junplusone

[junplusone]

this is actually really accurate

tagging @starlyrai @eclipsaria @gyubakeries @mochacoda @sanaxo-o @shinysobi @mylovesstuffs

[junplusone]

omg thanks for tagging ryn i did get the same thing!

tagging @starlyrai @gyubakeries @mochacoda @mylovesstuffs @sanaxo-o @shinysobi @hannieoftheyear

have you guys done that “what kind of reader are you” quiz and if so what did you get

[junplusone]

SCREAMING … WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

[junplusone]

oh GOD dude... but you know this really reminded me of that one line from dwc that goes "when my other half is gone, how can i live as one?"

i gave my all, i held on tight, but love can’t live on borrowed time

i still wonder, i still wait, would you answer, would you stay?

since when did things go wrong?; kim mingyu x reader — or, five times it wasn’t meant to be + one time it was

dory’s notes: happy mingyu day 🤍 have some angst also these are NOT the same timeline okay i just had like a dozen different fic ideas and uhm i couldn’t pick one so. here :P

i really really love these songs but it’s not available anywhere else but here :( tbh the entire playlist inspired this fic PLEASE LISTEN TO IT GAWD I LOVE THIS PLAYLIST.

cw: unbetaed, lack of y/n, they/them pronouns used, reader is described as smaller than gyu but also WHO TF IS BIGGER THAN HIM, ANGST ANGST ANGST, fluff if you like. really really squint, swearing, hurt/comfort at the end, implied soulmate au in one of them, implied mingyu death, implied reader death, attempts were made at magical realism, unrequited love, breakups, crying, literally just a sad sad fic i’m so sorry i’m literally incapable of writing fluff atp

wc: 1.5k

🎧 saranghey❕dory’s playlist — @maestro-net

—

a quiet fade, a slow embrace. (1)

you don’t think you can do this.

how are you supposed to live without someone who was supposed to be your everything when everything reminds you of him?

you can’t sleep in the middle of the bed anymore. it feels wrong.

you’re so used to cooking for two that you’re forced to buy more tupperware to accommodate the surplus of food.

you’re so used to paying for two that it surprises you how cheap it is to pay for one.

it’s hard, to relearn to live for one instead of two.

but not impossible.

because you get used to the silence. it becomes comforting, instead of taunting. you get used to eating alone, instead of it being a looming reminder of your ex. you get used to being alone without being lonely.

still. you wish it could have worked out between the two of you.

—

secrets we’re scared to speak. (2)

if someone asked kim mingyu why he was so obsessed with a person who didn’t love him back, he’d respond that you did.

just not in the way that he wanted you to.

he could recite all of your quirks, down to the most unnoticeable things they’d think he was crazy. he could list your favorite things by heart: foods, boba order, books, games, tv shows, all of it. he could tell them all of the reasons why you’d captured his heart, and most importantly, he could tell them why he’d never tell you any of this.

they don’t love me like that.

and so they’d look over at you, happily chatting with seungkwan about something. and they’d see the look on mingyu’s face, and how soft his expression turned when he looked at you, and how it didn’t sit quite right with them.

and they’d realize that it’s because it’s sad.

his expression is so full of love. he looks at you so sweetly, so earnestly, so adoring that they just know that he’s astronomically down bad for you.

but it’s also forlorn. wistful. it’s heartbroken, for some reason.

and so they ask him why.

and he’d respond that you don’t see him that way, that you only see him as a friend, and that really, he’s okay with it. you still love him, just not in the traditional sense, and what’s so wrong with that?

and once they leave, and mingyu is winding down from a busy day, he’s left alone with his thoughts. and god, does it hurt.

because what’s wrong is that you’re his everything.

but he’s not yours.

—

and wonder if it’s you, or if i’m the ghost. (3)

“you have to move on.”

you turn to jihoon, eyes filled with tears. his words are sharp, but you know that he comes from a place of love, because his eyes are glossing over as he speaks.

“ji, i can’t.”

“you have to. you know i’m right.” he pauses, wondering if he should speak the words sitting on his tongue.

(un)fortunately, you say them for him.

“don’t you fucking dare say that he’d want me to.”

your tone was broken before, but now it’s as if the glass shards have their edges pointed towards jihoon, poised to hurt him while simultaneously cutting into you.

and he knows this. because he knew mingyu, and he knew how damn much his best friend meant to you.

he says your name gently.

“i won’t.” he squeezes your knee gently. “but you know it’s true.”

“how?” he has to catch himself from flinching, because your voice is so broken that it hurts to listen to. “how, jihoon? god, we were supposed to get fucking married and now he’s gone.”

“i see him everywhere. i think i see him in crowds, which is impossible but there’s still a part of me that thinks he’s still here. i listen to music and i can’t stop thinking about him. i can’t even pass by a fucking coffee shop without crying. i can’t let go. how the hell am i supposed to?”

he was is the love of my life, you want to say. i can’t let go because part of me acts like he’s still here.

“i don’t know,” he whispers, and you think your heart breaks a little more.

but he’d want you to be happy, he wants to say, and he doesn’t have to. because you already know.

“do you ever get mad at him? that he left?”

jihoon sighs.

“i know i shouldn’t.”

“but you do.”

he nods, and you pull your legs closer to your chest.

he doesn’t have to ask if you feel the same. he already knows.

—

shadows cast by me and you. (4)

ring. ring, ring.

you answer your phone.

“여보세요?”

“hey. it’s me.”

“hi, gyu.”

“so. uh. i really enjoyed this past month.” you smile.

“i’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

“damn, not even a ‘me too’?”

you snort.

“yes, gyu, i enjoyed it too. but i know that that’s not the reason why you called me.” he sighs, and he sounds genuinely frustrated. it makes you laugh, and he groans into the phone.

“i hate you.”

“says the man who proposed that we date for a month, only to call me saying that he regrets it.”

you can practically hear his frown.

“no. i didn’t regret it.”

you pause.

“oh.”

“but—don’t say anything! let me finish.”

“fine.” you grin.

“would it make you mad if i said that i liked us better as friends?”

you let out a relieved oh thank god and mingyu lets out the breath that he’s been holding in.

“so you agree?”

you laugh.

“yeah. i mean, i’m kinda sad that we didn’t work out like that, but i kinda like us better as friends, too.”

mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh.

“i really wanted us to work out.”

“we do, gyu, just not like that.”

“yeah.” you hear the dejection in his voice, and it makes you laugh.

“stop laughing at my misery!”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. here, let’s go get boba. 난 사줄게.”

“you better.”

—

i keep holding onto something that’s already gone. (5)

mingyu looks over at his shadow.

it looks lonely.

he brushes the thought away.

but he knows, secretly, in the back corners of his mind that creep out to rack his psyche with guilt, that he can’t keep ignoring the loss of you.

beautiful, breathtaking, wonderful you.

it’s not that you’re everywhere he goes. no, it’s that everywhere he goes is a reminder of where you aren’t.

you aren’t by his side when he wakes up in the morning. you aren’t there to laugh at soonyoung’s terrible jokes, you aren’t there to remind him to drink his water and take his supplements, you aren’t there to cheer him up when he’s feeling down. you aren’t there to see your shadows, together, dancing on the wall as the last dregs of daylight filter in through the blinds.

and he can’t hug you when you’ve had a bad day anymore. he can’t kiss your forehead when you’re sick, he can’t make you breakfast in the morning, he can’t drive you to work when you’re running late, he can’t try and convince you to skip work and stay in with him anymore.

you aren’t with him anymore, and that’s what breaks him.

and you won’t ever be there, to be woken up by your children at ungodly hours of the morning. you won’t get the chance to be walked down the aisle. he won’t get the chance to show the world how much he loves you, he won’t be able to slow dance with you, even when his back hurts and your hair grays.

he won’t get the chance to grow old with you.

his shadow is lonely without yours beside it.

—

if i stay, will you still love me the same? (+1)

his expression is desperate. and his eyes are so, so terrified that you wonder what kind of monster you are to have nearly broken this boy.

how does he manage to look so small?

“i’m not leaving you. not ever. i promise you, kim mingyu.”

his tear-filled eyes spill over, and you gather as much of him as you can, wrapping your arms around his broad torso.

“god, don’t you ever scare me like that again. please.” his voice is a jumble of whispered sobs and a heart that is so, so close to shattering. he leans his forehead against yours, and you realize that you can never come this close to breaking his heart ever again. because he’s so, so vulnerable around you, and his muscles only do so much to protect his heart.

“i won’t,” you whisper. “i will never, ever leave you, mingyu.”

it’s his turn to wrap his arms around your smaller frame, and your strong persona crumbles around him.

but it’s okay, because the two of you will always be there to catch the other.

—

a/n: 김민규씨! 생신 축하해요 🥳 오늘 행복한 하루 보내고 맛있는 음식 먹어요 🤍

taglist: @sousydive @dreamingofpcy @junplusone @mary1618rosie-blog @iris65 — wanna join my taglist?

[junplusone]

absolutely obsessed with honey by samia

[junplusone]

i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child

wasn't tagged, just looked fun! @starlyrai @jiabae @sanaxo-o @mylovesstuffs and anyone who sees it !

color the sentence that's true about you >.>

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child

no pressure tags >.>

@snowyquokka @sungiesbbg

[junplusone]

reblogging this onto my main again because i come back to read this every once in a while and it makes me happy and i hope it spreads to more of caratblr and makes them happy too

[w.jh] lovescratch!

synopsis. | your plan was to have your heart stolen by the cat of your dreams. the universe, however, has a different idea in mind, and you somehow find your heart beating not only for the orange tabby with the notched ear, but also the soft-hearted animal shelter worker who steals glances at you every chance he gets.

