#thank you again for letting me bounce my ideas off of you <3 i'm very happy with this one 😊

[coquelicoq]

I thought you had disappeared but instead!! 🎉 congrats on the name change 🎉

omg you made art? for me???? this is so fuckin sweet how are you real!! i love it i love him 🥺 thank you my friend 🥺🥺

now taking guesses as to what crosslinguistic pun my new username is! because of this beautiful artwork you don't even really need to speak french to figure it out. i would say whoever gets it right gets a prize, but i'm not sure what it would be lol. so let's say if you get it right you may or may not get a prize. schrödinger's prize <3

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 3

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: character death, mentions of pregnancy, Mingyu acts dumb, reader goes through a whole lot of emotional turmoil, mentions of divorce, tears, profanities, major angst.

Word Count: 5.7k

@wongyuuu thanks a lot for brainstorming out this with me & happy birthday, love! 💕🎂

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Mingyu returns to an empty house. He waits for you for an hour, two hours and when the clock strikes midnight his mind clouds with concern. He fishes out his phone and ignoring the series of notifications that keeps on popping up, he calls you.

But with all his calls remaining unanswered, Mingyu surges in panic and calls Soonyoung who's extremely pissed and shows his discontentment through a dry, edgy reply.

"She left with Minghao."

That's the only line Mingyu hears before getting hung up. And Soonyoong does not pick up his call again.

And now he sits rooted to the couch, tapping feet in anxiety and worry with no idea about your whereabouts and who the hell is Minghao?

His thoughts bounce off the walls and he decides to take his car and drives off to find you aimlessly. He goes to your office only to be greeted by the security. He goes to the café you are regular at, knowing very well that it would be closed but he makes a round just for his sanity. He knocks on your apartment door but it's empty just like the house was.

Dejected he fishes out his phone to call your uncle when the notification of your name flashes on the screen.

'Meet me at home within fifteen minutes.'

There's no way he's gonna get home within the said timeframe but just as he rushes towards his car, his phone vibrates again.

'Half an hour. Don't run the red lights, don't run over people.'

Mingyu listens to your advice and thankfully he reaches you in one piece.

But he stands frozen as he sees you in the hallway carrying a duffle bag.

"Where were you?", no greetings, you ask checking your watch.

Mingyu knows you know and you know that he knows that you know.

"I had to leave with Sora."

"And who's she?"

Mingyu bites his tongue before answering, "My ex."

"What made you go somewhere with your ex rather than watch your wife getting felicitated?", your voice is calmer than usual and it scares your husband to the bones.

He stays silent. And you wait for him like you have all the time in the world.

"I can't tell you right now, Y/N. I'm sorry.", he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.

"Okay.", you say and Mingyu looks at you flabbergasted. Before he could speak, you add,"I'm going to stay at my uncle's."

Mingyu feels electrified, the sensation which burns his whole body, itches on his skin and scratches at the throat.

"I'm sorry, I know it is an unacceptable behaviour of me but please trust me. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.", Mingyu grabs your hands and blabbers, "You can stay with your uncle but please tell me when you are going to return, that you're going to return."

You pull back your hands from his grip, "I don't think I'll be returning anytime soon.", you say sternly, "I had something to share with you but this isn't the right time."

"Y/N--"

"Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you going to keep seeing her?"

Mingyu flares at this, "I'm not seeing her for fucks sake! I would never do something bad, I'm your husband."

You stare at him for a solid minute, "You didn't answer my question. Anyways, I'm disappointed. Keep yourself in my shoes and give it a thought."

"Let me drive you, it's late.", he offers.

"You don't have to worry about me, Minghao is already waiting with his car."

Mingyu twitches on hearing the name for the second time, "And who's that?"

"I can't tell you right now, Mingyu. I'm sorry.", you mimic his words from before and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you whisper shaking your head, "You can't even put yourself in my shoes..."

Mingyu watches you leave with a grim heart.

It's been a two weeks since you've been living with your uncle. And though you've left home in despair, Mingyu has somehow made it a mission to win back your trust.

But who's gonna tell him that you never doubted him, you were just mad, just like a teenage girl who can't keep her act straight in front of her love.

He calls you every night. For the first week you didn't pick up his calls but when your anger started to subside you entertained his calls but never spoke much, just listened to him telling how his day went. He asks every time if could visit you, getting a straight no as reply. He might be obedient but he's sneaky as hell because most of the times when you're getting off work you somehow see him engrossed with some conversation with Soonyoung at the parking.

What is he doing at your workplace almost everyday, when he could crash at Soonyoung's place. Why does Soonyoung have to call out your name every time when you're walking past them, roping you into some small talks.

Soonyoung is the imposter.

And why does everytime aa you are about to take leave after the conversation, Mingyu asks you the same question, "When are you returning?"

You never answer.

"You've gotta be kidding me!", Seokmin yelps. They all have gathered at Mingyu's place because everyone is stressed and wants to know what is actually happening.

"There are all sorts of rumours at the workplace. And I wanna punch everyone in the face.", Soonyoung says dejected, "Minghao and Y/N went to the same university so some are saying that they have dated during that time." he takes a chug from the can and continues, "And since Mingyu didn't show up at the event last time, it has sparked the speculations."

Mingyu sits head lowered, rubbing his hands all over the face.

"I'm sure Minghao likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.", Soonyoung puts it down.

"What about Y/N?", Mingyu asks his heart beating in his chest rapidly.

"What do you think dumbass?", Junhui glares at him.

"Woah, I'm offended now that you asked that question.", Hansol speaks in distaste.

"It's been a month without her.", Mingyu sighs, his lips curl down, eyes filled with concern, "I think everything was going back to normal, assuming by the way she responded, I felt like she'd be coming back anytime but she has gone radio silent suddenly. For the past two weeks she isn't responding to my calls or texts, she is even working from home."

"Yeah maybe Minhee can tell something", Junhui suggests, "But I doubt she'd spill anything if Y/N has told her not to."

The evening bleeds into night and the guys keep on chatting when suddenly Jeonghan who hasn't been much involved decides to speak.

"Now that Sora is back? What are you gonna do?"

The laughters die down and room falls silent with all the eyes on Mingyu.

"What's going on guys? Is there something we don't know?", Seokmin asks in fear.

Jeonghan leans back on the couch and looks at Mingyu, saying, "I think it's time, they should know. I'll go first, that day Mingyu left with Sora to meet me. Apparently, the guy Sora had left Gyu for turns out to be a douch. Won't go to the details but he kept blackmailing her, so desperate to save herself and afraid that I won't be meeting her if she went alone, she took him with her. I'm skipping the legal parts and that guy has been sort of taken care off. But that's not where it ends.", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The problem is that Sora wants him back now."

Gasps erupt through the room.

"Why did I see it coming though?", Seokmin says, "You have said no straight to her face right, Min?", he asks Mingyu.

The silence that follows horrifies every other one present in the room.

"Don't tell me...", Hansol trails off, eyeing his friend in utter disbelief.

"It's not what you're thinking.", Mingyu frowns, "I haven't said anything to Sora. But I have loved her for so long it's rolling back like a habit.", he hesitantly looks up and sees a bunch of disappointed faces, "But if it had been the previous me, I'd have gone to her in a snap but I'm changed now."

Mingyu gives a wry smile when looking at the relief washing over his friends.

"Here's the real deal begins. We have been married for over two years, in a few months we'd be hitting the three year mark. It's a long time right?", he sweeps his gaze across the large wedding frame of you both on the wall, "Instead of being a couple, I feel like living with a roommate. No feelings involved. She's stoic, nonchalant and even inconsiderate sometimes, even if I think that there's something between us, her actions act as bucket of cold water on those thoughts. I understand that not everyone is the same and I agree that Y/N has changed but somehow we're still at the starting point and it's starting to tire me out. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage--"

There's a sudden thud and all the necks turn in unison only to find you standing by the hallway and your bag on the ground.

Heartbreak is one thing but the humiliation is another form of descend you're currently facing. You return your home only to find your husband shit talking about how unhappy he is in this marriage to his friends.

And the biggest loss turns out to be how you're the only one who thought that it's a happy, perfect marriage. Your husband isn't wrong when he said that you're inconsiderate.

Tears prick at your eyes but aren't you stoic, nonchalant so why should the people infront of you get the leverage to see you vulnerable? They shouldn't, so you pick up your bag and walk past them going straight into the guest room.

There are continuous knocks on the door. Your phone keeps ringing but you pay mind to none. Your mind only reels the words of your husband from before.

The previous you would have stomped out of the house but now, you can't. The situation has changed, the circumstances are different and you are totally lost.

Because there's a life is growing inside you. The reason you decided to return home tonight but your second attempt at letting Mingyu know that he's gonna be a father cracks again. The first attempt was the night where Mingyu chose Sora over you. He doesn't want you, would he want to raise a child with you?

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten married, maybe you shouldn't have fallen in love with your husband and maybe she's better, the previous you who knew you're undesirable, who knew that people like you are unlovable, who very well knew how to maintain a boundary.

You have lost the track of time but you sure can hear voices from the other side of the door. You think attachment is something you can't effort, you are not people's people.

So that's how what Mingyu had said, you turned into his roommate. Since that day, you have settled in the guest room. You don't get out of your room unless it's an emergency. You leave for work early and return home at late hours.

You haven't spoken to Mingyu since that day. You've rejected all his advances of striking a conversation. But you're thankful to him for making you food everyday because you can't eat anything else, it makes you nauseous.

"Hey, are you okay?", Minghao asks worried as he takes a sit beside you at the cafeteria of the office, "You have been throwing a lot."

You nod your head, avoiding his gaze, "I'm fine."

Minghao doesn't buy your words but you both settle in the comfortable silence and until he gasps.

You cock brows looking at him.

"Are you pregnant?", he gasps, "Oh my god."

You freeze and slap your hand over his mouth and proceed to tell him everything that has been happening.

"So Mingyu doesn't know yet. And he's being a jerk ever since his ex-girlfriend returned.", Minghao says in anger. He sweeps a gaze across your face and his eyes soften, "You love him, don't you?"

You avoid his gaze again, you don't answer him.

A sad smile graces on his lips as he reminiscences the past. How he had practically clinched himself in your life. How he had fallen in love with you but knew that you wouldn't reciprocate, the reason why he disappeared abruptly from your life years ago. The apologies are always on the tip of his tongue for leaving you alone, for creating the safe place but also leaving it void.

"You know you shouldn't be taking stress. I know it's not easy but I'd suggest for you both to sort things out, atleast for the baby.", he says patting your back in a comforting manner, "If Mingyu does anything to hurt you again, tell me I'll beat him for you."

"Thanks Hao.", you say smiling.

"Also let me know if Soonyoung bothers you. I'll handle him as well."

You shake your head laughing, "He insufferable Hao, you'll give up."

"We'll see that.", he smiles softly, "But do plan on telling him. Uncle also needs to know, he'd be so happy."

"I want the baby's father to know first. Then I'll tell everyone.", you assure him.

Mingyu knows he went overboard. He knows he was being an absolute asshole when he uttered those baseless words in your favour.

Maybe he should never have compared the type of relationship he had with Sora with the one he's having with you. It's a grave mistake and the lack of your presence is taking a toll on him. But he understands if you need space or even don't want to see his face. He's willing to give you all that but he plans to apologise to you and if you don't forgive him, he'd understand.

Work is hectic but the situation at home is feverish. He has been getting earfuls from all of his friends and family, specially Minhee. She has been giving him shit routinely.

His reverie breaks when he receives a text from you. Hurriedly opening the text, his eyes widen with a mixture of horror and anticipation.

'Come home as soon as possible. I have something to tell you.'

His mind could only hint at it being something ominous.

You pace around the entire house nervously.

"Mingyu, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be father."

You shake head at the selection of words.

"Congratulations! You're going to be a dad!"

Sounds too exciting for an unplanned pregnancy.

"You're pull out game was weak. Guess what I'm pregnant."

Too snappy, rejected.

"Kim Mingyu, you're pregnant, I will be-- wait what no-- I'm pregnant, we're expecting."

You sit down pulling your hair in frustration.

After another hundred million failed rehearsals you sort to say whatever your heart would feel like at the moment in his presence.

But where's Mingyu? You check the clock, it's past his work hours. Maybe he's running late for some reason. It's your third attempt to tell him about your pregnancy and you hope that you'd succeed this time.

Your phone rings and you would never have guessed that your world would come crashing down.

You stand with head your head bowed down the entire time at the funeral hall. The band wrapped around your arm acts as a constant reminder that you're the chief mourner. You don't raise your head, not ready the see the picture that's kept on the board.

The heart attack was so brutal that it claimed the life of your uncle without a chance of revival. When you were informed he was already gone.

No last words, no goodbyes. Now you're left with only his photo and memories. You walk into the room where his body is kept as you've made a special request to let you meet him before he's taken into the coffin.

He's almost unrecognisable as you sit beside the body. Gently caressing his head, you finally let the tears fall.

"You were so eager to meet everyone that you left me alone here.", you sob, "What do I do without you now?"

You caress his cheeks gently, "Whatever I have become it's because of you. Even though I was the reason they died, you took me in and raised me like our own."

"I have something to tell.", your hands place themselves back on his head, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a grandparent. Tell mom, dad and aunt that I have grown up. Tell Sejin that he's gonna be an uncle."

You spend some more last moments with your uncle before there's a knock on the door. You quickly wipe the tears and look up to see Mingyu standing at the threshold.

"It's time.", he says solemnly.

You nod and look back at your uncle saying, "Thank you for everything. Have a nice reunion with everyone up there. Forgive me if I have been a bad daughter. Goodbye comrade."

You don't like the pitiful look everyone throws at you. You hate it, it claws on your skin and you feel like throwing up. Running into the washroom, you sit down opening the lid to empty your stomach when you feel your hairs being pulled back in gentle grip.

It's Mingyu, you know even though even without seeing him. He doesn't care about entering a ladies washroom when he has to look for you.

"Here, drink some water.", he uncaps the bottle and offers it to you.

He's presence is somewhat comforting, he makes things bearable. Your uncle is laid beside the rest of your family and you request everyone to be left alone. It's night time when you leave the place only to see Mingyu waiting for you.

There's silence throughout the ride back to home, no words spoken when he makes you eat something he cooked when you were showering, unspoken words when you go back your room and he goes back to his.

You mourn for days and while you do so you take notice of a lot of things.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for that day. I didn't mean anything I said, I was just being an idiot.", Mingyu  says after barging into your room one night because he had enough. He decides he won't let you suffer alone anymore.

You nod your head, "It's okay.", your short and curt reply doesn't settle well with your husband.

