#hey look my best bud genre returns to me

[o-wild-west-wind]

feeling SO many things about those episodes holy shit but the thing that’s getting to me the most (as per usual whoops) is the weight of Ed’s lingering trauma. the contrast seems to be starkest with Izzy and I think that’s SO fascinating.

It kind of feels like Izzy actually died during the gun scene and has since come back entirely rebirthed…he’s basically a new person, and it’s kind of amazing to see. it’s like he had a factory reset and now sees the world as it always could’ve been. he went from being the embodiment of suppression and maintaining the status quo to the exact opposite, creation and art and change—it’s like falling to rock bottom broke the chains he was always forcing on himself and others and now he’s just totally free from it all.

But Ed…he’s still coming back wrong, no matter how hard he tries. I think his throwing things overboard is such an interesting motif, since the things he tosses into the ocean seem to keep having a way of coming back metaphorically if not literally—Stede’s things (ft. Lucius), himself, and now his iconic clothing which represents the Blackbeard persona (which looks like it’s coming back next ep). He tries so hard to wash away the things he doesn’t want in his life anymore and for better or for worse, it’s never permanent.

And I just think that’s so tragic and so interesting and so beautiful somehow, since he truly needs these things to come back to him. But he’s haunted by the guilt of it all no matter what direction he looks in, and because of that, when he tries to remove the reminders they just boomerang back in a new shape. Even Stede is kind of an example of this; Stede is back, for him, but he’s just not the same as he was—he’s killing and he’s flaunting it and he’s not the sweet little goldfish that saved him anymore. Ed’s self-imposed curse appears to have caused one more thing to come back wrong.

It just gets me how he’s so good at so many things, but the thing he can never seem to do is steer the narrative the way he wants. He’s really just trapped in the wrong genre all season. And I can’t fucking wait for him to get episodes of jokes and laughs again.

[anashins]

i love your idol!au so much 🥰🥰 that’s why i’ve come up with an idea where in idol!reader suddenly gets shipped with another idol/actor she worked with and jaehyun get jealous and tries so hard to drop hints here and there that they’re together so people can ship them instead lol

Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x idol!reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When an incident during your first collaboration stage leads you to get shipped with his group's leader, Jaehyun decides that he has to nip this rumor in the bud.

A/N: Thank you so much, I hope you like this one 💗

“Did you see me, Jaehyun? It was amazing!”

You had just gotten off the stage, still in your outfit in which you had performed alongside Taeyong and several other SM artists for a collaboration song, and still in high spirits with the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You had been preparing for your first stage outside of your girl group for weeks, and the first live performance was a full success despite minor technical issues that luckily got quickly resolved thanks to the other artists in the unit.

Jaehyun was lurking backstage, having to wait another few stages until NCT would get their chance to perform, and even though he must be pumped as well by now, he didn’t give off the impression to be actually excited for the concert today anymore despite him having expressed his anticipation before.

In fact, he looked enormously pissed. 

“What was going on with your microphone?” he barked, walking toward you. “Why was yours the only one not working?”

“It’s okay!” you tried to calm him down. “It worked shortly after, right? I didn’t even have to sing first until they noticed, so it’s okay, it can happen!”

“But not during your first collaboration stage! I’m gonna find the one responsible for this.”

You didn’t know what was up with him, Jaehyun looked utterly angry, almost beyond the point of no return. You had never witnessed him turning into such a borderline menace for everyone around him. Usually, your boyfriend was kind, warm and reserved. Only seldomly, he expressed upset over something, most likely only brooding, and even more seldomly, he raised his voice. So what was going on with him now?

“Hey.” Before Jaehyun got the chance to turn around and stomp away, you grabbed him by his arm and held him back. “I promise you, it’s alright! There is no point in going off on that person, we cannot turn back time. Taeyong noticed it right away and fixed it, didn’t you see? Next stage, I’m gonna have a double check beforehand.”

“Of course he noticed it and fixed it right away,” he repeated, and you didn’t miss the slight mockery in his voice as it dawned on you what was really going on behind his boiling surface. “He always does.”

“Jaehyun…” Your hand slid down his arm until you reached his clenched palm and gently wrapped your fingers around his in a comforting and reassuring gesture. “Are you jealous? Of Taeyong? One of your best friends?”

It took him a while to reply and eventually admit to his feelings that he had never shown you before as he slowly shifted around to face you with defeated features. “It’s not that. He’s a great leader and a professional, which was why he noticed the malfunction right away and was able to fix it.”

“See, he’s the one who saved me from an embarrassing moment. So, what’s your problem?”

“My problem is…” You could almost hear Jaehyun grinding his teeth together. “...the internet. You have probably not seen it yet, but it’s full of people shipping you with Taeyong, and it’s making me mad!”

You frowned in confusion. “Why would they do that?”

“Apparently, it was heroic and utterly cute how he immediately went over to you and helped you, touched your face while fixing the microphone, and how you looked at him gratefully, earning a bright smile back.”

“I was only grateful for his help, and you know Taeyong, he-”

“I know,” Jaehyun sighed deeply. “I know.” He cupped your face, all anger suddenly gone, wiped away and replaced by something you had never encountered in his expression before as well: insecurity. “If it were me, I would have done the same, you know that, right? I’m capable of that too.”

“I’m sure about that. Please don’t listen to the internet and who they want to see me with, because they have only witnessed one interaction. I barely interact with other male artists. If they saw us close together as well, their opinions would surely change.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed and he now appeared less tense, wiping a strand of your hair that had gotten loose out of your face. “I’m sorry about that.”

You giggled quietly. “Jeong Jaehyun, I didn’t know you could be this jealous.” 

____

Having changed into the concert’s official shirt, you went to the goodbye stage with all the artists that had performed today. You were supposed to get on the same cart as your group’s leader, waving goodbye to the audience, but when you arrived at the spot, someone else already waited there.

“Where is my leader?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I switched carts with her,” Jaehyun explained with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, you did?” You approached him slowly. “And she allowed you to do so just like that?”

“Well, I owe her one bucket of chicken every week for one month straight, but it will be worth it.”

“You know you never had something to be jealous of in the first place, right?” you wanted to assure him.

“I’m very well aware of that. But I cannot let everyone believe you and Taeyong would make a greater couple than us. My ego just won’t let me.”

“What are you planning on doing then, Jaehyun? We cannot be too obvious.”

“Get on this cart.”

In your heels, it was a bit tricky to get up the steep stairs, and that was when you felt Jaehyun’s hand on your forearm. A tender touch that only lasted one second or two, but was obvious enough to get noticed by the endless cameras in the audience.

He hadn’t chosen to support you by your waist, because that would have been too intimate to be shared between artists from the same label, and he hadn’t chosen your hand either, because it would have been too obvious how close you actually were.

Jaehyun had done the right gentlemanly thing to spur some fan content that was just in character for him.

“Sneaky,” you whispered to him when he followed you to the top of the cart.

“I know,” he answered, smiling the brightest for the entire ride, waving to the crowd.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

a slice of life (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: eh, what the hell? why not try my hand at a slice of life fic. this plays a bit on things discussed in best bud, you alright bud? but it’s not a necessity to read it

summary: two months after reconvening in Miramar, the Iron Daggers decide to have a movie night at the Mitchell residence. Rooster and Rebel prove to be the cutest couple ever, the team learns about “The Incident”, and Hangman’s just happy he was invited

part of the same mistakes-verse

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, discussion of religious/spirtual things and guardian angels (insinuation of an afterlife/seeing people again after they die), discussion of near death-experiences, discussion of Goose’s death, very slight implication of sex, i’m still not certain i understand the slice of life genre, yeah this might’ve been an excuse to write about Rooster and Mav finding out about the incident what about it, the end is so cute i cried

word count: 3, 323

You hear the front door open, keys jingling. “Babe?”

“Kitchen.” You call back, pulling the popcorn maker from the cabinet. 

“Jesus, what decade is that from?” You snort, glancing at Coyote. 

"I don’t know, my Dad’s had it since I was a kid.” Rooster’s figure appears in the doorway and he squints when he sees what you’re holding. 

“Why does Mav still have that?” You shrug, setting it on the counter. 

“Not a clue, but I’m not entirely mad about it.” Rooster rolls his eyes, striding towards you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Coyote rolls his eyes and mutter, “Here we go.” Rooster places his hands on your waist, your arms easily sliding around his broad frame. 

“Hey darling.” He whispers and you smile against the mustached-face that’s pressing feather-light kisses on your cheek. 

“Hey.” You whisper back. The doorbell rings and you move your head a few inches away from Rooster’s face. 

“It’s open!″ You shout and you can hear the door open and then shut. You look over Rooster’s shoulders to see Hangman enter the kitchen, making a face at you. You flip him off from over Rooster’s shoulders and he returns it before taking a seat at the table. The door opens again, and you can hear the lively voices of Fanboy and Payback. Rooster turns when they arrive in the kitchen, glancing at them. Hangman looks at them, blinking. 

“Did you let yourself in?” Fanboy shrugs. “You can’t do that, it’s rude.” Payback chuckles, taking the seat next to Hangman. 

“Maybe for you, but the Mitchells happen to like us.” Rooster snorts, moving away from you to the fridge. You pout at him but he just chuckles, handing you a beer as you lean up against the stove. 

“Where’s Mav?” He asks, arm sliding on to the top of your shoulder as you face the other men in your kitchen. You shrug. 

“With Penny, I think.”

“I thought he was gonna be here?” Coyote asks and you shrug again. 

“He said he’d be back in time.” There’s a knock at the door, followed by a shout from Phoenix, announcing her and Bob’s presence. You smile at her as she squeezes in next to Fanboy, Bob choosing to lean up against the wall. The door opens again, but there’s no voice. “Dad?” You call, picking at a loose thread on your clothes carelessly. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Stopped to get more beer and popcorn per yours and Bradley’s request.” You take the jar of popcorn kernels from your Dad, thanking him. 

“Hey, will you get me the bowl out of the cabinet?” You ask Rooster, who grabs the large bowl from the top cabinet easily. “And the other two back there.” You say as you move to the pantry to grab what little of the popcorn kernels you did have. 

“Jeez, why are you making popcorn in that old thing?” Fanboy asks.

“It makes more popcorn and between all of us, we’re gonna need it.” You call back and then walk back to the kitchen to start measuring out the different amounts of kernels you’ll need. 

“Okay, but a few bags of microwave popcorn will do the same thing.”

“Well yeah, but this tastes better.” You defend, shrugging your shoulders. You plug in the machine as the front door opens again. You hear the voices of the rest of your teammates as Fanboy raises an eyebrow at you. “It does, I’m telling you! Back me up here, babe.” Rooster nods his head. 

“She’s right, it does taste better. Dunno why though.” 

Your Dad snorts from where he’s leaned up against the opposite kitchen counter, beer in hand. “Because (Y/N) drenches the popcorn in butter.”

“It tastes better that way!” You exclaim, seeing everyone else gather in the kitchen. It earns a laugh from everyone as your cheeks go red for being call out for your habit of over-buttering the popcorn. As you move towards the fridge to get the butter out, you gasp. Shutting the door, you turn back to your team who is staring at you with varying looks of confusion. “Coyote, guess what happened two years ago today?” He looks at you in confusion.

“What?”

“The Incident.”

“Oh yeah, Owl texted me today.” 

“What?” You exclaim, moving back to your place next to Rooster. He sighs, nodding, and fishes his phone out of his pocket. 

“Yeah, hold on. She said-” He pauses, clearly looking for the conversation. “Hey Coyote, happy two years of you and Rebel not dying. Hope you’re both well. Call me soon, lots to update you on.” He shrugs. “Not a big deal.” You blink at him, trying to find the words to explain why you’re baffled that your old teammate said she hopes you were well. Granted, out of all the old Green Vipers, Owl probably would’ve been the one you could’ve tolerated the most but still.

“Hang on, the two of you keep talking around ‘The Incident’” Hangman said, putting quotation marks around his words, “but I don’t actually know what that is. Can I be clued in?” He asks, looking between the two of you. You sigh as Coyote looked at you. The two of you agreed you’d keep the details of The Incident to yourselves, as your Dad didn’t know the full extent of the what had happened, and Rooster didn’t need to beat himself up for not being there when it happened, something you knew he would do. Plus, it opened the can of worms of talking about the Green Vipers, and while everyone had all met (and the Iron Daggers were not a fan), they didn’t know just how bad things were (something you were not planning on sharing). You settle into Rooster’s arm as you sigh again. 

“Two years ago, Coyote and I got shot down on a mission. We got stranded in the ocean and we didn’t think we were going to walk away alive.” 

“Ice did not tell me that part.” Your Dad argued. 

“Yeah well, what Ice kept from you was for your own good. What you didn’t know didn’t hurt you.” Your Dad scoffed. “The mission is how the two of us became friends. We played twenty questions, we’re-going-to-die-in-the-middle-of-the-ocean style. Coyote’s idea.” Hangman snorted as Coyote laughed silently at the memory. “He asked the worst questions.”

“You asked me what my favorite color was!” He exclaims, laughing. “I barely knew you, I’m sorry I didn’t start with ‘do your parents love you?’” You laughed at that. 

“Anyways, that’s what The Incident was. I don’t like talking it about it because I knew it would stress these two out.” You say, gesturing to your Dad and Rooster. Your Dad seems to be feeling a variety of things as Rooster looks like he might be sick.

“I can’t believe you’re being so nonchalant about this.” Rooster says, one hand gripping the counter, knuckles going white. 

“Honestly, looking back on it, sitting in the ocean was actually kind of fun.” You say shrugging. Rooster groans and presses his plans to his eyes. 

“Stop talking.” He says and you laugh. 

“Babe, it was two years ago. I’m fine.”

“Actually, I have a question about that day.” Coyote says and you look back over to him. You nod, signaling for him to continue. 

“That day, outside Thompson’s office, I told you you must’ve had a pretty sweet guardian angel.” You nod, wondering where he’s going with this. “And you said you thought of him as more of a guardian bird.” You scrunch your face, thinking back on that day, but Rooster takes a sharp breath from where he is next to you as your Dad straightens up. 

“Dad.” Rooster whispers. 

“Did I say that out loud?” Coyote nods. 

“Yeah, who was that?” Coyote asks and you look briefly over at Rooster and then to your Dad. 

“Um, Goose. Rooster’s Dad.” Coyote’s eyes widen slightly as Phoenix’s mouth drops open. 

“Carole’s looking out for you too, you know.” Your Dad says softly and you look at him, biting your lip and shaking your head. 

“No. I mean, no, I know, but that day-” You take a deep breath, a wave of tears rising up. “That day, it was Goose who saved my life, I’m sure of it. What happened-” You shake your head, trying to shake the tears. “It was too familiar.” 

The team looks to Rooster and Maverick and the two exchange a look. Your Dad finally sighs. “Goose was my RIO and my best friend. During a training exercise, our plane went into a tailspin and during ejection, Goose’s head- it uh, hit the canopy and he died.” Your Dad explains, voice lowering as he nears the end. You think a handful of your fellow pilots had been told this at one point or another, but it’s new information for a lot of them, Coyote included. “But uh, I don’t know anything other than you went down that day (Y/N). How- how-” You swallow, grimacing. 

“My shoulder hit the canopy so hard on ejection my beacon was crushed. The doctor said I should’ve suffered at least a fracture and I walked away with a bruise.” Rooster’s gaze hardens and you turn away from him, gaze settling on the cabinet just behind Coyote’s head. “Coyote found me in the water. I remember freaking out, just kept thinking, I’m going to see Goose again before Dad does and it’s not fair.” You stop, trying to push back the burning tears. You’re not sure why the memory is upsetting you so bad. There’s a tightness settling in your chest as you recall the paralyzing fear that took over, the way the cold water made your brain shut down, and the distant calls from Coyote when he got shot down. “If Coyote didn’t find me, hadn’t also gone down, I would’ve drowned. Or gotten left in the ocean, I still don’t know who’s beacon was responsible for getting us help.” You didn’t repeat what you’d also said that day, that you didn’t think you were expected to come home from that mission. “I think Goose knew I wasn’t ready to see him again yet, knew I still had a bit of unfinished business here. Plus, I think he’d much rather see Mav again before he sees me.” A few tears betray you, slipping down your face and you turn away from the group, looking intently at the counter.  “Anyways, that’s why I don’t like talking about that day.” The team is silent for a moment and you briefly hear your Dad telling the team to settle in the living room and set up the movie. And then Rooster’s arms are wrapping around your chest and your hand comes up to interlock with his. You squeeze it and he squeezes it back, kissing the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispers and you shake your head.

“Don’t do this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I should’ve- should’ve been there.” His voice cracks. “What if you hadn’t-” His voice gives out, unable to continue the sentence. 

“Bradley, I’m fine. It’s been two years. I’m still here, breathing and being a thorn in Coyote’s side. It’s okay.” You whisper. He tries to shake his head to protest, but Mav’s clearing his throat and the two of you look over to him. 

“Brad, would you-” He nods, letting his arms slip off of you and you have to admit you feel a bit colder without his touch. He grabs the bowls of popcorn and takes them out to the living room, joining your team mates. You can hear light bickering and it almost makes you smile. “(Y/N), why didn’t you tell me any of this?” You shrug. 

“Ice and I worked really hard to make sure you didn’t find out. I didn’t want to worry you.” 

“And the stuff about Goose?” 

“I don't know, it didn’t feel fair to repeat those things- I hardly even remember him. I was so young when he died that I just- didn’t feel right.” Your Dad sighs, studying you for a minute and then pulls you into a hug. 

“I love you kid.” He whispers against the top of your head.

“I love you too Dad.” He lets you go and pushes you to the living room. You climb into the spot on the couch left open purposefully for you between Rooster and Coyote. You fall into Rooster’s side and if his arm wraps around you tighter than usual, you don’t say anything. “What’d y’all decide?” 

“Okay, right now the debate is between the Titanic and Toy Story.” You squint at Fanboy. 

“I’m not going to ask how those were the two you settled on, but we’re not watching Titanic. That movie is too long.” There’s a scoff of protest from Bob, who chucks a few pieces of popcorn at you. 

“That movie is just the right amount of-”

“Toy Story it is.” Hangman announces, grabbing the remote from Fanboy. 

“Hey, give that back!” Hangman’s not listening, scrolling to Disney+ and searching up the movie. 

“You guys are like children.” You say, settling against Rooster’s chest as Phoenix coos at the two of you. Rooster flips her off from over your shoulder and she laughs. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, y’all are just too damn cute.” Bradley’s cheeks color a dusty rose and you snicker, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Alright, that’s enough lovebirds, watch the movie.” Hangman says, throwing a glance back to the two of you. You stick your tongue out at him and he sneers, but turns around as the movie begins to play. Bradley’s embrace is comforting as the movie plays and as the expected chaos of watching a children’s movie with these people unfolds, you find yourself feeling content, safe, and happy. It’s a feeling that was so foreign after being with the Green Vipers for so long, living every day in misery. It’s decided to watch the second Toy Story, and then third, and at some point, Bradley’s just become all too comfortable and you’re still basking in the happiness of being surrounded by these people that eventually you find yourself drifting off.

-

“They’re so cute.” Someone says as you slowly become aware you’re no longer sleeping. 

