifting with a frown, he answers, “yeah, what kind of a fiance would I be if I didn’t? Why though?”

“Right,” you say to yourself under your breath, hearing his ‘fiance’ echo relentlessly in your head. “I just need it, okay? To… to sort out everything...”

And just when you wonder how insensitive could this boy get...

“What?” he chuckles. “Are you going to fight for me?”

...it gets worse.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a hard, well-deserved slap against the chest before snickering at his loud wince and declaring your one last confession of the night. 

“No, I could fight for us, but I won’t singlehandedly fight for you,” you then declare with a bitter smile, “I will, however, tell her how jealous I am.”

And that's your most irrefutable confession, one that has Jin stupefied for the future midnights to come.

❀ ❀ ❀

Morning arrives much sooner than you had anticipated. White puffs mark the air whilst you wrap yet another layer of scarf around your neck. It seems as though the breeze from a night ago had intentionally danced around town, lingering and spectating on the resolution of your five year long love conundrum. Ironically enough, the two of you reunite at the very spot where everything had first started… except this time, everything will finally end.

The pain he had marked in you inflicted by the words he could not bring himself to say still stains your every waking second.

“You have to do this. You can do this,” you incessantly chant to yourself, pacing back and forth beside the most prominent cherry blossom tree in town. “You have to do this. You can do this—”

“—Y/N, is that you?”

What you presume to be Youngji’s voice perks your ears. Looking up, you spot her holding a phone in her hands as she flickers between you and her screen. A quizzical quirk of the brow plasters across your face as you wave at her and she jogs over to you as quickly as she could in that pink, wool poncho and those tan, fluffy boots. “Hey, Youngji, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says in between each pant of breath, “that’s me.” 

Her hands immediately find refuge on her knees whilst she bends over to catch her breath. Typically, you’re the very self-aware type, but there isn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from staring. The girl strikes you as… flamboyant. With her dark red pigtails, bright smile, and dainty attire, she’s everything you’ve always imagined a female version of Jin would be like. It’s hard not to wonder… maybe an arranged marriage really can be a match made in heaven, but you force yourself out of that rabbit hole before having another breakdown in front of an innocent stranger. 

The tang of jealousy, however, refuses to budge. 

“Sorry, for,” she pants, holding her hand up to show you her phone screen, “calling out to you like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you squint at the sight of the screen displaying a candid photo of you, taken on this very street on that very day, as you stuffed one of his breads in your mouth. Drawn on your face is a mustache and a unibrow. “Did Jin do—”

“—Jin gave me a terrible reference photo.” 

Scoffing, you cross your arms, “damn it, Jin.”

Youngji crackles into a firework of uncontrollable laughter, rendering you stupefied. After a literal minute passes by, she finally manages to speak in between the bursts of giggles that follow, “you two—” giggle “—really are—” giggle “—close, huh?” And as a grand finale, she slaps her stomach with a loud sigh of relief that her laughs have come to an end. When she notices you staring at her bewilderedly, a light bulb flashes through her as she gasps and feigns a whimper, “o-oh! Ow! M-my baby!”

“You know you don’t have to pretend, right?” you can only let out a laugh of disbelief because you still can’t take in the mirror image your best friend. “Jin already told me about the fake pregnancy.” 

“Oh, in that case,” she smiles widely before giving her stomach one more big, satisfying slap, “see, you guys really are so close!” 

“I… I guess. I’m not sure if taking me out for one day after five years of radio silence really counts as close, though,” you then quickly add in with raised hands, “he only did so out of obligation, though! I swear it was nothing more!”

“Hmmm?” she hums, leaning in a curious ear with a cheshire-like smile. “Is it because of those promises he made?”

“...yeah, wait, he told you about those?” 

Of course he did, idiot, they’re engaged. 

“Well, something like that,” she shrugs, “so how much did he tell you?”

“About?” 

“About the wedding, silly!” 

“Uh, nothing much really. The pregnancy was a false rumor, the marriage was arranged by his father…”

“Father?” she inquires, watching you closely with those big, round eyeballs of hers. 

“Yes?” you hesitantly nod. “Father?” 

“Ah,” she nods, as if she finally catches drift of something, “I see.” 

“Oh yeah,” you add, “I also found out it’s on my birthday.”

“What?!” her eyes grow wider, if they even possibly can. “Jin never told me that! What the heck, man? A wedding? On his best friend’s birthday?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know right?” you nod passively before coming to an abrupt stop. “Wait, what? Why does it matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me! You’re Jin’s best friend, aren’t you? You have no idea how much he talks about you back home. I know you so well that sometimes I feel like you might be my best friend,” she chimes before reaching out to cup your hands in hers. “Let’s celebrate properly with Jin after the wedding, okay?” 

“Um, sure…”

But you don’t exactly plan on unnecessarily sticking around his life for any longer than the wedding… except, seeing how close she must be with Jin in addition to her loose-lip impression, you decide not to tell her that. 

“So,” she drops her hands to the side, “what did you need to tell me?” 

Why did you call her to meet you here again? After witnessing her flamboyant entrance, it’s hard for you to keep yourself from derailing. 

“Oh, um,” you scratch the back of your head awkwardly, “I just wanted to meet my best friend’s fiance, that’s all.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

The woman pauses, nodding at you intently almost as if waiting for the real intentions to be revealed. Damn it, either you’re a literal open book or she reincarnated from the same soul as Jin’s. 

“So…” you purse your lips. “Are you okay with it? The arranged marriage, I mean?” 

“Well,” she shrugs, finally dropping the smile from her lips. “At first I hated the thought of it. I felt like I didn’t really have a choice, but… when I met Jin—” a smile is hinted in the corner of her lips and in the sparkle of her eyes “—I thought ‘I’m pretty lucky girl, aren’t I?’ I think the world must have finally taken pity on me.”

A soft, stifled laugh slips from you as your eyes fall to the ground and a bittersweet smile accompanies your lips, “yeah, you’re pretty lucky.” 

“Don’t get me wrong though,” your eyes immediately shoot up to find her raising defensive hands, “it wasn’t some sort of a love at first sight. He’s handsome, sure, but—”

“—a marriage is a lifelong commitment—”

“—exactly,” she sighs, “I didn’t really know him, but when I was forced to spend time with him… I thought if I had to get married, then he would be the best option. He’s not a bad guy.” 

“No,” you smile in your reverie, shaking your head, “he's not a bad guy at all; and when you really get to know him, his stupid dorky self, I think it’s impossible not to fall for him.” 

“Yeah?” 

“He’s mean when he jokes around but he’s actually very kind, he’s sensitive when you poke him where it hurts but he hides it deceptively well, he’ll apologize for being wrong when the both of you clearly know you’re in the wrong, he’ll cook and wear the hottest pink clothes he can find because ‘to hell with societal norms,’ he’ll tell you the dumbest dad jokes but I promise you’ll get used to them eventually, ” you let out a reminiscent laugh that comes out more like a sigh, “and, sometimes, very rarely, he’ll hurt you unintentionally, of course, but he’ll always go out of his way to make it up because that’s just… that’s Jin. That’s my best friend.” 

A breeze passes by to perfectly mark the end of your cadence. Branches rustle above you and freshly budded cherry blossom petals flutter their way toward the grass underneath the two of you only to be risen once again by a following zephyr. Having been there throughout his and your lives, it’s almost as if the long-standing tree is agreeing to attest to your words. 

“Wow,” Youngji finally says after witnessing your truthful albeit embarrassing spoken love letter, “I… I wouldn’t doubt any of it… but why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you be telling Jin?” 

“I’m telling you, because,” you emphasize, “because I'm jealous of your position but I can't do anything about it so I want you to take good care of Jin. I just… I need to know he’ll be in good hands. I want him to be loved like the way that he loves. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Youngji just nods. It’s the most somber response you’ve ever seen from her. Almost like the joining of hands in marriage has finally become reality. 

“Do you…” you struggle to squeeze out of the knot in your throat, “do you love him…?” 

“Y/N—” she begins but suddenly lets go of whatever she must have had planned “—yes, yes I do.” 

“And… you’ll take care of him?” 

Youngji bobs her head lightly, “yes, I will.”

“Promise?” 

“...promise.”

“Okay, then I’m entrusting him to you, and,” you smile, leaning forward to shake her hands before heaving one last sigh, “and this time, please keep the promise.” 

❀ ❀ ❀

A curse sinks into the thickness of the sapphire dusk that quickly descends upon the hushed city. Keys tinkle to decorate the silence of tonight’s resting wind, a silence that would have been accompanied by an equally passive woman and an oblivious man whose hands persist to fumble to his guest’s dismay. 

Standing before a small willow, vintage-looking store tucked away in the corner of downtown, an inaudible breath ascends a cloud of white that momentarily shrouds the grand interior peeking from spotless windows that line the exterior. Golden warm studio lights illuminate the gorgeously exquisite ivory gowns from the trailing trains up to its waterfalls of dainty veils. Velvet suits and satin neckties accompany each headless mannequin, welcoming each passerby to imagine themselves in their wildest fairytales… your hand in his and his in yours as a fleeting moment becomes a sealed promise of a lifelong loyalty. 

Breath completely taken away, you, yourself, almost fall prey to your own far-fetched dreams. 

“I thought I said we shouldn’t meet up anymore,” your forced mutters drag you from your short-lived reveries, “why did you bring me here?”

“You said we shouldn’t meet up anymore, yet here you are,” Jin chirps before cheering to himself under his breath once the key finally clicks into place, “yes! Old man must have purposely given me these rusty old keys.”

Crossing your arms, you retort, “I came because you said your close friend from home would be here, too.”

Turning around to face you with his back to the door and a hand on the golden knob, he raises a quizzical brow, “and… are you not my close friend from home?” 

“I thought you meant the other—”

“—this is my home, Y/N,” he says firmly, looking straight at you, “and I want my best friend to see me in my wedding suit before anyone else.” 

“But why me…?”

“Because I only care about your opinion.”

He answered without hesitation, but in your head you figure he must have forgotten about Youngji, the true spotlight of the show.

Gritting your teeth, a staredown begins between the two of you; but the longer you face those unequivocal looks of determination in his eyes, the hotter your cheeks become in the middle of a contrastingly chilly night.  

“Alright, fine.” 

“Thanks,” he gives you a small, lopsided smile before pushing the door open with his back and ushering you in with a slight bow, “ladies first.”

Your eyes roll but not for very long when you step foot into the store and your mouth falls agape. The ceiling is much higher than you had perceived from outside, the sides are lined with grand, wooden staircases that lead to a second floor where hundreds upon hundreds of white dresses and black suits find purchase along the hangers, and the click of your heels against the marble tiles of the entrance floor echo into the extravagant expanse. 

The wooden insulation of the store proves infallible when the door closes behind Jin and the shrewd air leaves you to a much more bearable surrounding. Standing affixed to the entrance, you watch as Jin strides toward the carpeted floor where a taupe curtain hanging from the ceiling drapes over a raised platform sits across its partner platform in the opposite of the room. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so enraptured by something aside from me,” Jin chuckles as he begins stripping the suit off of a black, velvety mannequin before pointing at the mannequin standing beside the opposite platform, “oh, why don’t you try on some dresses while I’m at it?” 

“What?” you scoff, finally taking a step onto the carpet. “First off, I never stared at you like that before. Second, why the hell would I do that? It’s your wedding, not mine.” 

“I asked the store owner for permission and picked a dress for you to try on,” he continues, finally stopping in the midst of unbuttoning his white, collared shirt when he looks up to find the fear in your eyes. “Hey, haven’t you always wanted to try one of these?”

“Yeah,” you laugh in disbelief because he actually listened to your past rambles, “but never under these circumstances.”

“C’mon, you never know if you’ll ever have a chance like this again,” he gestures once more when he notices the start of your contemplation, “c’mon, go on!”

You really don’t want to. It’s that nagging feeling of something going completely wrong tonight if you were to succumb and let yourself go. After all, your worst fear is yourself. It doesn’t feel right and you begin to wonder if it’s alright for you to hold onto this moment you’ve always dreamed about: dolling up and swearing your vows side by side with Jin. 

If you were to live out your fairytale, just for tonight, would you finally be able to sleep dreamlessly at night? 

“...fine,” you groan and storm across the room, tossing your purse into the ruby sofas and stepping onto the platform. Turning around to face a gleeful Jin, you’re about to scowl at him until your eyes flicker between the cheeky grin on that youthful face and those sculpted abdomen of his elevated by the lighting above. Cheeks flushing red, you gulp at the unseen sight before clutching the curtain in your hands and swinging it closed with a mumble, “and at least have some decency and use the curtains, God damn it…”

The freezing touch of your hands doesn't hold a candle to the heat of your face. Trying to calm your racing heart, you curse to yourself at the way he merely cackles at you and, even worse, the way your heart intensifies in response. 

“Yes, ma’am!” 

“...shut up,” you say more to yourself and your deafening heart.

The gown standing before you, however, is no help to your case either, for when you glance over the dress, the long train that could awe an entire room, the complimenting silhouette that doesn’t scream too over-the-top but enough to fulfill the little girl within you, and the classic lace sleeves that you’ve gushed over whilst skimming through magazines, you realize Jin had always been attentive even when he was stuffing his face with bread or even when he was being petty over an argument and you tried to rectify with incessant small talk. 

