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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if you care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you two even meet?”

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

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

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

“That’s not what I meant.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ask questions.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was the walk over?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It… was mildly cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what’s the plan?”

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay yes one bad example—”

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

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

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only if you want to.”

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

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

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

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

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

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

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

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

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

“Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

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

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

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

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

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

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

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I will.”

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

“Excuse me—”

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

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

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

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

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

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

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

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

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

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

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

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

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

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

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: lool, why do u look constipated

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because it’s tradition!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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6okuto · 3 years ago

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Hihihi !! Do you have any headcanons for felix being a parent? I’m having. Baby fever lol and I think he’d be a cute dilf LMAO

— felix as a dad

note from nia: my eyes r being opened right now i genuinely rushed to do this first. i don't even want kids but hellooo dilf felix what's up what are you doing tonight i am free and single btw. i'm giving this to you guys before the multiple angst reqs you sent in so you see what you Could Have Had. If you chose Happiness.

the amount of time it takes for him to feel ready because he's scared of mirroring escell. that's angst i will not get into but [bonk] he definitely brought up his anxieties with florian for comfort

he reads so many books on parenting. like there's a stack of them, pages noted down and highlighted because he doesn't want to mess this up (please tell him parenting is not a perfect method before he gets grey hairs early smh)

pregnant reader // at your beck and call even if you try to stop him. "felix i can do it myself" "no you can't. and even if you can that doesn't mean you should, you are pregnant" "yeah, i'm pregnant not useless" "don't care. sit down"

he cares about his kids. so much. he will do anything for them (and you) especially for the first few weeks where he'll be the first one up if he hears the baby crying

you need to take a picture of him asleep by the crib.

terrified of them hurting themselves because "they're so small, why are children so small?"

he reads bedtime stories to them

tells them about the starsworn and his epic adventures, a hero to astraea and his children </33

he does the little picking them up and zooming around thing to make them laugh and feel like they're flying

his kid's first word is something along the lines of 'dad'/'dada' and he sends you the most accomplished, awe-struck, nervous yet excited look he has ever had on his face

very fun dad. blanket forts and snowball fights and telling ghost stories with a loud "BOO!" at the end before he grabs and tickles them

but he's also still a menace

he's the dad who sneaks his kids treats while his partner is out, whispering and asking them to promise not to tell because they'll all get in trouble

pulls little pranks on them

pulls pranks on you with them and high-fives afterwards

you know the dad trope of them looking at their partner for their opinion. like "dad can i go out tonight' [cue felix looking at you to see if you agree]

they accidentally swear in front of him for the first time and he chokes a little before just. "🤨 really?"

would be so excited to share his hobbies with his kids once they're old enough. they ask about the taxidermied animals around the house and what he does and his eyes light up like Finally,

him. he. he does little magic tricks to make them laugh

if they (finally) ask to learn how to do magic he's,, slightly scared [cue scene of him setting things on fire]. but also very willing!! he teaches them simple spells at first until they get older

so so supportive of them and what they want to do. won't send them to a magic academy like himself if they don't want to

helps decorate their room however they want. will buy things he thinks might fit in there and even if he's a little off his kids appreciate the sentiment

he keeps all of the drawings and cards or crafts they make. they hand something to him and he's genuinely so happy like "oh?? what's this? i can't believe my kid is already a master at the arts," even though it's some stick men who vaguely resemble your family

probably ends up seeing his kids in the kitchen late at night and it ends up being a secret regular occurrence because neither of them should be up

scylla comes over (wine aunt?!) and tries to embarrass him by telling stories from when they were younger. "has your dad told you about the time when we were younger at the park and he—" "scylla, so help me,"

felix throwing a surprise birthday party for them . i am so sad. he tries to decorate the cake with you and gets so many presents

he wants to make sure they can fend for themselves but know that their dad is only a couple steps behind them if they need help

like yeah respond to our texts and get home at an acceptable time. but if you ever find yourself sneaking out at 2am and you need a ride home, he's going to pick you up and ask if you're alright rather than hound you (I'M SO SAD.)

if someone hurts them in any way he asks if they want him to pull a prank or do some magic. partially to lighten the mood, but also if they said yes..he would. in a heartbeat

he's there for any concert or performance, any competition, every graduation

if you have any of your own cultural celebrations (a debut, quincenera, etc.) he is 100% ready to take part and support it. doesn't want them to feel separated </3

loser (affectionate) cries when he realizes how grown up they are

#🛒nia.reqs #last legacy #last legacy headcanons #last legacy fluff #last legacy felix #fictif felix #felix escellun #felix escellun headcanons #felix iskandar escellun #ohh i love him

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darkisrising · 2 years ago

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WiP: Stranger Things

Well, I tried to write a thing but life got in the way (aka I thru my back out? wtf is that about?) Don’t know if I’ll wind up finishing it even though I’d really wanted to for @doodlethings birthday (and you should ALL check out their Steddie drawings they are PERFECTION) so here, have nearly 2k of what was gearing up to be a Stranger Things Steddie fic but for now it’s just... I dunno. Characters being characters. Or something. Anyway, post Season 4, so spoilers for that, etc. Let me know if you like it, maybe I’ll get a second wind and actually finish the damn thing, who knows. Sigh. The Baby-Sitters Club #1 - Robin’s Great Idea

Hawkins is burning.

Which, to be fair, is nothing new. It’s been months of ash raining from the sky, of fissures fracturing underground and swallowing buildings whole, of FEMA and the Red Cross and way more church disaster relief groups than Steve can remember setting up shop and helping and leaving only to arrive again at the next wave of fires and fissures and disasters and the next and the next…

And even that is only the public stuff. There’s the years it’s been close to total destruction, held together with essentially El’s psychic equivalent of duct tape and, well, yeah.

So Hawkins is burning. Again. Big whoop.

“I’m just saying, maybe we ought to get away for a bit,” Robin says, her feet on the dash as they wait in the parking lot in front of the cluster of trailers that’s passing for the high school these days. “See the sights outside of Hawkins. Breathe air that doesn’t taste like an ashtray for a few days. You remember air, Steve, don’t you? Clean air?”

Robin’s getting louder and closer the more fixated she becomes on this idea, her hand finding Steve’s bicep and squeezing until he finally has to nudge her away with a: “Yeah, yeah, clean air. I remember it, jeez,” before she chokes his arm to death like a boa constrictor.

“Look at this shit. Just look at it,” Robin taps at the window, as if Steve needs a visual aid when the ash hasn’t let up in four months. “This isn’t clean air. This is like the opposite. The furthest thing from. Next thing you know they’re gonna bring in a camera crew to film an environmental PSA only instead of some old Native American dude crying it’ll be a dumpy middle-aged Hoosier dad. It’ll be Mr. Wheeler, and they’ll zoom in on his face and one single tear will be coming down,” she paints an invisible line on her cheek with an index finger, and contorts her face into a truly ridiculous frown until Steve can’t help but snort a laugh. Robin’s grin is bright as she continues: “And his thick glasses will get all fogged up. Just imagine it, it’ll be so sad. So very, very sad. Are you imagining it?”

The thing of it is, he’s not even lying when he says: “Yeah, yup. Imagining it,” because if there’s one thing Robin is it’s good with words. Or at least, she’s good with words that Steve can follow. Usually. For the most part. Granted, she uses a lot of them, so it’s kind of that law of averages thing that he vaguely remembers hearing about in Statistics class way back when. That thing where, because she tries every word known to man in a single sitting, Steve’s bound to grasp some of them eventually.

“So?” she asks with a blink of her big, blue eyes. The late afternoon sun has to work hard to slice through the thick clouds above, but it’s bright enough to find Robin’s nose through the windshield, to highlight the smattering of freckles across her face as she stares at him, waiting for a response.

“Clean air could be cool, I guess,” Steve mutters with a shrug, cutting his eyes back to the trailers just as an alarm sounds out the end of the school day.

There aren’t many kids still around Hawkins—most families got out back in the spring when the going was good—so it’s a sad little trickle that lets out, making their way down the stairs of their trailers which rock a bit with the movement. It’s nothing like the rush of people Steve remembers back when he was the king of Hawkins High, back when the student population was a sea that parted for anyone in a letterman jacket like they were that dude from the Bible, the one that parted the sea. Or maybe he walked on it—or was that a flood?—something like that, Steve never really did pay attention to that church shit back when his parents were around to drag him in every Sunday.

Now that Hawkins is ground zero for every Satan-fighting crusader in the Midwest, he’s even less inclined to give a shit about Christianity. Especially since all those brain-dead Bible thumpers seem to agree that, as far as they’re concerned, Satan’s name starts with an ‘E’ and ends with an ‘ddie Munson’ and that, well, that makes Steve want to do things like pick up a bat and go to town on every stained glass window the Presbyterian church has left.

Robin pokes his knuckles where they're gripping the steering wheel, scarred skin now bone white from how tight he's holding on, and with a start he lets go. He wipes his palms against his legs, rucking up his twill pastel blue shorts up his thighs even higher. Not that they're sweaty or anything, but it gives him something to do so he doesn't have to think about why, whenever he starts to think about Eddie Munson lately, a pit to rival any Upside Down gate opens in his guts.

"You good?"

"Yeah," Steve answers with a scoff. "Why wouldn't I be?" and Robin at least has the decency not to say anything else about it, even if her eyebrows are creased together with worry.