“Coyote, leave them alone.” You distantly hear your Dad saying. You feel the steady rise and fall of someone’s chest and you don’t open your eyes, not wanting to break the comfort of their embrace. 

“She looks so relaxed in her sleep.” Fanboy (you think) says. 

“Yeah well wait until Bradshaw starts snoring. That’ll be the end of this moment.” Phoenix taunts. 

“Mav, should we just leave them?” Bob’s whispering and you groan, finally deciding to alert the others to the fact that you were awake. 

“I’m up, whadda want?” You mutter, pulling from Rooster's arms. He groans, grabbing you back to his chest and you snort as your face lands face first into his shoulder. There’s soft laughter from your Dad and the few teammates who are still scattered around the room. 

“(Y/N), I’m sleeping, don’t leave me.” He mutters, still half-asleep and you snicker softly, turning around to face the group. He’s back to snoring softly into the crook of your neck and you shake your head. 

“Rebel, if you’re sleeping on the couch with your boyfriend, I’m taking your bed.” Coyote warns and you know he will. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get the man baby up.” You say and he grunts.

“’M not a man baby.” You pat his head lightly.

“Sure, baby, sure.” His warm hazel eyes open, blinking at you. “Can we go sleep in my bed or are you gonna make me sleep on the couch with you?” 

“We can’t be in your bed, Mav’ll kill us.” He mutters, eyes closing again. He must’ve been really tired, you think to yourself. Your Dad is laughing to himself from where he’s standing a few feet away. 

“You’re taking too long, ‘m going to the guest room.” Coyote grumbles. 

“Hangman’s already in there.” Bob calls.

“’M too tired to care.” He says and you laugh to yourself. Coyote will care in the morning. 

“Okay, Bob and I are gonna head out.” Phoenix says softly. 

“You sure? You’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your Dad says as Payback enters the living room to tell Fanboy the air mattress was set up in the guest room. 

“Yeah, it’s fine Mav.” 

“Drive safe. Text me when you get home.” You call to the pair as they head out and Rooster shifts under you at the noise. Your Dad chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I’m headed to bed unless you or Bradley need anything?” You shake your head. 

“No, we’re good. Hopefully, I’ll get him to the room eventually.” He nods.

“Love you (Y/N).”

“Love you too Dad. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” He calls and then the door to his bedroom is shutting. The house is still, aside from the snores coming from the guest room. 

“Babe, can we go to bed please?” He cracks an eye open. 

“With you? Anytime darling, all you gotta do is ask.” You snort.

“How charming.” He smiles into your shoulder. 

“Well, the offer stands.” 

“Aside from the fact that I’m way too tired, no less than 4 of our teammates are in the room next to us, along with the fact that my father and your godfather is down the hall, so it’s a hard no from me.” He chuckles.

“Alright baby, take me to bed.” He says in a sultry voice and you laugh into his chest.

“What did I just say?”

“Fine, I’ll take you to bed.” He says, picking you up bridal style.

“I hate you.” You whisper, quietly laughing into his shoulder.

“No, you don’t.” He says matter of factly, nudging the door to your room open. He sets you down and you move to your closet to get pajamas. After putting on a pair of sweats he keeps at the house, your boyfriend lays down in your bed, making no less than three suggestive comments as you flip him off. You finally move to lay down next him, his arms immediately pulling you into his chest as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You flip to face him, admiring the way his eyes look in the moonlight. His thumb is rubbing soft circles into the bare skin of your shoulder as he studies you, almost as if trying to etch you into his memory. “I love you.” He finally whispers. 

“I love you too.” You respond and he smiles softly. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.” 

“Well, I’ll tell it you everyday until I die if you let me.” 

“I think I’d like that.” A somber looks takes over his face, his hand moving to caress your cheek, moving the few stray hairs framing your face. 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You swallow.

“Me too.” 

“Have to tell Dad thank you the next time I go see him.”

“He knows.” You shift, hands finding Bradley’s waist. “Your parents knew we needed more time to get things right.” 

“Think they’d be proud of us?”

“I know they’d be proud of us.” 

“Miss ‘em.”

“I miss them too.” A quiet silence falls over you as he looks at you and you let him. His eyes roam over your figure, making sure you’re still there. Finally he’s intertwining your hands and he’s bringing it up to kiss your hand softly. 

“I’m glad you’re still here, I don’t know what I’d do-” The words seem to catch in his throat as you move your hands to his cheeks. 

“I’m right here.” You whisper and he nods, pulling you flush to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

[getouswh0re]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: yandere, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, blood & gore, mass murdering, obsession, slight manga spoilers

synopsis: he would tear the entire world apart with his own hands, just to keep you by his side evermore.

****************************************************

Love is a lethal bliss.

Bearing semblance to momentary sweetness, it warms the cockles of your heart; yet before one could even savour it for long, in its honey-like aftertaste is a deadly poison — seeping through the branching veins and killing every cell of the living host within its reach. Soundlessly, life is sucked out as one discovers themselves teetering on a tightrope of death.

i) The ambience of the atmosphere between you and Gojo is silent, deadly — akin to the calming weather before a raging storm. As the two of you stand at opposite ends of the living room, eyes refusing to meet with the sorcerer’s as an expanse of sky blue smoulders holes into your soul. Feeling your limbs trembling from the intensity of his stare, cat got your tongue. The words you’ve meant to say are stuck at the back of your throat as the taller male shifts a step forward, and you unconsciously leaning back against the wall.

“Do we have to do this love?” You cringe at the feigned pain interlaced in your ex’s tone. “You know you don’t have to do this. This is painful for both you and I, and knowing how much you love me, you certainly don’t want to put both of us through all of this. Don’t you?”

You bite your lip, eyes downcast. 

You wish all of this isn’t necessary, that everything that has happened is nothing more than your imagination regarding the red flags displayed before your periphery. Still, you have to do it having mulled over it for a while. It is about time that all of this come to an end. 

Ever since a certain man called Gojo Satoru meandered into your life, everything changed as your feelings for the male blossomed, like fresh buds on the bare branches with remnants of snow thawing into tinges of spring. It didn’t take long for the two of you to reciprocate one another’s feelings, yet cracks gradually surface on what seemed like an all-too-perfect fairy tale, breaking the crystal ball of illusion that you had been trapped in throughout all these months. 

For as long as you could remember, Gojo has been acting out of character; sure enough he retains his childish personality and insufferable god complex, yet there are times when you could barely recognise him. On occasions he would whine for hours, desperate to gain your attention, and there were moments when he’d follow wherever you went. Initially dismissing his clinginess as his way of displaying affection, you didn’t think much about it. That was until his demeanour underwent a 180 degree shift; being overbearing was one thing, yet the sorcerer had the audacity to dictate your life and your social circle, stepping his foot way past the boundaries that even you thought was too much. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t give Gojo an opportunity to change for the better. You did; it was him who failed to reflect on his own mistakes, to take things for granted without realising he had been in the wrong all along. With those alarming signs of the relationship spiralling into a toxic one, it occurred to you that you should end things fast before circumstances aggravated. 

Love is a beautiful pain.

To relish its fleeting vestiges between their fingertips, one must endure the torment of its thorns. Not everyone has the courage to sacrifice their sanity for something so transient, but one — or maybe few, who are more than willing to pay for their price, would do anything to hold onto such evanescent reminisces close to their heart.

ii) “Come on y/n. You know you don’t want to break up with me, stop lying to your heart.” 

As if his saccharine smile isn’t enough to make bile surge up your throat, the lovelorn white-haired man stares at you with such adoration, making you revolted than ever; before you could even blink, he is already inches away, bringing up his slender fingers and caressing your cheeks with utter delicacy. 

“From the moment we met, it’s like the red strings of fate intertwining, akin to two worlds colliding.”

Feeling his breath tickling your frigid neck, goosebumps laminate your skin as you shudder underneath his lasting touches.

“Your heart belongs to me, and mine yours. It’s like the universe wants the two of us to be together — forever. Just stop denying your feelings, okay? I can hear your heartbeat ... it’s beating crazy, just for me.” 

“Gojo, you need to stop all of this —“

“Oh honey, don’t say that ... I know the look in those eyes.” He presses on, his insufferable ego refusing to give in. “You might be pushing me away, but your body does the exact opposite. You’re still in love with me. You care for me, I know you do.”

Perhaps that is what makes terrifying about the sorcerer. Wearing his usual smile on a deceptively charming face, his true thoughts are inscrutable beneath the unfazed facade; worst of all, you never know what would drive him off the edge, not until you experience triggering a ticking time bomb by accident.

“Gojo, hear me out.” You push the towering male away, determined than ever to cut ties with him for the sake of your own safety. “What you do is not love anymore. It’s ... obsession! And it’s suffocating me! If you truly cared about me you would’ve respected my wishes and opinions — but you didn’t. No matter how much you love someone, this is far beyond acceptable. I ... we need to break up, for the sake of both of us.”

Stunned, the remnants of hope flicker in the sorcerer’s azure eyes before dissipating into darkness, along with his despondent heart that has plummeted into abysmal depths of a bottomless void. Hands retracting from your skin, you heave out a sigh of relief when spine-chilling chortles echo from Gojo’s throat.

“You think that’s it? That I’ll let you go?” The crazed glint in his burning stare convinces you even more that breaking up with this delusional man is the only option to save yourself. Slowly backing towards the door, you have prepared yourself for the worst, making a potential run with a bag filled with your valuables.

“You cannot run away from me y/n! You know you can never escape from me. I will flip the world upside down to find you — and hunt you down! Want me to prove that? I will tear the entire world apart by my hands, just so that you won’t run away from me anymore!”

You finally make your run, sprinting out of your shared apartment as fast as you could whilst ignoring his shrilling screams, deciding to leave everything behind for good.

Love is an unprecedented enigma.

Like a never-ending Möbius strip, the red strings of fate intertwines people's fates — yet at the same time, it looms over everyone's lives like a doom of death, mercilessly tearing loved ones or those held dear to their hearts apart within the blink of an eye. Callous as it seems, it reminds people how minuscule acts of gratitude allow them to appreciate the present before they lament or carry their regrets later on in life. Unfortunately, with the complexity of destiny, nobody could ever foresee when karma would dawn upon their heads. Not even you.

Little would you know that doomsday would be awaiting you so soon.

iii) For what feels like going through hell and back, you finally manage to rid yourself out of the psychotic sorcerer's hands and his devious manipulation. For what it’s worth, there is no guarantee about your life returning to normal. Knowing that it is nearly impossible to escape from Gojo (knowing that his sixth eyes can instantly locate where you are), you eventually make the decision of moving away with a heavy heart, considering that it would be what it’s best to solve your issues with your controlling ex. 

Having settled the documents and errands, all that’s left is for you to leave the place filled with nothing other than sad memories. As if it seems like a fresh start is extending its outstretched hands towards you, freedom is just within hand’s reach.

Not until all hell breaks loose on October 31st — the day of your departure. 

Copper tinges beckon indigo skies at twilight, remnants of the setting sun shining through the windows as you take a last, rueful look at the apartment you’ve resided most of your life before grabbing your belongings and heading towards the train station. With the day being Halloween, it isn’t surprising at all that the streets would be crowded, flooded with jovial citizens who want to enjoy themselves during the spooky season. All you have to do is make your way onto the designated train. 

Yet that never happened, because havoc descends among the living like a catastrophic plague. 

Just as you writhe your way through the streets and making your way towards the train station, screams erupt when a massive quake demolish the surrounding buildings into shambles, tearing the festive merriment in the atmosphere apart as people turn and run in all directions without warning — leaving you extremely perplexed about the current state of Shibuya. Horror is evident in every onlooker’s eyes whilst they dash for shelter; the city is in absolute chaos — danger looming, asphalt pavements ensanguined with blood, distressed cries resonating into the night. 

“Hey!” You call out, grabbing onto a random passerby. “What the hell happened?” 

“Danger ... curses ... sorcerer —“

Your blood run cold upon the mentioning, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out the entire situation and who has been responsible. In hindsight, you should’ve had followed the rest and ran away from the scene immediately, but you don’t — standing there amongst the quiet streets in utter terror. And before you could even lift your legs and sprint for your life, there he is, stained from head to toe in blood — an inebriated stare full of nothing but infatuation for you. 

“Honey! There you are ...” Skipping over mountains of corpses humming a joyful tune, Gojo happily pulls you into his chest, nestling his face against your squirming shoulders, his grip a vice against your futile efforts of struggling to break free. “I was so worried about you ever since you left! I ... I feel like my world is falling apart, and I just cannot live without you you know!” 

“Get. The. Hell. Off. Me!” 

The sorcerer chortles at your demand, ignoring your protests as he hugs you closer to his throbbing heart. 

“Darling ... we could’ve been so happy together. Yet you have to do all of this. For what? If you had given me your heart and soul, none of this would’ve happened —“

“Oh, so this is my fucking problem now?” You hiss, shoving the taller male off. “You really are crazy — Gojo Satoru. But I never regret the decision I’ve made, and I will do it again and again if I need to!” 

That is when he activates his domain expansion. 

All of your sudden, your mind is a blank — staring into the sorcerer’s cerulean eyes as it overwhelms you like a raging hurricane, sucking you deeper and deeper until your entirety sinks into his infinite void. For once you finally fear the strongest man on earth — of the dangers he possesses and what would’ve happened had he decided to break your mind the hard way. 

“To be honest, I don’t care ~” Silent tears roll down your cheeks once you recognise the drop in the man’s usual carefree tone, feeling the remnants of sanity being ruthlessly stripped away from you as you fall limp in Gojo’s loving arms. 

“The seas can rage, the heavens will rumble. But no matter what happens, I’m never going to let any of this take you away from me — for you and I are the honoured ones, destined to be together ...” 

With his voice dwindling to a hushed whisper, the sorcerer slips a shimmering ring onto your finger, declaring in utmost adoration his vows of undying love. 

“In time and evermore.”

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue.

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

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: 23.0k;

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

“Don’t be a homewrecker.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s just that the truth hurts sometimes. 

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

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

No one would know but Jin. 

The real you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t be a homewrecker.

A baby in her.

A baby.

His fiance. 

A homewrecker.

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

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

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

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

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—almost perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—ew!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—shut up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay… and fifth?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What—”

—click.

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

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

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

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

This is awkward. So painfully awkward. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

Why can’t he remember? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—dumb…?”

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

“Sorry, I didn’t meant that...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—it…? Over what, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...s-sorry… I skipped breakfast.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I haven’t, rank 295.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❀ ❀ ❀

Promise one. 

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

Promise two. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heee.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

“...and he wasn’t exactly wrong…”

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um… you’re 27 now, Jin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—what—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An arranged marriage. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worse yet, you’re a complete hypocrite. 

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

You never knew silence could be so deafening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you ever think you would have a chance? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A second passes. 

Now, two. 

Then, three. 

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

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

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

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

“Too late. I don’t want to.”

...and his lips meet yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

Wordlessly, you point at his ring finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?!”

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

He’s... sorry. 

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

The only one you would be hurting is yourself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...it gets worse.

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

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

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

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

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

“—Y/N, is that you?”

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

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

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

The tang of jealousy, however, refuses to budge. 

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

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

“—Jin gave me a terrible reference photo.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About?” 

“About the wedding, silly!” 

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

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

“Yes?” you hesitantly nod. “Father?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, sure…”

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

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

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

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

“Ahhh, I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

“—a marriage is a lifelong commitment—”

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And… you’ll take care of him?” 

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

“Promise?” 

“...promise.”

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

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you meant the other—”

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

“But why me…?”

“Because I only care about your opinion.”

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

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

“Alright, fine.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...problems like you.

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

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

“...oh, really?” 

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

But only by him.

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

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

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

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

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

You almost forget this isn’t actually your wedding.

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

“...stop it.”

JIn frowns, “stop what?”

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

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

“You picked this five years ago…?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are so beautiful.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...y-yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

“I understand.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs you. 

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

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

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

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

“—no you’re not—”

“—so fucking stupid!” 

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

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

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

“—no, Jin, you did not—”

“—I messed us up—”

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

“Aren’t you… mad?” 

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

“See—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I swear it worked last time I tried…”

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

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

“I heard what you said about me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bantering just never stops, does it?

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

“Under normal circumstances…” he repeats.

“Where you aren’t engaged…”

“Where I’m not engaged…”

“And your father approved of me…”

“And my father approved of you…”

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

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

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

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

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

❀ ❀ ❀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What word? Normal? Wedding? Your—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you asking me that now?”

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

“Blessing...?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“...no,” you answer, making sure to keep yourself hushed amidst a room of seated spectators. From the second bench to the front, fortunately on the opposite side of where Jin’s parents sit in the front row, you get a clear view of Jin and Youngji in between the black silhouettes of a couple heads; but anyone in the room can tell the bright studio lights and elevated platform don’t help his constantly shuffling case. “I don’t think it’s just you.”

“I see… so both the groom and bride are getting cold feet, huh?” 

“Well,” you utter, quipping, “in Jin’s case, he’d probably just say he forgot to sleep with socks on.” 

Alex turns to you with sheer confusion across her furrowed brows, “huh?” 

But before Alex could inquire further, the priest clears his throat and begins the opening ceremony. The officiality of it all, a long-dreaded image of Jin standing by another woman’s side manifesting into reality, has you subconsciously sent into a frenzy. 

“Dear Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kim Seokjin and Heo Youngji in matrimony commended to be honorable among all…”

The clearing of his throat strikes once and hard against your chest. Each word that reverberates in the room echoes the vibrating pain in the blood pumped from a gaping wound. Your chest heaves and heaves and your lungs struggle to maintain composure, and while your breakdown may have gone unseen by the rest of the universe, you know for sure only two would catch sight of your state.

You and him. 

“...if there is any person who can show cause why they should not be joined together…”

The priest continues and the tension in the audience rises by the second of a stress-inducing prompt, but the moment Jin catches your eyes and the panic painted across it, his every attention remains on you. Guilt should’ve painted your expression now, having stolen the groom’s admiration from the rightful bride by his side, but all you can do is relish in a fleeting moment you deem the least this cruel world owed you. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because something catches in your throat like the hunch that has chills running down the nape of your neck. You don’t dare move an inch. You fear any movement would give you away, though you’re sure he already knew the second he met you halfway.

His eyes, those dazzling eyes that could single-handedly freeze any moment in time, they ask you for a permission only he could grant. 

“...let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” 

No one speaks but the thick air that engulfs every witness in the room is telling enough. Holding a shared, bated breath, everyone awaits and prays for the quick passing of this deafening silence. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry your passing out would be the one interruption to the ceremony, if not anything else. It takes everything in you to remain hidden, glued to the chair. You can hear every single movement in this room, the squeaking of a nearly retired bench, the rustling of clothes amidst a fidgeting audience, the anxious tapping of someone’s heels against the wooden floor, yet no one dares to speak now. 

The priest sighs a soft breath of relief. 

Everyone but you follows along. 

The priest clears his throat and pro—

“—I would like to speak.”

A loud gasp travels across the room. Every witness, including the priest himself, stares at the young man, wide-eyed. The knot in your throat inhibits you from following suit, but the hammer against your chest works harder than ever; because there he is, your best friend, standing boldly before the audience with a puffed chest and a tightened fist that brace for the repercussions. 