"I know one apology isn't enough and I understand if you won't forgive me but please let me be there for you.", he pleads closing the gap and taking your hands within his. His eyes searches for your face and his brows crease when he finds you avoiding eye contact.

You pull back your hands out of his grip, "I can take care of myself, Mingyu."

Your call of name rings oddly in his ear. It's rare for you to call him by name, it's always husband when throwing banter or Gyu while being affectionate.

Affectionate? His mind reels in the moment. Aren't you unexpressive then how could his mind produce that word in your wake?

"I'm tired. Let's call it a night.", you say poised, "There's no need for an apology. Everyone has the right to voice out about anything they don't like."

Mingyu feel like he's not your husband rather an office colleague. Your tone is so formal and dry. Your words cut him like a dagger. He wonders if he has caused damaged beyond repair.

It's so fucked up that he wants to hold you sleep, say sweet nothings to calm your senses but he's afraid to ask you to come back to the master bedroom.

So he lets you bask in your own company. He'll interfere with your personal space for sure one day, hustle in forcefully if you don't let him, no matter how rude and irritating it is, he'll mend the broken bond.

His heart breaks when he notices that you don't look him in the eyes anymore. You always had a strong lively gaze, but they are now hollow. You don't call him when you're struggling to open the jar, you don't ask for him when you can't reach something kept on the top shelf.

His friends are all dejected at how you don't indulge them anymore, they're sad at how they don't get to see you nowadays.

Mingyu had attempted to gauze you out of the coop by inviting the guys to the apartment. But you had locked yourself in the room the whole time.

His parents lament on how he ruined something so beautiful, his sister cries at how you don't communicate with even her nowadays.

He's already going crazy and Sora's pestering him by showing up outside his workplace often or making thousands of phone calls almost everyday, makes him ponder upon how was he even in love with her at some point.

He regrets again, now that he can clearly see the difference. You are you, the actual indifference you're showing is now and it's driving him crazy.

He wants to fix this. He needs to fix both of you because he needs you.

You're in the middle of some paperwork when there's a knock on the cabin door.

Soonyoung enters and the look that you give him is sharp enough to scare him off.

"How have you been doing?"

"Breathing fine, alive."

He should have taken the clue and left but it's Soonyoung and he lives as if he has nine lives.

"We miss you, please stop ghosting us."

"I'm not ghosting anyone."

"Minhee is miserable."

The writing stops, your hand halts for a moment before continuing. Soonyoung knocks on the table demanding your attention on him.

You sigh, having no option but look at him.

"You can be mad at your husband but we didn't do anything, Y/N. I don't even know Mingyu, I'm your friend."

The corner of your lips threaten to curl up. Your heart twinges and you smile sadly, "It's better to be prepared ahead so that you all will get accustomized to it later. Attachments are always painful."

Soonyoung looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing.", you drew yourself back in the papers, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go over these documents before that."

Soonyoung maybe callous at times but somehow seeing you and hearing your words today makes him bothered.

Another weak passes and you are packing your bags the entire time little by little, unknown to Mingyu because your door is always locked. Your office room is almost empty except for the systems. When Mingyu's not at home, you roam in the bedroom, swaying in the memories you both made there. You lay on the bed, sniffing the pillows because they smell like him.

You crave his touch all the time and him being in your vision doesn't help at all when you could sense the longing in his eyes.

Mingyu doesn't know that you've stolen one of his shirts and a hoodie. He should never find out.

Your soul knows. It tells you that it’s time to distance yourself from those who no longer align with you mentally, emotionally or physically.

"I can't stay here.", you whisper to yourself as you continue to pack rest of the items.

"I'm cursed.", you frantically wipe your tears, "People related to me keep dying."

Your body shakes, eyes producing another batch of fresh tears, "No one should be associated with me. I need to cut everyone out of my life for their sake. Without me, they'd be safe."

You heave a breath, in an attempt to calm yourself, "Mingyu doesn't like me anyways. I'm just a burden. He'll be free once I leave, he can be with Sora.", you rub your chest as it stings, "He'll be happy and that is what I want."

Your gaze instinctively lands on your belly, hands gently rubbing circles, "I promise, even if we won't be together, me and your dad will try our best to raise you. I can't wait to meet you, to hold you."

Mingyu, on the other hand is set on winning you back. He knows you don't like anything extravagant, so he plans to surprise you out a romantic date at home. He's ready to go to the lengths to make you forgive him. He craves your presence, your touch, your shy smiles, the way you call him when you want something from him.

He wants to love you, wants to make love to you. He has been dreaming a lot about starting a family with you. He wants the little versions of you both running around the house. When his friends took the initiative to show him how he has changed and it's for better he knows that it's true. He wonders if all the frustrations were because his heart wasn't ready to seek out the real feelings.

But now he has figured it all out, he likes you, likes you a lot. So he wants this marriage to work out.

He hopes for you to like him back. So who's gonna tell him the truth?

Some free time at work and he's watching new recipes to cook for you. Before going to bed, he's open the phone gallery and goes over your pictures, the pictures which are candid, the ones in which you posed, the best where he's with you in them.

Would you like it, if he throws pebble at your window and serenades you at the middle of the night? Would it be a good idea if goes down on his knees because he hasn't done it before and know he wants to.

Mingyu is all giddy making up scenarios in his head. He wishes to watch them all happen successfully.

"Are you having mood swings?", Jeonghan asks him one day when everyone gathers at the former's home, "Or do you have dissociative identity disorder? You were regretting getting married to her some weeks back and now you're saying that you like her?"

Junhui is grumpy, he takes a look at Mingyu and smacks him hard on his head causing the later to scream out in pain.

"He claims he is the most closest to Y/N and he is grieving because she is not responding to his texts.", Seokmin clarifies and eyes Mingyu in disbelief, "Seriously dude, what's wrong with you? How can you mess up this bad?"

Before Mingyu could speak up, Hansol interjects, "How hard it is to sort out your feelings? How could you even utter such ridiculous things about her when you know how difficult it had been for her, the whole life. Now she even lost her uncle. Imagine listening to your husband yapping about how much he dislikes you when you think he is one you can lean on? And that too instead of voicing out your mind to her first, she heard you telling it to us."

Hansol is a calm man, he never loses his cool except for some situations and this being one of it.

"It's not only me and Jun. Everyone is upset.. I know I'm making it sound bigger, we know that she is your wife, first and our friend, second but we can see that even though she never shows it she cares a lot. I'll tell you no one has ever entertained me constantly to help me, not even you guys. She even suggested me tools that she thought might help me with the editing though she had to invest time on getting to that point. She gifted Jun a diffuser as the previous one was causing him throat irritation but he was too stubborn to discard a newly bought machine."

Seokmin adds up to Hansol, "Didn't she help you with the paperwork late at night even though you both work in an entirely different industry? I'm sorry but did Sora ever do that being in the same line of work? No right. If you would have noticed she has always tried to accomodate herself within us even when it was difficult, it was all new to her."

Mingyu sinks his face into the palm of his hands, as he says regretfully, "I made a huge mistake. I let my intrusive thoughts win and ended up hurting her."

"What if it's too late to fix things?", Soonyoung speaks, his vision dazed as your words from before keeps reeling in his mind, "You should resolve the matters before it's too late."

The following week is hectic for Mingyu. The clients are visiting and everyone has to stay late attending them. It's a whole damn hustle, draining the employees out. The week goes on and out with him spending most of the time in office when all he wants is to go home just to see your face.

It's the last day of the visit and Mingyu thanks the heavens. He's usually patient but now all he wants is to avail the comfort of his home.

It's around one at night but unlike other times the hallway is lit in dim lights flooding  into the dining. There's an eerie silence and something unpleasant awaits.

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at that night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. He almost misses your words. If not for your next words, he would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing its third anniversary. Do you really want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words. He knows its not because of something he had said that day.

A familiar set of papers lying on the table catches his attention. His gaze then turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce. Oh, you already have Jeonghan."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear his voice laced in frustration, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"You signed a contract with my uncle in exchange for marrying me.", you chuckle bitterly, "All you wanted was the stocks of the company uncle owned, a goddamn promotion, this house, everything else but me. I was never on the list. I was just a pawn. I don't know what my uncle saw in you to desperately marry me off to you. I hope all of this was worth it. The stocks must have passed down to you smoothly as it can only be acquired by someone working in the company. You can keep this house, keep everything."

"Y/N--"

"I don't wanna hear anything. I was waiting for you to come back so that I could make you aware that you're busted. I'll to go bed."

Mingyu reaches out for you again but you lay out a hand, "Please, I'm tired."

"O-Okay.", Mingyu backs down noticing the resignation in your demeanor, "But we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

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[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

SUMMARY : In which you let your husband take your virginity on your wedding night.

PAIRINGS: Dilf Taehyung x virgin reader

WORD COUNT :2K

SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex (off course) ,cum eating, oral f. Eating out over panties, fingering, squirting, mention of blood (her cherry popped)! Titty sucking, aftercare ladies <3

A/N: A little something as I’ve reached 1k heheh thank you so much lovelies and i hope you liked this one and thank you my love 💖 @jj-one who helped me with this one and also @kingofbodyrolls who made this sexy banner💖

The beach was filled with fragrant blooms, an array of white and pink tulips adorned the set up, a gentle breeze softly tickles the groom's hair and he smiles looking at you walking hand in hand with your father holding a small bouquet of lilies.

Your wedding veil cascades down your back, complementing the silk lace and pearls embroiled on the dress, making you feel like a fairy princess. Nervously walking down the aisle with your father you blush the moment you see your husband, soft music and doting cheers follows in the background the moment you took each step.

Soon reaching upon you face the love of your life Kim Taehyung, your dad places your hand on your husband’s and some tears brim his eyes, asking him to always protect you and keep you happy forever. He chuckling upon his request, promising to keep you happy for the rest of his life while kissing the back of your palm and whispers "you look so beautiful my love." You visibly chuckle and mutter him a small "thanks, you look handsome as well".

You never thought you would end up with your casual fling that you met from an app, remembering it was one of your friends who had signed you up on the app after you broke up with your toxic ex. On the other side, Taehyung's friend, Jungkook, had signed him up when divorced his wife, thinking it was a good idea to get out of the grief and have some fun.

Your interests he was afraid if he came clean about his son you would leave.

He was sure he had fallen in love with you over the past year from just chatting and calling each other daily. It made him feel like he was a young man again and not a 38-year-old man who had a kid who would depend on for a few more years.

Taehyung was also afraid of the 16-year-old age gap, thinking it was too soon for you to commit to a lifelong relationship which included a child.

He had enough of it when he finally decided to take you on a date and coming clean about it. He came fully prepared to tell you about his son and break this situation you were in, he liked (read: Loves) you, but he didn't want you to live with the pressure of living with a child as you were young, and you had so much to experience.

In the cozy coffee shop, soft jazz played in the background while you nervously fidget on the chair, summing up the courage to tell him that you had started liking him and can see a future together. The man in front of you gave a crooked smile, continuing to surf through the menu.

"What will you have Y/n?" Taehyung asks as he skims each and every item written on the menu, his leg bouncing under the table due to anxiety.

"I love you Taehyung," you say at the same time as he began talking, he goes blank, the menu dropping from his hands while you mentally facepalm at yourselves. "Fuck I shouldn't have dropped this bomb this early.”

"What?" Taehyung gasps and then visibly gulps, and you return a crooked smile back. "Yes tae, I love you I've been loving you for a while now.." you confess once again, and he shutters "We-ll y/n m-e too" he says as if he's exclaiming, and you smile wide.

"But wait y/n, before I properly confess I want to tell you something," Taehyung nervously adds, becoming restless. Observing his moments you grab his spare hand which rested on the table and tell him to calm down.

"Y/n, you know I’m divorced, right? But I'm sorry I have hidden something very big from you, I have a five-year-old son Yi-hyun" he says, and you gasp "Oh my god, tae why did you hide this for so long?" you question, he fiddles with his fingers and explains his insecurities and chances of you leaving him.

"No tae, I would never, in fact, I love children and I would really love to spend my whole life with you." You blush as those words come out and Taehyung giggles, "I'll be more than glad and feel honored to stay with you for the rest of my life."

Taehyung gazes into your eyes, his eyes full of love and promises, the gentle breeze makes the few whips of your flix fly, and he thinks you look so pretty, soon the calm breeze carries out your wedding vows and seals all the promises of this lifetime commitment.

Yi-hyun stands right in the middle of you and Taehyung's parents, an uproar of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere when you exchange your rings. Glancing at him, you give a flying kiss and he acts to catch it, your husband won't stop at looking you with heart eyes.

It was soon evening while you and your husband basked in the warmth of newly wed love, surrounded by all your supporting family and friends. He occasionally steals a few kisses from you when you both slow danced and enjoyed the dance until it was time to make your grand exit and walk hand in hand till you reached your car.Your parents insisted on keeping your son for a couple of days until you come back from the honeymoon.

"Yi- hyun, don't trouble your grandparents okay baby? Be a good boy for me and your mom okay?" Your husband tells your son and he nods , he kisses yours and his father's and climbs down from his grasp and tells you both a "goodbye".

"Let's go baby been waiting for this day ever since I met you, gonna fuck you hard," Taehyung says with lust-filled eyes, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He lays a few soft pecks, soliciting a gasp from you, letting out the smallest whimper of his name.

The ride to your house was short, your husband helped to get you out of the car and quickly thanked the driver, not even a minute later your back meets the door of your penthouse as your husband starts to devour your mouth with his, heavy kisses full of spit coats your lips.

You were taken aback for a few seconds until your mind processes his action, kissing your lover back with the same burning passion, you struggle a bit until you get the keys from the back pocket of Taehyung's pants.

"One Sec baby, let me just open this, and we can go inside," you say almost breathlessly in between kisses, turning around. Once inside, both you and his clothes join the ground soon. "I'll go slow baby okay? It's your first time, right? Gonna savour every last moment of this." Taehyung assures you, and you nod.

Never in your twenty-two years of living did you have sex with your boyfriend. Sex was a whole different thing you’ve yet to experience but you weren't a saint when it came to it either, the curious teen in you would look up porn and even tried masturbating before, but you just didn’t feel anything from it, you thought you were doing something wrong.

Taehyung helped you to get comfortable in the bed whilst he removes the last piece of his clothing, his boxers, while you had kept your panties on, feeling your cunt coating the plumpness of his lips with your slick. You moan at the movement as he hovers above you, "ready baby?" your husband sweetly asks, you nod and voice a simple "yes.”

Soft, gentle kisses are first felt on your neck and the light touch of his fingertips tickles your lower belly, coming dangerously close to your core. His nimble fingers nudge the bow on your lace panties, sucking in your breath when he slowly goes down to explore the rest of your body, sucking on your skin lightly as he trails his way down. Soon purple hues are decorated all over you.