It’s at this moment that you acknowledge the rabbit hole you had just willingly fallen into and the impossibility of its towering escape.

“So,” Jin calls out to you as the sound of rustling clothes fill the silent air, “what do you want for your birthday tomorrow?”

“My birthday? Oh, right,” you slam palm to your forehead, having dwelled over the marriage and consequently forgetting your own birthday. “Uh, nothing really. I haven’t really thought about it this year.” 

“Really? You? Y/N? Not planning her own birthday?” he gasps. “Who are you and what did you do to Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up. With age comes other problems to deal with...”

...problems like you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “You have to have something. You can’t tell me you’ve gotten every single thing checked off of that old ‘birthday gift ideas’ list you gave me.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t say I’m very far from it and it’s not like you were actually going to give me everything I asked for. Say, what did I even have on that list?” your eyes wander to the towering curtains that envelop you as your hands reach behind to the buttons on your back. “A bowl of your tofu soup, some pocket money, a matching sweater, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a… ring.” The word slips from your lips and it floats in the stagnant air before you can even do anything about it. His silence rings in your ears, so you quickly add in, “but I don’t want materialistic stuff like that anymore.” 

“...oh, really?” 

“Nope,” you heave a heavy sigh and pat the poofy material of the skirt down, “I think I’ve come to realize that… I just want to be loved. I don’t need a dress or a necklace or a ring…  you wouldn’t understand, but I don’t just want to hear those words. I want to feel them. I want to be loved.” 

But only by him.

A lingering silence drifts long enough for you to start panicking until, finally, he answers, “no, I understand.” 

“...well,” you quickly chirp as you fumble with the lacey material of your dress, “enough about me, what do you want for your big day, hm?”

“Why would I need a present from you?” he remarks. You can hear him finishing his final touches and you can barely stop your heart from leaping out of your chest. “You’ve given me enough already.”

“You mean I’ve given you enough earfuls and tears,” you retort, clutching onto the curtains as you shut your eyes to muster every courage within you. “Isn’t there anything I can give you? Anything you want?”

Counting down to yourself, the curtains and drawn open in one, swift swing; and when your eyelids flutter open, you find him standing on the platform across from you, dressed in a classic black and white suit with the curtains clutched in his hands like a mirror image of you. He glances over you from head to toe, as you do to him, until the both of you settle in each other’s gazes for what seems like an eternity, willingly lost and ever-so-enraptured.

You almost forget this isn’t actually your wedding.

“This,” he answers with a soft smile, “this is enough.”  

“...stop it.”

JIn frowns, “stop what?”

“Stop… looking at me like that,” you articulate, hands covering your bashful grin. “It’s making me feel self-conscious.” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault I have such a good eye at picking clothes for you!” he says whilst pointing an accusatory finger. “I guess 22 year old Jin had a pretty good sense of fashion after all.” 

“You picked this five years ago…?” 

The man shrugs but his high chin says otherwise regarding his humility, “I told you Kim Seokjin is a prepared man of his word.” Eyes peering across to wink at you, he continues a bit more seriously, “I might not be able to fulfill all of our promises, but this is the closest I can to it.” 

“Jin… you’re…” you laugh in disbelief, bashfully avoiding his intent gaze, “...you’re so incredibly stupid that I can feel it from all the way here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he grins mischievously and takes a step toward you and off the platform. “How about now?”

“Stop it, don’t spread your stupidity to me.”

He spreads his arms out wide whilst taking another few steps forward, “why not? Aren’t we supposed to be together through thick and thin?”

“No, not really,” you adamantly shake your head amidst a hysterical fit of giggles, “don’t come any closer.” 

“Oh, no,” he feigns worry. Another footstep. “I can’t stop myself.” He approaches even closer. “The stupidity is spreading!” 

With him just a footstep away, you cower behind the shield of your hands, “stop it, stop looking at me like that—”

—and just as you squeal, his arms wrap around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

Like two lost puzzle pieces, his hands fit perfectly in the small of your back and his chin rests comfortably in the crook of your neck. His hair grazes against your burning cheeks. His scent envelops you into a rosy haze. He could probably feel the beat of your chest against his, but you wouldn’t know when you’re preoccupied by the thuds of his own. You had never been aware of the lonesome emptiness you’ve felt all these years until now, under the warmth of his touch that completes your other half. 

You almost forget to breathe until he takes a deep breath and lets out a slow, dreary sigh. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Under any other circumstances, you would have smacked him for lying. Perhaps it’s the stir of the starry skies or the impending occasion or even the look he made on his way to you with a gaze that oozed with absolute adoration, but something tells you he’s being his genuine self tonight… and that’s what you fear the most. 

“You shouldn’t be saying that, Jin,” you say, stroking his head buried in your shoulder, “and you shouldn’t be looking at any women but Youngji with those eyes.” 

Whether he’s quietly reflecting or stubbornly disagreeing, Jin remains silent. His breath entangles with yours, syncing with the wavelengths that you two have been running for an ongoing seven years and, perhaps, beyond. 

He frustrates you to your wits’ end. There’s nothing he hasn’t made you question. At times, when you’re tossing and turning in bed and hoping for a way out of that cavern of a mind, you wish time could skip to a year in which the voices no longer haunt you at night; and yet, when you’re here buried in his arms, you would do anything to freeze and relish this fragment in time. 

It isn’t right. You two aren’t right and you know it isn’t right… but how do you deny yourself of the cure to those deep scars when he, himself, wishes to be downed? 

It takes everything in you to finally drop your hands from his locks to his shoulder. Just as you’re about to deny the tempting elixir, Jin lifts his head along with his gaze that now meets yours, “Y/N, I have something I need to tell you.”

“...y-yeah?” 

The windows to his soul twinkle underneath the dim chandeliers above. Those starry dark brown eyes simply take your breath away.

“My dad,” his voice quivers like the water that wells in his eyes; and when you know he’s about to bawl, you pat his head ever-so-endearingly. Gulping, he finds the courage to continue, “he’s sick.” 

“Oh... oh, Jin,” you murmur, quickly wiping the few tears that drop onto his flush cheeks before bringing him into another tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” 

“I only moved—” and that’s what cracks his buoyant front into a full on bawl  “—I only moved to take care of him!”

“I understand.” 

He shakes his head, “I didn’t want to abandon you!” 

“No, Jin, I know,” your voice is buried underneath his whimpers, “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t know things would turn out like this!” he cries, holding you even closer. “I didn’t know!” 

“It’s okay, Jin. Really, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

“No, it won’t be okay,” his voice hitches in the midst of his hiccups, “my father is dying and now I’m walking down the aisle with a woman I don’t even love!” 

Your strokes come to a temporary stop because how could fate be so twisted? Who is it to decide whose time shall begin and whose time is up? You have to hold your breath along with the waterworks that sour your eyes. You can’t cry now. He needs your stability.

He needs you. 

“Did you…” you take a shaky breath, leaning back to watch him cover the messy state of his face, “did you tell your dad?”

“I-I couldn’t,” he stutters, voice muffled by his voice, “you know how long he’s been waiting for this.”

I know,” you ponder for a second before hesitating to continue, “...why didn’t you consider me?” 

“I—” his hiccup interrupts him as he roughly smears his tear-stained cheeks with his palms “—I thought you hated me. I didn’t think you would agree. I thought our promises were just a joke. But when you confessed that night, when you said you would fight for us—” his voice cracks again as he laughs at himself, eyes to the ground “—I thought damn, fuck, how did I mess up so hard? I should have fought for us. I’m so stupid—”

“—no you’re not—”

“—so fucking stupid!” 

His self-reprimanding curse echoes in the room. Each of his demeaning scorns inciting a fiery justice in you. 

“No,” you state, “you’re not stupid.” 

Without the dignity to face you, his hands clenched into fist and he continues with bangs shrouding his sorrowful eyes, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you—”

“—no, Jin, you did not—”

“—I messed us up—”

“—no, Jin, look at me, hey, look at me,” you place a finger under his chin to lift his spirits until those bloodshot eyes of his find refuge in yours. Smiling, you speak, “see? I’m okay. So what are you apologizing for?”  

“Aren’t you… mad?” 

“Mad? No, silly,” you laugh, wiping another tear. “Sad? Maybe.”

“See—”

“—sad because I wasn’t there by your side when you needed me… and maybe a bit sad that I won’t be the one holding you like this tomorrow,” you apologize with a soft smile over the latter jab that incites a wince from the boy. “Why didn’t you tell me about your father?” 

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” he hiccups, “and when I found out, I tried to call you but it didn’t go through.”

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he takes a deep breath to calm his high, “it’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either,” you affirm, breaking out into a laugh when you take another look at his reddened eyes and dampened cheeks. “Look at you! Why are you looking like a mess on our wedding day, huh?! At least let us be ignorantly happy for one day!” 

“What…?” he frowns whilst hastily smearing every last evidence of his breakdown on his face. The result is an equally red, irritated skin across his cheeks. “What’re you talking about? Kim Seokjin never looks like a mess… hey, what’re you laughing at?!” 

“Look at your tie, idiot! What kind of a rich son are you if you can’t even tie it correctly? Come over here,” you say just as you grab the end of his necktie to pull him up onto the platform. With his necktie now at your eye-level, you begin to unravel whatever knot he had attempted. All the while, you can feel his gaze as he watches you do your thing, completely enamored. This time, it’s your turn to turn red. To distract yourself from the rising self-consciousness, you clear your throat, “call me whenever you’re going through a hard time, okay? I’ll give you my new number…”

The piece of fabric flails around into equally atrocious knots that Jin had previously created until you groan in frustration and disassemble everything. You had practiced this so many times while he was gone, foolishly believing it would come in handy the day he returned, but why does nothing ever work out the way you want it to? 

“I swear it worked last time I tried…”

Your best friend just watches silently, chuckling as you wrap the fabric around your own neck this time; and when he speaks, much steadier like the Jin you have always known, he looks you directly in the eye. “Youngji told me about your guys’ conversation.”

“Huh?” you pause as soon as your embarrassing declaration of love begins reciting itself in your head, but not even the resumed work of your hands could distract you from the ever-growing shade of red. “O-oh, that… what about it?” 

“I heard what you said about me.” 

“Yeah?” you hum nonchalantly, even though the trembling of your hands and the avoidance of your eyes from his give you away. “Well, did she tell you about all the complaints I made, too? About you being a stupid dork?”

“She did,” he utters before placing a finger below your chin to avert your attention to those dazzling works you desperately avoided, “but would you still be willing to marry this stupid dork?”  

“This isn’t even a real wedding,” you feign a frown under the spotlight of his intent gaze, “why are you asking me a question like that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have the funds to hire a real priest.” 

“You don’t need to for a fake wedding.”

“I thought you said we should be ‘ignorantly happy for one day?’” 

The bantering just never stops, does it?

“Okay, well… to answer your question,” you mutter, eyes averting to the side, “under normal circumstances…”

“Under normal circumstances…” he repeats.

“Where you aren’t engaged…”

“Where I’m not engaged…”

“And your father approved of me…”

“And my father approved of you…”

“Then yes,” you say without hesitation, eyes returning to find a newfound comfort in his relieved gaze, “yes, I would marry you.” 

“And that’s why I love you,” Jin smiles, chuckling softly. “I’ll always want to marry you.”  

And just as a nearby clock tower strikes its church bells to signal the stroke of midnight, Jin grabs the end of your necktie and pulls you in to press his lips onto yours. The body of his warmth and the acceptance of an inevitable end to your paths serve as the last page of a book never to be read again; and yet, he holds himself close, refusing to let you go. 

But when the end nears and the magic of the bells resume time once again, the two of you pull away to catch your breaths. Forehead against yours, Jin gives you one last, fleeting kiss. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Deja vu would be the perfect term to describe this feeling.  You can almost see yourself in the room of hundreds, stealing glances at the man from afar. It only takes one blink for you to relive the rollercoaster of jubilance and confessions and tears. In the split second of darkness, the past week flickers before you like a film reel: breaking down in the middle of the hallway right in front of Jin, staring bewilderedly at the large bouquet in the hand of a man at the office, confessing with tears that stain your face and sobs that conquer your voice, meeting the woman who had stolen your spot beside Jin, and holding him in your arms as he cries his heart out at the stroke of midnight. 

And just as quickly as the whirlwind of memories had taken you on a trek of time, your eyes flutter open to find yourself in another suffocating room of hundreds once again. 

Youngji [8:39 P.M.] Hey Y/N do you think you can visit me real quick? 

The glaring text on your phone screen glows in an otherwise dimly lit reception room. Thumb hovering over the screen, your mind goes blank. People pass by you, commotions and laughter fill every corner of the room, and you stand there frozen and affixed to the floor beside the table of food with a glass of red wine in your hands. 

“Hey, Y/N,” someone whispers into your ear and you immediately turn your phone off only to find Alex on her tiptoes, “what’s the matter?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” you respond under your breath, “it’s just that someone wants to talk to me.” 

“Well, you better hurry then,” she ushers you with a gripping hand on your left arm, “the ceremony is about to start anytime now.” 

“O-oh, okay,” you nod, allowing your footsteps to follow the momentum of her push. 