It all happens so suddenly, so swiftly. The strings that were left raveled now unraveled, the paths that were abandoned now explored, and the love of a lifetime whomst once bid you farewell now holds on with a determination that tells you they aren’t quite ready to let go, by happenstance or by conviction, everything falls into place. 

You had reprimanded yourself relentlessly for envisioning a moment like this and you truly believed this would be the worst case scenario, so why is it that only now, as your peering eyes are enamored by the sparkles in his, you find yourself smiling proudly and thinking to yourself… that’s your man. 

“Father, mother,” Jin turns to face his parents in the front row, declaring loudly and firmly, “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.” 

“What,” Alex shrills under her breath as she clutches your hands, “what is going on, Y/N?!”

Her voice doesn’t reach you and neither do her cold, nudging hands. The ongoing commotion around the room are like white noise in your background. You can’t even spare a second of your attention to the picturesque vision before you, the man who fights not for you but for the two of you.

Jin bows, head hanging low to his parents and the audience, “I’m sorry for saying this too late.” 

Everybody watches as his mother attempts to hold her husband in place. All is in vein, however, when one look of the baffled expression on her husband’s face conveys enough to everyone of the mayhem that is soon to ensue. He rips her grip apart from his arm and storms to his feet, pointing a finger at his apologetic son.

“W—” he struggles to find his breath “—what are you saying? You said you were okay with this just last week!”

“I did,” Jin affirms with his head still hanging low, “I thought I was okay with it until this week.” 

“How—”

“—honey…” the mother murmurs.

“No, changing your mind is one thing, but changing it at the very last second is another,” his father shakes his head, yanking his hand and stumbling on his feet before his distraught son could lend a helping hand. “Did I teach you to inconvenience others like this? Do you know how much trouble you’re causing Youngji and her family?”

“I do,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

His father grunts, “don’t you see, Seokjin? ‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything—”

“—actually, Mr. Kim, it’s not just Jin,” Youngji bounces to Jin’s side then pivots to bow to her parents who sit in the row before you, “I, too, don’t want to marry anyone until I really know them.” 

Physically, the spotlight remains affixed to the stage. Mentally, it feels as though everyone’s attention is gradually creeping its way toward you. It takes everything in you and the grip of Alex’s hands not to run from the prying eyes. 

“What?” their parents gasp. “Didn’t you say you were okay with it if it were Jin?”

“I did!” she insists, suddenly retracting. “I did, until…”

“I’m sorry,” Jin lifts his head to turn to Youngji’s parents before bowing once again, “this is all my fault.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t do this... tell me, son,” his father takes a step toward the stage, beckoning for an explanation, “tell me who did this to you?” 

Jin lifts his head, brow furrowing and lips thinning as he chooses to remain silent to his father’s question. Suddenly, it’s everyone’s duty to catch the perpetrator. The audience begins craning their neck every which way to skim over the possible candidates. Your heart sends threatening waves of pain that foreshadow the inevitable chaos you’re about to be dragged into. 

You can barely move from staring at the floor in between the groom and bride but you can spot the gradual direction of his mother’s eyes making its way toward you… and when they finally spot you, a lightbulb flashing across her eyes the second you make the lethal mistake of meeting her gaze for the first time in many years, it’s as though her son’s rebellion is the only thing that makes sense in this universe. 

Only naturally, his father catches onto his partner’s maternal instincts along with the rest of the crowd as their diverged attention converges, one head turning after another, to stare you down—some with awe plastered across their jealous front, some with ghastly colors than drain their face of blood. 

“Is that… you, Y/N?” his father’s voice echoes in the room. “Seokjin, don’t tell me…”

“No, father!” Jin jumps in, holding up a defensive pair of hands as he attempts to quell the fiery in his father’s temper. Wide-eyed and panicked, he glances between you and his father. “It isn’t her fault. I swear. I”ll explain—”

“—don’t tell me you’re going through all this trouble for a childish crush from five years ago?” 

A loud shriek began the chaos the second Jin’s father exploded, lurching forward with a vexing fist. Everyone in the front rows jump to their feet to hold him back, whereas people in the back rows stand to their tiptoes to get a better view of the climactic show, which includes a once-to-be-groom insisting his father punishes him and a once-to-be-bride slapping her ex-partner in the head for his submission. 

People are hysterically laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, fighting, but you sit there, frozen and petrified, until a hand shakes your entire being to your feet. 

“Y/N, Y/N, God damn it Y/N, earth to Y/N!” Alex raises her hand, just about to give you one hard slap to the cheek when you suddenly flinch awake. She then hastily pushes you toward the door in the corner of the room whilst everyone is too distracted to notice your discreet escape. She looks you directly in the eye, “you need to run before things get too crazy. I’ll handle things here for now.” 

“But Alex, I’m at fault here—”

“—yes, I mean, maybe,” she corrects herself with the shake of her head, “but you being here doesn’t help matters. I’ll help Jin and Youngji.”

“But—”

“—now go,” she starts your momentum with an encouraging push, “go!”

Nodding, you begin your long trek of the night. You run and you run and you run. Your mind runs blank but your feet run a mind of its own. You sprint down the dimly lit streets, you pay no mind to the traffic lights of endlessly empty streets, and your hair twirls in the wind that impedes your speed down the hills. Your surroundings become a blur as your arms swing desperately, your chest heaves incessantly, your eyes sting with tears, and your lips spill anguished sounds of incoherency until somehow, under the sway of the town’s cold spring air and your flux of emotions, you find yourself in a familiar street of your greatest dreams. 

Depleted of gas, your feet stumble into a trot that has your knee nearly buckling, which then turns into a jog that then drifts into an untroubled walk in which your lungs try to catch up and your mind is scrambling at a hundred miles per hour but you, yourself, have gone elsewhere. 

The luminescence of the full moon is blinding but all the more soothing as you navigate your way through this street you’ve walked one too many times before. For some reason, perhaps out of habit or a hope for something waiting at the end of the tunnel, you begin to count each passing light post. Seven fluorescent lights, you count, seven lights resembling the rays of moonlight until you finally reach your old acquaintance of many years at the corner of the street. 

Leaning your head back to stare at the familiar white text on a green sign post, you smile at the homely sight. 

CHERRY BLOSSOM AVE

A comforting breeze blows by you, the branches above you rustle in the wind, and the cherry petals from your old pal flutter into the air to envelop you in a solace you had long sought but failed to obtain. It’s like the calm after a storm. Not quite disconnected from the string that loops around your fourth finger to those of another man’s—no, you couldn’t unravel it after all this heartache—but at least away from the prying eyes that could tear you apart and away from the people who whispered gossip of matters they had none in. 

Hours seem to pass in the clouds that retire to reveal patches of new twinkling ornaments. You would have believed it if someone were to tell you all control of time lies within the blink of your eyes. The silence was calming initially; but the longer you stand here and the more the numbness begins to fade, the more you become aware of your lonesome circumstances. 

The silence is deafening. It knows your greatest fears and your innermost thoughts. You can’t handle it. You can’t bear the thought of being left alone to that voice in your head. 

You have to go. 

Where? 

You don’t know. You just know you have to go somewhere. You can envision all the places you can run to but all the roads lead you to one destination. Yes, anywhere would be fine, anywhere that leads you to him. 

“This marks the second time you’ve ever been so enraptured by something other than me.” 

Whirling around, seconds seem to become milliseconds and gravity becomes a law unbeknownst to earth, for you can’t believe the sight your eyes lay upon. There he is, standing by the tree just a few meters away with a loosened necktie and disheveled hair, almost as if a pitiful albeit wondrous mirage crafted by your shoddy prayers to the moon above. 

“Hey dummy,” he simply utters, taking a step or two toward you before poking your forehead, “what? Why’re you staring at me like I’m a ghost?” 

“What?” you manage to say under your breath. “I’m not staring…”

“I was just joking, you know?” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be jealous over a street post. Psh, I’m not that dumb—”

“—why…” you frown when he quirks a brow, “why are you here? How are you here?”

“Oh no, she’s gone crazy,” Jin laughs at the stupefied look you give him. “At least an hour or two has passed since you left. Somehow, I managed to sit my father down and explain myself.” 

“And… what did he say?” your hands begin fidgeting. “He must hate me, doesn’t he…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ per se… he’s perfectly okay with you. In fact, he likes you, really. He’s just mad at how things happened. After he calmed down, though, he understood where I was coming from.” 

Cautiously, you peek at those eyes that peer down at yours, “and your mother…?”

“She said she saw it coming from a mile away. Apparently she saw us arguing at the engagement party and knew right away,” Jin purses his lips. “Psh, yeah, as if I’m that easy to read.” 

Allowing yourself the smallest of laughs, you still can’t seem to rid yourself of that panging guilt. “And… what about Youngji?” 

Jin stares intently at your expression before cracking a smile and chuckling, ruffling your hair, “don’t go crying on me now, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

“But I just,” your voice cracks, “I just hate myself for ruining everything for everyone—”

“—hey,” he cups his fingers underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his, “you did not ruin anything for anyone. I did this. I chose to fight for us.” 

Hesitantly, you nod and he smiles in response. 

“Youngji’s still explaining to her family right now. She told me to find you and Alex told me you would probably here.” 

Frowning, you mutter to yourself, “how did she know…?” 

“Well,” Jin drops his hand from your chin to raise them in the air, “we did promise to swear our wedding vows here, didn’t we?” 

“So what?” you deadpan. “You’re gonna marry me now after all this mess?” 

“I know you really want to marry me as soon as possible, but I think I’m gonna have to take a break from weddings for now.” 

Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “ditto.”

“But hey, I may have already broken the third promise,” one corner of his lips curve into an apologetic smile before he shrugs, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry you in the future! Plus, I may or may not have promised my father I would marry you in the near future to make up for it, so...” 

Scoffing, you gawk, “and who said I would marry you?” 

“Who wouldn’t marry me?!” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, but the mirrored grin that stretches across your lips are undeniable. Soon enough, a loud fit of giggles and cackles fill the air. It happens all too quickly. The banters come to you like second nature, the conversation flows like a river through time, and somehow you find yourself lying beside him on the blazer he had laid out on the grassy hill and star-gazing for hours on end. 

It’s almost like you’ve seen this all before, just five years aged. 

“So,” Jin speaks, “how’s your birthday been?” 

“Oh, shut the hell up.” 

“What?” he cackles, getting up to lean on his arm whilst hovering you. “You know it’s not too late to tell me what you want for your birthday!” 

“I already told you,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn’t joking when I said what I said.” 

Jin smiles, “in that case…”

He leans in to diminish the distance between his lips and yours. A lulling zephyr blows gently on the cherry petals as you close your eyes and you can picture the way they gracefully descend upon the two lovers below. Having witnessed the unforeseeable promises from start to finish, it’s almost as though an old accomplice was applauding a long-awaited finale. 

And when he finally pulls away, eyelids fluttering open just as yours do, he speaks, “happy birthday.” 

“What was that for?” you giggle. 

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “I’m giving you what you wanted for your birthday!”

“Well,” you purse your lips, “where’s my ring to confirm it then?”

“After all this time, do you really need a ring at this point to confirm my love for you?” Jin rolls his eyes. “You know I’ll always want to be by your side, married or not.” 

A fit of laughs escape you as your hand reaches up to squeeze his cheeks, “I know, I know. I’m just joking.”

“Well, good, cause I’m bankrupt at the moment,” Jin sighs, plopping back onto the grass beside you. A momentary silence passes before he turns his head to look at you, “just to make sure, you said you wanted love, right?” 

Turning to meet those sparkles in his gaze, you answer, “yeah?”

“You said you wanted to feel love, right?” 

Your grin grows wider by the second, “yeah?” 

“Well,” he says, “do you feel it?” 

“I do,” you answer. “What about you? Do you feel it?”

The vows hold a truth much closer to his heart this time around, and he smiles as he swears...

“I do, too.” 

[thefanficmonster]

All The Colors

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Colorblindness, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: The colors are not always seen but rather felt. Just like Y/N feels the colors through their best friend and boyfriend Corpse. That’s how they realize that what they can’t see is the most beautiful and genuine feeling in the world. The feeling of knowing something and someone so deeply.

Requested by my dear friend Lulu, who you might have known as greenieofshield. Unfortunately she’ll never get to read this fic and I’ll never forgive myself for not putting it out sooner but I’ll also never forgive the universe for being so cruel as to take her away so early. She was one of the best people I’ve ever met, always so full of optimism, always there to brighten up my day and make me smile. Always so strong and brave, never falling victim to the hate she received despite not being deserving of it. The world lost an angel the day she died and I as well as so many other people will forever miss her.

Love you and miss you with my whole soul and hear, Lulu. Hope they’re treating you right in heaven ❤

For what it’s worth, Y/N has never asked people to describe the colors to them. In their eyes that seemed like the equivalent of poorly patching up a wound: they could hear thousands upon thousands of descriptions of each color and still wouldn’t be able to imagine it. The descriptions would only make that worse to them. So to avoid feeling even more like they’re missing out they never asked.

However, that doesn’t mean they haven’t developed their own way to ‘visualize’ and imagine colors throughout the years. They’ve tried loads of different methods, few of which stuck around and not for long either. That is exactly why they frequently used to tell their friends: “You can’t paint me a rainbow with black and white and shades of grey and expect me not to feel like I’m missing out on something. Paint me the gloomy sky on a rainy day and only then we’ll be even cause you’re seeing the same greys I am.”

Little did they know how drastically their logic was about to change in the following years.

Speaking of said following years - they met Corpse who became one of their best friends in practically no time. And within just a few months of that friendship’s blossoming, a romance sparked. A romance their friends would jokingly refer to as ‘romance of a lifetime’. Maybe it was said jokingly but Lord knows they weren’t wrong in saying so because the two were completely head over heels for one another -s till are to this day - and never shied away from showing it.

Y/N and Corpse met through Rae who Y/N was staying with while on a little vacation to Los Angeles. To be even more specific here, the two met through a game of Among Us, the game responsible for many wonderful friendships since its release.

“Guys, guys, guys.“ Y/N said after sparking up a bickering session for falsely accusing ‘blue‘ of faking a task in Navigation during the final round for the day, “Here’s a little rule of thumb for whenever we play together again: don’t trust me if I accuse a color instead of a name.“ It’s safe to say that statement rose a few eyebrows in the Discord call, the confusion serving as amusement to them before they explained themself, “Oh, why that is? Hm, I don’t know, maybe cause I’m colorblind.”

Rae who was in on the scheme the whole time and was struggling to hold in her laughter finally snapped while the rest of the players were left processing the information that had been dropped on them.

“But you practically kicked our ass every single round?!“ Corpse said, amazement and confusion in his tone.

“Expect the unexpected from this schemer, take it from someone who’s known them for a decade now.“ Rae said, winking at her friend from across the room. Not failing to notice the blush on their cheeks while doing so though.

“Corpse, are you calling me a good liar?“ They poked a stick at him teasingly, desperately avoiding Rae’s gaze which widened the second she realized why her friend was so flustered by Corpse’s remark.

“Practically a con artist.“ He replied to them with a laugh, earning one from them in return.

And so they practically conned him into falling in love with them with their quick wit, sarcasm and cuteness. If someone is to ask Corpse if he expected to fall for Y/N, he’d probably say yes.

“They were like a magnet the moment they entered the lobby and started talking.“ He said once on a live stream in response to a question he received in the chat regarding Y/N, “It wasn’t hard at all, falling for them. What took me a while was realizing it. While I was referring to them as ‘best friend’ all my friends were rolling their eyes and going ‘Sure, bud.’ Just took me a bit to realize why.”

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to grasp what his heart was actually screaming at him. Good thing they came to terms with it so soon too, otherwise they would’ve driven their friends insane.

Anyway, enough about what happened and what could’ve happened under one circumstance or another, what matters is the ‘here and now’ of their relationship. And trust me when I say it has never been better and it keeps getting better every day.

The beauty of what those two have is in the tiny every day things that they do for each other, the good morning texts even though the other person in probably just in the kitchen making breakfast while the other cannot find it in them to get out of bed; or it’s laced within the calls between them when neither of them are home or at least one of them is out and about, busy with a task they’ve probably been putting off for far too long. Don’t get me wrong though, the romantic gestures aren’t rare either. Random gifts are exchanged by them on regular intervals but one consistent and super romantic gesture that repeats a few times every year (of the two years they’ve been dating) is Corpse giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers.

A detail Y/N couldn’t help but take notice of was the fact that the bouquet was always made up of the same flowers with only small changes to the arrangement of them and maybe some tiny ones added too. Unfortunately, they aren’t artificial so they couldn’t have kept them thought they wish they could’ve. That being said, it goes without saying that those flowers mean the world to Y/N, the gesture actually - they know flowers are a common gift to give but anything they receive from Corpse is so special and makes them feel like the only person who’s ever received such a gift.

And so they got curious, they had to ask. They had to ask the question they never thought they’d actively ask considering their view of the topic. But they still did.

“Hey Corpse.“ Y/N spoke up out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen over them while they watched the movie they were only partially interested in given how exhausted they both were from devoting themselves to their respective tasks and responsibilities throughout the last few days.

Corpse hummed in response, the arm wrapped around their waist doing a little motion as if encouraging them to continue, his gaze immediately traveling down to his partner.

“What color are the flowers?“ They asked, gazing at the bouquet - a gift they had received from him for their birthday a few days prior - in the vase on the dining table.

They waited a few seconds but when they didn’t hear nor feel any sort of response from him they couldn’t help but look up at him. Upon doing so, they saw his small smile as his eyes too remained on the bouquet. “They’re black and white.“ He replied eventually, “Black roses and white daffodils.“ His gaze wandered away from the vase and down to meet theirs, “I don’t want you to think I’m seeing them in their ‘full beauty’ while you only see them in black and white. You are seeing them in their full beauty and not missing out on anything. They are absolutely beautiful black and white as they are.“

As a response to his answer, Y/N couldn’t suppress the growing smile on their face no matter how hard they tried. So they didn’t try at all, they let the smile lighten up their face before speaking up: “You’re a wonder, Corpse.” They said, pushing themself as upright as they could to be able to kiss his cheek. “However, you’re wrong.” They say when they pull away, smirking up at his confused expression, “My world was black and white until you came into it. You’re all the colors, Corpse. Your love’s red, joy’s yellow, sadness blue, chaos green. Love red. You’re all the colors and out of all the people that have tried to describe to me how they look, you have managed to do that just perfectly without even trying.”

Little did they know that’s exactly what he thinks of them - their world is black and white because all the colors live within them. Because they are all the colors.

And maybe they both are, seeing as how they came into each other’s lives exactly like the rainbow after the pouring rain.

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[seokjinsonlyone]

fall into your blu

pairing: seokjin x female reader

summary: “You don’t have to look like Beyoncé for me to be attracted to you.”

genre: friends to lovers; fluff; slow burn? kinda

warnings: there’s like a brief joking mention of booty calls; oc is like securely insecure; not much else really lol

rating: pg

wc: 7.1k

“I’m sorry I can’t... accept... this?” She winced, closing the door behind him. Felt kind of bad for not letting him get more than five feet into her place before shooting him down. She just didn’t want to have this conversation outside her building. Felt worse for referring to his confession as if it were a dirty gym sock.

