#don’t ever let me draw that many bricks by hand ever again pls

[handwrittenhello]

in honor of the wettest game i’ve ever played here’s corvo crawling off into a sewer tunnel to die alone or something

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[uwurakax]

boy, i hate you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: you swore to yourself that you’d never stay with a cheater, so why was it so hard to let go? ♡

♡ the sequel “boy, i need you” - read the second part here ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: ok this has been in my mind for ages now and i need this to go into the universe. i haven’t written in years so i am crappy rusty as hell (pls be kind ty). i don’t normally write but i had to. i also believe theres no gender mentioned? (it’s like 4am and i’ve had zero sleep so pls), but i suppose it leans to f!reader. i’ll regret uploading this later haha 🤟😭 also hasn’t been proofread and i wrote this at like 1am (excuses for my terrible writing yup, don’t judge me haha) ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

infidelity

/ɪnfɪˈdɛlɪti/

noun

1. the action or state of being unfaithful to a spouse or partner

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with your eyes red and wet was not an uncommon occurrence. You supposed at one point, it was, but those days felt like a distant dream. You had cried so much, it was a wonder you could keep up the waterworks. Your eyes were swollen, bloodshot and dry. The moisture had left them and were spilled, half dry, on your cheeks. 

It was pathetic. So pathetic how you could keep putting yourself through this. Day after day, breakdown after breakdown, you didn’t know how much more you could take. You quickly wiped away any more stray tears with the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing.  His hoodie. 

You wondered how much liquid had been soaked up by his clothes. An ironic display of him comforting you indirectly when he was the one who caused those tears to spill in the first place.

You took a deep inhale and leaned over the porcelain countertop. It felt wrong. It felt awkward. It felt..dirty. You gripped the sides of the counter. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it all went wrong, it was just like it happened. Or maybe it didn’t, and it was there long before you had taken notice of the signs. 

All you knew was that suddenly, he wasn’t yours anymore. The home you shared with him wasn’t yours. Hell, even this goddamn pristine white bathroom wasn’t yours. For the past year or so, it was slowly losing the essence of you and him, and somehow converged into a you, him and her. You wondered if it just lost your sense entirely and had become his and hers - you being just a warm body that filled the cold space when he was gone, whether that be at work or when he had to take a ‘trip’. 

You were so sick of it. All the insecurity of when it started, why weren’t you enough, how’d it happen, and all those basic questions associated with a partner cheating were bubbling up inside of you. 

You wanted to push all the blame on him. You wanted to hate him, despise him for reducing you to the pathetic crying mess you were now, but you couldn’t. You knew, deep down inside, at some point it stopped being entirely his fault and that it shifted to you as well. Was it a week after you found out? A month? 3 months? 6 months? A year? Did it even matter anymore? You knew you had to stop this. You had to break it off with Akaashi. His unfaithfulness hurt you in a way that you couldn’t possibly imagine. You couldn’t keep living with the fact that he’d come home into your arms, holding you in the same way that he had just held somebody else. Somebody not you. Somebody who wasn’t his girlfriend. Geez, just how many times were you going to repeat that to yourself? You’d lost count on how many speeches and psych up’s that frequented your mind. 

This will be the last time. 

A silent promise to yourself, that this would be the end. That you’d finally pick yourself up, and gain some self confidence to just rip off that bandaid. No matter how much you loved him, no matter how long you had loved him, you had to do this for your sake. With a firm nod, you braced yourself, ready to finally free yourself from the love that was Akaashi Keiji. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had been a few hours since your breakdown in the bathroom happened. You were anticipating Akaashi’s arrival for the past hour or so. You knew exactly why he was late, it didn’t take a genius to know that he was with her. You wished that just for tonight, he wouldn’t. The suspense was suffocating. You just wanted to get this over and done with.

Not even the soft material of the pillows on the lounge you sat on calmed you. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through the plush texture, hoping to quell the dread and unease steadily rising with each passing moment that Akaashi didn’t enter through the front door. After what felt like forever, you finally heard his car coming into the driveway, the headlights peeking through the blinds. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. It did little to slow your racing heartbeat. You got up to greet him when the jingle of his keys echoed through the silent space that was ‘your home’, as he had put it the first time you entered into the building. Thats all it was to you now. A mix of brick and cement that no longer held the warmth that it once had, or perhaps it still did. Maybe that radiating glow just wasn’t for you anymore. 

“Keiji..”

“Hello my love” he was quick, or you were just too slow. Either way, his arms had found their way around you, pulling you close into his body. You couldn’t deny that your own craved his, fitting just a little too well, like jigsaw puzzle pieces. At one point it was relieving. At one point it would have brought you immense comfort. 

At one point it would have felt right. 

However at this moment in time, it didn’t. Maybe for a split second, you could’ve deluded yourself into thinking he was only yours, and you were only his. That sense of peace was gone in an instant when you smelt the pungent perfume of her on him. It clung to him desperately, and would soon dissipate throughout the house. The sickly sweet floral smell invading whatever little nook and cranny it could. Pushing out the fresh air.

Pushing out you.

It just further pressed the need to end things with him. Neither of you were happy in your relationship now.

For your sake and for his, you needed to do this quickly. 

You pulled away from him, hands on his chest. You had to force yourself to look at his face. It was time, you needed that bandaid off now. But when you searched his profile, you couldn’t see any other emotion but pure admiration.

Pure love.

Your breath hitched. Though it was when his hands made their way up to cup your cheeks that your body lost all rationality. Your heart now pumping quickly and loudly for a completely different reason. He slowly leaned in close and you instinctively closed your eyes. Soon enough, his lips were against yours. Soft you thought to yourself, but you could taste it. The underlying taste of something sweet. It was artificial, and definitely not Akaashi. 