He catches sight of his band of merry misfits and pops the locks as they trudge closer. He waits. And waits. And waits some more, before hitting the button on the power windows and mutters "Would it kill them to pick up the pace?" to no one in particular before shouting out: “Come on, Henderson, Sinclair, Byers, Wheeler, Hopper, let’s go, go, go,” as he pounds on the outside of his driver’s side door.

When the door finally opens, Steve grouses “You know, maybe the rest of these dweebs I’m not surprised at, but you, Sinclair? You? You were on the basketball team. Where’s that hustle? Where’s that drive, huh?”

Lucas rolls his eyes as he tosses his backpack in, the rest of the brat pack following close behind as they all pile in, one by one, as Dustin whines: “Are you out of your mind? That new grape flavor absolutely ruined Fruity Pebbles."

"Well. Agree to disagree," Lucas shoots back, settling into his seat.

Mike, El, and Will squeeze their way into the back row, and for every twinge of regret Steve gets now and then for trading in his maroon BMW for an ‘84 Dodge Caravan, it's nothing compared to the ache of relief he feels somewhere around his demobat scars whenever he's got his entire brood together in one place.

The minivan might not be the sexiest thing that’s ever rumbled down the roads of Indiana, but he doesn’t even care anymore. Sex, once almost synonymous with the Steve Harrington name, is now the furthest thing from his mind. The change has been building for a while now, pretty much ever since his first taste of that whole, weird world just beside this one, but ever since the showdown with Venca a few months back Steve has all but lost interest. Girls and dates and sliding through the bases, it just doesn't do it for him anymore.

Now his life is simpler. Quieter. He picks up hours at the grocery store for cash, and helps out with whatever volunteer effort is in town, and ferries around his twerps whenever he can, and at the end of the day he crashes face first into the narrow, stupid bed of the RV camper he never bothered to return. Wake up and do it all again the next day.

True, there's a whole thing with El laying low as Jane, and Will's goosebumps, and being on the lookout for the next great disaster that's going to hit any day now, but even that is whatever. It doesn't take up much of his attention. He leaves that crap to everyone else. Say the word, he'll be there, ready to kick ass and take names but until then his life is this:

A minivan with faux wood panel siding, and a Robin riding shotgun, and five (sometimes six, on the rare occasions that Erica decides to grace them with her presence) little jerks bitching and moaning and arguing about Fruity fucking Pebbles behind him.

“It’s disgusting,” Dustin declares. “It’s trash, it besmirches the names of Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, and Post cereal should be ashamed of themself for this stunt. Come on, somebody. Back me up here!”

“I like it,” El says, voice soft and through the rear view mirror Steve can see her shy, one-shouldered shrug and quirked half-smile. For a kid with all the power in the world, she’s still so quiet most of the time. It’s easy to forget she could probably crush them all like a Coke can with just a thought if she ever had a reason to.

Steve’s not used to people having an advantage in life without being more than willing to take it, to lord it over people or worse, turn it into a weapon, be it that they’re stronger or smarter or richer or come from a long line of guys with a great head of hair. Survival of the fittest, as his dad always liked to say, but Eleven seems perfectly content to stay small, and unassuming, and curl up next to Mike in the back. There’s something about that almost feels like permission? in a way? For Steve to not worry so much that, for all that he’s older, he’s been well and truly whipped by a ragtag group of children into being their stooge. Even if it does piss him off that no one is listening when he yells through the chaos: “Okay. Seat belts, we all got our seat belts on back there?”

“I like it, too!” Mike agrees, a little too eager to take El’s side, and Dustin rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t rattle out of his skull completely.

“Safety first, guys. Come on—”

“Honestly,” Will chimes in. “I just think it’s weird they have a cereal that’s basically like ‘here, kids, eat some rocks for breakfast.’”

“I paid for the extra row of seats—“

“I mean, Pop Rocks are, you know, also rocks. But in candy form,” Lucas points out.

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “And that’s weird, too, when you think about it.”

“ —the least you little shits could do is buckle up.”

“So then don’t think about it!” Dustin yells.

“Well,” Lucas says with a sigh. “Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Wait, isn't Fred Flintstone’s daughter called ‘Pebbles’?” Mike asks.

“Oh, because that makes sense, we’re eating Fred’s child instead of—”

“I never said—”

Robin launches herself forward, twisting at the radio dials until the Miami Sound Machine is blasting through the minivan, Gloria Estefan crooning how words get in the way as everyone slaps their palms to their ears. When Robin turns it down again, everyone has been cowed into silence and her raspy voice is smug when she says: “There. Brutal, but effective. Anyway, you were saying, Steve?”

“Oh, uh,” he answers with a blink. “Right, yeah. Seat belts on.”

This time they actually do it, even if Dustin is muttering to himself: ”Of course Steve is listening to mom music.”

“Hey, dude, come on. It was the radio. I don’t control the radio.”

“Sure, sure. I believe you,” Dustin says, dripping with sarcasm. “I toooootally believe you. Mom.”

“Hey,” Robin raises a finger in warning and Steve doesn’t need to spare another look sideways to see she’s not as serious as she’s pretending to be. “Show some goddamn respect.” She settles back into her seat. “That’s Mr. Mom to you.”

#DarkIsRising fic #stranger things #wip #season four spoilers

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neakco · 4 years ago

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The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

“You okay?”

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

“You two are very strange.”

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #the lost temple #adventure #rin writes

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hooniee · 4 years ago

Text

— ꒰‧⁺paris run away *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

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

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3" your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet.

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled.

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan.

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president.

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue.

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head.

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore? i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-"

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?"

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that.

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head.

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup," you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice.

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything.

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time.

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you.

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him?

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile.

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

63 notes · View notes

elliewritessometimes · 4 years ago

Text

skype tomorrow but it's m o r e

it's 10:30 i'm v tired but i hope you like :D

tw: lots of mentions of drugs and injury, sort of dissociative ways, it's chess and she's just kinda out of it the whole way through i guess be aware of that. as usual, let me know if there's anything i've missed or you want me to tag :))

Realistically, it's still summer, warm enough that Riley's back door is thrown open to let the heat and various insects in. If she listens carefully, Chess can hear Cairo's music playing from the basement, and, even closer, the frantic buzz of a cricket in the grass. Realistically, with all this in mind, Chess should not be cold as she tiptoes around the side of the house.

But Chess does not live in a realistic world. She lives in a broken sort of world, where it's crumbly, sandy pills that cause relief to a dry throat instead of water, where those same pills cause goosebumps in August, and a world where knees and skulls make the same crack when they hit the floor.

It's a messed up world, really, but one with the sweetest highs that Chess is too stubborn to let go of. Kate is one of these highs, which is how Chess finds herself creeping into Riley's backyard in search for her mean, spiteful, protective, brilliant friend.

Kate's there, just where she should be, and Chess' mind wonders why there's moonlight fallen onto their cheeks. She smiles because with the moonlight as a sort of ethereal highlighter on their face, Kate looks a little like she's glowing. It's nice, really nice, until Kate lets out a sob and Chess' smile falters. Her world comes a little more into focus.

"Katie?"

The junior looks up with a start, the moonlight dripping in tears onto her shirt. They sniff, pulling her knees closer into their chest. "Hi."

Later, perhaps in ten minutes time, Chess will wonder why she didn't wrap Kate in a hug at that moment. She supposes we never know what the best decision was until it's a memory. Instead, she tilts her head, allowing Kate to zoom into focus as the rest of the world blurs away into spirals and distant cracks. "Can we talk?"

It's so obvious that Kate doesn't want to talk but she says it anyway because sometimes a question is the only thing she can offer.

They talk anyway. Kate continues to cry.

"I just- I don't- I don't want you to go." They only stutter when they get like this. Chess knows this, she's known for years and years, because they're best friends and nothing's gonna change that, Katie.

Chess shivers again as she reassures Kate's frantic brain. She thinks it's going so well, can feel Kate edging closer like she always does until they're leaning against each other.

"Thanks, Chess." Her voice is steady now, steadier than Chess herself.

"'s okay." And she pulls Kate even tighter to her side. The crickets go silent as something rustles by the door so Chess tells herself that this is for protection and not comfort. Maybe she's right.

Realistically, Chess knows she should let the junior brush away their own tears, but her hands sometimes don't listen to reality. The motion triggered yard light flicks off with a click, darkness making the buzzing crickets even louder. Kate presses her chin into Chess' collarbone. It doesn't hurt even though it should.

Here, in the dark, Kate's eyes could be filled with moonlight again. Fallen stars, she wonders. "Chess-"

If Chess listens carefully, she can hear mean laughter in Riley's house and, even closer, the hiss of a switched off light. In a normal world, one without any bitter pills or stiff joints, she would be shivering with the evening breeze.

But, as we know, this isn't a normal world and Chess can be warm as Kate kisses her in Riley's backyard to a soundtrack of crickets. It's sweet, something soft and quiet and maybe a little bit sad. For once, Chess is truly happy in her little made-up world.

Kate presses their forehead against hers, eyeliner smudged wetly at the edges. They laugh together, best friends again, because it doesn't matter where they are, because nothing's going to change that, because they both might be a little bit in love. If Kate's tongue is sandy from Chess' bitter pills, she doesn't say anything and they're okay again.

Something rustles by the door again and the yard light flickers on, just as Kate, tired and giggling, reaches around Chess' waist and into her jacket pocket.

Kate's hand comes into sharp contact with a bottle and the echoes the rattle makes a sound a little like a distant crack. Chess' unrealistic, cursed world falls out of focus once more and when she looks back, there's moonlight on Kate's cheeks again and, if she listens carefully, the slam of a door, before she's alone and shivering once more.