His face fell. “Why not?” She doesn’t know what he thought would happen in this situation honestly. They’ve been friends for a good few years. Jin’s seen what she’s like when these kinds of things happen. 

“Because I’m not pretty,” she stated plainly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to her, it was. 

“You are,” he refuted.

“I’m not.” She wasn’t. She consumed enough media and spent enough time around actual pretty people in her lifetime to note the difference.

“You are to me.”

And well, okay, she wasn’t going to argue with him. Wasn’t any point in that. “But, like, I’m not, and I mean that’s fine for me. Like I accepted it a while ago, but it’s not fine for you.” 

And it was fine. Not being pretty wasn’t the end of. It didn’t make her any less valuable as a person. In fact, it helped her develop a top tier personality. Also, less people bothered her and she didn’t have to worry about anyone having high expectations for her simply because of her appearance. Sure, she cried over her lack of physical beauty every few months, but who didn’t? Such was life as a twenty something.

 “Are you saying this because you don’t like me? You can just tell me if you don’t.” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her, trying to read between the lines of her statement. There wasn’t anything underlying it, though.

“I mean... honestly I can’t say that I’ve put too much thought into us, like, together. But that’s, mainly because you’re out of my league.” Sure when they first met sometimes he’d smile at her and her heart would drop or her stomach would erupt with butterflies when he texted her, but she never let it get much further than that. Nipped it right in the bud. There was no point in a two pining over a ten. Okay, she didn’t see herself quite as a two. On her best days, she was a solid five maybe a five and a half with confidence but still. So, she settled into the role of friend easily and she liked it there. There was no ambiguity, she didn’t have to torture herself trying to analyze every little thing he did and said to her because there was no possibility of more. Until now, she guessed.

“I’m literally not?” He was. 

“You are though.” Jin opened his mouth but she shook her head explaining further. “Objectively speaking, you’re very handsome and you’re a good dude on top of that. We’re friends right?”

He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay and friends should push each other to do better. which is why I can’t accept... your feelings?” She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that he could possibly want to be anything other than friends. She couldn’t believe they were actually friends. The only time she was friends with straight males were when they were friends with her pretty friends and thus were forced into spending time with her and realized she was actually cool aside from, like, not being pretty. “You can get someone who’s hot and a good person.”

“What if I don’t want someone who’s hot and a good person?”

“Then you’re stupid,” she snorted. “I want someone who’s hot and a good person.”

“You literally just said I was both of those things.”

“Yeah, but that’s unrealistic. What would we look like walking next to each other holding hands?”

“A couple.”

She curled her lips at him. “Yeah, a couple of clowns.”

His lips dropped into a small pout clearly unamused with her line of reasoning, which again was very confusing seeing as she was spitting facts. The logic was impenetrable. “I’m being serious,” he whined, “ It took a lot to work up the courage to say something, and you’re kind of breaking my heart.”

And, well she didn’t want that. Like, she didn’t do feelings. Most days she’d rather die than emote, but she ain’t want to break his heart. She sighed, sitting on the couch and running her hands down her face, decidedly tucking her humor-coated defense mechanism away and tried to level with him. “I just don’t understand where all this is coming from?” 

Which wasn’t the entire truth. She noticed he was acting a bit different toward her, a little more soft (lending her his jacket and tucking her underneath his arm when she was cold), a tad more vulnerable (sometimes when she asked the classic ‘how are you?’ he actually told her instead of responding ‘i’m fine’), a bit more thoughtful (when she was over his place the other day and was feeling a bit peckish he had some of her favorite snacks, even the ones he didn’t particularly care for. She looked at him like he had grown a second head, but he shrugged it off with a ‘you like it, don’t you?’). So, she can’t say this is all completely coming from left field, but she genuinely didn’t expect a confession. Didn’t expect him to grab her hand before she could go inside after dropping her off from their day out and tell her “I like you. I like you so much.”

Absently, she wonders if their outing had been some sort of ‘not date’ date. Now that she was thinking about it, they’d been spending a lot of time together just the two of them lately. The first few times when he invited her out she’d come expecting at least a few of their other friends to be with him, but didn’t really think much of their absence. She enjoyed his company and didn’t want him to think otherwise. 

She also wonders if she had been subconsciously leading him on. She never actually rejected any of his advances, if that’s what they actually were. When he wrapped his arm around her, she leaned into his touch. It was, it was odd, but not unwelcome because she was cold. When he confided in her, she listened and tried her best to be comforting and boost him up. As a friend, she felt that was her obligation. When he bought her snacks or paid for her meals, she didn’t put up too much of a fight because well a) free food and b) she treated more than a few times.

“You don’t have to look like Beyoncé for me to be attracted to you.”

She stared at him blankly. He had a point there. Even though she wasn’t anything to write home about and despite her earlier declaration that she wanted someone who was hot, she definitely had crushes on a few people who were worse for wear to say the least. She also knew that if he was here telling her about anyone else, Beyoncé or not, she’d be happy telling him to go for it. But, it wasn’t anyone else. It was her. And, her brain was quite literally short circuiting at the thought of him… and her… them… together. 

Her silence was perturbing him. She could tell by the way he forced a smile onto his face and stood up. “Hey, look, don’t worry about it. It’s, it’s fine. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

But, she wasn’t worried about that. She knew they’d be okay. They had the same personality type. They were very similar in many ways. She knew that if she really wasn’t for it, they’d still be friends. She would give him a little space, and if they happened to be brought together through their mutual friends she’d ignore whatever crush he’d allowed himself to develop and pretend everything was fine. Jin would deal with his feelings privately and put on a smile in front of her. It might be a bit awkward for a while, but they’d be okay. She knew that. It’s why she reached out her hand, interlocking their fingers, to stop him before he walked away. 

“Hey, don’t– don’t go. I mean, you can if you want to, but like–“ What was she trying to say? If you looked into her brain it’d probably resemble that one episode of spongebob when all the files got thrown out trying to figure out fine dining and everything was up in flames. The little hers running around her mind didn’t know what to do. She took a deep breath. “Like I said before, I haven’t really thought about us, but I’m not… opposed to it.”

His shoulders slouched and he released a breath looking back down at her, squeezing her palm. “Okay, okay, that’s good. A chance is all I’m asking for.” He shot her a small smile, then flicked her forehead.  “I’ll still go, though. Let you get a head start on thinking. I know it takes you a while.”

Her jaw dropped feeling utterly scandalised. “I changed my mind. I don’t even wanna be friends anymore.”

“Pffftttt. You wouldn’t be able to live without me.”

She scoffed in return. “Yeah right. In your dreams.”

“Yes, you are.” He dropped a wink and spun out the door.

She stared blankly in his wake. Did he just admit to dreaming about her? 

She sank down further in the bathtub, face being the only thing left unsubmerged. Well, her face and like the entirety of her legs. They were leant against the wall of the shower. She wasn’t tall by any means, but her tub definitely was not meant for the soaking she liked to do. 

Despite being young, she felt like she inhabited the body of someone twice her age and could honestly lay semi conscious in hot water (nearing cool by the time she got out) until you couldn’t distinguish her from a dried date. She also just liked being in the bathroom because it was the only place she was truly alone and disconnected. Well, her phone was always an arms length away because not having her phone nearby gave her anxiety and not every time she entered a bathroom did she want to be left to her thoughts. Too much time in her mind was detrimental to her mental well-being. 

However, she had a lot to dissect tonight. She thought taking a bath would calm her down and while it did help channel her thoughts a bit, it did nothing to stop the fluttering in her heart. It was nice to know that she was liked. That someone saw something in her she didn’t see in herself. It also helped that said person was one of the most objectively handsome people she’s ever seen. But, that’s what worried her the most. It was fine that he liked her. It would be fine if that was all it was. If she could live in this purgatory of being liked, of having his attention no strings attached she would. She held the upper hand. He essentially handed his heart over to her while hers was still firmly beating in her own chest. But, what would happen if she started to reciprocate his feelings? If she gave him her heart in return?

Because the thing is, she knows it would be easy to give into him. It was easy being his friend. They just clicked in all the right places. It’s not like they were super close. Like, they’d definitely grown closer over the last few months, enthralling each other in late night text conversations and sending so many voice messages one could argue that they’d might as well been on a phone call (that consumed a very different level of social energy they both rarely could expel tho), but again it wasn’t the fear of losing him that made her hesitate. It was the fear of losing herself. If she gave herself over to him fully and somewhere along the line he decided he didn’t want her, it’d devastate her. She could almost see the heartbreak, the loss of self esteem, the ongoing existential crises from there. It was scary. 

And it’s not like she thought Jin would intentionally hurt her because she didn’t; she trusted him. He was very honest and sincere. It was something she greatly admired about him. He was soft in all the places she was hard. Rounded in all the places she was sharp, and it made her grateful that life was kind of enough to grant him such privileges. Life hadn’t been as kind to her. When you grow up not being pretty on top of lacking social skills on top of having uncommon interests, things tend to be a bit different, more difficult. 

Still, she wondered when would she ever get this opportunity again? It’d taken this long for one to arise, who knows if another chance would ever come.  And as much as she liked to think about each and every way this situation could go wrong she owed it to Jin, to herself, to think about what could happen if things went right. Typically hope and expectations were squashed down immediately. It was the number one way to play yourself, but just this once she allowed her mind to wander to the optimism deep within.

Them as a couple seemed a bit far fetched from a bird’s eye view, but personally she could kind of see them together. She could see herself happy with him and vice versa. Could almost make out him staring at her in adoration. Maybe they could be in love. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. But maybe. Just maybe, it might work. 

She felt strange. In a good way. Kind of like she unlocked some sort of hidden secret to life. She felt normal. And, it’s not like she was some kind of weird, misfit, loner. She was cool. She had a good group of friends. She had acquaintances. Her coworkers all liked her and they bonded over their mutual dissatisfaction with their place of employment. But, she’d never had whatever this was. Sure, she’s been the object of a few people’s affections but never ones she would ever think about looking twice at. In turn, she’s had a few crushes who didn’t look in her direction. This was different though, Jin was looking at her and he was… definitely in her peripherals.

It wasn’t as if years of repressed feelings came rushing to the surface when he told her he liked her because they genuinely weren’t like that. But, the more she toyed with the idea the more appealing it sounded. She couldn’t allow herself to dive head first though. She needed to be sure this was real. It’s why she texted him after a few days of very little interaction, only signs of life in the videos she sent him from tiktok and his phone generated reactions.

[6:42pm] y/n: you up? 👀

She tried to be as casual as possible, but she’d never been this nervous texting him before. A little afraid he’d rescind his confession.

[6:45pm] jinnie from the block: it’s not even 7 why wouldn’t i be up

[6:47pm] y/n: ion know 🤷‍♀️ i heard old people go to sleep early

[6:47pm] y/n: have dinner round bout 4 and sleep by the time sun sets

[6:48pm] jinnie from the block: omg i’m not that much older than you

[6:48pm] jinnie from the block: anyway what’s up? this a booty call??

She nearly dropped her phone on her face.

[6:48pm] y/n: JIN ADSFLJADSFLJ

[6:48pm] y/n: have some decency booty call hours are between 10pm and 3am

[6:49pm] y/n: ion make them kinds of propositions in the light of day 😤🤚

[6:49pm] y/n: no omg i just wanted to know if you wanted to grab lunch tomorrow?

[6:51pm] jinnie from the block: booty ✍️  call ✍️ between ✍️ 10 ✍️  and ✍️ 3 ✍️. Got it.

[6:52pm] jinnie from the block: you asking me out on a date??? 👁👄👁

Her brain short circuited once again. Was she asking him out on a date? She didn’t think she was. She might’ve been. She was going to tell him that she was going to give him the chance he asked for. Things would change a little after that, wouldn’t they? They’d be like seeing each other. She was probably making this a bigger deal than it needed to be. She could tell she definitely was when he texted her again after she failed to respond for five minutes.

[6:57pm] jinnie from the block: hey sorry i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

[6:58pm] jinnie from the block: i was just joking. it doesn’t have to be a date 

[7:01pm] y/n: lol no ur fine that was fine i’m just being 🤠😃🤡

[7:02pm] y/n: i mean it’s not not a date

[7:02pm] y/n: like what really is a date 🧐

[7:03pm] y/n: according to google it’s a social or romantic appointment or engagement so i guess technically it is a date

[7:04pm] jinnie from the block: sweet ❤️ where we going

Now she was standing in front of the place they’d arranged to meet up, telling herself to calm down. No need to be feeling lightheaded at the sight of Jin. It was just her friend who liked her. Her friend that could be her boyfriend in a few weeks. It was fine. Everything was fine. She decidedly squashed the majority of those feelings down and entered the building. She was already ten minutes late, but he should’ve known by now that time was relative to her.

She circled her head around the area trying to spot him. She for sure saw his car in the lot. It didn’t take long to find him seated in a booth at the far corner of the restaurant. Was a wave a sufficient greeting? Was she supposed to hug him? A handshake would be weird, right? Why was she so unfamiliar with the protocol for this situation? So caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized she already approached the table and was hovering awkwardly next to it. 

He scrunched his face up at her. “Don’t be weird about it. Sit down.”

“I’m not being weird about it.” She was. But, like, now she didn’t know where to sit. Across from him? That left room for a lot of eye contact. Did she want that? Sitting next to him felt rather intimate though. She didn’t get to make that decision as Jin rolled his eyes and pulled her down into the spot next to him then flicked her head. She let out a small squeak at the action. “Why you keep doing that?”

“Because you keep being weird.”

“I’m cooler than you,” she scoffed. 

“Are you?”

“Yes,” she bit back before retracting her answer, giggling. “No. Well, maybe. See you act weird and then apologise for it. I never apologise for my weird behaviour.”

He raised one brow at her. “And that makes you cooler than me?”

“Uh, yah. In movies, the cool girl is always the one who’s quirky and never apologises for being so.”

“Mhm. Okay,” he said dismissively, beginning to peruse the menu. “If you could be in a movie, which one would you be in?”

“A bug’s life,” she replied immediately.

His eyes widened, looking down at her. “No hesitation? A Bug’s Life? Have you been waiting to be asked this your whole life?”

She shrugged. “No, it was just the first movie that popped into my head. I’ll stick to it, though. You got an innovative social outcast who brings together a ragtag bunch of misfits who end up starting and winning a class war and saving their people from subsequent oppression. Overthrowing the bourgeoisie? Now that’s what I’ve been waiting my whole life to do.”

He chuckled. “I can’t believe you just used the word ragtag.”

“Using the word ragtag is also something I’ve been waiting my whole life to do. There are surprisingly little opportunities to use it. You know what else there is surprisingly little of? Quicksand.”

From there they launched into conversation about any and everything. She was talking so much, so animatedly that she barely touched her food. She’d take a bite every now and then when he tapped her plate with his utensils, but he ultimately picked at her food more than she did, stealing small bites in between her musings on various conspiracy theories. It wasn’t rare for her to not eat while engaged in conversation, but it was rare for her to be engaged so deeply in conversation outside her really close girl friends. She took a mental note at the fact and added it to the ever growing list of reasons why being with him wouldn’t be so bad. 

At some point, she’d begun to turn towards him, so much so that by the time she’d gotten a to-go box for the rest of her meal that she was nearly completely facing him. He was listening to her ramble on about straws being a cash grab by the fast food industry with his elbow on the table, head propped up on his hand, a small smile gracing his face when he reached for her hair sweeping a few strands that escaped from the mass of curls she had pinned back away from her eye. She stopped talking instantly, mind going blank. She ain’t never had her hair swept back, her face gently caressed by a man.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not,” she protested, face heating up further.

“You are.” 

She wanted to knock the amused smirk off his face. Retribution would come at some point. “I’m brown. You can’t tell if I’m blushing.”

He snorted. “It’s written all over your face and,” he pressed a palm to her cheek, “your cheeks are on fire.”

She smacked his hand away. “They’re not. I’m just naturally hot blooded.” That was a lie. They both knew it.

“You’re anemic. You are the coldest person I know. You cry when the weather drops below 70.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. It was in her moment of shame, unintentionally expressing feelings, that she remembered the whole reason they were there in the first place. She always forgot herself once she got started up on the bourgeoisie. Still, she was unsure how to approach the topic. She wrestled back and forth for a few seconds before mentally shrugging. Direct was probably best. They were both grown. “So… you like me?”

He gulped, seemingly nervous at the shift in topic. “Hey, listen, like I said don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“I mean… if you want me to forget about it I will. Otherwise, I was willing to worry about it.” 

His eyes widened at you, catching your gaze before looking downwards. “Really?”

She smacked his arm, sliding out of the booth and grabbing the bag holding her food which he took out of her hand after he slid out. “What? You think I’m mean or something?” To be fair she was a little mean, but she wasn’t cruel. “You think I would sit here and have lunch with you if I was gonna tell you to leave me alone after?”

“I don’t know! You were calling me bro this whole time. I thought you were preparing me for the friendzone!”

She rolled her eyes. “Bro, I call everyone bro.”

“That’s not true. You call children honey,” he corrected, holding the door open for her.

She pursed her lips at him. It was weird to know that Jin had been actively perceiving her. Like he just knew stuff about her. And it’s not like she didn’t know anything about him; they’d been friends for a while. But, she didn’t pay special attention to things like how he addressed children. It made her feel… something. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” she gesticulated wildly trying to figure out the right words to say. “I don’t know. It’s weird that you notice me. That you like me. Nobody likes me.”

“My name’s Seokjin actually,” he joked. She rolled her eyes. “Besides I’ve been noticing you for a while, there’s a lot to like,” he admitted, voice softening.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. She liked the way he made her feel. It was scary, but she liked it. She liked it so much that she threw caution to the wind and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked side by side. She could feel him burning a whole into the side of her face, but she refused to make eye contact. She was acting so out of character. She was going to have a serious chat with herself later. “Don’t be weird about it,” she mimicked.

He giggled but stopped staring at her so she guessed it was alright. “You into PDA?”

“Ummm… I don’t think so? It doesn’t seem like something I’d be very into. I mean, this is okay,” she answered, swinging their conjoined hands slightly before tacking on, “Is this– is this okay for you?” and looking up timidly. 

“This is okay for me,” he confirmed, squeezing her hand. “You’re so cute. You try to act all icy like you’re the abominable snowman, but really you’re just bigfoot.”

“I can’t believe you just called me cute and bigfoot in the same sentence.”

“Well, you’re definitely not a normal creature.”

“But, why I gotta be a cryptid?”

“What would you prefer to be?”

She mulled it over for a few moments. “Nah. You’re right bigfoot works for me. A myth and a legend is what I strive to be.”

“It’s what you already are.”

She smiled to herself as they continued walking. She didn’t know where they were going seeing as they both drove but didn’t speak up. She liked this. Liked how normal everything felt. They were like how they always were except now they held hands and flirted a little. It was nice. 

“Hey,” he said a few minutes later, pulling her from her thoughts, loosening his grip on her hand and opening the door to an ice cream shop. Hmmm. A man with a plan. Nice. “You wanna go to Jimin’s later? He invited me yesterday.”

“Is Jungkook gonna be there?” She asked absentmindedly, filling her cup with various flavours.  

“Why?”

“He’s my little brother, and I love him.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s six months older than you and Korean.”