♯ pairing(s). | animal shelter worker!jun x adopter!reader, various shelter worker!svt & reader ♯ genre(s). | strangers to lovers, pining, fluff ♯ wc. | 5.9k... whoops ♯ warnings. | cursing, mentions of blood/cuts, svt chaotic antics (because i have to always remind everyone that these men give us second hand embarrassment)

jay’s musings. | a very happy (albeit unfortunately late) birthday to @junplusone !! i know i already said this to u thru dms but i’m so so sooo glad to have met u and i hope we continue to be silly together :3 i love talking to u!! identity v WILL be kind to u one day trust. i hope you enjoy <3! also, thank you to my lovely @fallminlove for brainstorming this with me hehe

Stepping out of your car into the chilly winter weather, you gaze up at the building with a cocked brow. The Google Maps images you had carefully studied weeks before, deep into the research of what pet shelters were in your area, looked nothing like what was in front of you.

Serenity Shelter was a rather well-kept building, if the sparkling string lights in the window along with the various colorful drawings of cats and dogs on the glass were anything to go by. You eye their sign hanging above the front door with a smile, the shelter’s logo of soft rose pink paw prints etched into it with obvious care. In the distance, you can hear the faint delighted noises of animals, noting the high wired fence that surrounded the back of the shelter.

Minghao really knew his animal shelters, you conclude with a chuckle.

Your boots crunch on the thin layer of leftover snow from the blizzard a few days back as you walk towards the door. While it seems like this shelter takes the time to shovel the snow in their small parking lot to the best of their ability, along with clearing the pathway leading up front, it appears they haven’t had the chance yet to take care of last night’s flurries. Your breath curls into the air, misty and wisping, and a puff of relief escapes you when your hand lands on the metal door handle. You’re eager to get inside, both to get out of the cold and to greet the future that awaits you.

Adopting a cat has been on your mind since you moved out from your family home. You had a strict requirement when searching for apartments that the landlord must be welcoming of pets, already dedicated to the idea that once you were well-adjusted with a stable income, you would bring home a new friend to spend your days with.

You’ll admit: it’s lonely, living alone.

Many days in your apartment were spent in silence or with the company of your favorite Spotify playlist. Some days you’ll imagine how, if you had a cat, you’d get distracted doing chores by their silly antics—and a deeper tucked away part of you sometimes even indulges in the idea of another hand brushing yours, pulling you to dance with them in the kitchen as your pet watches from the sidelines.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of those thoughts. Daydreams are just daydreams.

Your work friend, Minghao, had been the one to suggest Serenity Shelter, claiming he had friends from college who ended up with various jobs there. He had even held up his siamese cat, Tiramisu, over FaceTime once while explaining how he fell in love with him at first sight in the play area.

Tiramisu had sniffed the camera with an interest like no other before promptly licking it. Minghao, distraught, pulled the kitty away with gentle scolding, while you had laughed and internally promised yourself you would check out the place when you had the chance.

“Tell them you know me,” Minghao advised you yesterday when you revealed your plans of finally visiting the shelter. “Might help in getting a discount, or something.”

Discount or not, you were grateful for his help.

As you step into the shelter, a little bell above the door jingles, making the man behind the front counter raise his head in acknowledgement. You smile, nervousness coating your features.

“Hello, I’m here for the adoption appointment I scheduled,” you greet politely.

The man tilts his head with a slight nod, beginning to click away on the computer in front of him. He must have decided that his glasses are a little too low on the bridge of his nose, because he pushes them up without hesitation as he looks at you a second time, inquiring about your name.

After you confirm it, along with your birthday, his lips tug upwards in a smile. “You’re all set. Jun should be here in a moment to take you back to the kennel area.”

“Thank you…” you pause, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your coat, realizing you don’t know his name.

“Wonwoo!” comes a panicked shout from behind the door leading to the kennels.

The two of you turn to the noise, just in time to see another man burst through the door with a frantic look on his face. His straight dark brown hair is messy, the beauty mark on his cheek scrunching up from the way his mouth is pulled into a frown. He barely even registers your presence before he’s hauling the newly named Wonwoo out of his comfy receptionist chair.

“Hyung, the girls are fighting again and I can’t find Jun,” he cries. “Please help!”

As if on cue, a few distant but high-pitched caterwauls can be heard from behind the door the man just came out of. Wonwoo sighs and pushes his glasses up again.

“Seokmin-ah, I can’t help,” he retorts. “I’m the receptionist. I have to stay here and man the front desk. Like I’m doing right now.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re scared!”

Wonwoo just laughs. “I think you’re projecting. Where’s Joshua?”

“With a client in the adoption processing room,” Seokmin whines, finally taking notice of you. “Oh!—I’m so sorry, hello. Please excuse me. Are you here for an appointment?”

He bows a bit too formally for the situation at hand. Stifling your own laugh, you smile into your fist and bow politely in turn.

“Yes, I’m hoping to meet some animals,” you chirp happily. “Do you need help though? It sounds like a cat fight back there.”

Seokmin hesitates, his eyes flickering between you and the receptionist for a few moments. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” the shorter man ultimately waves you off, grinning in an attempt to appear more confident. “You’re a visitor! Wouldn’t be fair to ask you to do my job for me.”

Another faint yowl sounds. Your eyes widen and Seokmin flinches.

Wonwoo turns to you, seemingly having come to a decision in the time that it takes for his coworker’s fingers to start fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “Are you any good with cats, by chance?”

By the time you’re on your way to the play area, you’ve become pretty familiarized with Seokmin. You learn that he’s a new-ish hire, an animal care attendant who has dreams of becoming a shelter manager one day, and as he rambles on you find yourself smiling.

Behind the door from the receptionist area was a small room with a sink. “For sanitation purposes,” Seokmin had explained while you rinsed your hands. “Just so that we keep the animals as safe as possible.”

He now was currently leading you down another hallway and through another door (there were so many doors, you mused in awe, but Seokmin was quick to reassure it was to bar animals from escaping). This one has a sign that reads in all capital letters, “PLEASE CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND YOU.” Your hands shake in anticipation. As if reading your mind, Seokmin beams at you before opening the door.

“Careful, now.���

And the sight takes your breath away.

It’s well-lit with warm lighting coating the hallway, and pleasantly clean. Dozens of kennels line both sides. Dogs press their muzzles against their cages, tongues lolling out eagerly to greet you. In other cages, there are cats who lazily blink or raise their tails in a hello, watching you with intrigued eyes. Each cage seems to house a fuzzy bed and a couple of toys, which delights you—you were always a hater of barren enclosures.

To you and Seokmin’s surprise, at the far end of the hallway another worker is cooing at a hissing cat through the bars of its enclosure. Another cat is squirming woefully in his arms. The shelter staff member next to you brightens up immediately at the sight and hurries towards him with you hastily on his heels.

“Hyung! There you are! Were you able to get them to stop?”

When the man startles and meets your gaze, your breath is taken away a second time.

Oh, wow. Double kill.

His dark brown eyes remind you of a cup of hot mocha, heightening your senses and invigorating you to the bone. The man brushes a few strands of equally dark brown hair out of his face as the orange tabby in his free arm mewls pitifully and repeatedly. His eyes never leave yours as you take each other in, blissfully unaware of the way Seokmin is looking between you two like a man caught in crossfire.

“Hello,” you finally croak out, throat suddenly dry. “I’m uh… here for an appointment.”

Your words jolt the man back into work mode. He coughs, regaining his composure and nodding cordially. “I’m Jun. This is Snoop.”

Snoop, on the other hand, seems very keen on getting back to clawing at the calico through the cage bars. You giggle at the way the animal’s limbs flail in the air, utterly helpless. Snoop is adorable, with a cream-furred underbelly and whiskers that gleam in the shelter light. Jun tuts and holds the cat away like he’s Rafiki from The Lion King, showcasing baby Simba to the world.

“Easy, girl,” he mutters. Seokmin takes a step back for his own safety.

“Hello, Snoop,” you smile, peering closer at the interesting slitted ear the cat sports. “That’s a cool battle scar you’ve got. Where’d you get it?”

The tabby eyes you warily from Jun’s arms, choosing not to respond. Instead, she pushes an unsheathed paw onto his chest for support against him before beginning to wriggle around for the umpteenth time. The shelter worker grunts in displeasure and flashes you another drawn out stare.

“Sorry, she’s a little untrustworthy of strangers. Snoop—be nice. Come on, at least look at them.”

“It’s alright,” you relent heartily, your smile growing like the sun after a solar eclipse; Jun quickly looks away and it has you aching for his attention again already, eyes chasing after the wisps of his hair.

Seokmin clears his throat and you wince, feeling caught. You instantly find interest in anything else other than the man you met barely two minutes ago. What were you, some kind of middle schooler who's been caught blatantly staring at their crush from across the classroom during lecture? The thought mortifies you. You haven’t felt this way in a good while.

To your left, Seokmin only giggles. You side eye him as he teases his bottom lip between his teeth to disguise the smile he’s fighting. For someone who just met you, he looks a lot like someone who’s uneasily giddy about knowing something you don’t.

Daring to take a peek at the worker in front of you again, Jun’s face appears equally as taken off guard. You momentarily wonder if he would make the same face from a surprise kiss.

Then you completely bat the idea out of the baseball field that is your mind, praying for a home run so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself any further than you already have.

“I—uh. I need to bring her to the med room real quick for a check up,” Jun’s eyes flicker between you and Snoop. “I’ll see you around, though?”

“Yeah,” you reply slowly. “I’ll see you around.”

It’s quiet between the three of you as Jun bows his head and starts to walk in the opposite direction. You find yourself craning your neck slightly to watch as Snoop finally settles against his shoulder, narrowing her eyes at you with what you would hope is curiosity. Her tail curls in the air behind her, long and plumy.

A few dogs bark as Jun walks by, to which the man raises a calm hand to let them lick through the bars, smiling contentedly. Your eyes travel from a blonde labrador’s graying muzzle to Jun’s pinky finger that’s decorated with a silver ring, then to his wrist where a black banded bracelet wraps around, then to his thick brown corduroy jacket—

Seokmin is saying your name. You snap out of your trance and gnaw on your top lip out of nervous habit.

He seems amused when he asks, “Ready to meet more animals? I think some of those cats behind us are staring into your soul.”

Trying to get your bearings, you turn to face him fully, watching the way he tries—and successfully fails once more—to tone down his mocking grin. A huff escapes past you before you can regulate your breath.

“Yeah, lead the way.”

You get home a little past seven, feeling unsettlingly empty.