#im so tired #and posting this in a hurry #may come back and edit tags later probably not lolol #drug mention #injury mention #we are the tigers #chess watt #kate dalton #checkate #yep :)#have a good day love yall

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dspere · 4 years ago

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Quick thoughts on Sad-ist’s animations (specifically on the color white).

/rp

Thoughts on Sad-ist’s use of white in the animations, notably in “Dawn of 16th” and “Hog Hunt” (probably going to polish this up so don’t reblog!) Feel free to respond/add on in the replies or in my ask box lmao, I’d actually encourage it!

She (Sad-ist) made mention of how white for her symbolized a very personal connection.

White’s color psychology has many meanings, but I want to focus shortly on this one: “The color white often seems like a blank slate, symbolizing a new beginning or a fresh start... white can seem stark, cold, and isolated.” (x).

In “Dawn of 16th”, white is used primarily in Wilbur’s assisted suicide via Phil, and the destruction of L’Manberg via the button. We see Phil’s angelic wing behind Wil, right before it cuts back to reality, the wing retracting and Wil’s eyes, for the first time in a while, being shocked back to complete color (if you notice, his exile with Tommy, Wil’s eyes become scratchy and never fully get back to being fully colored.) It shows a deep and harsh realization, it leaves a sense of connectedness as Sad-ist describes in her interpretation of white. Wil’s suicide is an inherently personal one, and it’s something he has hinted at and expressed interest in for a long time.

Paralleling Wil back to Eret as he recites the story of L’Manberg’s traitor, we see how deeply he’s internalized his narrative of an unfinished symphony.

The final moment between Wil and Phil shows Phil grasping out to him, saving him from the explosive blast, saluting, his eyes not visible. The moment cuts harshly to the button being pressed. The moment ends. It cuts harshly back to reality.

In “Hog Hunt”, we see white in Techno’s execution, as the anvil falls, audiences follow from an upper perspective, zooming in on Techno’s face, the anvil coming into view in his eye. Cut to Ghostbur, with the only color in the scene being his sword wound from Phil, and the outline of Friend’s fur. The color comes back as the anvil comes back into view from Ghostbur’s outsider POV.

Then, we see the totem shocking it back to white, green accents in the frame, generating a sense of unreality, and we see Techno in color being stitched back together with green thread.

Here, we get a break from reality, intentionally making the moment slow down, audiences given a moment to process the fear and anxiety in the moments right before death (and more importantly) highlighting the purpose and utility of the totem, reviving Techno and undoing death.

Essentially, we see white used as a means to express moments close and sensitive to death, calling back to the meaning outlined above about white serving as a blank slate, and playing into the idea of an isolated and concentrated space.

#sad-ist #sad-ist analysis #technoblade #wilbur #philza

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metalrequiem · 3 years ago

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Darling Dearest

hey remember that filly i drew and then didnt explain myself. well here u go :) her name is darling hooves and she is baby

description under cut

[ID: A collection of sketches relating to the fanfic chapter Darling Dearest. From top left to bottom right:

Derpy Hooves stands facing her sister, Darling Hooves, who has a suitcase with her.

A closeup of Derpy’s face. She has a smile and is sweating nervously. It’s captioned “I have no idea how to take care of a foal.”

A three panel mini-comic. The first panel is of Derpy and Sunset Shimmer laying next to each other. Derpy is saying, “I just don’t get why they’d send her down. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with her.” The second panel shows Darling sitting at a table looking at a muffin. The third panel shows Darling slamming her face down on the muffin/table.

Pinkie Pie and Darling stand nose-to-nose. Pinkie Pie is leaning forward, trotting in place and shaking excitedly while saying, “Welcome to Ponyville!!!” Darling is leaning away from her, uncomfortable. Her suitcase is next to her.

Silver Spoon lays on her back with her eyes closed and her limbs splayed out. Her glasses are strewn next to her. Darling is resting her head on her chest on one side. Diamond Tiara is on her other side with an arm slung over her middle. The picture is captioned “CUDDLE PILE”

A full drawing of the Main 6 and Spike hanging out in the library. Derpy stands closest to the viewed, gesturing happily and saying “These are my friends! We saved the world last month.” Behind her, Sassy Saddles and Zecora are next to papers Sassy has highlighted. Sassy is standing with a hoof over her face and her eyes closed. She’s saying “Derpy...” Zecora is laying down and smiling up at the viewer. Sunset Shimmer and Gilda are sitting at a table playing cards.Gilda is looking at her hand while waving with her wing. She’s saying “Nice one.” Sunset is sitting across from her, turning around slightly to wave at the viewer. Rara is laying on the ground next to the table, smiling and waving at the viewer. Spike is standing on the stairs, waving with a book in his hand and saying “Hello!!!”

Derpy has her hooves on her head, freaking out and saying “AM I A SINGLE MOTHER NOW???” Gilda is standing next to her and is putting a claw on her shoulder, saying “Chill.”

A three panel mini-comic. In the first panel, we see Darling and her case from behind, standing in the doorway of her new room, which has been put together for her. There are balloons by the bed, which is made and has a heart for a headboard. There’s a lamp on the nightstand. Across from the bed, there’s a dresser, and next to that is a desk. On the far end, there’s a window-alcove with the curtains drawn back. The second panel is a close up of Darling’s face as she takes in the room with wide eyes. The third panel is another close up, this one showing her crying as she’s overwhelmed by her emotions.

Darling is standing next to Cheerilee with her mane over her face. Cheerilee is putting a hoof on her shoulder comfortingly as she addresses an unseen class, saying “This is Darling Hooves - she’s joining us from Cloudsdale.”

Derpy is flying with a tray of muffins, saying “Welcome home! I made muffins!” Darling is standing in the doorway with her schoolbag on, leaning away from Derpy in surprise.

A closeup of Sassy Saddles from mid-leg up. She has her eyes closer, brows furrowed, and a hoof over her face. She’s saying “You are literally all so inept.”

Diamond Tiara is sitting in the Carousel Boutique storage room doing her homework. Her saddlebag is laying next to her. She’s saying “K.” in response to Sassy Saddles, who’s leaning in the doorway and saying “Hey, hang out with the new kid or you’re fired.”

Diamond Tiara is wearing her school bag and walking past Sassy Saddles, who’s putting a flapper-esque outfit on a mannequin. Sassy is looking at her happily and saying “So what do you think of Darling Hooves? Sweet filly, right?”

A four panel mini-comic. In the first panel, Derpy is standing in front of Sunset Shimmer, rubbing her hoof anxiously and looking away. She’s saying “She just isn’t talkin’ t’anypony... Shouldn’t she have friends by now?” Sunset is gesturing wildly at her with exasperation, yelling “LITERALLY WHY DO YOU THINK I KNOW”. The second panel is an extreme zoom out. Sunset is saying “Okay uh let’s just. Let’s ask Gilda. She’s working right now, isn’t she?” In the third panel, Derpy and Sunset are standing in the doorway of Sugar Cube Corner. Gilda is wiping down the counter and Zecora is sitting on a stool across from her, spun around so she can see Sunset and Derpy. Sunset is saying “Hey, Derpy’s sister should have friends by now, right?” The fourth panel is a closeup of the counter. Gilda is shrugging with one claw, saying “Do I really look like somepony who’d know that?” Zecora has turned back around towards Gilda, with a hoof up to her mouth, looking down at the counter contemplatively. She’s muttering “Maybe...?”

Darling and Diamond Tiara stand across from Silver Spoon, who’s looking at them with wide eyes. Diamond Tiara is gesturing to Darling, saying “This is Darling. She’s our friend now, I guess.” Darling is zoned out, captioned “I have no idea what’s going on”.

A three panel mini-comic. In the first panel, Darling and Silver Spoon are walking next to each other. Darling is looking down and saying “Hey look, a rabbit! I’ve never seen one before!” Silver Spoon is looking at her and saying “That’s so sad?” In the second panel, Darling turns to look at Silver Spoon and says “Do you think it’s possible to put one on a carnivorous diet?” The third panel is a close up of just Silver Spoon, looking at Darling in wide-eyed alarm. It’s captioned “I NEED AN ADULT”.

Diamond Tiara is pacing in front of Darling protectively, angrily yelling “YOU TAKE THAT BACK! Only we’re allowed to make fun of her!” Behind her, Darling is looking down and to the side sadly. Silver Spoon has an arm around her, saying “Yeah!” in support of Diamond Tiara’s exclamation. End ID]

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starglossie · 4 years ago

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HINAYACHI NATION WE RISE!!! [ read here: we make a sunset, you and i ]

Summary: Yachi loves highlighters. They're perfect for when she's taking notes. But her one orange highlighter just doesn't sit right. It's not the right shade of orange. And she can't really place what shade she's looking for until she spots Hinata. And when she does, she thinks:Yes, that's it. That's the perfect shade.

CAN ALSO BE READ DOWN BELOW!

Yachi loved highlighters.

Especially the pastel kind! They were the right shade of pink and blue and purple and yellow. A soft brightness that sat well on her paper when she dragged the felt tip across a certain word to make it pop.

She’d always been into color coding her notes. Colors were a great way to organize things. Blue for definitions. Greens for important takeaways. Pinks for material that will definitely be tested on an exam. Colors made sense.

Every so often she’d start vibing with a certain color. Some days her reading notes were more baby pink than sky blue. Or dewy green compared to lilac purple. Now, she found herself leaning towards her orange highlighter more. Though she quickly discovered, as she highlighted her notes in class and frowned deeply when the shade of orange wasn’t dark enough, that the shade simply wasn’t… right.