“First of all, families can look however they want. It’s what’s on the inside the counts. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing? Ohana means family,” she countered, sitting at one of the tables. “Second, age is a social construct.”

“Alright, I can let you slide on your first point, but age is not a social construct.”

“It is, though. Think about it. What is one year? The time it takes the earth to revolve around the sun. The earth was just in a slightly different position than it was when he was born from when I was born. Think about it in terms of light years. 1 light year is about 5.9 trillion miles. The earth travels about 584 million miles around the sun. Cut that in half and you get 292 million miles. Which is like 5 hundredths of 1 light year. Scale that down and you’re literally sitting further than how much older Jungkook is than me.”

He stared blankly at her. “You say so much nonsense on a regular basis that I forget how smart you are. But, also it’s impressive how you’re able to say such nonsense in such an intelligent manner.”

“It’s part of my charm.”. 

He shook his head. “Anyway, Jungkook?”

“He owes me $10. Keeps asking me to buy him snacks or adding his stuff to mine when we go to the convenience store. If he’s there, I plan to attack.” He hummed in response. “What about Yoongi? And before you ask me why, it’s because he’s my soulmate.”

“I hate to break it to you babe, but Yoongi is my soulmate.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I don’t. I’ve known him longer.”

She scoffed. “Okay, and? In most dramas they introduce the second male lead first. You just paved the way for me homie.”

“You and Yoongi are the same person and therefore cannot be soulmates.”

She paused mid bite. “That’s fair. I guess he can be my duplicate and your soulmate. I would say he’s my twin, but he already banned me from calling him that.”

“So, you in?”

“Mmm… I guess.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “What are we gonna do about–“ she gestured between the two of them, “Like, I mean I know this is like, brand new, fresh from the womb. But–“

“They know,” he breathed out through a laugh, ending her rambling.

“They know?” Her eyebrows shot up. They knew? Was she the only one in their group oblivious to his feelings? 

“Well, they know everything up until what happened today. You mad?” he asked, obviously worried at the possibility of upsetting her.

She wasn’t particularly nosy. Wouldn’t have pried too much even if she suspected something was up. Still she didn’t like being out the loop. But, she guessed she was the most in the loop now, so there wasn’t really anything to be upset about now. Only thing she could hope for is that whatever they were doing worked out. It’d be humiliating otherwise. “Nah. Those are your boys. I get it.” 

He was allowed to talk to them about his life even if it did involve her. Even if they were friends as well. She would eventually tell her girls. She was just a bit emotionally stunted and unnecessarily private so it took longer to open up about her life. She would tell them sometime soon. Or they would find out from one of the guys and be cornered into spilling everything. Whichever came first. That was, if this even amounted to anything.

She hoped it did.

Thirty minutes before she was supposed to get off, she sent a text to Jin letting him know she definitely would not be getting off in thirty minutes. It sucked because she hadn’t seen him in a week, and they were supposed to be going on a date tonight. There was no way, though, that she could leave her department in good conscience. She just added it to the ever growing list of frustrations that had been piling up. 

Today was the third day in a row her coworkers left the entire day’s work for her during the night. How could two people waste eight hours (sixteen total) doing absolutely nothing? She didn’t like to work herself but she did it because that was what she was being paid to do. She did it because she hated for others to be left with an overwhelming amount of tasks. Apparently, she was the only one who shared such a sentiment in her department. 

To add insult to injury she also hadn’t slept very well that night, she didn't get a chance to eat or drink today, and she missed Jin. She took a deep breath, pushing away the burning sensation building behind her eyes and kept moving.

Within five minutes of entering her home, she was in the shower eager to wash the day away. She sighed deeply as the hot water hit her shoulders, cascading down the rest of her body. It allowed her to get rid of the thoughts of work. She didn’t like to bring it home physically or mentally. What happened happened. Knowing her coworkers it would probably happen again. She truly liked them as people but sometimes their work ethic made her want to strangle them. 

Now her main concern was Jin. They’d been dating for a little over a month and a half. Or, well, seeing each other. Things still hadn’t been labelled. They went on dates though. Was that considered dating? She made a mental note to google dating. Either way, she missed him. A lot. More than she thought she would. And, it’s not like they saw each other every single day, but seven consecutive days was a lot. She’s kind of grateful for it though. It made her realize how much she liked him. Up until now, she was still approaching everything surrounding him with a healthy level of skepticism. Feeling him out. Feeling herself out. Trying to see if continuing down this road was really worth it. If it was something she truly wanted not because she liked to be liked but because she liked him. 

And, she did. So much. Before he was just her very chaotic friend. Her go-to for group shenanigans. But when she really paid attention to him, there was just so much to like. She liked how he texted her good morning and good night every day. First, she thought it was corny. Asked him why he was texting her like her grandma only for her heart to end up in a puddle when he told her he had to let her know he was thinking of her when he first woke up and just before he went to sleep. She liked how respectful he was of her boundaries (even when she didn’t necessarily want him to be). “I know I have a bit of a head start, so I’m sorry if that was too much. I don’t want to rush you,” he’d apologized a few weeks ago after kissing her cheek while dropping her home. It caught her a bit off guard, yeah, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Like at all. And yeah she did still like how chaotic he was. Liked how he helped her beat up Jungkook that one night (she didn’t really want any money back. She never minded buying him snacks here and there. Just didn’t want him to know that and get too comfortable. Had to keep the upper hand for the big sister agenda). He was still her best friend and she liked that. 

She planned on telling him as much tonight, which was why this turn of events was so upsetting. Deep down she knew that a few more days wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t a life or death situation. It would be fine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that. But, as it stood none of her basic needs were being met and her day was awful and she just couldn’t bring the little optimism that lived deep, deep, deep down within her to the surface. So, it was with a heavy heart that she got dressed following her shower and began her daily stare down with the contents of her refrigerator.

She has no idea why she didn’t stop and get food before she came home. She knew she ain’t have anything. Can’t imagine why she thought ‘the food at the crib’ (rotting spinach, a tangerine, and cranberry-grape juice) was gonna sustain her. A whine bubbled up in her throat and the burning sensation behind her eyes returned with a vengeance. She was seconds away from unloading the emotional baggage the week packed onto her, when a knock sounded at the door.

Quickly, she swallowed back all her feelings and prayed whoever decided to show up would be quick lest they be subject to her breakdown. Yet, it was precisely the person at the door who launched her breakdown into full speed.

Jin. With takeout.

She was so overcome with emotion at the sight of him that she immediately burst into tears. She made it a point not to cry too often because it was an ordeal for her. Her eyes got all red and puffy and she got a headache then she needed to sleep. An ordeal. Probably because when she cried she tended to cry for her past, present, and future; but that was a story for a therapy session she’d probably never go to. 

He quickly sat the food down on her coffee table and wrapped her in his arms as she gave way to tears. She cried for all the bad things she’d been going through. She cried for the week they spent apart. She cried for the awful day she had. She cried because her next shift would probably be just as bad. Unexpectedly, though, she also cried tears of relief. She was so relieved that Jin was there. She’s missed him so much. She was relieved he brought food because she was starving. She was relieved he cared about her at all. “What are you doing here?” she hiccuped out, attempting to even out her breathing and draw this crying spell to a close.

“I still wanted to hang out tonight,” he explained gently, “Also my spidey senses told me you hadn’t ate yet.”

She choked out a laugh, nuzzling her face further into his chest. Not quite ready to leave the cocoon she’d trapped herself in. She needed a moment to gather herself and her thoughts together because the urge to spill her guts was raging. She knew the second she looked into his eyes she’d be giving her heart to him. Also, she really enjoyed the way his hands rubbed circles on her back. 

They stayed huddled for a couple more minutes before she pulled back, looking up at him. He was so beautiful up close it was unreal. He brought his hands up from her waist, cupping her cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I look like a teletubby right now.”

“You actually look like Mrs. Puff.” 

She stuttered out another laugh, smacking his chest noting the wet patch she left. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“It’ll dry.” He dropped his hands back down, this time settling upon her hips. “Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head. Didn’t feel like rehashing her day. Would rather live in this moment. “Just a very long day and I– I, um–“ she gulped, forcing the words out “–I missed you.” She was on a roll now. Might as well get it all out there. “A lot. And… I really like you Seokjin. I’m sorry it took so long to say it. But, um, yeah I do. And, I want to be with you.”

Her eyes remained firmly fixed on his chest, heat washing over her form. Why did she feel so embarrassed right now? It’s not like he was going to reject her. Still, she refused to meet his gaze. That was until he lifted her chin with his finger. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. “Don’t be weird about it,” he smiled, cupping her face with one hand and bringing the hand at her hip to her neck, pressing their lips together.

She knew it was coming. He literally announced it before he started kissing her, but it didn’t stop her entire body from tensing up the second as she felt the gentle pressure of his lips against hers. In fact, she felt herself astral projecting, soul hovering just outside of her body to confirm it was inhabiting the right person. Then, all at once she came back to herself and melted into his touch slowly bringing her arms to wrap around his waist. Why hadn’t they been doing this the whole time? When will she be able to do it again?

He gently sucked on her bottom lip for a few seconds before pulling away slightly leaving a series of pecks in his wake. He rested his forehead against hers as they broke apart. Her heart was beating so fast she felt like she was gonna throw up. Or cry. Or both. This probably wasn’t the best position for him. He had a good few inches on her. Still, she didn’t want to pop the bubble they’d created. That was until her stomach loudly rumbled doing exactly that. 

Her mind then became solely preoccupied with obtaining some form of sustenance. “What kind of food did you bring?” she asked, dropping to her knees in front of the coffee table where the abandoned takeout was sitting and rifling through the bags herself. “Chinese. Nice.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “That’s my girl.”

“So… you’re my boyfriend now,” she stated leaning back against the couch once her food tunnel vision widened out. Which was, like, kind of a big deal. She was never one to define relationships even if it was pretty obvious. Didn’t like to take the chance of being rejected. But, he’d put himself out there enough. She could do this one thing and she was like 87.2% sure they were on the same page. 

“It seems so.”

He wrapped an arm around her tugging her closer before pressing a kiss against her cheek. Warmth flooded through her system and her heart began to swell followed by a wave of mortification as she thought about what this really meant. “Bro, this is so embarrassing.”

“Hey!” he whined. The arm used to cuddle her was now being used to keep her in a headlock. 

“F in the chat for our fallen soldier.” She fake sniffled. “What am I supposed to tell Yoongi? We made a pact. We were supposed to die alone together.”

“Suddenly, I’m regretting this entire thing.”

“We have to put up an iron wall in front of the boys. I have a reputation to protect. They can’t know I feel.”

“We’ve been dating for almost 2 months already.” So, it was dating.

“Yeah, but they were being oddly nice about it,” she pouted. They were. They knew her. Knew this was way  out of her comfort zone and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. And, they definitely didn’t want to do or say anything to mess this up for Jin. But, now that they were official she’s sure pandora’s box was about to be opened. Everything they’d been holding back was going to be unleashed. “It’s all over now. The teasing will be relentless.”

“I’m your boyfriend now. You’re my girlfriend. I’ll protect you,” he declared proudly.

She snorted. “Corny.” She loved it.

[stardusttkachuk]

Breaking Rules

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: The rules are no pogue on pogue mackin’. You and JJ sneak away from John B’s party and find yourself in the old Volkswagen, breaking that rule.

You slide the door to the van open, quickly climbing inside with JJ right behind you. JJ can’t keep his hands off of you; they’re on your lower back as he all but shoves you inside. They find their way to your thigh before he’s even gotten the door closed and then they’re on your cheeks and in your hair as he kisses you. 

He tastes a little bit like weed, but mostly of mint. Spearmint to be exact, a taste you’ve gotten used to when kissing his lips. Five and a half months ago the kisses were short and sweet and not much to savor, but now every chance you had it was hot makeouts that lead to more.

Nobody could know though. There was a strict rule of no pogue on pogue macking, one that everyone had agreed to follow when the rules first came about. So for the last five months, you and JJ had been sneaking around. You shared kisses behind your friends back and snuck off together whenever you had the chance. Tonight was no different. The party that John B was hosting at his place was the perfect opportunity for a getaway. The old Volkswagen was questionable as the most private spot, but it was far enough away from the house, and offered shelter and warmth. And who was going to come looking in the van? John B wasn’t going anywhere, and from past experience you knew Pope and Kiara would be spending the night too. The van was all yours for the evening.

JJ grabs a blanket from the front seat and spreads it out on the floor of the back. It isn't much more comfortable but at least it’s softer and warmer than the hardwood that covered the back of the Volkswagen. 

JJ sits on the blanket with his back against the bench seat and pulls you into his lap. Your knees are on either side of his legs and you’ve got his face in your hands as your makeout session continues. JJ slips his hands under your shirt, cupping around your breasts. He’s got you moaning at his touch already. 

He pulls away from the kiss just enough to rid you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. You follow suit and pull his over his head, throwing it somewhere behind you, long forgotten as his lips are on yours again.

JJ unbuttons your shorts, slipping his hand down the front of them and into your panties. His fingers glide over your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud. You moan which makes JJ attach his lips to yours to quiet you down. 

“We’re gonna get caught,” he whispers.

“Well if you’d stop fucking teasing me,” you start, only for JJ to lie you down on your back and kiss you again. 

Your shorts and panties join your shirt somewhere in the old van as JJ pulls them off. His fingers return to your clit and move down until his middle finger is teasing your entrance. It isn’t long before he’s got two fingers inside you, crooking them against your g-spot and watching you writhe beneath him. 

JJ loves foreplay. He’ll prolong sex as long as possible, always wanting to see how many times he can get you to fall apart. He’s good at it too. He knows exactly where to touch you and which spots have you moaning and begging for more. He knows how to make you cum before he’s even entered you, and he loves making you cum. 

“JJ,” you moan, hand gripping onto his bicep. You’re already close, and the sounds you’re making are keeping JJ going, faster now, letting you chase your release.

His fingers are soaked when he pulls them out. He hungrily sucks them into his mouth, licking them clean. He does it every time, practically fawning over the way you taste. If you had more time, you’d happily let him eat you out, but you know the rest of the pogues will realize your guys’ absence and come looking for you soon.

JJ’s cock is hard and tenting the board shorts he’s wearing. You slip them down just past his hips, watching his member spring up, precum leaking out of the tip. He sits down again with his back against the bench seat and pulls you onto his lap. He lowers you onto his cock, biting his lip to silence the moans he desperately wants to let out.

The new position felt amazing. A lot of the time you’ve settled for standard missionary, or JJ lying down and you on top. Sometimes you’d have a quickie in the shower, pressed up against the tile wall. But sitting on his lap like this was new. It felt closer than you just riding him. You were literally face to face, chest to chest, and it allowed a new, much deeper angle. It was harder to keep quiet.

You took the lead and slowly lifted yourself up before sinking back down on him. His head tipped back, hands finding your waist as he aided in the lifting and dropping. You took the opportunity to nip at his neck, carelessly sucking a mark into his skin, right under his jaw where you knew he loved it the most. The others would point it out later and would congratulate him on getting some, then ask who it was. You took pride in knowing it was all your doing.

JJ was a mess of moans. His fingers were digging half moon shapes into the skin on your hips. Your name would fall from his lips every time you changed speed or rocked against him in a new way. The best part of it was how close you were. He didn’t need to be loud - although he wasn’t exactly quiet - you could hear each whispered plea, feel his hot breath against your skin as it picked up from your activities. There was sweat dripping off of each of you, but neither of you cared, far too lost in the moment with each other.

You were so close to cumming again and you knew by the sound of JJ’s voice that he was too. Your movements became sloppy. JJ tried to make it consistent, bouncing you faster on his cock, making you drop down harder, even lifting his own hips up, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Fuck,” JJ cursed, forehead pressed against yours. He kissed your lips, drowning out the sounds of you both tipping over the edge. It was the first time you had ever come at the same time, and damn did it feel amazing. You were on cloud nine until you heard the familiar voices nearing the van.

“JJ! Y/N!” Pope called.

You scrambled off of JJ’s lap, searching around desperately for your shorts. JJ pulled up his bottoms, quickly resituating himself against the bench seat. He grabbed a pre rolled joint that was stuffed under one of the bags in the back, lighting it quickly and placing it between his lips.

You had managed to throw on your shorts and JJ’s shirt in the dark, sitting across from him and leaning against the backs of the front seats. “Gimme a hit,” you say, reaching out for the joint.

“No. Get your own!” JJ retorts.

“I hear them!” It’s Kie’s voice this time, and then it’s the sound of footsteps approaching the beaten up Volks.

She slides open the side door, the back suddenly illuminating with the interior light. “Where have you guys been?”

“Out here. Hot boxing the van,” JJ answers smoothly.

Kiara’s eyes dart towards you. “Why are you wearing JJ’s shirt?”

“I spilled beer all over mine,” you lie, holding up your own shirt that’s bunched up in your hands. “So, JJ lent me his.”

“John B’s freaking out looking for you guys,” Pope pipes up. 

“Why?”

“Someone said there was a car accident like 10 miles away. He couldn’t find you guys anywhere and neither of you were answering your phones,” Pope explains.

“Shit. Mine’s on silent,” you say. 

“I never even heard mine ring,” JJ adds. 

“You are pretty faded. Maybe you shouldn’t be smoking that one,” you tease, grabbing the joint from his fingers. After a quick puff yourself you extinguish the end of it, still saving plenty for another time.

“Hey!” JJ yells. “First you’re gonna take my shirt and now my weed?”

“Yes. Now let’s go, so John B stops freaking out.”

You climb out of the back of the van with JJ right behind you. Pope stops JJ though, as you and Kiara walk in front of them and back up to the chateau. 

“Nice hickey, J,” you hear him say. 

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Kie must notice the red tint to them because her jaw drops. “You are not screwing JJ,” she says through gritted teeth. “And in the back of the van too!?”

You put a finger to your lips, shushing her. “I will tell you everything if you just promise not to tell anyone else.”

“You broke pogue rules,” she whispers.

You glance back at JJ, who is flaunting the hickey to Pope who is completely oblivious to the fact that you gave it to him. “We’ve been breaking them for almost six months now.”

“And how long are you planning on keeping this a secret?”

JJ’s eyes catch yours and he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. “As long as we can.”

[hongism]

undertow - 18+ teaser

- rating: m/18+ - pairing: seonghwa x fem reader, yeosang x fem reader, mingi x fem reader - genre: pwp, smut - summary: undertow. a new and budding sex club that your best friend wooyoung somehow dragged you out to. what you find there - well, more accurately the people you find there - manage to show you exactly what all the hype is about. - warnings: explicit smut, watersports, spanking, kink negotiation, choking, degradation, dirty talk, praise, oral sex: m, anal, double penetration, creampie, a bit of breeding/impregnation kink if u squint, sir/daddy kink, dom/sub themes, a bit of voyeurism and exhibitionism, seonghwa has a cane, and he uses it, to spank, verbal consent is ~sexy~, so is protected sex but not in this fic sorry besties 👻 - pre-a/n: coming may 7th @nomseok​ hey bestie hahahahha ummm hehahhehahahe love u get ready 🥳

“Care for a drink?”

“Ah, no thank you, I don’t drink alcohol,” you respond without caring to look up at the newcomer.