The apartment welcomes you in silence. Your shuffling echoes through the foyer as you slip off your snow-slicked boots and tuck them neatly in your closet, along with your heavy winter coat. A sigh leaves your mouth, and you take your time rummaging through your kitchen for leftovers to eat before you head to bed, your mind drowning in its own thoughts.

You can’t get Snoop’s scored ear out of your head. The divot makes your heart clench, beating a little too fast for your liking. And along with the orange tabby, that damn dashing shelter worker you met today wasn’t much help in stopping yourself from having palpitations, either.

After Jun left, Seokmin let you wander around the kennel hallway alone, disappearing off to who-knows-where for a few minutes as you tried your best to acquaint yourself with the animals.

A white himalayan named Orchata had rubbed himself against his cage bars to feel your fingers in his fur, purring loudly, while the young russian blue dubbed Spark a few cages down peered at you worriedly from inside her fuzzy hut. While Orchata was definitely sweet, you weren’t entirely sure if you could handle his long-furred coat throughout the seasons, bidding him a soft goodbye and a promise to visit again if you had the time.

You even met the calico Snoop had apparently been fighting with earlier—her name was Button—and just as you expected, her eyes were as smooth and iridescent as her namesake, completed by her pearly white teeth that shone when she yawned. When your hand initially brushed the cage, Button hissed in warning, flicking her tail lowly across the floor. However, after a few minutes of murmuring abstract phrases to her, she settled into a loafed position near you, blinking slowly. The sight made you smile.

She didn’t have the same charm as Snoop did, though. That was for sure.

After meeting a few more cats, none of them quite matching the missing puzzle piece from your home, you made the tough decision to leave. You had a few more shelters that you were planning to visit in the upcoming days, anyways—maybe another cat would captivate your attention and heart like you wanted.

Saying goodbye to Seokmin and weaving through the hallway, you had passed by Snoop’s cage. It was empty when you left, much to your disappointment. Wonwoo offered a smile in farewell as you opened the door, the bell above you giving its endearing little song as a send-off.

And just like that, you parted ways with Serenity Shelter without another chance to see an orange ringed tail or big dark brown eyes.

Shutting off the faucet in your bathroom, you brush your teeth the tiniest bit more hard than usual, trying to push Jun and Snoop out of your brain. The toothpaste stings on your tongue and you spit it out into the sink harshly. It felt like a part of you had slipped through your fingers today; a piece of broken glass, maybe, for your currently incomplete stained-window of life. One that escaped your hands and left small metaphorical cuts along the skin in its wake.

Was this what it was like to truly want?

Trudging to your bed, you collapse onto your duvet, burying your face in the soft material and groaning. Snoop might’ve been the first shelter cat you met, but she definitely wasn’t and won’t be the last one you meet.

There will be other cats, you try to reason with yourself, eyelids becoming heavy.

Of course, as if the universe loved dangling missed chances in front of you, Jun crosses your mind, causing you to involuntarily shudder and burrow deeper into your blanket.

You didn’t even know the man and he held an embarrassingly impressive chokehold on you. It made you feel incredibly vulnerable—like a peeled orange ready to be torn into with sharp fingernails of judgement. A single rough handling, and you would be reduced to nothing but pulped juice, only good for a few days before turning sour. Your sleep-encased thoughts berate yourself for falling for someone you had a five minute long conversation with. There will be other cats, and other pretty shelter workers.

You were sure of it.

Your eyes finally drift to a close, and that night, you dream of tufts of orange fur accompanied by warm coffee brown eyes.

You’re here again.

Two animal shelters and many unsuccessful attempts at finding a cat that nips at your heart later, you find yourself back at Serenity Shelter, scrutinizing the paw printed logo like it could solve all of your life’s problems.

Today, thankfully, nurtured slightly higher temperatures than the day of your last visit. The piles of snow had melted to concrete pavement, and you were able to opt for sneakers today instead of your winter boots, their rough soles scruffing against the road as you made your way to the familiar string-lighted windows.

Wonwoo’s at the front desk this time, too, his head lifting at the sound of your entrance. He pushes his thick-framed glasses back up the bridge of his nose as his lips stretch into a smile.

“Hello. Back again so soon?”

His teasing tone doesn’t go unmissed by you, and you chuckle in reply. You stride up to the counter, nodding your head with a matching expression, gaze meeting his.

“Yup. Someone here caught my eye last time, so I’m back.”

As he goes through the mandatory identity verification process, his smile turns into something more akin to a smirk. “Someone, huh? Just letting you know, Jun isn’t in today. Seokmin will be taking care of you this time around.”

You can’t help it; your eyes dart down to the floor in disappointment and you purse your lips to refrain from having them fall into a frown.

“Oh…” you trail off. “That’s okay. I’m here for Snoop, actually. Not Jun.”

“I never said you were here for Jun,” Wonwoo’s eyes sparkle with mischief, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his knowing stare, hating how he can read you like an open book when it’s only the second time you’ve interacted. “This is an adoption shelter, after all.”

“Right. An adoption shelter.”

A few minutes later, Seokmin enthusiastically leads you back to the kennel area, waving his hands in the air excitedly at your reappearance at the shelter. He gives you an update on how all of the animals are doing while you wash your hands, and you never fail to make conversation with him just as earnestly, loving the way he perks up at your voice.

When you’re let through the door again, you make a beeline straight to Snoop’s enclosure. Unlike last time, her cage is occupied, and you find her in the middle of a nap at the back corner of her cage. She opens one eye—pale and green—before letting it fall close once more. Her nicked ear flicks in acknowledgement at your presence.

Seokmin is close behind you, his tone soft so as to not disturb the orange tabby too much. “You know, Jun is really fond of her.”

You hum lightly as a response, carefully lifting your fingers to the bars to get the cat accustomed to your scent. “Really now?”

“Yeah. I was told this secondhand, but Jun found Snoop when she was a kitten—maybe four years ago? Five? He couldn’t find her mom and so he took her here. Pretty sure she’s the reason he even ended up working at this shelter in the first place.”

“Why doesn’t he just adopt her?”

Seokmin shrugs even though you can’t see him. “Landlord doesn’t allow cats, I think? Something like that.”

You’re lost in thought as Snoop stretches, her orange tail curling in satisfaction at the rest she was able to obtain from her sleep. The cat slowly makes her way to your hand on the bar, sniffing your fingers cautiously from a few inches away, and your breath hitches.

“Seokmin, do you think I could bring her to the play area for some alone time?”

Much to your delight, Snoop heads for the mouse toy straight away once she’s put down by Seokmin.

“Let me know when you’re ready to leave,” the worker flashes a smile before he closes the door, the hinges creaking slightly.

The room is painted a robin egg blue, pastel and complimentary to Snoop’s stripes of orange. Various toys litter the ground: a feather on a string, a complicated puzzle that’s no doubt filled with treats, and of course, the mouse squeaker that Snoop is currently brawling with, pouncing on the poor thing with an excited trill.

Your eyes land on the laser pointer nearby. Picking it up, you click the power button, the red dot flashing on the ground. You drag it to where the orange tabby is stationed and watch as her asymmetrical ears stand up in attention right away.

She scrambles for the beam of light and you giggle, indulging the tabby in a game of chase.

Your heart doesn’t feel as burdened as it usually does in your lonely little apartment, but something still feels off, like a stubborn string of pith in an orange slice that you can’t get off. You can’t place your finger on it until Snoop tumbles into the leg of a chair that’s the same shade as Jun’s eyes.

“Careful!” you scold, scurrying over to check if she got hurt in her escapades. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep up with this.”

Snoop looks up at you with large, light green eyes, reminding you of the pure crystal jade bracelets you awe over in stores. She meows and swishes her tail across the floor. You selfishly wish a second pair accompanied hers, deep and rich and onyx, along with the curling smile that you desperately wanted to hear say your name.

Crouching low, you hold out your hand. Snoop peers at you from her place next to the chair leg before padding over, her paws scraping along the floor, and she begins to rub her face against your knuckles. A faint purr rumbles from her chest.

Oh, you were so done for.

And that’s how Jun finds you several hours later—sitting with your back to the wall, Snoop settled in your lap dozing away without a care in the world. The clock on the wall indicates it’s near closing time for the shelter.

You blink in surprise, feeling jarred at the unexpected visit of the man who’s been living in your mind rent free the past few weeks.

“I thought you weren’t in today?”

“Oh—uh. I wanted to check in on Snoop.”

He’s positioned in the door awkwardly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to come in. You take a few moments to drink in the sight of that familiar brown corduroy jacket and the black turtleneck he wears underneath, tight-fitting and snug. Where did he get the stylish jacket from? What was his fashion sense like in other seasons? Did he not get cold easily?

You substitute these questions for something far more in tune with the situation at hand. “You can come in and sit down,” you offer, startling the man out of his own trance.

If someone who didn’t know any better was watching, they’d think you were the worker and he was the adopter, with the way he carefully locks the door behind him and sits down next to you. The brown corduroy slides off his broad shoulders with ease and is nicely folded into a pile on the other side of him.

“I'm thinking of adopting her,” you get straight to the point, carding your fingers through the tabby’s silky fur. “But I wanted to talk to you first. I know you’ve been looking over her for the past few years and that she means a lot to you, but I haven't bonded with a cat like this at all yet. I really like her.”

Silence.

Jun shifts uncomfortably from your right. You don’t dare meet his eyes, even when it’s what your heart aches to do, afraid of what you’ll find in his gaze. Anger? Betrayal? Or worse—indifference?

In the strained lull of silence, Snoop awakens from her slumber, muscles flexing against your jeans.

“Did you know,” Jun starts softly, watching as Snoop bats at her pink nose to itch herself, “I named her Snoop because I found her snooping through the trash as a kitten? She was all alone playing with a used tissue. Couldn’t have been more than six months old.”

You grin, momentarily feeling the tension fade in the room. “Well, at least you didn’t name her Trash. Or Tissue.”

The unexpected and loud laugh that Jun lets out startles you and Snoop, the tabby scampering to her feet in your lap and unsheathing her claws at the noise. You hiss in pain as her claw hooks its way into your forearm, leaving a faint grazing of blood behind.