God it hurt. It hurt, unbelievably so. 

His hands moved down and rested on your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly. You both parted from each other, and this time, you decided to look into his eyes.

Gunmetal Blue.

It perfectly matched his beautiful face, and you knew you could get lost just staring into them. It honestly wasn’t fair how easily everything about him could just draw you in.

But you hated how he looked at you now. Like you held the stars in his sky. Like you were the most important person to him. It could almost make you sick, the gaze he had on you. How could he look at you like this? How could he touch you like that? How could he kiss you with such furore when he was just with somebody else, doing the exact same things that he was doing to you?

It just hurt. You never even got a chance to voice your thoughts on his infidelity, on the other woman, on anything. Because soon enough you found yourself led into the bedroom. Had he made love with that woman on the very bed you shared with him? There’s no way you could fool yourself into thinking that that space was sacred anymore. The sheets, the pillows, the mattress. All of it had been tainted. Much like everything else on this house. Contaminated with her touch when you were away and he had to stay home. Everywhere. Every surface, every room, hell every inch just had a lingering scent of her. 

Disgusting. Filthy. Soiled.

All those thoughts were washed away when Akaashi pulled you into the bed. Clothes now discarded haphazardly on the floor, easily forgotten. He gently brushed stray hairs away from your face and just observed you for a moment. He watched you with a smile, and you could reminisce back on your high school days. How was it that Akaashi Keiji, the sweet, shy and most amazing guy was doing something so horrible behind your back? You couldn’t understand. He was such a gentleman, so respectful and kind. So how? How could he do it so easily. 

He pulled you in, lips connecting once again. You knew it was wrong. To fall back into him would just lead you back into the spiral of pain and heartbreak. And yet, here you were, doing that exact thing. 

Because when he looked at you in that regard, when he touched you in the way that set your body ablaze, when he kissed you with such emotion and love, you could pretend that, just for a short period of time, that it was all just for you and only you. You could forget about the other woman. Could forget about all the thoughts of all the things he’d do with her. Forget the marks that he left on her, the same way he did you. 

You’d think of the consequences later, like you always did, because during these moments was when your heart didn’t ache so much, and you didn’t need to be left with your own intrusive thoughts. Here, like this, right now, you could just be two people together. Pretend that he did love you unconditionally.

Pretend that everything was okay. 

You knew tomorrow you’d regret it. Wake up in his arms and sob about how much of a coward you were to walk away. 

This will be the last time.

How many times had you repeated that phrase only to continue this toxic cycle? It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. You hated Akaashi, but you hated yourself more, because you knew that you’d always lose yourself to him. Like a puppet master with the strings, you were pushed and pulled to his desire. 

You now lay in bed, with the covers over you both, and his hand rubbing a soothing trail up and down your arm. You wondered if this would’ve been a good time to do it. To cut your loses and go.

But..

Akaashi scooted over towards you, his hand now finding its way behind your head. His own now angled to press a delicate kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes, willing the tears to not show. 

“I love you”

..you could never do it.

With a small, sad smile (hoping that the darkness of the night shielded the pain from him), you whispered the words that contradicted everything you had been feeling.

“I love you too”

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You knew tomorrow you’d go through the same process. You knew you’d feel the same anger, frustration and ache. Knew that you’d put on one of his shirts or hoodies on for any sense of comfort. Knew that you’d cry and get lost in your thoughts. Knew that you’d swear that this was the last time this would ever happen. 

And deep down, you knew that you’d never really do it, because you’d fall right back into loving Akaashi Keiji again, just like all those times before.

[twixtandshout]

Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.

...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.

How many works do you have on AO3?

71!

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

...306,834. Jesus.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).

Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen. 

I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.

2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”

3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.

4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.

5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.

Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;

Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread. 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.

Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist

I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.

As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.

[katsmonsterblog]

Sunflowers in the Cemetery pt 1

OMG okay so... I feel like I have to post this now. If i don’t then this will probably be a full blown novel... and I mean I wouldn’t complain but I have literally been working on this for months. 

So this is a story about two of my OCs :D how they met actually. At over 5k words and 13 pages long, its one of my longest works and I’m so super proud of it you guys.  I came to a stopping point and...While the story isn’t fully done, I’ve decided to make it a part one of however many (pls don’t kill me ;-;) 

Its a bit pg13, mentions of sex and cursing

If you like this then please support me on Ko-fi! And check out my commissions page and my masterlist :) 

Anyways! Enjoy!  