“Good thing it’s just water then.” You can almost hear the smirk to his tone, and when you jerk your head to meet his gaze, you find a smile twisting his lips. Fuck, he’s tall. Dark hair covers part of his forehead, the other half swept to the side to unveil the smooth expanse of skin underneath. “Park Seonghwa, it’s quite a pleasure to meet you. You’ve had me waiting eagerly for tonight.” He holds a glass tumbler in one hand that is filled with clear liquid — water, no doubt — but his other hand is occupied by a sleek black cane, one decorated with a glinting silver wolf head at the top of it. The sight of it is a bit startling seeing as the man before you doesn’t seem much older than you; it seems even more unlikely that he needs the assistance of the walking cane, but you aren’t too quick to jump to conclusions.

“Thank you,” you manage instead of commenting on the odd cane, taking the glass from his waiting fingers with a small smile. “Nothing for yourself?”

“No, my drink is waiting for me upstairs. I prefer red wine to the harder liquors the bar offers.” Your new companion sinks to the armchair beside you, crossing on leg over the other before draping his cane overtop his knee. The slight movements have you staring intently at his lap against your will. It must be enough to pique his interest though, because that smirk returns to his lips. This time it’s accompanied by the teasing poke of his tongue at the edge of his mouth, pushing the skin just enough to leave you wanting more, and your heart rams mercilessly against the confines of your chest. “Is that still something you would like from me then?”

You wet your lips out of habit, a miniscule nervous tick and nothing more, but it betrays how affected you truly are. It’s stupid really — all he did was sit down and move the slightest bit, yet sweat is already beading your brow and you feel short of breath. And you’re supposed to somehow be able to handle three men just like this?

He bends at the waist, stretching across the space between your bodies, and you don’t even see him shift the cane in his lap before the end of it is caught under your chin. The cool metal has you jolting in your seat. He tilts your head up a hair, just enough to make you look him in the eye. The tension hanging in the air is almost palpable, and it’s suffocating enough to have your grip on the water glass loosening more by the second.

“Words are preferred when I ask questions of you, darling.”

[bbangsoonie]

just u

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 1,903 synopsis: sunwoo thinks you’re a flirty drunk but doesn’t notice you only flirt with him.

a/n: oc’s facial flush after drinking alcohol is mentioned once in the fic

Eric: giant sleepover at hyunjae’s tonight

Hyunjae: this is news to me ??

Eric: be prepared to pull an all-nighter because we are doing everything from watching movies to playing games to ✨drinking✨

Sangyeon: his house is also my house ???

Eric: y/n, can you pick up some snacks and drinks with sunwoo?

You: sure

Sunwoo: this is news to me as well ?

Eric: see you all at 6! i know no one has classes today and tomorrow’s saturday so i expect full attendance :)

Juyeon: again, our house is not just solely hyunjae’s ???? younghoon and i live here as well ;-;

Eric’s impromptu gathering was in no way organized but he knew everyone would go along with it. Your group of friends consisted of the most spontaneous people you’ve ever met. They were always down for anything, anytime.

That was how you ended up going grocery shopping with Sunwoo and Haknyeon after you stopped by campus for your professor’s office hours. You ran into Haknyeon there who wanted to tag along to make sure you bought his favorite snacks.

“Any requests for chasers?” you called out to the boys who were an aisle away. You scanned the shelves of sodas in front of you, trying to recall who liked what drinks.

“Chasers are for babies,” Haknyeon scoffed as he made his way over to you.

“I’m baby,” you proudly pointed at yourself.

“Are you referring to the Kirby meme right now?” he blinked. When you nodded, he pretended to gag, making you slap his back.

“Do you guys think this is enough alcohol?” Sunwoo arrived with a cart full of bottles. You almost laughed at the amount of cases. Anyone passing by would think you were shopping wholesale. Which honestly didn’t sound like a bad idea for a group of 12.

“Should be,” Haknyeon shrugged, taking over the cart. “Now time for the good stuff!”

You and Sunwoo watched as he threw in bags of chips and jelly into the cart. You only picked out one or two for yourself since Haknyeon was essentially just getting everything. There was a wide variety for you to choose from anyway. Sunwoo had to physically stop him from adding more stuff, insisting that there’d be dinner as well.

With Hyunjae in charge of ordering food, it was no surprise that you walked into his house smelling like chicken. Eric greeted you from the kitchen and you hollered out a “hey” before joining Changmin and Chanhee in the living room. They were in the middle of an intense round of Super Smash Bros and by the looks of it, Changmin was winning. When the game finally ended, Changmin shrieked with laughter while Chanhee dejectedly collapsed onto the sofa.

Jacob and Kevin walked in not long after, exchanging greetings with everyone else. Sangyeon, Juyeon, and Younghoon emerged from the staircase after finishing their assignments upstairs in their own respective rooms. With the whole group together, Eric gathered you all in front of the TV to have a Super Smash Bros tournament.

“Only people who suck at playing games pick Kirby,” he yelled as you picked up a controller.

“I do admit I suck at games and love Kirby,” you stuck your tongue out as you chose your character, making Chanhee groan.

“All you do is spam down b!” Kevin whined.

“Well no one wants to teach me other moves or how to play other characters,” you shrugged.

“I tried,” Hyunjae sighed. “You’re an impossible student.”

“That’s because everyone kills me off while I try to learn!” you huffed.

To your amusement, you won the game by avoiding everyone in the air while they battled amongst themselves. Then you constantly attacked Younghoon with the same move until he eventually died. He screamed in frustration when your victory flashed across the screen.

Unfortunately for you, everyone decided to target you in the beginning for the next round. After easily finishing you off, they enjoyed what they called a “true fight” that Eric ultimately won.

The long night officially began with the mountain of boxes of chicken in the kitchen. It was easily demolished before Changmin won rock, paper, scissors to put a horror movie on. Before the film was even chosen, Sunwoo was complaining about how he hated jump scares.

“Bro just say you’re afraid and move on,” Eric snickered.

“I’m not scared! I just don’t like being surprised,” Sunwoo insisted.

“Pft, if you’re a true man you can watch it,” Chanhee teased, unaware of his embarrassment to come.

The next couple of hours was chaotic. Chanhee screamed at every noise, making everyone else scream as well. Haknyeon and Sunwoo ended up watching the movie with their ears closed and Jacob gave up entirely by trying to nap instead. You had the unfortunate seat next to Younghoon and became his ragdoll that he clung onto and shook every time he got frightened. You didn’t even get to react to the movie because he kept screaming and grabbing onto you.

Eric and his mischievous instincts spent the whole time trying to startle Juyeon who ended up chasing him around until he promised to stop. Changmin, Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Kevin were the only ones who truly enjoyed the movie.

When the lights came back on, Chanhee and Sunwoo pretended that it wasn’t scary at all. Hyunjae laughed, reminding them of their reactions to which they feigned oblivion to.

“I need a drink,” you groaned. “Younghoon stressed me out more than the ghost did.”

“Everyone go slow and steady,” Eric warned. “I want to be playing until the sun comes up.”

“My body is too old for this,” Sangyeon mumbled as he began taking the alcohol out of the fridge.

“Hey, Y/n, can you pass me a bottle?” Sunwoo asked. You felt your heart skip a beat when his fingers brushed past yours to take the drink from your hands. The exchange made you blush and you quickly took a shot to mask your tinted cheeks with the flush of the liquor.

Spending the night with your friends meant that you would be spending it trying hard to not fall in love with your budding crush. You tried your best to keep a safe distance from him, relying on Chanhee to be your trusty barrier.

After a series of drinking games (that mostly resulted in your loss), you were beginning to feel the effects. With Chanhee and Haknyeon by your side, you were slightly swinging in your seat. You were all sitting on the floor in the spacious living room to start whatever game Hyunjae had suggested. His words had gone in and out of your ears while you were finishing your last punishment drink.

“So basically one person will ask another person a question and that person will say their answer out loud. The answer has to be the name of someone in this room. Those who are curious about the question will drink to hear it,” Hyunjae explained.

“Can I go first?” Kevin excitedly asked. With the majority agreeing, he happily went up to Jacob to whisper in his ear.

After hearing his question, Jacob thought for a second before saying your name. The boys teasingly “ooh”ed, making you roll your eyes. Sunwoo, Eric, and Changmin were the only ones curious enough to drink for the answer.

“Aw, Y/n, you don’t wanna know why he picked you?” Kevin pouted.

“By the look on your face, I think I get the gist,” you chuckled. “Any questions involving girls only leaves me as an option. And to be brutally honest, I don’t really care what he thinks of me.”

Jacob, faking pain, clutched his heart.

“Ouch,” he joked.

Jacob asked his question to Younghoon, who answered with your name again. This time, you were slightly intrigued.

“Me again for the second time in a row? Now I’m kinda curious,” you pretended to think hard.

Eric drank again and eagerly asked for Jacob’s question. Trying to elicit a response from you, he acted shocked and grabbed Younghoon by the collar. Laughing, you gave in and drank to hear the question.

“He thinks you’re gonna be the first to get cuffed,” Jacob whispered to you.

“Ah, unfortunately no,” you shook your head at Younghoon, sitting back down.

This time, Younghoon asked you a question. He asked who you would date if you had to choose from the friend group.

“Sunwoo,” you said almost immediately. His jaw dropped at how fast you made your decision and he gave you a smug look.

Again, Eric couldn’t hide his curiosity. His reaction made the rest of them interested and everyone ended up drinking to find out what Younghoon had asked you. Hyunjae hooted but the alcohol in your system left you unphased by all their teasing.

After their excitement died down, the game continued until each person had a turn. It ended with Eric drunk crying thanks to Juyeon picking him as his most cherished friend. Seeing him cry made Sunwoo cry as well and Changmin was having a blast laughing at them both.

Not wanting Sunwoo to also turn into a crying drunk, Sangyeon took his cup away from him. He reminded him to keep his pace, prompting him to sulk. As soon as Sangyeon looked away, however, Sunwoo stole it back and downed the rest of his drink.

“Sunwoo, no,” Sangyeon groaned.

“Sunwoo yes!” Sunwoo exclaimed with glee.

The group then split off into subgroups to take a break from drinking. You, Younghoon, Juyeon, Changmin, Sunwoo, and Eric propped a phone up to make TikToks together. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were just chilling on the couch, laughing as they watched you embarrass yourselves.

Subconsciously, you ended up with your arm wrapped around Sunwoo’s neck for most of the stupid 15 second video. You honestly weren’t sure what you were filming or why you were so close to your crush but you were having too much fun to care.

Chanhee, on the other hand, definitely noticed. He smirked as you rested your head on Sunwoo’s lap and Sunwoo’s face reddened. He nudged Jacob to point it out and made fun of how oblivious you two were.

Before reconvening, you stepped outside to get some fresh air. When you didn’t return after 10 minutes, Sunwoo was sent to retrieve you. You lit up seeing him join you on the veranda and beckoned for him to sit down next to you.

“It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go back in.”

“So then you should hold my hand to keep me warm,” you giggled, holding out your hand.

“You’re drunk,” he commented as he raised an eyebrow.

“Drunk on you,” you winked, making him shyly look away. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the awkward tension between you.

“You know, you’re a flirty drunk,” he mused.

“Only to you,” you shrugged. “Haven’t you ever heard of drunk actions reflecting sober thoughts?”

Taken aback, he stared at you in silence. You pouted at his lack of response and got up to go back inside. Before you could open the door, he finally spoke up.

“I’ll think about it if your sober actions reflect your drunk thoughts,” he said.

“Really?” you beamed.

“As long as your drunk self is only flirty with me,” he teased.

“Oh please, have you ever seen me like this with the other guys?” you laughed. “I only like you. Just you.”

[meenah-chan]

Safe Haven ~Epilogue~

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Trigger warning: None

Requested by: @romaissa Thank you for waiting for this. I apologize for the wait. This turns out the way as I imagined it to be, more or less. I felt so fluffy as I edited this for the last time. I hope you'll like this last part. Enjoy~~ 😚✨💖💖💖

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: angst

Trigger warning: None

It was the same cliff… trees and breeze... The same dusk… But the voice calling them were not anymore...

… sensitive yet capable... One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, the sky enveloping the Devildom is dark. Very unlike that place. A place where the sun would shine so brightly even from the back of their mind. Not the human world where they grew up. Not the Celestial realm they visited once. It was only the Devildom whose light came from the moon and not the sun. Should the moon doesn’t exist in this kingdom, it’ll surely be pitch black.

Yet, in the dimness of the kingdom they’ve suddenly been to... Who would have thought I would meet my sun in such a place? A smile formed on their face as they delved deeper in their thoughts.

As they did so, a strong wind blew past them. It was strong, they didn’t notice someone approaching them.

“Oh!” a pat on their shoulder snapped them back from their deep thoughts.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” They flit their head behind and meet with the same, familiar eyes.

“Lord Diavolo... Nothing. And Queen Rose? Did something happen?” Their surprised demeanor was replaced with a confused one. Why wouldn’t it? Since unless some responsibility on the Kingdom required to, the royal couple is technically attached at the hip. Which is still pretty rare.

“Stop with those formalities. You’re making me sad.” As if he were not such a tall, well-built demon, Diavolo looks at them like a weeping dog.

“Alright, I’m just teasing you... So, what happened?”

“Rose got angry over one of my posts on Devilgram.” His pout becomes more obvious as he complains to them like a child.

“Oh, that picture.” Diavolo didn’t have to elaborate further for them to guess which one it is. It was a picture of Diavolo pecking the Queen on her cheek on their bed chamber.

“Even if I were her, I would be mad. You’re the rulers of Devildom after all. You can’t afford showing any vulnerability to your people.”

“But love is our strength!” He emphasized the last word with his hand gesture and furrowed brows.

Which only received a giggle from the human. “You sound like those princesses in the movie we watched yesterday.”

“Hey, I’m being serious… Since when did you take her side anyway?”

“I’m just speaking with reason.”

“You’re so harsh these days. Where is the angel I knew? Barbatos is rubbing on you a bit too much.”

“I won’t be if you were a bit more reasonable. And remember, Simeon can be scary too sometimes.”

Diavolo paused for a moment to think. “Right.” And let out a sigh. “Why can't I win a debate with you? I'm the King, you know.”

“Then be glad I'm an ally.”

“But Y/N...” Diavolo stared at them for a moment. “I noticed you're becoming more beautiful. More than ever.”

“...Where’s Queen Rose? She needs to know the king’s flirting with his ex—”

“Hey, I don't mean it! I mean, not that way! You're beautiful as a friend.”

“Beautiful more than ever as a friend, yes?”

“I mean it with pure intention! And Rose is the most beautiful! You know that!”

“Most beautiful. Favorite line, huh…” They sassily fiddled with their nails as they stared at it.

“Let's settle this here? I-I'll even grant you a wish.”

They glanced at him from their nails and stared at him. “Pfft— Hahaha!! I'm kidding, I’m kidding, pfft— hahaha! You should have seen your face, hahaha!”

“Are you messing with me again?” He frowned at them.

“I was but, hey. A wish from the King is rather enticing.”

Looking straight in their eyes, “Are you still mad because of our past?” he asked. As if he's been holding this question back for so long. In guilt of what they have been through because of him.

And with a smile, they replied “No.”

It was the truth.

They could never hold anything against Diavolo. They can never hate the man they fell in love with…

“Your face is just so hilarious I can't help it.” Rather, they wanted to see that expression one last time. That expression I adored way too much, as I fell beside the cliff.

“Since when did you become so fickle?” Yet despite his words, a sense of relief emanates from the Royal Demon.

He is now certain. He is finally free from the shackles he created himself. And they...

“Spare Barbatos some slack. Some regular day offs will do too and you’ll be absolved of your offense.” Without Diavolo being able to snap a last glance on their face, they turned their back to him and started walking. Despite it, a smile formed on his face.

“Consider it done...” He said as they wave as a response before disappearing from his sight.

I see you’re finally free from my curse... Diavolo chuckled as he left to return to his queen, ready to ask for another forgiveness.

---------

“Y/N.” It was the same cliff. The same trees and breeze. The same dusk who witnessed everything. But the voice calling them were not the prince’s anymore.

“Barbatos, you’re early.”

“I apologize for always making you wait for me but,” worry was showing on his face as he looked at them. “...do you always wait here this early?”

“Don’t mind it. I love waiting for you.” Barbatos’ heart skipped a beat from their words, a tint of pink forming on both person’s ear tips.

“A-Ah, right. You didn’t tell me you'll plant some flowers here.” They touched the petals of the Forget-me-not flowers as if to avert the butler’s attention.

It was as healthy as the one they took care of or perhaps even healthier.

“Were they not to your liking?”

“No, I… love them.”

“Then I'd be glad if that were the case. I raised them with the thoughts of you after all.” Even though Barbatos’ remarks were always like that, they couldn’t help but feel bashful everytime.

“Seriously, how can you say some cheesy lines so smoothly?”

“Hmm? I don’t recall saying such things.” He lifted a knuckle under his chin while glancing upward as if in thoughts.

“This guy..!” All they could do is shut up and frown. They couldn’t remember a time where they actually won on Barbatos’ wordplays.

“Is there something that displeases my flower?” Barbatos moved towards them when the frown they wore turned into a sad smile when they glanced again at the blue flowers.

“Well...” they sighed, Barbatos now stepping in to caress their face. “I just remembered the poor flowers I destroyed that day. I cared for them for a long time only to die from my own hands.”

Barbatos brushed his thumb to their cheek, fondness reflected in his eyes. “But they didn’t.” It was still like a dream for him to be able to hold them freely as he wished.

“What do you mean? Of course they will. I pulled them all off the ground myself.”

“Would you believe me if I said this plant was your flower’s seedlings and roots?”

“Y-You mean..!?” The human’s eyes snapped back to the Forget-me-nots. That’s probably why the flowers have the exact same shade and size as back then.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.” He let them go to squat and check the flowers closely.

It took a while as they observed and admired the lush flowers. It was a comfortable silence, as Barbatos watched his favorite bud.

“Hey Barbatos.” Finally satisfied from staring at it, they rose on their feet. “I had some silly idle thoughts a while ago.”

“What is it?” He asked. But unlike them, the demon butler’s eyes never left his favorite flower. He could spend another millenia just gazing at them, and still say it’s the best sight he's ever seen.

“Devildom is a dark place no matter how I try to think of it.” He watch their back across the nightfall. The way the cold breeze brush through their locks. Those subtle shivers they give off as chills bites at their sensitive yet capable arms. One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

“Then how come of all places, I’ll meet my sun there?” He tread beside them, not minding their words.

Not even the fondness in Barbatos’ eyes yields. Not in the slightest.

He knew. It was Diavolo. It will always be his Young Master. “He was so bright. So dazzling yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Diavolo will always be my sun.” And he… He already accepted this fact a long time ago. Staying by their side, until they found their happiness, is more than enough for him.

So instead of reacting, he removed his coat and placed it over their shoulder.

“I won’t forget. I will cherish the memories he left, no matter how painful it is. After all, he and the memories,” but they were thinking differently from Barbatos. They spun on their feet, suddenly facing him, who was just a few inches away from them, “...they all led me to my moon.” Their eyes were glistening, with him reflected in it. It took his breath– his words away.