“Snoop,” you chide amusingly, not even a hint of malice lacing your words, but Jun is frantically reaching for the first aid kit the workers keep in the play area for instances like this. “Look what you did. Now I’m bleeding!”

She bundles innocently off to the corner of the room as Jun disinfects your cut, his fingers sliding along your wrist and sending a shiver down your spine. The heat radiating off of him is so warm it almost has the reverse effect, your mind frozen and tongue feeling like it's stuck to an icicle.

“She does this a lot,” Jun says affectionately.

He draws his touch away from you (much to your displeasure, but that’s a thought to dissect for another time) and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a thin, healed scar in the same area as yours.

You cock your head in question. Jun sucks in a sharp breath and shakes his head. “She doesn’t like baths too much. I try to look at it positively and see them as her love language. Like a lovescratch.”

Meeting his eyes yet again, you search the swirls of coffee in them, finding complete adoration.

“When did she get the notch in her ear?” you ask, the question haunting you ever since you first laid eyes on her.

“Got into a fight when she was younger with one of the previous shelter cats,” Jun replies, mirth now swimming in his eyes at the memory. “Her own lovescratch, I guess. Now you match with us.”

Snoop meows, coming back to circle the two of you, obviously put off by not being the center of attention at the moment. The worker scoops her up in his arms and lets her nuzzle against his jawline. His eyes are softened, downcasted at his beloved shelter animal, and you clench your fists. Your heart is rattling against your ribcage, loud and dangerous, and all you can think of are oranges and the meticulous method of peeling back their skin, removing the pith, and squeezing until there’s only pulp.

Temptation. Desire. Want.

All for more things than one.

“Are you going to take good care of her?”

Jun’s question startles you and makes you realize just how tense your hands are. Your knuckles are whitened with stress, and you try your best to relax them as your brain ponders over his inquiry. “Why? Is the adoption process starting right now?”

“Oh, no,” he smiles a little awkwardly. “Just… more for my own sanity.”

You nod at his explanation. “Of course I’ll take good care of her. She deserves a comfortable and loving home, and I’ll do my absolute best to fulfill that role as her caretaker.”

The man is silent again for a minute. You shift from foot to foot, doing your best to keep your spiking nervousness at bay.

Then, after what feels like an eternity, Jun sucks in another breath. “As long as I know she’s in good hands, I’ll be happy. And—uh, your hands are… nice. So.”

A giggle slips past you at his words. Was he trying to flirt with you?

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out your swirling thoughts, surging with an alarming amount of pure want. You can almost taste the orange juice on your tongue. “You know, if you wanted to, you could visit her. At my place. Only if you wanted to though! No pressure. Seriously.”

Real smooth, you inwardly cringe afterwards at your rushed tone. Totally not desperate of you at all.

Thankfully, Jun doesn’t seem to notice your inept attempts at making a move, eyes lighting up and his shoulders loosening. Snoop chirps and pushes a paw into his chest, the man letting out an oomf before steadying himself.

“...Really?”

“Yeah,” you smile, fussing with a strand of your hair. “Considering I get approved to adopt her first, of course.”

Jun meets your eyes. A sweet, citrusy scent fills your senses, and your smile widens as his lips curve upwards.

“That would be cool. I’d like that a lot.”

You ended up adopting Snoop a few days later.

Joshua, the adoption manager, was patient and welcoming throughout the processing of you becoming Snoop’s official owner. You answered his questions with ease, and the verification papers were in your hands before you knew it.

The workers were, inevitably, a mess when you carried Snoop’s carrier through the receptionist area. Seokmin had begged for you to come visit again, saying you helped around more than you thought you did. “I swear, the animals are put under a tranquility spell when they see you,” he had said from his position on the floor, bowing with his head in a prayer before you. “Please come back!”

Wonwoo shed a few tears at the sight of the orange cat—your orange cat, you had giddily realized—peeking out from inside the carrier box. He turned away from you and sniffled quietly, and you had only laughed in reply.

All the way to your car, Jun trailed behind, fretting over if Snoop was comfortable or not in her temporary holder. His fingers continuously brushed your own, insisting that he’ll carry her, and you had let him. You two exchanged contact information with the promise of many nights ahead full with texting and FaceTimes.

That was all about two months ago.

Snoop has settled surprisingly easy into your home, parading around like she owns the place. The foot of your bed has been claimed as hers, curling up on your mattress and kneading her soft paws into the blanket. When she thinks you aren’t looking, she’ll steal the socks from your hamper and will gnaw on them, much to your displeasure. Your favorite is when she begs for treats five minutes after feeding her—because really, who can resist her charms?

Speaking of charms, Jun and you had been regularly messaging each other since you exchanged numbers, conversations drifting from how Snoop is doing, to what you had for breakfast that morning, to if squirrels purposefully forgot where they put their nuts to help the environment.

(For some reason, he is insistent that squirrels are way smarter than humans think. You still aren’t sure whether to let him win the argument or not.)

His words never fail to make your day, lighting up your phone’s screen with a ping! that leaves you in shambles trying to respond as fast as possible. His texts are, additionally, almost always accompanied with little kaomojis that make your heart twist with longing.

FaceTimes always went late into the night, too, the two of you somehow not having enough things to talk about aimlessly. He talks about the shelter, you talk about your work; he gives mukbangs, you narrate your skincare routine. All in all, you’ve come to accept the fact that knowing Jun is one of the greatest gifts the universe has given to you thus far in life.

“Here, I peeled some oranges for us.”

Jun looks up from his place against the foot of your couch. You place the plated orange slices on the coffee table and sit next to him, your hands flying to scratch Snoop’s chin. She’s currently perching on top of Jun’s outstretched legs, rubbing her face along the underside of his chin, and he giggles as he pushes her away.

Your mind wanders back to being unpeeled like an orange, raw and ripe for the taking, ready to be pressed into juice. Maybe not all oranges taste bitter, you muse, as long as they get to grow for long enough.

Everything you want is here, right at your fingertips—all you have to do is take the first dig in.

Before you can say something, though, Jun’s voice cuts through your monologue.

“Thank you for letting me come over.”

He gazes at you from underneath his tousled brown hair, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a tiny and shy smile. Snoop takes this as an opportunity to sniff inquisitively at the piece of orange he had picked up. Jun tsks and boops her nose.

“Not for you,” he teases. “You’ll throw up.”

She wrinkles her nose and backs away. You resist the urge to topple the two of them over with long hugs and soft kisses.

“Of course,” you hum. “I know Snoop really enjoys your company.”

“What about you?” he asks suddenly—tentatively, like he’s a little afraid of the answer.

“Huh?”

Jun hesitates, his eyes following his fingers that are tinkering with the cat’s tail in gentle teasing. “Do you enjoy my company?”

The question takes you aback. You fall quiet for a little, letting your eyes trace over Jun’s pinky ring and the familiar slope of his nose. Your apartment lamp sets his skin aglow in a warm amber, filling you with a sense of calmness you’ve never known before.

“Yeah,” you confess softly. “Yeah, I do.”

You hear the exhale he lets out, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Me too,” he grins and scratches Snoop behind the ears. “Thank you for adopting Snoop. I'm glad it’s you.”

Your own ears burn.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I'm glad it’s you, too.”

Popping an orange slice in your mouth to distract yourself from his gaze, the taste overwhelms you. Your nails dig slightly into the piece you’re currently holding, prickling the skin and letting sticky juice stain your fingers. You lick the juice off and Jun watches you with an emotion you can’t describe.

It’s sweet, tangy, and most of all—it feels right.

#s - @heartepub, @junplusone, @fallminlove, @wheeboo. if you’d like to be notified when new releases drop, don’t hesitate to send in an ask! <3

[junplusone]

ASHIIIIIIII

16. how many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? share one of them? (SHARE THAT WONWOO ASSASSIN AU. RIGHT FUCKING NOW.)

45. do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh? (I already know the answer to this but I’m making you expose yourself)

68. what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

75. what scene in i’ll always say it’s you took the longest to write? what was difficult about it?

hi jay !!!

16. so many! i wanna say above 10 HAHA and yes ofc, this wip is my current baby and i love it so much:

i've titled it daughter of the sword, son of the wild, and the premise is that it's set in a historical au and there's an ongoing coup within the royal family -- the sitting king's uncle is trying to usurp the throne. reader is an assassin who's working for said uncle, along with seungkwan and seokmin, and wonwoo (along with seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu) is an assassin who's a part of the resistance group who wants change and a democratic society.

i'm not that good at writing action but i hope everyone enjoys it!

45. why are you trying to expose me !!!! but yes, i like writing angst and breaking everyone's hearts, me included xx

68. music music music!! i'm chronically on spotify... a song i've been liking a lot lately is honey by samia!

75. i think definitely the six years ago scene closer to the end. i think it was harder because it was the first time the whole fic where i was writing in jeonghan's perspective instead of the readers, and i was trying to properly match the emotions that were driving his actions.

i'll always say it's you is my babyy a lot of emotion went into that story!

thanks for asking jay! here is the rest of the list

[junplusone]

smudged eyeliner and tear streaks

cleaning out my drafts 22

somebody else; original work

dory’s notes: tbh this was written and formatted AGES AGO and idk what it was about anymore so. yeah.

cw: if you have any emotional triggers then maybe. don’t read this one. swearing, angst, self-deprecation, one of the characters is really fucking mean in this, the other is kind of a doormat. allusions to drinking? i think? man idk. not proofread.

wc: i didn’t count this one but it’s short

🎧 saranghey❕dory’s playlist

—

but you never even listen.

and that’s the goddamn problem.

why don’t you listen? because you’re not worth listening to.

the words on her tongue faded, and her once rage-filled form shrank.

she wondered if this was what alice felt like, when she drank that bottle.

she wondered if she should have drank that bottle.

what do you mean by that?

it’s just…

he sighs. she flinches. he doesn’t notice.

i don’t think you’re worth the time. or the effort. not anymore.

that implies that i was. at some point.

but not anymore?

blink. breathe. make sure you’re alive.

no.

unless there’s no point in doing that anymore.