Once he faces your core, his hot breath leaves you tingly inside, whimpering out his name as he slowly licks a wet strip of over the fabric of your panties and sucks on the ball of your clit, repeating his languid motion again and again, his eyes watching you above him. You’re left nothing short of a moaning mess, "fuck feels so good tae, just like that baby.." you express him how good he’s making you feel when he sucks and licks you over your panties, this new sensation was like no other.

Soon after a while he completely removes them off your body, groaning at the mess you made and his fingers rub over it so he could have some of you on his fingers. "Open baby" he affirms, you ecstatically take them in your mouth sucking off each finger one by one, he chuckles and bites back a moan. He thinks you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen.

"Gonna finger you baby, stay calm okay? I promise it's gonna soon feel okay." He assures and slowly inserts one of his fingers, you moan out loud as it feels different from what you felt while playing with yourself.

One finger soon turned into two and you felt something weird coming out, "Taehyung stop-stop, something's coming out," you breathlessly warn but he tells you to go on and doesn’t stop fingering you, only upping his pace. Liquid soon gushes out, "fuck baby, pretty girl" never failing to fluster you and make you blush, shying away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

His frame hovers above yours and tells you to rest properly, "Baby, is it okay?" He asks before continuing. His hard cock brushing over your soaked pussy lips, itching to be inside your warm cunt, his fingers part your lips while you involuntarily twitch, feeling weightless as his thumb rubs gentle circles along your sensitive clit. "Ready y/n? Look we don't have to do it tonight you can always back out baby" he says while you whimper at the loss. "N-no want it so bad I can take it" you eagerly said, leaning in to kiss his lips. "It might hurt at first, but then it's going to be okay, I promise my darling." With that, he slowly aligns himself with you and enters inside, causing you to both moan in unison.

Kissing your forehead to calm you down when he sees faint tears brimming your eyes, he pulls out just enough so he can spit in between you two to make the slide much easier. He notices some blood as you were still a virgin— up until now, beads of sweat drip from the sides of him and some of it lands onto your boobs. He attached his lips to suckle them, seeing your pretty mouth open wide and decides to slip his finger in, your body rises a bit when he tells you to see the bloody mess and you whimper while he pets your head with his other hand.

"Calm down baby you’re gripping me so hard.." he groans from the way you’re sucking him up and you try your best to relax your muscles and try to enjoy this feeling while occasionally kissing him, moaning at his touches. He rests his forehead on top of yours and soon he cums inside, gasping from his overwhelming orgasm, he slowly pushes himself up and removes his now softened cock. You feel the cum dripping down to your ass. “Wait up baby, I'm gonna get something to clean you up.” He smiles dotingly and you nod back at him.

Soon he cleans you both up and brings you a glass of water to drink, he’s cuddling with you as his fingers lace with yours. Soft kisses resound the room until you both knock down in each other's embrace.

You decide to wake him up with a good, morning blow job but who knew it would be him to be waking you up instead.

[puppym3]

want a dom han one? I got you unnie!! Han is my bias wrecker and believe me I have MANY ideas. So my idea was: "Han saw you walking with your ex on street going to a club in a sexy outfit and he got jealous so he got dom" I hope it's good enough thank you for accepting my last request and if you want to put me in the tag list I don't have a problem :)) thank you unnieee I love youu <333

───

➤ han jisung x reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, jealousy, public sex, unprotected piv, fingers (f. rec), pull-out game crazy, risky sex in random alley, ig they're in love now?, (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: THANK YOU @jiyeonslays FOR THE SUGGESTION, i love you so much, i hope i wrote it nicely <3 i hope you're having a nice day or night where you are, I've been getting tons of han and hyunjin suggestions and it makes me so happy!

love you guys, stay sexy! if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!

───

You’d barely noticed the crisp night air as you walked down the bustling street, arm-in-arm with your ex. Your outfit clung to your curves, a daring choice for a night out at the club. The city lights bounced off the sequins of your dress, casting a mesmerizing shimmer that caught the eyes of passersby.

Your ex's hand rested possessively on your lower back, and the occasional flirtatious comment and laugh between you made it clear that the evening was meant to rekindle old flames. You were having a decent time, but your mind was far from at ease.

There were so many other things you'd rather be doing.

Your phone was filled with text messages from your friend, who had been nosy about the whole thing, she was the one who set you up for this entire date anyway. She did that because she liked your friend, and wanted you to get out of the picture for her.

The two of you were walking to a popular club in the heart of the city, the line for the entrance was already wrapped around the building.

"Do you wanna stand in line or should we just go back to my place?" Your ex's tone was low and suggestive, and you knew what he wanted.

You sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to like your response, "I'm sorry, but I just want to get a drink and have a good time."

Your ex rolled his eyes, "We can always do that. Just come back with me, please."

His tone was desperate, and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd made a mistake by agreeing to see him again.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your wrist,

"I thought I told you to stay away from her." It was the voice of someone who was trying very hard to remain calm, but the rage was there. You turned around, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Han..."

"Who the hell is this?" Your ex said, not pleased with this interruption.

You felt embarrassed, especially because it was in front of a whole crowd, "This is Han, my friend."

Your ex scoffed, "Friend? That's what they call it nowadays?"

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Han was practically fuming. You felt his grip tighten as he snaked his arm around you to protectively lay around your waist as if he was afraid to let go.

Your ex’s eyes narrowed, clearly offended by Han's overt display of possessiveness. The crowd around the club seemed to sense the tension, some looking over with curiosity while others tried to ignore the scene.

Han’s gaze remained fixed on your ex, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “I’ve told you before—stay away from her.”

You could see your ex bristling, clearly not liking the turn of events. His voice came out low and threatening, his hands clenched into fists.

"What the hell are you even doing here? Did you follow us?"

Han ignored him and instead turned to look at you. You felt your heart leap into your throat as you looked into his dark brown eyes. You saw a fire burning behind them, an intensity that you had never seen before. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was electric, sending sparks throughout your body. You felt your knees grow weak, and your breath quickened. Han pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a moment. He then turned back to your ex, his eyes darkening as he spoke,

"Leave."

Your ex was stunned, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

Han stood there, his jaw clenched and his arms crossed. He was not backing down.

Your ex let out a shaky breath and turned away, muttering a curse under his breath as he left.

Han's eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Then he grabbed your wrist and led you to a secluded area, where he pinned you against the wall.

You gasped as you felt his body pressed against yours, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"What- What's wrong?" You stammered, trying to regain your composure.

Han's grip tightened, and you winced slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing him again?" His voice was low and dangerous, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You were taken aback by his question, your cheeks flushing as you tried to find the words to explain yourself.

"I... It wasn't... it wasn't set up by me."

Han's brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. He wasn't convinced.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were hanging out with him? How do I know you didn't plan on going home with him tonight?"

You shook your head, your eyes wide as you tried to make him understand.

"No! No, it wasn't like that, I swear!"

Han's lips were pressed together in a thin line, his expression unreadable.

"Then what was it like?"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were struggling to breathe.

"I was trying to get over you."

You felt his body tense against yours, and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Get over me?"

You nodded, your eyes beginning to sting.

"I like you, Han. But it wouldn't be right for me, because someone else likes you."

Han's eyebrows knitted together, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Is this about your friend?"

"Yeah, she wants you and she thought maybe if I was out of the picture, she could step in."

Han sighed, his expression softening as he took a step toward you.

"I don't want her."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, and you held your breath, unsure of what to say.

Han’s confession hung in the air between you, a tender vulnerability in his eyes. His hand gently brushed your cheek, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I don’t want her,” he repeated, his voice steady but filled with a deep sincerity. “I want you.”

His words sent a thrill through your body, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in closer, your lips seeking his. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close. His kiss was gentle at first, but quickly became more passionate. You felt his tongue brush against yours, and a moan escaped your lips.

He pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his touch on your skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream or if it was real.

He broke the kiss and stared into your eyes. "Seeing you with that asshole drove me crazy."

You were still dazed, your breathing heavy. You struggled to find the words to respond, but Han continued.

"I wanted to break his fingers, just for touching you."

You gasped as Han's hand drifted up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up.

"You're mine."

You nodded, your lips parting as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving between your legs. You gasped, feeling his fingers teasing you, slipping under your panties.

He broke the kiss and pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes.

"Say it."

You swallowed, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your breath catching as he slid a finger inside you.

"Good girl."

He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moan. You felt his tongue dance across yours as his fingers worked their magic.

You couldn't help but tremble, the cold night air, the feeling him slowly pumping in and out of you, his thumb brushing over your clit. It was all too much.

"You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You let out a small whimper, his words sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

He removed his hand, and you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. You opened your eyes, gazing up at him.

"H-Here?" You said, your eyes widened in panic.

He chuckled softly, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you up.

"You think I'm going to wait any longer than I have to?"

He carried you over to a random ledge in the alleyway, the metal surface cool against your heated skin. He lowered you down onto it, the metal creaking beneath your weight.

He reached up, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it back. You gasped, exposing your neck to him. He bent down, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your throat, trailing down to the swell of your breasts.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of your body.

You shivered, feeling the cold air against your exposed flesh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the need for him growing more and more urgent.

"Please," you breathed, unable to wait any longer.

He grinned, his hand sliding between your legs, stroking the sensitive flesh. You shuddered, feeling the heat of his palm against your slick folds.

"What do you want, baby?" He whispered, his fingers tracing light circles on your clit.

You moaned, unable to form a coherent response, your mind clouded by the pleasure his touch was bringing you.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, slipping a finger inside you. You gasped, feeling him thrusting into you, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Please," you moaned, arching your back, pressing your breasts against his chest.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his hand moving faster, his thumb circling your clit.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pleasured you. Your body trembled, the sensation overwhelming. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

"I need you," you whimpered, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He groaned, his other hand grasping the back of your neck, his lips devouring yours.

"You'll get me, baby."

You shuddered, feeling him pull his finger out of you.

He grabbed the base of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue sliding past your lips. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your slick folds.

You gasped as he thrust inside you, stretching you open, filling you completely.

You moaned, feeling him slide out, only to thrust back in, deeper than before.

You clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he rocked his hips, his pace growing faster and harder.

"God, you feel so good," he moaned, his voice strained.

You cried out, feeling him slamming into you, the pressure building within you.

"Don't stop," you pleaded, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling it back as his hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you.

You cried out, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach rising.

"I can't," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

You whimpered, the pressure building, threatening to burst.

He grunted, his grip tightening on your hair.

"Cum for me, baby."

You cried out, your body shuddering as you came, your climax washing over you.

He moaned, his hips bucking, pulling out before his cock twitched as he spilled his seed on your thigh.

You collapsed against the cold metal below you, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded, a smile on your lips.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, your voice shaky.

He kissed you again, his lips lingering against yours.

"But, we are... kind of in a public space."

Han blinked, looking around the alleyway, "We are, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh."

He chuckled, helping you off the ledge.

"That was a bit spontaneous of us."

You giggled, pulling him into another kiss.

"It was," you agreed, smiling up at him. "Let's hope there's no cameras here."

Han glanced up, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

The two of you dressed quickly, adjusting your clothes and making sure there was no evidence of your little tryst.

He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

"Where to now?"

You thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, I did want to go dancing."

───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[decolonize-the-everything]

(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 12.1k

chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry

a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."

Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.

You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.

"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.

"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."

"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"

The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.

What the fu—

"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.

Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"

"You as well, yes."

Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—

“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”

The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”

“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”

“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”

“That was one time!”

“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”

The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.

“I'm kidding! Kidding!”

“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.

“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.

“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”

“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.

“Tae, what are you—“

“Come with me.”

You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.

“What?”

He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.

“Come to the wedding with me.”

The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.

“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”

You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”

“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”

You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.

And of course, because it’s him, you cave.

“Okay.”

He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.

“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”

It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”

“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”

He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.

“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”

He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”

You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?

But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”

She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”

Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.

He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.

“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.

“Was that the last of it?”

“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”

“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”

He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.

My love only amounts to this.

The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”

You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?

“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”

His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.

“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”

“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”

You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.

My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.

Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.

Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.

“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.

Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”

“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.

Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.

While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.

Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”

He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”

“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.

A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.

You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.

“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”

But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”

Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”

“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”

She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”

Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.

“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”

Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”

Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”

His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.

Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.

“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.

You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”

She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.

“Jungkook!”

He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”

“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”

“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”

“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”

A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.

Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”

“No, but don’t try telling him that.”

He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”

“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”

A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”

You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”

“Deal.”

You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.

When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.

“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”

He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.

“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.

You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?

The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.

“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”

“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”

Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”

You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.

The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.

The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.

“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”

“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.

Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”

“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”

You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.

A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.

“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”

His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”

Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.

Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.

The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.

Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.

Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.

Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.

But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.

Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.

You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.

Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.

“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”

“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”

Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”

“Dangerously handsome.”

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”

Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.

Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”

“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.

Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”

He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”

“But—“

“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.

Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”

“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.

“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.

A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”

Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.

“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”

The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.

"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.

"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."

"This isn't even dinner?!"

Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.

“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”

“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”

“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.

“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”

“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.

A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.

She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.

This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.

You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.

Just like it’s always been.

Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—

"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."

You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.

"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.

The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?

Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.

He said he doesn't have feelings for you.

…But do you have feelings for him?

Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.

And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.

That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."

"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.

"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."

Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"

When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.

"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."

You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.

Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.

At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.

But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.

The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.

Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.

So it really must have been all in your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.

“Mind if I sit?”

You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.

It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.

“I’m really pathetic, huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.

“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”

“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.

"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."

"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."

"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."

"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."

Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.

"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"

"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."

You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.

"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"

Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.

"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."

You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."

"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.

You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."

You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.

"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.

The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.

It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.

You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.

“What was the last thing you cried about?”

“One thing you don’t like about me?”

“Favorite position?”

“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”

“What’s your greatest fear?”

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.

"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."

He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.

"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."

"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."

You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.

“Do you want kids one day?”

The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”

“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”

Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.

A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”

“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”

He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”

You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”

Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”

And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.

The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.

“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”

There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.

“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.

“I did?”

A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”

You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”

“Maybe we’ll see someday.”

“I hope we will.”

Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”

“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”

Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”

Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”

“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”

“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”

You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”

A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.

“What happened with her?”

He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.

“So something did happen.”

“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”

You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“

“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.

His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.

“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“

“You were part of it, yes.”

In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.

It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.

“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.

“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”

You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.

But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?

“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.

He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.

It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.

You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.

Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.

“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”

You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.

“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”

“Keep me?”

“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”

The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.

“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.

But he pulls his hand away.

“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”

It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.