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Music pumped through the speakers around the club, vibrating the wood of the floor and bar, a pulsating beat that made you want to grind and sway and move. Well, the music only helped add to the atmosphere of sex on the dance floor, in truth, there was something else that seemed to be at play here. There weren’t many places like this in a smaller city like this one, and it definitely wasn’t the alcohol that brought the demon here. No, it was definitely the sex. A hand clapped him on the back and took his predatory gaze from the crowd of writhing bodies. “You know Andras, I don’t much like demons in my place of business but for you I’ll always make an exception.” The male beside him was a friend of a friend’s, and his club wasn’t one that especially catered to the supernatural, more a way to get food if you were invited to prowl and were smart about it, though Liam had never expressly liked his kind. “Is it because I’m pretty Liam?” Andras smirked, sipping whiskey that would never get him drunk. “Or is it because when I’m here you make more money than you know what to do with?” He batted his eyes as the vampire laughed, flashing his fangs and then leaning into him. “Both. Are you hungry tonight Andi? Cuz I’m starving..” Liam purred, green eyes flashing red, a spark within the depths, and having little effect on the incubus. Andras in turn smiled, though his own deep blue gaze was hard, and rolled his neck….a tease for the male and a little something more. Around them it seemed like the humans grew frenzied in their grinding, the aura of lust rising. Prince was only a title he had once held, but it was a title and a bloodline in itself and Andras came from a rare breed of Incubi, his power and aura like another part of him. Like breathing. It flowed out over the crowd of humans, heightening their touch, their lust... “Don’t call me Andi….but yes I could most definitely go for.... a bite...” He responded with a wicked smile as he looked out to the crowd once more and caught the shy gaze of adoration on a younger male, human but very willing. Ah he knew that look, one that said, ‘oh please come here and wreck me.’ Who was he to deny that wish? “I’ll catch you later Liam.” He said as he slid off his barstool, the picture of liquid heat and raw sex and ...gods help the multitude of humans he’d burn through tonight. True that he could feed on just the lust in the room, the arousal, but it was like water to a starving man. Empty calories, and not only that but it would take longer, even through chaste touch, as skin to skin heightened his ability to use his power. It was so unsatisfying.

Tonight he wanted a full course meal... ~~~~~~~~~~

It was as dawn was just peeking out over the city that Andras slipped out the door of whatever apartment he’d been in, a lit cigarette in his mouth, and pulled on his leather jacket. Not that he needed it, it wasn’t particularly cold and the rain from the night before had stopped, but he had to blend in. He looked human for all intents and purposes, if only a little punk rock for most people’s tastes, fishnets and leather and piercings. 

He took a deep breath of nicotine and tar, not caring about the smell or taste really, it didn’t harm him, but it took the edge off. The humans he'd left in the apartment upstairs were spent, but alive. They'd likely be drained, and deliciously sore, for a few days.  As much as he was down for cuddles after… he shook himself from those thoughts, frowning and turning towards the street. Humans were clingy...and weak… he couldn’t be around them for long without them being addicted to him. Literally. It wasn’t his ego talking either, humans were known for becoming addicted to the use of his power, to the touch and taste of him, to the point they grew mad and fanatic. He had just decided to disappear, a demon’s way of teleporting that they called ‘smoking out’, when movement caught his eye. 

Really, there weren’t many people up at this time of day, so when he turned to see someone staring at him from across the street, he halted. He couldn’t tell why it shocked him at first, people stared at him a lot, but it had always been lust and awe. This wasn’t that, instead she stared at him as though she were staring through him, like she knew him. She was dressed cute, in cuffed jeans and a sunflower blouse, her hair a mess of red curls and something about her heart shaped face and wide eyes screamed innocence. But as soon as she saw that he was also staring, turned in a hurry with her bike and pedalled off. 

He should leave that alone.. really, because from what he could sense in that instant, she was human. But the way she looked at him, could she somehow see him for what he truly was? He blew out a cloud of smoke and tossed the cigarette. This was fucking stupid, it was just some fucking human.

But even as he thought that, he followed after her.

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

Holy cow biscuits. He saw her.... Didn’t he? She knew him, the demon.. Well she didn’t know him really.. But she’d seen him. She’d seen him before she ever saw him. It was difficult to describe, how she knew things before they happened, how faces stuck in her mind only for her to come across them in real life. How her powers were a curse, not a gift, and often not helpful at all.Especially when it all but invited the demon to see her too...

Cassie winced at her own train of thought as she coasted her bike around the corner and looked both ways before she rode across the street to the one lane road that would take her to her favorite painting spot. Forest Grove Cemetery was old, one that the city had stopped using a while back, but it was still visited and kept clean, filled with old statuary and wildflowers and moss. It was odd, but she always felt at peace here. Today, she had all day to paint, she’d brought her materials and a backpack of packed lunch, snacks and water,  but now… 

She looked behind her as she parked her bike near the entrance gate, sure that she’d do so at some point and see ...him. It was crazy… but then when was her life sane? She didn’t ask to have these powers. Pulling out the huge drawing pad that was mostly sketched and colored, she set herself on one of the only benches in the cemetery and set to work, following lines that were already there and some that she just knew should be. 

“Funny spot for a sunflower, a cemetery.” The voice wrapped around her, honey toned and ...well it might have been soothing, or alluring even, except it scared the holy bejeezus out of her. Whipping around, she clutched her book to her chest and  froze. It was him, the demon from before, leaned against the tree watching her. He looked for all intents and purposes, human.. But she could see past his glamour magic. An Incubus demon. His skin a deep blue, black horns curling back and up away from his face, a face that looked both softly sensual and so sharply beautiful that it hurt, and was dotted by silver piercings. The horns seemed more prominent where his hair was shaved on the sides, and where his human mask had blue eyes so dark they looked black, now his eyes were like the night sky, full blackness with a swirling blue galaxy that almost made you drown in them. He was… sinnfully gorgeous, built like a swimmer with narrow hips and a lean frame... And he was powerful...she could sense it. The only issues she had right at the moment was the cigarette that dangled from his hands as he pulled it from a pack in his jacket and lit up. He watched her curiously, smirk on his lips when she hadn't replied, only stared. “What’s the matter, sunflower? Cat got your tongue?” he asked.