—

taglist: @sousydive @dreamingofpcy @junplusone @mary1618rosie-blog — wanna join my taglist?

[junplusone]

um i've written like Four fics but feel free to ask

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[junplusone]

catch the rain ; boo seungkwan

summary: caught between a political alliance and the possibility of a prolonged freedom, you just can't help the easy lie that slips out of your mouth. now, you're left to deal with the consequences of putting up a front to your family, the court, and the rest of the kingdom.

pairing: boo seungkwan x f!reader

contains: historical/royalty au, childhood best friends to not friends to friends again to lovers, reader's surname is choi because scoups, fake engagement, cheol is married in this, bestie jeonghan coming in clutch

warnings: language/swearing, shady behavior from a dude (ew), mentions of war and blood

word count: 8.53k

a/n: it's finally done! many thanks to ro @shinysobi for beta reading and also jay @ppyopulii for your feedback <3 also this gorgeous gorgeous banner was made by jay too; they're literally a graphic genius & i am so thankful ❤️ i hope you guys enjoy!

tags: @mochacoda @ppyopulii (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!)

“And then there was chaos,” Jeonghan would say if he was here right now.

He wouldn’t be wrong, either. You can almost picture his smirk in your mind – you’re just standing motionlessly, watching as the ministers lose their minds and your father tries to process what you’ve just said for the entire court to hear. 

It has been several minutes since you’ve made the announcement, and there has not been a moment of calmness since then. Of course, you were aware that news of this nature would shock the general public to some extent, but you didn’t think it was that serious.

You watch nervously as your father calls for order, quieting the room down, and then turns to you.

“You are trying to tell me, child,” he says slowly, leaning back against his throne, “that you mean to marry General Boo’s son?”

“Yes.” The lie is bitter on your tongue, but you have no choice but to run with it, albeit a bit awkwardly. “He is the one I want to be with. I… I love him,” you add awkwardly, hoping nobody catches on.

“I see.” 

You must have sounded convincing enough because he doesn’t question you any further. Instead, he just chuckles to himself after a few seconds, relaxing his shoulders. 

“And all this time we were trying to find someone for you, suitor after suitor… Oh, my apologies, Doyun. I suppose your plans are not to come to fruition.”

At the corner of the table, the aforementioned young lord scowls in silence. You shudder, reminded of all the ways he had tried to court you – cornering you in some random hall of the palace and trying to come to your chambers at night. No matter how much you tried, for your father’s sake, you could not see yourself with him.

“Well, I suppose our search for a suitable groom is over,” your father continues, giving you a warm smile. “That is quite the relief, isn’t it?”

“Wait, you’re okay with this?”

“Why would I not be? I have seen the both of you grow from small children into promising adults, and Seungkwan is a good man,” he remarks kindly. “The court may have reservations, but that is irrelevant to me. I have none.”

Minister Park raises his hand tentatively. “But, Your Majesty –”

“Objections will not be heard,” he says, rejoicing merrily. “Let it be said, as far and wide as the kingdom goes. My daughter is to be married!”

It’s evident that the court is displeased with your choice, but they congratulate you regardless, not willing to risk their roles by further irritating the king. You play along as best as you possibly can, all smiles for everyone else. Clearly, your little lie was surprising enough for nobody to suspect a thing.

Doyun approaches you next, bowing slightly while making a face. You return it out of respect, though his mere presence around you is unsettling enough. 

“Congratulations, Your Highness,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Boo Seungkwan must be over the moon, to be engaged to a woman like you.”

Shit. Seungkwan. 

You haven’t even told him yet. How can you justify such a huge lie you let slip in a moment of sheer panic?

How do you deliver news like this to someone you aren’t even on speaking terms with?

“Uh, yes. He is,” you reply, trying to suppress the alarm from reflecting onto your face. “We are very happy. Yes.”

“Yes, that is good,” he says, slightly amused.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay,” you tell him, bowing again. Internally, you grimace a little, trying to prevent the awkwardness of the situation from getting even worse. “And I hope there are no hard feelings, sir. I truly am sorry.”

“Of course not, Your Highness.” He doesn’t look like he believes you, but he accepts the apology nonetheless. You plaster a fake smile on your face until he finally walks away, leaving you by yourself.

“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath, looking for a way out. Your father is attempting to move on to the next topic, settling the court, and you use this moment to leave through the back doors, finally getting some space from all the chaos.

In the silence, the weight of your actions hits you suddenly. God, Seungkwan is going to kill you, you realize, for dragging him into something that isn’t his problem at all.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, assessing your next steps. Seungcheol – you could ask him for advice, although he might lecture you first. But you don’t know who else you could go to right now besides your brother.

Carefully, you slip into the hallway, making your way towards the library. It’s just barely evening, so you’re almost certain Seungcheol will be there. You pray you don’t run into anybody, making sure to stay quiet so nobody spots you away from the meeting you’re supposed to be at.

Immediately after you turn the next corner, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist tightly, pulling you aside.

“Wha– mmf!” Another hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises you make. 

Your brain is on high alert right now, and every single self-defense lesson Jeonghan has given you kicks in as you get dragged into a dark room. You struggle against the firm hold, elbowing your captor and delivering a particularly harsh kick to the inside of their knee in hopes that they’ll let you go.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

You’re about to do it again when you realize the man sounds strangely familiar for some reason. You stop trying to attack him and bite down on the hand that’s covering your mouth instead.

“Ow!” he exclaims again, clearly in pain. You almost feel bad, almost. “What is wrong with you, seriously!”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” you yell back, blindly following the wall to find the light. “I almost thought you were trying to kill me, and you still might be!”

“Why would I try to kill you?!”

The gears in your head start shifting as you finally get the light to work. The bulb illuminates the room as you turn to face the absolute last person you thought you were going to see today.

“Seungkwan,” you breathe, taken aback for a moment. You haven’t spoken to him in so long, and certainly not since he came back to the palace. Of course, you knew he had returned, but between all the things you had to do, you never got the chance to see him. Just looking at him now – his grown-out hair, and bruised knuckles – brings back a multitude of emotions. “What are you doing here?”

He just folds his arms, a deep frown crossing his features. “When were you going to tell me we’re getting married, Y/N?”

Shit. This is exactly the situation you were hoping to avoid. Seungkwan looks pissed off, and rightfully so.

“I’m so sorry,” you rush, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “I was at a court meeting, and everyone was pushing to hear some good news that I just didn’t have, and I just – I don’t know, I don’t know why I said your name first. I really didn’t mean to, Seungkwan, I’m really sorry.”

“So I was just convenient for you,” he says, scowling. “We haven’t spoken to each other in years, and you choose to throw me under the bus?”

“And whose fault is it?” You step closer, glaring up at him and all his audacity. “Whose fault is it that we haven’t spoken? I wrote to you almost every day for a year, and you decided to pretend I didn’t exist!”

“Did you expect me to drop all my responsibilities just for you? I was in the middle of a warzone, Y/N, I had bigger things to worry about than letters from home.”

Those words sting you into silence. Seungkwan has always been one to say things he doesn’t mean during a heated argument, but right now you have no way of knowing what’s actually on his mind.

“This is such a huge mess,” he says again after a few seconds, agitatedly running his hands through his hair. “Everyone thinks we’re actually engaged. We have to fix this somehow.”

“What, do you want me to go back and tell my father there will be no wedding because we hate each other's guts?”

“Ideally, yes.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “Seungkwan, I can’t do that!”

“And what about what I want?” It’s evident that his patience is running out, especially as his jaw tightens and his hands clench into fists. “What about my life? This is a huge decision that you made all by yourself and now I’m dragged into it for no reason other than knowing you!”

He’s right, and you know this, even as you open your mouth to retaliate. It’s certainly not fair; you aren’t even friends for you to rely on him like this right now. It was convenient – maybe that’s why Seungkwan’s name was the first on your tongue when you were being cornered with questions about your marriage.

Now, standing in front of him for the first time in years, you just miss him. You miss how close the two of you used to be, and the way things have changed makes your heart ache.

“I’ll go speak with my father right now,” you decide, peeling your eyes off of him and beelining for the door. “We still have time, we can play it off as a practical joke and pretend we had them all fooled —“

“No, wait, come back,” Seungkwan calls after a second’s hesitation, frowning again. “Don’t do that.”

“I thought you didn’t want this?”

“Absolutely not,” he grimaces, “but you’re going to cause so much trouble if you go and call it off now. Also, you’re almost twenty-five. Do you really think the court won’t push your father to make you marry Baek Doyun for political benefit? That man is a disgusting creep, especially considering all the things he’s done before.”

You narrow your eyes at him upon hearing that last part. “How do you know about that?”

“People talk,” he shrugs. “Never underestimate the palace attendants.”

“Oh, great.”

Seungkwan just observes you for a second. Those eyes have always been the most perceptive, ever since you were little kids. Not many things can get past him.

“Listen,” he starts, a little tentatively, “Baek hasn’t done anything to hurt you, has he?”

“No, never.”

“Good,” he sighs with something akin to relief. “Never liked the guy.”

You don’t question it; you barely have the energy to. Instead, you just lean against the wall, letting your head fall back onto the cement. 

“What do we do now?”

“For starters, we can’t actually get married.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes at him. “You’re acting like I want to be associated with you any more than I already am.”

“Clearly.”

“Shut up, Seungkwan.” 

The quiet reigns for a little while longer as you sit with him and your thoughts. Never in your life would you ever have expected things to come to this. 

“We could keep this going for a while and then say we called the engagement off,” you suggest, musing to yourself. “We could just say we realized we’re better off as friends.”

“Right,” he says under his breath, but you still hear it. Whatever. “That might be our only way out.”

You groan, dropping your head to your hands. “God, this is going to be the longest few months of my life.”

“You’re not the victim here,” Seungkwan reminds you. “I’m the one who got pulled into a relationship that I had no say in.”

There are no words on the tip of your tongue. How are you supposed to tell him you miss him while you’re still on wildly questionable terms? You can't even begin to express how badly you want things to go back to the way they were.

From where you’re standing, you sneak another glance at him. Seungkwan was always beautiful in the way that ceramics are; carefully created but also tangible, so easily slipped into daily life. 