“Yachi!”

Yachi looked up from her notes. Hinata sat in the chair in front of her desk, resting his elbows on her desk. The sun was streaming boldly through the window, illuminating Hinata’s face and making his hair extra prominent in Yachi’s eyes. A fiery mass of orange. So bright you could never miss it.

That’s the right shade , she thought. Looking down at her orange highlighter that paled in comparison. If she could find a highlighter like Hinata’s hair. She’d be golden. Or, ha, orange . She laughed at her own little joke. Hinata scrunched his face in return.

“Whatcha laughing at?”

“Oh! Nothing,” she kicked her feet under her desk. A soft, rosey red bloomed on her cheeks. She could never share that joke. She’d combust from the embarrassment alone. “Is everything alright, Hinata?”

“No! We have a test coming up!” Yachi couldn’t but smile despite Hinata’s clear distress. Tests were not Hinata’s strong suit in the slightest. Though he was incredibly determined with his studying-or he tried to be, Yachi would give him kudos where kudos were due.

“Ah right...” she opened up her planner. It had bright sunflowers on the front and her name engraved in white. She flipped to March’s calendar where, two weeks from now, she had circled in bright pink EXAM TODAY! “I was going to text you about when you’d like to meet and study! I already started compiling a notebook for you…”

“Really?” Hinata’s eyes widened. They were so bright, Yachi thought they could have been covered with stars. “ Yachi, you’re incredible!”

Heat rose under her cheeks. She wanted to say this was nothing special. That the word incredible shouldn’t be used for something that, to her, was the natural course of things. Of course she’d make a notebook for him. She’d been doing that for years. And she enjoyed the little rush she got when she placed the tabs just right and when she created the perfect outline that aligned with the way Hinata best broke down information.

But for Hinata to think she’s incredible, all the same, a pleasant heat pooled under her skin that mirrored the baking warmth you get sitting under the sun at the beach for a few hours.

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” she said, popping the cap of her highlighter up than clicking it down. “We can review during lunchtime? Or maybe after practice if you’re not too tired?”

They were third years now. And every time Yachi thought about how two years had passed since she joined the volleyball club, awe and a little bit of sadness washed over her. She never pictured her high school life surrounding the sport and now, she couldn’t imagine what her high school life would have been like if she hadn’t joined.

She would open her journals sometimes. The ones she kept to write down how her day went, to give gratitude, to scribble down little prayers when they popped into her mind-for good health, for a meteor to not crash into her roof, for her mother’s happiness, to maybe fall in love-and read back over what she wrote. She’d grown so much and to just see that progress was sometimes unbelievable. But in such a good way. Like watching a plant go from a bud to full bloom.

She felt like she had bloomed, or well-was in the process of blooming. And she had to thank volleyball for that. For bringing her to the people that helped her grow.

“Hmmm,” Hinata hummed. He rubbed at his nose in thought. “Let’s do it after practice! ‘Cause I can’t eat and study at the same time. I’ll be way too focused on eating. Not so much on studying, haha.”

Hinata and Yachi had grown close over the years. They’d been in the same class all three years, while Kageyama got placed in class with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima (much to Tsukishima’s unbridled annoyance and Yamaguchi’s unashamed delight). Hinata’s response made Yachi smile. She expected that to be the answer. And opened her planner so she could write down Studying with Hinata!! In her favorite blue gel pen.

“Yachi you have so many pens and pencils and highlighters. Aren’t you overwhelmed?”

She slid her gel pen back into her pencil pouch purely for gel pens. “Oh! No not at all. I like having so many colors. I find it’s fun to pick and choose which one I want to use for notes.”

“Oh yeah! They’re kind of like, a mood ring, but not really. More like, mood… coloring? Something like that!” he finished with a laugh. And if it were anyone else in the world, Yachi might have felt like they said that just to humor her. But Hinata never said something he didn’t mean. He always spoke purely, from his heart. And that always made Yachi feel comfortable being her whole self. Illuminated in the glow that was Hinata Shouyou.

I wish I could find an orange highlighter that’s the shade of his hair, she thought. “Mood coloring! Hm yeah, that makes sense! Because sometimes I really want to use a pink highlighter because I’m feeling that particular shade!” she pulled out a soft, rosey pink highlighter. The color of cotton candy and then slipped it back into the pouch. “Or sometimes I’m in a minty green kind of mood!” she pulled out another highlighter for reference.

Hinata looked at her as if she was pulling out magical wands that sparkled and created starlights at their tips. “These are the coolest colors!” he reached for her hand, their fingers brushed. And as if she were shocked, she gasped. Dropping her highlighter to the table. It clattered softly onto her open notebook. “Ah, I’m sorry Yachi.” Hinata frowned, looking apologetic.

“N-No!” she was quick to correct. He had to know that he wasn’t at fault. That the electricity generated that shocked her fingers and made her pulse quicken was a newly crafted design that had, like her blooming, steadily grown over the years to this moment. “It was just a little static shock as all! It happens, haha.” she reached for her highlighter. Her cheeks burned.

In her journals, she had started writing out a name. And sometimes, that name had a few hearts beside it.

She was terribly infatuated, she realized every time she stared down at the suddenly not so blank page covered in that name with so many hearts .

Hinata fixed her with that same look he got when he was picking someone apart and wasn’t ashamed for you to realize he was doing so. It only lasted a second. Then, he was smiling again. A slow smile, and he leaned forward, his voice softer.

“Can you show me where you get those highlighters? Maybe after school before we start studying?”

Oh goodness is this a date? Her mind conjured with a swiftness. No! Hitoka! Do not jump to such conclusions! He’s your friend-one of your best friends. It’s just a friendly thing. And sure it’s happening on a date of the week but that doesn’t mean-

“Yes!” she tapped her feet on the ground with excitement, nodding fervently. “Yes that’s perfect!”

“Great! Sounds good then!”

Hinata jumped up just as his name was called. Kageyama was at the door. Hinata pointed a finger at him. “Kageyama! You came early! I’m ready to kick your ass if you’re ready to get your ass kicked!”

“Stupid, I’m gonna win. Hi Yachi,” Kageyama waved at Yachi. Yachi beamed, waving in return. ”I’ve been stretching all morning during class. My long jump is going to beat yours hands. No. Legs down.”

Another thing Yachi had gained over the years was the ability to understand the secret language that was Hinata and Kageyama’s dynamic. Honestly, once you understood that they made a competition out of everything, filling in the gaps came easily after that.

“What’s the competition this time?” Yachi chuckled, putting her planner back into her bag.

“Kageyama and I are gonna see who has the best long jump!” Hinata explained. “I won last time but Kageyama’s a sore loser so we gotta do it again.”

“I’m not! My legs weren’t at maximum stretch, that’s all.”

“What are you, Luffy? Are you going to try and find One Piece next?” Hinata asked, running through the classroom to get to Kageyama. Waving by to the students who called out to him as he did.

The last thing Yachi heard as they left the classroom was Kageyma ask, “The fuck is a One Piece?”

After practice, Yachi had a routine.

First, she gathered up all the balls with the help of her volleyball players and put them all away. Then, she took down the nets and rolled them up to be carried into the practice shed. She liked to imagine they were giant pieces of dough she was rolling up for cannolis. Afterwards she liked to clean the gym floors. She didn’t have to, but she wanted to. It was a nice feeling. Getting the giant mop and pushing it through the gym, up and down. She would pretend that she was in Mario Kart and her car was a giant, turbine-powered mop that could zoom lightning fast down the track!

After she finished mopping, she would go through every single volleyball and squeeze it exactly six times (one for every letter of her name) to check the air pressure. If a volleyball was flat, she’d pump it up until it was all full and no flat. Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking (and she always checked her surroundings three times) she’d try to hit a few balls over the net. Over the years, she’d gotten better! And could not do a solid overhand serve with little to no effort. Her hand always tingled after the ball connected with her palm. But she rather liked the feeling. And she always clutched her palm tightly as if she were holding a fallen star in her hand. To make the sting hold on a little longer. To keep the moment from fading away…

She threw another volleyball up in the air. Just to feel the tingle again.

“YACHI, YOU’RE STILL HERE!”

The ball dropped onto her head, sending a brief bout of pain down her neck and spine. “GAH!” the ball bounced onto the floor two… six… eight times before it rolled all the way to Hinata’s feet. “Ow! Ow! Ah… H-Hinata?” she felt heat swarm her neck and dominated her cheeks. Aw man.. She had hoped no one would have been around!

Hinata leaned down and picked up the ball. Holding it out with one palm, grinning to himself. He walked over to Yachi and held the ball with two hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya! Were you practicing your serve? I can receive some if you want!”

“No! No no I was just… playing around, haha.” Hinata’s receives were really something to witness though. They were beautiful in their own way. How he moved with a sharpened, feral precision to meet the ball wherever it was aimed time and time again without fail. Yachi could never tear her eyes away from Hinata once he stepped on the court.

He was her favorite player to watch.

“Ah, another time then. Are you almost done here?”

“Almost! We’re still going to the store, right?”

“Yeah! To get those highlighters you use! I wanna get like, thirty .” Hinata dropped the volleyball and started dribbling it with his knees. “Um wait. I should check my allowance first. But thirty would be nice.”

“We can do ten to start,” Yachi offered with a smile, watching Hinata play with the ball like it’s a part of him - a piece of his energy. “I already have a pack of mind.”