This isn’t exactly what you had planned, for the original plan involved your complete avoidance of the groom and bride, but it’s unsurprising that things never quite go your way. Nothing could quite topple you like last night’s revelation anyways. Taking a deep breath, you weave through the audience, wandering about the venue until you finally find yourself in front of a door with a “BRIDE WAITING ROOM” printed in gigantic black letters taped to it. 

Hesitantly, you knock, “hello? This is Y/N…? Youngji called for me—”

“—Y/N!” The wooden door swings wide open with a highly distressed Youngji hiding behind it. Before you can reply or even confirm the identity of the woman, her hands clutch yours and pull you into the room with a force unimaginable for a human of her size.  Practically lurching forward, a heap of air is knocked from your lungs just as the door slams closed. Coughs force their way through your throat, but Youngji wastes no time to rush to your side. “Y/N, this is an emergency! I need help!” 

“W—” you wheeze, peering up at her as you’re doubled over “—what in the world are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know,” her hands jitter as she paces back and forth, “I don’t know why I feel so… so nervous!”

“Hold on,” you frown, finally straightening your back, “that’s perfectly normal. It’s your wedding—”

“—please don’t say that word again,” she begins biting her freshly white-coated nails.

“What word? Normal? Wedding? Your—”

“—I can’t believe it’s my wedding…” she says repeatedly, hands flying to her head and disheveling her previously perfectly conditioned curls. She suddenly turns to face you, eyes wider than ever with a look that screams of an epiphany. “I-I don’t think I can go there. Y/N, I don’t think I can go out there!”

“What?!” you almost yell, flabbergasted. Recoiling from your outburst, you start much more softly this time. “Are you sure? I’m sure it’s just your nerves getting to you. You’ve been okay with it for at least a year, right?”

“Why?” her eyes widen to unprecedented diameters as she grabs your arm for support. “Is it because it’s too late? Do you think I should back out, Y/N?”

“What? No, no, no, calm down, follow me,” you shake your head, grasping her hand and guiding her to the chair in the center of the room where an entire photo shoot has been set up. Lowering yourself to a squat, you give her a squeeze as firm as the smile on your lips.  “Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s just the jitters. Everyone gets them. I’m sure Jin is freaking out in his room, too.”

“...okay,” she nods, pouting as her eyes lower to your hands that hold hers. Peering up at her from below, you can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks dolled up on this special occasion. From the extravagant poof of her princess gown to the gorgeous glow of the bride herself, you find yourself lost in a trance that burns with heart-panging jealousy. You almost miss her when she murmurs, “how are you so calm, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you raise a brow and laugh. “Why would I be nervous? I’m not the one getting married here.”  

“But… your best friend is getting married,” she shifts to get a clearer look of you but finds you with your eyes to the floor, “are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Of… of course. I’m happy for him,” you say through barely parted lips and stand to your feet before making your way to the door. “It’s not exactly traditional, but do you want me to get Jin? Maybe he can calm you down—”

“—do you know why Jin agreed to this arrangement?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you throw a glance over your shoulder to meet her distraught gaze. 

“Why are you asking me that now?”

“Because,” she blurts, clearly without thinking as words fail to follow through, “because I want your blessing! I want you to be okay with it!” 

“Blessing...?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “I can live with marrying a man I don’t love because I know I’ll come around, but I don’t think I can live knowing I’ve broken your relationship with Jin.”

Your weight shifts from your left to your right but the force of burden weighs immeasurably heavier on your very being. There’s nothing that would have prepared you for her request. Preparation, however, proves unnecessary, for your mind runs on its own and the words come to you as if rehearsal is all it's ever done. 

“I don’t think I’m in the position to grant you permission. That’s your decision and Jin’s,” you say, “and if my blessing is what you’re asking for, then I can give you it as many times as it takes to convince you. But if you’re asking for me to be okay with it, then I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you that.” 

Those are your last parting words as you slump on the wall behind you and a heavy sigh is shared between the two women on opposite sides of the door. Head low like a woman unjustly ashamed for speaking her truth, you take a deep breath with those heavy shoulders that carry the weight of a woman who had essentially cursed the joining of two hands. Nevertheless, somehow, you persist to make your way through the halls just as the ceremony begins; but as the audience settles and the light dims, something tells you the guilt that intoxicates your blood would have a longer-lasting aftermath than you had first expected. 

“Hey,” Alex leans into you, whispering, “is it just me or does Jin seem really jittery?”

“...no,” you answer, making sure to keep yourself hushed amidst a room of seated spectators. From the second bench to the front, fortunately on the opposite side of where Jin’s parents sit in the front row, you get a clear view of Jin and Youngji in between the black silhouettes of a couple heads; but anyone in the room can tell the bright studio lights and elevated platform don’t help his constantly shuffling case. “I don’t think it’s just you.”

“I see… so both the groom and bride are getting cold feet, huh?” 

“Well,” you utter, quipping, “in Jin’s case, he’d probably just say he forgot to sleep with socks on.” 

Alex turns to you with sheer confusion across her furrowed brows, “huh?” 

But before Alex could inquire further, the priest clears his throat and begins the opening ceremony. The officiality of it all, a long-dreaded image of Jin standing by another woman’s side manifesting into reality, has you subconsciously sent into a frenzy. 

“Dear Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kim Seokjin and Heo Youngji in matrimony commended to be honorable among all…”

The clearing of his throat strikes once and hard against your chest. Each word that reverberates in the room echoes the vibrating pain in the blood pumped from a gaping wound. Your chest heaves and heaves and your lungs struggle to maintain composure, and while your breakdown may have gone unseen by the rest of the universe, you know for sure only two would catch sight of your state.

You and him. 

“...if there is any person who can show cause why they should not be joined together…”

The priest continues and the tension in the audience rises by the second of a stress-inducing prompt, but the moment Jin catches your eyes and the panic painted across it, his every attention remains on you. Guilt should’ve painted your expression now, having stolen the groom’s admiration from the rightful bride by his side, but all you can do is relish in a fleeting moment you deem the least this cruel world owed you. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because something catches in your throat like the hunch that has chills running down the nape of your neck. You don’t dare move an inch. You fear any movement would give you away, though you’re sure he already knew the second he met you halfway.

His eyes, those dazzling eyes that could single-handedly freeze any moment in time, they ask you for a permission only he could grant. 

“...let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” 

No one speaks but the thick air that engulfs every witness in the room is telling enough. Holding a shared, bated breath, everyone awaits and prays for the quick passing of this deafening silence. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry your passing out would be the one interruption to the ceremony, if not anything else. It takes everything in you to remain hidden, glued to the chair. You can hear every single movement in this room, the squeaking of a nearly retired bench, the rustling of clothes amidst a fidgeting audience, the anxious tapping of someone’s heels against the wooden floor, yet no one dares to speak now. 

The priest sighs a soft breath of relief. 

Everyone but you follows along. 

The priest clears his throat and pro—

“—I would like to speak.”

A loud gasp travels across the room. Every witness, including the priest himself, stares at the young man, wide-eyed. The knot in your throat inhibits you from following suit, but the hammer against your chest works harder than ever; because there he is, your best friend, standing boldly before the audience with a puffed chest and a tightened fist that brace for the repercussions. 

It all happens so suddenly, so swiftly. The strings that were left raveled now unraveled, the paths that were abandoned now explored, and the love of a lifetime whomst once bid you farewell now holds on with a determination that tells you they aren’t quite ready to let go, by happenstance or by conviction, everything falls into place. 

You had reprimanded yourself relentlessly for envisioning a moment like this and you truly believed this would be the worst case scenario, so why is it that only now, as your peering eyes are enamored by the sparkles in his, you find yourself smiling proudly and thinking to yourself… that’s your man. 

“Father, mother,” Jin turns to face his parents in the front row, declaring loudly and firmly, “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.” 

“What,” Alex shrills under her breath as she clutches your hands, “what is going on, Y/N?!”

Her voice doesn’t reach you and neither do her cold, nudging hands. The ongoing commotion around the room are like white noise in your background. You can’t even spare a second of your attention to the picturesque vision before you, the man who fights not for you but for the two of you.

Jin bows, head hanging low to his parents and the audience, “I’m sorry for saying this too late.” 

Everybody watches as his mother attempts to hold her husband in place. All is in vein, however, when one look of the baffled expression on her husband’s face conveys enough to everyone of the mayhem that is soon to ensue. He rips her grip apart from his arm and storms to his feet, pointing a finger at his apologetic son.

“W—” he struggles to find his breath “—what are you saying? You said you were okay with this just last week!”

“I did,” Jin affirms with his head still hanging low, “I thought I was okay with it until this week.” 

“How—”

“—honey…” the mother murmurs.

“No, changing your mind is one thing, but changing it at the very last second is another,” his father shakes his head, yanking his hand and stumbling on his feet before his distraught son could lend a helping hand. “Did I teach you to inconvenience others like this? Do you know how much trouble you’re causing Youngji and her family?”

“I do,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

His father grunts, “don’t you see, Seokjin? ‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything—”

“—actually, Mr. Kim, it’s not just Jin,” Youngji bounces to Jin’s side then pivots to bow to her parents who sit in the row before you, “I, too, don’t want to marry anyone until I really know them.” 

Physically, the spotlight remains affixed to the stage. Mentally, it feels as though everyone’s attention is gradually creeping its way toward you. It takes everything in you and the grip of Alex’s hands not to run from the prying eyes. 

“What?” their parents gasp. “Didn’t you say you were okay with it if it were Jin?”

“I did!” she insists, suddenly retracting. “I did, until…”

“I’m sorry,” Jin lifts his head to turn to Youngji’s parents before bowing once again, “this is all my fault.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t do this... tell me, son,” his father takes a step toward the stage, beckoning for an explanation, “tell me who did this to you?” 

Jin lifts his head, brow furrowing and lips thinning as he chooses to remain silent to his father’s question. Suddenly, it’s everyone’s duty to catch the perpetrator. The audience begins craning their neck every which way to skim over the possible candidates. Your heart sends threatening waves of pain that foreshadow the inevitable chaos you’re about to be dragged into. 

You can barely move from staring at the floor in between the groom and bride but you can spot the gradual direction of his mother’s eyes making its way toward you… and when they finally spot you, a lightbulb flashing across her eyes the second you make the lethal mistake of meeting her gaze for the first time in many years, it’s as though her son’s rebellion is the only thing that makes sense in this universe. 

Only naturally, his father catches onto his partner’s maternal instincts along with the rest of the crowd as their diverged attention converges, one head turning after another, to stare you down—some with awe plastered across their jealous front, some with ghastly colors than drain their face of blood. 

“Is that… you, Y/N?” his father’s voice echoes in the room. “Seokjin, don’t tell me…”

“No, father!” Jin jumps in, holding up a defensive pair of hands as he attempts to quell the fiery in his father’s temper. Wide-eyed and panicked, he glances between you and his father. “It isn’t her fault. I swear. I”ll explain—”

“—don’t tell me you’re going through all this trouble for a childish crush from five years ago?” 

A loud shriek began the chaos the second Jin’s father exploded, lurching forward with a vexing fist. Everyone in the front rows jump to their feet to hold him back, whereas people in the back rows stand to their tiptoes to get a better view of the climactic show, which includes a once-to-be-groom insisting his father punishes him and a once-to-be-bride slapping her ex-partner in the head for his submission. 

People are hysterically laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, fighting, but you sit there, frozen and petrified, until a hand shakes your entire being to your feet. 

“Y/N, Y/N, God damn it Y/N, earth to Y/N!” Alex raises her hand, just about to give you one hard slap to the cheek when you suddenly flinch awake. She then hastily pushes you toward the door in the corner of the room whilst everyone is too distracted to notice your discreet escape. She looks you directly in the eye, “you need to run before things get too crazy. I’ll handle things here for now.” 

“But Alex, I’m at fault here—”

“—yes, I mean, maybe,” she corrects herself with the shake of her head, “but you being here doesn’t help matters. I’ll help Jin and Youngji.”

“But—”

“—now go,” she starts your momentum with an encouraging push, “go!”

Nodding, you begin your long trek of the night. You run and you run and you run. Your mind runs blank but your feet run a mind of its own. You sprint down the dimly lit streets, you pay no mind to the traffic lights of endlessly empty streets, and your hair twirls in the wind that impedes your speed down the hills. Your surroundings become a blur as your arms swing desperately, your chest heaves incessantly, your eyes sting with tears, and your lips spill anguished sounds of incoherency until somehow, under the sway of the town’s cold spring air and your flux of emotions, you find yourself in a familiar street of your greatest dreams. 

Depleted of gas, your feet stumble into a trot that has your knee nearly buckling, which then turns into a jog that then drifts into an untroubled walk in which your lungs try to catch up and your mind is scrambling at a hundred miles per hour but you, yourself, have gone elsewhere. 

The luminescence of the full moon is blinding but all the more soothing as you navigate your way through this street you’ve walked one too many times before. For some reason, perhaps out of habit or a hope for something waiting at the end of the tunnel, you begin to count each passing light post. Seven fluorescent lights, you count, seven lights resembling the rays of moonlight until you finally reach your old acquaintance of many years at the corner of the street. 

Leaning your head back to stare at the familiar white text on a green sign post, you smile at the homely sight. 