You used to be my best friend, you catch yourself thinking as you watch him fiddle with the hem of his shirt. How did we get here?

“We should go,” you say instead. “I can’t go missing for too long before someone realizes I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

He pulls himself to his feet. “And where are you supposed to be, Your Highness?”

“Not here,” you quip, reaching for the door handle. “I really hope you’re a stellar actor, Seungkwan. Keeping secrets from the palace is far from easy.”

You receive nothing but a dismissive sigh in return. “Worry about yourself, okay? I’ll do just fine.”

Typical, you think, but the truth is that you’ve missed the quick sarcasm that is just so very Seungkwan. 

As you leave the room with him in tow, a sense of trepidation fills the pit of your stomach. All’s well that ends well, right? 

You aren’t sure. Right now, you can only hope that this is one of those things.

There is nobody in the palace that loves you quite like Seungcheol does.

Your father likes to recount the way he used to watch over you when you were learning how to take your first steps, the way he would start bawling if you so much as got a scratch on yourself as a child. Everyone knows he would draw blood for you in a heartbeat, if it ever came to it.

However, that is not evident right now. Instead, he’s giving you a stern look from his spot on his armchair, arms folded in an attempt to look intimidating. Beside him, your sister-in-law Seoyeon is curled up in the bed with her blanket, listening in out of curiosity.

“Let me get this straight,” he says once you’re done talking. “You weren’t engaged two hours ago.”

“Yes.”

“But now you are.”

“Yes.

“To Seungkwan?”

No part of you enjoys having to lie to your brother over something you wish you could just talk to him about, but you genuinely can’t risk a single person finding out about your coverup.

“Yes,” you respond again, wincing internally. 

Seungcheol seems to be slightly taken aback. He takes a long sip of his chamomile tea before saying anything, weighing the situation in his head.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am.”

“You know I just worry about you,” he says gently. “It’s not that I don’t trust you to make your own decisions. I just want you to be happy, no matter what it takes.”

“I will be,” you assure him. “He… he makes me happy.”

It feels wrong to even say that, but it seems to be good enough for Seungcheol, who just gives a small smile at your words. 

“You know, I feel like most of us saw this coming,” he remarks. “Now that I think about it, I’m not that surprised.”

“Really?”

“Well, of course. You two were essentially inseparable when you were younger. Eventually you grew up and had to go off and do your own things, but that kind of bond doesn’t just disappear overnight, does it?”

Oh, he could not be more wrong about that. If Seungkwan was here right now, he’d probably start laughing out loud. 

“Right,” is all you say, mentally folding in on yourself. 

It’s late, and especially after your little altercation with Seungkwan earlier, you’re totally spent. It feels like you’ve lived several months within the span of a few hours. What you need right now is to be wrapped under your covers and block out all of today’s events. 

When you finally bid them goodnight and retreat to your own room, the fatigue hits you like a truck. It takes everything in you to change into your nightclothes and wash up before slipping into bed, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

In the following days, you receive congratulations from nearly everyone, fielding a plethora of questions about the nature of your relationship. The lies come easily in the moment, but you make a mental note to get your story straight with Seungkwan later.

“You two make a dashing couple,” Jiwon, one of your ladies-in-waiting, tells you. “It was always so very obvious the young man was in love with you.”

This stops you in your tracks. “What?”

“Did you not know? There could be no other explanation for the way he looked after you,” she recollects. “Even when you weren’t aware, he was always around.”

Was that true? You have no way of knowing; you don’t remember much from your childhood or your adolescent years. Either way, all you see when he looks at you is years’ worth of resentment built up and settled like molten rock.

The hours you spend with yourself eventually blur into days that morph into weeks. You never see Seungkwan for more than an hour at a time, meeting only in the public eye or to keep each other posted on the situation. 

Somewhere, though, you think you feel the ice melting. His gaze on you is a bit warmer now, less disdainful than the first time you ran into him.

When the hour is late and you are alone, you find yourself toying with the gold band now resting on your finger. Seungkwan had given it to you last week, standing a bit awkwardly under the late afternoon sunlight.

“It was my mother’s,” he’d said quietly. The weight of the moment was enough; nothing else needed to be said as he easily slipped it on you, the metal cool against your skin.

You think about it often. With one sentence, you’ve turned such a meaningful item into a mere facade. There is no love between you and Seungkwan, at least not the way anyone would expect there to be. The relationship feels like a carefully calibrated hourglass. 

The second it’s over, the illusion will break.

The worst of it all is the public appearances, you realize. Like now, in the face of shining lights and endless smiles. This ball is in honor of you and your husband-to-be, your father had told you, but it feels like you’re being made to walk on thumbtacks for the whole kingdom to watch. To top it all off, your dress feels awfully restricting, and you want nothing more than peace and quiet.

Seungkwan is not so far from you, greeting people you can barely remember the names of. He looks painfully good tonight, dark brown hair pushed back in a way you’ve never seen before. His burgundy suit compliments him nicely, and you try to ignore how he’s managed to match certain tones of your dress.

Your eyes drift over to your brother and Seoyeon, calmly sitting at their places and watching the liveliness of the night. Seeing them exist in their own happy bubble makes you mourn what you can’t have. 

“Hey.” You jolt at the light touch of a hand on your shoulder, but upon turning around, it’s just your fiancé. “Doing alright?”

The sudden tenderness has you on edge, but you nod anyway. 

“Do you want to sit?”

“No, I’m okay,” you decline, looking everywhere, anywhere but his eyes. “You should dance, you know. That’s sort of the whole point of this thing.”

“But you’re not dancing,” Seungkwan huffs, lips pulled into a small pout.

“So?”

He looks down at you curiously now, mouth parting ever so slightly. “Why would I dance without you?”

That you don't know how to respond to. It reminds you too much of the way things used to be. A package deal, you used to call yourselves. 

Instead, you simply offer him your hand with a small smile. “Shall we, then?”

The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours sends a rush of heat to your face that you can’t deny. This confuses you, he confuses you.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve had a little too much champagne tonight. You can’t tell which it is, and maybe it’s better that way.

Seungkwan looks a bit nervous as you pull him towards the dance floor, weaving in between swaying couples. You raise your eyebrows at him as if to ask, ‘What’s wrong?’

“I could not tell you the last time I had to do this,” he confesses shyly. “I really can’t dance.”

“All those years in the palace and nobody ever taught you?”

“Not the time.”

“Do as I say and you won’t fall on your face,” you instruct, pulling him a little closer to you. “Now put your right hand on my waist.”

Seungkwan just stares at you blankly. “You want me to what now?”

“Just do it,” you hiss, ignoring your heart doing double time. “Okay, good, just keep mirroring me now. There’s really nothing more to it.”

“Everyone makes this look a lot easier than it is,” he grumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Yes, you are far more nimble with a sword in your hand,” you tease lightly. “Spin me, would you?”

“As you wish,” he relents, twirling you carefully in time with the beat. There are onlookers now, cheering on your semblance of a happy couple, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. The music almost makes you forget everything that’s currently on your mind – no, nothing but the song and Seungkwan’s gentle hold on your waist to think about.

You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Seungkwan freezes, your breath catching on the moment, and the next thing you know he’s stumbling over thin air, trying to keep himself on his feet.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he’s apologizing to the people around him, giving you a pleading look that says I can’t do this. It’s hard to stifle the giggle that escapes your lips, and before you know it, you’re laughing with each other over the silliness of it all.

“You truly do have two left feet,” you remark, following him away from the dance floor. Seungkwan just chuckles in amusement.

“I did warn you before, you just chose not to believe me.”

“Well, my bad for trying to teach you something new today.”

“Trust me, your efforts were likely in vain.” He turns, eyes settling on you. There is something about this angle that makes him look a little ethereal. Maybe it’s the chandelier light illuminating the soft slope of his face.

“What is it?” you ask, when his gaze lingers a little too long. Seungkwan leans a little closer so you can hear him above the surrounding commotion. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, a tad delicately. “The maroon is a very nice color on you.”

“Oh. Thank you,” comes your unwieldy reply to the compliment that you weren’t expecting. “You clean up rather nicely, too.”

He was never good at taking any sort of flattery, and you recall this as you watch a light pink slowly coat his cheeks. It’s cute, you almost think, before kicking yourself for the stray notion.

“Your Lord Baek has been eyeing us all night,” he informs you, shedding his suit coat. “For what, I have no idea, but it’s a little weird, no?”

You scowl at him. “He’s not mine, don’t say that.”

“He would have been if it wasn’t for me ending up as your sacrificial lamb,” he points out, and you can’t argue against that. “I have half a mind to go over there and cause a scene.”

Your eyes widen with alarm. “Seungkwan, don’t do that!”

“I won’t,” he promises reluctantly, but you can tell it’s still bothering him for whatever reason. “When’s he leaving, anyway?”

“A few weeks, maybe?” You can’t remember exactly, but you must have overheard him speaking to your father about it a while ago. “In any case, soon. And thank god for it.”

Seungkwan hums in agreement, fingers idling on the edge of the table. He looks good in his vest, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. You realize you like how his arms fill out the sleeves, unassumingly strong under the light fabric.

He takes another sip of his wine, pulling a face at the flavor, and looks at you with an impish glint in his eyes. “Do you want to leave?”

You give him a look. “Are you suggesting sneaking away from my own party?”

“Well, you definitely don’t look like you want to be here,” he notes, and he couldn’t be more correct. It makes you wonder how he still knows you so well after all this time. “So is that a yes, or…?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, already rising. “Please. Let’s get out of here.”

“Called it,” Seungkwan smirks, picking up his jacket and following as you slip through the crowd unnoticed. Your fingers just barely brush amidst the chaos, and you resist the urge to reach back and pull him along with you. 

The balcony is freeing, the gentle night breeze refreshing on your face. It’s a little cold, but you don’t really mind it just yet, ignoring it for the lovely view you’re taking in right now. 

“Feeling better?”

“A little.” You turn and look at him, mirroring your stance as he leans on the railing, observing you quietly. “Seungkwan, I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows raise in confusion as if to say, ‘What for?’