She hoped she could find an orange highlighter while they were out too. One that was as bright as Hinata’s hair in the late afternoon sunlight that crept into the gym through the windows. Hinata smiled at her wide and the wind got knocked out of her. Her heart clenched fiercely and when Hinata put the ball away in the ball crate beside Yachi, she inhaled sharply.

“Yachi, has anyone told you how you’re so... ?” Hinata’s not looking at her. His hands were deep in the ball crate as he put away the remaining volleyballs Yachi hadn’t finished storing yet. “What’s the word? Not just kind-which you are. But you’re so… oh!” he turned his head and it was like daybreak bloomed in that very moment. “Thoughtful. Like, the most thoughtful person I know cause you’re always considering and thinking about others-even for the smallest of things.”

The blood in Yachi roared. Her heart squeezed something terrible. Hinata was going on about how Yachi had so many thoughts about other people he wondered how anyone could ever feel lonely or forgotten when Yachi was there. To consider them and acknowledge them and give them space. He went on about how her brain must be so big because it carried so many thoughts and how her heart must be so large because it cared for people without hesitation.

“It’s why you’re such a good manager!” Hinata said with a sense of finality to his words. “All these years you’ve been taking care of us and I speak for everyone-even Kageyama but he’s shy so he’ll never admit this-when I say you’re irreplaceable. One of a kin-are you crying?”

Yachi was, in fact, crying. Hot pools of tears that were flowing down her face without stopping. “Ah! I’m crying!” She gasped. No no no. Why was she crying? No, no her tears weren’t hormones going wild. Or from her usual bout of a fifteen minute stress cry followed by a forty five minute power walk that concluded with a ten minute ice cream break after.

No, her tears were from the praises of sunlight Hinata had basked her in.

She wiped at her face furiously, sniffling as she did. Hinata was fussing. Waving his arms around wildly. His face was as red and maybe as scorched as hers felt.

“I’m sorry!!! I didn’t mean to compliment you to tears!”

“No it’s okay!!! I didn’t mean to cry from your compliments!!! They were very nice!”

“Do you need a tissue? I have a pack of two with cats on them that I use for Natsu sometimes!”

“Yes I’d like one of your packs of tissues you use for Natsu sometimes I also like cats!”

“Ok!” Hinata pulled out a pack of tissues, the ones with the cats on them, and handed them to Yachi.

She took the pack and a tissue to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose. She put the pack in one pocket and then the used tissue in the other-that she’d throw out later, of course. A beat of silence passed between them. Yachi glanced up shyly at Hinata. Hinata glanced down shyly at her.

They both bursted out in laughter.

“Let’s go to the store!” Hinata said.

Yachi nodded, “To the store!”

“So you use post-it notes to take notes…”

“Sometimes! Or I’ll use it for book marks or to tab important sections to go back for review.”

“Huh,” Hinata said, holding up two packs of post-it notes. One had a stack of green, orange, and yellow. Another had a stack of blue, pink and purple. “I’ve always used them to make little paper frogs.”

Yachi snorted. “Well that’s definitely a good use for it…” they had spent about an hour or so at the stationary store.

Their game plan was to buy the highlighters so they could use it for their study session. But then Hinata got distracted looking at all the notebooks with designs on the cover.

“A purple tiger! Wait, that’s Mahou Ranger Blue! WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT A COW?”

And Yachi, of course, followed along. She pointed out some of her own favorites from the stack. A sunflower cover. A panda cover. And one special notebook that you could design the front yourself that came with a small pack of markers attached.

Hinata then discovered the wonderful world of stickers and now, in the little basket Yachi had the sound mind to grab once Hinata started pulling object after object from the shelves, was filled with seven sticker packs, two notebooks, and three rolls of washi tape.

“This place is so cool…” Hinata was awestruck as he dropped the post-it note packs with orange and yellow into the basket. “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes,” Yachi tapped her fingers on the top of her knees. “When I need to restock. Or when I need to self-care and indulge. Or uh, when I’m bored.”

Hinata nodded several times, “I don’t even know where I’m going to put all those stickers… maybe on Kageyama and have him freak out about where they came from.”

“That would be very chaotic.”

“Hehe, right! Oh yeah, the highlighters. We didn’t get the highlighters!”

“They’re over there,” Yachi pointed at the aisle with a sign saying HIGHLIGHTERS written in bright colors. “There’s a whole section for them.”

“A WHOLE section,” he sounded like a kid in a candy store who was given permission to go wild. “Let’s go!”

They went through every section of the highlighter aisle. Hinata was enamored by all the colors. “There’s ten shades of purple how is that even possible !” and “Wait this is literally the color of the sky I love this shade of blue!” and “Oh my God why would they make a highlighter that’s turd colored aren’t they ashamed? Don’t their parents love them?”

Yachi laughed so hard her sides hurt. Hinata was enjoyment incarnate. Being with him was fun, always. She never got bored or tired or felt like she had to work hard to fill in a space of silence when she was with Hinata. He made it feel like gaps were easier to fill. Like moments were more memorable. Like conversations just held more weight when Hinata Shouyou was on the other end of the line.

She kept glancing at Hinata’s hair as he tested every single highlighter he could on the test paper. The bright mound of orange that looked like untamed fire. She wondered how soft it was. If he used any special type of shampoo. If he could tie it into a pony tail now because it had grown much, much longer since they were first years. She wondered if he would let her put it into a ponytail. She wondered if the gaps between her fingers would be wide enough for his hair to slide through as she curled her hands into his hair while they-

“Yachi look!” Hinata was holding up a yellow highlighter. He put it close enough to her face and stuck out his tongue in thought. Eyes narrowed in concentration and zeroed in right on her. Making Yachi stand a little straighter. “Oh yeah… this is the perfect shade.”

“The perfect shade for what?”

“It matches your hair! This yellow, I mean.” Hinata explained. He took one of the test papers that was blank and ripped it out of the notebook. With a flick of his thumb, he uncapped the marker and drew a thick, bold line of yellow onto the page. “See? It’s just like your hair. Don’t ya think?”

Yachi’s fingers found themselves to the end of her ponytails. Pulling slightly so she could get a better look. She did a double take. Her heart skipped double beats. “Oh… it does. It does!”

“Hehehe, I’m gonna get it.” he dropped the highlighter in the basket. The only highlighter out of all the ones he tested out. “Ok. Did you find a color yet?”

“You’re only getting… this one?” Yachi’s not sure how to take that. But then, it’s Hinata. He’s simply complicated sometimes.

“Mhm. That’s the one. I like it the best.” and her mind filled in the blanks that weren’t there. Put in the puzzle pieces to fit so the conclusion was he liked that highlighter the best because it reminded him of her (hair color, her mind provided. Not you specifically. Does the distinction even matter! ).

“Ah for me… I…” slowly, she kept walking down the aisle. Hinata trailing behind her. Head turning on either side, searching and gazing until-”Oh! That one!” she pointed at an orange highlighter at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes but her fingers were a few inches short.

“Here,” Hinata was behind her. His chest to her back. His heat a warm blanket that drowned her in the fantasy of the shelves replaced by a kitchen counter and a cabinet. Their own little apartment instead of the stationary shop. Intimacy and familiarity humming between the small distance between their bodies. And Yachi would turn. Turn around and look up at Hinata and see the curve of his chin. See the slope of his collarbone that would slip into the crook of his shirt collar. And when Hinata would tilt down, and their eyes would meet, and Yachi would swoon because being so close she can drown in his scent. And she’d reach up onto her tip toes to-

“The highlighter,” Hinata’s heat was gone. The highlighter was now in her face while Hinata grinned. “My super reach was able to grab it no problems! Here ya go.”

An orange the color of Hinata’s hair. Where she could use it whenever she felt a yearning in her chest and could reach into her pencil pouch. Pull out the highlighter. And find words in one of her novels that made her heart twinge the same tune and level of longing she felt whenever she overheard Hinata’s laugh or had his smile directed at her. Her Hinata orange.

She reached out to grab the pencil. Their fingers brushed briefly. A warm spark that went right to her toes.

“Thank you,” she said, curling her fingers around the highlighter in a silent prayer before dropping it into the basket. “I’ve been looking for a shade like that for a long time. The right kind of orange!” her throat feels dry. Her chest is throbbing something horrible.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

She thought about the yellow highlighter laying underneath the orange one in her basket. How Hinata said this is perfect - because it’s like your hair. She swallowed past the nerves in her throat.

“It reminds me of… you. Your hair,” she quickly tacked on.

Hinata doesn’t move. And that put her on alarm because Hinata was always moving. His stillness was a sign of the unexpected coming.

And when it came, it stole the last remnants of her heart that was untouched by this feeling, taking control of her body and conquering it in the name of Hinata Shouyou.

His smile was bold and brilliant and bright. Wide as a watermelon. As dazzling as star bright. His face was red. Red to his cheeks and his chin and the tip of his nose-all red and covered in a blush. He laughed, and it was a little off kilter. A little high pitched in the middle but leveled off at the ends.

“Yeah?” he rubbed at the bottom of his nose. “Heh...hehe…”

“Hehe...hehehe…”

“Hehehehehehe.”

“Heheheehehhee.”

Yachi set down a tray of juice and some snacks on the table made after Hinata had pushed aside their revision materials to make space. She laughed, finding Hinata with his cheek smushed against the table. His eyebrows knitted so deeply together they’d probably become a blanket.

“Hi. Are you tired?” she asked, kneeling on her pillow.

“When I close my eyes all I see are multiplication signs and equal signs… it’s horrible!”