CHERRY BLOSSOM AVE

A comforting breeze blows by you, the branches above you rustle in the wind, and the cherry petals from your old pal flutter into the air to envelop you in a solace you had long sought but failed to obtain. It’s like the calm after a storm. Not quite disconnected from the string that loops around your fourth finger to those of another man’s—no, you couldn’t unravel it after all this heartache—but at least away from the prying eyes that could tear you apart and away from the people who whispered gossip of matters they had none in. 

Hours seem to pass in the clouds that retire to reveal patches of new twinkling ornaments. You would have believed it if someone were to tell you all control of time lies within the blink of your eyes. The silence was calming initially; but the longer you stand here and the more the numbness begins to fade, the more you become aware of your lonesome circumstances. 

The silence is deafening. It knows your greatest fears and your innermost thoughts. You can’t handle it. You can’t bear the thought of being left alone to that voice in your head. 

You have to go. 

Where? 

You don’t know. You just know you have to go somewhere. You can envision all the places you can run to but all the roads lead you to one destination. Yes, anywhere would be fine, anywhere that leads you to him. 

“This marks the second time you’ve ever been so enraptured by something other than me.” 

Whirling around, seconds seem to become milliseconds and gravity becomes a law unbeknownst to earth, for you can’t believe the sight your eyes lay upon. There he is, standing by the tree just a few meters away with a loosened necktie and disheveled hair, almost as if a pitiful albeit wondrous mirage crafted by your shoddy prayers to the moon above. 

“Hey dummy,” he simply utters, taking a step or two toward you before poking your forehead, “what? Why’re you staring at me like I’m a ghost?” 

“What?” you manage to say under your breath. “I’m not staring…”

“I was just joking, you know?” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be jealous over a street post. Psh, I’m not that dumb—”

“—why…” you frown when he quirks a brow, “why are you here? How are you here?”

“Oh no, she’s gone crazy,” Jin laughs at the stupefied look you give him. “At least an hour or two has passed since you left. Somehow, I managed to sit my father down and explain myself.” 

“And… what did he say?” your hands begin fidgeting. “He must hate me, doesn’t he…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ per se… he’s perfectly okay with you. In fact, he likes you, really. He’s just mad at how things happened. After he calmed down, though, he understood where I was coming from.” 

Cautiously, you peek at those eyes that peer down at yours, “and your mother…?”

“She said she saw it coming from a mile away. Apparently she saw us arguing at the engagement party and knew right away,” Jin purses his lips. “Psh, yeah, as if I’m that easy to read.” 

Allowing yourself the smallest of laughs, you still can’t seem to rid yourself of that panging guilt. “And… what about Youngji?” 

Jin stares intently at your expression before cracking a smile and chuckling, ruffling your hair, “don’t go crying on me now, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

“But I just,” your voice cracks, “I just hate myself for ruining everything for everyone—”

“—hey,” he cups his fingers underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his, “you did not ruin anything for anyone. I did this. I chose to fight for us.” 

Hesitantly, you nod and he smiles in response. 

“Youngji’s still explaining to her family right now. She told me to find you and Alex told me you would probably here.” 

Frowning, you mutter to yourself, “how did she know…?” 

“Well,” Jin drops his hand from your chin to raise them in the air, “we did promise to swear our wedding vows here, didn’t we?” 

“So what?” you deadpan. “You’re gonna marry me now after all this mess?” 

“I know you really want to marry me as soon as possible, but I think I’m gonna have to take a break from weddings for now.” 

Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “ditto.”

“But hey, I may have already broken the third promise,” one corner of his lips curve into an apologetic smile before he shrugs, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry you in the future! Plus, I may or may not have promised my father I would marry you in the near future to make up for it, so...” 

Scoffing, you gawk, “and who said I would marry you?” 

“Who wouldn’t marry me?!” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, but the mirrored grin that stretches across your lips are undeniable. Soon enough, a loud fit of giggles and cackles fill the air. It happens all too quickly. The banters come to you like second nature, the conversation flows like a river through time, and somehow you find yourself lying beside him on the blazer he had laid out on the grassy hill and star-gazing for hours on end. 

It’s almost like you’ve seen this all before, just five years aged. 

“So,” Jin speaks, “how’s your birthday been?” 

“Oh, shut the hell up.” 

“What?” he cackles, getting up to lean on his arm whilst hovering you. “You know it’s not too late to tell me what you want for your birthday!” 

“I already told you,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn’t joking when I said what I said.” 

Jin smiles, “in that case…”

He leans in to diminish the distance between his lips and yours. A lulling zephyr blows gently on the cherry petals as you close your eyes and you can picture the way they gracefully descend upon the two lovers below. Having witnessed the unforeseeable promises from start to finish, it’s almost as though an old accomplice was applauding a long-awaited finale. 

And when he finally pulls away, eyelids fluttering open just as yours do, he speaks, “happy birthday.” 

“What was that for?” you giggle. 

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “I’m giving you what you wanted for your birthday!”

“Well,” you purse your lips, “where’s my ring to confirm it then?”

“After all this time, do you really need a ring at this point to confirm my love for you?” Jin rolls his eyes. “You know I’ll always want to be by your side, married or not.” 

A fit of laughs escape you as your hand reaches up to squeeze his cheeks, “I know, I know. I’m just joking.”

“Well, good, cause I’m bankrupt at the moment,” Jin sighs, plopping back onto the grass beside you. A momentary silence passes before he turns his head to look at you, “just to make sure, you said you wanted love, right?” 

Turning to meet those sparkles in his gaze, you answer, “yeah?”

“You said you wanted to feel love, right?” 

Your grin grows wider by the second, “yeah?” 

“Well,” he says, “do you feel it?” 

“I do,” you answer. “What about you? Do you feel it?”

The vows hold a truth much closer to his heart this time around, and he smiles as he swears...

“I do, too.” 

[ghostdrew22]

Falling Out Of Love With Astoria Greengrass || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader (but it's not mentioned frequently so you can ignore it) Warnings: Allusions to sex, some angst, mentions of death, if there's anything else please let me know :) Summary: Throughout the Hogwarts years from Astoria’s POV we watch Draco fall out of love with her, and into love with Y/N.

WORDS : 6251

<~>

The Greengrass and Malfoy families had held each other in a high regard for quite sometime. When it so happened that the Malfoy’s had a son near in age to the Greengrass daughters, it was almost too perfect an opportunity to pass up and both families decided that to keep their families pure, wealthy and powerful, one of the Greengrass daughters would marry Draco when they all came of age.

So soon playdates were being arranged and the Greengrass daughters had become best friends with the Malfoy son. For a while, it looked like Astoria was the sister that he was going to marry,  like she’d stolen the Slytherin Prince’s heart. They both liked each other enough, it was a perfect union really.

But then you happened.

It was all going well, perfect even, until Year 1 at Hogwarts began and you snuck your way into everyone’s lives. Draco, Blaise, Daphne and Astoria had grown up together, you were the outsider. It shouldn’t have happened really, it was most unbelievable to Draco himself, but on the first day of school he bumped into you before the sorting ceremony and you flashed him a smile that had his insides bubbling with warmth- not love, definitely not, but an odd sense of comfort. Before long you, Draco, Blaise and Daphne all got sorted into Slytherin and the oddest of crews was formed; three wealthy purebloods and their half-blood best friend - but you were powerful quartet and you only grew in power when Astoria joined Hogwarts the next year.

~~~

She should’ve known, from the day that she met you, that she’d  never be enough in comparison to you- not for her sister, not for her  friends, and definitely not for Draco Malfoy. How could she be  when your laugh made everyone else laugh too, when your smile brightened  up everyone’s day even her own, when your hugs were a refuge from the   terrible reality that consumed the Hogwarts grounds every year, when you  were the only true friend that most people ever had in their lives.

In  another world, Astoria would’ve been the one that Draco fell in love   with, not you. In another world, a perfect world perhaps, your dorky   snort wouldn’t have even made it into any of their lives. Your touch   wouldn’t linger on their souls like a wolf’s imprint and your voice   wouldn’t snake its way into their most euphoric dreams. And perhaps in   another reality, one in which the universe didn’t hate Astoria, you   didn’t exist at all.

But in this reality, you are real, very real indeed.

She isn’t in love with him. No. She can’t be.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Draco’s arranged to marry her not you.  He’s meant to marry the beautiful, wealthy, pureblood with as much   social status as his own, not the half-blood from Hogwarts whose father had to work for his social status. Everyone knows Mr L/N, it’s hard not  to know the trailblazing wizard who succeeded against all odds then lost  his wife to a muggle disease, but that doesn’t mean everyone respects  him in the same manner that they do Lucius Malfoy.

It’s absurd, you’re too different. You’re too different from the rest of them, it doesn’t make sense that he fell in love with you.

~~~

YEAR THREE  - DECEMBER

The Malfoy’s had a small, annual Christmas tradition. If your idea of a small tradition is a ball with the Wizarding World’s richest and most popular adversary’s. You’d never gone before, due to your mother being a muggle and unenthusiastic about fraternising with pretentious, former death eaters, but once your friendship had reached stable enough ground Draco had insisted that you and your father come for the ball. And reluctantly, your father agreed.

You’d not come with a date. What was the point if you were going to spend the entire night with your friends anyway? It was unorthodox, and deemed slightly rude by Lucius Malfoy, but no one had cared much after you’d managed to discreetly blend in with your friends and Daphne hadn’t left your side the entire night.

It’s that night when Astoria starts to notice that she’s losing him to you. She’s clearly looking richer- everything about her always screams money- but it seems that it’s not enough to compare to your smile, your eyes, the way your laugh fills the room whenever one of your friends tells a joke, because almost the entire group can’t keep their eyes off of you, including Astoria herself, even though hers is an act of insecurity and not admiration.

So she tries to lure Draco away from you before he can get sucked too deeply into your sparkling iris’s, coaxing him to join her on the dance floor and he obliges without complaint- knowing that his father is keeping a watchful eye on his son and his future wife.  And besides, Draco does love Astoria, he wants to make sure that she has a good time. When Astoria looks back at this night she’ll imagine that it was the night that Draco had stopped loving her and started loving you instead, but she was wrong. He had loved you both for long after.

His hands are tight around her waist, in a loving and protective manner, as he leads her onto the dance floor swiftly and treats her to a night of bliss that she’ll never forget. His heart is in it, undeniably, but it seems that only half of his heart belongs to Astoria. Because the whole night, while he dances with her, laughs with her, eats with her, and has the time of his life with her, he guiltily wishes that it had been with you.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - NOVEMBER

Astoria walks toward Draco’s prefect dorm - wanting to find him and drag him down to the Quidditch field so that he can fly around with her for a little bit- and stops at his door when she hears the faint sound of laughter barricading against the walls from the inside. It’s your laugh, she knows it well enough by now, and his chuckles follow soon after.

She suspects that this is a private moment, one meant only for the two of you to witness and experience, and she doesn’t know how but something about the way you’re laughing just sends jolts of envy shooting through her- like Draco’s never made her laugh that way, and maybe it’s because he never has. There’s an odd sort of intimacy that wafts through the air, even with all these walls and doors keeping her separated from you both, and it unsettles her down to her core because it feels so different to the way Draco is with her.

“We have to tell them… We have to tell her.” You sigh as you look into Draco’s eyes sadly. Astoria can’t see the scene but she can sense the discomfort that’s now enveloped the room at the mention of whoever you two seem to be discussing.

“Y/N.” Draco sighs tiredly - having had this argument with you countless times in the last two months.

“I know, I know that you’re arranged to marry her and you love her and she loves you but Draco the two of you aren’t even dating. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to either of us- she at least deserves to know.”

Realisation dawns on Astoria as she processes that she’s the one that they’re talking about - that in some odd twist of fate she’s become the other woman.

“What if she hates me?” Draco asks and Astoria feels her heart wrench- there’s no possibility in this universe that she could ever hate him, even if she tried.

“She could never hate you.”

“What if she tells my parents?”


“Tell them that nothing’s changed and you will still go ahead with the marriage when the time comes. Tell them all the things that you’ve already told me.” There’s a slight hint of sadness and betrayal lacing your last few words and Draco feels sorrow wash over him.

“Y/N-“

“No, don’t say it.” You shake your head with a sad smile. “You’re going back to her in the end, I’ve accepted that.”

He sighs and pulls you into a bear hug- rubbing your back and soothing you. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about Dray.” You say and even Astoria can hear your smile from outside the door, “But we have to tell her.”

Draco nods and starts to pepper kisses down your neck- sloppy, desperate ones that even Astoria can recognise. “We can tell her after…”

“Dray…” You whine out in protest and he chuckles.

“Tell me to stop and I will pretty girl.”

Astoria doesn’t wait to hear your response, but when the two of you walk into the Great Hall for dinner that evening- large smiles and happily exhausted expressions covering your eyes- she knows what your answer was.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - NOVEMBER (the next day)

Astoria and Draco are sat by the lake together, doing homework and chatting as the rest of their friends keep themselves occupied- as they usually do when Astoria and Draco disappear off together. It’s a habit that they created a few years back when they decided that they needed to spend more time together, alone, to prepare for the inevitable future in which they’re married.

In the past it had been perfect - hours spent in their little corner of reality in which no one else besides the two of them existed. They’d sit and talk for hours - forgetting that time is even a measure in the great expanse of their universe- sometimes they’d do puzzles, play wizard’s chess or just respectively do their own homework. But now it’s changed, it seems that Draco is always itching for their time together to end so that he can return to you. And she knows that it’s not her fault, not anyone’s fault really, and that it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to spend time with her because anyone can see that he does hold some love for her in his heart. But it doesn’t compare to the love he has for you, it doesn’t compare to the way he wants to be next to you as much as possible.