“Shining through my darkest nights. Cradling me with its gentle light. Brushing off the tears from my eyes. My precious moon, who helped me remember that there’s still happiness beyond my sorrow.” They reached for his face. “Nights were supposed to be cold, yet he brings warmth instead. And you know what’s the most amusing thing?”

“In Devildom, whether it is day or night, you can see the moon in its brightest.” He never wants to assume anything, yet the way their thumb runs across his cheek so tenderly… The hope he hid with all his might, surges out wanting to be freed.

“Oh, but there is just one problem with my moon. He was so selfless, he wouldn't take me to himself.” The hand next to his cheek moved and brushed to the tip of his nose.

“Pardon?” He thought he finally sealed it away so perfectly, so why… With just a single touch…?

“I don’t wanna be single forever yet he keeps on ignoring my signs...”

“Wait, you mean…” But his promise… his vow to them...

“I still can’t say I don’t have any more feelings with Diavolo but I swear, I mean it. That’s why I’m already taking this to my hands… Hey–!” The knot within Barbatos’ heart came undone, along with the stream of tears he’s holding back due to their dreamlike words.

“Barbatos. Hey, don’t cry.”

They tried scooping his face with both hands only to stop by his own.“I’m so happy.” He placed one of their hands on his chest. It was warm, with his heart practically drumming crazily fast.

He never knew it’s possible to feel happier than the day they allowed him by their side. Incomparably so. It was at that moment he felt so… alive.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.”

“This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my life.” He pulled their other hand and placed a tender kiss on its palm.

“I wonder if I can surpass this next time.”

“Then how about a kiss? Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” They took another step towards him, “I love you, my Luna.”

“I love you more, my Flora.” Barbatos sewed the space between them and soon, two breaths became one. All the words dissolved between their lips. Yet, all the emotions bottled up within poured out.

Of loneliness. Of longing. Of elation. Of attachment and inclination. With a spice of passion and devotion. All swirling together, filling the gaps in their hearts.

They parted just to converge again, like how their threads of fate crossed, unraveled and intertwined together.

The coldness of the night now utterly nonexistent within their moment, as they were embraced by the vivid rays of moonlight.

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 19.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 2400+

Chapter Nineteen:

“Peace offering delivery,” Y/N said as Steve opened the door for her.

“About time,” Steve laughed, taking the boxes out of her hand and leaning down to give her a kiss on the head before moving to the kitchen. “Where’s Beck? I thought you guys were coming together?”

“She said something about a meeting with a professor and going to the grocery store before dropping by. She should be here in probably less than half an hour or so,” Y/N shrugged, kicking off her shoes at the door and looking at the couch where Bucky was staring at her. “Hey, B.” she said sweetly. 

His nerves lightened at her acting normal as if he hadn’t confessed his love for her earlier. 

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he replied with a smile as she walked over to him. She stopped at the back of the couch and put her hands on his shoulders giving him a squeeze. “How was your day?”

“Eh, same old same old. Still waiting for those Roman documents to be transferred from another museum before I can really dive into my project, but besides that, good,” she smiled, leaning down and placing a kiss to his cheek before moving to the kitchen. 

“Ugh, I know I’m going to have to get used to that, but maybe give me a second to wrap my head around you two being together before doing any PDA,” Steve shivered as he pulled plates out from the cabinet where he could still see them in the living room. 

Bucky and Y/N laughing as they made their way to the food. 

“Get over yourself,” Y/N said, hip bumping her brother away from the pizza so she could dive in first. “Where’s Sam? You told him about movie night, right?”

“Movie night?” Bucky asked, tucking his hands in his pockets behind Y/N. 

“Yeah, did Steve not tell you?” she asked, making a plate for herself. 

“Can’t say I’m in the loop,” Bucky laughed. 

“In honor of all being best buds again, we’re celebrating with a movie night,” Y/N explained, with a wink to Bucky before moving around the kitchen like it was her own. 

“Just like the good ol’ days,” Steve nodded, making a plate for himself too. “Sam! War’s over!” he shouted down the hall where Sam almost instantly came out of his room. 

“I thought I smelled peace and pizza,” Sam smiled as he practically skipped in. 

Steve noticed Bucky slightly zoned out and realized him and Y/N probably needed to talk and catch up on everything. Of course, he didn’t realize the real reason why Bucky was zoned out. 

“Hey Sam,” Steve nodded once the two had their own plates. “Come help me pick out a movie for tonight while we wait for Becca.”

“What genre are we going for?” Sam asked with a bite of the new york pie in his mouth already. 

“Ooo!” Y/N started.

“No, no murder mystery,” Steve pointed. 

“But, last night we-”

“No,” Steve shook his head. 

“I like murder mystery-” Sam started.

“Don’t encourage her obsession,” Steve warned, pushing Sam out of the room. 

“Jackass,” Y/N scoffed, taking a bite of pizza as they left. Bucky laughed coming up to her and placing a kiss to her forehead. “Hey,” she smiled. 

“Hey,” he smiled back. 

“I’m guessing things went well considering his mood. He seems back to normal,” she gleamed. 

“Really well. We both came to the conclusion we were idiots,” Bucky nodded. She laughed at him before there was a slight silence. “Listen, about earlier today on the phone,” he began. His cheek bones almost instantly turned a shade darker. “I didn’t plan to make things awkward. What I said just kinda slipped out,” he noted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. 

Having not been looking at her, he was shocked to feel her hands wrap around his neck and bring his eye down to hers. 

“You didn’t make things awkward,” she smiled. 

“We’ve been dating two months Y/N. I didn’t want to scare you away…” he noted not breaking eye contact. “So don’t feel obligated to say it if you don’t feel that because-,” He was on the verge of rambling. 

Placing a finger over his lips, she cut him off. 

“You aren’t scaring me away, B,” she said with a soft smile. 

“I’m not?” he questioned with her finger still on his lips. 

She laughed before moving her hands to his shoulders. 

“Yes, we’ve been dating two months, but we’ve known each other for what? 23 years?” she tilted her head. He moved in grabbing her hips ever so gently. “I think it’s easier to figure out your feelings for someone in this kind of situation when you’ve known them your whole life,” she shrugged. 

“I wanted to make it special,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead down to hers. No longer nervous, but more so embarrassed. 

“Saying it in itself is special, Buck. You don’t need some monumental moment like the movies tricked us into thinking we do,” she giggled. The sound made a wide smile form on his face. “And in saying that,” she smiled, pulling back to see his face fully. Her eyes switching back and forth between his blue ones. “The feeling is very much mutual.”

His face went blank for a second. Wait, did she just say she loved him back? In a different way, but she said it, right?

“Wait, you-?” he started, but when he didn’t finish his sentence, Y/N laughed. 

“Yes, B. I love you as well,” she smiled widely. His grin copying hers almost instantly. “Call me crazy, but-”

“Hey, if you’re crazy, then I’m just as crazy,” he stopped her before leaning down for a kiss. 

They smiled into the kiss after the confession of love. Sure it wasn’t the textbook written way of saying those three little words. But who cared? The meaning behind it was all that mattered in those kinds of moments. And if they meant it, which they both very much did, that’s all it took to make them both feel like they were walking on cloud nine. 

“Ok, I’m all for you guys being together, but it’s going to take me a second with the PDA,” Becca’s voice sounded from behind them shocking them both. 

Bucky pulled back looking at his sister who had scrunched up her face as she put her purse on the kitchen island. Y/N immediately burrowing into his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped her into him with a laugh. 

“Are you guys making out in my kitchen?” Steve sounded from the other room. “Come on guys! I just figured all this out the other day. I’m still adjusting!”

“Adjust faster then!” Y/N shouted to her brother. 

“Yeah, and you and Steve can get over yourselves,” Bucky said to his sister.

“Beck, I think we’re going to get ganged up on a lot more,” Steve retorted from the other room. 

“I think you’re right, Stevie,” Beck shook her head with a laugh. “When you guys are done making out, care to join us for the movie night we had planned?” she asked as she made a plate for herself. 

“Get out of here!” Bucky chided, throwing a towel from the counter at her. 

“Sheesh, I’m going. I’m going,” she huffed, grabbing her things quicker as she went back to the living room.

“This is going to be an interesting time,” Y/N laughed. 

“I’d have to agree with that,” Bucky shook his head with a deep breath. Looking down at her one more time, he bent down for another quick kiss. “What are the odds Steve picked an old 60’s spy film?” 

“High. I’d say the odds are high,” she nodded. 

“God help us all.”

_________________

The entire crew had a good night hanging out all together. Sam and Y/N had hit it off and had started to become good friends even though this was only really their 2nd or 3rd time hanging out. 

They bantered and also obsessed over murder mysteries and surprisingly, Sam was very much into greek gods as well. He didn’t know much about other cultures' Gods, but one group was all it took for Y/N and him to go on and on about the topic. 

Bucky having rolled his eyes on multiple occasions when he and Sam would go back sassing the other, and Y/N now started defending Sam really only as a way to tease Bucky. God, the two together were going to be a handful for him. 

Steve and Bucky were practically back to normal though the rest of the evening. It was a little weird seeing his best friend and his little sister cuddled into each other on the loveseat by themselves, but he reminded himself they were happy. He was going to have to get over the weirdness. Though, it was fun for him and Beck to tease them on it and make them blush or retort something sarcastic back to them. 

In the end, the night was a night to remember. It was rounding about midnight now and Becca had just left. Sam was headed off to bed saying his goodnights and getting a quick late-night snack before disappearing into his room. Leaving Steve, Bucky, and Y/N in the living room with Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing in the background. 

“Ok, I think I’m going to call it a night for myself. I’ll probably go in my actual hours tomorrow,” Steve yawned standing and stretching. “What about you? See you tomorrow like usual?”

“Don’t know yet. Fury said I can come in later tomorrow since things are slow in my department. I’ll probably just go in for a few hours honestly,” Bucky shrugged softly. Y/N had fallen asleep on his chest and was completely knocked out.

Steve looked down at his sleeping sister and laughed softly. “You got her?”

Bucky looked down, seeing that she had her hand covering where his heart was and was completely nuzzled into him in comfort. 

“Always,” he chuckled lightly, not to wake her up. “She said she was going to spend the night. You ok with that?”

It was weird. Steve had to admit it. But he trusted Bucky. He said it earlier, if there was anyone on this planet that would treat his sister right and protect her, it was Buck. 

“Yeah, man. I mean it’ll be weird to me for a while, I’m not going to lie, but it’s not my decision to make. Just, just don’t let me hear anything,” he said with a cringe. 

“Steve, I’ve already told you, we haven’t done anything like that. It’s only been two months man,” he shook his head. 

“I know. I know, it’s just. You know what? Talking about it just makes it weird. I’m going to bed,” Steve waved off. “You guys do whatever you do, just don’t tell me.”

Bucky laughed at his innocent friend who was trying his best to be accepting and not be an overbearing brother at the end of the day. No matter how bad he wanted to. 

“Go to bed, punk. I’ll take care of her,” Bucky laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Good night,” Steve walked out. 

Once Steve was down the hall and Bucky heard his door shut, he looked back down at Y/N. Yup, sound asleep. 

He didn’t want to wake her, but there was no way he was going to be able to sleep in the position he was in for a whole night, and eventually she would wake up with a crick in her neck too if they stayed like that too long. 

Gently, he ran his hand up and down her arm to slowly wake her. 

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up,” he said softly, laying his cheek on her head. 

“Hmmm,” she hummed nuzzling into him more. 

“We can go to bed, but I promise you won’t want to sleep here at the end of the night,” he chuckled at her protest. 

“I’m comfy,” she mumbled barely audibly.

“I bet, but I can promise, my bed’s a lot more comfy,” he hummed kissing the top of her head. 

“Fine, but will you carry me?” she asked, throwing her arms over his shoulder. 

He chuckled again before adjusting his arms in the best way to lift her. “Of course, doll.” As if she was a feather, he maneuvered her off the couch with him and walked her to his room. 

He placed her on one side of the bed, walked over and turned on his lamp before going back, and pulling the blankets over her. Instantly, she cuddled into his pillows and bedside. Luckily she was already in shorts and a t-shirt when she came over, so she didn’t really need to change, but he went and grabbed her overnight bag at the front door anyway. 

“Want to change, or-” he asked, placing it on her side of the bed. 

“No, ‘m ok,” she mumbled, pulling the covers up more to her chin. 

“Ok, baby. I’m going to go to the bathroom and I’ll be right back,” he smiled, kissing her forehead before walking off. 

When he got back, she was sound asleep again but now facing his side of the bed. And as soon as he was changed and maneuvered under the covers, it’s like her body sensed him and she shimmied over to him before he could move to her himself. 

Immediately going back to the position she had been in while on the couch. Her arm thrown over his torso and her head resting in the nook of his side and arm. Perfectly and comfortably puzzle pieced into his side. 

“Goodnight, Y/N/N. Sweet dreams,” he grinned, happy that they no longer had to hide anything and it was all free of worry from here on out. “I love you.”

(Tags for this series is closed. If you would like updates, please turn on my notification:)

The Number One Rule (TNOR) Taglist:

@shadowolf993 @semistablecentenarian @hello-i-am-daydreaming @jessyballet  @emmabarnes @kmuir1  @beautifulrare4leafclover @thefallenbibliophilequote @l0ve-0f-my-life  @shawnie--jo  @asoftie4bucky @katiaw2 @sheeple @sznri @bxtchboy69 @taliarosej00 @bakugouswh0r3 @stopjustlovethemcu @babemendesxz @jenniereiji @taliarosej00 @loveyou5everr @natdrunk @im-a-light-child @stucky-my-ship @fairykimseok @alexfms97​ @awkwardnesshabitat​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @carls1022​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​

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@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​

@bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​  @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​ @shower-me-with-roses​

[mechanicalriddle]

[slides u a $20] for gas but also for writing ask game. 2, 10, 16, 22?

oh woah thanks, that's a half gallon less of gas that i gotta pay for ;P

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

SSEL Chapter 3 needs finished and I've been having a ton of fun with writing that one !!! (also have to fix/rewrite a bunch of crap in chapters 1 and 2 😪 but hey theyre written at least!!)

I have a couple of tabletop guy fics on the docket as well. one of these is about reading fucked up books in a library in a cursed city trapped under the ocean. the other one is about smoking weed with your buds at sorcery school

10. How would you describe your writing process?

"Organic", I guess. I deluded myself into thinking I was an 'architect-archetype' writer and then I grew up and realized that was a false dichotomy and also if I didnt just start writing i would never make anything. So now I write, plan, write some more, plan some more. I seem to have gotten into a pattern of going on 10-15k writing benders for a few weekends and then returning to dormancy for a couple of months. This is possibly the best way for me to take advantage of brief periods of hyperfixation and also avoid writing burnout

16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

Uhh, I would say getting back into it was the new thing I tried lately?? i guess ive only been a writer again for like 6 months (other than, admittedly, a fuuuuuckton of text-only tabletop). i hadnt really done much since early college. but now i do and thats very sexy of me

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

I mean I reread some of my old text rp stuff sometimes... theyre fine. it aint bad!

[insaneasgardian]

Haircut Of Love - Sambucky

Summary: Confessions are made, and lives are changed the day Sam gives Bucky a haircut.

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: Bucky being slightly sad while thinking of Steve, Bucky thinking that his feelings for Sam are unrequited (they're not), Idiots in love.

A/N: I have actually worked on this for longer than I should've XD A big thank you to @cassiecasyl and @aixabi for being such great friends and helping me out by proofreading, and making suggestions!

He knew he should've stopped Bucky tagging along, but the moment that infamous, "I'm coming with you!" so eagerly left the super soldier's lips, Sam knew it was pointless to persuade him to stay behind.

Not that he really minded, the mission he'd been assigned with was a tough one, and it would've been lonely if Bucky hadn't been so adamant about accompanying him.

Sam stared into the fireplace and focused on the embers as he let his thoughts wander. There were some terrible people to be stuck with in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, but Bucky certainly wasn't one of them. He was an interesting character for sure, and Sam was sure he still didn't know a whole lot about him, but their relationship had developed all the way from 'a couple of guys' to 'almost best friends'.

"Hey", came the voice of the man Sam had so deeply been thinking of. He turned around with that signature smirk he reserved especially for Bucky, and watched with delight as the White Wolf turned a light pink color, and it wasn't because of the cold.

"I thought you might want to catch a shower, the water's nice and warm" the brunette said, and Sam nodded as he noticed his friend's damp hair from his own shower.

"Man, you need a haircut" Sam remarked, and much to his pleasure elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

"Do I?"

"It has gotten kind of longer..."

"Well, it's not easy to find a hairdresser in the forest"

"I could cut it for you"

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, and he didn't miss the way Bucky's widened ever so slightly. Sam internally scolded himself, feeling that he'd made things awkward somehow.

There was a slight pause in the atmosphere, but the ex Winter-Soldier eventually smiled. It was a weak smile, but genuine nonetheless.

"I'd like that," he told his friend, "would you mind?".

Sam shook his head, a bit too enthusiastically, and that made Bucky raise his eyebrows

“I can do it now if you want, so I don’t get your greasy ass hair all over me after I’ve gotten out of the shower”, Sam casually slipped in to look less ecstatic than he really was.

Bucky scoffed and crossed his arms at the statement, but his grin only grew wider.

“So… are you gonna give me something to cut your hair with?” his friend asked him, making a scissor snipping motion with his fingers.

The brunette’s lips tugged downwards into a frown and bit his lip as he often did when pondering. Sam couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the bottom lip in between those pearly white teeth, but he forced himself to snap out of it.

After a brief moment, Bucky snapped the fingers on his vibranium arm and turned to walk towards the room he was staying in. “Wait there!”, he had instructed Sam, who had no intention of getting up from the comfortable position he was in anyway.

Promptly, Bucky had returned, clutching a pair of scissors that Sam immediately identified as a pair of Captain America themed kiddie scissors he had recently bought for his nephew, AJ. He burst out cackling.

“What’s so funny Samuel?” the White Wolf pouted, plopping next to his friend who was dying of laughter.

“You stole that from AJ didn’t you?” Sam pried, inwardly dancing at the thought that his secret crush would want something with his face on it.

“Psh, no… I permanently borrowed it, that’s all”, Bucky insisted, moving from the couch to sit on the floor in front of Sam’s legs so that the other man would be able to cut his hair with more ease.

“Mhm”, Sam hummed, already weaving a piece of Bucky’s hair between his fingers, and snipping it off, just like that. It seemed easy enough, so he kept on going, chopping bits of hair here and there, trimming the areas which really needed it, and taking care not to overdo the cut and end up making Bucky look bald in certain places. He was doing quite well considering that he was equipped with nothing but a pair of small, blunt kiddie scissors, which Sam was certain professional hairdressers did not use

A lovely period of pure silence fell in between the two men. The only sounds were the scissors delicately doing their job of cutting the brown locks, accompanied by the gentle crackle of the fireplace, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

“Steve used to cut my hair, you know… Used to do it all the time in the 40’s” Bucky said, breaking the silence. Sam froze in his movements, but only for a second. It was rare for this man, who had been through so much to talk about his past like this.

“We’d sit outside on the street in the summer, he’d be on a chair with his scissors and I’d sit down in front of him, punk gave a damn good haircut to be honest”, he continued, and Sam chuckled.