“No..” She voiced, hesitating when he raised a brow at her. She frowned at him. “Those things smell awful by the way...” She commented, knowing that since he was a demon, he probably didn’t care much about it possibly affecting his health. Heck it probably did nothing for him besides maybe making him seem ’cool’. He blinked at her, before he smirked again and snuffed out the cigarette, chuckling. “You can see through my disguise, can’t you?” He gestured at his body, “Not many humans can, although you’re not the first…” He sighed, straightening out and stretching like a big cat. He reminded her of some large jungle cat with the way his lithe blue tail swished back and forth lazily… maybe he meant more with that analogy of his. She wondered what kind of demon he was, she could feel his power, like warm breath over her skin. It was… nice, but why could she feel it? She’d been around other demons, and fae, and while they held power, most were uninterested in her, didn’t see her even. Was he pushing it to touch her? Was there supposed to be an effect? It was odd, Andras let his power pool around her and yet… she simply stared at him, up close he could see the freckles across her face. But there was no feeling of lust, and her hazel green eyes didn’t linger over him, her pupils didn’t dilate in want... she wasn’t affected by him. That fact hit him like a ton of bricks. Not that there weren’t beings that held immunity to incubus powers, though it was a small range especially for one of his lineage and status but.. for a human to have no effect well, that was a rare thing. “You gonna answer me sunflower?”

“Yes, I can see what you are..” She spoke softly, trailing off. She was nervous, he could see it in the way her fingers played with the ridges of her book. But it was the nerves of a potential prey likely to bolt, it wasn’t anticipation he saw normally with females. She licked her lips as he stepped forward. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything by staring..You caught my eye…. Not that I mean anything like that by the way..”

“No.. staring’s fine.” He grinned, interrupting her ramblings. He was trying to read her, appear.. charming, playful...she tilted her head a bit and he continued. “I was curious to see what you were up to all alone, like I said, a cemetery is an odd place for a sunflower.” He stepped closer. Her eyes widened a little at that and she made to stand up, leaning away. Okay he probably could have worded that better.

“Why do you..” She started, then looked down at her shirt and flushed a little. “I’m not a sunflower. I’m sketching and I don’t want any trouble so...you can  be on your way Mister Demon.” She mumbled, and Andras was confused. When she didn’t say anything else, it was clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him...still that didn’t deter him. 

He stepped closer again and it brought her gaze up in a hurry… was she… scared of him? “It's not everyday I get shooed away by a pretty girl. I’m not gonna hurt you.. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’d like me if you tried.” He purred, winking and putting on a smile. “At least tell me your name?” 

This time she did stand up, shoving her padbook into her bag with a small frown in her lips. He was being.. a creep. Was this normal for an Incubus? Didn’t he know that commenting to a girl that she was all alone and secluded with some stranger with every potential to hurt her was… scary?  Again, she felt his warm power and realized that he was.. Flirting..? Trying to seduce her? Heat crept up her cheeks, not only by realizing what he was doing but also for what he kept calling her. And she really didn’t feel like giving him her name. Clearing her throat, she looked down at her stuff then back to him. “Listen.. I’m sorry mister demon but… I didn’t ask to be able to see the real you.. And I’m not interested in…”  she gestured her hands, “yeah, so you can ...just not... with the names and flirting. I just came here to sketch and I’m sure you have much more fun things to do like parties and whatnot... so..yeah...” She trailed off again, hesitating in her speech. She didn’t want to be mean, or piss him off...right now he seemed laid back, non threatening. But that could change. Grabbing her backpack she turned away in a hurry. 

Andras blinked, a frown of his own turning to a confused scowl. “Hey! Wait a minute.. Hey, sunflower..!” His voice caught her before she could get far and she paused, turning to him with another frown.  “I don’t mean to be a pest. If it’ll help, I’ll tell you my name?” He asked, whatever small awkwardness he held melting away. She had to admit, he was charming. 

“What’s your name then?” She asked, and he seemed to brighten up. 

“Andras.” He answered her, giving a mock bow that seemed to be more sensual than romantic. “And what can I call you? If not a sunflower?” he chuckled. She paused again and then smirked. 

“See ya around then.. Andras.” Not answering and then she was off, heading down the path and disappearing off into the cemetery. He was… stunned. And he didn’t even get her name! He huffed as he pulled out another cigarette and stopped, scoffing a laugh when her words in his head came back. Smells bad? He never thought to care about that, and most people didn’t comment on it. 

He thought about going after her again, but instead, he turned and stopped when something caught his eye....  On the bench where she had been sitting was a folded piece of paper, stuck as if she’d dropped it. He shoved his cigarettes back into his pocket, walking over to pick it up.... and smiled. Looks like fate had other plans for his runaway sunflower...and what the hell, he liked the chase. 

Disappearing in a cloud of blue tinted smoke, he set out to make some plans.

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

Her bike tires skidded to a halt in front of what used to be an old book store. A few months back they’d renovated it into some sort of building for art classes and after working overtime, she’d signed up to take one. The flyer, that she couldn’t for the life of her remember where she put it, had said that each week was a different theme or lesson and it seemed...exciting. Maybe it would inspire her to draw something other than..

Again she shook herself from whatever weird dreams she’d been having that week and parked her bike against the building. It was a little later in the evening but it seemed to be the only time she could do with her work schedule, she just hoped she wasn’t too late. As she headed inside though, she was relieved to see a smaller gathering, probably ten or fifteen people, all standing around mingling. The room was nicely lit and a warmer temperature than outside, to the right of the room was a circle of chairs and easels set up around what looked like a platform. That made her pause...in her dream last night-

“Hey! Welcome to the class, you must be Cassie?” A middle aged woman with white blonde hair came up to her, breaking her thoughts. 

“Ah! Yes ma’am.” She answered politely, feeling nervous when others turned her way. She wasn’t as dressed up today, since she’d be painting, she wore a big shirt that had star trek next generation on it and some ripped jeans, both already had paint on it. All that coupled with her beanie and reading glasses, made her look like a nerd and a boy...a look she liked but often felt out of place around others. 