“Are you a virgin?” Astoria asks suddenly as she turns to the boy beside her. She knows that it’s an intimate question, and that he has every right not to answer her, but she needs to know how strong the bond they’ve created over the years is.

Draco thinks on it for a few seconds, weighs the pros and cons of both lying and being honest, before he finally settles on his answer- knowing that it’ll lead to more questions. “No.”

Astoria can’t tell if she’s relieved that he didn’t lie or if she’s hurt that he wouldn’t have told her if she didn’t ask, but she pushes away the fog of emotion and continues on the mission that she set course for this morning. “Who?”

Draco gulps, “Y/N.”

Silence encapsulates them and sends them down a dark road of confusion - where to go from here?

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know.” Draco shrugs, feeling a smile crawl onto his face at the thought of you, “Maybe.”

“Hm.”

“But it doesn’t matter much anyway, I’m marrying you in a few years bumblebee.” He turns to her and grasps her hand in his own- trying to send a message of reassurance that just makes Astoria’s throat close up- sending her a soft and loving smile. A soft and loving smile that is no match for the one he would’ve sent to you if he’d said those words to you instead.

“True as that may be,” Astoria begins as she takes her hand out of his and pulls back to sit comfortably while facing him, “It’s no reason for us to not enjoy our youth.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asks as he sits up - hoping that maybe the two of you can start to see each other out in the open.

“Let’s see people, other people, while we can.”

“Are you sure?” He raises his eyebrows and she nods- before she has the chance to change her mind- “Who is he?” Draco asks with a smirk.

Astoria tilts her head to look at Draco clearly- to observe this man that she loves enough to let go of in hopes that he’ll come back to her- and she feels her heart warm at the thought of him being happy with you, despite her own desire to feel that love instead. “Trust me, there is no he.”

“Mhmm.” Draco hums absent-mindedly as he hooks his arm around Astoria’s shoulders and pulls her into his chest for a hug. “Thank you bumblebee.”

“You’re welcome.” She giggles out as he places a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be coming back to each other in the end anyway.”

Before long Astoria and Draco’s study sessions have a third participant. And Astoria thought that she’d hate it, she desperately wants to hate you for stealing his affection from her, but she can’t. Her plan to get you out of Draco’s system backfired quickly- her efforts to push you out of his heart recoiled on her as you pushed your way into hers- and soon enough the two of you become best friends.

Study sessions become picnics- ones where you and Astoria bully Draco with foolish nonsense like plaiting his hair, painting his nails, beating him at every muggle boardgame known to man, making him read to you both as you lay down on the picnic blanket and watch the clouds above. The sound of you and Astoria's combined giggles now fills Draco’s ears everyday, and he can’t possibly think of a sound he loves more.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - MAY

Shit. That’s the very first thing Astoria thinks when that morning’s copy of The Daily Prophet lands in front of her at the Slytherin table. Her eyes immediately shift to find where you’re seated but you’ve already gotten up and started marching out of the Great Hall. Draco’s eyes catch her own and they both nod silently in agreement before getting up from the table and moving to follow you.

The Headline had stated, in big, bold print, that your mother (among many other muggleborn witches and wizards in the Wizarding community) had not died of cancer but instead been poisoned by undercover Death Eaters that worked with her at St Mungo’s. They’d created a slow-acting potion that replicated the symptoms of cancer and made it impossible to identify the source of the sickness- which is why neither muggle doctors nor healers had been able to cure her.

Deep down both you and your father had known that she hadn’t died naturally, you’d both long suspected foul play even when she had first fallen sick, but no one seemed to be interested in your babblings of concern- chalking it down to grief and denial. So you’d moved on- stuffing it so far into the depths of your memory that you’d almost forgotten about it completely- but when that article had landed in front of you in the Great Hall hot, fresh tears of sorrow had started to pour down your cheeks without a moment of hesitation, and it had taken all of your strength to clamber out of the Great Hall and into your dorm room.

You’re crying so hard- completely lost in your cloud of affliction and immeasurable heartbreak- that you don’t even notice Draco and Astoria sneak into your room until they’re both sat beside you on your bed, running their hands up and down your back and your face - trying to bring you back down to planet earth with their movements of affection. But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough to take away your pain.

You don’t hear them whisper above you, and you don’t even notice what’s going on around you until Draco has lifted you up into his arms and started carrying you somewhere. You only manage to blink back tears and observe your surroundings once Draco has gently laid you in his bigger prefect bed and wrapped the covers around you.

“Lay with me.” Is all you manage to rasp out, sparing a glance at them both, before you drop your head into the pillows and try to find solace in sleep. They don’t hesitate to do as you wish- Draco climbing in bed behind you and Astoria climbing in by the front, bundling you up in the safety of their presence’s- and you sigh in relief when you start to feel Draco’s fingers in your hair and Astoria’s hand grasp your own.

It’s almost awkward- your back to Draco’s chest and Astoria’s head in yours as you strain to focus on the scent of her pomegranate shampoo as well as the scent of Draco’s oceanic one, so that there’s something to tether you to the real world- but there’s an almost protective nature to the way you’re all lying, like they’re saying more than words ever could; we’ll protect you. It’s safe and it’s warm, so you let your eyes close as you drift off to sleep.

But maybe that was the day it all started to fall apart, because that was the last time he ever looked at her with as much love as he looked at you with.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - JUNE

Astoria watches as your giggles fill his ears and leave him drunk with happiness- more drunk than any amount of the firewhiskey he’s holding could possibly even try to. It’s a bitter sight really, to see the one who’s meant to be yours falling deeper and deeper in love with someone else, to push down your feelings of contempt and jealousy for the sake of friendship - both with you and Draco.

You two are wrapped in a world of your own- the only thing either of you can focus on is the sound of each other’s voices and the feel of each other’s skin rubbing against each other as you sit in the common room with your friends for game night. The only thing tying you both down to earth is the distant sound of laughter that carries from Blaise, or maybe Theo, and toward you both- waking you up every few minutes from the trance of each other.

It’s in the breaks in between each game that the two of you get sucked back into the whirlwind of your love for each other - that he whispers to you everything he adores about you, and you whisper back all the things you adore about him- hushed, quiet, private, and yet observable from across the table where Astoria watches the scene in a state of silent fury. An anger so muted that one could easily mistake it for admiration, that one could simply miss the way she yearns to be in that place instead of her own, that one could misinterpret her desire to be the one smothered in the kisses of those soft lips.

Best friends.

Best friends.

The two of you are her best friends.

That’s what she tells herself when she feels that familiar coil of rage inching it’s way up into her throat and begging to meet with her tongue- to scold you both for hurting her so blatantly. But she doesn’t, no, her mother raised her with more self-restraint than that. She swallows her anger, her sadness, her jealousy, and reminds herself that no amount of fury will ever be worth losing you both.

He won’t choose her.

We’ll be coming back to each other in the end anyway, she reminds herself.

~~~

YEAR SIX - DECEMBER

When sixth rolls around no one fails to see the changes that Draco’s gone through over the summer break- least of all you and Astoria. You both try your best to act like everything is the same- like he’s not folding in on himself, shrinking closer and closer to just teeth and bones, losing all the colour in his face, draining more and more of life as the days go on- but it’s evident in the way he eats less, spends less time outside with you both and pushes you two as far away from him as remotely possible.

Winter Break rolls around and as usual, you all go down to the Malfoy Manor for the few days of Christmas. Excitement bubbles in the train carriage as you, Blaise, Daphne, Astoria and Theo converse about the upcoming break, but Draco doesn’t join in the conversation- he merely lets his head fall on your shoulder and his fingers intertwine with yours. Your close proximity is a silent reminder that he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say or show it as often, and that whatever he’s going through isn’t your fault but rather a much bigger problem.

It’s over break that you fully notice the impact of whatever Draco’s going through- his bright smile doesn’t appear when he greets his mother, and he flinches in her embrace when she comes up to hug him, he no longer meets you all in the garden late at night to watch the stars and talk till the sun rises, and the days that used to be spent laughing together are now consumed by him sleeping. Two days before you’re all due to leave, you decide that you’ve had enough and you confront Draco in his room- charming the room with a silencing charm in case you erupt into another fight.

“We need to talk.” You say from your seat on the edge of the bed as Draco walks out of the bathroom in a set of black pyjamas.

“Are we seriously doing this again Y/N?” He asks as he rolls his eyes and walks over to the vanity in his room.

“It’s the last time, I promise.” You say with a smile as you shrug. He looks at you skeptically and so you elaborate, “If you don’t tell me what I want to know then we’re breaking up.”

“Fine.” He replies simply with a shrug as he leans against the vanity. “It’s not like you’re not going to want to be with me once you know.”

“And how can you possibly know that?”

“Because it’s bad, Y/N, it’s really really bad.”

You sigh and swallow as you look at the ground. A few seconds pass before you continue, “Do you remember when your father got sentenced?”

A look of confusion flashes across his features but he nods slowly anyway, “Yes, why?”

“You’d started walking ahead with Blaise and Astoria so you didn’t see but, your mother came to talk to me.” You start as you give him a sad smile, “She asked me if I was going to break your heart. When I asked her why she thought that, she asked me how I could possibly love the son of someone who knew the people that killed my mother in cold blood.”

“Why didn’t you te-“ Draco starts but you lift your hand and cut him off.

“I thought about it and I realised that it didn’t matter to me, my love for you is beyond any physical measure and it can’t be wavered by something as morbidly coincidental as that. I told her that I love you more than words can describe and that it didn’t matter to me because that’s not you.” You laugh a sad laugh, “Do you want to know what she said back?”

“What?”

“She told me that ‘to be a Malfoy is to be burdened by responsibility and raised with the weight of the world on your shoulders.’ She told me that I should be prepared to lose you when your duty to your family gets in the way of your love for me.”

“Nothing’s in the way of my love for you, I promise-“ He interrupts you and you send him a look that shuts him up.

“When I asked what duty she was referring to, she said to me ‘the one his father couldn’t fulfill.’” You finish with a large and shaky breath as your eyes finally shift upwards to settle against his unwavering gaze. “So I’m going to ask you this once. If you lie to me then we’re done because I will assume that she was right.”

Draco gulps but nods, “Go ahead.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, are you a death eater?”

He doesn’t answer at first, he’s still staring at you and dumbfounded at the fact that you’d figured it out, but once he does finally process what you’ve asked him then he starts to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. You gasp at the sight of the skull and snake embroidering the pale skin underneath, and immediately look away so you don’t cry. “Yes, Y/N, I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I?” He asks as he looks at you sadly and you nod in understanding- opening your arms for him to come and settle in them.

The two of you sit like that for hours- in bed, him crying in your arms as he tells you what he’s been tasked with and how he’s been trying to fulfill the task alone over the last few months, he tells you about the Vanishing Cabinet, about having to kill Dumbledore, about learning Occulemency with his Aunt Bellatrix and figuring out for the first time how deep his love for you runs in his veins- and you try your best to choke back tears and be strong for him as he finally opens up for the first time in months.

When the two of you finally leave the room to go downstairs for dinner, Draco feels as though a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he smiles, for the first time in months, and it’s for you.

Both Astoria and Narcissa easily take notice of Draco’s altered demeanor when you and him make your way to the table. Astoria feels jealousy wash over her when she watches him pull out a chair for you, kiss your forehead, dish food out for you, and stare in admiration as you eat. Narcissa on the other hand, feels pride, and an unbridled sense of relief at the fact that you managed to help her son out of his head. Astoria’s eyes land on Narcissa’s face for a moment and she sees it; the look of acceptance that a proud mother gives to the one who owns their child’s heart.

And that’s the first time that Astoria realises, maybe we’re not coming back to each other in the end.

~~~

1998 - MAY

Draco feels his breath caught in his lungs as he searches for you throughout the castle - fighting off anyone and anything that stands in the way of him coming across you. He finds Theo, Goyle and Blaise while searching for you and the four of them run through the castle with fire in their bones and aches in their heart at the prospect of not being able to see their friends again. But then it happens, his eyes land on a flash of blonde waving around the courtyard with determination; Daphne. And beside her, in all your magnificent and powerful glory, is you.

The four boys run toward the two of you and you all have a brief moment of relief consume you as you reunite in each others arms. Hugs are thrown around, kisses passed along, and soft words of reassurance are spread to remind you all that you’re alive and together. But as soon as that moment of relief fades, a panic sets in its place as you and Draco realise that Astoria is still missing.

“I thought she was with you.” Daphne says to Draco as her breaths become uneven again and tears begin to prick at her eyes.

“It’s okay, we’ll go find her.” You tell Daphne as you pull her into a hug quickly before pulling away and lacing your fingers with Draco’s.

“The rest of you try to get somewhere safe, we’ll find each other again.” Draco orders the rest of your friends and soon you and him are off to find Astoria - running up and down between corridors and hidden alcoves in hopes of finding your best friend, your missing piece.

After ten minutes of looking you find her, fighting for the right side with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, with blood smearing her cheeks and her eyes blown wide with fear.

That’s when Draco feels like he can breathe again.