“People would give us dirty looks as they walked by, it wasn’t uncommon for people to think Steve and I were a couple, but it was frowned upon to be in a same-sex relationship back then… sometimes still is of course”, his tone was now sad, as if he wanted to admit something, but was refraining from doing so. Sam stopped what he was doing, and set down the scissors, obviously sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Still, Steve and I were just friends, that’s all he’d ever wanted to be anyway”, Bucky finally finished.

Sam got off the couch, and slipped down onto the floor next to the 107 year old. “And what about you? Did you ever want to be more than friends?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, which donned a neutral expression, “It’s complicated Sam… I’d be into a girl one second and thinking about Steve the next”.

Sam gently nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his own, and gave him a small smile, “Bisexual then?”, he questioned.

The other man nodded, and looked at Sam with a grin now gracing his features, “Yea, but you know what? I forgot all about Steve…” he paused to dart his tongue out his mouth and wet his lips, “The day I met another guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about”.

Sam’s world shattered the moment those words left Bucky’s lips. The thought that the man he had pined after for so long was yearning for another made him want to burst into tears right there. However, Sam Wilson was not the kind of man to be salty over the choices of others. So he kept on the smile he had been wearing the entire time his heart broke over and over again. Yet, he had been so absorbed in his own mind that he failed to notice the longing glances Bucky was shooting at him, the ones he had been giving Sam ever since he first met him.

“Happy you could get that sorted out for you man!” He said brightly, patting Bucky’s back and climbing back onto the couch to resume the haircut.

The ex winter soldier was dumbfounded. Had Sam not noticed how he felt? What if he had? What if he didn’t appreciate the advances?

There was stillness once more, but this time it was incredibly awkward. The two sat absorbed in the silence, no longer so focused on their own thoughts, but on every movement and action the other did.

“All done,” Sam finally said, and gestured towards the large wall mirror in the living room. Bucky looked into it, and nodded.

“You’ve done a nice job, thanks”, he mumbled.

“No problem” Sam told him, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to go take a shower now”, and with that, he rose and climbed the stairs to get to the bathroom. The footsteps faded away and when Bucky heard the bathroom lock click shut, he leaned his back against the couch with a sigh. He ran a tired hand over his face.

What had he done wrong? He’d watched all the movies, read all the books and listened to all the music Sam had suggested. He’d come to see Sam’s family as his own, he cherished Sarah, AJ and Cas with all his heart.

Hell, he’d even taken dating advice from Zemo…. Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong.

Bucky wasn’t sure. He may have lost the charm he had back in the 40’s, but Sam had always accepted him for who he was. He never questioned Bucky’s past, or forced him to be more social and open. That’s the reason Bucky developed more than platonic feelings towards him. He was so easy to be around.

However, the white wolf figured that if Sam didn’t want anything to do with him romantically, the least he could do was to maintain the relationship status they had now. Not to mention, he had the perfect way to do that.

Mac and cheese. Sam’s favorite food.

A grin grew on his face as he scrambled to the kitchen. It was a tasty and easy thing to cook and would be done before Sam even got out of the shower. Bucky proceeded to locate all the necessary ingredients they had brought to the cabin, and got straight to work.

It wasn’t a difficult job at all. With his swift speed, and his mind set only on the task before him, he was done within minutes. He even managed to get two servings plated beautifully, and just in time too, because as he finished setting the table, Sam descended the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. A smile was drawn on his face at the smell of the meal, and all the previous tension seemed to have dissipated.

“Smells good in here!” he exclaimed, his eyes then landed on the beautifully presented plates of mac and cheese. He gasped and clapped his hands like an excited child, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He thought it was adorable.

“Alright, alright, take a seat Sammy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the bar stools next to the kitchen island which the food rested on.

Both of them rushed to sit down and dig into their dinner. Bucky watched his friends expression as he took the first bite of his food.

Sam’s eyes closed in pure bliss, as his taste buds thanked him. “Buck, this is heaven in my mouth, tastes even better than what Sarah makes”.

Bucky blushed, but quickly tried to hide it with a chuckle, “Sarah’s my teacher, I owe it to her”.

Sam nodded at the statement, but commented no more on the topic. Instead, he took another bite and made eye contact with Bucky. “So… who’s this guy you’ve been crushing on?” he inquired.

Bucky was taken aback by the question, he blinked rapidly, “huh?” he mumbled, earning an eye roll from Sam.

“Listen man, I’ve never pressured you to tell me anything before, but we can’t pretend like that conversation didn’t happen” Sam said gently, setting his cutlery down, and reaching a hand over to place it on Bucky’s vibranium one.

The brunette gulped, closed his eyes, and took two deep breaths. He’d have to get it out. Or else it would slowly kill him to watch Sam find someone else. Even if his feelings were unrequited, the man had a right to know.

“It’s you” he said quietly before he could chicken out.

Sam slowly blinked, and shook his head, “Sorry, repeat that?”.

Bucky groaned and looked up from his plate which he’d been staring at the entire time. He gazed into Sam’s doe brown eyes with his own piercing blue ones, “It’s you! You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on!” he agitatedly replied.

Once more, there was that silence that seemed to be consuming the two of them so much lately. Bucky wanted to cry, to hide the humiliation. He was certain that Sam’s lack of words meant he didn’t feel the same, because Sam always had something to say.

“Forget it,” Bucky choked out, getting up from his seat, but Sam’s hand tightened its grip on his wrist, stopping him from getting away. The super soldier turned around slowly, trying not to make eye contact with Sam so that he wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Then, all of a sudden, Sam rose from his seat and his lips met Bucky’s in what was a tender, loving kiss which shocked the latter, but he readily returned it. They stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as their arms snaked their way around each other's torsos. It was a moment neither of them wanted to break, but were forced to. Eventually, when they pulled apart gasping for air, they looked at each other in surprise, but merriment. Wide beams adorned both of their gorgeous faces, and their eyes glinted with excitement.

“So…” Bucky began, “you were desperate to get a piece of me, why, is it the new hair?” he said teasingly.

“The next time I give you a haircut, it’s gonna be turned into a mullet”, Sam threatened, making the other man raise his hands in surrender.

The mac and cheese was long forgotten as they clutched each other once again. Their hearts were bubbling and overflowing with love for one another, and it was not a love that was going to fizzle and die out. They fit perfectly in each other’s arms, like it’s where they belonged.

Two men, who had their own individual problems denying them a place to be truly content in the world, had finally found their refuge in each other.

Finit

[tinkerbellwoo]

Broken Wings - J. Wooyoung

Synopsis - You take a nasty tumble after going flower picking in a meadow far from home, that's when you meet a sweet fairy boy, Wooyoung.

Genre - Fluff

AU - Fairy AU

Pairing - Fairy!Wooyoung x Fairy!Reader (F)

Warnings - Swearing and mentions of cuts/bruises

Word Count - 1,400+ oopsies

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Minutes ago, all was well. You were gliding through the sky, weaving between trees as you clutched a collection of freshly picked flower buds to bring back to your den. Until one of your flowers fell from your grip, causing you to lose concentration and accidentally flying directly into a branch. 

You fell through many sticks and leaves as you failed to regain control, hitting your head against the rough bark on a tree before landing roughly on a large leaf where you lay motionless for a little while.

You’ve now managed to regain consciousness, sitting upright as you attempt to adjust to the situation, your head remains fuzzy but you seem to remember where things went wrong and how you ended up here. Examining your surroundings, you catch sight of your flowers, scattered beneath you and beaten by the tumble you took moments ago.

“Ah shit, my flowers...” You groan to yourself. Your knees and elbows sting due to the scrapes littering your skin. Fluttering your wings in an attempt to stand, you feel a sharp pain shoot through them to your spine, causing you to fall onto your hands and knees. “Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding” You hiss through your teeth at the pain.

Tears begin to stream down your face, partially because of the pain but also because you were so excited to go flower picking today and now your once-delightful outing just feels pointless. “What am I supposed to do now? I can't fly-”

Suddenly, you hear the light fluttering of wings. You look around in confusion, knowing full well it couldn't be your own pair due to the damage they received just moments ago. The surface of the leaf dips slightly as you look behind you. 

At first you’re fearful, what if you fell onto another colonies territory and they're angry? What if it’s a large bird coming to eat you? But all of your worries subside when you’re met with the sweet smile of the boy standing behind you. His wings are a shimmering gold, glowing against his pretty, tanned skin. His black hair frames his face beautifully as the blonde underneath creates an admirable contrast.

“Looks like you took quite the tumble there” He giggles “Are you okay?” He asks. You can't respond, you're far too focused on how attractive this stranger is. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Wooyoung” He smiles, holding out a hand to help you up from the floor. You gladly accept his offer and dust the dirt from your legs as you find your feet.

“Hi uh- I’m Y/N and... I think I’m fine” You reply, slightly embarrassed that this gorgeous stranger has just witnessed you take the tumble of your life. “How embarrassing...” You whisper to yourself as a harsh blush spreads across your cheeks.

He giggles at your adorable state but your face burns more due to the feeling of his gaze on you. “Hey, it happens to the best of us” He comforts you with a hand on your shoulder. “Are you hurt? Your wings are damaged and it looks like you've got a few nasty cuts” He says, concern laced in his voice. 

“It hurts when I try to fly, the scratches don't bother me but I’m so far from home I just don't know what I’m going to do if I can't use my wings” You respond, gazing down at the floor in disappointment as you pull small twigs from your hair.

Wooyoung watches your sad expression, feeling unbearably sorry for you. He’s not one to take much notice of strangers but, when he saw you in the meadow his heart skipped a beat, his glittery aura flickered pink and his pointy ears twitched. He knew he may never see you again so he secretly followed you to find out where you came from. Right now he's doing his best to act like finding you was an accident.

“I don't live too far from here. If you come back to my den, I can give you some bluebell syrup. You’ll be healed by tomorrow and you can be on your way!” He says, hopeful that you'll accept his offer. “Sure, what other choice do I have right now” You laugh shyly. 

“Great! I-I’m going to have to carry you though... for obvious reasons” He blushes lightly. You giggle at the sweetness radiating from him, noticing the pink tint to his wings and the tips of his ears. A wave of confidence pushes you to wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you against him in preparation to take flight.

--------- Time Skip --------- 

“Feeling any better?” Woo asks as he disposes of the wet towels he used to clean your scuffs and scratches. “Mhm, thank you again for this. I really didn't know what I was going to do” You reply after sipping the last of the bluebell syrup he had prepared for you. “Of course!” He smiles.

“So I wanted to ask you something-” He begins with a serious tone before getting cut off by the door swinging open and rebounding off the wall. “YO BRO GUESS WHAT I JUST- woah who? what? when? how?” The boy practically yells followed by a string of questions upon noticing you.

Wooyoung pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs heavily in disappointment. “You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend- OW!” The guy chuckles, slapping Wooyoung’s shoulders but yelping when he receives a tug to his wings as a sign to stop his teasing.

“Y/N this is San, my best friend. San this is Y/N, she's not my girlfriend. She's hurt so I’m helping her” Wooyoung introduces you both. His aura flickers pink again, causing you to avert your gaze out of shyness. “Ohhhh I see! Wooyoungie has a crush!” San cheers before being chased out of the den by an embarrassed and slightly angry Wooyoung.

“I’m sorry about him. You should get some rest if you want to be able to fly well tomorrow. Is there anything you need?” Wooyoung asks softly. “No I should be fine, thanks. Where should I sleep?” You reply. “Sleep in my bed and I’ll stay on the couch, comfort is the key to recovery!” He smiles. 

“Goodnight, Wooyoung” You call out. “Goodnight!” He replies from the next room. You pull the wool blanket to your chin, blushing profusely as you recap the events with Wooyoung today. Your pointy ears twitch as your wings turn pink before you drift off with a smile.

Waking up to the smell of freshly baked goodies, you climb out of bed and walk to the kitchen to find chocolate chip cookies and an elderflower drink to compliment the treats. “He’s so sweet” You whisper to yourself with a smile. He left a note next to the meal which reads: “Y/N, I hope you slept well and are feeling healthy! I’ve had to run some errands but will be back before noon. Please hang around until I return! - Woo :)”

You polish off the plate and wash up the dishes as you wait for him to get back, it’s the least you can do for him after his kind gestures. 11am rolls around and the gorgeous boy walks through the door with his hands behind his back. “Hi Woo, where did you go?” You ask, curiosity overcoming you due to his actions. 

He approaches you as the pink tint decorates his wings and his cheeks once again. “These are for you” He says as he holds out an array of colourful flowers and some buds of the flowers you had dropped during your fall. 

“I felt bad seeing how upset you were when you dropped your flowers yesterday so, have these! Also, I wanted to ask you yesterday but for obvious and unfortunate reasons, I didn't get the chance-” He says causing you both to giggle. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on a date with me-” He starts before being cut off by you wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you!” You accept with a smile. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. Both of your wings flutter as you embrace each other, a light dusting of glitter falling from you both as you swear you hear the light sound of bells ringing in your ears.

You knew from the moment you met him, he’d be the one for you.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A/N - Okay sooo, this is way longer than I wanted it to be but its cute so we’re gonna stick with it and pretend like it ain’t as long as it is okay? okay! Lol I had fun writing this, I felt really creative and I definitely want to write different AU’s in the future. Thanks for reading :3 💙

Tag List - @simphwa @yunhoiseyecandy @jonghoisababie @multidreams-and-desires

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu  Genre: major angst train ahead, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Synopsis: You were a coward and what do cowards do when they’re in an unfamiliar situation? They run, run until their legs can’t carry them. Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex ,unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion notes: for my first story, I had to write about my number one boy right now i- anyways minor spoilers but this is kind of an AU?? As far as I know, Atsumu, Aran, and Inunaki werent college buds and Atsumu and Inunaki didnt canonically go to college so yeah uwu. Ill be fixing up my masterlist when i have all this in order ngh... If you guys want to be tagged in future stories just  fill up the tag list or if you want to be tagged in just this story, send me a message :>

next   masterlist  

The first time Miya Atsumu sees you is Spring on the first year of college.

It had been a bad day for him, girls kept crowding him and annoying him about mundane things, even going so far as interrupting his practice at the gym. If Aran hadn’t stopped him, he’d have yelled at them at that moment for interrupting him.

As he was on his way home, his eyes caught your lone figure standing there with a red bull and a cup of cold brew on each of your hands whilst a phone was clipped between your ear and shoulder, your brows were furrowed together as if you were having trouble explaining something.

You looked like every college student out there. Your hair was in a tight ponytail, your clothes seemed to be in a bit of a disheveled state, and you looked like you hadn’t slept in days. The next action you did surprised him, you had mixed your coffee with the red bull and just drank it straight from the cup. 

The blonde was expecting a palpitation to happen any moment now but you remained there, unfazed by it all and still talking on the phone with your brows furrowed.

He didn’t even notice that he was openly staring at you until one of his teammates had approached him and asked him why he was just standing there, “Jus’ saw something weird.” He muttered, returning his gaze to where you stood but it seemed like you were gone then.

The first time that he actually talked to you was because he had accidentally did his service too hard and had hit you square on the stomach.

He feels his shoulder tense as you weakly let out that you were fine and that you just needed to talk to a member name Shion Inunaki for a project, you seemed to ignore him and what he did earlier, like you paid no mind to his presence.

Next thing he knows, he sees you around a lot on campus yet just like the first time he sees you and the first time he talks to you, you barely looked his way.

The days past quickly and it’s already the second half of the school year, he sees that your classmates in one of his minor classes and that you sit in front of him yet he feels like a fuckin’ scrub around you. You barely glance his way and when he tries to initiate a conversation, your words are curt and concise.

He asks his twin one night about it.

The only reply he got was, “You ain’t the center of the world, ‘sumu. People sometimes jus’ don’t give a shit about ya, stop thinking your some big shot.” 

He curses his twin and thus begins a two minute long argument between them as usual but as he’s about to end the call in sheer frustration and annoyance, his twin says something that shuts him up immediately, “Don’t tell me you got a lil’ crush over a girl who gives zero fucks about ya.” 

Silence.

“No fuckin’ way, Tsumu.” His twin choked on the other line, “Among all the people in that huge uni?- wheeze-You ended up liking one who barely knows your existence?’

“Shut up.”

“I gotta call Aran for that, fuckin’ masochist. This shit won’t end well.”

The blonde chunks his phone to the bed and groans out loud.

Surely it couldn’t be a crush, right?

Wrong.

Next thing he knows, it's already nearing the end of the second semester and he still craves for that attention from you. Aran feels like he’s crazy, saying how impossible it is to like someone who barely acknowledges his existence. Samu, on the other hand, reiterates that he probably just wanted you because you had this mysterious air and different attitude from the girls Atsumu met before. That and because he’s a masochist who loves hurting himself apparently.

Yet he shuts them down both because of the little opportunity created by his professor in the form of a project in pairs, you picked him much to his surprise, “...You're the only person I know here.” You simply replied.

When he hears those words, he cracks a lazy smirk, “We friends now or something?” he asked.

You clicked your tongue in reply, avoiding his gaze as you muttered, ‘I guess so.’

But after that little victory moment, you remained the same. He didn’t even get to see you outside class since you said that this project didn’t need meet-ups on the weekends or after class, the only thing he got was your number and even when he did try to strike a conversation through text, you gave very short responses.

“Stop simping over her, she probably got a boyfriend that’s why she ain’t lookin your way.” Osamu advised right after he confessed his worries.

Atsumu wishes he was wrong, he really does but he’s getting frustrated. So he attempts to heed Aran’s advice and tries to shake you off. He doesn’t seek you out in class anymore yet like always, you’re not even the least bit bothered by it. He feels queasy on how easy it is for you to be that way towards him but then again, it’s not like you cared about him in the first place.

Later that week, in the midst of his sulking, he’s at a frat party and he does his best to forget about you. There were a lot of beautiful women lining up for him and willing to give him all the attention he lacked from you yet when he’s making out with one of them and this close to getting laid in one of the quiet rooms upstairs, the door bursts open and there stands you, the girl he’s been trying to desperately ignore.

“O-Oh sorry… I-Wrong room...” Your voice that used to be void of emotion was now shaky and you seemed to be forcing yourself to speak. You didn’t seem to recognize him at all since it was dark but he knew that voice and that figure anywhere.Before he could say anything else though, you're out and about, closing the door behind you.

Just like that, Atsumu shoves the girl from his lap and hurriedly puts back his shirt on. He doesn’t care if the stranger was angry or if he was in a disheveled state, he just runs and follows you out.

“Hey! Y/N!” He calls out at the quiet street, out of breath. 

You slowly turned to him and he feels his heart stop at your unfamiliar appearance, your mascara was a mess from your crying and you had scratches on your knees, indicating that you must’ve fallen down somewhere tonight. The volleyball player clears his throat and slowly approaches you, “Hey.” he softly says, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket to hand it to you.

You hesitantly take it and try to get rid of the mascara running down your face.

“Come on, Y/N.” He croons as he takes off his jacket to put it on you, ‘samu was right about one thing, he really couldn’t say no to you, “Let's take you home.”

It was that little moment that made Miya Atsumu’s stepping stone towards you.

Yet in the end, despite those endless times of him chasing you, you still chose to run further away from him instead.

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