“Have you tried opening your eyes?”

“It’s no difference cause it’s right on the page!”

They’d been studying for a good chunk of the evening. Nearly everyday after school they’d come back to Yachi’s place to study. Their exam was at the end of the month. And they had about another week or so to prepare. Yachi, thankfully, had notebooks organized and compiled by subject and tabbed accordingly by the topic of said subject ready to go for revision. Hinata had to play catch up. But Yachi had seen this coming. So she made brief, outlined notes for Hinata that he could use as a foundation to fill in the gaps.

“Yachi…” Hinata had sniffled, clutching the review materials to his chest. “Yachi I’d die for you.”

“Please don’t!” Yachi waved her hands in front of her face frantically. “My 27th fear is being the cause of someone’s death!”

The sun sat heavy and rested in the middle of the sky. After doing four rounds of twenty-five minutes on, they now could spend thirty minutes on a break. Something Hinata was incredibly happy about reaching.

Yachi wiggled her toes in her socks, staring down at the crown of Hinata’s hair. I want to touch it.

“Is it making sense?” she asked instead.

“Mmmmm, slowly.” Hinata yawned. “I dunno if I have another twenty-five minutes in me though.”

“We did study a lot,” wiggle wiggle. “We could call it a day after we review that one problem you were struggling with?” she glanced towards her window. “So you can go home before it gets dark.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Hinata pushed himself up to a sitting position. Raising his arms high above his head. Yachi caught a bit of his stomach peaking out from under his shirt and immediately shot her gaze back to their work. “Ok. That sounds good. Teach away, Yachi!”

So she did. She broke down the problem into walkable steps. And demonstrated the method for doing so. Hinata watched with the same intensity he had when he was watching someone pull off a move before he replicated it with near perfection shortly afterwards. He followed her pen strokes. Her pointing. And when she capped her orange highlighter to make an emphasis on one of the steps, he grinned.

“Oh hey. Nice highlighter,” he reached behind him and pulled out from his back pocket his yellow highlighter. He tapped his highlighter against Yachi’s. “They look kinda cool together, don’t ya think? Like they compliment each other.”

We do, don’t we ?

“Yeah,” Yachi replied dreamily. She snapped herself back into focus, though, before her thoughts went ahead of her. “Do you want to try the problem? If you get stuck on a step you can use your highlighter to mark it.”

“Good idea!” Hinata went to work. Face molded in concentration. His shoulders hunched. The hum of Yachi’s fan played in the background to the sound of Hinata scratching his notes down. She reached out for her drink. Hoping the sweetness of the lemonade would cool her thoughts. Of how often they were alone together. How her friends were always asking Hinata-san’s going home with you again, huh? And how many times she’d laugh it off and dimississ it saying We’re just studying! We’re just friends .

Even when her heart would roar loudly in defiance: You want more. You’ve always wanted more.

But how could she?

They were graduating soon. Hinata was definitely heading into a world where their paths wouldn’t collide. Where they wouldn’t sit in adjacent rows. Where their friends weren’t down the hallways. Where they couldn’t grab lunch together and sneak out onto the roof. Hinata would surely go pro. There was no other option. And Yachi was going to college. This moment, in her room, where it’s her and Hinata and the fan buzzing and the drink in her hand with the ice slowly melting and the sun slinking lower and lower into the sky, this moment wasn’t forever. It was a finite piece of a giant vacuum that would swallow her whole at the idea that her days with Hinata were numbered.

Numbered and disappearing at an alarming rate.

“Am I right?”

Hinata’s question pulled Yachi from her thoughts. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes to glance down at his work. He had gotten it right. And her heart leapt with joy and pride at the sight.

“Yup!” she held up her hands for a double high five that Hinata returned with a holler.

“YEEEEEES!”

“Just do that for the exam if you see a problem like that and you’ll be golden.”

“I will! You made it super simple to understand and do. If you weren’t such a badass with designs I’d say you could be a really good teacher, Yachi.”

“Ah, it’s nothing-”

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” Yachi stopped, mid tuck of putting a hair behind her ear. Wondering when she should get another trim for her split ends. “Do... Don’t do what?”

“Put yourself down,” Hinata pressed, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. Yachi yelped and leaned back an inch. “You do that a lot. When I hype you up you hype yourself down. That’s not good.”

She knew she had a nasty habit of doing that. Of regulating herself to Villager B position. She’d been actively trying to not do that. And being in the club helped her cultivate a garden of confidence she could pick from whenever a new one bloomed. But every so often her habit came back. Innocuous and bitter. Never letting go.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either,” Hinata said softly, yet there was a firm seriousness to his voice as he did.

The fan whirred on and on.

Hinata kept his gaze on Yachi. She felt sweat form in her palms. She watched as his gaze searched hers and then, for a brief second, fell to her mouth. She gasped. Her nails curling in to dig at her palms. Her eyes widening as the dangerous, mischievous idea that maybe he was considering what her mouth tasted like. Currently, she’s mad at herself for not reapplying her vanilla shea butter chapstick when she had thought about it. And currently, she considered how the humidity in her room is making her shirt stick in the most uncomfortable places. On her neck and under her arm and to her stomach.

Their noses were inches apart.

If she tilted her head, she could-

Hinata’s phone rang. The theme song of the newest Super Sentai- Mahou Ranger -blared through her room. Hinata and Yachi froze. Until Hinata cursed and got up to turn answer his phone.

“Terushima!” Hinata said upon answering. “Hello? Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something? Huh? Wait, what? Bokuto is doing what ? Wait wait! Send pics and I’ll call you later about it! That’s epic-let him know! Ok bye!”

While he was on the phone, Yachi had a moment to ground herself. Had a moment to realize that she was, in fact, very close to having her first kiss. She slowly raised her finger tips to her lips. Ran the pads of her fingers along her bottom lip and pressed down. Wondering what the pressure of another person’s lips-of Hinata’s lips-would have felt like.

“Yachi, are these the tissues I gave you a few weeks ago? You still have them?”

“Huh? Oh,” she saw the packet of tissues that Hinata was holding up. “Yeah. They’re cute! So I’ve been saving them for special blowing occasions.” saying that out loud was a lot more embarrassing than in her head, oh Lord.

Hinata, however, found it hilarious. He laughed and placed it back on the table. “You’re right. They’re meant for the most epic of nose blows. That’s why they’re super soft! Absorbs all the snot!”

“Oh that’s gross,” Yachi said between laughter. Her heart was still racing. Her fingers tapped on the table with loose, uncontained excitement. She kept thinking what if, what if, what if .

Maybe one day, she hoped rather hopelessly, she could see what world lied beyond the what if .

But for now, she contented herself with watching Hinata sitting across from her. In the small space of her bedroom. Where the moments before their paths would diverge were tucked away in tiny pockets of her heart.

“What’s that? Hinata you own a highlighter?”

“I didn’t even know you took notes.”

“Hey! I take notes!” Yachi was not so subtly listening into Hinata’s conversation a few desks away. She had been reworking training schedules for the team to do next week. Conditioning should be bumped down back to two days, and three days for strength work and other drills. She was about to bring out the markers to color code when she heard Hinata’s laughter.

Her heart skipped a measure. Her fingers twitched. His laugh was, perhaps, one of the best things she’s ever been blessed to experience. Even when it wasn’t directed towards her.

“When? All your notes are drawings, man.”

“It makes sense to me .”

“Right, right!”

“Well listen! Maybe I just needed a cool highlighter to keep me motivated.”

“Yellow’s the most basic color there is…”

Ah! Man… that should not have made Yachi as bummed as it did. Well, they weren’t wrong, she supposed. Yellow was a basic color. Especially when there were other shades like purple or mint green or sky blue. Yellow… yellow just didn’t-

“This is the best shade of yellow there is.”

And there was something in the way that Hinata said that. So sure, so strong, and with enough passion someone would think he was defending his favorite tv show character. Yachi felt her heart soar. Then immediately felt silly for getting so excited over Hinata being an advocate for something silly like a highlighter.

She glanced up secretly. Hoping to see what Hinata’s expression was like. Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched.

Because Hinata was looking at her, too.

If this were a shoujo manga, and Yachi’s read many of them, this would be the scene where the world disappears and the only thing left are their desks. Their eyes meet and around them is a frame of cherry blossoms and starlight. Of sparkles and an intense, hushed moment that’s meant to translate a moment shared between two people and two people only.

But this is the real world. The moment fleets and passes like a train rushing for its next stop.

“I like this color,” Hinata said. Looking at her still. His face broke out into a sunny smile that hit Yachi right in the chest. “I like it a lot.” Then he twirled his highlighter around his fingers like a drummer and turned back to his friends.

“What? Why were you looking at Yachi-san like that?”

“Haha, don’t worry about it!” Hinata turned the conversation onto asking if they’d seen the ending of Black Clover yet.

There was a loud, pulsing sound. That roared and demanded attention. That swallowed Yachi’s entire body whole. She felt like one, large, heartbeat. Her cheeks were flamed and her fingers were jittery.

She looked back down at her notes. Staring at the blue marker she was planning to use for color coding. She put it away and brought out the orange highlighter instead. The one she’d bought with Hinata.

With a slow, measured stroke, she brought the highlighter across the first word on the page.

CONDITIONING - LED BY HINATA SHOUYOU.

Yachi felt like death.

Madoka, her mother, knelt beside her bedside. “You’re so warm, dear. Are you sure you want me to go to work?” she frowned. “I can stay home.”