You and Draco rush up to her and capture her in your combined embrace - trying to focus solely on the faint smell of pomegranate that wafts off of her hair, trying to commit this moment to memory so that you can always remember what it felt like to have the two pieces of your heart back together again.

“You found me.” Astoria breathes out as tears fall down her face.

“We always come back to each other.” Draco says back as he smiles down at her and you wipe the tears off of her face.

“Don’t be sappy.” She responds as she chokes out a laugh.

“I can’t help it, I was worried that I might have to marry Daphne instead!” He exclaims and the three of you laugh, despite the awkwardness of the situation, almost forgetting that walls are crumbling around you and lives are fading out into nothing.

“You should know by now that I’d never leave you to suffer that fate.”

“I do bumblebee.”

It’s when she looks up into his eyes finally that she sees it, the difference between his love for you and his love for her. There is a different kind of love, safety, understanding, lust, that transpires between you both when you look into each other’s eyes, one that doesn’t appear when he looks into her own. The light that shines in you and Draco’s eyes when you look at Astoria is a dim comparison to the light that shines when you look at each other; a candle compared to the sun.

You both love her. And she, oddly, loves you both. But it’s not the way that you love each other, and Draco would never be able to love her again after loving you so fiercely.

She sighs and puts on a small smile. “Please can we go?”

“Yes, of course. We’ve got to find the others.

“Same side, always.” Draco insists and you look up to him and shake your head.

“Draco, I can’t ju-“

“Same side, always.” Astoria repeats, with pleading eyes, and you sigh before nodding.

“Same side, always.” You reply as you turn to head back in the direction that you came from. Astoria holds out both of her hands, you and Draco take them happily, and the three of you walk toward the end of the war together.

Later when you arrive in the courtyard to hear that Harry Potter is dead Astoria immediately runs to join her sister and her parents on the other side, on Voldemort’s side. And not soon after, you follow Draco as he joins his parents on the other side, keeping your promise to always be on the same side.

It’s only when you’re all in the Malfoy Manor later that evening after defecting when the reality of your situation finally dawns on you and you break down in tears- tears of grief, pain, anguish, anger, relief. Astoria watches in envy as Narcissa receives you in her arms- tears staining her face already as she grips you so tight that you might suffocate. She keeps you in her arms for a while- soothing your light sobs, sending hushed whispers and reassurances your way, promising that they’ll protect you and thanking you for keeping her son safe. Lucius says nothing and doesn’t allow his expressionless demeanor to fall, but when you finally pull away from Narcissa to stand beside Draco, Lucius grabs your hand and squeezes it- a gesture so small that one could easily miss it, but one that says everything he possibly could’ve said in that moment.

Then, she realises that she didn’t lose, how could she when it had never been a competition in the first place. Draco had always belonged to her on paper, but his love for you was written in the stars from the moment that you were both born. Astoria didn’t lose because she was never in the race, in fact there was never a race to begin with.

It had always been you.

~~~

2001


A few years passed- names were forgotten, new engagements were made, houses were moved out of and new homes were created on the ashes of grief- but one morning she felt her heart drop deep into the pit of her stomach. Lying on her kitchen counter was a gorgeous invitation to a wedding, you and Draco’s wedding, and a letter from you- in which you begged for her to be your bridesmaid.

After the war Astoria had told her parents and the Malfoy’s that she couldn’t go through with the arranged marriage- that he deserved to marry someone that he loved instead- and then she’d pack up her bags and started traveling the world- desperately in search of a love like yours and Draco’s. She didn’t succeed, she couldn’t find anyone that she loved with that much magnitude. So after two fruitless years of traveling she’d returned to the UK - applying for and receiving the appointment of Hogwarts Charms teacher once she’d gotten back.

Slowly, bit by bit, she began to reach out to her old friends and of course, you and Draco had been the first to respond- excited to see her again and yearning for the old days when the three of you would lose time laughing together. She’d been shocked to find out that the two of you had done some traveling as well- exploring Asia, Africa, South America and North America alike, eating food from every culture you came across and dancing to music that you’d never hear back home- and the three of you had spent the next few months meeting up for dinner and talking about your travels.

That was perfect, to Astoria, that was all she needed.

A year passed since she’d been home when Draco surprised you one night, serenading you with poetry he’d written about you over the years and getting down on one knee to proclaim his immeasurable, undying love for you and his eternal devotion to you. The very next morning the two of you were sending out invitations and you were begging for Astoria to be your bridesmaid.

She said yes, of course, and she was the best bridesmaid that you could’ve asked for.

~~~

2002

She’d cried - whether it was to mourn a love that once was or to celebrate a love that now is, she didn’t know. When you and Draco had said your vows she had cried, and the first thing that you and Draco had done once the ceremony had ended was engulf her in your arms. She’d been there for every stage of your relationship and if it hadn’t been for her the two of you probably wouldn’t have been able to get married.

She laughs in the midst of her tears as the two of you hug her- lost in a bittersweet trance of happiness and discontent, she feels full of the love that the two of you hold for each other but there’s a gaping hole that still begs to be filled in her own chest. “Why are you two hugging me? It’s your wedding!”

You wipe a few tears that have fallen down your own face- completely forgetting that your makeup will be ruined- and  pull away to face her. “We’re thanking you. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

“We’re in debt to you bumblebee.” Draco says with a chuckle and she shakes her head immediately at his words.

“You two owe me nothing - your happiness is enough for me.” And in a way it’s true, the two of you having each other fulfills her in a distant but comforting manner. “Now, time to throw the bouquet!” She exclaims as she clings onto your wrist and pulls you away from your groaning husband.

When the bouquet lands in Astoria’s hands, instead of the many other women circling around her, she feels her breath hitch in her throat. Who can she possibly marry when she’ll never love anyone the way that she loves-

“If I’m not your bridesmaid as well then I’ll kill you at the alter.” You cut off her train of thought as you come up to her with a big smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of it being anyone else.” She replies with a smile and you both laugh as you catch each other in one last warm embrace before everyone moves up to the reception.

It’s the way your hands fit perfectly around her waist, the way you breath runs along her ear as you laugh absent-mindedly, and the way you smile at her when you pull apart. You smile at her but it’s not enough to make her smile back because she finally sees what she’s been trying desperately not to see for so long. You smile at her- bright, warm, inviting, happy- the way a friend smiles at another, with love and adoration and support. But it’s just not enough.

It’s at that moment she realises.

She isn’t in love with him. No. She can’t be.

She’s in love with you.

<~>

I feel like this wasn't as angsty as I originally wanted it to be but I still really love it. :)

anyway, i’m currently listening to ‘break my heart again’ by finneas so i'm off to go cry about Astoria’s ending as if i am her.

IN REGARDS TO A SEQUEL: It might be coming soon.

love you all

jean <3

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin’s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

octopus hearts || tom holland x reader

a/n: how do my intended blurbs turn out so long! god dammit. this idea popped into my head, so I hope you all like it. as always thank you so much for supporting; liking, reblogging, commenting or messaging me about any of my work. I love interacting with you guys and I plan to try and be more of a presence in general, not just with writing. come chat! hope you’re all well x  word count: 1638 warning: none...I think everything I write is pretty tame summary: it’s about time you and tom extended your little family 

“You do know she’s only young...” “And? What’s your point?” “The point is, you’ve managed to find the biggest toy in this whole place!” Tom turns to you, cradling two sacks of dry food to his chest, muscles straining slightly against his t-shirt. In his free hand was a large fluffy purple octopus - all 8 legs dangling centimetres off the ground. You’re both stood in front of the full aisle of toys, picking out your favourites for your new arrival. “She’ll grow! Plus look at it...she’ll love it.” He holds up the toy until it’s eye level with you, its stitched mouth looking at you almost mockingly. You roll your eyes, smiling at Tom’s pleading face, his bottom lip curling upwards into a pout. “Okay, it is cute. But that’s the last one Tom, we don’t even know if she’ll like them yet.” Tom grinned cheekily, slipping the toy into the growing basket you were holding, planting a sloppy thank you kiss onto your cheek as he did so. You laughed as he fist pumped the air before continuing your way through the aisles. The excitement was building, the whole situation becoming more and more real, as you searched for the necessary items.

//// “No peeking!”

If you could’ve rolled your eyes, you would have. You had been sat in the car for around 15 minutes, with your eyes closed and your hands covering your face.

Tom had finally wrapped his latest film in the US, and you had spent the past three days in-between your classes ‘reuniting’ – neither of you surfacing from your shared bedroom unless you were forced to do so. You had assumed Tom had met up with the boys, gone down to his local or played golf during your class time and were therefore extremely confused as to why he suddenly woke up one morning, bribed you to get dressed and dragged you out of the house, only to beg you to keep your eyes closed as soon as you got into the car.

“I’m not sure I like this surprise Tom, where the hell are we going?”

“We’re almost there, you’re going to love it! I promise.”

You felt the car come to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the tyres.

“Stay here one sec.” You heard Tom’s car door slam shut, and soon enough you felt the cold air as yours opened.

He guided you out of the car, allowing you to use him for balance as you struggled to get your bearings, eyes remaining closed the entire time.

“Okay. You can open them.”

You slowly opened them, blinking confused as you looked at a grey building. you eyed tom from the side, seeing his cheeky grin lighting up his entire face before you turned back to the building. It was then that you noticed the sign.

You were at your local dog rescue shelter.

“Tom…what are we doing here?” You fully turn to face him, eyes widening in both excitement and shock.

“Well we’ve lived together for over a year now and I know we said it wasn’t possible. But with this new film, they’re looking at a franchise and it’s an entirely UK based production, so I’ll be here, and I don’t know – you’re graduating soon, I’ve looked into dog sitters and walkers for during the day. My family can help ou-”

You interrupt him mid-sentence, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders as you pull him towards you, eyes fluttering closed as you kissed him. Your entire stomach erupted into fluttering butterflies at all the thought behind the surprise, at the idea that Tom was genuinely just as excited about adding to your little family as you were.

You push back suddenly, “This is actually happening right now? You’re not messing me around? Because that would be a mean prank…”

“No,” he grins, laughing. You felt his breath tickle your cheek, “it’s all real. Now c’mon, we’re going to be late for our doggy date.”

He tucks you into his side, arm wrapped around you as you head into the building, your stomach doing somersaults the entire time.

////

Your phone buzzed, lighting up next to your laptop. You were in your university library, researching titles of books you needed for your dissertation when a text from Tom popped up:

eta 10 minutes x

You immediately took note of the last couple books on your list, before closing your laptop and stuffing it into your bag. You grabbed the pile of books you’d already collected into your arms before checking them out at the front desk, heading immediately for the nearest train station.

You made it home in record time.

As you unlocked the front door you could hear the pitter patter of tiny feet on the wooden floor. Placing your bag and books on the entry table, you let your keys fall into the bowl alongside Tom’s.

“Hey baby. In here.”

You peeked around the corner into the living room where Tom was lying stretched out on his side in the centre of the room. Holding his head up with his palm, he held up a soft crinkly toy as your new little ball of golden fluff jumped on her hind legs in her attempts to reach it.

“We’re bonding,” he murmured, lifting his head to look up at you, “come join us.”

The little puppy was all legs and floppy ears as she caught her toy and bounced across the room, tripping over it as she tried to hold it up. She paused as you entered, her head tilting dramatically from left to right, her toy immediately laying discarded as she tumbled towards you.

“Hey puppy! Hi Nala.” You kneel down, letting her sniff you to remind herself of who you were, before she wiggled onto her back, paws in the air as you gave her belly rubs. Her white and golden tail thumping on the wooden floorboards.

“Oh my god Tom, I can’t believe she’s here!” He sits up, grinning from ear to ear. He rolls one of the balls next to him and you both watch as Nala bounces after it, attention immediately grabbed. You shuffle towards him, placing yourself in his lap, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Did she cope with the journey okay?”

Tom winds his arms around your stomach, “She was a star. She’s great in the car, didn’t even cry.”

You nod as he begins peppering kisses on your collarbone, as you watch your new puppy continue to explore her new home.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to one of the discarded toys, the giant octopus that was taking up a scary amount of room on the floor. You roll your head towards your boyfriend smirking slightly, “I take it she didn’t like it?”

He whines quietly, huffing, “So she might have run away from it, I think it freaked her out…” you laugh, tangling a hand into his hair as you pull him towards you, before you hear a noise that causes you both to dart your heads up in search of the destructive sound.

“Oh, fantastic so she’s hates my choice in toys, and she’s a cockblock,” Tom mutters as you stifle a giggle, immediately hurrying after your little pup.

////

You were laying on the couch, Tom’s chest pressed to your back. Nala had completely passed out, lying half in her crate, and half out of it and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her.

“Well, I think that was relatively successful,” you murmur.

“You would think that, it wasn’t your shoe laces that she chewed up,” Tom murmured from behind you.

You’d both had a tiring day with Nala. Once she got bored of playing with her toys, she immediately decided that running outside with Tom’s shoe and hiding under one of the bushes just out of reach would be far more exciting.

“You can’t get mad at her, look at her little face.” You sigh, officially completely head over heels in love, “I can’t believe someone would just dump her, she’s gorgeous.”

You felt Tom brushing a hand up you side absentmindedly as he nodded, “I know. They think she was bought as a christmas present, and then abandoned a couple weeks later.”