“Great, thanks for joining us! My name is Sofia, we spoke on the phone? We were expecting another person but they canceled on us. Still, For today’s class, we’ll be painting a live nude model, I mentioned this right?” She asked and Cass assured her that yes she knew of what this week entailed. Though, something in her brain nagged at her, why did this particular room look so familiar?

Sofia had her fill out a form, and then called the class to order, no time for deja vu thoughts when she got to set up her paints for her easel, grabbing her pencil to sketch first. It was then, she found out, why the room looked so familiar. Sofia introduced the model with a flush on her cheeks, and a hush fell over the room as Andras walked in from behind a screen she hadn’t noticed at the back of the room. She froze in place while the others awed over him, he was just as gorgeous as before but.. what hit her most... was that this moment was her dream last night.. She had seen this, him, in her dreams, dreamt of tracing his lines with her pencils.. her fingers... He noticed her with a breathtaking smile as he introduced himself and stepped onto the platform. He was once again in his human guise, and yet she could see past it if she tried hard enough. And then he was shedding his robe, and while the idea of sex had never appealed to her, she felt... something in her stir as she took him in...he was a work of art. 

“Alright Andras, give us a comfortable, natural pose and hold it. We’ll break when you need to.” Again, Sofia’s voice cut through her thoughts and Andras posed as she explained that they were going to take everyone’s unique style in the form of real life sketches first. But Cassie’s mind was already going, and so was her hand.

She always went to a different place when drawing, and when painting, but here it was like the two of them were the only in the room. He hadn’t chosen a provocative pose, one arm bent up and the other reaching down, he looked like a greek god, or a statute of one. She sketched the lines of his face, the curve of his mouth, his hair, shaved on the sides and wild on top, black and soft, and each piercing in his ear, nose and lips. His upper body was studded, small raised patterns of skin, like scars made purposefully, they traveled across his chest and down his stomach. For some reason, drawing him, drawing him in hard lines seemed wrong, so instead she used soft curves and watched him come to life on canvas...and that made him more real than him standing no less than ten feet away. 

Before she knew it, Miss Sofia was calling for a break and Andras was stretching, moving again and completely comfortable with being in the nude. There was chatter, a few people flocking to Andras to ask him questions as he robed up and Sofia gave him a bottle of water. Cass...stayed seated. She followed the lines of her pencil, letting it complete the curves and edges that was him. Somehow she’d managed to capture some sort of emotion on his face, mischievous, wistful, lusting… distant. 

“Do sunflowers always sit by themselves?” His voice startled her and just as she whipped her head up to see him standing behind her...she caught his reaction to her drawing. His face said he was impressed, but there was also.. A softer something in his face.   He was so...tall, she mused. He seemed to shake himself though and smile down at her. “You have some wicked talent.” That got her to flush red more than any of his attempted flirting had. “Thank you.. Um, could you not call me sunflower?” She asked, dropping her gaze as he took the seat beside her. She wasn’t even wearing that shirt anymore.

“Not a chance.” He grinned, “You never told me your name. But I stilI found you.~” he sang with a small laugh. She frowned at that, found her? 

“You were looking for me?” She tilted her head, confused, “Why?” She didn’t leave the cemetery that day.. He could have followed her, but he didn’t.

Andras wondered how she could make such an innocent gesture look so ...cute, and it was surprising to him that he thought something like that. He sipped his water and sat back with a smirk. It was easy for him to stretch out, feel all of the eyes in the room on him. But hers wasn’t in want. “Because you’re a bit of a mystery. Won’t tell me your name and hang out in graveyards? And you can see me. The real me.” He watched again as her hazel eyes dropped to her hands. What was she hiding? And again while he could feel the lust off of  everyone in the room, from the instructor to the only two males, all of them lighting up on his radar, she alone was a blank spot. All of the others' works had seemed innately sexual but hers...there was something different. 

This time she rolled her eyes a little. “Cass, my name is Cass, or Cassie if you like.” she said, her eyes lifting up, looking through him more than at him. “Did you seriously sign up as the model to get to me?” She asked and when she put it so bluntly…he guessed that he was being a bit stalkerish.

“What can I say? You left an impression on me.” He smiled. It was just then that the instructor lady got his attention, asking if he was ready to continue their session. He said he was, glancing once more to Cass, and stood up. Looking at Cassie's painting and then back up to her, he gave another dazzling grin, “Paint me like one of your french girls?” He asked. 

And she laughed, head back and eyes closed, a loud sound like he’d caught her off guard. Something in Andras liked that, that he’d made her laugh, and he gave her another smile as he stepped up to the platform and shed the robe again. 

He resumed his pose, able to look right at her, though she seemed once again to just be looking through him. 

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

Weeks followed and for some reason it bothered Andras that he hadn’t seen her since then. She’d only shown up at the one art class, and when he asked about her, the instructor woman had even said she’d left her painting to be displayed. He declined sticking around after that… after he bought the painting with enough cash to buy the studio. One reason why it had been weeks was because he had to feed, at least once or twice a week depending on the “meal” available but when he wasn’t doing so, he was.. quite literally hanging around, bored out of his skull and hoping… to see her. He went back to the cemetery several times, but no luck. Out of all the flowers there, not a single one was the sunflower he wanted to see. 

He scrubbed a hand down his face with a growl as he walked down the street, when did he become such a fucking sap? Why was he still hung up on one human woman? She obviously didn't want to be around him. And again...humans were predictable, weak...except he didn't think that she fell into that category. Still, he felt wondrously bored out of his skull and a bored demon wasn’t something anyone wanted. Maybe it was time to let this all go, move on to another city. 