“Tae—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”

But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.

You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.

Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.

“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”

You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”

“No, really.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”

“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.

“I knew it.”

“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”

“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”

Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.

Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”

“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”

He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”

“You would’ve given them back.”

“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”

“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”

You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.

And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.

Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.

In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.

Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.

You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.

A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.

I love you.

Your heart throws itself off a cliff…

And you lean in to press your lips to his.

NEXT

a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊

[kiwi-on-ice]

Outfits (on you) preference headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Sombra, Kiriko and Junker Queen with fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, both sfw and nsfw variations, dom/sub dynamics present, filming, slight petplay

Notes: i love women <3 Wanted to write something small to say thank you all so much for 200 followers! I'm blown away, thank you all for giving me so much support on my filthy little hobby.

Ashe:

Anything she’s bought you.

Ashe herself likes to dress in a way that shows she’s in charge, that shows she’s the leader of a dangerous gang. So when she starts dating you, she’s able to dress you up in all the ways she can’t dress

You’re her pretty doll, to be dressed up and twirled for her enjoyment.

If you have a specific style, she’ll use her wealth to get you the best and most expensive items of clothing that match you.

However if you don’t? Well she’ll have to just do you up all pretty won’t she? She’ll get the finest dresses and skirts (some that perhaps are a little too short), as well as lavish and expensive jewellery that matches.

She’ll love to have you try on the clothes she buys you, giving her a twirl so she can observe from all angles.

Anything that shows your thighs she’ll love, getting to fondle them when you both sit together. It’s her little way of showing that you’re hers.

Nsfw:

So when she said she’ll buy you the prettiest and most expensive clothes, lingerie is 100% included in that.

She’ll always come back from her travels with a pretty box, inside being a lingerie set she thinks will just look perfect on you.

Any colour that takes her fancy, although she has a certain penchant for red. The way it matches her lipstick really riles her up, so her kiss marks will match the delicious lace. But also when you both are in public, and she knows you both are matching in…less that obvious ways.

Although the reason she keeps buying you more and more is due to her impatience; there’s been several beautiful sets she’s ruined by tearing them off or stretching them in the throes of passion.

Other than lingerie, it comes back to skirts again. Don’t be surprised if when you both are intimate, she may take your skirt off last. Or perhaps leave it on, have you bouncing on her strap while the cute little skirt ripples and moves.

Moira:

A simple woman, she likes the items of clothing you might not expect.

She’s a fan of when you wear comfy clothes, like an oversized shirt that’s too big for you, so it ends around your thighs. Bonus if it’s her shirt; and especially bonus if it clings to your thighs while being a little baggy in other areas.

Although she’s also a very big fan of nightgowns. The more ‘feminine’ the better, especially if they’re quite old fashioned.

She finds them exquisite and quite refined, loving the way you look in them. Especially if she comes home from the lab late, seeing you peacefully in bed wearing a nightgown. White would be her favourite colour of them, however a red one would certainly have her mind racing.

Additionally, if you wear her lab coat…especially in her lab? Her face is heating up a little.

Nsfw:

If you’re wearing a button up, she’ll make you take it off for her. She’s a fan of you ‘performing’ for her, putting on a show. So she’ll make you slowly undo each button, revealing yourself slowly for her hungry eyes.

She’s also a fan of skirts, although unlike Ashe, they’re coming off first. Especially while you’re bent over so she can spank you and watch the handprints form.

Moira is also a pretty wealthy woman now that she’s getting her funding from…less than legal sources, with most of her income just going back into her research. So she’ll most likely give you some money to get yourself ‘something pretty’, and let you loose in a lingerie store so you can get something to show her later that night.

Although her one dirty secret she’s never shared is that the idea of you in a maid dress is…tempting. She isn’t sure why this particular fantasy of hers is one she’s reluctant to tell you, but maybe she’ll let it slip one night while her fingers are deep inside of you.

Sombra:

Another woman who likes to buy you things.

She’ll hack into your wish lists to see what clothes you like, and then get them and act like she just guessed (after a while you catch on, but don’t tell her, it’s more fun for her this way).

Honestly I think she’d love to see you in purple, wants you both to match.

Although I think she would also love an alt girl, with fishnets, chains, dark tones, you name it.

Will insist on being the one to pull up your tights or stockings or long socks, thinks its intimate, and will most likely press a kiss to wherever the garment ends.

Loves loves LOVES to see you in jeans, thinks they make your legs and ass look delicious.

Especially if you attach a chain to it, she'll love tugging on it to bring you closer and give you a kiss.

Nsfw:

she'll definitely love you dressing up in outfits made especially for sex.

her particular favourites are maid dresses and Halloween costumes (think sexy cat and sexy devil)

Due to her predilection for filming you, the costumes just make you look more stunning for her eyes and the camera lens.

She'll love to project the footage of you onto the wall to tease you, making you watch your body writhe and shake at her touch while you wear an embarrassing outfit.

Other than costumes, lingerie works for her too. Her particular favourite colour is purple (obvs)

She also loves lace bodysuits on you, adores the feeling of them under her fingertips as she runs her fingers up and down your waist.

Kiriko:

She loves fashion, so she'll adore a s/o that loves it too!

Definitely the type to want to share clothes, but if you aren't the same size as her don't worry, she'll just get two sizes of all the clothes she buys.

Really loves a y2k/streetwear style on a girl, especially the cool jackets. The type to have pinterest moodboards of the types of fashion for both you and herself.

Would steal your jackets constantly and wear them, getting to feel like she's yours.

And 100% loves it if you match her energy and steal hers too, makes her feel all giddy when she sees you wearing her jacket in public.

Also would love a partner who wears a lot of rings, you'll find her fiddling with them when you hold her hand.

Nsfw:

any outfit that you wear that shows your bra, whether it be a see-through top or an of the shoulder one where the strap is exposed, gets her going.

Definitely would love to snap the bra strap against your skin to tease you, especially in public.

She adores roleplaying, so anything where you both get to wear costumes.

Whether you're dressed as a sexy nurse , or a police officer or even a sexy secretary, she'll love it.

Will try and keep most of your costumes on in those scenarios.

Also loves it when you wear jeans, so she can grind herself on your thigh and feel the denim.

Junker Queen:

She's a strong and fiery woman, with an equally strong and edgy fashion sense. So to her, she'll love it if you dressed...dainty.

Is interested in the dichotomy, seeing you in the prettiest and most pastel dresses and tops and skirts and cute thigh high socks while she sits on her throne in her black denim and metal armour.

Loves anything floral on you.

Also loves texture, hence why she loves lace. She'll enjoy anything that feels interesting to her touch as she runs her strong hands over you.

But nothing beats your bare skin in her eyes, so if you're wearing a dress, skirt or shorts, you better have nothing preventing her from feeling and squeezing your bare thigh.

In that regard, she'll also love you to wear something off the shoulder too, so she can see your collarbones.

Nsfw:

Listen she's a simple woman when it comes to her desire for you, so nothing beats you being naked.

You'd try to wear the cutest lingerie sets but it wouldn't matter, she'd have them ripped off in seconds.

Always would complain, if it were up to her you simply wouldn't wear anything under your clothes (or anything in general).

However, that all changes when she first sees a playboy bunny outfit.

Something about it ignites a fire in her, and immediately she's getting you one.

Seeing the silly bunny ears on your head, the tights, the bodysuit, she wants you so badly it hurts. The vision of you on your knees in front of her, looking up at her like her own little pet, her own little rabbit.

If you do wear it, you'll create a monster...so good luck.

[aeliuss]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

hey! thank you so much that means so much to me :(( this is my first ever request so i'm excited but also super nervous 👉👈I hope it came out okay!! here ya go <3

warnings!: angst, mentions of anxiety, blood, swearing, arguing, chris is kind of mean, reader gets run over by a car

word count: 2,311

you're bleeding.

you're sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen, knee bouncing absently, nails cutting into your cuticles, blood dripping down your thumb. there's a commotion outside. a loud one, and when you peeked through your window earlier, you saw two of your neighbors arguing loudly.

then you saw chan's car pull up through the window and you pulled the curtain shut abruptly. he should be coming in any minute now. and then you'll tell him what you know. what you know about him and what he'd been doing under the guise of "working."

you will. this time, you will.

when he steps through the door, he doesn't even look at you. just kicks off his shoes, and slides into his home slippers.

his evident fatigue almost softens your resolve. he's exhausted. maybe this could wait till the morning... you begin to think, before you shake yourself out of it. no. no this can't wait. not anymore.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. chan pauses, finally acknowledging your presence with a faint tilt of his head.

"hey," you start. pause. clear your throat again. "We need to talk."

he glances at you, looking mildly annoyed.. "can it wait? I'm beat."

"it can't." the words surge from your lips before you can chicken out and stop them.

he sighs, turning around to full face you, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "fine. what is it, then? what do you have to say that's so important that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

his demeaning tone is almost enough to get you to change your mind. but you don't.

"do you realize how late it is?"

"yes." his tone is curt.

"okay," you take a breath. count to three. "okay. so you do realize it."

"that's what I said," he says mockingly, sagging against the wall.

you straighten your back, determined not to let his dismissive attitude deter you. "and do you have any explanation for why you're four hours later than you said you would be?"

chan's eyes narrow, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features. "work ran late, okay? it happens."

"it happens," you repeat. "except it always seems to happen to you. only you. and not the other members."

"the other members aren't responsible for keeping deadlines, y/n." he says through hissed teeth, his back straightening with tension. "i'm leader. it falls on me. i thought you knew that."

you can feel the tension crackling in the air, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy between you. you know this conversation could change everything, but you're resolved to see it through.

"I know you're the leader, chan," you reply, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "but that doesn't mean you have to shoulder everything alone. we're a team, remember?" with your words, youre begging him to take the excuse youre practically throwing at him. but he doesn't. he just scoffs.

"except we're not a team," he says. "youre not with me in the studio, because you know nothing about it."

"chan, that's not fair," you retort, the frustration bubbling up within you. "just because I'm not physically there doesn't mean I'm not supporting you in every other way I can."

"supporting me? is that what you call it? sitting at home, waiting for me to come back at ungodly hours? that's not support, y/n, that's called being clingy."

you feel a sting at his words, but you push past it, refusing to let him deflect the conversation.

"I'm not being clingy, Chan. I'm concerned. Concerned about you and your well-being. This isn't just about work running late. It's about the pattern, the secrecy, the distance between us," you say, your voice steady but laced with emotion.

he latches onto one word. "secrecy? what're you talking about?"

the words lodge in your throat. you don't want to say them. you don't want to say them because if you do, the truth you have been trying so hard to deny will etch itself into the walls of your shared apartment. if you do, there will be no going back, no more pretending that you don't know.

the only sound between you is the sound of a siren outside. the sound of your neighbors arguing. his eyes are dark, intense. they don't waver from yours. waiting for you to speak. you don't think you can.

you speak.

"i know about her."

the fact that he doesn't even ask who makes you feel dizzy.

"she's just a producer," he says. "she works with us."

you shut your eyes, disgust coiling in your chest. "please don't insult me, chris."

chan's expression shifts from annoyance to something unreadable, his eyes darting away from yours for a fleeting moment before returning with a hard edge.

"what are you trying to say?" he asks, his voice quieter now, a dangerous calm settling over him.

her heart is beating so fast in her chest, she is almost sure it will leave a permanent indent. "i'm saying that i know that you asked her out a month before you met me. that you were in love with her for years and that she rejected you."

his fingers curl into fists, and he's gone slightly pale. "who told you?"

"god, chris, that's what you care about? who told me? it doesn't fucking matter who told me!"

his silence is deafening. the anger that had unfurled in your chest goes out as quickly as it had come. it is replaced by desperation. it disgusts you how much you love him, how much you are desperate for him to deny what you are insinuating, desperate for him to hold you and kiss away the tears that had made an appearance on your cheeks and tell you that you are wrong. but he doesn't. he doesn't.

you're still bleeding from picking at your thumb and his silence speaks volumes, filling the room with tension thicker than any words could. you watch as emotions flicker across his face like shadows dancing in the dim light of the kitchen. you want to take back everything you said, to erase the truth that now hangs heavy in the air between you.

but you can't. because you said it. and now it's out there, impossible to retrieve.

"what am i to you?" you finally ask, your voice barely a whisper. but he hears you. he always does. "what am i to you that you can stay all night alone in the studio with a girl you used to love for years and then come home and turn on me like i'm the one that's done something wrong?"

chan's eyes flicker with a myriad of emotions—anger, guilt, frustration. he opens his mouth, then closes it, as if grappling for the right words.

finally he says, "don't do this to me, y/n. not now."

a strangled sound leaves your lips before you can stop it. "to you? to you?"

"yes, to me." he hisses, running a hand through his hair, messing up the curls more than it already was. "you know we have a comeback soon. you know how stressed out i get--"

you interrupt him, unable to bear the weight of his excuses any longer. "don't you dare turn this around on me, bangchan."

he looks at you, eyes hard, but there's panic in them. panic and anguish. "don't call me that. you don't call me that."

"you kissed her!" you shriek suddenly.

he freezes. everything seems to freeze, your fingers and toes are numb. youre still bleeding.

the words hang in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. chan's expression tightens, jaw clenched, eyes darkening with a mix of anger and guilt. he takes a step back, as if physically recoiling from the accusation.

"i..." he starts, but the words catch in his throat. He struggles to find the right response, his mind racing with excuses and denials. but there's no denying the truth in your eyes, in the trembling of your voice. "yeah. i did."

there it is. the blow you've been waiting for all night.

tears threaten to spill over as you struggle to comprehend the magnitude of his confession. every moment you shared with him feels tainted, every word spoken now questioned. you thought you knew him, trusted him, loved him. but now, it feels like you're standing on the precipice of a vast unknown, unsure of where to go from here.

chan's gaze flickers, remorse etched into his features as he takes a hesitant step forward, reaching out a hand as if to console you. but you recoil, the pain too raw, too fresh to bear his touch.

"don't," you whisper, your voice barely above a broken sob. "don't touch me."

"y/n-"

"how could you do this to me?" your voice is broken, sailing of several octaves, shrill, because how could he? "how could you come home and lie to me every single fucking night--"

"y/n, please, just listen-"

"i'm so stupid. so fucking stupid. how could i believe you? all this time i was just a fucking rebound, chris. you never loved me, you--"

"y/n, that's not true. i-i made a mistake, i should have told you, spoken to you. i never should've let it get this far, i should've broken up with you before--"

"you said you loved me." you sob. "you said nothing could come between us, that you would marry me, you said that i was the girl of your dreams--"

"well i woke up!" he screams suddenly, chest heaving. you flinch, back hitting the wall. "i woke up, y/n!"

you stare. you're still crying. still bleeding.