“We’re going to give her so much love. And I can’t wait to introduce her to Tess. You think they’ll be friends?” You grasp the fingers trailing up your arm and bring them closer round you, interlocking yours with his.

“For sure...best of friends.” He says as you snuggle further down against Tom, his arms tightening around you as you both relax against each other.

The pair of you let Nala recharge her batteries, diving into an episode of the latest show you had been watching together when you jump with a small gasp at the startling movement beneath you, as Tom sat himself up.

“Oh my god, look!”

You take a glance at Nala. she’d shifted herself in her sleep so instead of laying on the cushioned dog bed and blankets that were in her crate, she’d shimmied out and lay flat out against the giant octopus. Paws tangled with the soft legs of the toy as her head rested on its fluffy body, her pink tongue lolling to one side.

“Yes!” Tom cheered, Nala’s eyes immediately opening from the noise, “I knew she’d love it! Watch this space, Oscar the octopus is going to be her favourite.” He jumped off the couch and hunkered down next to her.

“Wait…do not tell me you named it?”

You took in the man in front of you, lying on his front playing with the pads of Nala’s paws and felt your cheeks begin to ache slightly from the smile on your face.

“Who’s clever! Yes Nala, clever girl.”

You took in your dorky little family, sliding off the couch to join them. The perfect little family of three. 

[hen-of-letters]

@spnprideweek day one: flags

This little ficlet for #spnprideweek is brought to you by my big, non-binary bisexual love for this beautiful fandom, and my desire to fix that moment in 'Baby' when Cas indulges Dean by saying "werepire", but Dean doesn't hear him and Cas doesn't know. It ended up getting a bit long, so there's more under the cut or over on AO3. Thanks!

Dean's at Pride, and feeling a rising level of discomfort.

It's not the fact that he's wearing eyeliner in public for the first time in his forty-two years. Hell, he'd been wanting to do that ever since he was a kid, dreaming of being a rock star. The covers of music magazines in gas station racks had been windows on a world free from the brutally narrow definition of what his Dad meant when he told him to "be a man". Gradually, though, he'd learned what is gloriously apparent today under the hot June sun: that there are as many ways of being a man as there are men.

It's not because the sleeveless white t-shirt he's wearing is somewhat snug. (The heat had made him shed his pink, purple and blue plaid shirt - the one he'd worn today because Claire always called it his 'bi flannel' - and tie it around his waist.) He and Cas are both wearing a little of their contentment on their waistlines these days, and he believes Cas when he says that he adores his body because he means it when he says the same to Cas.

It's not the big, heart-shaped sticker slapped on his chest, which is striped in the colours of the bisexual pride flag in a way that's much less subtle than the flannel. Dean's always known that he wasn't only into chicks, but putting a name to it is new. Dean's had jobs and Dean's had roles, but having an identity had always seemed like a luxury well beyond Dean's means. Now he's not constantly running for his life, though, he has the breathing room to figure himself out. And he's good with this part of himself. More than good.

It's not the two flags that are padding the pockets of his jeans. One, he'd bought for Cas: it's striped in pale pink, pale blue and white. Earlier, he'd gone with Cas when he'd met up with some friends he'd met online (having managed to get past all the cats this time). The ex-angel had found that discussing their experiences of being trans had helped him feel happy in the body that had become his own. Dean could only feel immense gratitude for the way Cas' face had lit up afterwards when he'd talked about how he was creating himself, becoming himself, and embracing the human condition of change.

Dean hopes that the gift of the trans pride flag will show Cas that Dean understands and loves him, and the same is true for the other flag, which he'd picked up for Jack. It's yellow, white, purple and black. Dean had had to do a little research when Jack had used the term non-binary - it's amazing how the world can move on while you're living in an underground bunker. He'd kept on researching, too, after he'd learned the basics. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. Maybe there was more to discover about himself, and wasn't that fantastic?

Jack is wandering around somewhere with Claire and Kaia. Jody and Donna are here, too, with Alex and Patience. Adam and Michael have probably partied their way through fifty international pride parades by now, but they should be meeting up with everyone else later. Sam and Eileen are not far away. Eileen was the one who's slapped the bi pride sticker on Dean's chest - with unnecessary force, if you asked Dean. She'd grinned at him, showed off the identical sticker on her own chest, and said, with a suitably cheesy wink, "we need to stick together". He remembered the moment he'd nervously asked her the sign for 'bisexual', and when she'd shown him - the letter signs for 'b' and 'i' - she'd added, "me too," and Dean had scooped her up into a crushing hug.His love for his family is endless, and them all being here is definitely not why he's uncomfortable.

And it's not the body glitter freckling his cheeks and his shoulders with gold, although his feelings might change by the time he tries to remove it tonight. He'd been gilded with it when he'd been dancing up a storm with a group of drag queens. They'd admired his eyeliner - a deep brown shot through with gold along his upper lashes - but winked and said it was "a little subtle for Pride". As soon as Dean had seen the tube of glitter, he'd yelled "hell yes!" and even managed to hold still long enough to be coated in the stuff before moving his body to the beat again. Although he's sure his feet will be aching later, so far his favourite cowboy boots are not the source of his discomfort.

It's not the bright pink feather boa, either, which he'd acquired from the same source as the glitter, when he'd been sent off with a kiss to the cheek and the words "be bold, honey!" He'd expected the boa to tickle or irritate, but for some bizarre reason the sensation of feathers around his shoulders and the back of his neck feels incredibly comforting and reassuring. He feels warm and safe and oh. Oh.

As that particular realisation sweeps over him, Dean tightens his hold on Cas. He's standing behind him with his right hand on Cas' hip, and his left arm is up over his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. His hand is splayed out, at once putting his silver wedding band on display and somehow attempting to conceal Cas from the eyes of his many admirers (and, well, good luck with that. Cas is incredibly beefy these days).

Which brings us to the source of Dean's discomfort; to the thing that's deepening the furrow in his brow and the dimples beside his pursed lips: namely, the sheer number of guys hitting on Cas.

It's not like Dean can blame them. Cas' muscular frame is wrapped in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt bearing the Led Zeppelin 1975 tour logo. The short sleeves show off the floral tattoos trailing down his left arm. Cas is wearing a rainbow-coloured enamel belt buckle and, because he's determined to be the death of Dean, black cowboy boots. Before they'd left, Dean hadn't been able to resist grabbing a black kohl pencil and smudging a little along Cas' upper and lower lashes. And, okay, maybe Cas' wide-eyed bewilderment every time he's flirted with is vaguely amusing. But when Dean is right here? Not cool.

Right on cue, here's another one. From over his husband's shoulder, Dean levels his very best glare at the guy. It's a look that can stop a demon dead in its tracks. A vampire would tremble. A werewolf would wet itself. But one young gay guy with a few drinks in him? Totally unaffected. Like the others, he's all smiles and understanding when Cas politely, if awkwardly, waves him away. (Literally. With a final dorky little wave goodbye.)

Dean realises that he's moved his right arm around Cas' waist, so now Dean is wrapped around Cas like some kind of koala/octopus hybrid. An octoala? A koctopus? Definitely koctopus. Heh.

Dean snorts at the thought, which is somewhat unfortunate, given that his face is right next to Cas' ear. Cas flinches and turns his head around to fix him in a squinty glare.

"Koctopus?" Dean says, apologetically.

Cas narrows his eyes further and tilts his head to the side.

"Um, the way I was wrapped around you. I was like a cross between a koala and an octopus."

Dean nudges Cas. "So what does that make me? C'mon, you know you wanna say it."

Cas just tilts his head a bit further to the side, either in confusion or outright despair. Dean has untangled himself from Cas and stepped back, and looks down at the ground, suddenly self-conscious.

Dean feels Cas' hand on his shoulder, and then it smooths over his back, finding the back of his neck underneath the boa. Whatever his shape, Cas' touch has the exact same effect on Dean. He looks up into the impossibly blue eyes of his husband.

"You're a very glittery," Cas begins, softly, "and very beautiful," one corner of his mouth lifts, and then he purses his lips together, trying to hold back the smile, "koctopus."

The corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's not amused by the joke, Dean knows, just absurdly pleased to be saying something he knows will make Dean happy. Of course Dean knows that Cas loves him, knows the whole cosmic-realm-crossing magnitude of it, but in little moments like this, he's floored by it. Dean can't help his sudden exhale or the massive grin that breaks across his face. He wraps his husband up in hug that they hold for a good long moment, before Dean leans back to kiss Cas.

No one had ever explained to Dean how difficult it is to kiss someone when you can't stop smiling. He'd never had that problem before Cas, but now it's practically a daily occurrence. It's a menace because kissing Cas is one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Now, they trade little pecks between wide, toothy grins, until passion takes over and the kisses become heavier.

It takes someone wolf-whistling for them to part, and then they're back to grinning and staring into each others' eyes, until Dean spots something on Cas' face. And something else. And something else. In fact, there's something all over Cas, and that something is gold glitter. It's on his face, his hands, his Zeppelin shirt, and even in his hair. Dean runs his fingers through the unruly curls - Cas has been wearing his hair longer lately - in an attempt to shake it out, but only deposits more glitter into Cas' locks.

"Oops," Dean says, "I kinda glitter bombed you there. It's all over your shirt, too. Sorry, Sunshine."

He doesn't sound terribly sorry.

"This is your shirt, Dean."

"Aw, man."

He does sound a little sorry now, but his future laundry woes are forgotten when Cas presses another kiss to his pouting lips. They're forgotten again when something across the crowd catches Dean's eye.

"Oooh," Dean exclaims as he drags Cas towards the stall he's spotted.

It's selling cowboy hats in every configuration of colour imaginable, and Dean is practically jumping on the spot excitement. Cas looks his husband up and down, slowly.

"You think your outfit's lacking accessories?" he deadpans.

"Yup," is Dean's gleeful reply, "and so's yours."

Cas' groan is lost to the noise of the crowd and the beat of the music, so no-one will ever know if it was one of protest or defeat. He does, in fact, end up wearing a black cowboy hat with a rainbow band, so if it was protest then it was highly ineffective. Dean's has a pink crown, purple band and blue brim, and he's carrying another black one with a band in the non-binary flag colours for Jack. Cas admits that Jack's going to love it.

"Damn, this is awesome," Dean says as they head back to meet up with the rest of their family.

Walking hand in hand with Cas, Dean's thoughts wander. Dean could kick his younger self for every time he'd called someone gay or a girl as a way of saying they were weak. Because all he can see in the people around him is strength. He grins again, giddy with the atmosphere of defiant joy. All around him is everything he'd spent his life fighting to protect: freedom, family, and love. Holding his husband's hand a little tighter, he's grateful that in the end he gets to have both: freedom and peace.

[theysayitscrazy]

Depression Bites

This one is for @rebelwrites She was feeling a little down today and reached out to friends for a little pick me up. Here you go darlin, I hope it helps. If even just a little bit.

Clay Spenser x Reader

You’re feeling a little down and overwhelmed and your man comes to cheer you up.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on you. It’s a perfectly beautiful sunny summer day out, but you feel like a rain cloud is hanging over your head. You feel like you’re drowning and barely managing to stay afloat. Nothing you seem to do can shake the feeling. Like you aren’t good enough. That overwhelming feeling of drowning rises up again and you fight the urge to scream.

You look around the house and see nothing but messes everywhere. Laundry piled up on couches, half folded, half dirty, you don’t even know at this point. There are stacks of dishes piled by the sink and you’re officially out of clean silverware.

Work was a whole other nightmare. The special project you were in charge of was behind. You spent the day trying to get that caught up, only for your inbox to be neglected. The forty unread emails at the end of the day really set you over the edge. The feeling of despair bubbling over.

You logged off your work PC feeling defeated and turn and face your mess of a living room. The small apartment walls were closing in and you didn’t understand why. You’d been so happy last weekend. You and Clay had gotten away, just the two of you for a full three days. He’d taken some leave time to ensure you wouldn’t be interrupted.

You had finally felt connected again. After years together, things sometimes got stagnant with any long-term relationship, but Clay always made sure to remind you just how much you meant to him. He had surprised you with your favorite flowers the morning of your get away. He’d been extra attentive all weekend. Catering to your every whim while away. Ice cream for breakfast? You got it.

He’d be so extra sweet all weekend, and then you’d come home and back to reality. Not that he wasn’t sweet at home, just life got in the way. He’d been spun up the day after you returned and had been in and out ever since.

While you tried to navigate the mess that had become your home and life. You had both been so exhausted from your weekend away that you had dumped the bags on the floor by the door when you walked in. Taking one day off of work, had set you back several DAYS, and while your boss was understanding, you felt like you were failing.

Work from home life was getting to you. The lack of human interaction was getting to you. You weren’t made to sit at home, you were meant to lead the pack and run the social circles.

You head into the bedroom of the small one-bedroom apartment and climbed into the unmade bed. More clothes littered the floor than you cared to admit. You can’t help the tears that run down your face as you pull the covers over your head.

You hate this feeling. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You don’t understand how you could go from so fricken happy while you were away, to feeling this low and shitty a week later.

You hear the front door open and sigh. You know what he sees when he walks in the house. A mess, everywhere. “Babe,” he calls out.

You don’t have the energy to respond.