While Yachi would want nothing more than her mother to stay. To taste some of her mother’s food. To feel the continued cooling comfort of her palm pressed to her forehead. She couldn’t. Her mom had a project presentation coming up soon that had her working longer hours. Yachi knew how excited her mother was to show off her latest work. If she missed a day something could go wrong… and Yachi would feel even worse if that happened because of her.

“It’s ok, mama.” Yachi wiggled herself out of her blanket enough for her face to show. Her cheeks were red and flushed. Her body felt sluggish but she put on the best smile she could. “I just need to sleep some more. I’ll be ok! You go to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Super sure,” she reached up to touch her mother’s hand. Gave it a squeeze.

Her mom still didn’t seem convinced. But after a few moments she sighed and got up from the floor. “Alright,” she adjusted her bag and leaned forward to press a kiss on Yachi’s cheek. “Try eating the porridge I made for you if you can! I put all my love in it.” another kiss. “Text or call if you need anything, Hitoka!”

Her mom left for work shortly after. Yachi pulled the blanket back over her head. Oh, she hated being sick. It was such an unpleasant time. Not only was she unable to do work, but her body felt blegh all over. Her nose would keep running. Her eyes never stopped watering. And when she coughed she could feel her whole lungs shake like old rafters in an attic.

She also hated being sick because she couldn’t see Hinata…

The other managers and a few of the players had sent her get well text messages once they found out she was out sick today. And memes, a lot of memes. She felt good, to be considered. It was nice when people remembered you in your absence. When you not being there meant just as much as you being there. That they even considered reaching out at all had made her all gooey!

And then Hinata had texted her. And her heart exploded.

Hinata: YACHI WHY AREN’T YOU HERE!!

Yachi: I’m sick lol! But it’s just a cold tho!!! I should be better by tomorrow so no worries!!!!

Hinata: OH NOOOOOOO Hinata: YOU BETTER FEEL BETTER SOON OR ELSE!!!

Hinata: I’m beating up your antibodies as we SPEAK!

Hinata: Wait Tsukishima just told me if I did that you’d die so I’m actually beating up your VIRUS

Hinata never failed to make her laugh. Even when it ended with a slight cough that made her more tired afterwards.

She slept most of the day away. Getting up once to eat her mom’s porridge. It was yummy, because her mom made it. She checked in with her fellow managers. Seeing how practice went. They both told her it went fine, and that her main focus should be rest.

Miyuchan: [PICTURE OF HINATA MID JUMP] Hinata-senpai’s in good form today hehehe… Sorachan: [VIDEO OF HINATA TURNING TO THE CAMERA, WAVING] when i said your name he turned and waved!! Said it was just for you :)

Yachi’s entire face exploded with heat afterwards. She chucked her phone and ducked under the covers like a caterpillar. “Waaaaaaah! WAAAAAAAH! He looked so good today and I missed it!!! MUCUS DRY UP! COUGH GO AWAY!!!”

She kicked her feet up and down and buried her head into the pillow. Ah, she really had it bad. When did it ever get this way, though? When had she even started to like him? When had that happened?

Maybe it was gradual. A steady rising. That just built up and up over time until she finally couldn’t ignore it anymore. Maybe it was the natural progression of things. When Hinata was so warm and open and understanding. When his sunlight was so attractive and welcoming that stepping to bask in its glow just wasn’t that weird of a thing to do.

But now she thought about what wedding colors she’d have her bridesmaids wear at their wedding and what to do if Godzilla attacked that day and they had to get married within his stomach after being eaten and that was the thought that sent her back to sleep.

When she woke up, the sun had set.

She rose slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Ah, I slept for too long…”

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning Hinata…” . . . “HINATA?”

Hinata sat by her bed with the chair she usually had placed at her desk. He was all grins and laughter. “Haha, hey! Yeah, it’s me. I wanted to come see ya.”

“You… did?”

“Yup! Your mom let me in. She wanted to let you know that she went OVERDRIVE with work today and finished enough so she could come back and see if you needed anything! We bumped into each other at the convenience store when I was getting you..” he reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of Fugashi. Her absolute favorite.

She was going to cry. She’d blame it on the cold.

“Hinata you didn’t have to get me anything! Just you here is uh,” she wanted to say that nothing was sweeter than time with Hinata. And nothing was more delicious than Hinata, in general. But instead settled with, “it’s good. It’s a pleasant surprise. Everyone really!” she quickly added. “I’ve gotten so many texts today from the team and our friends… feeling cared by you all made me feel a million times better!”

Hinata still placed the bag of snacks on her bed beside her. And scooted the chair until he was right by her. He fixed her with a serious glance that made her want to fidget. But then he just broke out into his usual smile.

“Well duh. Of course we’d check in on you! You’re important to us after all.”

“Hehe… yeah,” she rubbed at her cheek. “It’s nice to be reminded of that, I guess. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” he nodded several times for emphasis and then jumped as if he was struck by lightning. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” he reached into his bag again and pulled out a notebook. “I took notes! For you. Well, for me too but these are the ones I did for you specifically.”

She took the notebook from his hands. Flipping through the pages to find scrawled onto the paper notes. Organized and then explained why they were organized the way they were with doodles and boxes and arrows. It was all very Hinata. Yachi felt like she was getting a sneak peek into the inner workings of his brain. Which was cute. But what really made the notes was on the last page. Where he had written in big letters: KEY - IMPORTANT INFORMATION HIGHLIGHTED WITH YACHI YELLOW!

This was the moment where she fell.

If like was the diving board, love was the pool. And she fell into its waters. Got consumed by its waves.

She liked him. Maybe even loved him. Infinitely so. The heat of her fever chilled in comparison to the overwhelming warmth and adoration she had for him in this moment.

She pressed the notebook to her chest. Feeling the corners of her eyes sting. “These are the best notes I’ve ever received… thank you.” Yachi kept her eyes on Hinata. Who looked so pleased and elated and ecstatic-his entire face glowing from the praise. “And thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course, Yachi!” he reached out to grab her hand. Gave it a squeeze. And then ruffled her hair before he got up. “If you have any questions about the notes, gimmie a text! And I’ll see you in class tomorrow, ok? You better come! Or else I’m bringing you there myself!”

“Yeah! Tomorrow,” she grinned. So hard her cheeks hurt.

Later that night, after Hinata had left. Her mom came to find her later. Madoka sat at the end of Yachi’s bed. While Yachi sat propped against her headboard. Fingers running through every word Hinata had written for our. Making sure to linger extra long on the highlighted phrases. So much so her index finger had highlighter smudges on it.

“I think he likes you,” her mom had said after a few moments.

Yachi whipped up her head, “Did he say something? Did he! Mama you can’t say that and then not explain!”

Her mother laughed, “You didn’t give me a chance to! No, Hitoka. He didn’t say anything directly. But I know attraction when I see it.” she lowered her eyes, a sly expression on her face as she regarded Yachi. “Something tells me it’s not so one-sided on his part…”

Yachi papped her cheeks, rubbing in small circles. “Ah… is it noticeable?”

“A bit,” she leaned forward to kiss Yachi on the forehead. “I approve, by the way. If he ever wants to come over for dinner let him know he’s more than welcomed! Also! Did you guys kiss? I hope you didn’t since you could pass your cold to him but if you did -”

“MAAAAMAAAAAA!”

“Just teasing!”

It was one thing to know you liked someone.

It was another thing altogether to act upon it.

Yachi had definitely grown in her courage stat over her high school career. She didn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation. She didn’t question, as much and as aggressively, her place in the world. She raised her voice and led proudly during every practice session with her managers. She even looked forward to volunteering in class.

But love? Romance? She had zero stats in that section at all.

Most of her knowledge came from otome games and shoujo mangas. And the occasional evening drama she and her mama would watch when her mama had a day off.

Real life experience? Zero.

How did people even confess to their crushes?

“I could write him a note,” she thought, sipping on her strawberry milk in class during lunch. “Or um… write him a song? I can’t sing well though. Maybe I should get someone else to sing it? But what if he thinks the person who’s singing the song to him is crushing on him and he falls in love with them and then they get engaged right in front of me I would have to simply pass awa-”

“What are you talking about, Yachi? It sounds stressful?”

“Hinata!” Of course he’d appear as she rambled herself into oblivion. So embarrassing. “Oh, nothing. I was just getting in my head a bit.”

“Well I hope you can get out of your head soon enough cause look!” Hinata held up his test score papers. They weren’t the best but they weren’t failures. He actually hit much higher than his usual exam results. With scores ranging well within the 60s and 70s. “I passed! Our study sessions worked!”

“Oh that’s so great Hinata! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud.”

“Hehehehehe, it’s all thanks to your wonderful teaching! Hey, as thanks. We’re gonna go out after school ok? Since we don’t have practice we can like, go get something to eat.”

Like a date? Her brain supplied traitorously. “Something to eat sounds good. But you really don’t have to treat me. It was no trouble at all tutoring you.”

“I want to do this,” Hinata pressed. Firm and resolute. Once Hinata got set with an idea, it was hard to change his mind. Stubbornness was imprinted within his DNA-Yachi was sure of it.

“Ok,” she agreed, nodding. Smiling, she added, “We can meet by the gym?”

“The gyms perfect! It’s a-” before he could finish Kageyama’s voice called out from the doorway.

“Hinata! Melon bread is on sale today. Last one to the cafeteria sucks!” and then he booked it.

“YOU DIRTY CHEATER, KAGEYAMA!” Hinata hollered. The classmates around them laughed. Yachi wondered what Hinata was going to say after that. But before she could ask Hinata turned to her, slapping his hands on her desk.