“Andras?” The voice halted his steps, and he turned to see...Cass. She was standing in the doorway of a small pottery shop that was wedged in between two larger buildings, a tote bag tucked under one arm and a curious expression on her face. Well.. fate had other plans once again. “Are you stalking me again?” She asked, raising a suspicious brow in his direction and stepping off the step of the shop.  

“No.” He winced, because...had he been? Kinda. Maybe. Okay he had been. “Well not really,” He amended, “I've been hoping to find you again but no such luck. But fate has led me to my sunflower.” He smiled, charming and cheesy all at once. He watched her frown, pursing her lips a bit though her eyes rolled and he caught amusement as she moved past him to a small alleyway where her bike was parked. 

“It’s not sunflower, remember? It’s Cass. And fate is stupid.” She grumbled, pouting her lips. He wondered why the sour tone. Was that really how she felt about fate, not that he could fault her on that really,  or was it his presence that made her frown like that. He couldn’t have that.

“My apologies, Cass.” He smiled again and followed after her as she set her bag into the basket on the front of the bike. “And yeah, fate is a tricky mistress. I'll give you that. And yet just when I'd given up, you popped up in my sights. So that must count for something right?” 

She eyed him, relaxing a touch and sighing a little. “I guess so.” Though she felt otherwise on the matter for sure… still it wasn’t his fault. Not really, especially when she had other reasons he didn’t even know of, that made her stance on the cruelty of fate more concrete. She was stolen from her thoughts by the warmth touching her again, his power? Or did he just radiate that? Looking up, she could see him watching her, his curious dark eyes… it didn’t take much to see past the illusion he held of being human, and the real him was just as flawless. Why was he so interested in her? He could have.. Anyone. Was it her odd powers that lured him?

She shook her head. “So, you’ve found me...again, what now? I told you that I’m not interested in flirting.” She said, her tone was softer, unsure of what he wanted but wanting to remind him, casual sex was off the table. 

“Hey, even I know that no means no. I’m not here to seduce you,” and then his smile turned to a grin, his voice a lower purr. “Not unless you want me to try. I do like the chase.” he teased, quick to drop that tone and she was grateful. “but really, I just feel drawn to you. And though I’m not sure why yet, I’d like to find out.” He admitted, shifting again from the role of wicked incubus, that bit of awkwardness she’d glimpsed before coming back. “There’s something there, I know it..” He said and Cass found herself taking a breath to steady herself. Of course there was something more...but she couldn't tell him that. Could she? 

“You hungry?” Cass blurted before she lost courage, picking at the edges of the tote bag in her bike basket. This was stupid.. She didn’t get involved with demons...But Andras grinned. “And if I am?” he asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, hanging low on his hips. She looked at him then, and again, no lust or want or arousal, but nerves. 

Cass shoved at her hair and pushed a headband back through it, away from her face. “I just got off work,” She pointed to the pottery shop, “We could.. grab a bite to eat? And maybe talk.” She probably sounded stupid.

“Alright, let’s go then.” Andras said and stepped in close. She barely had time to protest before he was pushing her bike down the street, her trying to keep up with his long strides.

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

Cass dipped another fry into her milkshake, kicking her feet because she was too short in the booth to touch… which he found cute really. She was more than cute, she held a softer beauty, one that felt feminine… yet not, he couldn’t describe it. He’d been with males and females, and those that felt they were neither, both or in between.. Bodies that were warm and soft or hard and rugged...he liked them all. And she was no exception. He had seen first her outer beauty but there was something.. More. Again, it was difficult to describe the pull she held.  “I know that it’s not the most...unbelievable thing, not to people like you.” She said softly, “But I don’t exactly go around broadcasting my… abilities.” She shrugged, munching on her food, glancing around to the only semi busy burger joint. 

“I mean, that’s understandable.. and I did stalk you.” He grinned at her, completely unashamed of his actions apparently. But she smirked, a twitch of her lips that made him notice the dimples she very barely had. “And by the way sunflower, there are no people like me.” he added on, watching her roll her eyes, protesting that she was not a sunflower. “But you are human, and you have... a power to you. A pull… help me understand why that is? I know you didn’t ask me to lunch just because.” He knew that if it had been someone else, his charming smile and sensual allure could have them eating out of his hands, but Cass seemed wary. Like a nervous cat about to be caged, and he didn’t want to scare her off. It felt… awkward, trying to get someone to open up to him with actual… effort. 

Cass seemed to purse her lips in thought, her eyes dropping to what was left of her food, before launching into her life story. She told him about her powers, unstable as they were, how things, demon or otherwise, were always drawn to her and how she had visions that often caused her to black out from the force of them. It was why she rode a bike instead of driving. “My parents didn’t have powers.. in fact they hated that I did and tried to get the church involved.” She winced, very vividly remembering what cruelty they had dealt her. Then there was her sister, a few years older and just… gone one night. She’d said goodbye, a sleepy memory that she tried to hold onto but part of Cassie felt that she’d been abandoned. 

“And you’ve had visions of me?” Andras asked, listening to her as though she weren’t babbling nonsense. A waitress came by, slipping her phone number in with the check, smiling and touching him as though she couldn’t help but to do so, she completely looked Cassie over, which didn’t bother her much. She was used to it for the most part. Andras though, seemed to preen at the attention and tucked her number into his pocket with a wink. It hit her that she’d only seen him as a demon now, she didn’t see his disguise though she knew it was there otherwise the waitress would have freaked. 