"i woke up and realized i made a mistake," he continues. "i thought i could move on, that i could love you the same way i love her, but i can't. i can't, y/n. i can't and it's killing me." the pain in his voice, his eyes, is raw. "i know that that makes me a fucking cunt but i- i don't know...i'm sorry."

your heart shatters into a million jagged pieces at his words, the pain ripping through you like a violent storm. the truth hits you with a force you hadn't anticipated, leaving you gasping for breath amidst the wreckage of your shattered dreams.

for a moment, the world spins around you, and you struggle to find solid ground. how could everything unravel so swiftly? how could the love you believed in so fervently turn out to be nothing but a cruel illusion?

"i'm sorry," he repeats pathetically. "i do care about you, y/n, i swear--"

"stop," you whisper. "stop lying, chris. enough."

chan's shoulders slump, defeated, as if your words have drained him of all remaining strength. he takes a step back, hands falling limply to his sides.

"i understand if you hate me," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths.

hate him? the thought seems foreign, inconceivable, despite the searing pain that courses through every fiber of your being. how could you hate the person who once meant everything to you? the person whose name used to bring a smile to your lips, whose touch once ignited a fire within your soul?

"i'm leaving," you say and you hate the small, desperate, pathetic part of you that hopes he'll stop you. he doesn't.

"okay," he says.

you stumble towards the door, your vision blurred by tears, your heart aching with a pain you never imagined possible. each step feels like an eternity, each breath a struggle to hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to consume you.

as you reach for the doorknob, your hand trembling, you steal one last glance over your shoulder. chan stands there, his silhouette illuminated by the dim light of the kitchen, his gaze fixed on the floor as if unable to meet your eyes.

for a fleeting moment, you wonder if he'll say something, if he'll beg you to stay, to give him another chance. but the silence stretches on, unbroken, and you realize that there are no words left to say, no apologies that can mend the shattered pieces of your heart.

youre outside before you can even comprehend it. your neighbors are now arguing loudly with the police in the middle, trying to break them up. one of them is struggling to escape into their blue car. it looks violent. it looks like the least of your worries.

the chilly night air hits you like a physical force, causing you to shiver involuntarily as you step out onto the deserted street. the echo of your own footsteps feels like a solemn march, a dirge for the love you thought you had.

you don't know where you're going, only that you need to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of betrayal that hangs heavy in the air around you. your mind is a whirlwind of emotions, each thought a jagged edge that cuts deeper into your wounded heart.

then you hear a car door slam. a loud screech. a shout. your name.

then you are hit by a blue car.

the world spins and there is pain everywhere but you can only focus on the sun that is just now rising. on the red and gold. it's very pretty, you realize. it's very pretty and it might just be the last one you see.

__________

chan swears he loves you. swears it with his whole chest, swears it on the tears that run down his cheeks as he holds your hand, swears it on the sun that is only just rising. swears it until his voice becomes hoarse, raw with his declaration.

he wants to believe that you can hear him. but your laying on the pavement, laying there and bleeding like its the only thing your body knows how to do.

you bleed and bleed and bleed.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey friendo can I make a totally self indulgent request for Morpheus being soft and in love with pre-K teacher reader (I’m Going Through It and need some soft Morpheus) 🥺

"TEACHER! HE HAS MARKER IN HIS EYES!"

Dream of the Endless x Preschool Teacher!Reader

Summary: (... no, Tim, that's eyeliner.) In which Dream decides if it is inappropriate to come to you in his human form at work, then he will be will have to do so in another.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Kids lol, gender neutral!reader, touch deprived!dream, kitty meow meow dream (real), fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: BESTIEEEEE OMG YOURE HERE ASKING *ME* FOR SOEMTHING AISHFL:AHSFHASLFHASLFHA OMG LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dang i started to hate what i wrote (because of tim T_T HAHHAH jk) then thought to start over until my brain woke me up with an idea and now its 12am and im finishing this so i hope you like it baby <3 headcanon: the gif is dream waiting for you to finish with work in the playground nearby the school T_T RIP

Previously on: I'm Dating An Endless Being With No Concept of Personal Space or Boundaries

I let out a shriek when I enter my classroom and find a tall man standing there by my desk, just looking at the entrance, waiting for me.

"DREAM!" I quip under my breath, "are you crazy?! What you doing here?"

The pout on his lips intensifies upon hearing my words.

He was not expecting the reaction he merited. Usually, when he came to school, he was received with eager attention, even by people that he did not want attention from. He vividly recalls adults complimenting him to you and some children shouting things about him at you.

Dream knits his brows, "have I done something to upset you?"

I give him an incredulous look as I cringe at the sound of a child crying from outside. I push past him and get what I came here for the first place, a box of tissues.

I feel Dream watch me as I grab the carton and give him an annoyed expression, "you better not be back here when I return, Dream."

"I didn't mean to sound-" "You hate me." "I don't hate you! I was flustered I-" "You don't love me anymore" "Dream, baby, that's not true." "You'd rather be with those kids than me." "I was at work." "I would never send you away if I was working." "I know. But that's also because you're your own boss and-" "I just wanted to visit..." "I know! I know, and I'm sorry." "... I forgive you..." "Thank you." "... even though you hurt me..." "..." "... and love those kids more than me."

"TEACHER TEACHER!"

I take a moment before turning to the caller, just as the boy screams again, "TEACHERRRR!"

"What is it now, Tim?"

"THERE'S A CAT IN THE CLOSET!"

"A what?!"

I grab Tim before he can even think to touch whatever cat managed its way into our classroom. All the children crowd behind me upon hearing after. With the small child in my arm, and my leg fending off the rest of the kids from going any closer to the closet door.

"Ok, Tim, what exactly did you see in the closet."

"A black cat."

I narrow my eyes and hum, "are you sure it wasn't just a sweater."

Tim shakes head, "it," he meows exaggeratedly, "at me."

I release a huff, "alright, it seems we have a cat to save."

The kids fuss as I put Tim down, and he then bounces excitedly at my words with the rest of his classmates.

I place a finger to my lips as I look between my students, "we don't want to scare the kitty, now do we?"

Immediately, the kids start shushing each other.

I ask the kids to move as I slowly open the door, in case the kitty thinks to lunge or run away. Instead, I am met with wide eyes and a meow that leaves the kids squealing.

There is another chorus of shushes and I bend and slowly outstretch my hand out to the cat.

The sweet thing rubs its black face against me, then its black body, and all at once it's very clear to me.

"Dream?"

Hello, my love.

I slap my hand on my face and fall to my butt when I hear the mental reply.

"Teacher!" Heather calls in concern, "are you ok?"

I turn to her as Dream walks out the closet and nuzzles by my ankles.

"Did the bad kitty bite you?" a distance voice calls.

Dream does not take kindly to the accusation and looks at the direction of the child who spoke.

"No, my dear, Dream did not-"

"Who's dream?" I recognize Luca's soft voice.

"Is that the name of the cat?" one blurts.

"OHEMGEE TEACHER IS THAT YOUR CAT?!"

This sparks a heated debate amongst them.

"Children," I finally have the wits to speak, "settle down and go back to your seats," I get to my feet.

There is a public outcry, and instead, the children surround Dream as he retreats under one of the desks. They try to stroke at him, and I wait for him to react the way cats do when they're disgusted, but he does not.

"Children, please, don't touch the cat."

They obviously do not listen.

"Teacher, your kitty is very shy," Libby comes up to my side and grabs my hand, "my kitty is very naughty."

I smile at her and point, "that kitty is very naughty too."

The sound of Dream meowing (in protest) makes the entire class burst into a fit of giggles.

I huff as I bend back and beckon my naughty lover, "come here, pretty boy."

Dream does not waste time and dashes over to me, practically leaping into my arms. He purrs when he is against me, and nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck.

The class lets out a chorus of awws.

"TEACHER CAN I PET YOUR KITTY!"

"I WANT TO PET THE KITTY TOO"

"What's the cat's name again?"

"I don't remember."

"I WANT TO NAME THE CAT OREO!"

"GERALD!"

"Children, please," I interrupt for the nth time, "we have to bring the cat outside."

There is a public outcry.

The clamoring children cry out in protest and I eye the cat dirtily as he continues to snuggle against me. I release a huff and raise Dream in my hand, a la Lion King.

This surely stops the children. They look up at the dangling paws of Dream with wonder.

"Right," I say, "I reckon one cuddle each, then he's going out the window."

"I understand why you like being with those children now." "Again, I was doing my job." "Yes. A noble job, with many benefits." "..." "They were all surprisingly gentle." "..." "I am excited to see them ag-" "You do know if you cause another frenzy in my class again, I'm locking you up in a cage and sending you to a shelter." "..." "..." "... perhaps then instead of a cat, I-" "DREAM I SWEAR-"

[dr-docktor]

Ok I have an outline for a swap au/curt falls au

I've had this SaF au rotating in my head for a hot minute and I got some details down and I want to write it all down somewhere so here! Fair warning: it’s pretty underdeveloped but as I get suggestions and stuff I hope to develop it more:-)

Quick thanks to @randeeznuts for letting me yell at him about this in Discord <3

Its a Curt Falls au where, of course, Curt is the one to fall instead of Owen. It's still Curt's banana peel, however.

After the incident, Owen retires. Mourning the fact that he and Curt never got to run off together. Instead he picks up what little he has left of that fantasy and tries to pull it together.

A tiny cottage on a lake, a hairless cat named Penelope, a vegetable garden... You get the idea.

And all things considered, he could be doing so much worse. Penelope is spoiled rotten and the vegetable garden looks gorgeous no matter the time of year. Ignore the thousands of abandoned hobbies scattered across the coffee table and carpet. Ignore how he hasn't cut his hair since he chopped most of it off in some grief-driven rage 3 years ago. Ignore how his back porch reeks of cigarettes as his smoking habit has gotten so much worse. Ignore the fact that all he can think about some days is how efficient the little pronged rake in his hand is just as efficient at tearing up weeds as it is tearing through flesh.

Admittedly, I'm not 1000% sure how or why he decides to go back into the field for this one mission. My best guess is Cynthia finds his ass and is like "Hey bestie, I need a huge favor." I will expand on that later, I swear.

I imagine the main plot points of the show continue. You got Tatiana, the casino, etc. etc. etc. (once again I will expand on specific changes later) I also imagine most of the comedy with Owen comes from him being the sort of straight-man (haha) in most situations.

Being able to bounce off of whatever insane event is happening around him with utter seriousness and sarcasm. Because he just wants to get through this and get back to his cat. (the cat-sitter doesn't even know her favorite food! Much less her routine oh how will she live happily???).

He also never clarifies to anyone if Penelope is an animal or human so people are just consistently arguing about if he's talking about a child or a cat. Tatiana and DMA keep interrupting BVN's speech to debate this. Tatiana claims that its clearly a child, that Owen's eyebags and stubble indicate a stressed-out single father while DMA firmly thinks she is a cat for reasons he will not explain.

SPEAKING OF DMA :-) I think the guy needs no further introduction. There's still a lot of gaps in development, specifically centered on why Curt would ever join Chimera. I very firmly believe that they didn't torture Owen. But given how loyal and stubborn Curt is, I don't think they'd be exactly gentle while trying to persuade him. This might change later on, who knows.

Curt's version of the DMA is so interesting to me because I think he'd be a lot more reactive than the Owen DMA if that makes sense? Like very quick to explode with anger. Like he acts all smug while insisting Penelope is, in fact, a cat and not a human child. But as soon as he's asked why he thinks this, he fires back with a "Because I can just tell, okay?!?!??!" and then awkwardly trying to redirect the conversation.

I also think Curt's DMA accent would be along the lines of New Jersey or Boston. Mainly because it's an accent he can mimic SUPER well (thanks Ms Mega!). I've always had the headcanon that Curt is really good with languages and accents which sort of contributes to this.

In terms of physical appearance I don't imagine this DMA to look like Joe Walker. But I don't really have a solid grasp on what he does look like. However, I really like the idea of him wearing these black goggles on his head that he finally puts over his eyes during the torture tango.

Just imagine the light of electricity getting reflected in these bad boys during the torture tango. While Curt's got this massive grin that, in any other context, would come off as friendly and dorky (if not a little bit smug). Scary!

Also, because it's Curt, I imagine he fidgets a lot. Maybe in the background of scenes where he's not doing things he'd be practicing tricks with a butterfly knife or cracking his joints.

Ok back to plot stuff.

I like to think Owen figures out the identity of the DMA at some point shortly before the reveal. There's a clear moment where the clues click together (Like those jigsaw puzzles sitting abandoned on his coffee table). But Owen sort of shrugs it off just out of sheer denial. He knows its true, but it's not until the reveal where he's forced to confront it.

I know realistically this would end in only one of them walking out of the staircase scene alive (I couldn't even tell you which one). But my heart really wants for there to be a happy ending. Like most of this, I'll figure it out eventually.

[raycatzdraws]

Love your Wind as a humming bird comic. Any ideas for what the others would change into?? (I think Time as a kitten or something adorable would be funny)

Thank you! Wind as a hummingbird is such a wonderful idea and I have to thank and give credit to @/winkwonkblog for the prompt! I didn't really do Wind as a hummingbird justice when it came to like, drawing him well, but I had fun playing with the idea of it.

As for dark world forms! The fandom's done a great job exploring this and I really like a lot of (at least what I think are?) the more common takes! My preferences have been influenced by all the pieces of fanart, fic, and discussion I've seen - so many pieces that are tried, true, and tested! - so I don't have much to add! I like what the fandom's come up with and enjoy seeing new interpretations. It's a great big collaboration with a bunch of coexisting ideas and I love that.

These are going to be familiar lol (and I'll include some recs too, as one does!)

Time - I agree that Time being a cat or something cute and fuzzy would be funny because it would clash so much with how he's presented in the comic! Let him be something soft and unassuming so he can use it to his advantage for shenanigans! Like Legend though, I think he'd dislike being so fragile. He needs claws or something. To be honest, the hero of time being a golden wolf has never really felt right to me. I see general oot/mm Link as more of an an owl or fox. However, his characterization in LU makes it fit and I appreciate that. It's gotten me to come around to it some.