“The gym!” he pressed, looking her right in the eye.

She nodded, “The gym. Go! Melon bread!” she stuck out her orange highlighter. Hinata blinked down at it for a second, then grinned. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his yellow highlighter. He tapped his against hers.

“I’M COMING FOR YOU MELON BREAD!” Hinata roared before he tore out of the classroom like a hurricane on a mission.

Yachi stared at her highlighter like it was a rare jewel. She clutched it to her chest, where her heart was beating madly.

“Thank you so much for existing,” she whispered.

The rest of the day went by in a blur.

Yachi barely remembered what occurred in her lessons. But that wasn’t really important. What mattered was after school. It was rare that they didn’t have practice. But Ukai-sensei wanted to give the team a good rest after their last practice match with Nekoma.

“You guys aren’t even allowed to think about a volleyball,” Ukai-sensei had warned. “If I find out you’re even touching one? Laps! Laps for days!”

Yachi was surprised Hinata wasn’t attempting to sneak off with Kageyama somewhere far, far away to go practice out of sight from their coach. But she’s incredibly happy he isn’t.

“Yachi!”

Yachi’s heart skipped a beat as Hinata stopped by her with his bike. She hopped off the steps to meet him. “Hinata! Hi! Nice bike!”

“Thanks! Wait check this out,” he rang the bell several times. It’s chime declared to anyone who could hear it. “It’s the Mahou Ranger theme song. I learned it last week with Terushima!”

“It’s fine! Um,” she stared at the bike, looking left and right to find another seat. “Are we going on that together?”

“Yeah! Is that cool?”

Was that cool? She’s read shoujo manga after shoujo manga depicting this very scene and they still hadn’t prepared her for this moment. She swallowed thickly.

“Yup! It’s cool. I won’t fall, right?” she attempted a laugh at the end. Something light to make her heart settle and her palms sweat less. (Do her armpits smell? Would he even notice if they did? No no, her armpits were fine ).

Hinata grinned lopsidedly, “If you hold on tight you won’t even wobble.”

Oh Yachi’s gonna hurl.

Once Yachi’s on the bike, and her arms are secured around Hinata’s middle, it’s a whole other experience. A thousand manga panels couldn’t capture the feeling of having her chest pressed to his back. Having her cheek against his shoulder. Seeing and meeting Hinata’s eyes everytime he glanced back to see if she was ok.

“I’m a safe driver!”

“I think we broke the sound barrier a bit!”

“Yeah but safely !”

She’s laughed more on the bike ride than she had all day. And she may have held on a little tighter. Squeezed and took advantage of the closeness a little more than she should. But she wanted to indulge in a little greediness. Take a bit more than what she usually would have. In case this moment was the last. In case she’d never get to feel him like this again.

They ate first. At a ramen shop downtown. The noodles were soft and the soup was so warm! Yachi slurped up her entire bowl. Messily and all. They talked about everything. School and their current, favorite TV shows. They exchanged music recommendations and talked about the future.

“I think I want to go abroad,” Hinata mentioned as they sat by the riverbank after dinner.

The back of Yachi’s neck went cold. “Oh yeah?” she tried not to think about how abroad meant far away and not near here. Because these were his dreams, not hers. And above all Yachi wanted to support Hinata and his journey with every fibre of her being. No matter where that took him. Even if she couldn’t support him by his side. “That’s amazing! Do you have a place in mind?”

“A few!” Hinata hummed. “I’m still weighing the options. I wanna go somewhere warm though. With a nice beach… I’d love to play some beach volleyball!”

“I’d worry about the sand in my toes,” Yachi laughed. “I get sand everywhere when I go to the beach. It’s really unpleasant.”

The sun was beginning to set. Sitting heavy and content upon the horizon. A mix of oranges and yellows and quiet pinks and rueful purples. Yachi focused her eyes on the river. And made her brain think about how far it reached. How the river would probably go to the ocean. And how the ocean, despite being divided into seven parts, was really all connected at the end. And maybe, that could be them. Divided, but connected.

“Ah yeah?” Hinata said. “Well, the sand would definitely need some getting used to. If you visit a lot though, you’d get used to all the sand, wouldn’t you think?”

If you visit a lot . She had to know what that meant. Because the hope that rose in her chest and took root in her heart and was threatening to dominate her being was too much. Too great. And too burdensome to end in a deflation of a what if, or a failed expectation.

“You’d want me to come see you?”

“Yeah of course,” Hinata was staring at the bank too. And then he turned to look at her. And she met him in return. As she always would. “I like you. So I wanna see you. Even when we graduate.”

“I mean of course we’d see each other after we graduate! I dunno if I could visit all the time because of college but maybe long breaks or something could work.” She’d completely blown by his first admission. Her brain was already trying to envision summer and fall and winter breaks and a trip. She had to balance finding an internship too. So maybe she could coordinate something with whatever company she ended up interning at. Hopefully they’d be lenient. She’s never traveled abroad either. So maybe she could call up Kiyoko-senpai or-

“Yachi get out of your head.”

Suddenly, Hinata was in her space. Eyes intense and lips pulled into a frown. Yachi’s instincts told her to move away but her heart told her to remain rooted.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Hinata searched her face for countless seconds, “Yachi. Did you hear what I said? The first thing?”

“Yeah of course.” she responded. Then giggles. “Oh, that sounds like I’m responding to you but no I mean I’m just repeating.”

“No, after that. Think,” Hinata was so so close. And with the sunset coating him like a blanket, making his orange hair stand out even more, and his orange, golden eyes glow, she wondered if he’d keep his hair that long. Or if he’d cut it. And she wondered if she could touch it before they graduated. And she wondered if her mother was right, and he did like her. And she-

Oh.

“You like me.” it hit her like a freight train. Her entire body was covered in a dawning blush. The electricity and tingling of the realization went right down to her toes.

Hinata broke out into a brilliant smile. “Yes!” he laughed, head thrown back. The sound bounced all over the little world they were building of just her and Hinata. Only two. “Oh my God. I was worried you didn’t like me at first and that was your way of rejecting me. WAIT!” He whipped his head back, eyes wide with panic. “Do you like me? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t I’ll survive but if you did and I missed that you should say it again or if you haven’t said-”

“I like you,” Yachi blurted out. Because once the words had a reason to be alive. Had a reason to be born. Could be freed from the prisons of her mind and delivered safely with her heart to his hands-she had to say it. Here on the riverbank where the wet grass would surely leave stains on her skirt. But she didn’t care. Because she had to say it.

“I like you so much,” Yachi continued. Flowing like the river below them. “So much it hurts. So much I really, really want to kiss you.”

Hinata took her lips in the softest kiss. One that made her sigh and her eyelashes flutter. One that made her feel so seen and heard and alive and broken apart and undone and melting all at once.

It was her first kiss. And it made her want several more afterwards.

Once they broke apart, Hinata pressed his forehead to hers. Yachi curled her fingers around the back of his neck. Allowed herself the blessing of playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. Biting her lip, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. He was smiling at her. His cheeks flushed red-probably burning as much as hers were at the moment. He laughed, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Me too,” he whispered against her skin. “I like you so much I'm gonna explode, haha.”

“Can I say something? It’s kinda cheesy,” Hinata started as they biked home.

“Mhm,” Yachi hummed, nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I think of you every time I use that highlighter. The yellow one. It’s the only highlighter I’ve ever owned. And it’s probably gonna stay the only highlighter I ever have. Is that weird?” he looked back sheepishly and chuckled.

Yachi laughed, shaking her head. “No not at all. I got that orange highlighter because it reminded me of you, after all. Or well, your hair specifically. But you, by extension.”

“What do you like more. Me, or my hair?”

“Hmm… that’s a tough question… Can you get back to me on that?”

“No! Yachi! You have to answer right now! Wait,” he stopped the bike by a lamppost. Hopping off, he held out his hands for her to take like she was getting off a carriage. She flushed, giggling, and hopped off with his hands in hers. “I forgot something.”

“Did you leave something behind at the riverbank?” she hoped not. They could go back and look for whatever he’d lost, but it was dark now. And any luck would be wasted right now. She’d try though, if that’s what-

“Oh, no! No that’s fine. I just. I realized I didn’t-AHHHH!” he shook his head several times like he was scaring away the ghosts in the attic. “Yachi Hitoka! Will you be my girlfriend please?” he yelled for as loud as the neighborhood could hear. “I know I’ll be leaving and we’ll be far apart for a while but I like you a lot! I like you so much! I’ll call you every night! I’ll wish you good morning and good night! I’ll send you pictures of my sandy feet! I want to share everything about this new world I’m going into and I hope you want to do the same! So please consider me as your boyfriend, thank you!”

Hinata Shouyou was a bag of surprises. When she thought she had him figured out, Hinata just threw Yachi for a loop.

But that’s what made her drawn to him. That’s what made her like him.

“Yes!” she yelled, just as loud. Surely the neighbors would wake up but she didn’t care. “Hinata Shouyou I want to be your girlfriend! I want you to be my boyfriend and show me your sandy feet and I’ll show you my not sandy feet! I want to call you all the time! I want to support you on your journey even when we’re oceans apart! I want to continue being with you for as long as I can! I like you! I accept! Be my boyfriend, please!”

Hinata cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss.

Under the flickering lamp post on a late, spring evening where their final days were drawing in.

But their first moments, together, were only beginning.

#hinayachi #yachihina #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #haikyuu #my fics

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