“All of this,” you say, vaguely gesturing towards the ballroom you’ve just left behind. “It’s a lot, and you didn’t ask for it.”

Seungkwan doesn’t meet the apologetic gaze you cast on him, stray strands of hair escaping his well-styled bangs. 

“It’s not the worst,” he points out. “Your father and brother don’t dislike me, which is what I was most worried about.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, astonished. “That should be the least of your worries. They might like you more than me, honestly.”

He just laughs to himself, cheeks pink. “It’s nice of you to say that. Makes it a little easier to continue the act until our fake divorce.”

“We’re not married yet,” you remind him.

“Ah, right.”

It’s so easy to slip into a comfortable silence with Seungkwan, it always has been. You are not a woman of many words, and you like being able to bask in the quiet without constantly thinking of something new to say. 

In a way, not much has changed.

“So,” he starts, “how are we breaking this news to everyone?”

“I hadn’t thought that far yet,” you confess, pondering. “But everything’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it? A few months ago I was sort of doing my own thing and now I’m engaged to a guy who hates me.”

Seungkwan looks at you sharply, a peculiar expression on his face. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, you know.”

“I’m being honest,” he insists, taking a step closer to you in earnest. “Was I upset when I found out what happened? Yeah, of course. Was it awkward that that was how we reconnected after a long time apart? Sure. But I can never, in good conscience, say that I hate you.” 

“That is certainly a relief,” is what you come up with after struggling for a few seconds. “Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this. At least you can enjoy the status of prince consort-to-be for a while,” you joke.

Seungkwan just frowns. “Y/N, I don’t care about the title. I care about you.”

The abrupt confession catches you off guard, more than you’d like to admit. You don’t know what to say to that, but you believe every word.

“We’ve been friends for so many years,” he continues with a soft smile. “You aren’t just anyone to me.”

Oh, you wish you had a wine glass in your hand right now. You can’t be sober for this, you think, as you return his warm demeanor while a strange feeling settles in your stomach.

“Good to know,” you manage. “That does ease my mind a little.”

“I’m glad.”

Seungkwan’s eyes shine under the moon’s soft glow. It takes you back to when you were a little girl, so hesitantly enamored by him and his heartfelt presence in your life. The wind stings your eyes, blowing away the memory, and then he is asking you if you want to go back inside.

“Go ahead,” you tell him, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

He lingers beside you still, like he’s wondering whether to insist or not. You place a careful hand on his arm.

“I just need a few minutes more of fresh air,” you explain. “I’ll join you soon, I promise.”

Wordlessly, he nods, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your own. His fingertips barely graze your skin, but for some reason, you are hyper-aware of it.

“Stay warm,” he says, voice tinged with concern. “Please don’t catch a cold.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” He smiles again, a sun in the night’s darkness. 

The moment is tender, like if you don’t reach out and grab it, it’ll slip through your fingers. You refrain from saying anything in response as he leaves you to yourself, looking over your shoulder as he walks away.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you,” you murmur softly, but Seungkwan is already gone.

The day Jeonghan returns, there is a downpour from hell.

You’ve been cozying up in your usual nook of the library as it rains outside, curled up in one of the large armchairs with a rather interesting novel in your lap. Engrossed in the pages, you don’t notice anything amiss until you hear a familiar, silvery voice near your ear.

“Miss me yet, Your Highness?”

The sudden greeting almost has you jumping, and your first instinct is to turn around and slam your heavy book into the man’s face.

“Ow!” Jeonghan clutches his nose, face contorted in pain. Seungkwan stands behind him, leaning on a bookshelf and watching the scene with amusement. “What was that for?!”

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know it was you!” You rise to your feet, checking him for any signs of serious injury. “You know I have violent reflexes, you knew better than to do that!”

“I come home from war and the first thing you do is attack me?!”

Seungkwan just shrugs from his spot. “Don’t look at me. I told him not to do it.”

“Very helpful,” Jeonghan huffs, poking and prodding at his now swollen nose. “What a warm welcome the two of you are giving me, really, considering how few and far between our reunions are.”

You soften at that, going in for a long overdue hug. He smells of rusted metal and fresh soil, likely from his long time spent on the battlefield. His hair is longer now, tied back and out of his face with a simple cloth string, and he looks a little more weary than last time.

Every time you see him again, he has changed somewhat, but also not quite at all. There will always be that inkling of mischief in his eye until the day he dies.

“So,” Jeonghan says, still nursing his sore nose, “the second I leave the kingdom is when you two decide to get engaged, huh?”

You and Seungkwan exchange a look that’s somewhere between surprise and alarm. He shakes his head ever so slightly, answering the question you didn’t need to ask. 

No, not just yet.

“And you didn’t even write to me!” Jeonghan sulks, giving the two of you a betrayed look. “I can’t believe you had the gall to fall in love and not tell me about it.”

“Um…” You are not quite sure what to say to that, considering it wasn’t what happened at all. “Surprise?”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not so shocked. I knew this was bound to happen at some point.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Seungkwan grumbles.

“Because it’s true! Don’t you know that Y/N here used to – Ow! Again?!”

You glare at Jeonghan as he recovers from your swift punch. “Keep your mouth closed and I might not attack you a third time.”

“You are insane,” he scolds you, massaging his arm. “I don’t even see what the problem here is.”

As a last desperate effort, you implore him with pleading eyes to stay silent. He doesn’t look like he understands what’s going on, but he relents anyway, leaving the subject of your childhood crush alone.

“What?” Seungkwan laughs, eyes darting between the both of you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out, a little too fast. Jeonghan has to physically look down to conceal the laugh that’s threatening to bubble out of his throat at any moment, and you can tell. “Seungkwan, shouldn’t you be at training right now, anyways?”

“Well, yes, but Jeong–”

One pointed look from you is enough to silence him, it’s almost funny. “Yes ma’am,” he gives in ruefully. “I suppose I’ll see you after I get beat up to the point of exhaustion, then. Visit me on my deathbed.”

“Seungkwan, you’ll be fine.”

After a bit of grumbling, he finally leaves – you wait until he’s out of earshot before fixing Jeonghan with a pointed glare.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you little bastard.”

“Now that is hardly appropriate language for a princess,” he remarks, promptly receiving a well-aimed smack from you.

“I can’t believe you were about to reveal everything just then!”

“Why are you so pressed about it? He’s literally your fiancé!” Jeonghan’s face falls a little at your prolonged silence. “Oh. There is something you’re not telling me.”

“You’re either going to be so mad or you will laugh at me,” you say truthfully.

“I really hope it’s the latter. Please don’t hit me again,” he adds, ready to dodge you. “Alright, what is it?”

“Well, Seungkwan and I…” You wince, trying to word this correctly. “We aren’t actually engaged.”

Jeonghan just stares at you, confused. “What? But you’ve got a ring and everything!”

“I know,” you sigh, absentmindedly fiddling with the golden band, “but it’s all fake.”

He blinks once, then again, still processing. “So there will be no wedding?”

“Nope. We’re planning on calling it off right after Doyun departs.”

“Who’s that?”

“Long story.”

“I have time.”

Where do you even start? The past month and a half has been such a chaotic blur that you don’t know what to begin with. Agitated, you put your head in your hands, tugging at your hair. 

“You’re frustrated,” Jeonghan observes.

“Nice one, genius.”

“You know,” he says conversationally, “I don’t think you would be so upset if you didn’t have any feelings.”

You raise your head, distraught. “Feelings about what?”

Jeonghan gives you a look. “I think you know exactly who I'm talking about.”

His words take no more than a couple of seconds to click, gears shifting in your brain. You pin him with a stern glare.

“I do not like Seungkwan.”

“I didn’t even say it was Seungkwan,” he replies, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

“But you were thinking it!”

“Well, you are not a psychic.”

A part of you wonders if you should never have confessed to your inconsequential crush all those years ago. After all, it had just been a result of confusing feelings at a young age, when you were just learning what being in love felt like.

But things are different now. You and Seungkwan have comfortably fallen back into your friendship, and it’s as easy as breathing. The last thing you need is old emotions resurfacing and ruining it all.

“That was a long time ago,” you say, not sure if you’re trying to convince Jeonghan or yourself. “It’s not like that anymore. Either way, I’m not sure how often I’ll see him after this whole thing is over.”

“More than you will see me,” he quips. “Really, Y/N, you know that he cares very much about you.”

“He didn’t talk to me when he was away for years,” you sulk.

He’s quiet – you know it’s because you’re right, and neither of you have an explanation for a question only Seungkwan can answer. 

But in the days that follow, Jeonghan’s words echo in your mind. You see Seungkwan less and less; every time you run into him, he seems to have an excuse on the tip of your tongue, and you can’t help but wonder what has happened.

You don’t say anything, though, with fear that you might scare him away if you bring it up. Instead, you leave it be, letting him stay at arm’s length and ignoring the dull ache you feel when he’s not around.

And sometimes, you wonder whether Jeonghan might have been onto something. The idea keeps you up at night, into the hours just before daylight knocks on your window. 

One night in particular has you strangely restless, unable to fall asleep even though the clock reads half past four in the morning. Your room feels awfully stuffy, like you’re cornered into one place, and the sudden need for fresh air overcomes you. Exhausted, you pull on some warmer clothes before slipping into the hall, heading for the gardens near the extensive training grounds.

You used to come here all the time when you were younger, too, always your safe haven. There is something about being surrounded by nature that puts you at ease. Like now, as you settle in your spot on the bench, chin in the palm of your hand.

However, your peace is abruptly interrupted at the sound of careful footsteps. You turn, and grimace at the sight of your unwelcome visitor. 

“It seems quite unsafe for a young woman to be out alone at this time,” Doyun says, approaching you slowly. 

“The palace is fairly secure, sir,” you reply curtly. “I wonder what you are doing roaming around before the sun is even up.”

“I am set to depart at dawn,” he informs you, taking a seat as well. Instinctively, you move over to put space between you and him. 

“Then I wish you a safe journey.”