“Sort of?” She questioned, mostly herself more than his question. “I’ve seen you.. before I saw you on the street, I mean. In dreams and such. I had a vision where I was just.. happy, and you were there.” A tint of warm pink touched her cheeks when she admitted that. “But for the most part I don’t know how to interpret the things I see. They aren’t always accurate or certain and time changes the outcome so.. I try to avoid it.” She spoke softly now but seemed less tense. 

Andras sat back in the booth. “Well that makes sense. You’re what us.. Other folks would call a Seer.” He’d met more than one and none were ever alike.. and that did explain the pull he had towards her, but not why she had no reaction to him. Cass nodded like she was familiar with the term. “But, have you ever considered finding someone to work with your powers? You’re young but If someone my power level is drawn to you..” He knew that he had meant her no harm but… there were always those that did out there. Cass looked away. 

“I usually outrun them.. When they find me.” She voiced and he frowned. 

“Who’s they?” He asked, though he had an inkling as to who she meant. 

“Demons, fae, vampires once. People who think that I can control this and scare me..” She admitted. She didn’t know why she felt like admitting this to him. She had thought of running from him too. But maybe it was their constant meeting, or maybe.. She did find him charming in a way. Andras paid, though Cassie protested and as he walked her down the street, Cass pushing her bike, he again brought up the idea of seeking someone to help her harness her power. 

“I tried to go to a psychic.. One of those ones that claimed to read fortunes.. But she was a farce.” Cass explained. It had been embarrassing and frustrating to have someone read a premade astrology horoscope to her, not listening once to her problems and seeming irritated for voicing them. She stopped pushing her bike and looked up at him as he stopped too. “Why are you so interested in helping me..?” 

“I can’t let other demons stalk you now, it’s my job.” Andras grinned with a wink, and of course, he was rewarded with a smile. “Look, let me pull some strings. Least I can do is help out my new friend yeah?” He stuck out his hand. At this, she brightened and reached out, shaking his hand. 

“Okay.” She agreed, liking the idea that he could be a friend.

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

Taglist: @doodledream @jellyflux @serenitydusk @sunrisehoneybee @ijwrff @the-dying-red-rose @junepop45 @no-need-to-apply @nickthegiantboi (its not gt but I hope you don’t mind me tagging you)  @scribbles-main-blog @matronofthevoid    @bee-wrecker @spooky-scary-lesbian If I forgot anyone Im so sorry! >.< And if you want to be tagged just let me know!

[solarune]

meet me on the rooftop

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers is implied at the end i guess, college au, spiderman au

warnings: wasn’t sure if i should put fem!reader or not bc it’s implied that reader has long hair that gets into their face at one point but not everyone that identifies as a girl has long hair and people that don’t identify as a girl have long hair so like??? pls let me know if i made the right decision lol

word count: 1,979

a/n: i listened to the soundtrack for “into the spider-verse” while writing the last 1/3 of this lmao. i was actually going to name this “let go” after the song by beau young prince (but decided against it bc i didn’t think it fit) on the soundtrack so listen to that song while reading this if you’d like? also this happened because of @retro-milk‘s spider-man!mark au and a drawing of spider-man!mark i saw on twitter

Mark smirks underneath his mask as he watches the bank robbers squirm underneath the webbing, their boots scuffing against the brick wall of the bank’s entrance as they beg him to let them go. Just as he’s about to reply, police sirens cut him off, their red, white, and blue lights lighting up the street around him, and Mark takes that as his signal to leave. With a mocking salute and a “See you fellas later,” he makes his way down the street, shooting a web to the roof of an office building and taking off just as the first police car arrives. Mark can’t help but let out a whoop of joy as he swings from building to building, the various noises of Seoul’s nightlife the soundtrack to his next destination. 

After Mark’s long and exhausting week, he definitely needed tonight to let off some steam, especially after the psychology midterm he took in the afternoon. He had studied all week long, gotten a total of maybe 6 hours of sleep in the past 2 days, but the second he read the first question of the exam, he felt his mind go blank. Mark was frustrated to say the least, so tonight’s victory was a much-needed pick-me-up and a great outlet to let go of everything.

He lets his mind wander as his body moves on autopilot, the route to his destination so well-known to him that he could probably get there with his eyes closed (he wouldn’t dare try that though because knowing his luck, he’d run face-first into a lamppost). His feet touch down on concrete, footsteps silent as he lets go of the web and takes in the sight before him: graffiti on the wall to his left, pigeon poop covering the abandoned wooden crates to his right, and the city of Seoul in front of him. Mark makes his way to the wall in front of him, slowly sitting down with a sigh as he takes everything in and takes off his mask.

He tries to not come to the rooftop of your apartment building too often for fear of getting caught, specifically by you, but he just couldn’t help himself tonight. He knows that he’s running a big risk, that you enjoy your alone time on the rooftop—stargazing while listening to one of your many playlists—that for all he knows, you could be there right now. But being there reminds him of simpler times. Before college, before he was Spider-Man, before things got so complicated and the world was black and white rather than various shades of grey. It reminds him of when you and him were still in high school and he would follow you up the fire escape to the roof. You would lie down on the cold concrete and look up at the stars and talk about anything and everything; your pasts, the weird kid in your geography class, how scared you were of what college would be like. Things were a lot easier back then.

Or maybe they just felt easier because you were always with him. Mark found you very comforting, which isn’t surprising considering you’re his best friend. The two of you balance each other out really well and had been inseparable since the 2nd grade when Mark moved to Korea from Canada; hell, you were one of the reasons Mark even became Spider-Man in the first place. Even now, with college consuming every minute of your lives, you and Mark still make time for each other. Because that’s what best friends do. But Mark is tired of being your best friend, is tired of constantly having to push down the confession that’s on the tip of his tongue every time he sees you. He wants to give you the world but he supposes that protecting the one you live in is good enough for him for now.