Twi - Wolfie, yeah

Wild - coyote or deer

Sky - Remlit, goose, or dove (Failure and Fortitude by sister_dear and this art by luwyv, and Untitled Goose Fic by theScrap_Witch)

Warriors - Wars as a weasel or ferret! Something with very nice and pretty fur and very sharp teeth. The thought of Legend holding him up and slinkying him around is amusing. (it's much-too-late'o'clock for me so I get to make up words)

Legend - Rabbit (read this if you haven't !!!-> Not half Pawd by SongMina, as well as Tiny Adventures by Lightning of Farosh)

Four - Hummingbird, mouse, or cat (All of @/chrispy-chimkin's LU Wing AU! Just look at Four!!! Look at him!!! &lt;3 &lt;;3 <3 See also Feline Fatale by Seeking7 and Usagisama68)

Wind - Seagull! (Again, Chris' wing au, but also @/layraket's creatures gang, and A Pear and a Portal by glowingjellyfishtreelights)

Hyrule - I'm not really sure! My joke answer is an okapi. Maybe a badger! idk! he's a dragonfly-winged fairy idk about an animal form for him. A coyote or gray fox, a brown-colored medium sized bird, something like that. Sorry I don't have the most inspired answers haha. I imagine Hyrule's Hyrule (in Zelda 1) as california chaparral so I think he'd be some kind of creature that lives there. I can tell you what kind of tree he'd be!!! Hyrule would be a ribbonwood tree (aka redshanks)! Ribbonwood bounces back quickly after wildfires, with the leaves sprouting again even after being all burned off. The bark that falls away from the tree comes off in strips or "ribbons" that are soft but scratchy and brittle when dried out. that give the tree a kind of whipsy appearance. It's wild and wiggly (I'm all out of adjectives at the moment) and very much a part of the landscape, a piece that ties it all together. The smooth bark underneath is a deep red and cool to the touch. The earthy red and vivid yellowing-green color is suiting. If you cup the leaves in your hands and breathe on them they release a soft rain-like smell. I'm just really passionate about Hyrule and this tree and ecosystem ahsfdhas do you see the low shrubs and parched dirt and the scrambling rocks and the mountains!!! the dry and hot and high altitude and dense shrubbery impassable to find hidden paths through! so much green no stranger to fire!!!!

[honeysuckletoast]

Sense my drawing tablet wouldn't work, I decided to write a quick fic on what I was going to sketch, thank you @nyxie-is-peculiar for the sketch (now fanfic) idea✨

Who in the world?" Esmerelda Avocet peeked outside her window, having been awoken by a racket in the garden. "Who's out there at this hour…Aoibhe wouldn't have gone diving this early…" she murmured, stifling a yawn. With a slow glance towards her clock, she mentally groaned as she read 3:22 AM. Esmerelda pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to curse whichever girl was outside at this hour. 

Esmerelda slowly sauntered down the dark hall, watching as the full moon dappled the floor as she checked each door. Each one was shut tight, not at all disturbed.

"Diana?" Esmerelda hissed into her room at the end of the hall. The tiny woman in the bed barely shifted, curled up like a cat in her thick quilt "Diana rose!" Esmerelda whispered, but gave up after a second failed attempt. 

"Well, good to know that if I scream for help I'm out of luck" the tall woman pushed her glasses up as she descended down the rickety steps to the main level of the academy. Only a single candle sat on the kitchen table, a few papers sprawled out along with an empty chair.

"What's the matter?" A cold flat voice whispered from behind Esmerelda, causing her to jump nearly a foot into the air as she flattened against the wall. A tiny girl stood staring at her blankly in front of the doorway to the main entrance. Her silver eyes traced over her headmistress as she tilted her head "you're never up this late." She said matter of factly. Esmerelda pursed her lips, letting out a sigh of minor relief. 

"Grace!" Esmerelda snapped once she regained her wits. "What did I tell you about sneaking up on others!?" The nightjar just blinked, rocking on her heels 

"I didn't sneak up on you. I asked you a question" 

"Just-nevermind." Miss Avocet didn't have the time nor will to argue with the 14 year old. Sometimes with Grace, it was simply better to give in than try to make her see the point. "Were you the one causing the racket in the garden?" 

"No. But I did hear it. Alma left the house at 2:38 AM and 16 seconds and hasn't returned. She was very pale and was crying." Grace turned towards the window as the Avocet stared at her, unsure if  grace was toying with her.

"You let a 8 and a half year old leave the academy alone!?" She clenched her fist, quickly loosing her patience. Grace nodded as she collected up her papers, avoiding Esmeralda's burning glare unknowingly.

"You have not given us rules on when to not leave the academy." Grace said as she scribbled in her journal "I finished all of your work you have given me for the week. I'll leave it on your desk." 

"I assumed the rule was implied!" The taller woman ran a hand through her hair. "Just- hold on. I have to go….do you even know where she went!? It didn't even occur to you to ask her where she was going!?" She demanded, nearly bouncing from the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Don't get so nervous. She told me she was going to the garden. She asked me not to follow nor get you, so I didn't." Grace leaned back in her seat, directing Esmerelda as if she was a child. Miss Avocet seethed, but turned around, rushing to the door. She would deal with Grace later.

"Alma!?" She yelled out into the night air. Her socks quickly stained a murky brown as she hurried across the west wing to the east garden. "Alma lefay Bentham!" She called again.

"What if she went into town!? What business would she even have there!?" The Avocet quickly found her mind unusually racing. "What if she gets taken, or falls off the rocks into the sea!?" Esmerelda wiped her quickly reddening face as she looked around the empty garden. 

"Okay, okay okay  okay…..she has to be here somewhere" she wiped her eyes "Oh my birds!" Her dark brown  eyes  scanned every place the little girl could be through tears. "Ive-ive never had a child leave…did she run away?" Esmerelda felt her breath leave her lungs as  she realized the girl was nowhere to be found in the midst of the flowers. 

"Alma!?" She shouted for more time,   being drowned out by the thunder in the distance. "The storm….she can't be out here in the rain she'll get soaked if she hasn't been kidnapped already-" Esmerelda's words hitch in throat as she felt two tiny arms wrap around her hips, along with a weak wail. 

"ALMA!" Esmerelda swiped the girl up, collapsing   down in the grass as she did. The tiny girl sobbed, hugging her headmistress as if she was her lost teddy bear. 

"What's wrong?!" Esmerelda held Alma under her chin, taking note of how feverishly hot the girl was. Alma burrowed into her embrace, hacking painfully into her sleeve. Miss Avocet quickly lifted her thin chiffon nightgown sleeve over the palm of her hand, using it to wip Alma's tear stained cheeks

"I don't feel well" Alma's raspy voice breathed in between heavy coughs. Esmerelda gently patted her back. 

"Why are you out here? Why didn't you come wake me!?" Her harsh tone stung Alma who sniffled in return

"I didn't want to make you- you get up so close to dawn! And I felt nauseous, and I didn't want to vomit on the my bedroom floor, so I came out here, and I tripped and fell on one of the plant stands, and I scraped my knees!" She wept between shaky shallow breaths against Esmerelda's shoulder "And  now you're awake anyway and I made you cry!" Her tiny fingers nearly turned white from how hard she was squeezing her headmistress's shoulders.

"Darling you didn't make me- '' Esmerelda paused as she felt her cheeks, wiping away some warm tears of her own. She hadn't realized she didn't get a chance to wipe them away before she found Alma. Her cheeks turned pink as she quickly dabbed her cheeks. She had never ever cried in front of one of her wards, or for that matter even Diana. It was one of her unspoken rules with herself. 

"Okay let's take a deep breath." Esmerelda didn't know if she was saying more to herself or to Alma at that moment."first off, I would never be mad if you woke me. Even if your not sick." She rubbed her back "you can wake me whenever you need." 

Alma nodded, "really?” She blinked “you won't be mad?” 

Esmerelda shook her head “I'm an incredibly light sleeper, so if I don't wake up when you open the door, just nudge my shoulder okay?” She instructed. Alma nodded, thinking for a moment. 

“Thank you miss" she sniffed. Esmerelda sat back up to get off the sturdy bench  "Let's go inside and get your knees cleaned, and then you need to lay down. I'll bring you some tea, and- 

"No!" Alma exclaimed, but shriveled back up "Im sorry for shouting miss….I just don't want him to see me cry! He will tell me I'm a baby!" Alma exclaimed 

"Who?" 

"Jack!" Alma murmured "he thinks I'm a big baby and this will prove it!" She shook her fists for emphasis. Esmerelda couldn't help but stifle a chuckle

"Love, you crying over being ill proves nothing. Truthfully," she leaned in "your more mature than both of your brothers. Jack screamed two days ago because he saw a centipede in the cellar that then fell from the ceiling onto him and startled him. It was so loud even Miss Bunting's cat swiped at him to tell him to shush up.

 Alma's nose crinkled and she couldn't help but giggle at the idea of jack jumping from a tiny little bug. 

"You must've gotten that sickness that's been going around town when we went down to get your dress hemmed a few days ago” Esmerelda Said as she stood up "Do you want to go sit in the garden and calm down for a moment then go inside?" She asked, eyeing the house to see if any candles had been lit in Diana's room.  Truth be told, she didn't want to go in with her most likely still tear stained face either if her partner was already awake. She was unsure how much time had passed, but Diana was going to be getting up at 4:00 AM, and the rain would be here at 4:06..

"Please?" Alma asked, laying her head on her headmistress's shoulder. Esmerelda nodded, gladly taking the sick girl to the garden. For once she found  herself thankful for picking such a warm day to set her loop as she took a seat on one of the wooden benches she had built herself when she opened the academy. 

Alma didn't move at all, too physically and mentally worn out to try and move off her shoulder

"We can only stay out here for a little bit though. Your fever feels awfully high. I'll see if we have any more syrup for your cough and maybe some Ginger tea if your still nasueous "The Avocet spoke more to herself as she  leaned back, making a mental checklist of things she watched as the dawn started to slowly break the horizon that was being overtaken by the morning storm clouds. 

"I don't want syrup!" Alma grumbled, but shut her dark green eyes before she could meet her mentors gaze. “It tastes like sour rotten cherries” 

"Just go to sleep for now then. We can decide later" Esmerelda said as she wrapped her knit robe around Alma. The tiny girl's eyelids fluttered, watching the clouds start to bring upon the mid morning rain she had become so accustomed to waking up to. She didn't even feel herself start to hum, but soon she found herself singing as softly as she could to the little girl in her arms. 

“You sing pretty miss” Alma mumbled “You should do it more often” Between the upcoming rain and the smooth singing Alma found it impossible to stay awake, finally falling into a deep sleep. 

Esmerelda smiled, finally finished her smooth lullaby as the first rain drops started to drip down onto the earth. The Avocet finally stood up, staring back at the house. Diana's candle was lit, burning brightly in the window. The Avocet smiled, taking it upon herself to hum just a little longer as she walked with Alma inside. 

“You will always be a baby Alma” Esmerelda told the sleeping girl as she walked. "My little baby." She put her hand on the door handle, pushing it open and regaining her strict demanor as soon as she stepped back inside

"Thought it was odd the door was cracked open." Miss Bunting turned around from the open flame in the kitchen "I got breakfast all set for you to start. I'll get started on setting the table- wait why is she in your arms?" She inquired "Was she outside?"

"She got sick in the garden." Esmerelda informed, then turned towards the stairs "I will be down in one minute to start the oatmeal"

"Poor thing" Miss Bunting opened the China cabinet. "Do you want me to get the oatmeal started? I'm sure it can be that hard!" Miss Bunting called as she grabbed some plates out of the cupboard.

Miss Avocet grimaced from where she stood on the stairs "No thank you, I would prefer to only have one sick child for the time being." She responded as she finished climbing the stairs

"That's fair."

[wandafiction]

Happy Tears - Just Us Chapter 10

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1616

Series List | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

================================

Y/n: I'm outside. Parked right outside.

Wanda: Coming down, just locking up.

I climb out of the car shutting my door behind me, this was my all time favourite car. I brought it in one of the worst conditions and have spent the past 3 years getting it to this point, it's one of the things I'm most proud of. I make my way to the passenger side, feet planted on the sidewalk as I gently lean against the side of the car, waiting for Wanda to leave the apartment complex: a small smile on my face at the thought of seeing her.

That smile grows as I see her bounce down the steps, a matching smile on her face as she comes down to join me at the car. Wanda leans against my front, pushing me into the car a little, for stability, and wraps her arms around my waist pulling herself closer to me -if that's even possible. I look down at her as she looks up at me, pulling back from me slightly, her hands resting on my chest now as she fiddles with the edge of my overcoat that's hanging over my shoulders. I see her eyes searching mine, then flick down to my lips, I move my hand to poke my lips showing her she can kiss me. So she does. She bounces on her tiptoes trying to match my height as best as she can, giving me a gentle peck on my lips. As she pulls back I pull her face back to mine, my hands on her cheeks, as I peck her lips a few more times causing her to giggle. Ah, that laugh is amazing! I would die happy if that's the last thing I would hear.

"Hi." She says keeping the atmosphere calm. 

"Hi." I match her tone. "Ready to go?"

"Mhmm. Nice car, I like the color." Wanda moves away from me as her hand travels across the bonnet of the car, following the frame of the car all the way to the back as she admires it. "What year is it? I would say around the late 1960s." 

Oh so she knows about cars, or at least this car. 

"Well your guess for this car was better than the guess for my age." She smacks me gently in retaliation. "But, you're right. 1967. Brought her from scrapes, built it up to what it is myself."

"You fixed it up yourself? Is there anything you can't do?"  Wanda playfully smiles, wiggling here eyebrows up and down a few times.

"I did indeed. And no, I'm just that good at everything." I give her a wink, a small blush growing on her face. "Now, where are we off to Miss Maximoff." 

"I don't know how I feel about you calling me, that it makes me feel like your older neighbour or some kind of teacher." I laugh at her reasoning as I open the passenger door holding her hand as she shuffles into her seat. "Thank you." 

"Of course." I make my way back around to the drivers side, clambering in as I set my phone up in the holder opening up waze. "So where am I driving us too?" 

"It's called the Second Asgard. Nice little café owned by some chaotic brothers…"

"Thor and Loki. I know of the place, they are family friends actually." She turns to me, a little shock evident on her face.

"And you said and I quote. I don't have friends. Liar." I laugh out loud as she pouts a little. 

"Aww, is that baby upset that I have the same friends as her?" I hear her scoff lightly getting another smack to the shoulder. "Oh the baby likes to hit." 

"Well I don't know. I just thought it would be nice to take you somewhere I love going, it's special to me." I now turn to her, grabbing her hand and giving the back of it a small kiss.

"Well I personally love that idea. So let's get going, it will be nice to see the brothers again. It has been way too long since I have seen them. So, princess, ready to get going."

"I am." She smiles brightly now over her little moment, which in all honesty was very cute and very childish.

I turn the car on, coming to life with the most beautiful sound a car can make. From the corner of my eye I see Wanda wiggle slightly in excitement as her hands reach to the dashboard feeling the vibrations of the car as I pull away. I really didn't think she was a car person, or maybe it's just this particular car. I don't know, but I'm smiling seeing her smiling.