There is an uncanny, knowing smile on his face. “Although, I might not need to leave so soon,” he drawls, “if I still have the opportunity to fulfill what I originally came here for.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“I have to admit, you and your friend play the part of a happy couple amusingly well. Almost had me fooled,” he says. “But every act has a weak link.”

“Sir, this isn’t what you think it is –”

“Oh, but it’s exactly that. And it was a smart plan, too. It’s such a shame you couldn’t see it through.”

You fold in on yourself, somewhat of a shield against the early morning breeze. “What are you trying to say?”

“Just that your father might appreciate a heads up about your little arrangement.” The expression he’s wearing fills you with dread. “Don’t you think he deserves to know what’s happening under his nose?”

“Nothing is happening,” you reiterate. “Don’t involve yourself in things that do not require your input.”

“Does this not involve me?” he asks incredulously, shifting closer. “I’ve traveled all this way only to be abruptly shoved aside for a farce. Do you not think it’s unfair?”

You open your mouth to retaliate, but you’re beat to it.

“Get up.”

Seungkwan is, for lack of a better word, seething. His face is pulled into that serious frown he wears whenever he’s particularly displeased. You stand slowly, slightly confused as to how he knew you were here.

“No, not you,” he says, eyes softening as they flicker over to you for just a second. “Do I have to tell you twice? Get up.”

Doyun rises to his feet, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. “Is that how you speak to your guests?”

“Yes. Particularly those who wear out their welcome.” 

The tension is thick in the air. The feeling of being caught red-handed has somewhat settled, but you have no way of knowing what’s going to happen next.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Doyun snickers. “You are just a soldier boy with nothing to your name.”

“He’s much more than that,” you say sharply, “and I pity your ignorance to the fact.”

“Come on, Y/N –”

“That’s my fiancée you’re talking to. You will address her properly,” Seungkwan cuts in. His voice is harsh, and his anger is evident through the glare he’s currently sporting. “You are not fit to even speak her name.”

Caught up in the conversation, you hadn’t realized how much time has passed, but the first few rays of sunlight are beginning to peek out over the horizon. It’s getting a little warmer now, the gardens bathed in the minimal sunshine. 

Doyun just shakes his head. “You two are impossible to reason with,” he says. “If you cannot clearly see how bad of an idea this is, Your Highness, then I suppose I will have to cut my losses. But don’t expect any sort of cooperation if you find yourself running back.”

“Fine by me,” you snap, tired of the conversation already..

It’s almost comical, the way that he walks away with a vindictive air about him. You don’t even clock the sigh of relief you let out when his silhouette disappears in the morning fog, sinking back into the wooden bench.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan takes the first hesitant step towards you, then another. You just scowl up at him in annoyance.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” you say menacingly. “I can’t believe you’ve been avoiding me for so long and this is how you resurface again.”

“I wasn’t –”

“Please, Seungkwan, I’ve had a long day and the sun is barely even up yet.” You rub your temples, a headache already starting to form. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“You’re always here.” He says it simply, like it’s just a fact of life. “I saw you on my way to the training grounds, but you weren’t alone, so I just wanted to see what was going on,” he grimaces, “and I’m glad I did.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I hope pretending to care about me has made you feel infinitely better about yourself.”

Seungkwan frowns. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I don’t hate you until you finally believe me?” He looks at you pleadingly, but what exactly he’s asking of you, you can’t really tell. “Do you honestly think I would have played along all this time if I disliked you at all?”

“Seungkwan, I’m tired.” You put your head in your hands, overwhelmed. “Doyun will be gone in a couple of hours, so you can pull out of this anytime you want.”

“Y/N –”

“Please.”

It’s ironic how even through your various disagreements it’s easy to understand each other’s unfinished sentences. Seungkwan releases a pained exhale.

“Fine,” he says softly. “We’ll talk later.”

A part of you feels guilty that no matter how much time or space you’ve needed, he has always been ready to give it to you, and all you do is take. Maybe after a few hours’ rest you’ll feel up to speaking to him again, you think, watching his retreating figure with a dull ache in your chest. 

The sun is up, and the morning dew is long gone. You have no choice but to face another day.

“You’re the biggest idiot to ever walk this earth.”

Those had been Yoon Jeonghan’s parting words to you. You felt like you might cry as you hugged him tightly, hoping he’d carry the fond memories through the next several months he would be away. Seungkwan had stood a little behind the two of you, just out of earshot, though you knew he was trying not to tear up, too.

“You might be right,” you mumbled, eyes on the ground. “It’s all going to crash and burn, and then he and I will never speak again.”

“Well, you never know. But if you don’t do anything about it, I will personally come find you and hunt you down.” Jeonghan chuckled, a tiny twinkle in his eye. “When I come back, you better have married the man for real.”

“Jeonghan!”

He had just laughed, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Trust me, Your Highness. I have a good sixth sense about these things.”

That had been several hours ago, and your last real conversation with Seungkwan was even further in the past. 

Things had gotten busy, and between the days that whirled by the two of you hadn’t properly talked. And it stings, knowing the distance between you and your best friend is slowly growing, but you don’t even know if he wants to hear from you right now.

There are so many things you want to say and not enough words. The emotions dance on the tip of your tongue, but no further. But for how long now?

No. 

You toss your book aside in frustration. Enough of the constant restlessness and anxiety; you can’t keep living like this, you realize, hoarding all the things you feel in your brain. The sudden burst of courage has you on your feet, nearly sprinting to your door.

When you open it, Seungkwan is already standing there.

“Oh,” you blurt out. His arm is still raised to the door, as if he was just about to knock, and his feet are frozen to the ground in front of you. He looks a little disheveled, like he’s been running. “Come in?”

Seungkwan hesitates for just a second before following you through the doorway. “Thank you,” he says gently. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“No, you weren’t,” you say, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Did you need something?”

There is a moment’s silence. The words he hasn’t said yet hang suspended in the air, and you wait for them apprehensively.

“I figured we should come out with the truth now,” he says slowly, eyes darting everywhere but you. “You know, now that there aren’t any more reasons not to.”

You can’t put a name to the rush of emotion in your body. You should be relieved right now. Why aren’t you? A deep trepidation fills you instead, settling in your bones, but you don’t dare to put your finger on the reason behind it. 

“Right,” you say curtly. “We probably should.”

Seungkwan sighs, the exhaustion evident in his rounded shoulders. He pulls the stool he’s sitting on closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your wrist.

“It’s for the best,” he assures you. “You heard what Baek Doyun said that day.”

You’re already shaking your head before he finishes the sentence. “No, Seungkwan, he’s wrong.”

“You deserve every good thing in this universe,” he tells you, “every beautiful moment that exists in time. But I can’t give that to you, no matter how much I wish I could, and it hurts to be near you when it’s all so very impossible.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the honest, tender words. “What are you saying?”

Seungkwan smiles ruefully. “I am just the son of a soldier, Y/N. I have nothing more to offer you than the blood on my hands.”

“That is not true,” you say earnestly. “If it were, you know my father would never have agreed to all of this.”

“I don’t care about your father’s approval!” The words leave his mouth with a burst of frustration that surprises you. “The only opinion I choose to worry about is yours. You have to know that.”

“Why?”

The look in his eyes is one you could never forget – it’s vulnerable, with a hint of something else you can’t quite place. It scares and exhilarates you at the same time.

“Please don’t make me answer that question,” he whispers softly, mere inches from your face.

Something propels you to reach forward wordlessly, your hands gently cradling Seungkwan’s face. Come here, your fingertips say. Let me heal you. Come home.

Slowly, carefully, you bring your mouth to his. It’s everything one would think it shouldn’t be — hesitant, nerve wracking — but it’s right. 

When you pull away, he’s looking at you in awe.

“You just kissed me,” he says incredulously.

You reach for him, taking his hand in yours. It’s calloused and rough, and yet it feels just right against your own smooth palm.

“If the only thing you can give me is the blood on your hands,” you murmur, “then I gladly accept.”

For all of the next few seconds, Seungkwan does not move. And then, you feel his fingers encircling your wrist, his other hand coming up to carefully hold the back of your neck.

The kiss is both searing and soothing, somehow. He tastes faintly of tangerines, the citrus flavor tangy on your mouth, and his lips are impossibly soft as they move against yours. You could freeze time and stay here forever, you think, in the arms of a man who knows you like it’s the only way home. It’s something strangely akin to heaven on earth.

“I hope you meant every second of that,” you tell him, when you come up for air.

Seungkwan smiles — a bright, gorgeous thing that could put even the sun to shame. 

“Every second,” he answers. It’s a promise. “Every moment in time. For as long as you will let me.”

Dear Jeonghan,

You will be elated to know that I am no longer the idiot you proclaimed I was. Sure, I was being a little stupid, but aren’t we all sometimes? And you can’t say you aren’t, because I have many stories to prove you wrong.

In other news, Seungkwan and I have called off our engagement. For the time being, at least. We wanted to have some time to just be, you know? Take this relationship at our own pace, and make up for all the lost time we had spent dancing around each other instead. It turns out we were equally apprehensive about our feelings and ended up avoiding each other for weeks on end, can you believe that? 

Actually, you probably can. I bet you knew how he felt this whole time, you devil.

You know, I was a little afraid to tell Father and Seungcheol the truth, but they were quite understanding about it. It feels lighter now, too, without this secret to carry. You were right.

It’s summer now, and most everything seems right with the world. Only thing left is having you back here — Seungkwan will never say it to your face, but he complains about missing you nearly every day, as do I. 

Anyways, I’ll try and keep this short. Come back safely, okay? When Seungkwan and I do eventually start planning our wedding, we want you to be there for it. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

Okay, I will really leave you to it this time. Write us back when you can; it is always wonderful to hear from you.

Lots of love, 

Y/N (and Seungkwan!)

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading, your support means a lot to me! much love, ashi xx

[junplusone]

NO IDEA i've always just pirated shows

if i speak, they'll have me committed.

[junplusone]

choosing to apologize rn for the person i will be after i watch this show

if i speak, they'll have me committed.

[junplusone]

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[junplusone]

WGHAT EMOJI DO U WANNA BE

hi ryn !!! ooh can i be the duck emoji pls 🦆 i love birds so much

[junplusone]

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[junplusone]

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