As he’s staring at the N Seoul Tower off in the distance, Mark hears quiet footsteps behind him and he scrambles to put his mask back on, cursing loudly at himself in his head. It’s only September, when the nights are still warm, of course someone would be on the roof. He turns around to see who it is while simultaneously planning his escape in his head, but freezes when he sees that it’s you. You stop in your tracks, your right hand fidgeting with the hem of his your old high school shirt and your left hand lifted up to him as if to show that you mean no harm.

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like minutes, neither of you wanting to break the silence, but eventually you gather enough courage to ask, “Are you okay?”

Mark is taken aback at that; of all questions you want to ask him, you ask if he’s okay? “U-Uh, I… What?” he stutters out, not completely sure what you mean by that. Judging by the indentations on your cheek, he guesses that you had been asleep for around half an hour, which means you had been on the roof for an hour and a half before falling asleep. There was no way you would know about Spider-Man stopping a bunch of bank robbers only a few miles from your apartment. So there’s no way that you would know he’s hurt.

He sees you bite your lower lip and can’t help but smile softly at that, his eyes never leaving your face as yours look down at your feet. “S-Sorry, you were just… sighing a lot? But the sad kind of sigh, and also the exhausted kind, so I just thought I should ask because, well, when am I ever going to get another chance to talk to Spider-Man, you know?”

He can’t help but laugh at your rambling, the tightness in his chest easing up at your words and your presence. “I’m okay,” Mark nods, thanking God that he remembered to turn on the voice distortion. He wasn’t quite ready to have that talk with you yet. “It’s just been a long week. School’s been kicking my ass, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep—you know, the regular college student type of stress.” He finishes his explanation with a shrug, mentally pushing down the stress when his mention of school makes him think about his psychology exam. “I had a psychology exam today and I didn’t do that great on it.”

You nod at his explanation, slowly walking over to sit next to him on the ledge. You sit far enough away to maintain a respectable distance but still close enough where he could smell the faint scent of the oil you put in your hair after you shower. “I feel that,” you chuckle, your hands clenching into fists where they rest on your thighs. “I had an exam today too, in my biology class, and I just completely bombed it.” (Mark has to stop himself from asking about your exam when you say that, his confusion as to why you told him earlier today that you thought you did fine almost giving away his identity.) You shake your head a bit and laugh to yourself quietly, letting out a sigh before looking up at him with a small smile. “My best friend Mark also had an exam in his psychology class today. He looked sad when I met up with him for coffee when we were both done with classes so I didn’t pry.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, Mark looking up at the sky and just beginning to wonder whether or not he should leave, whether or not it was even a good idea for him to be there in the first place, when you break the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

Mark looks over at you, his hand twitching when the cool breeze sweeps a couple of strands of your hair in front of your face. “You technically just did,” Mark jokes, his suit’s voice distortion making him sound a lot more confident than he felt. “But yeah, go ahead.”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, huffing out a laugh before looking up at the sky. “How can you tell when someone is keeping something from you?” Mark freezes at that, every hair on his body standing straight up as he looks at you. “It’s just…” you begin, taking the hero’s silence and stare as a request to elaborate. “Mark hasn’t been himself lately. He hasn’t been sleeping, he seems really on-edge about everything, and sometimes… sometimes I even see cuts and bruises on him. And I try to ask him what’s going on, if he’s in some sort of trouble, but he always says that I shouldn’t think about it, that it’s nothing to worry about. But that’s ridiculous because of course I’m going to worry and think about it—I’m his best friend, first of all, and second of all, I’m already thinking about him half the time because I’m in love with him, but that’s an entirely different story.”

Mark jumps up at that, his feet hitting the concrete hard enough to make his teeth rattle, but he barely notices as he stares at you. “You’re what?” he asks in disbelief. You are in love with him? With Mark Lee, the boy who, to this day, still hasn’t found a way to make his heart stop beating so fast whenever he hears you laugh, who blushes whenever you tease him, who feels like he’s going to faint whenever the two of you so much as brush shoulders?

“I know, I know,” you reply while shaking your head. “I’m in love with my best friend, super lame. No need to tell me that, all of my friends already do on a daily basis.”

“No,” Mark disagrees, briefly wondering if you’re able to hear how loud and fast his heart is beating because that’s almost all he can hear at this point. “It’s cute actually. Like something out of one of those teen romance movies you find on Netflix, you know?” You laugh at that and Mark sits down beside you once again, a little bit closer this time. “And as for Mark, it sounds like he just doesn’t want to worry you. Since you and him have been best friends for so long, he probably knows that there are things that you’re worrying about too and he just doesn’t want to add to that,” he explains, finding courage from the mask and suit on his body to confide in you (whether or not you actually know it’s him). “You just need to trust him. I’m sure he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready.”

Nodding at his words, you look out at the city once more, finding a new love for it in that moment. “Can I ask you one more thing?” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye and continue, a smile appearing on your face as you say it. “If this whole superhero thing doesn’t work out for you, can you keep trying to help people somehow? Because you’re really good at it.”

He can’t help but let out a loud laugh at that, the two of you standing up at the same time as the conversation comes to an end. Mark turns his back to the city lights, looking at you as he stands on the ledge. “I’ll try,” he agrees. With that, he takes a step back and falls off the roof, thrusting his arm out and shooting out a web as he begins his journey home. He smiles to himself when he hears you yell out, “Goodnight, Spider-Man,” letting out a whoop as he lets go of a web, closing his eyes as he falls before releasing another one.