"What are you smiling at?" Her voice is gentle as she pulls one of her legs underneath her bum so she can face me, her shoes on the floor making sure not to mess the seat up. 

"You." I answer easily.

"Why?" She tilts her head in question.

"You seem to like the car, you have this huge smile on your face to a point where your eyes almost close." As I change gear she rests her hand on top of mine putting her fingers in the gaps between mine and bending hers so the tips rest in my palm. 

"I really do. My Mama and Papa had one of these cars back in Sokovia. Nowhere near as nice as this, but it was still a beautiful car. I think I have pictures of it somewhere. But they had to sell it when we came to move over here, I was 15 at the time. We couldn't bring it with us and they needed all the money we could get so they sold it for a pretty penny." Her eyes become slightly glassy when retelling the story, so I bring our hands up from the gear shift and plant a kiss on her hands then place them on my thigh. 

"You okay princess?" I give her a quick look so she knows I am ready to listen before turning back to the road.

"Yeah, just a trip down memory lane. These are happy tears, don't worry. I just haven't thought back to the car in so long and we had so many memories around it, all good ones. It was just nice to think about." 

"I'm glad they're happy memories. Now are you ready for this café date, seeing as we are like 2 minutes away?" 

"So ready." 

Once I've parked and we are out 8f the car, I pull her into the café. The smell of coffee and pastry filling my nose almost immediately. I take in a deep breath breathing it all in, fond memories filling my mind as I do so. I'm broken from my trance by a loud booming voice. 

"Lady Maximoff!" I see her face light up as she hears the voice of her friend. His eyes travel to me and his jaw drops slightly.

"Hey Thor." I give him an awkward wave, before I can say anything else he bounds over to me and pulls me into a bone crushing hug, bending backwards slightly so he can lift me off the ground by an inch or so. Yes I'm a few inches taller than Thor, it's always good to see him try and act bigger than me.

"Lady St...Y/n...I've missed you a lot. It has been too long since our last meeting." He drops me gently, and I smooth out my clothes as I look back at Wanda who has an unreadable expression on her face. She snaps out of it when a second voice echoes down the stairs, followed closely by the owner of said voice. 

"Wanda, darling. Lovely to see you again." He gives her a small hug, planting a peck on her cheeks. "And I see you've brought a friend, a friend of ours they are too. Y/n lovely to see you dear. How are you doing? It has been too long?" 

"It has been too long indeed, Loki. My apologies for not visiting sooner, but you know how things can get when it comes to business." 

"Indeed I do."

"So Lady Y/n. How are you holding up nowadays?" I stiffen slightly, and watch as Loki stabs his brother in the side with his pointy elbow. "I mean after you lost that big client." 

I clear my throat slightly, shuffling with some unease but trying to hide it from them. "I'm doing well, thank you Thor. Now I will have a black coffee and for you Wanda?" 

"An iced coffee please. You know how I like it." Thor nods as he disappears to go and make out drinks, and I turn to look at Loki. 

A sad smile appears on his face, but I give him a look that immediately makes him smile. His eyes flicker from me to Wanda, a silent question on his lips. I subtly shake my head at him in answer. Loki gives me a nod in return.

"Sit wherever you like, I will come back with your drinks and then take your food order." Me and Wanda thank him as he turns to join his brother.

"What was that about?" Wanda asks, as she pulls me to a two seater table in front of the large windows, where you can watch the busy street.

"Nothing. Just been awhile since we have seen each other. A lot we need to catch up with." She hums in reply, her eyes not leaving my face. She smiles lightly before she speaks.

"Let's get this date underway."

================================

[aces-drew]

Hi! I just wanted to drop in and say that I adore your two Nace fics so much to the point that I have probably reread them about 20 millions and if you ever want to write for them again I would be more than WILLING (and to tell my soul) to supply you with a slew of ideas because I have plenty <3 your writing is absolutely BEAUTIFUL!!!

hi anon, you have no idea how often i think of your ask and how much i've come back to it since you've written to me. i hope you're still around and still somewhat part of the nd fandom, and that the series finale was something you could enjoy and be satisfied w! truth be told i fell out of the fandom at the end of the third season, it was for a lot of reasons - personal and just the time passing, and with it also came half-baked word docs of nace fics i started but never really got around to finishing. and i never wanted to answer your high compliments with the answer of never considering to write for them again, and in all honesty i forgot my written drabbles in a folder on my laptop for the better part of the last two years. but i went through it on a whim today and actually found something i think is worth sharing, and since your message has stayed with me, i'm going to post it for you and you only, as both a thank you and im sorry i couldnt really give you more. writing for nace was one of my greatest joys in a truthfully very difficult time in my life, and im so glad it was as special for you as it was for me! so here's almost 5k of nace being in their pre-relationship, best friends in tension phase dated to the 21st of dec 2021 - it's certainly not my best work and may seem a bit half-baked, but there is so much love in it, and its happy and sad and hopeful all at once, and reading it again with fresher eyes, it would've been a shame for it to rot in my gdrive with no audience, so yeah thank you for reading this my dear anon. i hope you like it, take care!!

***

Ace let out a soft mumble of a curse under his breath.

‘Florence, this is not the time girl.’

The exasperation in his tone was refreshing to Nancy. Rarely was Ace ever off-centre; he was always the one who held down the fort, who grounded everyone, and especially her, to whatever it was they were working through at any given time. So the fact that car trouble was what got Ace ticking made her chuckle.

And among other things, she had to admit how adorable it was – his brows creased in annoyance, hands resting on his steering wheel, fingers drumming on the small surface in agitation. (Nancy tried to force herself to look away when her mind started to focus on how long and sturdy his fingers were in comparison to the lining of the steering wheel, ignoring the unnatural hike in her pulse).

Nancy observes his leg start to bounce restlessly in its place, his growing frustration rivalling Nancy’s ease. He looks at her through the rear-view mirror, sparkly blue eyes that seem to brace for her remark knowingly, ‘You’re not allowed to say I told you so.’

Nancy playfully clicks her tongue, ‘I told you so.’

He groans in response, but there’s only levity in his tone. When she looks at him amidst her unhelpful giggle, for the briefest of seconds, she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips.

‘Okay I’ve got Earnie on speed-dial, he should be here in like 45 minutes.’

He looks at her readily, waiting for her to take a jab at the fact that he’s on a first-name basis with the Horseshoe Bay’s finest mechanic and tower of cars, but she chooses not to indulge him.

With a small smile, she pulls out a pack of skittles and crinkles it open, offering him a hand-full of carelessly assorted yellow skittles in ceasefire. He looks at her in mocking question, ‘You think giving me my favourite colour of skittles is going to convince me into giving you a pass on the next 45 minutes where you tease me about this incessantly?’

Nancy smiles the brightest smile she can manage, teeth barred like a girl scout selling her cookies door to door, ‘Yep.’

He concedes, nonchalantly shaking his head and turning over the skittles from her hand to his, ‘You know me too well.’

(Nancy ignores the way he touches the pulse point on her wrist when he transfers the candy onto his own hand, how his fingers ever-so gently wrap around her entire wrist, electrifying the skin under his touch).

They sit there chewing in comfortable silence - on the candy as well as their thoughts; it had been a long day. They were heading back from another dead-end lead on de-tangling George’s soul from Odette’s, and though it had been a long shot, the sting of failure extinguishing the little hope that had slipped through to everyone in the group at the beginning of the day was subtly unrelenting. Nancy tried to keep the fear at bay, closing her eyes to refocus away from the painful pulses lightly throbbing at her temple. She couldn’t even think about reliving George’s death again, but the image of her bloodied body on the floor of the Claw re-emerges without permission, and along with it comes bile up Nancy’s throat.

In an attempt for comfort, she reminds herself of what George had to said to them when they regrouped at their cars to drive back to Horseshoe Bay, ‘I’m a fighter guys, and I live every day with intention, I’m happy and in love and I have no regrets. We’ll figure this out.’

She recalls George’s soft smile at Nick, her smirk at Bess when Addy asks for the two of them to carpool back alone together, her hugs for Nancy and Ace – she reminds herself how good it feels to relish in the warmth of her best friend. Taking a few deep breaths, Nancy wills for it to make her feel a bit better.

A gentle tap on her shoulder gets her to open her eyes again, and before she can turn to face Ace in question, she finds herself enamoured by the starry night sky looking down on her through the upper windshield. She wonders how she hadn’t yet noticed the glimmering specks of silver tattered against a canvas of cloudless navy blue, both beautifully and terrifyingly spanning the expanse of her entire eyeline, nestled between tall, dark oaks and pine trees on either side of the road they were currently grounded to.

‘You have to stop worrying about her, we’ll solve this too, we always do.’

That snaps her focus right back onto Ace, and she realises that despite the fairly long drive in darkness, the reason her attention had been obscured from the remarkable night sky was because it had been elsewhere, particularly on a concerning distraction that had been sat next to her this whole time.

She studies him, not rushing her response. She registers the way his lips have come into a fine line in resolve, starkly different to the smile lines that had lifted the plane of his cheeks just a few minutes ago, how the flecks of grey within his clear, sky-blue eyes zap like lightning, reflecting the twinkle of the stars above him – confident, persevering, determined. Her chest expands at how his expression still emanates warmth, a still of comfort when her mind is too convoluted to function, to find the gravity below her. Looking at him, she doesn’t necessarily blame herself for not noticing the night sky.

‘I hate that you can read me.’

She finds the grin in his eyes before his lips, ‘You have to stop being so predictable.’

She mock-scoffs at him, ‘Says the guy who knew his car was going to break down but was too stubborn to back down from subjecting it to a long road trip anyways.’

He takes his turn feigning hurt, ‘Touché.’ He chuckles, ‘Nancy – 1, Ace – 0.’

She sobers up at his still subtly insistent stare, he doesn’t want her to drop the subject just yet but he doesn’t ask again; his delicate push gets her primed enough to voice her thoughts, ‘I can’t watch her die again.’

She hates how her voice fails her, vulnerability and fear lulling her to a whisper, as if she’s afraid the universe will hear her. Ace responds with a shaky breath, returning to her gaze with the truths she’s been trying to convince herself with, ‘We’re trying our best. We’ll get there, and we’ll find what she needs.’

His eyes don’t waver from hers, ‘We can’t live in how her death is something we can’t avoid just yet, you heard what she said Nance, she’s living her best life day after day, and we owe it to her to do the same.’

He says his words with such conviction that Nancy lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, (she tries not to melt at how his nickname for her drapes itself so softly on his tongue). ‘None of us will ever give up on her, on any of us.’

She lets out a small smile in understanding, a tear escaping to her cheek before she’s able to get a hold of her glossy eyes. For a spilt-second Nancy sees his fingers reach out for her, possibly to wipe the tear away, but he stops himself, and Nancy tries to ignore the way her stomach hollows out at his reluctance. Instead, he gives a genuine smile in return. 

Before the slight awkwardness can stew between the two of them, Ace speaks up softly, clearing his throat, ‘Alright, come on.’

He gestures to the trunk of the car as he gets out of the driver’s seat, and open’s the passenger door for her to follow him; she wordlessly steps out despite her confusion. The cold wind hits her skin immediately, passing through the soft sleeves of her sweater as if they weren’t even there. She hugs herself, tracing her hands up and down her upper arms to create some insulation.

Ace opens up the trunk and unzips a large duffel bag, pulling out three blankets and two cushion pillows. Taking the especially woolly chocolate and cream checkered throw, he swings it over Nancy’s back and gently swaddles her, ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ She responds, warmth immediately encapsulating her. Before she can ask why they’re outside his car in uncomfortably cold weather, he explains, ‘The stars are out tonight,’ he says looking up, ‘I thought we could kill some time while we wait for Earnie, and a distraction wouldn’t hurt the both of us. Two birds, one stone.’

Nancy follows his eye-line and stares at the sky, ‘Definitely.’

Within five minutes, he lays out the largest blanket he has onto the hood of Florence and sets down the two pillows for them. Forgetting the added weight of the throw, she grabs his hand to get onto the surface, and predictably, loses balance almost immediately, tripping to fall face first right onto Ace’s chest.

Before Nancy settles into how mortifying it is, Ace’s arms instinctually wrap around her waist and secure them in place, his chest reverberating the chuckle he adds to the night air.

Her shoulders loosen, and Ace looks down at her with a smirk, a glint of mischief within those blue eyes Nancy adores, ‘Comfortable?’

‘Shut up.’ Nancy groans, and Ace readily manoeuvres her waist to help her rest next to him, the two of them fully laughing now. (She ignores the way his fingers come into contact with some bare skin on her hips when it happens, a result of her sweater hiking and the blanket falling on top of the both of them when she fell; she tries not to focus on the imperceptible movement of his thumbs against her exposed skin).

As they recover from their laughing fit and Nancy settles more comfortably onto her cushion, shoulder to shoulder with Ace, they both find themselves looking up at the incredible vastness above them. Away from the other’s gaze, and suddenly incredibly aware of how small they were in this expanse of time and space, Nancy feels almost blindingly comfortable with Ace, willing to tell him anything if he asked.

Ace seems to get the same idea, ‘Okay, game time. I give you a story and you give me one in return, could be prompted by a question if either of us have something specific to ask, but otherwise it’s free rein.’

Nancy considers the proposition – she supposes it is dangerous territory, and that she would be tiptoeing between everything she wants to disclose and keep hidden, especially because she was already so comfortable leaving her heart at her sleeve with Ace, but ultimately the urge to get to know Ace better wins her over.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, slightly hesitant, ‘But you start, since you clearly have something in mind.’

She sees him nod in her periphery.

‘My mom used to take me star-gazing to help with my anxiety,’ Ace says, his eyes focused on the sky. ‘I couldn’t sleep after what happened with my dad, and there were a good few weeks where he was comatose in the hospital, and I couldn’t get that image of him out of my head every time I closed my eyes.’

‘I stayed up for like four days straight after the accident, hopped up on energy drinks and just gaming or coding night after night, getting by on twenty minute naps that would just happen because my body was so exhausted,’ he sighs, seemingly disappointed in his younger self, ‘It wasn’t long before my mom noticed the bags under my eyes and asked me to explain myself - I just broke down, told her how his limp body was all I could see if I let my mind rest for even a second. That’s when she invested in Florence, a seemingly temporary rental at the time,’ he chuckles fondly, ‘and every night my dad stayed in the hospital after that, she took me up to the bluffs so that we could see the stars as clear as they were in Maine.’