You hear his feet pad across the hardwood floors and then the bed dips as he gets on it. “Hey, you a sleep?” his voice is soft as he slides across the bed and wraps his arms around you. He cradles you within his strong arms and hold on tight, pulling you back against his hard body.

Somewhere along the way, he’d lost the shirt and you can feel his smooth, hot skin slid against yours as his strong arms cradle you against him. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, when he finally gets a look of your tear streaked face.

You shake your head no, and it breaks your heart to see the pain in his eyes. His pain, for your pain. You reach out and run a hand over his scruffy beard. He’d been growing it out lately, knowing how much you enjoyed it.

You roll over, and he turns with you, so he’s lying flat on his back with you resting your head on his shoulder. His arms stay wrapped tightly around you and you shudder out a sigh of contentment as you relax into his body. You idly run a hand across his bare chest and just breathe in his scent.

You close your eyes and just feel the moment.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and says, “You know it’s going to be okay, right? Whatever it is.” He squeezes you tighter and you let the tears fall down your face.

That feeling overwhelming drowning threatens to rise up again, but Clay turns again and faces you. He pulls you into him, so your head is cradled against his chest and tangles your legs together. His powerful arms are wrapped tightly around you and you drape an arm over his side, running your hand across his bare back idly.

You love the feeling of his smooth skin, the way the muscles ripple and contract from your touch, and your touch alone.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in your ear.

You smile faintly, but he can’t see it. Your head is buried in his chest.

“Your strong, and fierce, and brave,” he whispers, peppering your head with kisses in between each word. “You can take on the world and kick its ass with just a messy bun and a little bit of coffee,” you can feel his grin as he kisses your forehead.

You smile into his chest, feeling slightly better.

“Even if your toes smell like cottage cheese,” he adds.

“Hey!” you huff with a watery laugh and smack his chest.

His laughter sends you over the edge and you giggle. God, you love the sound of his laughter.

“You’re an ass,” you inform him, a smile on your face as you look up at him.

His beautiful baby blue eyes are twinkling down at you as he gives you one of his very best smiles. One of those charming, only reserved for you, grins. “But I’m your ass, though,” he reminds you.

“Yeaaah,” you murmur, rubbing his beard. “Yeah, you are.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “How about some ice cream for dinner and shitty movie on Netflix?”

You laugh and then say, “I know you did not just try and turn this moment into a Netflix and Chill, Spenser,” you roll your eyes.

He presses another kiss to your lips and chuckles, “I wouldn’t dream of it babe.”

“Would too,” you huff, a smile on your lips.

“Can I blame a guy for tryin? My girl is damn beautiful with her messy bun and stinky toes,” he smirks up at you.

“Oh, hell no!” you huff and poke him a particularly ticklish spot on his side.

He jumps and giggles like a fricken school girl.

You have a wide grin on your face as you stare down at your man in bed. For the moment you feel better. You can let the outside noise drift away and focus on the handsome and dorky man in your bed. “Alright, ice cream and Netflix,” you agree.

He sits up and presses a kiss to you lips before he pulls you into another bear hug. “I love you. Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see. It’s just a shitty day. It’ll pass. You’ll kick this in the ass too.”

You breathe a watery sigh and hold on tight to his broad and muscular body. “God damn, I love you too,” you respond and kiss his shoulder. You close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of the safeness that was your man.

[aalissy]

Secrets

And we have now finished a week of Marichat May woot woot!! Plus, I’ve almost finished all my finals too <3. Lemme know if you like this chapter tho be warned it DOES have spoilers for Gang of Secrets so plzzz watch that episode first :)

AO3

Chat paced atop Marinette’s balcony, running a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up even further. His mind and thoughts were centered solely around the conversation he had earlier tonight with Ladybug. Eventually, he tightened his jaw, determination filling him as he was about to knock on her trapdoor.

Unfortunately for him, though, Marinette swung it up before he could, hitting him directly in the jaw. Her mouth immediately dropped as she raced to him, cradling his face between her warm hands. “Oh my god, kitty, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that you were up here! How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” Chat choked out, brushing off her worries with a wave of his gloved hand. His jaw throbbed fiercely but it was nothing compared to some of the injuries he received during akuma attacks.

“If you’re sure,” Marinette muttered, a frown creasing her brow. She narrowed her gaze at him before she tilted her head, looking at him curiously. “But, what were you doing out here? Have you been here long?”

He glanced away from her, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed a light pink. Chuckling nervously, he said, “No, I just got here.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. Instead of replying back to him, she nodded her head, gesturing for him to continue explaining. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage before talking again, “I have something really important to tell you.”

Marinette blinked at his words, her expression a mixture of shock and confusion. She worried on her lower lip as she peered up at him. “Go on.”

“Well,” Chat started with another nervous chuckle. “Ladybug and I had a talk tonight and she mentioned that she told a civilian who she was.”

A knowing look entered her eyes and before he could analyze what that meant, she gasped with shock, placing a hand over her chest. “Did she really? That sounds super dangerous, is everything okay? A-and are you okay? I know you’ve wanted to reveal your identity to her for a while.”

He shook his head, a brush of disappointment welling up inside of him before he pushed it away. There was no time to be too upset about it. She had made her choice and it was over now. Besides, he still needed to make his request to Marinette. With a quiet sigh, Chat murmured, “Yeah, I’m just purrfect... a little disappointed, maybe but I understand why she did it.”

Marinette leaned on the brick wall of her balcony, nodding her head rather solemnly as she crossed her arms. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re not here for a much-deserved rant against her.”

“No, no,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I’m not here to rant. I actually came because I had a favor to ask you.”

Another frown furrowed her brow and she uncrossed her arms, leaving them to hang by her side. “Alright, what do you need?”

Chat sucked in another deep breath before shutting his eyes tightly. Speaking quickly, he blurted out his request. “I want you to be the one to know my secret identity!”

She practically choked at that, shouting, “What?!”

Immediately, he opened his eyes to look at her. Marinette had pushed off of the wall, pulling on her pigtails as she paced back and forth on the small balcony. He watched her angrily mutter to herself for a few moments before he hesitantly called her name, “Marinette?”

Her head whipped to his and she walked closer to him. “Why me?” she whispered quietly, her eyes a mix of desperation and sadness.

Chat cleared his throat, shifting from side to side as he considered her words. “Well, I’m practically always here and you’re one of the most trustworthy people I know. If I was going to reveal my identity to anyone but Ladybug it would be you, Marinette. And, besides, you were pretty pawerful as Multimouse.”

He had thought that his pun would lighten the mood some, but if anything it made it even worse. Marinette looked even more sullen as she gazed down at the floor sadly. She rubbed her eyes before sighing quietly. “I can’t know your secret identity, Chat. I-I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He blinked at her a few times. “Why not? You’re the purrfect choice. You’ve never been akumatized and you’re one of my best friends.”

Marinette peeked back up at him with a soft smile. “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t tell me. What happens if I do get akumatized? Or what if Hawkmoth figures out you come here and realize I know who you are? It’s just too dangerous, kitty. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh,” Chat practically whispered. He looked down as he thought about her words. She was right, of course. Like always. With a quiet sigh, he nodded his head and extended his baton. “You’re right, I’m sorry for bothering you, then.”

Her eyes immediately widened before she reached out to hold onto his wrist tightly. “No, Chaton! You didn’t bother me at all! I’m flattered that you even thought of me to know! I-I just... there’s a really big reason why I can’t know.”

All of a sudden, everything clicked. Why she had panicked. Why she looked so worried now. Marinette was right, there was a big reason she couldn’t know his identity. She was the civilian Ladybug told. Of course, it was her. Marinette was probably the most trustworthy citizen in Paris.

Chat’s bad mood immediately disappeared as a small smirk twitched on his lips. “I get it, purrincess. You really can’t know.”

She froze at that, looking up at him as she got paler. Clearing her throat, she tapped her index fingers together. “W-what do you mean?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’ll keep your little secret now that the cat’s out of the bag.” He reached forward, tapping her on the nose gently with a quick wink.

Marinette turned even paler as she choked. “W-what?! H-how did you figure it out?!”

“Your reaction kinda gave it away.” Chat shrugged with a rather goofy smile on his face.

“How are you taking this so well?!” she threw her arms in the air almost exasperatedly, “You know you’re not supposed to know I’m Ladybug.”

Now it was his turn to gasp in shock. His jaw fell open as his heart raced quickly in his chest. What in the world was she talking about?! Choking on his tongue, Chat swallowed the large lump in his throat. In a hoarse whisper, he asked, “W-what?”

Marinette immediately slapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Oh my god, you hadn’t figured it out. Did you?”

He slowly shook his head and she let out a quiet wail, tugging her pigtails once again. As she buried her head in her hands, Chat hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it once. “I-It’s okay... I-I won’t say anything. Cat’s honor.”

She sniffled, looking up at him with a quivering lip. “B-but... if you didn’t figure out my identity. What secret were you talking about?”

Chat gave her a crooked grin, trying to ignore the tingles that were racing up his arm. He was touching Ladybug’s bare shoulder. Ladybug and Marinette were the same person. It was taking all he had not to completely freak out and wrap her in a tight bear hug. Chuckling awkwardly, he glanced away from her big, bright, blue eyes. “I um, actually thought that you were the civilian Ladybug told.”

Marinette groaned, burying her head back in her hands. She then muttered to herself, “That makes so much sense. I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey!” he said rather offendedly. Lifting her chin up, he connected their gazes once again. “You are not an idiot! If anyone’s the idiot, it’s me! I just came to Ladybug’s house to reveal my secret identity!”

She giggled quietly, biting her lip to contain a small smile. Chat’s heart fluttered at seeing her happier and he decided then and there to make certain that Marinette was always smiling. Squeezing her shoulder again, he murmured, “So, is it alright if I reveal my secret identity now?”

“No!” she clenched her eyes shut tight, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s too dangerous that you already know who I am! I can’t know who you are!”

“But, purrincess,” he whined, feeling his shoulders sag with disappointment. This was supposed to be the moment he swept her off her feet. Sure, he was just her dorky classmate but maybe knowing they were always friends would help him.

“No buts, Chaton!” Marinette poked his chest pointedly. “There’s been enough identity reveals lately! We need to be more careful! Especially with Shadowmoth.”

Chat’s lips quirked almost bitterly before he nodded his head. “Alright, I get it purrincess.” Taking his baton, he extended it quickly and gave her one last wink. “I’m looking furward to the next akuma attack, m’lady.”

Not waiting for an answer, he took off into the night. It was much too tempting to be around her and not reveal his identity. Besides, he had already decided to spend as much time as possible with her as Adrien at school tomorrow. Even though he wasn’t tired, he couldn’t wait to go to bed and see her again.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Brat Taming — update sneak peek

“You are going to do amazing today.” Jake mumbled against your lips while his large and warm hands had slid up and down your hips, easing the last few tendrils of your anxiousness before you had entered the building and started your new promotional job Ari had given you.

“This is the alpha we’re going to be attempting to court, Jake. What if…what if I screw up and what if he…what if I can’t distinguish between my boss potential alpha?” Your hands, in return, had rest upon his shoulders to brace yourself and get the last few moments of comfort from your best friend and great love.

“You will be okay, baby bear.” Jake had removed one hand from your hip and rest it against your back, his steady eyes searching yours while you had stepped closer to him and briefly rest your cheek against his shoulder. “I know you will do amazing, you are smart and beautiful. You’re quick on your feet and you’re capable.”

“Jake…” You hummed and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment that would have seemed ambiguous to the untrained eye, but was wholly intimate.

“Trust me,” Jake had pulled away when a small group of men and women had departed the building and you were on the cusp of potentially being late, “you got this. You’re going to kick ass and Ari Levinson is going to be in awe.”

You had leaned forward and resting your head against Jake’s shoulders, like you had before, your soft laugh muffled against his graphic hoodie. His hands had continued their path up and down your hips, feeling the soft material of your plain black pencil skirt against his palms. It was a simple outfit you had chosen with a simple structure that was both comfortable and chic, though you imagined it was far less expensive than most other women who would work here.

“You have more confidence in me than I have in myself.” With Jake, it was easy to let those walls down and expose your personal struggles with confidence and bravado, it was far too easy to lean against him and whisper your worries before you started the first day of your new promotion to work under the big boss.

“You will be amazing.” Jake’s chest rumbled against your ear, his heart racing in time to meet yours as you kept yourself pressed against him, unable to let go. You were unable to pull yourself from your great love and head into the building to start your day, and yet you had to. “I’ll call you at lunch, maybe we’ll go out.”

You hummed in response and pulled yourself away then proceeded to smooth down your skirt with your palms, exhaling slowly as you did a soft, small spin. You were look for last minute approval of your chosen outfit from the simple black pencil skirt and black pumps, to the lace trimmer blouse you had tucked inside the waist. Your hair was pulled out of your face and held by a few hairpins, nothing spectacular or bold. You were well put together but your choices were not rooted in great wealth you knew others could afford.

“You’re going to take his breath away.” Jake beamed and gave you a dorky thumbs up, the motion earning another soft laugh and as you stepped back toward him to bid him goodbye, you stole a kiss and then turned on your heel to, finally, enter the building.

How do you think Ari is going to react upon seeing her on the first day? Should there already be a courting gift from Steve/Ransom? What would they get her? Should Ransom make a surprise appearance?