She imagines a young Ace, so scared of his father not coming home that he wills himself to become his own problem, shielding himself the only way he knows how, and finding himself unwilling to depend on anyone, even as a child. Even though the irony of how similar they are is not lost on her, it hollows out Nancy’s chest.

She can’t also help but find small comfort in the karmic coincidence that the bluffs were somehow similarly significant in both their lives – a place rooted in contentment equally as much as trauma. Nancy wonders why fate sometimes writes in intricately entwining strings so cruel when it comes to her.

‘She pointed out all the constellations, and eventually I learnt them too, and her explaining everything would send me to sleep. It was a lot easier to close my eyes to the stars instead of a dark ceiling, and she always said ‘It’s okay to be afraid, but when you are, just look up, and you’ll be reminded of how vast and complicated this universe is. And if you can believe in that, you can believe that things will work out for the best’. And that hope? That hope has weirdly never really left me, no matter what’s happened since then.’ He finishes.

Nancy can tell that his voice is thicker, and she doesn’t push to ask him why he thought she should know something so intrinsic about him. She breathes it in nevertheless, savouring a piece of his past that has been delicately placed in her hands, an olive branch for her to know him better.

She decides to take him up on it and share something that’s been kept in the dustiest shelves of her own heart, ‘That day the Aglaeca came to claim us, I actually fell off the bluffs.’

Nancy feels him turn his face to her in surprise, the only thing she’d told them was that she’d almost tripped over - she’d never considered talking about the truth till now; she pushes on, talking at the stars, ‘I kept screaming for help, but obviously nobody came. I was meant to die there, just like my mother, and for a second, before my survival instinct kicked in, I almost let go… almost wanted to let go,’ she feels her voice wobble, unable to carry the weight of her words, ‘I felt my own weight on my fingers, felt them give, and I was so tired, so I almost let go… instead of choosing to try and climb up.’

She had never admitted that to anybody, least of all herself, but it felt liberating to do so, to be overwhelmed in how enormous all her trauma seemed at the time, ‘I think it’s because I’d felt helpless for a long time, I didn’t know how to be somebody that other people couldn’t depend on, and I couldn’t get the conversation, or fight, we all had out of my head,’ she adds quickly, with a hollow, humourless chuckle, ‘but I did, I did climb up, and when I looked over at the sea, sitting there, all alone, I wasn’t necessarily glad that I had. I still felt empty, even when I knew we survived.’

Verbalising the last admission felt like a tonne of bricks on her shoulders, but it all came out in a few short breaths – like domino after domino falling in a way she couldn’t really stop once it started. She’d felt so small in the face of everything she’d been through, and even though she knew that life is always the right choice, and she’s convicted of that that definitively now more than any other time in her life, it wasn’t something that came intuitively to her that day. Her introspection is cut short when she realises that Ace has fully turned to face her now, and she struggles finding the courage to look at him.

When she does, the pain in his glassy eyes knocks the wind out of her, ‘Nance, I-I-, shit. I’m so fucking sorry Nancy.’

His voice breaks, faltering as he sits upright with his apology. She follows, sitting up cross-legged next to him, ‘Hey, hey,’ she insists, resting her arm on his bicep, willing him to look at her, ‘I wasn’t done… You know what helped me through that? What made me realise that it had obviously been the right choice?’

Ace’s stormy blue eyes look back at her, and he seems to recognise her desperation for levity, ‘Therapy?’

They both chuckle, cutting through a little bit of the tension, ‘Yes, of course therapy,’ she agrees, ‘but unlike therapy, this isn’t something I’ve had since I was eight.’

She takes a deep breath, hoping her persistent eye contact conveys the principle she that she grounds herself to, ‘It was all of you. Seeing you that day when I walked into the Claw that night? With Bess, and Nick and George? With your relieved smiles, and hugs that were insistent on making sure I knew how glad you all were that I was alive? That’s what rushed all that relief into my body. For a spilt second, the Aglaeca highlighted all of my trauma so that I couldn’t see through to the love I was given, and yes, it didn’t help that we were our worst selves that day, fuelled by fear and regret, but when I’d gotten back into my car and drove back to the Claw, I knew. I-’ she drew another breath, trying to gain coherence; there was so much she had to say about that night, so much she’d packed away into a tiny little box in her mind, ‘when I walked in that night, I knew that I’d made the right call, that from then on, whatever near-death experience I was going to get catapulted into, I would always choose to stick around.’

She could feel her throat closing up a little, her voice thickening, ‘The love that I’ve gotten from all of you, and now even Ryan, has changed my life, and it has forever changed the trajectory of who I am, and I whoever I’ll be, and that’s something I’m only grateful for. I know I don’t tell you all that enough, but seriously, I am so, so grateful.’

The tears fall down Ace’s cheeks freely now, and in the vortex of them under a beautiful night sky with their hearts strung out in the open and them alone in between the woods, his reservations seem to lower just enough. His other hand comes over the hand of hers that’s still resting on his bicep, and he intertwines his fingers with hers, a soft whisper following, ‘Still, I’m sorry, what we said was really fucked up, there really isn’t an excuse for it. We all made the decisions that got us to being prophesied to die that night, and it wasn’t you. Nance, you didn’t bring us to our deaths like lambs to slaughter, it was on us, we chose to be there.’

It’s his turn to pierce right through to her heart through his gaze, conviction steady in his words, ‘You are not a cause, and you are not an omen. You are anything but that. And honestly Nancy, I don’t even fucking know what I’d do with myself if we lost you that night.’

Nancy feels relieved in a weird way, the vindication is anything but hollow and ingenuine, it feels good. She laughs lightly, trying to mask a little bit of the subtle discomfort she feels; she knows the sentiment would be undeniably the same the other way around (except Nancy knows that’s partly also because she can’t really comprehend the enormity of what Ace means to her, how he was somehow so much more than a friend), the heaviness in his tone makes the implications of the statement much more intimate that she’s ready to decrypt. ‘Well at least George wouldn’t have died.’

And there it comes, that exasperated ‘Nancy, using humour to cope with your trauma is not funny’ face comfortably settling on Ace’s expression before she’s even done with her sentence. She chooses to laugh it off again (and pretends not to notice how Ace’s fingers tighten around hers perceptibly more).

Neither of them lets go of the other’s hand, and Nancy eventually lays back down on her cushion, with Ace following suite, ‘Okay on a lighter note,’ she refreshes, ‘where do you see yourself in 10 years?’

He hums in thought, ‘Uh, I don’t really know, haven’t thought much about it really.’

There’s an awkward hitch to his voice, and Nancy knows he’s picked up on her picking up on it, and he concedes into a slightly more nuanced response, ‘I’d like to have the standard stuff y’know?’

She looks at him pointedly, ‘The standard stuff?’

He avoids her gaze, ‘Yeah, the standard stuff. I’d like to be in love, and if I’m lucky, possibly even married. And yeah, eventually something like two kids, a white picket fence, y’know, the whole thing.’

The response surprises Nancy for some reason; it’s such an open admission of domesticity, and she unintentionally pictures herself with him in his ideal.

‘You think it’s dumb.’

She’s frayed from her thoughts, and registers that she’d been quietly daydreaming for embarrassingly longer than acceptable, and that Ace perceived it as the opposite of what she was currently thinking.

‘What?’ Nancy tries to steady her heart beating frantically in her chest, the enormity of mapping her entire future with Ace now settling swiftly on her shoulders.

‘Oh my god, you totally think it’s dumb.’

Nancy tries to think through what feels like her brain is melting, ‘I do not think it’s stupid Ace, come on. It’s endearing!’

He looks at her unconvinced. She tries to centre herself, refocusing from the image of two toddlers with his wonderful hair and her fiery eyes, she looks up and away from him again, ‘I’ve always wanted at least two kids too, I never had any siblings, and I’ve always thought that companionship is really important when you’re young. A boy and a girl… would be nice to have someday.’

When she meets his gaze, there’s something indecipherable about them. She tries to not to let how intensely he’s looking at her waver her in staring back at him (but it’s hard, she feels her stomach jump to her throat).  

The finally, he speaks, ‘At least two huh? Never pegged Nancy Drew for the big house, big family type.’

There’s a hint of an endearing tease that laces his tone, and she knows it’s meant to annoy her; she chooses instead to be honest, ‘Yeah, actually.’

A small smile of satisfaction finds her lips as Ace’s eyes widen for just a second, ‘You’re not the only one who wants the standard stuff y’know,’ she says, imitating the tone he’d used, ‘I would also really like to be in love, married even, and settle down. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else. Either way, I definitely do want a legacy. And what better legacy to leave than to love the people you love, maybe even slip into a life with that one special person I love and work to be with, and hopefully they’re a best friend and someone I completely depend on, and I’ll get to create a family with them someday.’

She places intentionality in her last sentence, letting Ace know that maybe this person she hopes to have all that with isn’t some far away concept, but the wonderful friend and companion she’s been able to completely trust and depend on these last few months. His eyes seem to darken as he processes her words, blue pushed to the edges of his irises; she gets the feeling that he might’ve picked up on the implication.

There was no doubt that they’d been recently tip-toeing around what their friendship was evolving into; between Nancy recovering from the Wraith, Ace getting kicked out and Amanda breaking up with him, they’d both changed into such different people in just a few weeks.  They’d both seemed to realise that though their entire worlds had shifted axes, the two of them were the same – they were Nancy and Ace, detective and hacker, a mind racing a hundred miles per hour paired with a rational, calm decision maker, a comet free orbiting in space and the sun’s gravity that grounded it, two best friends. They were comfortable here, safe in the boundaries of their friendship that was a little more than friendship, in confessions through glances and grazes, where the fear of having to figure out how they fit with each other, who they were and what they wanted was too scary for them to consider. For now, the implication was enough.

‘Yeah,’ Ace seemed to agree, his voice a little dreamy, ‘someday.’

[doffy2]

do you have any rules/guidelines you go by when designing and creating a site? i love your web design, the way you combine style with accessibility is very inspiring; i really struggle with that balance

First off: thanks very much for your compliments about my site building. I put a lot of effort into what I create, so it's always nice to hear others enjoy my style or formatting of pages, thanks again.

TL:DR; Start simple and expand when the simple stage is done, don't delete that old half-finished page keep it up somewhere (gives you progressive reference AND a paper trail for growing accessibility wise), and don't be afraid to take inspiration from other sites.

Rambled response under the cut.

I took some time to ruminate on a response here lol. Bounced around some advice or input but ultimately I think starting simple is your best friend in coding.

Starting simply can be useful not even strictly from a site-building perspective, anything from inspiration, to pictures you'll use, to a color palette really. If you start with a bunch of concepts you want to utilize or bring to life your code can wind up very messy very fast, and sometimes you'll start disliking what you're making even if you're nowhere near the end goal you originally had in mind.

I see it a lot from the Neocities sites I follow actually. People start on HUGE webpage ideas, total site overhauls, and burn themselves out when the piece isn't coming to life exactly how they panned it out. I'd recommend even scribbling pencil-sketches for base site layouts, leave the flashy graphics people normally plan around out of it until a later stage in coding, and see how that feels. So many of my pages started as "ghdksdfg.png" from ms paint, seriously. Visualizing your layouts is a lifesaver.

The second point, which I emphasize a lot to people looking to really start up a Neocities or even just get into misc. coding is: keep your old code. Do it. I don't care how messy and shitty and unstable it is- same with keeping old art, you'll notice your progression AND it will be ten thousand times easier to reflect on things like accessibility if you have an old reference point. I've looked back on old code and gone "shit, I forgot (feature)" which more times than not is a QOL (quality of life) implement for the whole page. You're giving yourself a paper trail for improvement AND mistake catching. Big bonus.

Last: everybody has done everything before. Everybody. No matter what your site looks like someone can done that combination of div placements or used that graphic or ETC ETC ETC. Comparison kills. Grab a layout idea you like from some old 2000s cartoon site. See someone use a custom border? Take a look at it and figure out how to do it yourself. Want someone's code for a music player or calendar or gallery? Ask them for it or replicate it. Using inspiration isn't something you should be wary of and sometimes it leads to overthinking in web design.

I could ramble a lot more about design especially in the current Neocities sphere, but I'll try to stick to these 3 points which I think could be helpful.

If you want me to expand on any points or specify anything else let me know. If you also had any further questions I'll try my best to answer them in a more coherent way LOL. I've been on a schoolwork grind, so I hope I'm cohesive enough here.

[withlovelunette]

Hello Lunette! I saw your post about needing advice on how to reconnect with your writing after an absence due to chronic illness, and while I don’t have a chronic illness, I do have chronic depression. Here are 5 tips I’ve learned over the years that have helped me when it comes to feeling disconnected from your writing. Hopefully they help!

Read a book or watch a movie that is similar to what you’re trying to write. Pay attention to how you feel as you read/watch, how the story draws you in, and what kind of imagery/language is used. In what ways is your writing similar to these stories? In what ways is it different?

Rewrite, rewrite, rewrite! Don’t even look at the old scene- just rewrite it from memory. See if anything changes in tone or verbiage.

Bounce ideas off of friends. Sometimes we just need somebody to sort through the weeds with us. Ask for their honest (but kind and constructive) feedback, and see if they have any insights that can help.

Take a notebook with you everywhere you go and jot down your ideas. Whether it’s snippets of prose or dialogue, words that evoke feeling or even journaling! Any writing is better than no writing! Plus keeping all of your thoughts in one spot will help you connect your ideas.

Get excited!!! Make writing fun! Make playlists for your story and/or characters! Make niche memes about your story only a you will understand! Be your own number one fan! Sometimes you just have to let yourself get funky with it!

I hope this helps! If you ever want to talk about your writing or get feedback on something your stuck with my messages are always open! 💛

Thank you so much for the advice!! I saw this ask when it first arrived into my inbox, but didn't get around to answering it until now; I figured other people might also be able to take something useful away from this ask so I wanted to share it :,) Luckily, I have gotten back into the swing of writing, although I'm (evidently) very far behind on tumblr. With some more experience being a chronically ill writer under my belt, these tips have been very helpful for me, particularly the 4th one. Being chronically ill (physically in my case, but this applies to other forms as well!) means you pretty much never know what your physical/mental state is going to be on any given day, so I've given up on planning my writing sessions and embraced writing more sporadically in my notes whenever I feel up for it, and then assemble it into a doc later.

I really appreciate you and everyone else who's reached out ever since I've spoken up about my health problems. Needless to say, it's been a rough (and lonely!) past year as I'm not really surrounded by other people who have any experience with chronic illness. It's a very alienating experience, but that's what makes online spaces like these very helpful; even if I mostly just lurk nowadays until I can manage to be consistent again. I hope you (and anyone else reading this) have a good writing year in 2024! :D <3